Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Angela and the Plot. And whatever else Jo Rowling didn't invent.
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Angela lay in her bed talking to Melissa on the phone for hours. She told her everything, and just as she thought would happen, Melissa didn't believe a word at first. After a while though, Melissa accepted it.
"I best get to come see you sometime. And I better get a letter or phone call at least once a week."
"Don't worry Melz. It'll be at least twice a week. You will know everything that goes on here. Trust me."
"Alright. Well, I'm sure you've run up a huge phone bill already talking to me, so I'll let you go."
Angela was pretty sure that there would be no phone bill, but she had to call her grandmother anyway, so she said goodbye. She then dialed the number to her grandmother's house. She lied easily, a habit she had developed many years back to protect herself, and was soon off the phone.
She lay on her bed staring at the canopy on the bed, thinking about what she would do. She knew she had to help. If she didn't, who would? She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the soft knocking on the door. She did hear Harry call through it to her though. "He must think I'm asleep!" She thought to herself, as she went to the door to let him in.
"Hey, Angela. Did I wake you up?" he asked, entering the room and sitting on the bed next to the one she had settled in on.
"Nah. I just got off the phone. It's way to early to sleep anyway." She saw him glance dubiously at the clock beside her bed. She looked at it and gasped. It was almost midnight! "Well, maybe not way to early. What did you need?"
"Well, I wanted to talk to you. Dumbledore came and talked to me about staying here and helping tutor you this summer. I told him I would think about it, but I really want to. I definitely don't want to go back to the Dursley's," he said, his green eyes darkening in hate. He had explained all about his aunt and uncle and cousin and the story of his parents and his scar while they were touring the castle. "But I wanted to make sure that you don't mind me being here. I mean, I know what it's like to find out shocking news, especially about your parents. There are all the questions and then, for a while, you just want to be alone to think it through. So, if you don't want me to stay, then I'll go." He looked at her, his green eyes full of hope.
"Of course I don't want you to go! I'll need someone to talk to sometimes, someone who remembers what it's like not to know everything. I feel like a freshman all over again! It's always nice to have someone familiar with the territory there to help you through. If I want to be alone, I'll tell you, don't worry."
Harry's face brightened with a grin and he jumped up and said, "Great! I'll go tell Dumbledore my decision," and he raced out of the room. "Good night! See you in the morning!"
Angela sighed and pulled on her pajamas. This was definitely going to be the weirdest summer ever.
* * *
Angela sat with Harry on the couch a few weeks later, going over the spells she had been working on in Transfiguration. This was easily her favorite class so far, but that may have been the teacher. Professor McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher during the school year, had been unable to come back during the summer, due to an illness in her family, so Angela was learning from Dumbledore himself. Well, not learning, per se, more recalling with the help of.
In the past three weeks she had quickly gone through Potions (Snape was terrible…the teacher her parents had had was much kinder and Angela mostly tuned Snape out and set her mind to remembering the lessons her parents had been given), Charms with Professor Flitwick (another of her favorites), Herbology with Professor Sprout, History of Magic (with a ghost, Professor Binns…Angela remembered him alive and was quite shocked to see he had passed), Astronomy with Professor Sinistra, and Defense against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin. He wasn't the new teacher for the year, but had come on Dumbledore's request to help Angela. She was very grateful and thoroughly enjoyed all of his lessons. Next thing she was going to learn was Ancient Runes and she couldn't wait.
Harry had been a huge help through it all. When she got tired of studying they would go on walks around the lake or Harry would give Angela flying lessons. These were easily the best parts of the days they happened to come on. Angela had never felt freer than when she was 100 feet up in the air. It was something that she couldn't even explain to Harry, though she had the feeling that he understood.
She turned out to be a natural at this (Dumbledore told her that her father had been the seeker on the Quidditch team for Ravenclaw, her mother a chaser for Hufflepuff) and most of their flying "lessons" turned into simply flying. She often flew out over the woods and to the mountains. She could think more clearly in the air than anywhere else. Harry had tried to teach her Quidditch, but she seemed to have only inherited her parent's flying abilities. She couldn't catch anything from her broom. "Just as well," she told him, after dropping the Quaffle again, "I wouldn't want to play anyway. I'd probably get smacked by a bludger when I wasn't paying attention"
Angela had also met all of the ghosts that lived in the castle at one point or another. She talked to Sir Nicholas often and had even had a conversation, albeit a very short one, with the Bloody Baron.
Her least favorite of the 'ghouls' at Hogwarts was Peeves. She met him one day when she and Harry were heading back to Gryffindor Tower. He had tried to drop a trashcan on them from several floors above. They had both heard the cackling, though Harry identified the source when he pointed out the odd looking poltergeist above them. He had seen the trashcan coming at them and tried to pull Angela out of the way, but she just raised her hands, shouting "Gelo!" Ice blue streaks of light had flown out of both of her hands and hit the trashcan and Peeves, freezing them both in mid-air. She had then waved her right hand towards the trashcan, and Peeves was stuffed in it in a second. She allowed the trash bin to fall the rest of the way, clanging to a stop a few feet in front of them. Angela had gone over and introduced herself to the squashed Peeves, before walking away laughing, leaving a squealing Peeves in the trashcan. Harry had given her an astonished look before laughing himself.
