Chapter 3: Truth or Lies

It was Saturday. Incase you've forgotten, I'll remind you that today is when the Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts are being held. All of the sporty people in our house were very excited as the trials were actually going to mean something this year. However, no one was looking forward to it more than Steve. He was hoping to go down in history as the first captain to win Hufflepuff the Quidditch cup in over a century. He was also kind of nervous though. Hufflepuff didn't usually hold Quidditch trials. They usually just gave the spots to whoever wanted them. Steve was a little worried he would hold the trials wrong (whatever he means by that). That was why I was going to come with him to help out.

It was early in the morning and Steve and I were walking to the Quidditch Pitch. Our arms were laden with Quidditch supplies and I was starving. Steve and I had to skip breakfast because he wanted to get there early to prepare. Doesn't he know how important breakfast is? "Don't you know how important breakfast is?" I asked him as we walked.

"You're still thinking about that?" He sighed irritably. Now I felt bad. I knew this was all stressing him out. I should have kept my mouth shut. "Stop feeling bad," he told me. My friends know me so well. "I'm sorry for making you skip breakfast and I know you're hungry but I really need your help," he continued, "You don't even have to stay the whole time. Just until I've got the tryouts started and then you can leave to grab breakfast. Alright?"

"Right," I answered, "Sorry." He rolled his eyes at my apology.

We finally got to the pitch only to find that it was already occupied. It appeared that the Gryffindor Quidditch team was having an early practice session. Steve dumped his stuff on the ground and stomped almost angrily onto the pitch. I sighed at his anger before putting what I was carrying down and going to follow him. Steve was stressed right now and he tended to lash out a little when he was stressed. The last thing we needed right now was a confrontation with the Gryffindors.

Two of them had already landed and started talking with Steve. I couldn't hear what they were saying but as I got closer I realised the Gryffindors were Potter and his cousin Fred Weasley II. I ran the rest of the way and soon reached them.

"But the Hufflepuffs never use their tryout time," Potter was arguing. You see, the school always gives all the houses a time for them to hold tryouts on the pitch, but it is up to the captains to schedule practices. It is true that Hufflepuff has never used theirs before.

"Well we're using it this year," Steve replied irritably. I stepped forward and pulled him backwards slightly.

"Look," I said to the two Gryffindors, "This is our tryout time and we plan on using it this year so I'm sorry but we'd appreciate it if you could give us the pitch. It's not too much trouble, is it?"

"Hufflepuff girl!" Potter exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Weasley shot Potter a questioning look.

"What you think she can't play Quidditch because she's a Hufflepuff and a girl?" Steve asked angrily, misinterpreting Potter's exclamation. It was sweet of him to try and defend me though.

"No!" Potter denied quickly, looking slightly alarmed.

"That isn't what he meant, Steve," I half-scolded, "Stop picking fights."

"I'm not picking fights. They are!" Steve argued, angrily gesturing at Potter and Weasley.

"Stop," I told him firmly and he clamped his mouth shut grudgingly. I then turned to address the Gryffindors. "Can you guys just leave and let us have the pitch now?"

"Yes, sorry," Potter said hastily before adding, "But you know I didn't mean that girls can't play Quidditch, right? My mother was a Quidditch player and—"

"Potter, it's okay," I interrupted, "I know what you meant."

"Oh, good," he said with relief.

"So are you actually going to leave anytime soon or are you just going to stand there?" Steve asked rhetorically.

"Alright, we're going already," Potter replied and waved at the Gryffindor players still flying. They all landed and headed over.

"The Hufflepuffs want the pitch right now for tryouts, so I'm afraid we are going to have to continue this another time," Potter explained to his team. There was some groaning and complaints but they all eventually started to leave.

Once Potter had lead the Gryffindors away, Steve went strait back to being nervous. I guess the Gryffindors being here had been a good distraction. "So what do I do first?" I asked him.

"First," he said as he lifted a big bucket full of little white and orange balls, "You enchant all the ping pong balls to fly around like the snitch."

"What's a pig pog?" I asked as he placed the bucket in front of me.

"Really, Dani?" He sighed. "I know both your parents are wizards but how do you not know what ping pong is?"

"Hey! They didn't mention it in Muggle Studies," I said defensively. Steve was a half blood so he knew quite a bit about the muggle world from his muggle born mother. I also knew a fair amount since my grandfather is a muggle and I went to a muggle school until I was Hogwarts age, but I still have quite a few gaps in my muggle knowledge.

"Anyway, you know the spell to enchant these to fly right?" He questioned.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't worry, I've got this."

He nodded and started doing other things as I began to enchant the pig p—no, ping pong balls. It was slow work and there were a lot of them. Now I know why Steve thought we needed to get down here so early.

~o0o~

Steve finally let me go and have breakfast once I had finished enchanting the ping pong balls. The great hall was already starting to empty out by the time I got there. I looked around but didn't see Jess anywhere. She's probably in the library. I did see Potter sitting at the Gryffindor table with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team though. He smiled and nodded at me from his seat. I saw Weasley look from him to me curiously.

