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Hey all! WOW! I dunno what to say, I got a lot of reviews this trip! I didn't know I could write, I just kinda did this as a boredom alleviation!

WriterLady1031: THANK YOU!
tawniemarie: THANK YOU!
HILARY: THANK YOU!
Remmie'sGirl: Thank you. Eh, tell Dukie hi for me.

I really appreciate all feedback, good or bad, and I really do like it when a reader speaks up! This story is about to get really wierd and disjointed. You have been warned.

What happens when daddy's girl gets insulted in front of him? Let's see, shall we?
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“Of ALL the reckless stunts to pull, Black!” Sirius Black and Severus Snape were arguing. Business as usual when you got the two of them together. “Thank God I was the one who found you, and not Lucius or God knows who else!”
“I was fine! I wasn’t followed. I made damn sure of that, and only those two girls and Harry saw me.”
“If Zabini was there, Nott wasn’t far away.”
“The boy who only spoke Latin? Honestly. I don’t think he knows.”
“HIS FATHER DOES, YOU IDIOT!” Snape was seething. “ONE LETTER HOME AND YOU’RE GOOD AS DEAD!”
“It’s okay, Severus. I’ll come and go as I please, just as I usually do, and they can’t have a reliable time to catch me.”
“You fool! Did you forget how quickly the Death Eaters can be here? All it takes is you being in one place for even five minutes!”
“Then why has it taken Voldemort so long to get around to killing Harry? If you look at their track record, the DE’s want a clear, safe shot. I won’t give them that.”
‘They’re getting more reckless.”
“The last act of a desperate man.”
“I don’t care if it’s the third act of Romeo and Juliet!” Snape spat. “You must be wary.”

Sirius Black had a lot on the human part of his mind as he walked to the forest that night. When had Severus Snape started caring about what happened to him? When had it become so important that Sirius survive? HE was a Death Eater, why didn’t he just finish Sirius off and claim the prize that was no doubt on Sirius’ head? Because, thought Sirius, I’m too important to Dumbledore, and no matter how much he hates it, Slimeball Sevvie has to do what Dumbledore says. For the good of the Order, and also, for Harry’s own good. An unexpected pang of guilt hit Sirius. James. We could have protected him better than we did. I should have done it. Albus should have, even. Anyone but Peter. That was my fault. My bad. How could I have not seen it? Because he was powerless? There was no way Voldemort would have accepted him on his own? But the connection to the Potters . . . there was what got Peter in. He was close to Lily and James, a power all in itself. Sirius shoved the guilt back. He couldn’t take it. Not right now. Guilt could lead to apathy, and apathy meant death, by Fudge’s hand or Voldemort’s. But Sirius had to admit, a quick spell would be better than going crazy in the prison of his own tortured psyche.

Sammy lay in bed that night, turning over and over. Blaize was a lovely girl, but she snored. Nobody’s perfect. Sammy turned over again. Everybody has flaws . . . She reminded herself. Everyone except her nighttime lover. Even the scar on his forehead was perfect. No. . . Illogical! EVERYONE has flaws. But oh . . . he has some charming ones . . . Sammy smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

*****Sammy ran across the field in her dream, knowing where he would be, knowing where she would see her ebony-haired paramour . . . but wait! What was that? She heard a girl’s giggle in the glen up ahead. That wasn’t right . . . she snuck up carefully. There was her lover, holding a curvaceous fire-haired girl, perhaps a year his junior, . . . .and he was smiling at this ruddy temptress! Sammy tried to will herself awake, but to no avail. He breathed her name. “Ginny.” She replied, just as breathily.
“Yes, my boyfriend?” NO! He was taken? NO NO NO NO NO! Sammy turned from the scene and ran to a shallow reflecting pool. As her tears rippled the surface, she wondered how anyone would ever love her: all angles, small-breasted, with only the barest curves where there should have been round parts? She got up, to wander alone, amid the bluebells and daisies.*****

