"Fred."

"You're supposed to be a Gryffindor? Why not?"

"Because…." I gulped.

"Let off!" George punched his twin.

"I was just asking! Didn't know it was such a sensitive subject!" Fred rolled his eyes.

"No, no, it's fine. You have a right to know…"

"So are you gonna tell us, or just sit there?" Fred said impatiently.

"I'll tell you. Lucius Malfoy told me that he would kick me out if I was in any house but Slytherin. And so…I'm not brave enough to not care about being kicked out of Malfoy Mansion, so I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin."

The twins looked rather confused. "So you asked…to be in Slytherin?"

"Yes…"

"It let you boss it around?!"

"Don't know, okay?" I got up from my spot on the quidditch bleachers. "Gotta go over to the Slytherin side."

"But the game doesn't start for a while! Come on, sorry we were being annoying!"

"No, it's fine. Go talk with the other Gryffindors." I made my way through the awkwardly placed bleachers over to the other side of the quidditch stadium, where a few spots of green already sat, shivering in the December cold.

"Titiana!" Harvest, several rows up, waved her arms around. "Come sit over here!" She patted the empty spot beside her, covered by a hat and scarf. "I'm keeping it warm!"

I laughed. "Thanks for saving me a spot. But…you do know that's against the rules, right?"

"Yeah. Who cares?"

"The people who make the rules?" I sat down.

"Titania?" Harvest suddenly seemed tentative.

"What?"

"I saw you outside in the Forbidden Forest in October with some other people. I've been meaning to ask you what you were doing out there."

"Nothing."

"And I seem to remember that someone told me that we weren't supposed to go into the Forbidden Forest."

"Listen, Harvest-"

"And I saw you with two other people. I've been racking my brain for people with red hair who you might be with, and I hadn't come up with any matches…until I saw you hanging out with those Weasley twins!"

"No, Harvest, it's not what you think it is!"

"I think it's exactly what I think it is! You're supposed to be a Slytherin! Gryffindors and Slytherins are rivals!"

"No, that's not the point at all! We're supposed to be all in harmony throughout the houses!"

"Well, from what I've seen, there isn't any 'harmony throughout the houses.' At all!"

"lt may be scarce now, but it's what is supposed to happen, not this-this!" I waved my arms around.

"You can try whatever you want to bring about 'interhouse harmony' or whatever. Hangout with those Blood trait-Weasley twins,"

I interrupted her. "Wait, Harvest, did you just say 'Blood traitors'? Because I thought you didn't know about that yet?"

She looked very flustered. "Well-well-well maybe someone else in my friend now." She got up. "Sit alone. I'm finding another seat."

The quidditch match was well played. The Slytherins won 220 to 210, the Gryffindor seeker getting the snitch with a dangerous Wronski Feint. The Slytherin seeker slammed into the ground, and they had to pull him out for the rest of the game, even though the game was short lived after that.

I tried to catch up to Harvest after the game. "Hey!" I was one of the smaller ones in the crowd, so my voice was muffled in the older year's robes. "Hey Harvest!"

"Get out of my way, kid," was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

"Wait…what's going on?" I murmured. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital wing, dear." A calming voice said.

I opened my eyes. A old lady with a nurse's outfit on sat on a chair beside my…my hospital bed? "I need to get out of here! I need to talk to Harvest!" I sat up, but a sharp pain went through my head. "Ga!"

"Lie back down, lie back down." She pushed me gently down. "I am Madame Pomfrey, and you have been sleeping for two days."

"TWO DAYS!" I tried to sit up again, but the same happened as the first time. "What is with my head?"

"We think you may have some kind of concussion. Professor Snape has brewed a potion that will prevent you from having any permanent brain damage, but your vision may be a bit fuzzy and you might have trouble remembering things. Also, you sleep. A lot."

"And how did I get this 'concussion'?"

"The Gryffindor quidditch captain was coming through and he pushed you out of the way. He was obviously annoyed after losing a match, so he may have used more force than he intended to. You fell into the crowd and someone hit you on the head. My theory is that a broomstick bumped you, but who knows?" Madame Pomfrey shrugged.

"I need to get up."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I need to talk to Harvest."

"She'll come if it matters. Is, by any chance, Harvest one of those identical red-headed boys who visited you a few times while you were asleep?"

"No, no! Those are Fred and George."

"Ah. Well, they are better friends than this Harvest of yours."

"Why?"

"They care."

"Don't assume things about Harvest! We just had an argument. She's probably still mad."

"Yes, of course." Madame Pomfrey's voice turned patronizing. Too bad. I had just started to like her. "Now, drink this potion-"

"What is it?"

"I told you, the potion that Professor Snape made to prevent any permanent brain damage. Now drink it!" She forced it into my hand. I gulped it down. It tasted like the bile that comes up in your throat when you throw up.

"That's gross," I said, putting the the empty bottle on the nightstand beside me. Madame Pomfrey was already up and walking. "Why are you going?" My eyelids drooped. "Sleeping draught," I whispered.