As the end of the year loomed closer and closer, everyone was getting more on edge for who would win the House Cup. There was one final Quidditch match coming up, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and whoever won this match would be at a huge advantage for the House Cup that would be impossible to beat unless a miracle happened.

"You know, I can't wait until Quidditch tryouts next year," Samantha told Leslie at breakfast. "Charlie, Bridget, and David are leaving, which leaves open two Chaser spots and the Seeker spot. I think I want Chaser. Are you planning on trying out?"

Leslie shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure I feel totally confident on a broom yet," she said, taking a bite of cereal. "You're basically a natural, though, so you'll probably get on."

"Talking 'bout Quidditch?" Max asked, sitting down next to Leslie. Samantha nodded. "I'm trying out next year for sure. Three open spots, what year could be better? Well, I suppose in seventh year Fred, George, Angelina, and Oliver will have left, so that'll have a lot of open spots too, but that's far too late to join," Max said.

"Yeah. I wish first years were allowed, I would for sure win every match," Samantha said as she buttered some toast.

"Watch your head, it's getting a little big," Margot said. Samantha looked up and realized she was sitting a few seats down on the other side of the tables.

Samantha smirked. "Just because you didn't make the team doesn't mean you get to insult my top notch flying skills," she said.

Margot raised her eyebrows. "Really? You wanna go there? I'll make the team next year, just you wait," she said.

"We'll see about that," Samantha told her. "Madam Hooch said she couldn't believe it was my first time on a broom back in September, she thought I must've taken lessons before."

"Did she really?" Margot asked.

"She did, really. Right, Leslie?" Samantha said.

"Yeah, she did say that," Leslie said softly.

"Fine, maybe she did. But I've had my whole life of practicing, you've had flying lessons every other week weather permitting since September. That's, what, ten?" Margot said.

"Thirteen," Samantha corrected.

"So much better," Margot rolled her eyes. "Look, Sam, very few second years get onto the team. It's usually the people who've had years of practice."

"I'll get on it next year!" Katie Bell called eagerly from a few seats away where she was talking with Gwendolyn and Alyssa.

"How do you know?" Samantha asked.

Katie shrugged. "I just know I will," she told Samantha.

"Right. Well, we can be on the team together," Samantha called back.

Katie smiled. "Can't wait," she said, then resumed her conversation with the girls.

After breakfast was finished, they made their way to the Quidditch pitch, where they got good seats and settled in to watch the match.

"It's a shame this Quidditch season is almost over. I really like watching the matches, even the ones that don't include Gryffindor," Samantha heard Damon say from behind her.

"The Gryffindor ones are the most entertaining though, because they're our House," Samantha said.

"Yeah, but Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin deserve their moments of glory too, Sam," Elias said.

"Well, not Slytherin," Damon said.

"True," Elias agreed.

"Anyways, we've got this match in the bag. No one is taking Gryffindor's victory from us this year," Samantha said, leaning back in her seat as the match began.

For Remus Lupin, the end of the year meant more uncertainty of where his next meal would come from. As a Muggle teacher, he wasn't exactly making bank, but it was a steady income, and he was grateful for that.

He knew, however, that Harry and Lauren would find out about him eventually, and staying longer than a year would do him no good.

The daunting task of getting the Dursley's, Lauren, and Harry alone at the graduation party was haunting him more and more every day. The Charm was simple enough, and he'd been doing it all year, so nothing would go wrong.

He felt bad erasing their memory of him. He knew it was selfish, everything he'd done this year, from coming to teach just to see them to erasing their memories of him, but he'd made many mistakes that needed to be put straight. If he did happen to come across them once they entered the Wizarding World, he wouldn't mention this to them, ever. That was selfish too, he knew, but it was what was best.

He wished he could continue teaching Harry and Lauren, and Samantha if he could, forever, but knew that must be impossible. And extremely selfish.

"Er, Mr. Lupin, could I... could I talk to you?"

Remus looked up from the papers he was grading and was put off for a second. He had just seen Lily, he knew it. The dark red hair and kind face could belong to no one else. But then he looked in her eyes, and saw James, and his brain started to work again, and reminded him that Lily was gone, and this was her daughter.

"Oh yes, come in, Lauren," Remus said, moving his papers. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Er... well, Harry mentioned to me that he told you... about what I can do. Like, touching stuff and... knowing," Lauren said. She looked almost frightened.

"He did say that, yes," Remus agreed. "What about it?"

"I just... well I want you to know I'm not crazy," Lauren said quietly.

"I don't think you're crazy," Remus told her.

