Before I start off with this chapter, I'd like to thank all of those who've read and reviewed, and to a few of my friends who've supported me through this.

Also, I do not own the Harry Potter characters; they are JKRowlings' except for Sarah and Julie and Carla... which are mine and no one else can use them.

And one more thing: I did not name Sarah after that country singer. I did not even know about her until after I'd written this. And same goes for Julie; it just so turned out that a particular CSI episode used her name AFTER I had started writing. So there.

Mr. Collings' Only Lesson

But there was no Hermione in the library.

"Do you think something happened to her?" asked Ron alarmed.

"I hope not. Let's go talk to Hagrid," Harry said a little nervous. It took them fifteen minutes to walk all the way out to Hagrid's Hut. Upon reaching it they knocked on the door. But they received their answer before the door opened, for they could hear Hermione's voice coming from inside. Hagrid stood behind the now opened door.

"Oh, hello!" he said happily. "Looks like yer friends have found ye," he said to Hermione. Harry and Ron entered.

"Hermione, we were looking all over for you," Ron said.

"Why weren't you at the Quidditch match?" asked Harry. Hermione and Hagrid exchanged quick glances.

"I had business elsewhere," she replied.

"Well, you missed a bloody good match," Ron started. They told her the whole story of the match with much detail and enthusiasm. Ron was doing dramatic scenes as if he were in a play. When they finished, Hermione seemed barely affected by the information.

"Aren't you happy? We won!" he blamed her.

"Of course I'm happy; I've just had a lot on my mind lately," she said lamely. "Well, I think it's late, so I'll head back up to the castle." She got up and put her coat on. She gave a hug to Hagrid and walked across the grounds back up to the castle with Ron and Harry staring at her with awed expressions.

"What's with her?" said Ron. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, she's just been workin' real hard," Hagrid interrupted.

"What, homework?" Ron pried. Hagrid looked at him hard.

"Hagrid, tell us?" urged Harry.

"It's none o' yer business, really. She'll tell when she's ready," he replied firmly. Hagrid was keeping a secret for Hermione? It must be very important to her to not tell them but to tell Hagrid, Harry thought. In fact, they felt a little betrayed by her loss of confidence in them. "Well, it's late, boys. You'd better be headin' up to yer common rooms," he said.

"But..." started Ron.

"Now, I ain't answerin' any more questions; so good night," he urged. Harry and Ron left still curious about what was up with Hermione. Whatever it was, Harry hoped it was a good excuse to miss their game.

"Hey, Harry, did you know that the Slytherins' are having their tryouts for a new seeker?" asked Ron during the walk to their second class. "Why don't we go?"

"Why, we can't try out?" Harry informed him.

"Well, obviously not, but we can get a good idea of what we'll be up against," hinted Ron. Harry nodded, but he was watching Hermione, who these days, spent more time with Ginny than Harry and Ron.

"Good, then I'll see you after all our classes," he said pleased with himself. And so the day passed for Harry, without much thought given to his classes. His mind was lost somewhere else. But when he was done he did remember to go out to the Quidditch pitch. It seemed as if almost every eligible Slytherin was there to try out. Ron met him, and they took their seats halfway up the stands. Harry would watch the first few seconds of each candidate and then work on his everlasting homework. Ron, however, could not take his eyes away from the field. He watched each person's every move. Harry thought Ron took it too seriously, but a flooding guilt would run through his veins saying he should watch too in case the Slytherins found a truly good Seeker. After a while, Harry got so involved in his Potions report he forgot to even look up. Occasionally Ron would make him jump with sudden yelps of, "Did you see that?... Whoa, wow, I've never seen that!... That was a stupid move... but it worked! I don't believe it!" Finally the try-outs ended, and Harry could retreat to the comfort of the common room. Ron ranted all the way about the possible players. But the winner wouldn't be announced until tomorrow. And until then, Harry had no worries.

