Disclaimer—I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

-the story-

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Sarra holler'd as Fred Weasley collapsed onto the grass.

"Just trying to get my point across, since Wood clearly wasn't listening. Maybe you'll listen now. Get off the pitch." Flint was twirling a bat in his hand while the other was lazily wrapped around the handle of his broom.

"Flint, we were fucking here first! YOU get off the pitch." Oliver stepped up to Flint, standing chest to chest.

The other captain reached into his robes and pulled out a note signed by Professor Snape, "We have permission to be here to practice right now? See?"

Oliver held a similar note in his hand signed by Professor McGonagall, "Aye! So do we! So gowan pick yer windae!"

Sarra could see that this was getting nowhere fast, so she decided to take some kind of initiative. "I have a proposal gentleman!" She quickly stepped between the two of them, "Why don't we have scrimmage, right now?"

"I only have one beater!" Oliver was clearly irritated.

Flint shrugged, "S'not my problem, mate. You should have listened!"

Oliver balked, "Th' hell it isn't your problem! You're th' one who hit him!" Angelina and Katie had to literally hold Oliver back.

"We'll play with only one beater as well!" Sarra turned to Flint, and narrowed her eyes saying, "Won't we, Marcus?"

"Like hell we will! I don't have to do anything for those…tossers." Flint's gaze swept over the Gryffindor team.

"Who are you calling tossers?" Harry had been standing behind Oliver during the entire altercation. Seeming to have gotten the courage to say something to the quarreling fifth years, he stepped forward and tried his best to look menacing. Sarra couldn't help but think that he looked like their father pretending to be Nessie, she giggled.

Harry snapped his face towards Sarra, "And why are you laughing? You think it's funny, that we have an injured player?! You Slytherins are just a bunch of cold, heartless, brutes!" Sarra's expression did a complete 180. She went from laughing and smiling, to nearly being on the verge of violence, herself..

"Excuse me? I'm the one trying to keep your captain from getting you lot injured any further! I thought that would be the primary objective here, but clearly you want your team to end up in the hospital wing, causing a forfeit in our favor for the match this weekend. Right?" She turned back towards her teammates then decided to add, "Oh and by the way, don't let McGonagall find out about your Potions grades, or she pull you off the team in a heartbeat. Let's get out of here, Flint. We'll still win if they practice now or not. Let it go"

Flint looked down at Sarra for a long time before finally muttering "Fine," and turning to head back to the locker rooms.

The Gryffindor team was able to bring Fred back to the land of the living, and they all took off to the air to begin running drills. All except for Harry and Oliver.

"Hey! We're not finished here!"

"Harry, hush." Oliver tried to keep the over-confident first year quiet.

"How do you know about my grades?"

Sarra narrowed her eyes, it was getting harder and harder every second not to just tell him, but it would be a tad awkward to just come out and say, "Oh hello, my name isn't Sarra Evans it is in fact Sarra Potter, and I'm your sister! What's that? No one told you that you had a sister? Oh, yes, well that's because Dumbledore said it would be safer for everyone involved, if I went to live with our grandparents in France, while the Dark Lord, went to the house and murdered our parents" No, that wouldn't be helpful. So, for the moment Sarra settled on saying, "Because you are going to be tutored every Wednesday until your grades come up, by…. Me."

"Harry, go'n start running drills with the rest." Oliver wanted to talk to Sarra alone.

The two fifth years watched as Harry flew up to join the rest of the team, sulking the whole way. Oliver turned to Sarra, his had outstretched.

Sarra looked down at it, and slowly raised her own hand to shake his.

"I want to get to know you better, Evans." Oliver looked up from their hands to her face; she bore a mildly amused expression. "Same, Wood."

"Evans!" Flint, called out to her, urging her to hurry up, so that they could go over plays in the Great Hall during dinner.

While he watched her walk up the slope towards the school, Oliver knew that he did indeed have feelings for a certain girl, who was sure to give him hell this coming weekend.

Harry was walking to dinner after that row with the Slytherin team. He couldn't believe he stood up to a fifth year! He had felt so very manly and grown-up.

But, Angelina and Katie had to go and ruin it by saying things like, "You really shouldn't have done that Harry." "Oliver can take care of himself." "You nearly caused a fight, Harry."

He was just trying to help. It wasn't like it was entirely his fault anyway, that fifth year girl was as just as much to blame as he was! Where did she get off treating him like some little kid! Yeah, he's only eleven, but still! It's not like she's his mother or anything.