"No one but the Bloody Baron has been able to control Peeves!"
"Yeah, well…I'd rather talk to Will any day, if given the choice between him that bastard back there."
"Uh…Will?" Harry looked at her, obviously confused.
"Baron William Phillip Blair, the Third. He's actually very nice. Quiet, a bit creepy perhaps, but nice."
"You…talked to the Bloody Baron?? I don't even think Slytherins talk to him and he's their house ghost."
"You just have to know how to talk to him. That's all." Angela left it at that, not wanting to elaborate. She and Harry walked the rest of the way to the common room in silence.
She and Harry got to know each other very well, taking their evening strolls. It was very fascinating to her to hear of his adventures in the first five years. He told her all about his two best friends. Angela was most anxious to meet Ron and Hermione, especially after hearing all of his tales of what they had done over the years.
She in turn had told Harry about her life in the States. About her birth parents and all of her relatives and how completely different it all was from England. He was eager to hear all about her brothers, though when he said out loud that he wanted a brother she was quick to say "No you don't. Really. I promise you don't."
The hardest part about all of it was thinking about leaving. She knew that she didn't want to leave. She somehow felt more at home at Hogwart's than she had anywhere else and more than anything wanted to stay here. But how? How could she possibly explain to her grandmother that she wanted to go to school in England, much less a school to learn how to be a witch? How do you tell someone that you've known your whole life that you're not at all who even you thought you were?
She brought this up to Professor Dumbledore in the last Transfiguration class, after she easily turned a badger into a lion cub.
"Well, we could work something out, I suppose," was all Dumbledore had said. It was blatantly obvious by his tone that he disapproved of her not telling her grandmother, but how could he understand? How could anyone?
A few days later, after her Runes lessons (which were considerably easier than she had thought they would be) Harry met her and said that Dumbledore needed to speak to her. As they walked together to his office she asked what he had been doing, since he couldn't tutor her in a subject he knew nothing about.
"Just practicing Quidditch. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, after not being able to play most of last year and we're going to have to find some decent players this year, as all of the chasers, including the captain, graduated. How's Professor Vector doing?"
"I don't think she likes me very much. I'm not struggling like most of her students do, I suppose," she said in answer to Harry's confused look. "She gave me a four foot essay to write completely in Runes. I don't even think Seventh Years have to do things like that. Oh well," she said, sighing slightly, "It could be worse. It could be on another Goblin rebellion or some rare potion that only Snape and God know about."
Harry chuckled at the last one. "I'm pretty sure there are a few of those potions around, actually. I'm surprised Snape never tried to take points off of you."
"He did, didn't I tell you?" Harry shook his head. "Oh! Well, see, the teacher my parents had was much more…erm…satisfactory than Snape. I sort of made it a habit to tune out Snape and just remember the lesson from my parents. Well, one day I was about halfway through with the potion when he stopped talking and turned around. He tried to take 15 points from Gryffindor for starting before he told me to. I had to explain to him that first of all, I'm not really in Gryffindor. Not yet at least. And second, why should he be mad when he's just trying to catch me up? 'Isn't it faster if I work faster than you talk?' He didn't like that at all." Angela added with a laugh, remembering the rather nasty face that Snape had made that day.
"Remind me later that I have a question for you," Harry said as they approached the Gargoyle.
"Hershey Kiss" they both said at the same time.
They looked at each other and laughed again as they climbed onto the stairs.
Dumbledore was waiting for them in his office, which they entered after knocking. This time he wasn't alone though. One new thing was a beautiful red and gold bird that hadn't been there the last time. The other was one of the last people Angela had ever expected to see at Hogwart's.
"Mom?"
What was her mother doing here? Here of all places?
"Yes, honey. It's me." Her mother was smiling at her.
Harry let out a low whistle. "Wow. You really do look like her. You two could be twins!"
"Thank you, Harry. What are you doing here mom?"
"I believe I can explain that." Dumbledore spoke for the first time. "You see, your mother is going to move to London, and you can tell your grandparents that you decided to move here with her and go to school here. They don't need to know what kind of school it is yet."
It was brilliant and it would work. But how had Dumbledore arranged it?
"How did you guys do this? I mean, I think it's brilliant, but, are you really willing to leave your life in America for me mom?"
"Of course I am! You're my daughter!"
Angela stared disbelievingly at her mother. Never in her entire memory had her mother ever given up anything for her. Never.
"And besides," Her mother continued, "It's only for a year. Then you can say that you want to stay at the school when I go back to the States."
A thought suddenly occurred to Angela. "How exactly are you paying for this mom? I mean, last I heard you didn't even have an apartment in the States!"
"The school will cover her living expenses while she is in England, as well as provide nicely for her future," Dumbledore said in a reassuring voice.
