Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing you recognize. Well, by now I guess I do own some of the stuff you recognize, because since I'm all the way in the fifth chapter, if I mention Callen in here, you're going to recognize her, so…;) I think I'll shut up now. (Oh yeah, I finally figured out what A/N means…attention! I'm so smart…lol) anyway, if you see something that you don't recognize, you've either slept through my story or it's something new that I added that belongs to me. The End.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Callen tried to keep on going as normally as they could. It was hard, however, with Malfoy popping up all over the place and demanding to know the little facts about Callen.

Malfoy wasn't the only one they were having trouble with. Colin was extremely excited to be in on the secret about Callen, and had to be continually silenced with a Silencing Spell to get him to shut up and not spill the secret.

Snape didn't seem to be helpful, either. One day in Potions, he gave Callen a detention just for dropping her borrowed wand. She stormed into the common room later that night, fuming.

"I swear, if I hadn't promised you I would stay, I would go home right now," she yelled to the other three, who were sitting next to the fire. A couple of the other students gave her strange looks.

Ron quickly attempted to save the situation. "Look, Aunt Emmy told you that you'd have a rough time at Hogwarts since you don't know anyone," he said.

Callen quickly caught on. "I'm sorry. It's just so different from Beauxbatons," she said. The students went back to their work. Callen sighed and sat down.

"I'm sorry, guys," she said softly. "It's hard trying to pretend that I'm your cousin and not just plain old Callen. I miss my home, too," she said, looking upset.

"Well, you've only got a few more weeks here before you can go back," Hermione reminded her.

"Yeah," Callen said, still upset.

"Callen, what's wrong?" Harry asked, sensing something besides what she was talking about.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Callen lied. "I'm just kind of tired. I'm going to go lie down."

She walked up the staircase into the dorm, and sat down on the extra bed that had been squeezed in between Hermione's and Parvati Patil's. She picked up her pillow and hugged it. Why was she feeling so torn about being here? She felt as if she was needed in Ocenian, but she desperately wanted to stay at Hogwarts.

The door opened a crack, and Hermione peeked in. "Are you okay?" she asked concernedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, not even looking up from the dusty floor. She hugged her pillow tighter.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," she said again, still not looking up. Hermione walked over to her and sat down.

"Callen, what's wrong? I know something is," she insisted.

"Nothing is," Callen replied.

"Is it something about your family?" Hermione asked softly.

"Nothing is wrong!" Callen said loudly, hoping that the volume of her voice wouldn't betray the emotion she was attempting to suppress. It didn't.

"It is something about your family, isn't it?" Hermione continued, almost as if she hadn't heard her.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Callen demanded. "It isn't any of you're business!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, slightly taken aback. "I didn't mean to pry."

"Yeah, well, you are, and I don't really feel like telling you about it!" Callen said, turning her back to Hermione. Hermione stood and walked slowly out of the dorm.

Callen buried her face in her pillow, trying to push back the memories. Finally, she gave up and let them all wash over her.

She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, not really seeing it. Instead, she saw the memories of when she was happy – when her parents knew that they had a daughter.

They hadn't always been the way they were now – there had been a time when her mother would go outside and swim with her, and when her father would pick her up and carry her around on his shoulders. When they would go on picnics in the forest. When they would spend an hour each night, tucking her into bed. But when she turned fourteen two years ago, it had all changed.

She had come home from swimming one day to find the maidservant in the kitchen, looking like she'd been slapped.

"What's wrong, Kysha?" she had asked.

Kysha had replied, "The Queen and King just came in and they were acting the most unlike themselves that I've ever seen. When I asked if something was wrong, they didn't even know who I was!" Kysha had been devastated, for she had been serving the royal family since she was ten – she had been twenty at the time.

Callen, determined to find out for herself what was going on, had rushed up to her parents' room to find them exploring it like they had never seen it before.

"Mother, Father, what's going on?" she had asked. They had stared straight past her.

For the next two years, the same thing happened every day. At mealtime, they never even glanced at their daughter and never spoke a word to anyone but each other, and only talked in the old language that the ocean fairies had used, the language that no one else knew.

Callen gave up on trying to get her parents' attention the year before, when the only thing that had happened was her father slapped her, then went back to talking to her mother. She had attempted to run away, but had been caught by Kysha and forced to come back.

Then, when she had had the same dream as Harry, she had been excited to have her mother come in and ask if she was all right after she had screamed. But then, the next day at breakfast, her mother had been the same as before – distant and cold.

Well, at least one of them is coming back with me, she thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Callen went back downstairs an hour earlier, she found Colin waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"Snape sent me to tell you that he wants you for your detention," he said, his voice squeaking.

"Right now?" she asked, dismayed.

"Right now," he confirmed.

She sighed, then crossed to the portrait hole, just as it opened. In walked Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Snape," she said, annoyed. "Detention."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Ron asked.

"No, I'll be fine," Callen said. "I'll see you later tonight. Wait up for me," she added as she walked past them.

"Okay," they chorused.

She walked down to the dungeons slowly, not really wanting to go to detention. But she couldn't avoid getting there eventually, and finally she was standing outside the doorway. She took a deep breath, then walked into the room.

