A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for taking so long to update. I had planned to try to do one chapter a week, but I've been taking extra shifts at work, so by the time I get home, I'm just too tired to do anything but go to bed. Thanks so much for anyone who had been sticking with me, and thank you for the fantastic reviews. Remember, I would love to hear any ideas you might have about the story. And as always, I do not own anything Potter related.

Despite Dumbledore's advice, Annabelle spent the following month trying to talk to Harry. It didn't work, though, because every time that she tried to get close enough to him to say something to him, he would shoot her a dirty look and walk away, his friends shooting her confused looks before following. It hurt that he wouldn't so much as say a word to her, but Annabelle refused to give up; he couldn't hate her forever, could he?

Most days, she had to sneak around so her friends wouldn't know what she was doing. Because of Harry's reaction to her, she had decided to continue to be called 'Delacour', and no one else knew that she was Harry's sister, so they would think that she was just being weird following a second year boy around like a little puppy.

This was made easier for her, though, one morning in early October. She was sitting at Gryffindor table with the girls, barely listening as Alicia and Margie discussed the boys in their year. The other girls were very interested in the topic of conversation, and frequently added their own opinions, but Annabelle couldn't care less. She had too much on her mind to even think about boys.

"What do you think, Anna?" Alicia asked.

"About what?" Annabelle asked, looking up from her plate.

"Were you honestly not paying attention?" Margie scoffed. "Come on, Anna, this is important; it's a matter of life and death, here."

"What were we talking about?" Annabelle asked them curiously. Had the topic changed drastically in the five minutes that she had stopped listening.

"Whether or not Morgan Quiticker is good-looking enough to overlook his geekiness," Margie stated, rolling her eyes.

"I hardly think that's a matter of life and death," Annabelle replied, grinning.

"Um…hello, dating him could be possible social suicide," Margie said, speaking as though Annabelle was stupid.

Annabelle laughed and shook her head. "Guys, I have better things to think about than whether this boy is good enough to date."

"And so do the rest of you," came a deep voice from behind them.

Annabelle turned to look over her shoulder and saw one of the sixth year boys standing behind them, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at them. Annabelle had never spoken to the boy, but she had definitely seen him, and knew exactly who he was; everyone knew Oliver Wood.

"Oh no," Alicia groaned, dropping her head onto the table.

"What do you want, Oliver?" Angelina asked.

"We start practice tomorrow, girls," he replied, looking cheerful. "We need to be in top form. There can be no reruns from last year; we will win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"It's none of our faults that we didn't win last year," Alicia said, looking very grumpy. "Harry was in hospital, Wood. We'll have no problem winning this year."

Annabelle was suddenly much more interested in the conversation; she didn't know that Harry was on Gryffindor's quidditch team.

"Well we're going to have to work hard to make sure," he stated. "Eight o'clock tomorrow morning, girls. Be ready."

He walked away and hurried down the table to talk to the Weasley twins.

"Urg, that means that we have to be up and in the Great Hall by seven if we want something to eat first," Alicia complained.

"This won't be our earliest morning," Angelina said glumly. "At least the sun will be up for this practice."

"Well, I hope you girls have fun with that," Margie laughed.

"What?" Angelina glared at her. "Are you not coming with us?"

"At seven in the morning? I don't think so; I plan to still be sleeping then, so try to be quiet when you get up, will you?"

"Olivia?" Alicia asked, looking at the other girl. "Are you going to come down with us?"

"Well, I was hoping to sleep in a little bit tomorrow," Olivia replied quietly, not looking at either of the girls. "And, well, I'm not really into quidditch all that much…"

"Oh, never mind," Angelina snapped.

"I'll go with you," Annabelle said quickly. "I've never really seen quidditch played before."

"What?" Angelina and Alicia looked at her like she had said something completely inappropriate.

"Did you just say that you've never seen quidditch?" Oliver Wood, who had been leaning on the table as he spoke to Harry, stood up and made his way back up the table looking furious.

"Um, yes, I did," Annabelle replied, feeling more than a little bit uncomfortable. People all along the table, and several people at the next, were staring at her. "Well, not really; I used to watch the boys playing on the weekend, but it wasn't a real team or anything, just the boys playing around. Really, it's not that big of a sport in France. And girls weren't supposed to play, anyway; it's not very lady-like."

"Bullshit!" Angelina yelled angrily. "What do they think they're doing, not teaching you quidditch? It's brilliant."

"I've always wanted to see a real game," Annabelle said quickly. "I've just never had the chance. I don't even know how it works."