I turned away from the Gryffindors and sat down at the Hufflepuff table. My owl was already there, waiting for me with a copy of today's Daily Prophet and a letter. I unrolled the Daily Prophet first and sighed what I saw there had been another murder. The fifth one so far. All of them had been werewolves. At least none of them had been my mother. Yet. I hope the aurors catch these murderers soon. Before they… I didn't even want to think about it. But there was something else too.

Apparently the aurors had released more information about the attacks. All the victims were found near a small puddle of blood that had come out of their ears. What could that mean? Why would their ears be bleeding like that? I opened the letter next and I recognised my dad's handwriting instantly.

Dear Danielle,

I know you must have realised what is going on by now. You're a smart girl and the recent murders can't have been beyond your notice. You've also probably realised what all the victims have in common. I know you were most likely planning to ask me about it soon so I thought I'd save you the trouble. You deserve to be in the loop and I know I hated it when my mum kept things from me in an effort to 'protect' me.

Things are not going very well at the ministry. The aurors are all over the place trying to find the culprits. Only a few people know what the victims have in common and those who don't are growing increasingly worried. Without the key piece of knowledge needed to connect the dots, the attacks look random and that terrifies people.

Now what I am about to tell you is very secret but I know I can trust you not to tell anyone. The murderers have actually been in contact with the ministry. Only some of the higher ups and the people directly involved know. They're a group that are calling themselves the Hunters. They openly admitted in the letter that they were targeting you-know-whats.

But that wasn't all. They said they wanted to purge the world of them forever. They're not just targeting you-know-whats. They're targeting everyone who has ever been scratched by a you-know-what and everyone who has you-know-what blood in them. They intend to murder everyone who has a trace of the you-know-what gene in them. I don't think I need to tell you what that means however, just to be safe I'll tell you anyway.

I don't know how these murderers seem to know who's a you-know-what. You know as well as I do that very few people have access to the list. But it would be foolish of us to hope that they don't know about you and your mother. Sooner or later they will be coming after you. Hopefully we'll be able to stop them before then, but until it is safe I want you to be very careful. Stay at Hogwarts. You should be safe there. Don't go anywhere alone and please don't go to Hogsmeade. It isn't as safe as a lot of people like to believe and your mother and I wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to you. We both love you very much.

Stay safe, love dad.

My hands were shaking as I clutched the letter tightly. I hastily folded the letter and shoved it into my robes before springing to my feet and hastily exiting the hall. The hunger I had been feeling before had completely left my mind at the new information my dad had written me. I had already figured out most of it but to hear it confirmed was worrying. I noticed my dad hadn't actually used the word werewolf. He was probably worried someone else might get a hold of the letter.

I wandered the castle aimlessly as I thought hard about everything I knew. How did these people know if someone was a werewolf? My mind shifted to the list that my dad mentioned in his letter. There was a single list at the ministry that had all the names of werewolves, people scratched by werewolves, and people descendant from werewolves. Few people knew about it but even fewer people had access to it.

As far as I knew the only people who were allowed to look at the list were the people on the list, the Minister of Magic (Kingsley Shacklebolt), the Head Auror (Harry Potter), and the head of the department that handles magical creatures and such (Hermione Granger-Weasley). I doubted Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry Potter, or Hermione Granger-Weasley had anything to do with it, so that narrows it down. But unless the werewolves were murdering themselves it reduces the number of obvious suspects to zero.

Suddenly, I heard a bang and was pulled abruptly from my thoughts. I looked ahead and saw a door that had presumably just been slammed a few paces ahead of me. I slowly moved forward and pulled in open, peaking inside. I watched quietly as a Gryffindor I recognised from a few of my classes kicked the wall in frustration. She stepped back and moaned in pain from the impulsive attempt to knock down a stone wall with her foot.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She jumped and spun around, eyes wide. She was pretty. Her hair was dark and long, while her eyes were a clear blue. She looked stylish and neat, but not like she spends lots of time getting ready. Cute little snitch earrings hung from her ears and somehow weren't tangled in her hair. Personally I found that in itself very impressive. Even now, when she was clearly quite upset, her large lips were curved up into a sad and satirical smile. As if she was amused by her own bitter feelings.

"Yes," she lied after clearing her throat slightly, "I'm completely fine."

"We both know that isn't true," I told her.

"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but can you just leave me alone," the girl snapped. Maybe if I wasn't so stressed out I would have listened to her. However, I need a distraction right now and talking to her might just make the both of us feel better.

"Sometimes talking helps," I told her simply. She sighed heavily.

"I know you probably think you're being nice but I don't need some Hufflepuff sticking her nose in my business," she snarked at me angrily.

"You never know," I persisted.

"You know what?" She said, "Fine. If you want to listen to my problems take a seat because it's going to be a bloody long conversation."

I beamed at her and she rolled her eyes as we both made ourselves comfortable on the floor. "Now where do I start?" The Gryffindor wondered aloud.

