Prologue

The small girl sat quietly in the centre of the bare, white room. She could only have been four; five at the most.

The door slowly opened, and a man stepped inside. The black cloak he wore greatly contrasted against the shining walls.

The man moved towards the girl, and stroked her cheek gently.

"I wish I could let you out sweetheart," he said sadly, "but it's too dangerous. You know what you did. We can't risk it happening again."

A tear ran down the girl's face.

"I want to leave!" she cried out angrily. The man took a hurried step back. "I want to LEAVE!!!"

As she screamed her final word, the man's dark cloak erupted into flames. He shrieked in pain, and wildly ran about, trying to put out the fire. It was no use. The girl's eyes were black as she gazed coldly at her dying father. When the screaming stopped, and all that was left were ashes, the girl stood, and walked out the door.

Chapter One: The Discovery

It was getting dark… very dark. And standing on the side of a rather busy road, waiting for two irresponsible teenagers to pick you up, isn't a smart thing to do.

Then again, I'm not exactly known for my brilliance.

The Qudditch World Cup is tomorrow, and I'm supposed to be going with my two best friends - Fred and George Weasely - and the rest of their family.

At least, that was the plan. But since Fred and George are so late getting here, I'm thinking they might have forgot.

The funny thing is, I don't even like Qudditch that much. It's fun to play and all, but when you just sit there and watch others, it's not that exciting.

The real reason I want to go, is because I want to watch Victor Krum. And before you go off getting the wrong idea about me, I'm not boy crazy, (in fact, I've been called lesbian many times, simply because I'm sixteen and I haven't been kissed by a guy. You know what I tell those people? I HAVEN'T BEEN KISSED BY A GIRL EITHER!!!), but there is nobody in their right mind that wouldn't think Victor Krum's hot. And I'm including guys here. Most guys just aren't fruity enough to say it out loud…

It's been said that I have anger issues, and although I disagree, my trunk looks as though it begs to differ. I can't blame it. I mean, if someone randomly started bashing me because their friends were late, I'd think they had anger issues as well.

However, my trunk can now die peacefully, because a car just pulled up in front of me.

"'Ello Darling," George said as he gave me a giant bear hug.

Once he pulled away, I glared at him.

"You're late," I pointed out.

George rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. By like, five minutes."

"Still late," I muttered.

He either didn't hear me, or just chose to ignore what I said, opting to pick up my trunk and taking it to the car.

I bounced over to the passenger seat and climbed in. I have an obsession with sitting in the front of cars. It's a little OCD, but I digress.

"Hi, Fred," I greeted him, pecking him on the cheek.

"Good evening, Darling. Missed me?"

"Not really," I teased.

My full name is Andrea Susan Darling. Hence the 'Darling'. It cracks me up whenever I go out with a girlfriend (as in 'friend that's a girl (I've already mentioned the lesbian thing)) and they call me 'Darling', then some little, old lady looks at us all disapprovingly.

Fred started driving and we began to discuss a few of the previous pranks we'd pulled on people.

Like the time we turned the Black Lake into jelly. I have no idea why we were punished for that. I looked through every rule book in the school, and there was not one mention that it was against the rules.

And it's not like we even damaged the ecosystem! George checked, and there was not one dead fish in sight. Haven't seen the Giant Squid since then though…

"Oh! Andy, I almost forgot," Fred said suddenly, interrupting George's description of Ron's face as he realised he was standing stark naked in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"Forgot what?"

"I got you something."

"What, what, what, what?" I asked excitedly.

He rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of Skittles.

I gasped.

"You got me SKITTLES??!!"

I lunged over and grabbed them, right out of Fred's hand. Which, considering he was driving, wasn't a smart move.

"Fuck, Andy!" Fred exclaimed once he'd gotten control of the car.

"Well, you know I love you and all Fred, just not in that way…" I joked.

"Oh, shut up you," Fred murmured. If it was anyone else, I would have thought they were angry. But, it was Fred, and I could already see that he was fighting to keep down a grin.

"Have we mentioned the guy yet, Fred?" George asked.

"Can't say we have, George," Fred replied.

"Should we tell her?"