"How? I've got magic powers, magic can't even exist! It's crazy, I can't explain why or how I can do it, it's just something I've always been able to do, no one told me about it, and my uncle just about threw me out when I mentioned it for the first time, I was only three so I don't remember much, but Samantha remembers it, she remembers everything, and she told me once, how he looked like he was about to throw me out of the house or hit me with the kettle or-," Lauren rambled. It seemed as though she'd been waiting her whole life to explain things to people instead of having them explained to her.

"He didn't hurt you though, did he?" Remus asked sharply. He felt as though he would hit Vernon with a kettle for hours if he had laid so much as a finger on Lauren.

"No, not really. He couldn't really put words together, he was fuming... he sent me to my room and I cry... I- er- I... um..." Lauren spluttered.

"Crying is normal, Lauren," Remus said delicately.

"I stayed with my siblings all night, because Harry snuck up, and we fell asleep in my bed, all three of us even though it's a twin, but we were three, four, and six, and we stayed there all night, united against them, and Samantha said she thought we were invincible in that moment, like no one could touch us or hurt us," Lauren recalled softly. She hadn't thought much about that conversation with Samantha over the summer recently.

She hadn't thought much about Samantha at all. She missed her deeply, but she hadn't seen her in so long, it seemed impossible she'd see her again.

"That's sweet," Remus said. He knew that Lily and James would have been thrilled to know their kids loved and cared about one another so much, and Remus only wished they were here to see it. "You and your sibling seem to care for each other a lot."

"Someone's got to," Lauren shrugged.

"What does that mean?" Remus asked, suddenly alert. He felt a strong paternal pull towards the Potters and had to remind himself he was not their father. 'You're as good as one though. Only parental figure they've had in almost ten years' said a voice inside his head.

"Oh, er, nothing, it just... slipped out, not sure why..." Lauren said.

Someone burst into the room. "And what," said Petunia, "do you think you're doing?" she yelled.

"I was asking Mr. Lupin a question about the homework," Lauren lied immediately. Had he not just been talking with her, Remus himself would have believed it.

"Was she really, now?" Petunia rounded on Remus.

"She was, now." Remus's voice was soft, but there was a hint of something rotten in it, and it had an almost threatening air.

Petunia huffed. "We've got to get going, you know Dudders doesn't like to wait," Petunia grabbed Lauren, who gave a small wave to Remus, and led her out, complaining the whole way, "and you just had to come and ask a homework question, my Diddykins is much more important than your grade..." Petunia's voice was drowned out by the distance.

Remus felt his blood boil. If he had the resources, he would adopt all three of them, no questions asked. He wanted to write to Dumbledore, to complain to him, to tell him of all the injustice that happened in that house, with that family, to say he had made a grave mistake in sending the kids there, to explain that James and Lily's kids deserved much better than this, but Remus knew it would do him no good. He sat at his desk until the principal asked him to leave, and he had gotten no grading done, not having been in a mindset to focus on anything except escape plans for Harry, Lauren, and Samantha.

The match was dreadful. Seeing as David had been knocked out by a Bludger in the first three minutes, Bridget, who Samantha was told was dating him, was distracted the rest of the game, which lost Gryffindor a considerable amount of points. Oliver Wood was doing well, but Gryffindor being down a Chaser caused Bridget to miss every attempt at scoring she had, which was getting fewer every passing moment, leaving only Angelina Johnson to score. This was not going well, because she was tasked with getting the Quaffle all alone, and moving it to the other side of the pitch without help, and she was one against three particularly brutal looking Slytherin Chasers.

Samantha was practically jumping out of her seat trying to get Professor McGonagall or Madam Hooch to notice her and tell her she could fill in for David.

"Sam, she'll never let a first year play on the team for as long as she lives," Leslie told her, putting her hand on Samantha's leg to get her to sit down again.

Samantha huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're just failing so miserably, I can't just sit and watch! I need to help, I have to go change it, I'll run down and take David's broom, not like he's using it, and no one can stop me! Maybe I can try Apparating, then I'll be really sure no one can stop me," Samantha said, standing up to get a look at where David's broom lay.

"Sam, that's a really stupid idea," Leslie told her.

"I know, I like to think I'm rather good at those," Samantha said.

"Good at stupid ideas?" Leslie asked, taken aback.

"Last minute ideas. Ideas one might consider stupid, but that usually turn out well in the end. You might call it bravery, or recklessness, or- or quick thinking," Samantha explained, still keeping her eye on David's broom.

Leslie sighed. "Fine, you know what? Go have a go, see what you can do. Good luck," Leslie said.

Samantha jumped up and sprinted down the stairs, getting to the pitch.

Madam Hooch realized what was up a little too late. "Hey- hey, no you can't do that, you're still a first year!" she yelled as Samantha pushed herself into the air.