Even though he woke up refreshed it wouldn't last long. About mid-day that Saturday, Ron came in to the common room with a very serious look on his face. Without saying a word he grabbed Harry and steered him out and down a corridor in front of the Great Hall where a sign was posted, and on it read:

From the Slytherin Try-outs for Seeker:

Due to irrational causes the Slytherin Seeker and captain was suspended from further Quidditch matches.

Miss Sarah Evans will therefore be replacing him as Slytherin Seeker and captain for the rest of the year.

Approved by,

Severus Snape

And then it sank in. Harry couldn't take much more of it... he couldn't take much more of her. He had been right; the Slytherins did get a better Seeker. He didn't want to imagine taking her on in Quidditch; it would be plain scary... even if he was better.

"It will be fun won't it? The best Gryffindor versus the best Slytherin..." came the voice of none other than Sarah. Harry and Ron turned around. She was looking at Harry with a truly happy smile.

"Oh, bug off... " Ron said. She raised her brow at him, but turned her attention back to Harry with a smile. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Oh, why don't you drop the act? You hate us, so don't smile," Ron rudely interrupted.

"For your information," she said losing the smile, "I don't hate you; your just good competitors. And don't interrupt me," she said tossing her hair at him. "Anyway..."

"I can do whatever I bloody want!" Ron shouted. Harry was trying to calm him down.

"You are impossible, you know it," she said frustrated. She drew her wand as Ron grabbed his.

"No," said Harry stepping between them. "I've already had enough problems. Three-fourths of them are caused by you already," he said pointing at Sarah, "so no more. Let's go, Ron." And he practically dragged Ron away from her.

"You have got to get a grip," Harry said.

"I can't. I just hate her so much," he replied.

"Why? She hasn't done anything to you. I'm the one that should be mad, but I'm not."

"You don't understand." After that, Ron wasn't able to find the rest of the words he wanted to say, so he rushed up to his dormitory and went to bed early. After Harry had finally had a small conversation with Hermione about her History class, Harry, too, decided to go to bed. He walked up and opened the door to enter. He froze after taking two steps into the room. Ron was reading Julie's poems that Harry kept under his pillow. Harry didn't know what to say, but Ron spotted him and looked up stunned.

"These just fell out from under... your pillow," Ron paused, "I was just putting them back." Ron stuffed the small sheets of paper under Harry's pillow and rolled over on his bed. Harry stood there for another moment deciding if he should confront Ron, but he chose not to and got into bed; Ron turned to face him. "Who wrote them?" he asked. Harry did not answer him at first.

"It's not your business." Ron smiled and was on the verge of laughing.

"Well, she signed her name at the bottom, and I'm taking a guess that the girl whose house you were in wrote them." Harry had no reply. "Wait till I tell Hermione." And with that he rolled over again so that he wasn't facing Harry and pretended to fall asleep. Harry was half paranoid, but he seriously didn't think Hermione would care. He saw that one poem had not been pushed under his pillow completely. He pulled it out. It was titled "Swiftly Over the Tides." It wasn't one he had read yet. It was so flowing; he couldn't be sure if he finished it for it droned him into a gentle sleep that felt like soft waves brushing his mind.

Fortunately, as far as he was concerned, Ron had not told anyone about the poems, especially not Hermione who was rarely to be seen these days. He wondered what was keeping her busy, but as much as he tried she wouldn't tell him, not even a hint. But that afternoon, things changed. During dinner, she actually came and sat by them.

"You'll like this news. I've been checking out that Sarah Evans' background," she paused while Harry and Ron diverted their attention from their chicken and dumplings to her.

"You know she said that her parents live in Texas and all that? Ha, she doesn't have parents. She has been staying with another family, the one in Texas. But her real family, well, I guess they died because there's no mention of them, but it is certain that the family she lives with is not the real one; and I do know that she was born here in England."

"But surely you found her birth records or something?" pressed Harry. Hermione shook her head.

"That's what's weird about it. I can't find any reference to her birth, as far as we're concerned she doesn't exist."

The three of them exchanged looks. "I'm trying to find other early certificates that have her parents' names on it, but that's not easy either because they're not official."

"So, I guess the question of who she is, really isn't solved," added Ron.

"She knew something about my parents," broke in Harry. They looked at him.