"May as well. She'd find out anyway, soon enough," Fred pointed out.

"Alright then. Andy," George began, turning to face me. "We're not allowed to pull any pranks at the Cup."

"What?! Why not?" I asked disappointedly. I had been so looking forward to dying Percy's freckles green.

"Because we have to look after some guy's son," Fred said sadly.

"How old is the kid?"

"Seventeen," George said.

"And we have to look after a seventeen year old guy, because?…"

"Well, not look after, but we're not allowed to embarrass dad. That's why no pranks," Fred explained.

"Well… I'm just depressed now," I muttered.

"OK, but you know that if you're sad when you walk inside, mum will only hug you tighter," George reminded me.

"Oh, yeah…" I quickly turned my frown upside down; into a grin. And this wasn't a normal grin. This was a oh-my-god-what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-her-face grin.

It made my mouth hurt.

"We're here!" Fred sang out twenty minutes later.

I smiled. I hadn't been to the Burrow in ages. Not since last Christmas, at least.

We all walked inside (this time it was George trying to be all manly and tough, picking up my trunk with one hand) and were pounced on by Molly.

Well, I was pounced on. Fred and George were simply pushed out the way. It's good to know just how much she loves her family.

"Oh, Andy dear! It is so good to see you."

She embraced me, and I had to bend down. Now, I'm not a giant or anything – I'm 5"7, and one of the tallest girls in my class, but I'm not a giant – Molly is just a very short woman.

I heard Fred and George snicker from where they'd been pushed, and I scowled. They can be such bitches.

When I was finally released, Mrs Weasely told us to quickly eat dinner, and then get to bed.

"You have an early start tomorrow," she had said.

Getting up early makes me cry.

Once we'd eaten, Fred and George ran up to their room, and I made myself comfortable on the couch.

I was meant to share with Ginny and Hermione, but I figured that they'd already be sleeping, and I didn't want to disturb them.

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the wooden arm of the couch. Now that I think about it, I don't think I was sleeping. Unconscious? Yes. But, asleep? No way in hell. I don't think it's actually possible to fall asleep in under three seconds.

I was roused in the morning by a bastard.

I don't mean that personally. Anyone that wakes me in the morning is classified a bastard for about five minutes or so.

"Piss off," I mumbled drowsily.

But it would seem this person didn't care that I was tired and had a bruise on the side of my head the size of a… largish bruise.

No. They stole my pillow and my blanket. Then they pushed me onto the floor. What a fucktard… I'm not sure what that means.

I finally looked at the person who had woken me. Ron.

"I hate you, Ronald Weasely. Just so you know."

"Don't worry. Everyone does at one point or another. It'll pass."

Well, that's… encouraging.

"Go away. I've gotta get dressed and there's no way you can stay for that."

"You're in the middle of the lounge room," he pointed out.

Oh. Right. I knew that.

"Well… I guess I'll go to the bathroom then, won't I?"

"That'd be a good plan," he agreed.

I nodded, then dragged my trunk to the bathroom.

I quickly got changed into a plain black shirt and some extremely old jeans. And I mean ancient. These jeans are older than me! and I know that because they used to belong to one of my friends brothers. He wore them when he was fourteen, and he's now thirty-nine.

Once I was dressed, I ran downstairs. And by 'ran', I mean 'fell'.

Fred and George were already seated at the kitchen table, pigging out on breakfast.

I yawned.

"Whasdatim?" I asked drowsily.

"Whasdatim what?" George asked confused.

"What. Is. The. Time?" I repeated. Honestly, sometimes I don't think they understand me at all.

"Bit past five," Fred answered.

"Five in the afternoon?" I asked hopefully.

"Five in the morning, Darlz," George teased. That was unnecessary, because I know that he hates early mornings just as much as I do, so he has no right to be all 'haha, you had to wake up'. It's just mean.

Arthur walked into the room.

"Good morning everyone!" he said, unusually chirpy for such a godforsaken hour. "You all excited for the big day?"

"Oh yeah. The Cup's on today," I said suddenly.

Fred and George looked at me as though I'd grown an extra head, while Arthur continued on, oblivious.

"That's right. And we'd better leave soon. It'd be horrible if we were late for the Portkey."