She spent the rest of the week in misery, and spent her first weekend at Hogwarts with her father, who had been quick to notice her change in mood. “What’s wrong? Has Malfoy hurt you again?” Sammy shook her head sadly.
“Daddy, do you think . . . take a few seconds and forget I’m your daughter, and imagine you were one of my mates, here . . . do you think I’m pretty?” Severus Snape sighed with relief.
“I believe you’re a very attractive young woman.”
“I look like a boy.”
“Be reasonable, Sam. You have been starved most of your life.”
“I’m FEMALE, damn it!” She flushed, having raised her voice. “I should at least have breasts.”
“Your breasts are cute.”
“WHAT breasts? I can go around without a bra!”
“Many women, bustier than even Granger, do so.” That was a joke between them. Granger had spent her summer growing. Not so much up and down as front to back. Weasley often had a laugh when young men asked her out. He knew that Granger loved him, and he loved her. BEFORE she had become a fashion plate.
“At least with Blaize, you can tell the front from the back!” Here Severus laid his pen down.
“Draco Malfoy, the most finicky creature on the planet, thought you were beautiful. You were, even in the oppression of Malfoy Manor, very healthily shapely. Very toned, from working your entire life. I think you are beautiful, despite the fact that you have yet to grow what you consider an appropriate bust. Who is it that you wish to think you so gorgeous?”

Sammy hated it when her father got straight to the point like that. She also had no answer for him. Well, she did, but bollocks if she was going to tell him that. It was as though she had just been complaining to complain again, and her father was giving her that expectant look. “Well?” Sammy blushed at the thought of Harry.
“No one you should concern yourself about.” That wasn’t quite a lie. “I just have noticed that I don’t really look like most of the girls in my classes.”
“No, you don’t.” There was the note of pride that Sammy hated. She hated that her father thought she was the most stunning creature on the planet, and she hated that he would never think otherwise.
“Well, I have homework to do, so I’ll talk to you later.” Severus sat up a bit straighter.
“What subject?” Sammy knew her father’s weaknesses, and for once, was glad.
“Divination.”

Samara was frustrated. It was potions class, a few days later, and Harry was chittering about Quidditch to his friends. She could have ignored him, but Seamus insisted on sitting right behind him. And there was no way on God’s or the Goddess’ green earth that should would take Malfoy for a potions partner. “So, anyway, how do you think you’ll do against Slytherin this year?”
“Well, I can’t say. Malfoy has gotten better. I think I’ll just hope for the best, try my hardest, and see what happens.” He ran his hand through his hair in that endearing way. Sammy saw the opportunity she’d been looking for.
“Well, if that is your attitude, Potter, ou’t y’t you be paying attention to that overboiling potion?” Harry’s head jerked around, and he yipped.
“Bloody hell!” He quickly tired to salvage the potion, but to no avail. Sammy chuckled softly.
“Well, you can’t win them all.”

“You can’t win them all!” Harry was furious. “Stupid tart! Probably knew the potion was beyond saving!” Seamus was fighting his Irish temper down his throat. Were he at home, he’d have a pint of Guinness, and he’d be right as rain. But he was forced to actually control his temper, rather than discussing it over drink as was always good enough for his forefathers. Especially since this was a Snape, who had assisted his ancestors (Yes, it was the shame of his family that he was Scotch-Irish,) in the Roman Invasion. Not to mention she had an ass he could most likely bounce sickles off of. “Are you listening, Seamus?” Seamus decided that under the circumstances, he would lie.
“Yes, Harry, every word.” He should not have said it so properly, perhaps?
“You probably haven’t heard a word I said.”
“Have so. You think she’s a stupid tart who probably knew the potion was beyond saving.” Harry blinked rapidly. “Why don’t the two of you just discuss it over a pint?”
“Besides the fact that we’re both underage?” Seamus scoffed at Harry’s asinine response.
“She’s fond of brandy. What does that tell you?”
“She’s a drunk.” Dean cut in.
“Oi!” Seamus cried indignantly. “Look at the pot calling the kettle black!”
“Sorry, Sea.” Everyone knew that both Sea and Dean appreciated the weekend piss-up. “Anyway, at least she has taste, better brandy than, oh, Irish whiskey.”
“Oi, that’s it, you.” Seamus tackled Dean, landing a blow square in the solar plexus. Harry rolled his eyes. Typical.

“¡Papá!” Samara was screaming at her father in Spanish. Not a good sign. Then again, Severus Snape answering in French was not a good omen, either. “¡Usted no está siendo justo!”
“Je ne m'inquiète pas de 'juste'! C'est un chien dégoûtant !” His foot was in the door. So was hers.
“¿Un perro distgusto? Se adoro, papá.”
“Non.”
“¡BUEY!”
“PETIT CHEVAL!”
“¡Bola de la grasa!” Was it Snape or did the dog in question chuckle from its place at the hearth?
“Domestique.”
“Ay . . . estuvó bajo.”
“Était ainsi ‘boule de graisse’, mon enfant.”
“¡Ay!” Samara hit on something. “What if I kept him in my dormitory?”
“Fine. Just as long as he is nowhere near me.” Snape turned on his heel. Samara whooped with joy and patted her thigh.
“Come on, Snuf.” The dog walked past Snape’s turned back.

