Hey! Sorry it took a while to update. Lots of unhappy stuff happened. Story is (I hope) getting better. Thank you and R&R!

So the song for this chapter is "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beattles.

It kind of fits, just like she got knoced out and so she is remembering happier times...the whole shibang. It starts after the second line break.

Hope you enjoy! =)

I lowered my wand and looked down at the ground. I needed to figure a way out of this. It didn't make any sense. I thought that I had made that clear in the common room yesterday. When we planned for the break out of Draco, nothing was mentioned that Harry was going to be upset.

Harry Potter was the one who now raised his wand up at me. Anger took place as the emotion running across his face instead of compassion. Rain made his hair stick to his head and finally held the unruly locks of his in place.

"Harry, scaring her isn't the way to go. It will only make her less cooperative," called out the man who had held me back from funning to Draco. I turned my head to see that it was my old Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin. He had been, well, I guess fired, in my third year because he was a werewolf. I thought that was one of the best years we ever had.

"She needs to understand what happened. Things changed, and she wasn't told," he called out again; the voice of reason in the thunderstorm of messes.

"No!" yelled Harry. "She doesn't need to know. This is between me and Malfoy." I flinched; I knew how much he hated it when people called him that. I probably knew more about him than the so called friends of his Crabbe and Goyle.

I was brought out of my thoughts by having a wand shoved into my throat. "Ouch! Get away from me, Harry!" I stumbled backwards three steps and tripped over Draco, who was still lying on the ground. Very confused now, I look up into the pelting rain too see Harry raise his wand one more time, point it at me, and yell, "stupefy!" the last thing I see is Lupin run into my vision, then nothing.

When I was little, I always knew that there must be bigger things in this world than going to school, then college if you were lucky, and then to work for the rest of your life. This was so true I could have been a prophecy writer for myself.

The first day I met our neighborhood boy, I was about seven. He was on the swing set and took the middle swing, which everyone knew was the best. I walked up to the back of him and said, "Hi, my name is Annabelle, I was wondering if I could use that swing."

I think that day I was wearing a red and white striped shirt under my littler overalls. With my wild brown hair tamed and pulled back into two identical pig tails, I must say I looked adorable. I had dirt on my knees, although I always did, and a little on my hands. All I could see of the kid on the swings was his white blond hair and his black turtle neck shirt. He was still swinging gently, more of just going with the wind. He seemed sad, so I decided he needed that swing more than I did and sat next to him. He turned to me then and said, "Hi, I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." He had gorgeous grey eyes that were like a storm cloud. I remembered seeing those same colors over the ocean at Christmas time when I went to the beach with my family.

He jumped down from the swing, but just stood there in front of me. I tilted my head and asked, "Which house is yours?" He pointed to the mansion down the street. High gates surrounded the outside, and an ominous figure was carved into the front opening part with a family crest. I quickly glanced back to my little home, with the small white picket fence and large flower bed, hoping he wouldn't ask me the same question. My house was four houses away, and this was close enough to be friends. I was positive.

He picked up a rock and threw it into the lake that resided near the playground. We watched it skip across for five bounces, and then drop under. I asked him more questions, like his favorite color, his favorite food, what he did on the weekends. Little kid talk. I found out that he was the same age as me, his favorite color was green, his favorite food was macaroni and cheese, and on the weekends he traveled with his family.

We sat swinging and throwing rocks for hours. At the time, I thought we were already the best of friends. At that age, you can't really gage things on real emotions.

After a while, he still looked upset, so I asked just one more question. "Why are you so sad? We should be playing tag now." The corners of his mouth lifted into a gentle smile, but he continued to look at the ground ahead of him and not me. He seemed like he wasn't really sure, and that he had to come up with an answer before responding. "It's my dad. I keep letting him down, and I don't know why." He looked up at me as if to ask for an answer, but I was too young to understand how important this was to him. Disappointment, responsibility, and frustration were all far beyond what I could feel yet. Confusion, though, I could.

