Here's chapter five, we get a little look at some more of Leo's past at the end, let me know what you think. I'm really getting into this story, and I would love to know where you think I could improve it.


As November began, the air turned very cold. The mountains around the castle became icy grey, and the lake was like chilled steel. Frost covered the ground each morning. From out my window, I could see Hagrid, defrosting the school brooms. But more important to the rest of the school, Quidditch season was beginning. Saturday was the first match, between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Wood had been keeping Harry's practices secret, and coincidentally, mine. But the news of Gryffindors new seeker got out anyway, and I had to fight the urge to punch people telling poor Harry they'd be out with a mattress in case he fell.

I made sure, to remind Wood that Harry did have school work and that he should eat once in a while.

It turns out there are seven hundred ways to commit a foul, and all of them happened during a World Cup match in 1473. I was excited to watch a real game and not just the practice. Turned out I was a decent Beater and Seeker, my Keeping was not good, but I was an amazing Chaser. (If I do say so myself) The twins claimed to be happy I wasn't after their jobs.

By eleven o'clock the whole school was out in the stands, save the teams players of course. I joined Gryffindor in the locker rooms as they put on scarlet Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it. "

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry and me, "we were on the team last year. "

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it. "

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else. "

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you. "

I gave each of the twins a hug, and Harry a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

"You've got this in the bag."


Madam Hooch was the referee. She stood in the middle of the field, waiting on the teams as I headed towards the nearest stand, full of Hufflepuffs.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. I couldn't help but notice the look she gave Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sneering sixth year with crooked teeth. A banner fluttered in the breeze across the field from my seat, flashing, Potter for President. That must have been Hermione's work, as the Wizard world didn't have a President necessarily.

"Mount your brooms, please. "

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

Lee Jordan seemed to be the commentator for the match, making me giggle.

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor. "

It appears McGonagall was supervising.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

The Gryffindors cheered, along with a smattering of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws, as the Slytherins booed.

I watched Harry pull a loop-the-loop in excitement, but quickly returned to his job of watching for the snitch. Wood had decided that was the best place for him, hovering High above the field. A bludger had come pelting his way once but was hit away with an, "alright there, Harry?" from Fred as he beat the bludger towards Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

I knew Harry saw it, but so had the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs. Harry was faster though, and was rapidly gaining on the snitch-

WHAM! Marcus Flint slammed in front of Harry, knocking his broom off course.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul. . . "

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession. "

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees.

And then it happened again. It was like the broom was trying to buck him off. He didn't seem to have any control of his broom. I turned to holler for a time out, but no one seemed to hear me.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no. . . "

People were beginning to realize something was up with Harry's broom. His broom began rolling, over and over, him just barely hanging on. Then the broom gave a wild jerk, finally unseating Harry, as he dangled by one hand.

I sighed in relief as the Weasley twins began hovering beneath him, momentarily abandoning the game. George was trying to pull Harry onto his broom, but every time he reached out the broom would buck away. Realizing this, they dropped just below him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint took the opportunity to sneak in several goals, which seemed like a foul to me, but...

There was a disturbance in the teacher's stands, and Harry's broom ceased bucking. With a cheer from the Gryffindors, he was able to remount his broom midair. Strangely, he immediately began speeding for the ground, halfway down he clapped a hand over his mouth as if sick. He hit the field on all fours- coughed- and something fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.


"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

I had followed the team back into the locker room, enjoying the gleeful atmosphere. I was forced into a hug by two sweaty Weasleys.

"Here's our good luck charm!" George announced.

"I had nothing to do with it, that was your sheer talent. I've always believe in you two, and I always will." I argued.

"Thanks, Kitty," Fred said sincerely. "We believe in you too."

I merely pulled the goofballs in for another hug before declaring they stank, and shoved them at the showers. They headed off laughing, but only after making me promise to meet them in the Entrance hall.


I ran upstairs to my dorm, changing into something not covered in Weasley sweat, the disgusting dorks. I threw on a dark maroon shirt, and some loose jeans, splattered in paint from one of my late-night projects (I was having strange dreams you see, and thought painting them out might help me make sense of them), along with my beat-up converse and a light jacket Remus had charmed to be forever the perfect temperature. Then I grabbed my messenger bag with some parchment, and a quill and ink. I wasn't sure what the twins had planned, but I figured I should be prepared.

When I arrived downstairs, the twins were just bouncing in, snickering.

"And what were you two just up to?" I asked.

Fred waved me off. "Plausible deniability, Kitty. You ready?"

"For what?"

"An adventure," George said with a mysterious smirk.

Curious, I allowed myself to be led through the corridors, until we arrived at a statue. Glancing around to be sure no one else was in the area, Fred gave it a password, and it slid aside, revealing a small, dark passageway. I didn't have time to warn them I didn't do dark, before Fred went in first, grabbing my hand to pull me behind him into the dark, and I reached back and grabbed George's hand. I caught his surprised look before the statue slid back into place, leaving us in total darkness.

I shivered, and pulled both boys closer, wrapping my arms around George and hiding my face in his shirt.

"Can we please have light?" I whimpered.

Since I had pinned George's arms down, Fred pulled out his wand, and with a quick Lumos, we could see again.

"Kitty?" George spoke softly. "What's wrong?"

I shuddered, and Fred began stroking my hair.

"I- I don't do the dark very well." I managed to get out, holding back tears. "I- I went once- I just wanted to see him. I went to see my Uncle. He- He's in Azkaban." And with that I couldn't hold back anymore, tears spilling down my cheeks. "It was awful! I was- so- so cold, and it was so dark. I couldn't think. Ray- Remus told me I shouldn't go, but I just had to, I had to see him. But then I blacked out, and I woke up in St. Mungo's. Remus doesn't like it there, so it had to have been bad."

Fred continued to stroke my hair as George freed his arms and held me close. I didn't dare look at them, not when they knew now what a wimp I was.

"How- how old were you?" Fred wondered.

"I was seven. I lived with my Uncle until I was a year old and then was sent to Remus when he was incarcerated. I had vague memories, and wanted to properly meet him since I was old enough to understand."

The boys murmured their understanding, and George pulled back enough to wipe the tears from my face. "We are here, Leo."

I looked up at the use of my real name.

"And we won't leave you alone. We know Azkaban is an awful place, and it was so brave of you to go there on your own. If you want, we can just go to the kitchens and have a snack, we don't have to do what we'd planned. We wanted to take you to Hogsmeade a little early is all, but we won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

I nodded, grateful to them both. "Could we go later? I would love to go, but right now I don't think I can make it through the tunnel. My hearts racing and my knees are wobbly already."

Fred nodded, glanced at George, and swooped me up into his arms. I let out a faint squeak but settled my arms around his neck as he held me and his wand. George went to check the coast was clear to open the tunnel again, and I scrubbed the tears from my face. I was honestly exhausted. Crying will do that to you.

And so Fred carried me, while George cleared the hallway of any gawkers, and we made our way to the kitchens. There was a painting of a bowl of fruit, and he tickled the pear, which let out a soft giggle and turned into a doorknob. Once inside, I saw dozens of house elves running around. One made her way over to us, her pillowcase dress bunched in her hands, and asked in a squeaky voice, "What can Tippy do for Missers Weasley and their friend?"

Fred instructed Tippy we needed hot chocolate and some brownies, which she quickly fetched, and the rest of the night was passed talking. The boys retelling some of their better pranks, and I told them of the few muggle pranks I knew. At some point, the warm atmosphere and a full belly lulled me to sleep. I woke up the next morning in the Gryffindor dorms, wedge solidly between two heads of orange hair.