"Hey!" I shouted as someone walking behind me thumped me on the back of my head. Suddenly Fred and Angie sat down on either side of me at the Gryffindor table, laughing. I sighed and rolled my eyes, smiling in spite of myself.

"Where's Fred and Alicia?" Angie asked me, shoving a forkful of my potatoes in her mouth. I scowled at her and grabbed my fork out of her hand.

"I don't know, you pig," I joked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice from my goblet. "You mean you haven't seen them?" I looked at Fred and he shrugged, yawning and piling up a load of food for himself. I yawned myself and looked down the table, but saw neither of them.

"Well then," Angie said, taking some modest portions of tonight's dinner. After flying this morning, I found myself exhausted and crashed in our room, sleeping through lunch. I hadn't seen anyone else all day.

We ate in comfortable silence, and when I finished, I pushed my plate away and rested my head on my elbows, yawning regardless of how much I had slept.

"Still tired, eh?" asked Fred, rubbing my back for a moment with his free hand before shoving a forkful of food in his mouth and taking a gulp of pumpkin juice.

"I guess," I said, stretching my arms over my head, "though I can't imagi-"

"Where were you this morning?" Angie cut me off. "I woke up and you were gone, but I fell back asleep. Then when I woke again, you were back," she said, looking quizzical. The jig was up.

"I was out flying," I mumbled. "Out on the pitch."

"Was anyone else there?" Fred asked, taking a break between bites.

"Nope," I said easily, taking a gulp from my goblet. "Just me." They didn't have to know, no one did. I don't like Oliver Wood, and that will never change. I didn't need someone getting the misguided notion that I could actually be friends with someone like him.

"Oh, look, there they are!" Angie exclaimed as Alicia and George sat down across from us.

"Hey, sorry it took so long. We were studying for, uh, potions," Alicia sputtered, smoothing her hair. George looked calm, but Alicia seemed frazzled.

"Studying? On a Saturday afternoon?" Angie asked, looking from one to the other.

"Yeah," George pronounced carefully. "Snape was really angry at us and a few other Gryffindors yesterday. We all now have to take a quiz on Monday about things we learned back in third year…"

"And it's George's fault," Alicia stated plainly. Angie and I winced while Fred and George hi-fived, laughing.

"You guys seriously need to control yourselves. Honestly," Angie shook her head and stood to walk away, but Fred reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back.

"Come on, Angie-" Fred laughed, "Have a little fun once in a while!" George finished. She squirmed but still let a smile crack her lips. Alicia hit George on the arm, though she was smiling too.

"I just don't want to have to take any more unnecessary quizzes!" she said, elbowing him in the side. He ruffled her hair and Fred let go of Angie, who sat back down at my left. I bumped my shoulder into Fred and gently nudged George's knee under the table with my foot.

"Alright guys, enough…" I said, beaming and suppressing a chuckle. Fred tugged on my hair and kissed me on the top of my head.

"You love us anyway, so what's the point," he stated, and I laughed, nodding.

Suddenly, the owls fluttered in, carrying letters and packages to the awaiting students of Hogwarts. I scanned the masses for my father's owl, but either I didn't see it, or it was unrecognizable amongst the throng of brown feathers. A surge of childish hope heaved through me as a seemingly familiar owl with a letter flew towards me, but it hurried by and dropped the letter in the awaiting hands of a Hufflepuff second year. I sighed, angry at myself for being disappointed. I knew my father, he's always been like this, and I loved him anyway - I just couldn't shake the nagging frustration that my own father couldn't take twenty minutes to write a short letter to his only daughter.

Angie put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, but I shook my head.

"No, I'm fine. He's just busy, I get it," I mumbled, shoving a biscuit in my mouth. That tended to be my way of getting out of having to say anything.

All of a sudden, however, a small brown owl bumbled through a window, heading towards us with a large round object wrapped in paper.

"Ping-ering-on?" I managed to say, having not chewed my food all the way. Alicia scowled at me, but I shook my head, swallowing painfully. "Look," I said, pointing, a smile splitting across my lips, "Pinkerington!"

It was my father's bird, named by my mother in a moment of absentmindedness. He awkwardly flew over toward us and dropped the package twice his size in my lap, landing next to me on the table. I smiled at the creature.