"Just say what you feel comfortable saying," I suggested, "There's no hurry."

"Well then," she began after a moment, "I suppose you've already noticed I'm a bitch."

"What?!" I spluttered. That was not what I had been expecting her to say. "How can you say that about yourself?"

"Because it's true, I guess," she replied, "I mean, I don't want to be a bitch. It kind of just happens. Everyone I've ever known has told me I'm a bitch. My so called friends, my siblings, my bo— ex-boyfriend. That means it must be true, right?" She'd said all this like she was discussing the whether. If I wasn't paying attention I would think that none of this affected her at all. But there was a tinge of bitterness in her voice that gave away how much what she told me stung her.

"No it doesn't," I insisted hurriedly, "Why do you think people are calling you that?"

"I don't know. Because I am a bitch," she shrugged, "What does that word really mean anyway? People just kind of throw it around. Are they saying I'm mean, or selfish, or what? What is it about me that everyone seems to find so bitch-like?"

"What do you think people don't like about you?" I pressed.

"Are you going to reply to everything with a question?" she asked incredulously.

"You're stalling," I informed her patiently.

"Fine," she mumbled, "I guess I tend to say things that can be interpreted as offensive. Nothing ever seems to come out of my mouth sounding how I thought it would and I always make such a mess of my friendships that way. I just tell people what I think of them. No bullshit. Then they say I'm a bitch. I'm not trying to make them mad at me. I just don't beat around the bush." She'd lost her casual tone somewhere in her explanation.

"I can tell you're not a bitch," I said.

She cleared her throat and stood up suddenly. "I don't need your empty words, alright?" She said irately, "You're just saying whatever you think I want to hear because that's what people like you do. What you say doesn't really mean much." I stood up after her and moved to block her way.

"I don't lie," I said calmly. "Everything I say is what I really think. I can tell you're not a bitch because you care so much. I can see it in the way you talk about everything. You hate that you're hurting people's feelings and making them angry at you. You don't like to lie either. You like to be honest with people and you want honesty back. But some people don't like to hear the truth. And so they get hurt and angry and they lash out. They call you a bitch because they're being defensive. Not having a filter doesn't make you a bitch. I don't think anyone's a bitch unless they're actually trying to hurt people. So you are definitely not a bitch. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Well um…" She said hesitantly as her face melted into an almost shy smile, "Thanks."

"No problem," I replied automatically, "I never got your name by the way."

"It's Amelia," she told me, "But call me Millie. And you are…?"

"Danielle," I supplied, "You can call me whatever you want."

"Nice to meet slash unload my insecurities on you," she said shamelessly.

"Err…Nice to meet you too," I said uncertainly. The way she seemed to handle herself so brazenly knocked me off balance slightly. She wasn't afraid to say anything she wanted to. I liked it. "And if you're looking for some great people to be friends with, you can stop by the Hufflepuff table any mealtime and eat with my friends and I."

"Thanks for the offer," she said, "You never know, I might just take you up on it."

Neither of us said much else as we headed out the classroom except for a few quick farewells. I hope she really does come and eat with us sometime. I really like how genuine she is. It's a breath of fresh air. But now that she was gone I was left alone to my thoughts again, and my mind jumped right back to the letter in my pocket.

Lucky for me, my mind wasn't on the letter for long because I soon (figuratively) ran into Potter. "Hufflepuff girl!" He greeted me, "Hi." It was then I realised that although we had spoken three times now, Potter still didn't know what my name was. Should I tell him? Actually, it might be fun to wait and see if he asks me what it is.

"Hey, Potter," I said back.

"I was actually looking for you," he admitted nervously.

"Oh, why?" I asked, "Do you need more advice?"

"No I…" He hesitated and I nodded encouragingly, "I just saw you leaving breakfast quite suddenly without eating anything and was wondering if something was wrong." This took me by surprise.

"Oh um…No," I stuttered slightly, "Nothing is wrong. I just wasn't hungry." I should probably tell you right now that I am terrible at lying. Potter probably realised I was lying right away. However, if he hadn't, my stomach grumbling at that exact moment probably gave me away.

"Sure," he said sarcastically as my face turned pink. He must have decided not to pry just then because instead of asking me why I lied he said, "Breakfast is still available at the moment since it's the weekend. You could probably still go down and eat with the late risers."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll do that," I informed him.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked.

"That's okay," I said, "I saw that you already ate."

"Oh okay," he nodded, "I'll see you around then."

"Yeah. Bye," I said and headed down to the great hall to grab a late breakfast, the letter laying almost forgotten in my pocket. Almost.

And that entire day it didn't occur to me that Potter must have been watching me to notice me leaving breakfast early without eating and that I should wonder why he was doing that. It also didn't occur to me that he might not have just been being nice when he'd offered to go to breakfast with me even though he'd already eaten. Another thing that didn't occur to me was that since I noticed Potter had already eaten, I must have been watching him a little as well. Nope, none of that crossed my mind at all.

~o0o~