"What did she know?" asked Hermione and Ron together.

"The day I spilled my things, she compared my father to Snape. But, no one knows about that except me." They looked at him confused.

"Knows about what?" asked Hermione. Harry felt uncomfortable; he didn't want to tell them. He shook his head.

"I saw it a pensieve last year, but she couldn't have; which means that she did have ties not only to England, but to Hogwarts." Dinner was over, and they were now heading up to their dormitories.

"Well, I'll keep digging for more information," said Hermione.

"Oh, Hermione," called Ron. She looked back at him. "Why? Is it really important? What does it matter who she is?" Harry would've thought this was a good point except that Sarah knew something of his past. And then, as if a bullet hit him, he opened his mouth in awe and practically fell back into a seat. Hermione and Ron ran over to him shocked.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" they asked worried.

"I never gave it much thought before, but..."

"But what," they chimed dying of suspense.

"She knows about my family... and... and her last name is Evans." They didn't know what to say, so they waited for him.

"You don't think it's possible... do you?" he asked.

"No, but... " Hermione was lost in thought.

"I'm sure Evans is a common name, besides, she doesn't look like you at all; not to mention she's a Slytherin," comforted Ron. Harry was in a trance.

"Well, you would be right but, how often is it you meet someone who has the same last name and knows about your family? It'd be different if she had no idea of my family."

"I don't know what to say, Harry," came in Hermione. "Perhaps you should just get a good night's rest and we'll talk about it more tomorrow. Now that I have a possible family tie, I can probably find out if she's related in any way. But, you know, if she is related to you she's probably your third cousin, or some far out relative."

Harry read a poem that night, as sleep was impossible. He didn't know what to think of her anymore. Her mystery got deeper and deeper. Maybe he could talk to her. But he didn't really feel like doing that. Suppose they weren't related, he'd look like a freak asking her if she was related to his mother. He felt like screaming out, and as for that night not an ounce of sleep purged his mind.

He saw the dawn come in and the sun rise. He didn't get up till he saw Neville awaking. He tried to pretend that he was just getting up. He got dressed and gathered his things for his classes. According to Snape, Mr. Collings would be teaching for the first time today. Finally, he'd be half free of Snape; though since their incident, Snape had been rather ignorant of Harry's existence.

He walked with his best friends down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They were a little late, but they made it in time. The rest of the class was already present.

"Good morning, class," he said happily as the three of them took their seats. "Well, I suppose I'll begin where Professor Snape left off." He picked up some papers and scanned them. "It seems you will be learning how to conjure a Patronus." Harry and few others smiled, already having covered this subject in their secret D.A. meetings. Mr. Collings looked quite different than he had at the Dursleys'. He was wearing rather small spectacles and a short hat. He had a thickset face with dark tidy hair. Harry figured this was his first time teaching because he seemed slightly nervous. He stood in front of the class and started explaining the reasons a Patronus could be helpful. Harry began to doze off; after already knowing how to do one, he didn't see any need to pay attention. Professor Collings words droned on much like that of Professor Binns'. And then, suddenly, Collings became silent. He made a gurgling noise a few seconds later; Harry hadn't even bothered to look up until then. The whole class sat as straight and rigid as Collings looked. His eyes were wide open with shock but he couldn't seem to say anything. The class watched intently. Mr. Collings then made a sort of choking noise and fell on his back, eyes open but not seeing a thing. A few students stood up to see him. He appeared as though he had just died. Hermione ran out of the room saying she'd get help and everyone else stood around in awe.

Shortly afterward, Hermione returned with McGonagall. The Professor immediately had the students evacuated from the room. For a while, Harry and Ron stood outside the room not sure what to do. They finally walked back to their common room where they found Hermione already residing.

"I wonder what that was all about?" asked Ron.

"I hope he's alright," said Harry.

"I'm sure he is," Hermione replied with her nose in a book.

"He didn't look alright to me; he just sort of heeled over, dead," said Ron.

"Oh, don't be silly," was all Hermione had to say. And for a couple days no news came out about what had become of Professor Collings.