Disclaimer: How many times to I have to tell you dense people, do I look like J.K.R to you? Well I don't own HP then, do I? You agree, I wasn't expecting that…Well then, er, that'll teach you, um, not to go, er, right then…

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The next few days passed quickly. Harry was a bit frustrated with the way Andrea was so drawn into herself. He had almost taken it upon himself to be her guide, not just for the first day, but for her stay at Hogwarts. He for some reason felt that she was his responsibility, and her failure to mix in, would in turn, be his failure as well. But tonight was just like any other so far, Harry had seen no changes in her yet.

He sat watching her sketch something in her book, Harry assumed it was the fire place. She kept lifting her head to it and then letting it sink back down to her book

Hermione sighed, "It's getting late, I'm going to bed."

"Oh, me too," said Andrea, tearing herself away from her up, down, up, down ritual.

"Yeah, I guess we should be going Harry," said Ron.

Harry shrugged and walked up to the dormitories. As he lay in bed, he couldn't help thinking about her. He had tried to find a place for here, somewhere that worked, but it was turning out to be a futile attempt, it was as though she couldn't exist here, and she wasn't even going to try. But he had better things to think about, didn't he, quidditch season starting, and… no, but the nagging thought came back.

This was getting ridiculous, it was late and he wanted to sleep, but it just wasn't working.

After hours of staring at the ceiling, Harry stepped out of bed and went downstairs. There he saw Andrea sitting in a chair reading a large book. At first Harry thought it was simply her sketchbook again, but soon his eyes became accustomed to the candlelight. Harry could tell from the illustrations on the cover that it must be from the restricted section.

"How'd you get that book?" he called down.

She jumped a little and then looked up.

"Oh, it's only you, that freaked me out."

"That's from the restricted section, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a wicked smile.

"How-"

"Handy cloak you've got, huh?" she said without looking up from her book.

"You went through my trunk!?"

"I did not go through you're trunk," she insisted coolly.

"Then how…"

She stood up.

"I'll be right back."

Harry watched her walk up the stairs and then picked up the book. It was a reference book, on the markings of a dark witch or wizard. His own ability to speak parseltongue was there. Before he could finish reading the page, she headed down the stairs with a sweater. He scrambled to put the book down. Did she know he was a parseltongue? She knew about the cloak, why not this? But even if that was true, she wouldn't bother to get the book… unless there was something Harry didn't know, but he didn't have time to sort things out rationally.

"You know…" he said.

"Know what?"

"That I'm a parseltongue…"

"What?" She took a step back from him

stupid, stupid he thought

"But you can't be… I mean, you're the one who stopped Voldemort, you can't be…"

"No," he replied "But if you didn't know, then how come you were reading that…"

"It's, it's nothing," she paused, "Stop looking at me like that! I said it's nothing…" she paused again "Ok, so it's something, but…" she sighed and looked down, "Ok, well, look, if I tell you, you can't let anyone else know." Harry nodded and waited for her to say something. "SWEAR you won't!" he nodded again, "ok, get me, um, a glass of water."

Harry didn't question, he just retrieved the glass and handed it to her. She set it down on a table in front of her and held her hand above it. Suddenly a small orb of water was floating below her hand. As she turned her arm over, the water ball hovered above her palm. She held the water up to her lips and it was as though she sucked it in. As she turned around Harry almost jumped back in surprise. She was completely different. Her eyes were entirely blue, darkening towards the center. Her skin was shimmering an eerie blue green, her hair was floating about her head as though she was under water and her appearance looked blurred. Her mouth opened as though she was trying to say something, but no sound came out. She turned to face the fireplace and put her hands out in front of her. Water flew from her lips, hands, her fingertips, straight into the fire putting it out quickly. Suddenly she collapsed. She quickly repeated this process, but with a flame from a candle. Now she looked more in focus than before, her eyes flickered red and orange, her hair flowed about as if it were the flames and her body was glowing gold. She replaced the fire in the fireplace the same way she had put it out.

"What was that," he asked, almost out of breath.