Benji was horribly upset, she had almost told the greatest secret of her life! When the prophecy of Harry or Voldemort's demise, there was one laid down about Benji's future:

"The one destined to destroy the Dark Lord cannot do this without the love and devotion of a dear friend's child. Without this bond, the Dark Lord will gain power again and both shall be left to wallow alone in their own sorrow. If the boy can look deep enough inside himself, he will find his greatest friend and comfort In order to find her, the one destined to win has but to look inside and all shall be revealed. But the girl must beware of her allies, not all are as true as they seem, or mean to be."

Well, Benji didn't know it was about her, but Voldemort must have. He had come on the night of July 31st – Harry Potter's birthday. He had brought with him a sniveling rat-like aid, and a lady that looked Spanish, but when she spoke it was with a very French accent. He had come to get Benji, if he could kill her, then he could easily beat the boy-who-wouldn't-live-this-time.

Benji's parents had protected her though. First her mother, then her father had died for her; and then one of the other teachers had come into the room, causing Voldemort and his aides to quickly disappear, leaving the Dark Mark hovering in the air. Benji had run up and leapt into her bed and cried herself to sleep. She still had no idea exactly what the prophecy meant.

No one was to know that story though, no one. That was Benji's secret, and as far as saving Harry's butt; right now she couldn't have cared less if that stupid Thestral had eaten him. He had absolutely NO right to look at her in that tone of voice! She had dumped a guy for doing that to her! (Joel had told her she was too dramatic on one of the rare occasions he talked.) Well who cared how dramatic she was! (Not her!) Benji sat on her bed and listened to her Discman until she heard the bell for the end of class ring. She grabbed her wand and closed the curtains on her bed with a simple spell.

For the next few months, Benji and Harry avoided each other like the plague. Both were irrationally angry, and knew it, but weren't willing to admit it. Harry thought Benji should have trusted him with the truth; he had trusted her with Sirius hadn't he? Benji was upset because she didn't feel something she couldn't tell her own brother should be told to some incredibly famous boy. This constant anger caused their friends to be caught in between the two bitterly feuding seventeen year olds.

One Friday evening before dinner, Harry came up to her and slapped a dusty old box on the table in front of her. She snatched it up and ran up to the dorms and threw the musty box into her trunk. She promptly forgot about it as soon as she went back down for a quick dinner.

The next morning she skipped breakfast as usual, and polished her Nimbus 2001. At about ten, she headed for the field. Today was quidditch team tryouts. She was one of the first there, so she set her Beater's bat on the ground and stretched before taking flight. She soared all the way up to about 25 meters above the goal posts. She slowly flew around in circles until Joel, Harry, and Ron showed up, along with quite a few others wanting to join the team.

Harry was once again captain this year, and he also had to replace the three chasers, and two beaters that had graduated last year. The only people that were any good last year had been seventh years. Either Ron's keeping skills had grown over the summer, or he could tolerate the taunting enough so that it didn't bother him.

Harry blew a captain's whistle, bringing Benji reluctantly back to the ground. He explained how the day would go, he was going to work with the beaters and Ron would work with the chasers. The prospective beaters were to split up into pairs. Joel was standing in the front and quickly got a partner.

Benji, however, was stuck partner less and had to work with Harry for a while. She easily hit the bludger towards the "opposing team," a.k.a Harry. She almost hit him every time, and he would have been knocked into next week if he hadn't been such a good flyer. One of her bludgers finally connected with the end of his broom and sent Harry spinning across the field towards where the others were practicing. He pulled out of the spin before anyone else noticed and acted as if he were watching the others practice.

"Arrington!" he called, "You can leave,"