I gulped.

"P-p-po-portkey?" I stuttered nervously. Fred and George snickered at my obvious discomfort. It was fine for them.

You see, whenever I travel by magic, I get sick. Like, completely-spewing-up-the-contents-of-my-stomach-for-all-the-world-to-see sick. It's not fun.

That's why Fred and George picked me up in the car.

"Well, yes," Arthur said nervously, after seeing my expression. "But remember, it's the only way we can get to the Cup."

I nodded. I know. I've just got to hold it in… good thing I didn't have breakfast.

It was then that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made their way into the kitchen. They saw my face and immediately took a step back. I can't blame them. When I get sick, the ground (and often the people around me) gets messy.

Arthur looked at his watch.

"Uh oh. We're running late. You four can eat on the way," he said to the guys that had just come in.

He pushed us out the door and we began our trek to the Portkey.

I'd say it was ten miles or so, to get to the Portkey. But it felt like a whole lot more.

I saw a hill up ahead, with two figures on it.

One was short and chubby, the other tall and muscular… and sexy. I can't leave out sexy. That's an important factor that must never be left out of a description.

We finally caught up to them, and I was glad. The hill wasn't particularly steep, but it was still a hill.

"Amos!" Mr Weasely greeted the chubby man. "It's so good to see you! It's been too long."

"Marvelous to see you too, Arthur! I say, are all these yours? You and Molly must've been busy."

I grimaced at the old man's attempt at an innuendo. Those are best left to the professionals… which in this case, would be anyone but this Amos character.

"No, no, no. Only the red heads are mine. This is my only daughter Ginny, also the youngest. Ron, Fred and George." As Mr Weasely introduced them, they shook both the guys hands (by that I mean, they shook Amos' hand, and then they shook the sexy fellow's hand). "The other three are Hermione Granger," Hermione shook hands with the sexy guy first, and then Amos. A pleasant change of routine; everyone else said hello to Amos first, to which I ask why? "Andrea Darling, and Harry Potter."

I was planning on shaking Amos' hand, really, I was! But when you go to say hello to a person, and they then completely ignore you, instead going straight for the famous person's hand, you just feel a little rejected.

I stood to the side, rather miserable, while everyone else watched the conversation between Harry and Amos.

It was when the sexy dude's name was finally spoken, that I realised who he was.

Cedric Diggory.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate the guy, but he's just so… so… perfect! He's good looking, smart, good at sports, always got a bazillion girls hanging off him, he's great with kids… . I'm not actually sure on that last one, but he's so superior at everything else that he does, why not that as well??

"Hey, Andy." Cedric said to me.

Well, at least he's nicer than his father… the stupid asshole.

"Hey, Cedric. Good to see you." I replied nicely. Like I said, I don't hate him, and in fact, he's quite pleasant to be around, but it's just the idea of him and what he stands for that I don't like.

"Yeah, you too. I'm guessing you didn't realise it was me that was tagging along?"

"I like to think of it as baby-sitting, but no. Nobody told me because… I actually don't know why. I bet Arthur just thought we all hated you after the whole 'beating Harry in Qudditch' thing you had going last year."

"Um… have you not seen the death glares I'm getting from the twins?" He seemed surprised.

"No. I've seen them," I replied. "But they gave me that exact same look a few months ago when I wouldn't help them with their Transfiguration homework."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because they know more about Transfiguration than I do! They were just too busy pranking people to bother doing their homework."

"I reckon you're pretty smart," he disagreed. "I heard you aced that Potions test."

"I ace every Potions test, because Snape is a scary, scary, sad, little man… with a big nose," I added quickly.

He laughed. And I don't just mean a little side-chuckle either. He actually seemed as if he thought what I said was funny; not that I'm in any way surprised of course.

He has a nice laugh; just another thing to add to my list of things that Cedric Diggory is perfect at (and yes, I really do have a list. It's not on paper, but it's hidden in my mind somewhere).

"I'm leaving now, son. Have a fantastic time!" Amos said, pulling his son into a tight hug.

Cedric blushed, which made me grin. It's just so cute when guys blush.

