Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognise from the books/movies/Pottermore. J.K. Rowling is, most probably, the owner. I do own my OCs but that's about it.

Chapter One

"Yes." I whisper, grinning at my O.W.L.s. I hand the letter to my mother as she passes by my door. "Ma, look."

Her eyes travel through the letter and she hands it back to me with a smile. "That's great, mija. What does O and E stand for?"

"Outstanding and exceeds expectations, Ma, I told you last year."

"No, I don't think you did." She says. She's grinning though so I laugh. She makes her way down the hall. "Nevertheless, that is great news. Before you head off to school, we'll celebrate."

I smile at her as she rounds the corner and disappears. I crash back on my bed and continue binge watching Supernatural on my laptop.

It'll be my seventh year in Hogwarts. It's the last year to enjoy the dungeons of the Slytherin common room, last year to win the Quidditch Cup, last year to be a Hogwarts student. Sad, but it also means that I won't have to spend a dorm with Goyle's drama anymore.

I'm almost certain my seventh year will pass in the blink of an eye. It'll be the same eventless year (maybe with the exception of Elizabeth's Goyle's dramas leaking into our dorm room every once in a while) and I'll enjoy a good year out of the limelight with a few good friends. By the end, I'll be stuck choosing between an Auror career or professional Quidditch.

My phone rings. I grin dumbly at the screen. It's Madison Higgs calling. The pureblood Hufflepuff had taken a near four months before she had gotten the hang of the iPhone I gifted her last year. But within two months, she had convinced her entire family to get phones too. I think she's planning to get a laptop this year.

"Hello." I say.

"Catalina! Did you get your O.W.L.s?" She's talking fast (and breathy).

"Sí. I'm guessing you got straight Os."

"Don't be silly." I can hear her grin. "I got one Exceeds Expectations in Arithmancy but the rest are all Outstanding."

"That's great, Maddie."

"Thank you. Mom and Dad are really proud. Even Matthew is happy for me. He somehow managed to scrape two Es by the way. Of course, he barely passed everything else." She says.

Matthew is her Slytherin twin who's more musically inclined. It's a miracle he hasn't failed anything yet.

"I'm proud of both of you." I say. I mean it. Maddie's near-straight Os are expected. And Matt's convinced he doesn't need the grades for a music career.

"Enough about me. What about you?"

"Four Os and five Es. Not too bad. I expected so much worse." I twirl the parchment letter in my hand.

"Oh, please. Like you'd fail anything." Maddie must be rolling her eyes. There's a long sigh. "Last year huh?"

"Yeah. It's all too soon."

She hums in agreement.

I look over to the many memoirs and posters decorating my wall. Muggle band posters dominated half of it, Holyhead Harpies filled up another half. A few polaroids of my time at Hogwarts could be found here and there with other memoirs. There's an empty corner that used to be occupied by pictures. But what I'm looking for is in a different corner, my Hogwarts letter is still spread out there.

'Dear Ms. Catalina Reyes, ...'

...

The train whistle is ringing in my ears. I'm on platform 9 ¾. Mamá hugs me tightly before I go on the train, saying something about how kids grow up too fast. Papá ruffles my hair and helps me get my trunk on the train. Despite having me young, they were a perfect couple. Ma still stands slim and pretty and Pa still slicks his hair back. They are beautiful people. I wish I could say the same about myself.

They disappear into the sea of people once I'm on the train.

I don't need to look too hard for an empty compartment. Maddie, Matt, and Benedict, our other friend, always sit in the same one. I assume they aren't here yet. I slide open the door, breathing in the old smell. Huffing, I start pushing my luggage into the overhead. Quidditch training has helped a lot in terms of heavy lifting. I am, however, too short. I jump, trying to push it up higher into place. My hands miss. The luggage falls.

"Dios mío!" I yelp.

I cover my head with my arms, bracing myself for impact. Impact that doesn't come.

"Careful there. I don't think Tan would be happy with an injured chaser when term hasn't even started yet." A familiar voice says. I turn and see James Potter sliding the door closed behind him. His waves his wand again and my luggage settles into place. Something pounds in my head. He got even taller over the summer.

"Um, thanks." I say sheepishly. I guess I'm embarrassed because I got saved by the enemy Quidditch captain.

"Why didn't you use your wand? Are you not a witch, Reyes?"

I almost roll my eyes. My wand is tucked behind my ear. I cross my arms. "I stay in muggle London for the summer, Potter. I don't usually rely on magic."

"Ah." He nods. "Well, just let me hide out here for a moment. In a few seconds, Nott will run down the corridor and yell for my head on a silver platter. I'd go to a different one but all the other Slytherins are not as friendly as you."

With a jolt, I remember that I am talking to one of the school's pranksters. I push past him and open the compartment door. "God, what did you do?"

He pushes it closed and grins down at me. That damned Weasley grin. "Fred and Olivia aren't here yet. I was bored. And I have a new set of WWWs."

Internally, I'm swearing. I need to force him out because I don't want to be the object of Jacob Nott's fury. I hear an explosion outside. Too late to force him out. I tap my wand onto his head. He blends into the background.

There's an outraged cry and I hear doors being flung open. Nott's screaming could be heard from a mile away. Before I can do the same spell on myself as I did to James, Nott flings open the door.

"POTTER. WHERE IS HE?" He screams in my face. He's drenched in a blue smelly dye and his always well-kept hair has been blown up. Dye drips from his robes and down onto the floor. I supress my laughter. The snob looks ridiculous right now.

Calming my heartbeat, I look at him dead in the face. "I don't know. And get a hold of yourself, Nott. You're being unruly and unreasonable. Once Madison comes in a few seconds, she'll be glad to report your behaviour. And we all know how punctual she is."

Nott scoffs and snarls at me. "Screw you, Reyes. Potter is going to rue this."

He left, dripping blue dye behind him. I sigh, waving my wand at the mess. It cleans itself up and I close the doors. I turn to the still transparent James, tapping his head. He grins. "Bloody hell. That was brilliant."

"No, it was not." I say. "I just aided and abetted."

"But it was fun." He ruffles his curly hair and leans down to stare at me at the same level (because I'm a head shorter but that's not important). I can count the freckles sprayed across his nose. I can see the red tinge in his dark locks. I can see the scar he got when he fell in the Great Hall and a large gash split his eyebrow apart, travelling down to his cheekbone. "You're a really good liar. Be proud of it."

I want to protest but he winks and leaves before I can say anything.

I know I'm a good liar. I've known it for six years and a little more. It's not something that I can or even want to be proud of. James Potter knew nothing of how good of a liar I am.

"Was that James sodding Potter?" Maddie enters the compartment with Matt and Benedict following closely behind her. The prefect badge on her robes looks so shiny. "James 'Playboy' Potter was alone in one room with our dearest Catalina. I think he needs to be warned off."

"Cállate." I groan, sinking down into the seat by the window.

"Was he poking for Quidditch secrets?" Benedict asks, a silver Quidditch captain badge gleamed on his shirt. "Well, joke's on him. I've been too lazy to strategize for the season. I plan to improvise on our each and every game."

I roll my eyes. "He pranked Nott down the hall and hid in here."

"And you helped him? Where's the house loyalty?" Matt exclaims.

"It's not like I had much of a choice!" I argue.

James' mischievous grin floats into my head. His words echo in my head again. I refuse to recognise that I'm a good liar. But he was right. It was fun.