Sirius was highly enjoying all the attention the Slytherin Seventh year girls were giving him. He was being brushed, combed, and rubbed behind the ears. Bliss. The only thing to make this better was if he was human and getting all this attention. Oh, well. He’d rather have the cake than eat it at this juncture. He purred softly, as some dogs do, and sat still while the girls oohed and ahhed over his shiny black fur and ‘pretty little star.’ This was nice. “He’s so pretty, Sam! You’re so lucky your dad’s a teacher.”
“Dad was not happy about the idea. He wanted me to destroy Snuffles!” She hugged him protectively. “But I won’t. I love you too much!” Blaize chuckled and spoke next.
“Of course, he always looks a million times better when he’s clean.” Pansy looked at Snuffles lovingly.
“But what about his necessaries? Like going to the loo?”
“I’ll let him out each night, and he’ll be on the grounds or in the forest during the day.” Samara stated simply. “He should be fine.” Sirius had to mentally chuckle. This girl was stuck on him. He had to wonder what would happen if he revealed his true nature to her.

His resolve was tested more and more over the next few weeks. Now that Sammy was getting an actual diet, she was starting to round out. The breasts she had complained about not having over the past month were starting to blossom beautifully, much to the joy of a certain Irishman. Seamus was getting closer to her each day, both emotionally and physically. He was very surprised when Sammy politely asked him to scoot over a few inches, rather than just pushing him away. “Sorry, Colleen. I just wanted to be close to you.” Seamus blushed, realizing what he just said. Sammy looked at him in a way he’d never seen before. She looked hurt, like something he said had been absolutely foul.
“Sea, I have to tell you something.” Seamus nodded.
“I’m here.” Sammy looked nervously around.
“Not now. After dinner?” Seamus nodded again. “Thank you.” She went back to her ‘Phoenix’ notes.

After picking through his stew, Seamus went to wait at the Marble Staircase, from which he could see Sammy if she left the Great Hall after he did. She was waiting for him. “I took dinner in father’s apartments.” She smiled. “Shall we?” She held out a hand. Seamus took it, surprised at how warm she was. They walked out to the lake, round a bit to Hagrid’s hut, then back to the lake shore.

“I was once a servant, Seamus.” Seamus’ head jerked up, for she had been quiet, and spoke rather suddenly, though she was speaking quietly. “I was left at the house of one of my father’s good friends, and I was supposed to be raised as a daughter. Instead, I was brought up by a house-elf, and I never played as a child. I worked. There was always silver to polish or a mirror to clean.” Here she started silently weeping. “I was scrubbing the ballroom floor when he came for me. He took me from my chores, and bade me follow him. I was lead to his chambers.” She was gripping his hand tighter, and he stroked it with a thumb as she continued. “He raped me.”

Seamus was filled with rage. How dare someone desecrate her? How dare someone touch her in a way that wasn’t tender? How dare they? “Samara . . .” He whispered. “I wish I’d been there. I’d have killed them. How dare they?” He pulled her to him. “How dare they?!” He ran a hand over her hairline where it framed her face. “I could never hurt you.” Sammy was stunned. His heart was pounding through his chest, and she could feel it on her hand. He brought it to his lips, brushing the fingers lightly. “If you were my girl . . . you’d never cry for anything. Except maybe for happiness.” His eyes begged her for an acceptance as the wind ran through his hair and hers, mixing sandy-blonde and raven-black. Sammy shook her head to clear it, and Seamus’ face fell.
“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I need to . . . think.” A tear fell down Seamus’ cheek. She smiled, and stepped into his embrace. “Yes. I’ll be your girl.” For the first time in her life, she kissed a boy, and felt absolutely beautiful.

Months passed, bringing Christmas to Hogwarts. The snow had fallen in fat flakes, leaving a soft powder all over the world of the castle. Snuffles often could be found snapping at the snowdrifts and spraying the Slytherin Seventh Years with snow. Sammy laughed as Snuffles sprayed Blaize, Ronan, and she. “Silly puppy!” She dove at him, and the two of them rolled around a bit before Snuffles nipped her lightly and pinned her. “Okay, you win, let me up!” She pushed against his chest. Snuffles backed up, and yipped at her. Sammy sat up, and lobbed a handful of snow at him. “Bully.” The courtyard was next to deserted, so she didn’t feel self-conscious calling a dog names. Ronan and Blaize hadn’t even noticed the exchange. They were staring at each other like they didn’t know who the other was. Little did Sammy know it was because of what Ronan had just said. In English.

