"Annabelle, what is that?" I heard Hermione ask with a curious look toward my book on my nightstand.

"The Notebook," I said, brushing my hair so I'd look decent for class.

"What notebook?" she asked confused.

"It's a romance novel." I put down my brush and let my hair sort itself to the back.

"Why are you reading something so stupid?" she asked me. She looked at the cover and giggled a little.

"It's not stupid, at least I don't think it is. I really like it. It lets my mind run free." I sprayed a few mists of perfume on me, inhaling it's scent.

"But it never happens. None of it ever happens. It's like the author writes these things to torture girls who just want someone to love." She sat on my bed and crossed her arms.

"Oh, shush. You have Fred for yourself." I giggled and put on my robes.

"Oh but of course I do. It's just that this year's his last, and he's extremely focused on his jokes," she said, pushing her bottom lip out.

"That wouldn't end a relationship though, would it?" I eyed her, making sure she wasn't expecting me to decode this secret.

"Of- of course not," she shook her head and popped a mint in her mouth.

Hermione and I strolled over to the Great Hall to go eat our first meal of the day.

I saw Harry sitting all alone, and decide to sit next to him. After eating for a few minutes, my hand sat in my lap, wiping itself on my napkin. Harry's hand was sitting to the right of his thigh, gently brushing against my hand. I softly gasped and moved my hand up to the table.

Either he could hardly feel it, or he thought nothing of it.

My face heated up and put out a little color as always, turning my cheeks a bright shade of pink.
Hermione, watching from across the table, nudged my foot while smirking to herself.

I focused down on my pancake sitting in front of me, and I poked at it multiple times with my fork. I ran a hand through my hair, sighing. It wouldn't ever happen. I don't know why small ambiguous events like these kept popping up, making my day hell. If he didn't have feelings for me, I refuse to waste my time having feelings for him.

Harry's POV

I saw Hermione and Belle walk to the table, sitting down. Hermione sat across the table from where Annabelle sat, which was right beside me. I saw Annabelle's hand move toward her napkin, which was sitting right on her lap. I didn't really know what I was doing. I kind of wanted to make a subtle move, if any move at all. I brushed my hand upon hers, acting as if it just went there on its own. I wanted to see what she would do; whether or not she would pull away.

I wanted to see whether or not she had feelings for me.

As soon as my fingers made contact with hers, she pulled her hand back toward her plate, fiddling with the napkin.

So I guess we have an answer.

It doesn't matter. I don't care. I have Cho. Cho has feelings for me, I know she does. If Annabelle doesn't, I have a backup.

It's just that I have these massive feelings for Annabelle that just aren't there when it comes to Cho. Cho and I are only physically attracted to each other; I don't really like her when it comes to personality.

But the attraction I have with Annabelle is so intertwined with everything.

Physically.

Mentally.

Insanely…

"I need to go to this thing I have to do- over at this- place," Annabelle quickly got up, biting her bottom lip.

She bites her lip when she's thinking.

What's she thinking about? Where's she going? Belle doesn't do anything extracurricular other than Quidditch, and season hasn't started.

I watched her as she paced out the double doors, looking left, then right. She first walked down one side of the hall, and then she turned around and walked the other direction.

Oh Annabelle, Annabelle…

A few minutes after I finish my plate, I heard people talking about something in particular.

McGonagall and Umbridge were having some argument by the stairs.

It was about how Umbridge punished me.

"Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared. Cornelius would like to take immediate action," she said, frowning.

I looked around the crowd of people for Annabelle. I didn't see her, Maybe she just needed some air..

Or maybe I did something.

Annabelle's POV

I walked out the doors, unsure of which way I wanted to go. I went to the left. I knew that was where teachers would be walking from, so I decided to walk into the other direction, just so no one would ask me questions or get suspicious.

I didn't have anywhere to go. All I wanted to do was get away from Harry for a few minutes. I couldn't stand to be around him without feeling the feelings I do. The one thing I want more than ever is for things to rewind back to last year; when Cedric was alive, Harry and I were still together, and Cho wasn't an attraction to Harry.