Angela was far from reassured. "So that's why she's doing it" she thought to herself, "I should have known she'd never do anything like that without getting something for herself out of it."
"Thank you, mom. I appreciate it a lot. Thank you too, Professor Dumbledore. Unfortunately, I have a rather long Runes essay to write by tomorrow, so if you will excuse me." And with that she turned and walked out the door, leaving her mother and Dumbledore somewhat dumbstruck. Harry followed her down the stairs and into the hall.
She walked as quickly back to Gryffindor Tower as she could before she started crying. She could barely say the password when she reached the fat lady, but she got it out nonetheless. She collapsed on a sofa nearest the fireplace and burst into tears as soon as she sat down. She didn't even hear Harry come in the room, or feel him sit next to her.
"What's wrong, Angela?"
Startled, Angela looked up into his face, which was etched with concern. "I-what do you mean what's wrong?" she hurriedly wiped the tears that were streaming down her face, only to have them be replaced by fresh ones.
"Well, isn't this good news? I mean you wanted to stay and to have an easy way to tell your grandparents and this is it, isn't it? What more could you ask for?"
"A mother who would do it simply because she loves me and wants what's best for me to start with."
Harry gave her a startled look. "What do you mean? I'd give anything to have a mother do for me what yours is doing for you. Actually, I'd give anything to have a mother," he finished with a rather sad note in his voice and a faraway look in his eyes.
"You can have mine if you want her. I don't need her."
Angela sat angrily, tears still streaming down her face. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to have a real mother. To have a mother that loved her so much that she would die for her. She knew full well that if it had been Catherine Harte and baby Angela that night instead of Lily Potter and Harry, Angela would be dead, as would Catherine. "Your mother loved you enough to die for you Harry. I don't believe mine does. And I think that it would be better to have the knowledge that you were that loved and that you lost it than to have the knowledge that you'll never have that kind of love. I know," Angela said all this without opening her eyes.
Just then she felt the softest touch of lips on her cheek. They touched anew at every tear that was coursing down her face. She didn't dare open her eyes for fear that it would end. A gentle hand caressed the side of her face. She finally opened her eyes to look into the endless green of Harry's.
Even the simple task of breathing seemed difficult right now. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours, his hand never leaving his face.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?" Harry asked in almost a whisper.
She could only shake her head. The tears still slid silently down her face as he spoke again.
"Your gorgeous hair is the perfect blend of auburn and brown. Your skin is so smooth and soft and perfect," he slid his hand over her cheek, as if to emphasize the point, "And your eyes. I've dreamed about your eyes, with their mysterious mix of green and brown. You have no idea how hard it's been."
He was right about that. Angela had never looked at Harry as more than a friend. She had always assumed that he had a girlfriend, with his good looks he had to. But looking at him now, she had no idea how she had not seen him like this before. Now it was her turn to speak, as she ran her hand through his unruly jet-black hair.
"I love how your hair does it's own thing, and how you try to flatten it constantly. You've got to know that it will never work. At least I hope it won't. But you're one to talk about eyes. I could get lost in your eyes."
Angela thought to herself, "How could I possibly have missed this? As much time as we spend together." Harry began to slowly move his head towards hers, while gently tilting her head with his hand. For one perfect moment their lips met. The world around them dissolved and they were unaware of anything for that one perfect moment.
A perfect moment, which was very suddenly brought to a halt by a rather loud tapping noise on the window.
Harry groaned as he looked towards the window. He got up and crossed the common room to the window and opened it. In flew the largest bird that Angela had ever seen up close. Panicking she threw her hands over her head and prepared to be attacked.
"Don't worry, it's just Hedwig. My owl." Harry reassured her, laughing slightly.
"Your…owl? Why do you own an owl? Especially one on the endangered species list?"
She looked at the owl, which glared back at her with what almost looked like jealousy.
"Well, she brings me my mail for one," he said, pulling a letter off of her leg. "She's also a good friend. We've been through a lot together. She was the first real birthday present that I got…from Hagrid on my eleventh birthday."
"Ah, I see. Who's the letter from?" she asked, leaning on his shoulder to look at the letter.
"Ron! I wonder if Hermione's at the Burrow. That's the Weasley's house," he added, obviously noticing her confusion. "Hermione was supposed to come and spend a few weeks there. Depending on when you finish catching up I may go and spend a few days myself. I'm sure you'd be invited, if you wanted to come. I could ask Mrs. Weasley for you."
"That sounds wonderful. I'll let you read your letter. I still have a Runes essay to write."
She got out some parchment, quills, and ink and headed over to a table in the corner to write her essay. She got through three feet easily, but started struggling after that. It wasn't the letters she was having trouble with. It was the content of the essay itself. There was only so many ways you could talk about runes and she had covered most of them. She finally finished her essay at one thirty in the morning and promptly put her head down and fell asleep.
She never stirred when Harry came down and put a blanket over her shoulders and whispered, "I love you, Angela," in her ear.