“I’m so happy it’s the hols.” Blaize chittered. She’d never liked the cold. “It feels like a new clean start every time it snows. Like you can tell anyone anything.”
“Yes.” Ronan replied. He was looking at Blaize.
“What did you say?” Blaize looked at him.
“Yes.” Blaize was stunned. “That’s not all I have to say.” He sighed. “Might as well be out with it.”
“Go on.” Blaize looked him in the eye, not daring to hope.
“I love you.” He kissed her quickly, and the two of them stood, staring, with a ‘now what?’ look on their faces.

“What’s up with them?” Sammy asked no one in particular. She shivered at the voice that answered her.
“Nott just snogged Zabini! She’s probably thinking of where to hit him!” It was Malfoy, mocking Blaize. NOT a good move for a man who had already been on the top of Sammy’s shit list. Sammy whirled around, standing, and punched Draco Malfoy dead in the face. He went down easily enough, but now she had Crabbe and Goyle to deal with, and she had a funny feeling she wasn’t going to be able to smile her way out of this one.

They circled her carefully, like vultures, as Snuffles growled at them. Draco’s most likely broken nose was seeping onto the snow, and Sammy had another feeling: that she would soon be in the same state. Why didn’t Blaize go fetch a Professor?! Sammy stole a glance over at where she was. Oh. She was busy swapping saliva with Ronan, apntlyntly none too angry at his sudden confession. So this was Sammy’s fight. A rumbling at her knee reminded her that she had an ally. As Crabbe cracked his knuckles threateningly, she reached down to pat Snuffles’ head. What happened next was something she couldn’t understand: There wasn’t fur there, or anything. A split second later, she got a handful of cloth, and Goyle muttered something that was either a Muggle Mexican fast food chain, or ‘bloody hell’. Crabbe half-dashed, half-lumbered away, and so did Goyle. “Well, that serves them right!” A voice behind her chuckled. Sammy turned. There stood a very attractive, but very scruffy-looking, man. She did what only seemed reasonable: she fainted.

Sammy came to in her father’s den, and he was yelling at the man she had seen. “DAMN IT, BLACK, HAVE YOU NO COMMON SENSE?”
“Please, those boys will probably blame it on bad mushrooms or something.”
“IMBECILES THEY MAY BE, BUT THEY HAVE FRIENDS WHO AREN’T!” Who was her father’s source? Sammy knew Crabbe and Goyle, and Malfoy was the closest they had to a friend.
“Harry’s written me about these guys. They’re not about to win the ‘Most Popular’ award.” The man smiled. “Ah, allo, allo, allo! Look who’s conscious!” He smile broadened as Sammy looked at him blearily. “Good morning, Sunshine.”
“WILL YOU KINDLY STICK TO THE POINT, MAN?!!” Severus was getting tired of Black’s tendency to de-rail conversation.
“Mm . . . Daddy?” Sammy shook her head. “Why are you so put out?” Black’s eyes widened at the tone Severus took with his daughter. It was soft, almost loving. Most definitely simpering.
“Daddy’s only about to strangle him to get him to stop causing trouble.” Sammy looked around.
“Snuffles?” She whistled for her pet. “Snuf, commere, boy!” Her look darkened and she turned what Black supposed was the hereditary Snape Glare on him. “Where’s. Snuffles.”
“Right here!” Severus waved at Black, “Rather than in prison, where at least he doesn’t go revealing himself to students who are connected with people who could get him killed!!” Sammy growled at her father, and repeated the question.
“WHERE. IS. MY. DOG. DADDY?!!” With a little more volume.
“HERE! FOR THE LOVE OF THE MOTHER, HE’S STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU!”