Samantha felt at home, with the wind whipping her hair around and tickling her face as she got the Quaffle from a blonde Slytherin who looked thoroughly confused. She passed it to Angelina and flew farther down towards the Slytherin goalposts. Angelina had passed the ball back; Samantha was aiming, now releasing it; it was soaring through the air; it flew right past the Keeper's head and into the goal.

Samantha was beaming. She couldn't believe she had done that, she had made it that far without getting in trouble. Looking down, the teachers all seemed to be more interested in whether she could pull this off or not than punishing her.

Samantha and Angelina worked seamlessly together. Even having had no practice with each other, they knew what to do and how to do it. But even though they were a great team, Slytherin's advantage proved more than they could handle.

When Oliver Wood had been reprimanding Bridget for her fifth missed goal, the Chasers had seized the opportunity to score as many goals as possible, which had equaled out to one hundred points before Charlie could get Oliver to defend once more. That plus the fact that Gryffindor had been at ten points before Samantha joined and that Slytherin had all their Chasers there mentally made Gryffindor winning almost impossible.

After what could have been ages, Samantha heard cheering and knew at once the game was over; they had lost. She looked around and saw Charlie Weasley holding the Snitch, and Samantha realized what must have happened. He had caught it because he knew there was no chance at winning, so he had purposely lost the match.

He looked around and his eyes met Samantha's. He walked over. "Hi. Samantha, right?" he asked. Samantha nodded. "Charlie Weasley," he said, holding his hand out for Samantha to shake. "You were amazing out there, I can barely believe you're first year, surely you've played Quidditch before-?" Charlie asked.

"Nope. Just watched and read about it. I've been on a broom, but I wasn't allowed to play because I'm first year," Samantha told him.

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "No way, that's wild," he said. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he continued. "It would've been nice to have had you on the team this year, not that Angelina, David, and Bridget aren't good, but you've got amazing natural talent for Quidditch," Charlie said.

Samantha beamed. "Thank you," she said.

"It's a shame I'll be leaving soon, I would really love to get to stick around and see how you turn out to be in Quidditch," Charlie sighed.

'You can ask Fred and George, can't you?" Samantha smiled softly. "And you've got Percy, and another younger brother and a sister, right?"

"Yeah, that is true... I'll be asking about you. I think you could go far, Samantha," Charlie said.

"That means a lot, Charlie," said Samantha, her smile widening. "Now, I think I see Oliver Wood coming, he can't be too pleased... well, good luck!"

Charlie chuckled. "Thank you, Samantha," he said, and turned to face Oliver.

Samantha had a fleeting moment of glory before Professor McGonagall came over. "Samantha, come with me," she said. Samantha followed her. She couldn't tell whether McGonagall was mad or not; Samantha had broken a big rule, but she had made their defeat go from hundreds of points to only a forty point difference.

Samantha soon realized that she was being led to McGonagall's office. They walked in. "Sit," McGonagall commanded, and Samantha sat in the chair facing McGonagall's desk.

"Samantha, are you aware that you broke one of the biggest rules Hogwarts has? First years are not permitted to be on the Quidditch team unless there's extraordinary circumstances. You aren't even on the Quidditch team, and yet you felt it appropriate to jump in as Chaser," McGonagall said. "Is this true?"

"Yes, Professor," Samantha mumbled.

"Now, normally that might be cause for detention for weeks," McGonagall said. Samantha perked up. 'Normally' sounded like it would do good for her. "However, I care deeply about Quidditch and you helped us not lose by as much. For that, I'll give you just one detention. And I recommend you get your own broom and try out next year," she said, a faint smile playing with her lips.

Samantha's eyes widened. "Really? Oh, thank you, Professor!" she said happily.

"You've got your dad's talent for Quidditch," McGonagall said after a moment of silence.

Samantha looked up and met her eyes. "Really? My dad was good at Quidditch?" she asked.

McGonagall nodded. "He played Chaser, he was very good at it. I recall he also liked to play with a Snitch he had stolen," she said.

Samantha smiled kindly. "Thank you for telling me that, Professor" she said.

"Your parents were some of the best students I've ever had," McGonagall said.

Samantha took a deep breath, then put a sad smile on. "They sound nice. You know, from the stories I've heard and pictures I've seen," Samantha said.

"Do you- do you remember them at all?" McGonagall asked.

"I- er- I remember a little of that night... my dad telling me to hide, telling me not to move, and my mom ran with Harry... and I looked for them, and I found my dad's body, and I heard Harry and Lauren crying, and I- someone came, and he held me and rocked me to sleep," Samantha said.

"Oh," Professor McGonagall said. She looked like she was about to cry.

"I'm sorry, I-," Samantha started.

"You did nothing wrong, Samantha. Go back to the Common Room, please," she instructed, dabbing at her eyes.

"Goodbye, Professor. Thanks for everything," Samantha said, and left the room.