"Hermione, you lied." Harry's eyes were dark, he was clearly very angry.

            "No, I didn't, I told you what I saw." She pleaded, "That's what she showed me."

            "Harry, if that's what she says, then why don't you believe her?" Ron instinctively wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders.

            "Ron, what makes you believe her?" He gave a sarcastic laugh, "Oh, I forgot, you're snogging. That's right."

            "So that's what this is about? The fact we're going out? Harry, get out of here." Ron looked rather threatening mad, as his face was darker then his red hair.

            "Fine, whatever. Just don't get too wrapped up you skip Potions." He walked away, revolted. But Snape-wise, it was a normal day, the class started off with the Professor's usual chewing-out of Anna.

            "You did the potion on your own? Probably messed it up, too, but that's beside the point, Anna. You're supposed to wait for my instruction."

            "Profess-"

            "Don't interrupt me. I am your teacher. That me-"

            "That means you treat me like a person. I did this potion 4 years ago. Now, you can talk. What do you have to say?"

            "How dare you disrespect me like that?" Harry had never seen Snape so livid, his face was purple, and even Uncle Dursley couldn't compete. Snape's teeth were clenched, he finally spat out, "Go…to your gra-, to Professor Dumbledore. If you don't need my class, I no longer want you a part of it. GO!"

            "Don't worry, Professor Snape." She was easily as enraged, just not, er, as purple; "I was planning on taking a little visit after class." She picked up her books slammed her seat into the table and stomped out of the class. Snape smiled an actual non-malicious smile. All Harry wanted was a video camera, all of a sudden. "Back to our lesson?" He once again began the teaching of the principles of the Imellora potion, which has 'the basic idea that any spell placed on the body from an outside force can be broken once this is ingested'. Simply fascinating, Harry thought, Now, if I tilt my head a little more this way, I could actually pretend I care.

            After class, Harry decided to blow off any hopes of Hermione and Ron approaching him, he instead decided to head to Professor Dumbledore's office and figure out the Anna situation once and for all. Unfortunately, he overlooked the fact that Anna would still be in there, but curiosity got the better of him.

            "…do what I want when I want?" That was Anna, so the next voice was Dumbledore.

            "If the Ministry knew, I can't tell them!"

            "Of course you can't. Because how would that make you look? Here, the Great Wizard Dumbledore, and his…." More muffles, Harry listened closer. "You're just like them, everyone thinks you're so awesome, and that you don't care how anyone thinks about you."

            "Maybe you don't care enough!"

            "I don't care enough? I couldn't care enough, because if I did, it still wouldn't matter! I'm a piece of dirt in this school!"

            "Well what do you want me to do about it?"

            "Um, hm, treat me like your family? For the love of Merlin, you've got me, your flesh and blood, and then you've got Harry. If one of us had to die, what one would it be? Who would you choose?"

            "Don't pull that old trick on me, you don't—"

            "I don't what? Know anything about people? You don't know anything about me. I'm a piece of trash to you, and I'm your own family. No matter what you do I'll still be your family, and no matter what Harry does, you'll still love him the best, because he isn't some 'thing'."

            "You're so, ugh, I should send you back." He sounded disgusted.

            She laughed, "Excuse me? Send me, send me back? To him?" Anna was gasping, in a frenziedly mocking way, "You couldn't do that if you wanted to, oh mighty wizard!"

            "I'd rather have you with your father than here!"

            "Oh, but if I was with my father you wouldn't be here. Man, your life must be horrible, getting stuck with me. All the choices you have to make; send demon muffle muffle back muffle, or muffle muffle muffle job. So much stress, just over treating someone like a muffle, wizzo!"

            "Oh shut up! I am so sick of your muffle! You wonder why I'd rather have you home!"

            "You know what? If I could go back, I would. But that's not an option, so since I can't, will you just let me be? Treat me muffle?"

            "Anna!" Dumbledore sounded desperate.

            "No, I've heard enough. I'll go die in my common room. Will that make you happy?"

            The doors burst open. Harry slid back into the corner as Anna walked out, not even noticing him. Her eyes were wet with tears, and she was flushed. He didn't need to talk to Dumbledore; there wasn't a point anymore.

            Harry went to the library immediately after that. Hopefully, he'd not find Hermione and Ron. Luck was on his side though, and after a small bout with some Slytherin oaf he found exactly what he was looking for. Not that Dumbledore was bent on himself, but what decent school wouldn't have a biography of the headmaster? Flipping pages, Harry finally found exactly what he was looking for. Page 127, the family tree.

            Harry woke up Saturday morning, nervous and excited. Today was their biggest Quidditch game, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. He swallowed a bit of breakfast and walked down onto the field for a bit of warm-up. Five minutes before the game started, he took a few laps around the stadium, looking for Hermione and Ron. Ah yes, there they were, snogging in the bleachers. Harry calculated the possibility of a bludger hitting them right in the head. Damn, he thought, it wasn't high enough.

            "Harry, I think I figured out why Malfoy hates Anna all of a sudden." Heather looked worried and pointed to a Slytherin figure soaring around the field below. He swooped down for a closer look. And of course, because of wacky coincidences and planning, plus that whole fictional story thing (you know how it goes), Anna was the Slytherin seeker.

            And so it began, it was the routine quidditch match; nothing was particularly out of the ordinary. Malfoy was insulting Neville, action on the field, Gryffindor winning, Ron and Hermione disgusting everyone around them…

            Alas! It was the snitch, glinting and fluttering about by the Gryffindor goals. Harry sped after it. Anna was faster. Harry tried to cut her off; he zigzagged in every direction, up, down, left right. She spiraled over him, dodging bludgers. Soon Heather and the rest of the team got involved setting up a block, which a rather unfortunate idea as the Slytherin team was going wild on the goals.