Sirius chuckled at Severus’ frustration, and then proceeded to explain. “I’m an animagus, Samara.” He smiled at her, and then remembered what he’d said to Lily. “I’m sorry for lying to you. I had to.” He sighed, and his face fell. “I’m wanted for murder, you see. I escaped from Azkaban, which is ssedlsedly impossible for a guilty prisoner.”
“IS impossible for a guilty prisoner.” Severus put in, put out.
“So the fact that I was innocent helped me escape. So what, Snake-Eyes?” Sirius snapped at him.
“So . . . you’re my dog?” Samara blinked, and Sirius nodded. What she said next cut him more deeply than he would have thought possible, or preferred, at least. “Why didn’t you trust me?”
“Because, my dear girl,” Severus explained. Sirius was quick to notice that his fuse was imminently longer with this girl than with even his pet, Malfoy. “he’s not supposed to trust anyone. Not here, when a word to either side gets him killed.”
“Who did you kill? The minister?” Sirius was stung once again by this girl’s innocence. He wrapped his arms around his chest and stared at the fire.

Lily and James’ memory flashed before him in the flames, playing out like a pathetic nickelodeon short. They were so much in love, that their son knew not want for his first year of life. Even when they went into hiding, Harry was spoiled beyond all belief. Love had led them to where they were, and Love was leading their son to boyhood. He had just started talking when they were killed, and Sirius remembered his frantic search at the pile of rubble that had been Lily and James’ house. He’d torn through the pile, moving rocks he didn’t know he could move, all his magic forgotten in his desperation. There! A tuft of black hair! He turned over what was an heirloom oak bookshelf, and there lay his best friend.

James was noble even in death. He looked like his face had been carved by an angel, and his body lay as though he’d been placed there. Such peace in the midst of combat was James’ forte, ‘Confusion to the Enemy’ his motto. Sirius looked for Lily, calling out in case she had somehow survived. There, under what was the downstairs powder room, was Lily. She looked worse, and Sirius suspected that she had been in Harry’s nursery, which was really a large cupboard o ff of Lily and James’ bathroom. And there, not five feet away, was Harry. Sirius rushed over to his Godson, and miracle of miracles, he was ALIVE!

Sirius cradled the tiny wailing form, trying to soothe him. Harry kept saying “Mummy. Mummy,” almost as if he grasped what he had seen that night. He looked up at Sirius, and yanked a piece of Sirius’ considerable maneafooafoo.”
“It’s okay, Harry. You’re going to come with me now.” Sirius traced the ugly cut on Harry’s forehead. “Pafoo will look after you.” Sirius heard heavy footsteps on the rubble, and turned. There stood Hagrid, a good friend of the Potters’, and anyone else that had attended Hogwarts in the past fifty years.
“I have to take Harry, Sirius.” Hagrid explained. “Dumbledore’s orders.” Sirius gasped, and finally the dam of tears he’d been hiding broke.
“Please,sayssays in the will he’s to come to me. Let me have him.”
“Dumbledore said I’m to come and fetch him, and bring him to Snape Manor immediately.”
“Snape? That git couldn’t protect him! How do you know the minute you put Harry in his arms, he won’t finish what Voldemort started?!” Hagrid opened his mouth to reply, but the man in question answered.

“Because I have no reason to.” Snape stood, examining Lily’s body. “Dead.” Sirius stood, and ran over to James, beating Severus by a good ten feet.
“Don’t you touch him! Haven’t you done enough?!” Harry pulled on James’ robes from where Sirius knelt over his father’s corpse.
“Daddy?”
“Come now, give me the boy.” Snape said quietly.
“Over my dead body!” Sirius snapped. Harry had maneuvered his way out of Sirius’ arms, and onto his father’s chest. It was a cruel sense of Irony Fate had this night. Sirius reached out for Harry, but Snape was quicker.
“Do be reasonable. He’ll be safe in Camarthen.” Snape, surprisingly enough, knew how to hold and coddle a child. It was an awful image for Sirius to see Harry nuzzling into Snape’s chest and falling asleep. “Poor thing. Tired?” Sirius was further shocked. He also knew how to comfort. “I don’t blame you for that. Sam will enjoy the crib-mate.”
“Who’s Sam, then?” Hagrid spoke up. “Yer son?”
“My daughter.” Sirius had a mad image of a boy who looked like James holding a female version of Snape. It was disgusting.
“Hang on a bloody tic! Who would have a child with you?” Sirius sniped at Snape.
“None of your bloody business. Anyway, I believe Dumbledore will agree with me. He’ll be safe at the old house with my wife and child, and Everyone knows that Snape Manor is in Yorkshire, or Devon.” It was a perfect false trail, Sirius had to give him that.

It was Hagrid who flew off on Sirius’ motorcycle to take Harry to Dumbledore, though. Severus had to wait before his watch over the boy began. He popped off shortly after Hagrid left, and Sirius went looking for Peter.