Very confused and questionable, I said, "Why don't you just tell him you love him? I tell my daddy that all the time, and he isn't dip-a-point-end with me." I beamed. I tried my big words on Draco and he smiled. Oblivious to the fact that he didn't really act like a creature with loving parents, I thought that this would solve everything. He left the park that day looking a little cheerier, but I missed him in days to come.

As the summer days ended, it started to cool off and become rainy. I never really saw Draco again that summer, but I looked for him at the park. I wanted to find out about his dad, I was curious. My mum said that I told him the right thing, so I hoped it had worked.

The next time I saw the boy was one morning in late October. He was in the park again, but this time he looked like he needed to be alone. I watched him cry on the swings from my tree across the street. Later that day I made cookies that had "I'm sorry" written on them. I didn't talk to him for two years after that.

By that time we were nine. Steadily growing and constantly changing, we crossed paths. As soon as I saw him, I was infatuated. His hair hadn't lost that white blond sheen like so many boy's had. And he had just gotten cuter over the years. But there was still that element of sadness etched into his features. I always had thought back to our first, and well, only, conversation. Just the way he was upset makes me mad now. And all because of his father.

I was sitting in my tree house after my cat had to be put down. It was pouring rain and freezing, but I didn't care. It never bothered me when it rained. Crying, I heard the sound of someone climbing up my ladder. I just figured it was my mum or something, but then the blond hair appeared and I was filled with mixed emotions. Grief for my cat, anger at the world, and that childish first feeling of love. When he reached the top, he came and sat next to me.

"I am sorry about your cat." He said plainly enough. "I saw her running around my house sometimes, and she was fun to watch try and catch the birds," this came with a weak smile.

The thought made me smile; my cat thought she was just a small tiger in a cat's body. Draco moved closer to me and just let his arm rest around my back. I leaned into him so that my head could rest on his shoulder. It felt nice to just have an understanding embrace; even from Draco.

After that, we were almost inseparable. We would play in the park all day and then talk in my tree house until dark. Sometimes, his father would come and yell at him. If this happened, I wouldn't see him for a few days after.

Around the summer before we were turning eleven though, something happened that I will never forget. My mother had called that she had made cookies for us and that we could eat them. Draco climbed down my ladder and waited while I grabbed the blanket we had brought up to sit on. As I started down, I lost my footing and started to fall. Still five or six feet up; I knew that I would break my arm if I landed too hard, but I threw out my hands anyways. About two feet from the ground, I stopped falling. I was just suspended in mid air; floating. With awe painted across my face, I looked up at Draco who had the same thing written on his face.

As it turns out, I had a good amount of magic that flowed through my veins. Draco explained to me all about magic and wizards and the school he was planning on attending. At first I thought that this was rubbish; but then I noticed other things that I could do without touching things. Towards the end of the summer, I got the letter. It invited me to join others of my kind at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was so excited that I could do something by myself!

At first, my parents were against it. But Draco had his mum and dad come talk to mine and explain the benefits of having a witch in the family, (although they looked pretty set against me going, too). I heard them talking about "bad blood" or something. Draco never told me what they were talking about.

So I went to Diagon Alley and bought the necessary items for a first year witch. Wand, cauldron, robes, books, and a moon-faced barn owl named Blinky. When I first saw him, he just blinked his big eyes at me. I thought he was gorgeous.

Along rolled the first of September and I found myself on the platform of nine and ten. The letter said nine and three quarters, but I thought that crazy. I found someone who worked there and asked him.

"Blimey! We still have them nutters sendin' kids about this 'nine-an'-three-quarters' business. The next one '-oo asks will be sent straight to the crazy house, mark my words." And wandered off shaking his head.

Well, this is bound to turn into one strange year, I thought. The first person I meet is thinking that I am crazy. I guess it can only go up from here!

How wrong I was indeed.

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