Hey, guys! I know it's been a very long time, but here you go.

I own nothing you recognize

Chapter VI:

Mental Battles and Quidditch

Throughout the next few days, all Phoebe heard about was Harry Potter. Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that. But that's not what surprised her. She figured that would happen. What surprised her was the amount of contempt her fellow Slytherins spoke of the Wizarding legend. For example, Draco made fun of him relentlessly while relaxing after supper in the common room. But she was even more surprised by Ron's reactions to when Draco went to their table to tease them.

Sure, she had been shown part of the Weasleys hatred for the Malfoys early in her schooling, but this was just crazy. He openly sneered, not to mention that Phoebe could hear the equal contempt in his voice. The first day of classes, Draco told her about how Professor Snape, the Potions master, had masterfully picked on "Potter" and how he "didn't know a single thing!"

She was escorted to classes by her favourite Weasley, Fred. To both of their surprise, Fred and Phoebe had close classes for almost all hours. She might have Charms and he might have Transfiguration. At lunch, Phoebe would separate form Fred with a lingering hand on his arm to sit with her brother and his friend. But on the first Wednesday of semester, Fred kept his hold on her.

"Today, you will sit with me." He told her, dragging her over to where his twin and Ron were sitting with Harry. "Please?" He asked as an afterthought. Phoebe sighed and plopped next to Harry and set her head in her hands.

"Something wrong, Phoebe?" Harry's voice broke the small group's silence while they gathered food.

"No, just getting used to the schedule of the year." She answered, lifting her head and reaching for the salad bowl. Harry made a noise of agreement as he took a bite of his steak and kidney pie. But that night, her brother complained about missing her at lunch while Draco talked over him about sitting with the enemy.

From that point on, Phoebe made a mental note to sit at the Gryffindor table on Wednesdays. A few days after this, she saw in the common room notice board that the first years flying lessons would begin soon. She also saw that the Slytherins were paired with the Gryffindors for lessons. She heard her brother groan next to her.

"Ugh, flying lessons with Potter! This will be fun." But then Blaze's face lit up like he got an idea. "Me and Draco can show off our stellar flying in front of Potter!"

"But who taught you those 'stellar flying' skills?" Phoebe asked him as she smacked his arm lightly. He mumbled something like 'You did' or 'Katie did' before leaving for the library.

The following day was filled with how "Potter is such an idiot, and so full of himself" from Draco.

"But he just had to go and make a fool out of me. I mean, I am so going to kill him if he gets away with it." He griped.

"Well, you know, maybe you should think about what could happen to you if you get hurt or expelled for hurting someone." Phoebe snapped. The whole comment turned to gape at her.

"What?" she asked the room. "Is it wrong to look out for the health of one of my best friends?" She asked harshly. People started to turn red and look back at what they were doing.

"But I thought that you wouldn't really care…" Draco started. "I mean, about Potter hurting me." He amended quickly.

"I will always look out for the people that matter to me." Phoebe deadpanned before getting up and going to her room. The Slytherins were lucky. They got individual rooms. Fred had told her that the Gryffindors had dorms of five people. Phoebe could never have done that. When she closed her door, she locked it and slid to the floor. Tears started leaking out of her eyes as she thought of how truthful her statement was.

She would die before anyone hurt those she loved. She would go against the Dark Lord to save Harry one more time. She should have. She should have saved him from being all alone for eleven years. She could have jumped in front of him. She might have died as well, but then she wouldn't have to deal with the guilt. Taking a shaky gasp, she lurched up and to her bedside table.

She opened the top drawer and took out her picture frame. She looked down at the picture and took deep breaths. She looked at the faces staring up at her. The picture had been taken the summer she had spent with Fred, George, and Angelina. They had gone to the beach for a week and Phoebe had bought a disposable muggle camera to take photos. She had spent a few hours explaining to the two wizards and witch what the point was.

But they had all gotten copies of the memories. Phoebe had framed the one of the four of them sitting in the sand, facing the sunset. Fred had tucked her under his arm next to him, trying to keep her warm. George and Angelina had sat rather close to each other on the other side of Fred. She smiled as she looked down at how happy she and Fred looked. Taking a deep breath, she set the frame upright on her dresser and took a tissue from the box and wiped her tears away.

Zabinis don't cry. She had homework to do anyway.

The following Tuesday, Phoebe was walking down to the Quidditch pitch for tryouts with Draco and Blaze at her heels, her Nimbus 1000 on her shoulder. Slytherin Quidditch captain Marcus Flint smiled when he saw her. She smiled back.

"You know, we wouldn't give up your spot for anything, Zabini." He told her with a smirk.

"Yeah, but what if someone comes along who is better at it than me?" Phoebe told him with sarcasm.

"That will be a really tragic day when that happens. You've almost never lost us a game." Flint proclaimed with arms open. Phoebe hummed in disagreement.

"Draco might give me a run for my money." She looked at him to see that the tips of his ears were turning pink. Flint scoffed.

"Yeah, well, we can only have one seeker on the team, and first years aren't aloud. But you want to get flying?" he asked her. She nodded and straddled her broom, pushing off the ground. She got the usual rush of excitement of being in the air, fifty feet off the ground. She flew around the pitch before nodding to Flint to release the Snitch. She gave the yellow ball three minute's head start before streaking after it. She had caught it within four minutes.