Harry was deep in thought, and was hardly looking where he was going and bumped into someone who clearly couldn't see over the enormous stack of books they had. Harry got up and started stacking the books that had fallen to the floor, along with their keeper. "Jeez, Hermione! What do you need all these books for anyway? We don't have any big assignments due, do we?"

The bushy-haired girl got up and started straightening the books, "No, I was just doing some outside research. And oh, Harry! You aren't going to believe what I discovered!"

"And what is that?" He asked as he handed Hermione the rest of her books.

"Not everyone in your family was killed."

"Hello? Are you there?" Hermione stared at the young boy who had at that moment apparently become quite deaf. Snapping her fingers by his ears brought him back to reality. "Did you hear what I said?"

Harry looked up at her wide-eyed. "It's not true."

"What? Yes it is."

"It can't be! Voldemort killed everyone in my family to make sure that I was…out of the way. Hermione, it's just not true!"

"Harry, yes it is. Look here."

She put the stack of books on the floor and began sorting through them until she got to the one she needed. 'Noble, Notable, and Great Magic Families: A History.' She flipped open to a rather large family tree.

"Look," she said pointing to his parents, "There are your parents; your mother, and your father. Here, is you. Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1980, yes?" The boy nodded. "Ok, now over here, there is another child. There seemed to be a name entered, but it was burned out of the book. The birthdate is still here though…October 16, 1976. She's four years older than you."

Harry couldn't believe it. There was a chance that he still had family out there! Real family. "Why would they just erase them like that? But how do you know that they are alive?"

Hermione sighed, "Honestly, Harry, you would think that you would have known me by now. I research anything that is important, thoroughly." She opened up her book bag and pulled out several, old and yellowed copies of The Daily Prophet.

Harry was about to take the papers from her when they heard the sickening drawl from their least favorite professor.

"What the devil is going on here? And just what is all this rubbish cluttering the hallway?"

Hermione began to worry that Snape would discover what she had found, and use it against them somehow. After all, he did let in that troll at Halloween. "It's nothing professor, just discussing some homework." She quickly stuffed the papers back into her bag.

"Yes, well, I suggest you do this in the Great Hall, or your common room. You are beginning to clog the corridor."

Harry looked up and down the hallway, "Professor, there is no one else in the hallway but—"

Snape shot his hand up to stop him, "Twenty points from Gryffindor. I will not be argued with Mr. Potter. Now, on your way."

Grumbling, Harry and Hermione gathered up most of the books (accidentally leaving a few) and headed toward the Great Hall for dinner.

Snape knelt down to get a better look at the books the two had failed to pick up. He spread them out, and began reading the titles, 'Transfigure This!: The concise, companion guide to A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration,' 'Potions! Everything You Could Screw Up, But Shouldn't!,' as well as an already worn out copy of 'Hogwarts, A History,' yet the very last book made Snape a bit uncomfortable, he picked it up and headed towards the Headmaster's office.

A dark, cloaked figure watched, as Snape hurriedly made his way towards Dumbledore's office, and slowly…followed.

After dinner, Sarra felt like exploring. She hadn't ever really found the time previously, being too caught up with trying to prove herself to Marcus Flint that she was just as good as-if not better than-the rest of the Slytherin ream. So, now that she had some free time alone to herself, she started walking the halls of Hogwarts looking out of the windows, chatting with whatever painting or ghost decided to strike up a conversation, and generally being in a good mood.

As she rounded a corner, a painting of a boy drawing water from a well stopped her, "Miss Evans?" The boy inquired.

"Umm, yes?"

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office, right now, if it's possible." The boy seemed a bit shy at giving her this message, he looked back down at the pail he seemed to be struggling with.

"Oh, ok." She turned around and began walking to the Headmaster's office.

…Then it occurred to her that she didn't really know where the Headmaster's office was…

So she stopped and began asking the paintings, who very kindly and directly, directed her in the right direction.

"Severus, there is no need to worry" Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair.

"No need to worry? Sir, I beg your pardon, but there is a great deal to worry about here. The Dark Lord is on the rise again, sir. You are more aware of his spies here than he is, probably. Didn't you separate them to protect them in the first place?"

"Indeed, Severus. But you forget, we left enough of her out in the open so that if he wanted to inquire about his family, he could."

"But, sir…How is that safe for either of them?" Dumbledore was a wise and clever, old wizard indeed, but Severus had his doubts about the man's sanity sometimes.

There was a knock at the door. Dumbledore but his finger to his mouth gesturing that he and Snape would finish the conversation later, clearing his throat, he said, "Come in."

-end-