It was awkward walking under a cloak with a boy. The closest Iliana had ever been to one was her master at the all-girls orphanage, but he was never very pleasant and smelled of asparagus, and she couldn't help but notice certain strange things, like the way he breathed differently from her and things like that. Harry didn't seem to pay much attention to her sex, however. He didn't go to an all-boys school.

After several moments in silence, Iliana got uncomfortable. Harry was busy looking at his map, which was ingeniously designed, she noticed, but she had nothing else to do but start a conversation.

"So, why didn't I see you here yesterday? Like, meet you or anything."

"Dunno, I had class all day."

"Well, yeah, but you gotta eat sometime. I mean, why didn't I see you at dinner or anything?"

"Timing, I guess. Why? Where were you all of yesterday?"

"I met with Dumbledore in his office and he asked you to bring me back there in a month, by the way. Then I wandered around the grounds for a bit."

"Met Hagrid?"

"Who?"

"I'll introduce you tomorrow."

"OK."

Finally, below ground level, Harry led Iliana down a corridor decorated with paintings of fruit. He came up to a painted bowl and tickled the pear in the painting. Iliana almost screamed when it giggled and became a doorknob, which he grasped, letting the cloak slip off, and pulled it open.

Inside, was the grandest kitchen she had ever seen. He helped her through the doorway, and she stood, her mouth open.

The room itself was not breathtaking, but the inhabitants were. Dozens, nearly hundreds, of tiny almost grotesque creatures ran up. They were all dressed in what seemed to be pillow cases, but for one who was covered in as many clothes as he could fit on his body. This one spoke to Harry in a high, squeaky voice, his bulging eyes bordering on watering. He bowed so low that his long, pencil nose almost touched the ground.

"House-elves," whispered Harry in her ear.

"Master Harry Potter Sir!"

"Hey, Dobby," said Harry, apparently used to them all. "This is Iliana." He gestured towards Iliana who smiled tamely.

"Missus Iliana Sir!" They all bowed. It made her uncomfortable, so she sat down, now at least at their eye level.

A small gasp filled the room.

"Hi Dobby," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but his long, floppy ears heard her clearly all the same.

"What can we get Master Harry Potter and Missus Iliana Sirs?"

Harry looked at her, his eyebrows raised, waiting for her to make a request.

"You, uh … wouldn't happen to have an Jammie Dodgers, would you?"

There was a scuffling, one of the elves held up a large biscuit with red jam in the middle and handed it to Dobby, who then gave it to Iliana.

"Thank—" she began, but the biscuits kept coming, until she had no more room in her laden arms. "Thank you," came her muffled response from over the food.

"Would Missus Iliana Sir like something to drink, Sir?"

"Uh … milk would be great, I guess." The container of milk was added to the top of her pile of food in her arms.

"Master Harry Potter Sir?"

"No thanks, Dobby. Tell Winky I said 'Hi', OK?"

"Yes, Master Harry Potter Sir. Of course, Master Harry Potter Sir."

"Bye, Dobby," he said, as he led Iliana out of the kitchens and off towards the common room, the cloak on them once again.

"Want some Jammie Dodger Biscuits, Harry?" said Iliana, laughing, once they were back in the Gryffindor common room, dumping everything on the table near the fire.

They both collapsed into the armchairs next to the table, grabbing a biscuit.

"So, what grade are you in?"

"Sixth year."

"You wouldn't happen to know the Muggle equivalent of that, would you?"

He paused a moment. "Hang on…" he said. "I think it's … Tenth grade. Tenth or eleventh."

"So you're almost done, then."

"Yeah," he said sadly.

She saw his expression and said, "You really like it here?"

He nodded, looking down at his half eaten biscuit. "I thought I was a Muggle until my eleventh birthday."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Well, it was midnight, I'm pretty sure, and July 31st. My aunt and uncle are straight up Muggles, and they don't mix with magic—"

Harry and Iliana talked through the night, having a great time. Talking about whatever happened in their lives, and Harry felt that he could open up to her. He hadn't told her about James's real identity or the fact that he was the world's chance for survival, but she was surprisingly easy to talk to.

Iliana rambled on as well. He seemed to be enjoying her stories. After all, she didn't have an ordinary life. No, not an ordinary life at all.

It wasn't before six in the morning, when the first Saturday riser came clambering down the girls staircase. A third year girl Harry didn't know. She ignored the two, but that's when they decided that sleep might be a good idea.

It was the first, and would be the last time Harry slept so soundly all year.

He didn't wake up until noon when Ron shook him awake.