"Well, don't you worry," Oliver said, squeezing himself onto the bench between Annabelle and Angelina. "I'll teach you all about it." And he was off, explaining every little detail about the sport to an enthused Annabelle until the warning bell sounded.

"I have to go!" Annabelle exclaimed, jumping up from the table. She hadn't realized that everyone else had left, and that only she and Oliver remained in the Great Hall. "I'm going to be late for class."

"Where are you headed?" Oliver asked her.

"Potions," she replied.

"Shit, Snape's going to kill you!" he cursed. "Do you want me to come with you, to take some of the blame?"

"No, it's fine," Annabelle said. "I'll see you later."

She dashed across the Entrance Hall and ran down the many stairs to the classroom in the dungeons, making it through the door just as the bell rang to start class.

"You are very nearly late, Miss Delacour," Professor Snape drawled as she made her way to her seat.

"I know," she replied. "I'm sorry, Professor, I lost track of time; Oliver Wood was teaching me about quidditch."

"See that it doesn't happen again," he said sternly before turning to the blackboard.

"I don't see how you never get in trouble," Margie muttered as Annabelle sat down and began to set up her cauldron.

"I don't see how you could all have just got up and walked away without telling me," Annabelle countered. "I almost missed class."

"No one wanted to interrupt," Margie smirked. "You seemed to be very interested in what Oliver was telling you. Much more so than to what the girls and I were saying; I think you must fancy him."

Annabelle blushed madly, but tried not to let Margie see. Obviously she thought that the Quidditch captain was good-looking; she would have to be blind not to. But that didn't mean than she fancied him. She hardly knew the boy.

Seven o'clock the next morning came much earlier than Annabelle expected it to. Alicia had had to hit her several times with her pillow before Annabelle had been able to crawl out of bed. Both Angelina and Alicia were already dressed in their red quidditch robes, and sat on their beds talking quietly while Annabelle got ready.

"Ready?" Alicia asked when Annabelle came out of the bathroom.

"Oui," Annabelle replied. "Let's go."

The girls had barely sat at the table with the rest of the team (which Annabelle was pleased to see her brother and his friends among them) when Oliver Wood arrived.

"Are you lot ready?" he asked, looking down at them.

"We just got here, Wood," Angelina said. "Let us get something to eat first."

"Well hurry up," he snapped.

"You said practice would be at eight," she growled at him. "It's not even seven thirty yet, so you can just shut your face."

Oliver grumbled under his breath but sat down with the rest of his team. He looked around darkly at them until he spotted Annabelle sitting between her two friends.

"Good morning, Annabelle," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning," she replied, smiling brightly at him.

"You coming down to watch?"

"Yes, of course," she said. "I only hope I can follow along with that is happening."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," he assured her. "Do you remember everything I taught you yesterday?"

"I think so," she frowned as she tried to remember.

"What is the name of the balls?"

"There's a quaffle," Annabelle stated. "And two bludgers and a snitch."

"Good, and what are they for?"

The quizzing continued all through breakfast and all the way across the school grounds to the quidditch pitch. Finally, the only other girl on the team snapped.

"Oliver, would you leave the poor girl alone?" she said in exasperation. "You're grilling her even more than you do us, and she's not even part of the team."

"She shouldn't be here then," Harry muttered just loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"Hey, you bring Hermione and this twat to practices with you," one of the Weasley twins said, frowning at Harry. "So you can't say anything."

Harry's face reddened, but he said nothing more.

"We'll be out in a few minutes," Oliver told her as they came to the changing rooms. "You can go sit in the benches if you want."

Annabelle nodded and hurried off to find a seat. To her surprise, Harry's friends followed her.

"Hi," the girl said. "I'm Hermione Granger. And this is Ron Weasley."

"I know who you are," Annabelle smiled at them.

"You're Harry's sister, right?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Oh, he told you, did he?" Annabelle asked, honestly very surprised. "I thought that he'd just decided that he was going to hate me."

"He does," the red headed boy said. "He doesn't say anything really nice about you."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "That's not true."

"I'm sure it is," Annabelle said. "He doesn't seem to like me at all."

"He is angry," Hermione said slowly. "But I know that he'll get over it eventually. I mean, he can't hate his sister forever."

"We'll see," Annabelle sighed. "But I hope you're right."

"What's going on?" Ron asked suddenly, looking down at the pitch. Annabelle and Hermione turned to look. A group of boys in green robes were making their way across the field. Annabelle looked up to see that Oliver Wood was streaking towards the ground, his face furious. The rest of the team followed.