I guess I'll have to wait for something major to change. Harry has no feelings for me, and that's what kills me inside. Last summer, I swore myself two things.

1. I will not fall in love.

2. Under no circumstances would it ever be with Harry Potter.

I even wrote it out on a sheet of paper somewhere.

I went outside. There was a tree resting its branches nearly 20 feet high, blossoming with forest green leaves. I sat over there, leaning my back up against the bark of the tree.

I inhaled and exhaled hundreds of times before people started flooding out. I guess it's time to go to our first class... As I got my bag, I saw Hermione walking towards me, a book in her hands.

"Annabelle," she started. "You know as well as I do that you can't just do things like that." I ran a hand through my hair, sighing.

"Why?" I asked, managing my way through the crowds of people trying to go to their next class.

"Because we were worried about you; we knew you didn't go anywhere specific.." she told me as we walked into Umbridge's classroom.

"I'm sorry," I said simply. I didn't feel like explaining it to her. I didn't want to tell anyone at all. It was hard for me to say anything about it; like I didn't have energy enough to spit it out. Like I knew that if I said it it'd be useless.

I sat down in Umbridge's class, opening up the ridiculous beginner book. I watched as Harry strutted into the class, his hand running through his hair. As soon as he was in the room, he looked to where my seat was, his crystal green eyes quickly moving from one spot to another. I made sure to not make eye contact with him.

"Please read page 57 through 82 of your books. I want you to take valid notes on a sheet of parchment, and turn it in at the end of class. I don't want to hear one word out of your mouths. Clear?" she asked hypothetically, ready to snap at a moment's notice. The woman was very uptight. I bet it's what makes her voice so shrill…

Later, I ate dinner with Hermione, the two of us going over a Potions exam we had the next day. Everyone seems to have a knack to stare at people who are studying while the rest are eating..

"What's an Amortentia?" Hermione asked me, going through her notes.

"The love potion. Remember?" I said, finishing up my plate.

"Right, right. Quiz me." She held out a sheet of paper with a list of terms for me to grab.

"Who's Sacharissa Tugwood?" I asked, looking at the parchment she handed me.

"The woman that founded the Beautifying potion," she said, instinctively holding out her index finger.

"Velerian?" I asked, watching as Draco Malfoy walks into the room. He winked at me and sat at the Slytherin table.

Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. Knowing him since the age of 6, I have never been quite fond of him, though for the past year and a half, he's seemed to have been quite fond of me…

"Richardson!" I heard someone call me. I'd just left Trelawney's class while Harry, Hermione, and Ron went off to Hagrid's hut. They wanted to check on him about the Hippogriff. It was going to be executed in a few days. Hagrid hasn't been feeling too swell about the topic.

I turned around behind me. Malfoy and his gang were sliding along past others, making their way toward me.

"Yeah?" I asked, not really wanting to talk to him…

"Whaddya say about coming to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" He put his arm around my shoulders. "You're a pureblood, not like that friend of yours.. I'm sure I'd be able to get over the fact you're in Gryffindor rather quickly if we-" he paused, fishing for the correct word. "Get to know each other a bit better. You know, the way we used to in Kindergarten," He pulled me closer to him. He really was my first friend, my first real friend that is. When we were in Primary school, we were the only to wizards in the school. Therefore, I was the only person he ever talked to. I kind of grew used to him. He became part of me; like my brother or something. When I hit the age of 9, I remember thinking he was a bit cute…but that ship's sailed. After he got into Slytherin and started acting like a bitch to Hermione, we no longer speak. I'm surprised he's even talking to me now, considering the fact that I'm not in his stupid house..

"No, thanks," I pull his arm off of my shoulders, moving away from him. "Go with that pug. What's her name…Pansy?" I smirked. I knew he hated her.

"She doesn't have that pretty factor you have." And then he walked away.

"Roots used in the Drought of Living Death," Hermione said, pulling me from my thoughts.

After we finished eating, Hermione and I left for the common room. I made sure to make it a priority to study this potion book, long and hard. The test is supposed to be a pain.

"Did you see Harry at dinner tonight?" Hermione asks, shaking her head.