"Thank you, Pink," I said to him, holding out a portion of a biscuit. He took it in his beak and cooed softly, then more swiftly now without the round package, took wing toward the window.

"What is it?" asked George as Fred poked at it cautiously.

"I'm assuming it's a load of eyeliner and blusher he wanted me to give to the two of you," I joked, and they rolled their eyes.

"Blimey, if we knew something from your father could cheer you up this much we would have complained to him ourselves," said George, and I shrugged.

"It's been weeks! You hear from your parents daily," I said, bumping Fred in the shoulder with mine.

"Unfortunately," he muttered, "Consider yourself lucky." I grimaced.

"So what is it?" Angie burst, reaching at it. I quickly snatched it away. I looked up to see we were dismissed. "I'll open it in the common room." Angie grumbled something, but I didn't hear it as we filed out of the great hall.

"The suspense is killing us," whined Alicia, reaching out for it. I pulled it away and gave her a scowl. Alicia, George and I were sitting on the couch and Angie and Fred were standing, all looking at me expectantly. There were a lot of other Gryffindors around, and I wasn't too sure I wanted to open it in front of everyone. As if reading my mind, Angie piped in.

"Oh, no one else cares, just open it," she articulated, tapping her foot. I shook my head, chuckling, and tore the paper slightly. Scarlet leather. What?No…

I grabbed the paper and tore it from the object. I sat back and sighed. Jeez, Dad, you finally send something and it had to be this?

"A quaffle?" George said, grabbing it off my lap.

"You can have it," I grumbled, standing up to leave.

"Wait," he called, and I turned around. He held a small folded square of paper up to me. "He left you a note with it."

"Thanks," I muttered, already unfolding it.

My dearest Ana,

Sorry I've left you hanging there for these past few weeks. Quidditch has been all encompassing these days, you know? Maybe you don't, but I can't help but wish you'll forgive me. I'll try to write more, I promise.

The Magpies are pushing me to convince you to play. Lody and Borak's kids are all under ten, and they're already playing. We know you're good, and so do you. You have a chance to really make Gryffindor a great team. When you have off, maybe you could come and practice with us a few times? You used to love that, Ana, before Mom passed aw everything happened.

I sent you the quaffle so maybe you'd consider it, for me. And if not, at least you'd think of me when you saw it. Or, if it's really that bad, you can just give it to Oliver, I'm sure he'd have a use for it.

I dropped the letter.

Oliver? As in…Oliver Wood? How the hell does he know Wood? I looked back to the letter for some sort of explanation. Instead, all it said was:

Anyway, sorry I didn't write for so long. I love you so much.

Love,

Dad.

"So what'd he have to say?" asked Fred, coming up behind me and plucking the letter out of my hands. I let him, still stunned. He skimmed through it.

"Wood? How does he know --" he started, but took one look at the resentment on my face and stopped. "Come on. Don't get angry now." He wrapped an arm around me and I put my face into his shirt.

"AGGGHHH!" I yelled into his shoulder, which muffled the sound quite well.

"Atta girl, you're alright," he mumbled, and I could tell he was trying not to smile.

"It's just these two hells in my life are suddenly put together and it's twice as bad," I mumbled, still talking into his shirt. He sighed and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders.

"You'll be alright. You want me to ask Wood how they know each other, so you can at least clear that up?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"No, no…" I said, turning my face so I was at least audible. "Thanks mate, but I think I can talk to him myself. Thanks though, really." He nodded and let me go, handing me my letter and smiling at me, patting my back.

"It's not like they're engaged, Ana," he said, making me smile too.

"I know, I know," I said, shaking my head. "It's just Quidditch, Wood, my father…it's too insane sometimes." He nodded understandingly, and put his fingers under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Neither Wood nor your father are bad men, and Quidditch is not a bad sport," he said, "and I think you know that. For some reason that I cannot comprehend, you choose to ignore what you know and go with what you want to think." He was smiling, but sounded so serious it scared me a little.

"Who are you and what have you done with Fred?" I joked, and he chuckled.

"Just promise me you'll remember that, Adriana?"

"I will."

George nodded at us and tossed me the quaffle. I headed upstairs and Fred headed back to them. I needed some sleep.