"Flint!" Oliver shouted at the Slytherin captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Oh dear," Annabelle said, jumping to her feet. "I can see this ending in a fight." She hurried down the stairs and onto the field, Hermione and Ron following closely behind her. She ran across the field to stand next to Angelina. Ron stepped up next to Harry.

"I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You've got a new Seeker?" Wood asked distractedly. "Where?"

A boy stepped out from behind the others wearing a wide smirk sprawled across his face. He had a pointed, pale face and white blonde hair, and Annabelle thought that he didn't look very friendly.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked one of the Weasleys, not looking impressed.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

As one, all seven people dressed in green held out their broomsticks for the others to see. They had long, shiny black handles with gold lettering at the top. To Annabelle, one broomstick looked much like another, but they must have been nice, because the entire Gryffindor team were staring at them with their mouths hanging open.

"Very latest model; only came out last month," said Flint carelessly. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps," - he smiled nastily at the Weasley twins - "sweeps the board with them."

No one on the Gryffindor team seemed able to say anything for a few minutes, and then Ron let out a sigh of admiration.

"Good, aren't they?" said the Malfoy boy. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team laughed loudly, and Annabelle was suddenly furious. She opened her mouth to say something, but Hermione beat her to it.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way onto the team," the girl said sharply. "They all got in on pure talent."

The smile on the blonde Malfoy boy's face flickered and he scowled deeply at her. "No one asked you're opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Annabelle's mouth dropped open as the words came from the boy's mouth. She had never in her life met someone so rude and, although she knew very well what the word meant, she had never actually heard it used in a conversation. She wanted to do or say something to him, but before she could even think, everyone else had already acted. The captain of the Slytherin team had to jump in front of the boy to prevent the Weasley's from jumping on him.

"How dare you?" Alicia shrieked, looking absolutely disgusted.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron pulled out his wand, which seemed to be bound together with Spellotape, and pointed it at the other boy. Annabelle didn't think that it was a good idea for him to use his wand, but before she could say anything, there was a loud bang and a green light shot out of the wrong end of the wand, hitting Ron square in the chest. He was bowled over backwards onto the grass, clutching at his stomach.

"Ron! Ron!" Hermione squealed, running to his side. "Are you alright?"

Ron looked very sick, and when he opened his mouth to speak, several large slugs came out with a loud belch.

"O mon Dieu!" Annabelle cried, covering her mouth with her hands. "That is disgusting."

The other girls seemed to think the same way, but the Slytherin quidditch team were roaring with laughter. The Gryffindors were all standing around Ron as he continued to burp up slugs, no one wanting to touch him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's," Harry said finally to Hermione. "It's nearest."

"I'll help," Annabelle said, stepping forward, but Harry, with his arm around his friend, glared at her.

"I don't need your help," he said sharply.

Annabelle stopped and nodded slowly, looking at the ground.

"Hey, Potter!" Oliver growled at him. "You do not talk to a lady like that!"

"It's fine," Annabelle said quickly. "I don't care."

A small boy who Annabelle had never seen before hurried up to them, a Muggle camera grasped tightly in his hands.

"What happened, Harry?" he asked in a high voice. "What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?"

Ron chose that moment to expel another mouthful of slugs out onto the grass. Annabelle felt her stomach clench at the sight of it, but the small boy seemed to be fascinated.

"Ooh," he said, looking mesmerized. He lifted his camera up. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Get out of the way, Colin," Harry said angrily. He and Hermione slowly made their way away from the rest of the group in the direction of the gamekeeper's hut.

"Well, I guess that's the end of our practice," Angelina said, not sounding upset at all.

"Why do these things keep happening to us?" Oliver growled, watching as his Seeker disappeared from sight.

"Because your team is full of losers," one of the Slytherin boys replied, still laughing. "You can't honestly expect to win with a group like that, can you, Wood?"

Wood glared at him, and the Weasleys seemed ready to fight again, so Annabelle stepped in and put a hand on each of their arms.

"Don't," she said softly. "If you get into a fight, then you'll get into a lot of trouble."

"She's right," Katie Bell replied. "You might even get taken off the team."

"Let's go," Oliver said quickly. "We'll go over strategy in the Common Room."

The rest of the team groaned, but no one complained. They all followed their Captain back up to the school. Annabelle shot the Slytherins one more glare before following them.

"What's up with Harry?" Alicia asked as they entered the Entrance Hall. "I wonder why he's being so mean to you."

"I have no idea," Annabelle lied.