"Alright dad. I'll see you when the game ends." Cedric was still attempting to get his father off of him.

The struggle only widened my smile.

After a few more minutes, Amos Apparated off, leaving us to stand around a mangy, old boot.

I gulped.

"So… not only is that thing a Portkey, some weirdo used to wear it? And… is that a taco in the toe?" I said amazed. I've seen some pretty weird stuff in my lifetime, but this just tops it. Without a doubt.

"You know what, Darlz?" Fred began. "I think you're right!"

I scoffed.

"No need to sound so surprised or anything, bitch," I muttered.

Either Cedric heard me, or he's just really weird, because he randomly started chuckling. I don't know about anyone else, but I was rooting for the first option.

"Alright everyone. Finger on the taco… I mean boot!" Arthur hurried to fix his mistake, but the damage was already done. Everyone laughed, and moved as far away from the taco as physically possible.

I placed a finger on the heel of the boot, and stood still.

I began my deep breathing technique. Breath in, for seven seconds… hold for seven seconds… breathe out for seven seconds… and before I knew what was happening, I felt a tug on the back of my navel, and was suddenly flying through the air.

I couldn't wait for it to end, so I could find a bucket, crawl into a ditch, and die.

Slightly after too long, I heard Arthur yell to let go, and I fell onto the ground with a thud.

For a moment, I focused on the physical pain of practically landing on your head, but soon moved on to more pressing matters.

"Ugh… I need a bucket…" I groaned, and in a matter of seconds I had a choice of seven, different coloured buckets. There was a red one, yellow one, green one, blue one, indigo one, violet one, and a pink one.

I chose the violet one, because today purple's my favourite colour.

I threw up in the most unattractive, unladylike, disgusting, repellent, nauseating, horrible, sordid, filthy, ghastly, sickening, repulsive and revolting way ever in the history of all barfing.

It was something to be proud of for generations to come.

"Question," Ginny began. "Where the hell did all that come from? You didn't even have breakfast!"

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny…" I shook my head at her. "You should have learned by now, not to question the stomach. It answers to no man. Or woo-man, in this case."

She grinned.

"Hey, who's bucket did I use?" I asked curiously. No one answered. And this wasn't because they're just bitches. It's a game we have. I've got to guess who gave me the bucket, and if I guess right, whatever colour bucket it was, I get that colour Skittles. That's why I never choose pink, because you can't get pink Skittles. It'd be awesome if you could though…

I looked everyone dead in the face.

– Hermione was the yellow.

– Harry was the green

– Fred was the red.

– George was the pink (he always chooses pink for some reason. I haven't figured out why yet…)

– Ginny was the blue.

– Arthur was the indigo, which means…

"Cedric gave me the violet one." I finally said.

"Got it in one," he said astonished.

I smirked. Everyone's always amazed the first time… and the second time… and every single time they ever see it… Sadly, it's a frequent occurrence.

"Alright everyone. Let's go get our tents set up!" Arthur said excitedly.

We all bounced after him… actually, I think I'm the only one that bounced. Everyone else walked, like normal people.

We caught up to Arthur as he was trying to figure out how to pay the Muggle grounds keeper. Eventually, Harry went over and helped him, which made me laugh.

After all that, we made it to our campsite.

I know it was our site, because of the sign that read Weezely. It was a dead give away; amazing but true.

"Here we are. Now, Cedric, Andy, Fred and George, you go and get us some firewood," Arthur said.

"Shouldn't you set up the tents first, Arthur?" I suggested.

"Oh, that won't take very long," he waved us away. "By the time you get back, we'll have all this sorted and ready to go."

I turned around and began walking off, even though I knew that when we got back, Arthur would still be figuring out how to get the tent out of the bag.

As Fred and George started singing to the tune of 'Can't Touch This', I knew it would be a long time until we got back to camp… that's why I joined them.

After ten minutes or so, my voice became hoarse, so I gave up.

Of course, this whole time, Cedric had been shaking his head sadly. I can't really blame him. Outsiders often find us weird.

Whoa. These guys are weird. It's cool though, that they can be themselves…

"What the hell was that?!" I jumped.

"What are you talking about, Andy?" Fred replied.

