When I woke up the next morning, I looked at my watch and saw that it was a little early for breakfast.

I am used to waking up early in my house, so that I can go outside and sit on the dewy grass before breakfast, watching the fiery sun rising above the hills. It's breathtaking. Daddy tells me that the sun looks just like my hair in some ways. I just roll my eyes and giggle softly when he does that.

This morning, though, was different. It was just me, and I couldn't go outside.

As soon as I pulled away the curtains from my four-poster bed, Hermione jumped up, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me down to the empty common room.

It was, again, very early, about six-thirty A.M., so I was confused as to why she was up and waiting for me.

"Her-Hermione? What's going on?" I whispered, rubbing my wrist.

"I know who you are." She whispered back, arms crossed over her chest, standing and staring at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, duh," I said matter-of-factly. "I told you last night. I'm Krystal Weasley!"

Hermione mirrored me and rolled her eyes. "Krys, you told me the puzzle pieces. I only had to put them together. You have the same birthday as Harry Potter, July 31st. You are adopted because your parents died when you were young. Your name is Krystal. Spelled a certain way. Not many people spell Crystal with a 'K'!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Where are you going with this, Hermione?" She leaned in, arms still crossed.

Such an evil 11-year-old.

Just like me. I like her.

"Harry Potter had a sister named Krystal. Spelled with a 'K'."

I laughed, hiding my nervousness. "She died. Voldemort killed her." Yeah, yeah, I say the name.

I think it's idiotic that people are afraid to say it.

It's a stupid name, for Merlin's sakes!

Suddenly, Hermione lunged at my hair… and me! I shrieked and tried to move aside, but she tackled me, and pinned me down.

She moved my carefully placed bangs aside, and sat back with an air of satisfaction. "There. You have the same scar that Harry does. That proves it – You're Krystal Potter!"

I looked around and hissed, "Shut up, 'Mione! I don't want anyone to know. You saw how they went crazy over Harry!"

She looked at me flustered. "He doesn't know, does he?"

I shook my head and pushed her off. "All right, then that settles it. Let's go tell him!" Her (very long, I might add) fingernails closed around my wrist again in a clamp-like hold, but I put my hand into a fist, pounded on her inner elbow, and she let go.

"Ow! What was that for?" She said, glaring at me.

"I'm not telling him until he trusts me! OK, let's act this out, all right? You're Harry Potter, a world-wide famous boy, at least with wizards, not Muggles, comes to Hogwarts, a wizarding school. There, the kids and teacher are amazed, and will probably treat you like a living legend, or something.

"To top it off, a girl that you barely know, whom you just met on a dang train the other day, stomps into your room at not even seven in the morning, pulls open your bed-curtains, and says, 'Hi, Harry! I'm Krystal Potter, the sister whom you thought was dead!' All in all, that would probably equal Harry losing his mind."

Hermione nodded, looking quite embarrassed now. Then she suddenly snapped her head up, and looked at me, her usually soft brown doe eyes now blazing.

"But you are so telling him when you get to know him more! I will study up on hexes and jinks to make you!" She threatened.

I laughed and nodded my head. "All right, 'Mione! I'll tell him later in the year, don't worry. Now, let's try to get some more sleep, eh? I'm getting kind of tired again, I don't know about you."

She nodded, and we trudged up the stairs. When we reached the door to the dormitory, I looked at her with a pleading look in my electric blue eyes and said, "Promise you won't

tell anyone? And that you will go talk to Dumbledore with me about it?"

Hermione looked at me confusedly. "Why do you need to talk to Dumbledore?" She questioned.

"Oh, um, just about some things. I'll tell you when we are absolutely sure that no one is listening. You never know."

She nodded, hiding her confusion now, and thankfully stopped asked questions.

We plopped on the scarlet beds, said 'Good morning', pulled the curtains around us, and then promptly fell back asleep.