"Broke your personal record, Zabini." Flint called to her as she landed on the ground with a soft thump. "You are most assuredly on the team. You can go do whatever. I'll come find you for practice schedules." Phoebe nodded and walked off the pitch, meeting Blaze and Draco at the entrance.

Phoebe watched as an owl swooped into breakfast a few weeks later. It was carrying a broom-shaped parcel. Curious, she watched as it dropped the parcel in front of Harry, who had a look of complete shock on his face.

"What the -" Draco exclaimed. His eyebrows drew together, forming a scowl. "That's a broom. First years aren't allowed brooms." He got up and stormed over to where Harry and Ron had hurried out of the hall. Phoebe looked at the teacher's table and saw little Professor Flitwick making his way down the hall as well. She turned to her brother.

"Care to explain what happened at flying practice?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Nothing," he said. "Longbottom fell off his broom and broke his wrist, Draco stole his thing from his gran, and Potter got all bothered. Draco and him had a flying bout, ending in Potter getting taken away by Professor McGonagall. Nothing interesting happened."

"Nothing interesting?" Phoebe asked, turning pale and feeling sick. "Both of them could have died." She heard feet approaching. Looking around, she saw Draco with Fred a few paces behind him.

"You know, I didn't think about that." Blaze muttered.

"He got a broom. And he had the audacity to blame me for it." Draco hissed as he plopped into his seat. Fred came up behind Phoebe and put his hands on her shoulders. The entire Slytherin table glared daggers at him, but he was focused on her.

"You alright? Saw you just about have an aneurism or something. You know you're not supposed to have too much excitement."

"Nothing happened. Just Harry Potter getting taken away to McGonagall's office!" Phoebe shouted.

"Hey, it's not the end of the world, he'll live. Why do you care anyways?" Her brother asked her.

She paused. She had never told anyone about the fact that Harry was her brother, not even Fred. She didn't know what to say. So she thought quickly.

"I just think the world would be a better if the one person who might save us from the Dark Lord rising again and destroying everything stayed in school to learn to defend himself." She said thoughtfully.

Everyone looked surprised. But then angry, as if they thought this meant she was for the other side now. But she quickly got up and left the table, Fred at her heels. She raced to the seventh floor and turned. Fred was right behind her, coming to a sudden stop in front of her.

"Fred, please. You should go. I'll be fine. I promise." Phoebe told him.

"But-" Fred started. He checked himself. " Right. You know where to find me if you need me, Correct?" She nodded. "Okay. Don't forget about classes." He bent his neck and placed a kiss on her forehead. As he walked in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, Phoebe turned back to the wall behind her. She closed her eyes and started pacing. She kept thinking the same thing over and over again, I need a place to be alone, and think about my family.

On the third walk back, Phoebe opened her eyes and looked at the wall. There was a door that was somewhat familiar to her, as if from a memory. Disregarding this, she walked through the door and entered into a nursery. She was very familiar with this room, as she spent so much time in the room. It was an exact replica of the nursery that was in her childhood home. There was a crib, painted white with light pink and blue flowers on the frame in the corner. There was some toys on the wall across from the door and a bookshelf similarly painted to the crib. On the other wall, there was Phoebe's desk and bookshelf. She had imagined them in the room after a few days at the beginning so she could do more than just remember the things that happened in that room

She didn't know how the Room was how it was, but She found comfort in the familiarity when all was falling apart around her, like when Blaise was mad at her for not talking about her old family to him. He asked so many questions. . . It would eventually going to get him in trouble. Possibly Phoebe sized trouble.

But right now, she needed something. She needed to write to her godfather. Phoebe sat at her desk and pulled a piece of parchment out of a drawer. She took a quill out of the holder on the desk and dipped it in the fresh pot of ink that was waiting for her. What would she say? She knew she could never send it, much like the other thousands of letters she had written him.

Dearest Godfather,

I don't really know what to write. I wanted to ask you something about my brother, but I'm unsure if it would stay. . . between us. I just want to talk to him like a normal sister would, ask him how he is, what his life at Aunt's was like. How he was doing with the whole Hogwarts thing. But I'm scared he'll be so appalled by me, that it's impossible for me to say anything. I wish you were here. I think that would be good for him. He acts as though he know nothing about the wizarding world, but how is that possible? He should know at least a few normal mannerisms of a wizard! But it's as if all his life he was raised with no idea that this world even existed. Not to mention Dragon isn't his biggest fan, Embers following close behind him. I thought they would get along. You know? Well, anyway. Studies are going well, I made the Quidditch team! Do you think Dad would be proud? I just know brother made the team too, they just are keeping it hush-hush. First years aren't supposed to have brooms, after all. I should go to class, so that's gonna be all now. I miss you.

Sincerely,

Phoebe

She blew on the parchment and put it in an envelope and labeled it. She would write to her godfather at least once a week. It helped her to work through all the stuff in her life. She looked at her watch in sudden remembrance of her classes. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts in five minutes. She shoved the letter in the desk and flew to her classroom, sweeping her bag off the floor.

I know it was boring, but as i have said, the writer's block is very large for this story. I know it's frustrating as a reader, but it's just as frustrating as a writer. If you could drop some ideas down in a review, i would appreciate it. You can help dictate the way the story goes, because i have no memory of where i wanted this to go. I will probably discontinue it if no one says anything.

Well, that's it, so bye!