Thank you all. To be honest with you, I feel a little dispirited at writing now. Its not a writer's block or anything since I've already got a plot going on but… I don't know… I just suddenly feel that I'd much rather read others' stories than continue with mine. Also, I'm thinking of writing something else. Something that adds on value to JKR's work. Now a 6th yr spinoff that will be rendered obsolete after the half-blood prince is out. U get what I mean? Or maybe this is just a phase. I don't know. I certainly hope so.

Sorry for the rambling. On with the story.

Chapter 3: Three is a Crowd

Harry awoke to a nudging on his arm.

"Harry," Ron said quietly, "I'm meeting Hermione for a walk. I'll see you at the Great Hall for breakfast alright?"

Harry mumbled his understanding and went back to sleep. It was not until he woke up half an hour later did he realised the meaning of Ron's words. Meeting Hermione for a walk? Harry chuckled inwardly. About bloody time.

Harry put on his robes and scuttled down the stairs. Upon reaching the landing, he spied a suspicious figure crawling on all fours next to the fireplace. Instinctively, Harry reached for his wand.

The girl with dirty blond hair got on her feet and jumped when she saw Harry.

"Er," Harry said, surveying the attractive girl. Her face was open and jolly but in the depths of her smoky green eyes, Harry saw an emotion that could only have been stirred by a haunting past. Harry knew because he had seen that in his own eyes.

"Hi! I'm Corianne Laddel," she said cheerfully, offering her hand. Harry took it.

"I'm Harry… Potter," Harry replied, adding his last name as an afterthought. It had been seven years but he was still unaccustomed to the reactive movement of the eyes to scar. However, Corianne appeared nonchalant about Harry's name.

"I'm a new student. In Gryffindor," she explained, "I came from Sweden."

Harry nodded. "Which year are you in?"

"Seven," she answered.

"So we'll be classmates," Harry said.

"Cool," she said.

"Are you heading for breakfast?" Harry asked. Corianne gave an affirmative nod. "Good, let's go together."

"Why did you moved to England?" Harry inquired as they descended the Gryffindor tower's stairs.

"Well, actually I was born in England. My mother decided to move us to Sweden when I was two but recently I just decided that it's about time I come back," Corianne said.

"I see," Harry lamented.

"So Harry, what classes do you have?" Corianne asked.

"Er, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures. That's about all, I think," Harry said, "What about you?"

"I don't take Care of Magical Creatures. The rest are the same and in addition I take Ancient Runes," she said.

"Sounds like a tough combination," Harry commented.

"Oh it's nothing," she said dismissively, flushing slightly.

"Anyway," Harry started, "what happened to the Sorting Hat last night? Was it found?"

"Nope, we get to choose our sorting," she said.

Harry frowned in puzzlement and Corianne laughed heartily.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You looked really cute with that expression," she said.

This time it was Harry who turned crimson. Harry opened his mouth to respond but found himself braking in his tracks instead. A few feet down the corridor, approaching in his direction, was a person that made his heart leap to his throat – Janieve Walker – in a delightful way, of course.

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Janieve glared at the girl with short sandy hair flirting with Harry. She threw her head back and flashed her megawatt smile and Janieve gritted her teeth in irritation. What irks Janieve more was the fact that Harry had actually blushed in her presence!

Not that it was any of her business even if Harry was to kiss her now. They had already broken up and it had been Janieve's choice. Still, she did not care. The sight infuriated her and the fact that Harry was able to move on so quickly stung her ego.

Harry noticed Janieve and their eyes locked for an instant before Janieve looked away.

"Hi," Harry said, when they passed each other.

"Hi," Janieve replied but with hostility. She walked briskly past the couple and climbed up the flights of steps leading to the Gryffindor tower.

As she stomped into the common room in anger, she willed her thoughts away from Harry. She was carried to the night when the Dragons broke loose.

"Jan?" said a voice.

Janieve snapped her eyes open groggily and her vision settled upon the red-headed young man.

"Charlie," she croaked.

"Thank goodness!" he cried, "I wouldn't know how to explain to mom if something had happened to you."

"I'm fine," Janieve insisted.

Charlie's worried face was replaced with one of upset. "What do you think you were doing anyway!" he demanded. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Janieve cringed at his tone. "I'm sorry," she said weakly.

Charlie sighed. "Just don't ever do something like that again," he said, "Anyway, I'm taking you back tomorrow."

"What! No Charlie I said I'm sorry!" Janieve pleaded. "I promise it won't happen again. Please don't be mad at me!"

"Janieve," Charlie said, his voice strained, "unless you want to quit school altogether, then by all means stay. As we speak, the others are probably on their way to Hogwarts."

"What!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you," he said grimly, "you've been out for two weeks."

Janieve collapsed onto the bed, overwhelmed by exhaustion. It had been a long ride to Hogwarts. She caught a glimpse of her trunk by the side of her drawers and marvelled at the efficiency of the house-elves.

She began pulling robes, jeans, tops, shorts, undergarments out of the overstuffed case. Her possession had grown over the year. Her fingers closed upon something and she wrought it out, sending brushes and quills flying.

A green-eyed boy stood on the garden outside the Burrow, hugging a replica of Janieve from behind. He was swinging her from left to right then to left again and both of them were grinning widely. Janieve traced the photograph set in the grey frame as she struggled to swallow the lump of yearning in her throat.

Then, a motion picture of a certain dirty blonde flirting with Harry invaded her mind. Janieve shook her head and slammed the photo frame faced down in the drawer and crammed it in with her clothes.

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Next chapter: in the next few seconds, as promised.