A/N: Uh…. The Dark Elfy Chick, I think that confirms my beliefs that I am a complete idiot. I think I may be the only Southern Californian who uses tubular…. Then again, I use gotta jet, rockin, and other, um, strange or, er, older terms, also. I live in a valley, Central Valley, but I'm not considered a Valley Girl. No one in this fricking place is. They're either trendies, punkers, Cowboys (some cowgirls, ME! ^^), Nerds, or the occasional few rockers (let's see, there would be, what, three of those, Autty?). I am considered a Nerd, and *damn* proud, too. Trendies…. *shivers* I guess I could pass for a rocker sometimes. Or a pirate….

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"Quills, and ink, and parchment?" Drake complained to Hermione in the Common Room that night. "What is wrong with you people? Haven't you ever heard of a pencil? And, I mean, we're magic, and you're totally living in the past! Just muggles are so much more advanced!"

"You use pencils and lined paper in Wizarding schools in California?" Asked Hermione.

"Yeah, what time period are you living in, 'Mione, inquiring minds want to know!"

"Sorry, Drake." Hermione laughed, "I thought you used quill and ink on parchment over there, too."

"No!" Yelled Drake, "The Wizarding and Muggle worlds are basically the same over there! Well, except that for one world is magic, of course. I was laughed at all day, 'Mione!"

"Sorry, Drake. You want to borrow some of my materials?"

"Nah, I'll tough it out. Can I give you some money next time you go to that town-"

"Hogsmeade. And, yes, I'll buy you some supplies."

"Thanks 'Mione. And, sorry 'bout yelling. I'm pretty darn good at yelling."

"Sorry I didn't ask you if you knew our culture. I probably should've been a little more careful."

"'S all good, 'Mione, it's my fault anyway."

Then the both of them began laughing so hard that they fell out of their seats.

"This is annoying," said Ron, "Let's go see Hagrid."

Harry and Ron made their way out to the grounds.

"Stop," said Ron.

"Why?"

"Someone's singing."

"What?"

"Sh! Listen."

Harry and Ron leaned in around the corner, and sure enough, Harry heard a fair voice, singing softly. A girl was sitting down on the grass, leaning up against the castle, and Harry and Ron watched her intently and listened to the words she was singing.

"It's always times like these when I think of you and wonder if you ever think of me.

'Cause everything's so wrong, and I don't belong livin' in your precious memory.

'Cause I need you.

And I miss you.

And now I wonder

If I could fall into the sky

Do you think time would pass me by?

'Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles if I could just see you…

Tonight…." She trailed off and began sobbing.

"Harry." Ron whispered, "Do you think we should see who she is? If she's OK?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "come on." They turned the corner, and knelt down next to the girl.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked. The girl whipped around.

"Ron! Harry!"

"Devine? What's wrong!" Harry asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. Harry could tell Ron felt somewhat less intent on making her feel better, now.

"It's nothing, Harry, I'm fine."

"No, You're crying."

Ron stood up and turned around, leaning against the wall. Harry could tell he wasn't going to talk.

"Ron?" Asked Devine, "Are you angry?"

Ron said nothing.

"Ron!" Devine exclaimed, jumping up and standing in front of Ron. "Don't blame Draco! Please, don't. He doesn't understand what he's doing. He thinks he has to be your enemy. Well, besides the fact that Gryffindors and Slytherins never get along, but that's beside the point! He's only doing what he thinks he has to! To please his father."

"You've been here but two days," said Ron, "And you know all of this?"

"I have a very trusting nature," said Devine, "And tend to make quick friends. Just, Ron, be easy on him. He doesn't want to be a- a Death Eater."

Harry could hear hesitation in her voice as she said the words 'Death Eater'. Her eyes were filling up with tears again, and she turned her face toward the ground.

"Dev?" said Harry, seeing the angry look coming onto her face. She looked up at Ron, who's facial expression turned to sympathetic as he saw her tear-stained, angry face. She glared at Ron for a moment, before sniffing, turning her head, and walking past. "Bye, Harry," she muttered as she passed.

"What just happened?" asked Ron.

"I think you really made her mad. And she already looked depressed, Ron. She's nice, mate. A nice Slytherin."

"But did you hear her stick up for Malfoy! She's on his side, she can't be our friend!"

"Ron, stop being so stubborn." Harry laughed, "Come on, let's just go to bed." And he turned and headed up the steps.

"I am not stubborn," Ron muttered, as he turned and followed Harry.

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A/N: OK, that's all I can write. I've got to get off to bed. I'm afraid of ghosts…. No, seriously, I'm afraid of the dark. And being alone. I'M PARANOID!!!!!!!!!!

YET AGAIN, I HATE MY CRAPPY NAME THAT THIS STORY HAS BRANDED UPON IT! I WOULD LIKE A BETTER NAME TO BE BRANDED OVER IT, SOMEONE HELP ME THINK OF ONE! Thank you, Sincerely, Pypinyea J. Goodchild.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Jo Rowling and Warner Bros. do. And I do not own the song "Thousand Miles", Vanessa Carlton does. Words and Music written by Vanessa Carlton, record published by Universal Records. I love sounding professional! ^^

"Oh Sweet Dagger,

Hear My Call.

Come To Me And

End It All."

-P.J.G.