"Ah, yes, Miss Weasley," Snape said in an oily voice. "Sit down." He indicated the seat in front of his desk.

Callen sat, edging the chair as far away from the desk as she possibly dared.

"Now, to discuss what your detention shall be," Snape said in the same oily tone.

"Sir, I don't even know why I got the detention," Callen burst out. "All I did was drop my wand!"

"Causing a disturbance!" Snape snapped, his black eyes glinting. "For your detention, you will be cleaning all the dungeons tomorrow!"

Callen was speechless. "That could take all weekend!" she finally protested.

"Well then, I guess you'd better get started," Snape said, his voice oily again. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Callen. She cringed, expecting him to curse her. Instead, he moved his wand a little to the right and conjured up a huge stone cauldron full of soapy water and a bucket with rags in it. He stood up and stalked out of the room.

Callen waited for the door to slam shut before she let her anger out in a huge scream. When she finished screaming, she simply sat and stared at the cauldron and bucket for a few minutes. Then, with a sigh, she summoned one of the rags and walked over to the cauldron, dipped in the rag, and started scrubbing.

She scrubbed for an hour before the door cracked open. Expecting it to be Snape, she quickly started scrubbing harder. She tried not to look at the door, so as to seem that she was totally absorbed in her work.

"Oh, so now they're turning you into a scullery maid," a familiar voice said. Despite herself, Callen turned to look at the speaker. It was Draco Malfoy. He stood leaning against the wall by the door with his arms crossed across his chest.

"It's not really your business what they do to me," Callen said shortly because she was out of breath. She kept scrubbing.

"You know, you could just use a spell to make the rags do all the work," Malfoy suggested.

"I know," Callen lied. "I just don't want Snape to come in and catch me."

"He won't," Malfoy reassured. "He's in his office."

"What makes you so sure that he won't come back if he's in his office?"

"He just won't, trust me. I have gone here longer than you, and I'm one of his favorites, so if I were you, I would trust me."

Callen sighed, then put down her rag. "All right, tell me the spell."

"I will, but there's a catch," Draco warned.

"What's that?"

"You have to stay here and talk to me. And answer whatever questions I ask you."

She sighed again. She really just wanted to go back up to the dorm and sleep, but talking to Draco beat cleaning the dungeons. "I don't care. Tell me the spell, please."

Draco told her the spell, then sat down in one of the desks. Callen cast the spell, then glanced over at Draco, who indicated the chair across from his. She sat.

"First question," Malfoy said. "How come you never answer my questions?"

"I don't know," Callen said uncomfortably. She hoped that she would be able to answer the rest of his questions easier than that.

"You have to know. Why?"

"Because I don't feel like answering them," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay. Why did you decide to come to Hogwarts instead of staying home?" he asked for his second question.

"Because I haven't seen my cousin for over a year, and I kind of wanted to see him," she made up.

"But what about your other cousins? The ones the already graduated?" he asked.

"They're all working," Callen lied quickly. "Besides, Ron is my age, and we were like best friends when we were little, till I moved. I'd rather see him than Percy."

"Oh. Why don't you like me?"

Callen was speechless. "What?"

"Why don't you like me?" he repeated. "You never even look at me."

"I never said I didn't like you," Callen insisted. "I just don't really look at people that much, because I don't like getting strange looks."

"Why do people give you strange looks?" he asked.

"Because I'm different from them," she said, not really thinking about what she was saying.

"How are you so different?" Malfoy asked, his eyes glittering.

"I'm a fairy princess. How different can you get?" she asked sarcastically.

"I knew it!" Malfoy said triumphantly. "I knew you weren't really related to that weasel!"

Callen sat, aghast. She couldn't believe she had just betrayed herself and her friends. She hung her head.

At that moment, the door swung open and in walked Harry. He saw Malfoy grinning from ear to ear, Callen sitting with her head in her hands, and exploded.

"Malfoy, what did you do to her?" he demanded, pulling out his wand. Immediately Callen leapt up.

"Harry, he didn't do anything, it's all my fault," she said, trying to grab his arm.

"I didn't do a thing, she just spilled your little secret," Malfoy said, his eyes glinting.

"You did what?" Harry said, pulling his arm away from Callen, who had finally managed to catch it so he wouldn't curse Malfoy.

"He was asking me questions, and I forgot what I was doing, and I told him I'm a fairy princess," Callen said, desperately hoping he wouldn't hate her.

Much to her relief, Harry simply pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Obliviate!" he yelled, wiping Malfoy's memory. Instantly, Malfoy stopped smiling.

"What am I doing near you?" he snarled at Harry. He stormed out of the room.

"Good one," Callen said. Harry turned to her.

"Why the hell were you even talking to him?" he demanded.

"Why not? He hasn't done anything to me," Callen retorted.

"He's scum! He tries to get me into trouble!" Harry yelled.

"So, he hasn't done anything to me!" Callen yelled back.

Harry glared at her, then turned and stormed out of the dungeon. Callen waited for the door to slam shut, then let her anger out in a huge scream. Again.

(The plot thickens…hee hee, I always wanted to say that…not really, I lied)