[Chapter Eleven: A Pitch for a Witch. Edited.]

It was finally the day of Quidditch. Harry looked almost sick with nerves at breakfast, and played with his food rather than eat it. He hadn't put any food on my plate, which was very unlike him. I was worried, to say the least.

"Harry you better eat something!" Ron said, buttering himself a slice of toast.

"Maybe you shouldn't in case you get nervous and puke," My words of wisdom were not appreciated; Hermione threw me a distasteful look.

"Ron's right Harry, you need to eat something," Said Hermione, deciding to ignore me.

"Good luck today, Potter." said a cold voice. I looked up to see Snape, and was so confused I missed most of what he said. "Even if it is against Slytherin." he walked off leaving the others looking as confused as I felt.

Ron shrugged, "That was weird."

"Yeah," Harry said, staring after Snape.

"Come on Harry, we gotta go!" said Fred and George together as they pulled him away.

"Help me." he mouthed, making me laugh.

"No more eating! We need to get good seats!" complained Ron, but Hermione and I weren't eating.

We walked – or rather ran – up the corridor and down the Quidditch pitch and into the stands.

Miraculously, there were seats in the front row. The three of us sat, and were soon joined by Hagrid. He waved at me, despite being half a foot away from me.

"Shhh! It's starting!" said Hermione.

"Shhh? For a game of Quidditch? You're joking —"

"Shut up!" Hermione whacked Ron across the arm.

"The quaffle is released and the game begins!" said Fred and George's friend, Lee Jordan, who was doing the commentary.

The quaffle flew left and right-up and down. I honestly had no idea what was going on. I was the only one sitting down, while everyone else stood, screaming. In all honesty, I didn't have the strength to stand. All the flying figures were moving too fast for me to really focus – except for Harry, who seemed to be doing some kind of sky work out.

Hermione looked at me, "You have no idea what's going on either?"

"Harry doesn't look right." I pointed upwards and she followed my gaze.

"Hey... what's happening with Harry up there?" said Hagrid loudly to my right. He drew everyone's attention.

"His broom is trying to buck him off." Ron explained, looking through binoculars.

"That brooms been tampered with!" Hagrid shouted. Everyone started yelling and booing.

"Gimme that!" said Hermione grabbing the binoculars off Ron. "It's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!" Hermione vanished from sight and Ron looked at me.

"What's she going to do?" He said, incredulous. "Set his robes on fire?"

With not a moment to spare, Harry's broom stopped bucking him, and he was able to swing his leg over and continue as though nothing had happened.

Hermione re-emerged a few minutes later, red-faced and looking empowered.

"You are brilliant," Ron said to her.

"I set Snape's robes on fire."

Ron's eyes went wide, "Bloody brilliant."

"Oh my god!" Lavender Brown screamed as Harry did an awkward manoeuvre, quite close to the ground. He reached out for the snitch and flipped off of his broom.

"I think he's gonna be sick!" Hagrid stated. Harry clutched his stomach and coughed out something.

"POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFINDOR WINS!" boomed Lee over the speaker.

We met Harry down on the field, Hagrid leading the way, and the four of us were invited for a cup of tea at Hagrid's.

Harry looped his arm around my back in what could be perceived as a friendly way, but what we both knew was a 'Willow is about to fall over and die' way. I had no idea how Harry seemed to figure me out so easily, and deal with me so subtly that I wasn't embarrassed.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining to Harry as we sat down in Hagrid's cabin. "Hermione, Willow and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

"I found out something about him," Harry told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Hallowe'en. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

"You were in the hospital wing," Ron added to me, seeing my confused expression.

Hagrid dropped the teapot, "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me any more," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish. Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!' said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –"

"Aha!" said Harry. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

"I swear to god, do you ever wake up?" I opened my eyes. Hermione was standing hauntingly over me. "And what kind of position is that?"

I was lying the wrong way on my bed, with my legs hanging off one end, and my head drooping off the other.

"What time is it?"

"Six o'clock."

"What day is it?"

"Saturday. What time did you go to sleep?"

"Last time I checked the clock, it was four-thirty."

"Your sleeping hours are not healthy, Willow."

Neither is having nightmares about your parents, Hermione.

"Why are we awake...?" There was more to my sentence by it was drowned out by a yawn.

"Harry asked us to tag along to his Quidditch practice! Remember? We are going to be late! Get dressed."

I changed into a plain blue shirt, dark denim jeans, and black canvas joggers.

"I didn't even know I had this outfit."

"They had a letter pinned on them, saying Dumbledore bought them." She eyed me with curiosity.

Don't ask about my past. Do not ask about my past.

We arrived in the common room just as Harry and Ron were leaving. Harry learnt against the wall as I yawned, "It's unlike you two to be late."

"Willow decided to screw up her sleeping pattern."

Harry frowned at me. I yawned again in response and we walked down to the Quidditch pitch. Ron, Hermione and I climbed the stairs without saying a word. We were far too tired for conversation.

We took our seats and Hermione conjured up another little jarred fire for us. I stretched my legs out so I was lying over two benches and winced.

"You okay, Willow?" Ron sat up straight, observing me. I nodded. "Did you ever go to the hospital wing after the troll?" I shook my head. "He hit you pretty hard, Willow. You should go." He wasn't wrong, my bruises were a funky yellow colour. But they'd fade soon.

His latest protest was interrupted as an eagle flew past, dropping a letter in my lap.

"That's my Father's..." I opened the envelope with fumbling hands and unfolded the letter.

Dear Willow,

Your mother and I would be honoured if you would join us for the holidays. I know we've had our issues, but we would like to make it up to you.

Sincerely,

Your Loving Father, Lucius Malfoy.

"They'd like to make it up to you?" said Ron with an unreadable look on his face. He and Hermione had read it over my shoulder. I folded the letter and put it in my pocket.

"Why? What have they done?" Hermione moved seats so she was facing me.

"They, umm... Just showed favouritism to Draco."

"No they didn't," The pair said.

"What did they do?" Ron asked.

I looked at my knees, "don't worry about it."

"Don't give me that." Hermione said. "Trust us, we're your friends."

There was a long silence, and I knew they wouldn't drop the topic. I had to tell the truth, without incriminating my parents.

"I – During the sorting, my father called me a squib. I didn't show any trace of magic when I was at home. They honestly thought I was one. So they treated me, uh, not great... That's all there is to it, really."

Ron raised his eyebrows, "Bullshit."

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't believe you. There's more to it, Willow. Why else would you freak out every time a wand is pointed at you, or every time someone moves too quickly near you? You thought no one noticed that?"

There were tears filling my eyes, "They're my parents...they never wanted to hurt me...They were trying to make me be stronger and better."

"Not like this!"

"Ron's right Willow... you shouldn't go for Christmas."

"You can't go back there!"

"You don't understand."

"I don't know if you do," Hermione said, her dark eyes glittering with tears.

"Leave it alone." I stood up and left the stands, walking the whole way back to my dormitory.

I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn't help it. They wouldn't understand; they couldn't understand. I had to believe my parents loved me. That they were proud of me. Otherwise I would have nothing to hold onto...