"Someone said something!"

"I think you're going mental, babe." George said sadly.

"No, I seriously heard someone say something. They said 'whoa. These guys are weird. It's cool though, that they can be themselves,' exactly like that!"

I saw Digg's eyes widen as I spoke, but I didn't really think anything of it until I heard the voice again…

Andy? Can you actually hear what I'm saying?

"Yes!" I replied.

Try and think something back.

Um… I don't really know what to think in a situation like this. It's not something that happens to me all that often…

Figures you'd say something like that. It's Cedric, by the way. I wasn't sure if you'd actually want to know who you were speaking to…

Huh. Cedric? I wasn't really expecting you. I was hoping for someone a bit more good looking…

He put his hand to his chest.

Ouch. My heart. It hurts.

I smirked.

OK, I'm sorry. You're very pretty… for a girl.

Thanks for that. I'll be sure to come to you whenever I need a confidence booster.

Were you being sarcastic right now? Because I couldn't really tell…

Yeah. It was sarcasm Andy.

Good to know. Um… I'm going to actually talk now, because this whole thing is seriously freaky. Wanna ask Dumbledore when we get back to school?

Sure thing. Now, no more talking with our brains. Fred and George are looking as if the silence is killing them. Or maybe it's the other way around…

I chuckled.

"Hey, look! Wood!" I suddenly yelled.

"Um, Darling? That's a tree." Fred pointed out.

"Oh… that makes sense… can we kill it?"

"Why would you want to kill a tree? What did it ever do to you?" George asked, genuinely curious.

"Because, I'm lazy and I don't wanna walk anymore."

"Makes sense," Cedric agreed.

"OK," Fred conceded. "Accio firewood!"

A whole heap of suitable firewood came shooting out at us from the trees, and landed on the ground in front of Fred.

"Um... guys?" I began. "Why didn't we just do that while we were back at the camp?"

My question was answered with silence, so I rolled my eyes and started walking back toward camp. Men can be so dumb.

I spotted the tent when I was about fifty metres away. Actually, I spotted two tents; one for the girls, one for the guys. I thought this a good idea, because there are only three girls, and we get the whole tent!

Heehee... suckers.

"Oh, good! You're back." Mr Weasely exclaimed as I got closer.

"... yep."

I couldn't really think of a suitable response to that; I think it's my lack of sleep. Or all that throwing up. I'm hungry.

"Well, the rest of us are here, if you want to go say hello. Bill and Charlie are in this tent... I'm not too sure where Percy's run off to..."

I went to the entrance of the tent.

"Everybody better have their pants on!" I called out before going in.

"Andy! Don't be absurd... you know I only take my pants off when you're in the room."

I ran over to Charlie and threw my arms around him.

"Charlie!"

"Hello to you to. Did you miss me or something?" he teased.

I think he was referring to the way that I was still choking him.

I let go, and sat down on the table.

"Well, it has been about, a year since I last saw you." I reminded him.

"Oh yeah. I was wondering why you were taller..."

I grinned at him.

Me and Charlie have been good friends ever since I first met him. He'd just had this aura of friendliness that I couldn't resist. Of course, I may have liked him a lot at the time because I was thirteen, he had just turned nineteen, and I thought he was hot.

I got over my crush pretty quickly though, because I realised that boys were just gross. After that we had a pretty tight friendship. We didn't get to talk face-to-face that often, but a lot of letters were sent.

"Andy, I know you missed me and all, but restrain yourself."

That was Bill, and his extraordinary attempt at sarcasm. Needless to say, he failed.

"I saw you three weeks ago, Billy goat. Three weeks... one year... need I say more?"

He glared at me, and then stuck out his tongue.

I sighed. I guess some people never grow up. Of course, he was being incredibly adorable, so I held out my arms in a gesture of peace. He came over and gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

That would be when the twins and Cedric got back.

"Thanks for helping us carry this stuff, Andy," George groaned.

I grimaced. I knew there was something I'd forgotten to do...

Well, I've returned to fanfiction, obviously. And, this time, with the intention of actually finishing this story. Hopefully.

Just so you all know... I'm a review whore. So, hint-hint, nudge-nudge!

~G