“Peter . . .” Sirius’ temper flared as he growled the name. PETER had betrayed the Potters. PETER had been the Secret-Keeper. PETER had killed James. Voldemort, though few knew it, detested killing men. It was pointless, as he saw things. It did not keep with the skewed balance he kept. He let his followers handle James, and Peter made damn sure James knew he had been sold out. Voldemort had killed Lily, then, for good measure, had hexed James’ body to never decompose. To never become part of the Earth James so loved. If the bodies were exhumed today, Lily would be bones, but James would look freshly dead. It was worse than killing him, where James was concerned, and Sirius hoped there was a dark and hot corner of Hell reserved for Voldemort.

“There is something you should know, Samara.” Sirius jerked at the almost sorrowful tone to Snape’s voice. “Your mother died the night after the Potters did.” Sammy sniffled, sensing the pain that was about to invade her father. “They say that Childbed Fever is dead in civilized countries, but there are some that still contract it. Your mother did, and was subject to it for nearly two years.” Snape gulped as he went on. “We kept watch over Harry before he was moved to the Dursleys. Your mother was so happy that day, so healthy, that I never imagined the fever would be as dangerous as it proved to be.” He smiled softly. “She was so happy to see you have a crib-mate. The two of you got along famously, like a brother and sister. Not once did either of you cry. I should know. I never left the crib’s side.”
“So that’s how I know him.” Sammy smiled.
“Beg pardon?”
“I knew him when I first saw him at Gringotts. I knew that face.” She crinkled her nose. “All but those damned ugly glasses.” It was Sirius’ turn to smile.
“James wore BC’s too. He said that it was cute later in life. Of course, once he got out of school, he switched to wire-rims.” He laughed. “Except his weren’t the round ones. He had those square ones, you know, like our dads wore?” Sammy laughed, knowing what he meant. “To answer your earlier question, I didn’t kill anyone. I’m wanted for the murder of Peter Pettigrew-”
“Also known as Wormtail-” Snape put in.
“And about thirteen-”
“Twelve-”
“-Witnesses . . .” Sirius glared at Snape. “and for the Betrayal of Lily and James Potter, Esquire.”

“Question?” Sammy volunteered. “Why is it you say you didn’t kill anyone, yet you are wanted for such?”
“Well, Wormtail blew the spell, killed the witnesses, and transformed-”
“He was also an Animagus, as our esteemed guest left out.” Sirius was getting really tired of Snapes interruptions.
“As I was just about to say . . . and slipped down a manhole into the sewers. I just thought it was so damned ironic, so I stood there and laughed. I’d been through a lot, and I think I snapped a little that night.” Sirius sighed. “They put me in Azkaban without a trial, without a hearing, or without even so much as a ‘by-your-leave, Mr. Black!’ Bloody hell!” He sat down.
“So all those times I gave you baths, and brushed you . . .?”
“Twisted, isn’t he?” Snape smiled.
“OI! I have a part to live up to! You honestly think I enjoyed a minute of it? Please! I like to be able to tell the difference between my lover an myself thank you very mu-” He was cut off by a slamming door. “-ch. Oh, Bugger. Was she crying?” Sirius put a hand over his eyes.
“Goddess help you if she is!” Snape hauled him to his feet. “I swear, Black, I will break a bone for every tear I find, if you’ve hurt her, God help me!” Sirius knew better than to argue with Snape when he invoked both deities. He simply nodded.

Samara left the room in a fury of tears, but her crying soon stopped. Harry Potter? The boy she knew, the boy she had fantasized about, was Harry Potter? And Snuffles was Sirius Black? What next? Her father was really a woman? Her head started spinning. This wasn’t right. Something wasn’t clicking here . . . what was it? She reached deep into her memory, and tried to pull out what was nagging. Something was secret here, something she knew was important. Something she carried could keep or kill Harry Potter. She knew something, was able to do something that was important . . . but what? She ran through every unusual thing that had happened to her. Then it came to her, like a brick to the base of her skull. The glitter. The glitter in her eyes that she so loved. The glitter she had lost by Draco Malfoy’s hand. What was that? Was it her innocence? Was it important that she stay a virgin until whatever had happened, and Malfoy had taken away all that? Was that it? ~Never let her existence become known to Voldemort.~ Why couldn’t he know of her existence? What did she carry that was so important? And had it been what Draco Malfoy had stolen?

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Well, is it? Who knows? (Besides me!)
Next chapter: It's WHO'S Kid? Ginny has a secret, and it's another twist for our lil plot!