A/N: I thought I would do my Authors Notes at the start! Okay, first of all, to Guest reader, I haven't heard of Quills and Serpents, is it good? And no, I can't have copied their ideas if I haven't read or even heard of it. It does happen, people get the same ideas and Emma could be based on me. So no, I haven't copied seeing as I haven't heard of it.

PeanutCookiesXD - thank you for all your support! 100 plates of Peanut Cookies for you!

20Chole02 - again, thank you for your reviews! Don't worry - being single is awesome! Just eat Nutella and cookies :) 100 plates of homemade virtual cookies for you :)

…Chapter 5…

…Confrontation…

"EMMA! OPEN UP!"

I crawl off the floor and open the locked door. Rose is standing there, light pink in her cheeks, panting.

"You've been in there for fifteen minutes! I got worried! Merlin, Emma, I thought you were sick or something," she huffs, pulling me into a hug.

I accept her hug, smiling softly into her hair.

This is kind of exactly how we first met.

"Come on, let's go."

Em coaxes me out of the bathroom and down the stairs. She only manages to do that by giving me some chocolate frogs.

We reach the bottom of the stairs and I see Potter waiting on the balcony. The sun is setting. His hair is blowing softly in the wind. His fit Quidditch body in semi-visible through the plain white shirt that he is wearing. All in all, he looks god damn amaz - NO NO NO! HE LOOKS HORRIBLE! BLURGH!

"Go talk to him. He wants to apologise," Rose nudges me forward.

"Potter? Apologise?" I scoff.

She shoves me forward. I hesitantly make my way forward and place my hands on the wood. The sun shimmers on the water making it look like a movie set.

"Layne - Emma," he begins.

I snap my head around. He used my first name?

"I - I - I'm sorry for erm, what I said before. That was plain rude and it's not y place to say anything like that," he mumbles.

The tops of his ears turn red and his green eyes look up at me. I get an electric shock through my spine.

"It's okay," I find myself saying.

What the hell, Emma?

He grins a lazy grin. My insides trun to jelly - NO THEY DON'T! NO THEY ABSOLUTELY DON'T!

"Emma, we're going now," Charlie tells me, walking out.

"Erm, bye?" I say. Merlin, it came out as a question.

"Bye," he murmurs.

Charlie and I bid our farewells and we flop back home, following mother's disappearance. When I get home, I see father sitting at the kitchen table. First time I've seen him in seven point five days. One time, I didn't see him four fifteen point six days. That's how it is now.

"Hello, Father," I murmur timidly.

He looks up at me and ignores me.

"I brought us some Chocolate Frogs at Diagon Alley today. Would you like one?" I ask him, moving closer.

Silence.

I wait for another fifteen seconds. Nothing but the sound of ink against parchment can be heard.

"Good night, father," I murmur.

Nothing.

I walk up the black velvet stair case trying very hard to swallow the burning sensation out of my throat. As soon as I hit the landing of my room, I start crying.

"Mother!" I cry as I spot Mother in the crowd. It's the end of First Year and I am begging that Mother and Father will still talk to me.

"Darling!" she cries, hugging me.

"Hi my big boy!" Father smiles, hugging Charlie.

"Hi Father!" I smile as I stand back from Mother.

He doesn't look at me.

"Father?" I ask.

"You are a disgrace. I will talk to you at home," he hisses.

Tears spring to my eyes.

We floo home but I don't really focus on anything. Once we get home, Father asks me to go to his office. We walk in silence up to his black and dark green study. He sits down, but I stay standing.

"You are a disgrace."

"Pardon?" I ask him.

"You are an absolute disgrace to this family. To the family name. A Layett? Being sorted into Ravenclaw? Are you honestly kidding me?" he tells me.

"I - I - I'm sorry, Father. But the Sorting Hat was going to out me into Slytherin, but - but - but it said that my brains outdid my cunningness," I tell him, trembling.

"THAT DOESN'T MATTER!" He yells at me.

I cower against his tall form. I fumble for my wand.

"I'm sorry," I cry. I didn't know I was crying until I felt the wetness of my cheeks.

"THAT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU'RE A RAVENCLAW!" he spits the word 'Ravenclaw' out like its vermin.

"I'M SORRY!" I scream, screaming louder than him, "JUST BECAUSE I HAVE MORE BRAINS THAN CUNNINGNESS DOESN'T MEAN THAT I AM STUPID! RAVENCLAW'S ARE AS SMART AS ANYTHING! WHERE IS THE LITTLE GIRL, HUH? THAT WAS ME A YEAR AGO! A HOUSE SHOULDN'T CHANGE A THING!"

"I AM DISOWNING YOU!" he yells at me.

My head snaps to face him. I flee from the room, crying and running to my sanctuary. Time to get decorating.

After a couple of minutes, I stop crying. Merlin, I was only 11. I decide that I may as well pack my trunk with everything I need. I get up and sort through my clothes. I end up packing anything and everything. I jump on top of my trunk and end up shutting it. Okay, time for toiletries. I walk into the green and black bathroom, leaving my Ravenclaw sanctuary. Oh, how much I longed to go back in time and help my little 11 year old self and tell her that it's okay being a Ravenclaw. That you wouldn't have had Rose Weasley as your best friend. I slam my toiletries bag down onto the black tiled sink and march to Father's office.

I knock loudly on his door.

"Come in," comes his muffled voice.

I open the door.

"Why do you hate me?" I ask him clearly.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid idea Emma!

He looks up surprised.

"Get out," he sneers.

"No. I will once you tell me why you hate me so much? WHAT DID I DO?" I cry.

"You are a Ravenclaw." His answer is simple but yet, makes so much sense coming from him.

"What happened to our relationship? Hmm? What happened to the father that used to take his little girl shopping for different types of Chocolate Frogs? What happened to the father that used to have 'bacon eating' competitions with his daughter? Where is my father?" I yell.

"YOU HAVE NO FATHER!" he bellows.

I look at him. There are no traces of the kind loving father that I had six years ago.

"You're right. I don't know who the bloody hell you are," I sneer at him, flicking him the finger. He doesn't know what it means anyway.

I walk out of the room and strait to the the bathroom. I grab what I need and sprint to my room. This time I don't cry. I chuck everything into my trunk and fill my bag with money, books, quills, parchment, books. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.