"Oh I didn't look.. I'm sure he was there somewhere," I say, shrugging. As much as I wanted to deny it, I was searching for him the entire hour. I didn't get up, I just scanned every nook and cranny of the lunchroom with my eyes. Every time I knew I was in the same area as him, I went out of my way to look for him, just to make sure he was still there. To make sure that he didn't leave me.

"I don't know where he'd gone. Whatever, I'm sure it's nothing," she said while walking upstairs.

After a few minutes of studying that book, I realized the couch I was sitting on was a bit too comfortable for studying. After finishing chapter 13, I decided I'd let my head lean down on the pillow beside me. A few seconds pass, and before I knew it my mind faded of everything it thought about and plumaged into a deep abyss of nothing.

Harry's POV

I was up in my room for all of dinner. I was studying, and reading this letter I've received a few days ago, deciding what to do about it.

Harry,

I find it vital to let you know that Annabelle's mother has gone to Voldemort. She has surrendered herself as a follower of The Dark Lord. You may be wondering why I sent this letter to you, and not my daughter. One, I believe that Lacey, my wife, has been cursed. I think that they casted the Imperius curse on her. As hard as it is to admit, you are closer to Annabelle than I am. I'm worried that if I let her know of this tragic event, she'd go off looking for her mother, putting her in grave danger. I myself have thought about rescuing Lacey, removing the curse from upon her; but if I am mistaken and there is no curse, my life would come to an end. Two, I do not believe the Dark Lord would have done this if he wasn't targeting you. Voldemort wants to hurt those closest to you, consequently getting to you yourself. Annabelle is my jewel. The most precious of all the jewels I could ever imagine. I don't want her to go anywhere near The Dark Lord. If you believe she can handle herself, I want you to tell her about this. But of course, if she decides to be the curious and daring one she is and you think she'll go try to solve this mystery to save her mother, please don't let her read this. I will try to safely understand what's happened, or wait till they release the curse from upon her to take any further action.

I'm extremely sorry to be putting so much pressure on your shoulders, but this is when I need the help of someone who knows my daughter better than I do.
Please do what you think is best.

Kindest Thanks,

Rolint Richardson,

Annabelle's father.

I didn't know what to do. Annabelle is a naturally courageous girl. I know for a fact that she'd go out to look for her mother if she was given the news. Her and her mother were insanely close, and I know it'd be hell for her to read this letter and know that the person that cared for her for her entire life has just been taken into the hands of Lord Voldemort. As much as I thought she should know, I just couldn't get myself to make Annabelle feel so much pain. I've kept this from her since the summer, since the end of summer. She got really close to reading it too; the last day of break I had it sitting under my pillow. I had rushed down to get breakfast while she offered to help me pack my stuff. Then I realized she was going to see the letter. I wasn't sure if I wanted to let her read it yet. I quickly ran up there and made sure she didn't get her hands or eyes on it. She shouldn't know. If she does, she can get herself hurt. There's nothing a 15 year old can do when it comes to Voldemort. I need to tell her, though. I mean, she has full right to know. It's her mother they're talking about. The mother that always sent her gifts on Christmas and her birthdays. Her main support when she was going through a rough time at school or at home. The one that raised her up the way she is today. She has a right to know where she is. It's my selfish wants that's making my conscience attack me each time I try to.

But today, I'll do it. I'll tell Annabelle what she deserves to know.

I walk to the Gryffindor common room in hopes of finding her there.

Laying there with a book in her hand, was Annabelle Richardson. Her face resting on the pillow that belonged to the couch she was sitting on. A completely relaxed look on her face: the one I missed. She was only wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater,

it was nearly 50 degrees in here. I stood there for a good few minutes, just staring at her face. I smiled a small one and started to walk back to my room, not wanting to wake her. As soon as I walked out the door and faced the freezing cold, I turned back around and walked to a cabinet in the Common Room. I found a fuzzy blanket folded up and stuffed in the shelf. I got it out, and put it on Annabelle, making sure she stayed warm. I then took another good look at her, and walked out of the room for the rest of the evening; trying to plan out the date and time I'll tell Annabelle about what Voldemort has done to complicate the Wizarding World even more.