            Logic would insist that a barricade would work, however, Harry was meandering about so much that the Gryffindor flyers had to maintain a distance, allowing just enough room that Anna could swirl around Harry. He looked up at her. She was composed, neither jubilant nor frustrated, and Harry could make out the slightest gleam in her eye.

            The snitch has a funny way of moving. It can hold perfectly still, until that crucial moment when you actually need it to hold still, and then the game starts, but for some reason, Harry didn't want to play, he was sick to his stomach. Anna had perfect maneuvering, and good God, there was no brand name on her broom, it was homemade. He had the fastest broomstick in the world, and she had part of the black forest. Yet who was winning? Her….

            Harry drifted slowly back to the ground. He in no way felt defeated. Instead, he was rather indescribable, and the fact that Anna totally ruined the French connection of Hermione and Ron while kicking Gryffindor's, well, you know, by 160 points did not subtract any bliss from his current state of being. The team didn't seem too upset either. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was infuriated.

            Harry casually strolled back and forth in corridor outside Gryffindor's office, hoping to catch Anna. Ah, the gargoyle moved, and out she came, walking rather quickly. She breezed right past, which basically sabotaged Harry's plan of asking her to the Christmas dance in a very suave way. But every cloud has silver lining, Harry found, a piece of parchment drifted onto the ground from her hand. Tiny handwriting, he thought immediately, if it's really so important that you've been pacing around the corridor for the past 25 minutes, meet me at the Three Broomsticks. Harry sighed; he wasn't supposed to leave Hogwarts. Ah well then, he thought, better make it fast.

            Upon arrival, he found her nowhere, to, um, be found. He asked the bartender, and described her, receiving an eye roll and another piece of paper. "Don't much see why you kids just can't stick with one another, save me a lot of trouble." He went off grumbling, and Harry unrolled the parchment. Upstairs, you silly fool! You think I'd risk getting seen downstairs?

            Harry chuckled, and realized that it was probably a good idea to go upstairs anyway. He had totally forgotten to check the 2nd floor, which is where he found her, in a booth, to be exact.

            "Now, what was so important?"

            "Well, I wanted to know, oh God. Um, the Christmas Dance, will you go with me?"

            "Well, you rebellious fellow you." She lowered her eyes, mocking him, "So what do you want to do, tame me to the ball. Hey, it works out great, you can piss off Ron and Hermione, not to mention make a name for yourself, hey, look, Potter isn't such a goody-goody! Hmm, let's not treat him like a hero anymore because he had nerve to ask the creepy Slytherin girl, that Snape himself hates?"

            "You think that's why I asked you?"

            "Why else?" It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

            "Uh, because, I like you?"

            "Harry, you don't even know me."

            "What's your point?" There was a long pause. She set her mug down.

            "Alright, fine. We'll try it your way, Potter. Let's see if this little plan of yours works out, and we get away with this, granted, Dumbledore thinks I'll kill you, the most favorite of all the students, and the last time I got within 40 feet of you that Dumbledore knew about was an hour detention, but it's worth the shot, I suppose. But you have to do something for me."

            "Aren't I already?"

            "What did you hear that day you wanted to talk to Dumbledore and I'd beaten you to it?"

            "You knew about that? I didn't realize you saw me."

            "Oh, Harry, so naïve. Just keep your mouth shut about it, alright?"

            "Hey, who've I got to tell?"

            "Add the word right now, and you've got the problem." Conversation ensued, butterbeer was served, and what Harry had planned to be a short trip was soon lasting quite long, which was not entirely unexpected.

            "So tell me, honestly, how'd you get that Snitch to go right into the lovebirds today?" She set her mug down and swallowed,  "The thing you've got to realize about the snitch is that it's got a little mind of it's own, and it's programmed to do certain things at certain times. So, if you know what it'll do if you do one thing, you can figure out how to make it work for you, or for the other team."

            "I've never seen someone as good as you fly before. And I went to the World Cup a few years ago."

            "Ah, the one that got terrorized by that Bart character?"

            "Yeah, that's the one, were you there?"

            "No, but some family friends were there, they told me and Dad all about it."

            "Tell me about your dad."

            "Well, I never actually met him a few years ago, he was always away when I was young."

            "How'd you learn so much about magic, if no one was there to teach you?"

            "One of his wishes, before he left my Mum, was that if she didn't want to teach me magic, when I 11, then leave me on my own, with his wand, and not to any school for magic. So, that's what she did, and I guess from there, I just sort of, learned. I didn't have use for silly words, I just sort of thought it, and it would happen, I guess, it was a lot easier just to do that than do classes to learn what's already inside you."

            "And when he came back?"

            "I made myself a wand, which works better anyway, and he taught me a few things, but duty calls they say, and he sent me to Dumbledore rather than risk my life or death."

            "Why are you such a threat?"

            "Why do you ask so many questions?"

            "Because, you're fascinating."

            "It's warm and you've had a lot of butterbeer."

            "I don't think that'll have anything to do with it once I wake up."

            "Once you wake up? You think this is a dream?"

            "You think it isn't?" He stared at her for a while, and she gave him a rather odd look, then lowered her eyes and turned away, "It's late, we've missed dinner."

            "I'm not hungry anyway."

            "They'll figure it out."

            "Who cares?"

            "Harry, it's not you getting in trouble."

            "Can I kiss you?" (Insert long silence)

            "Excuse me?" He repeated the question. "Oh good Lord Harry. You're not supposed to do it like that. You're not supposed to ask."

            "I'm sorry, it's never quite happened before."

            "I have to go now Harry. Actually, you'd better go first. It'll be less suspicious." He stood up, turned around sharply, and left. She sighed, and went back a few minutes later. On her bed was taped a note, Haha, I beat you to the note! Meet me in the owlry.