A/N: if you saw that I published a random part from fourth year, my apologies😭. accidentally hit several buttons but at least now you know I have a lot written in advanced!!

I met my father after getting off the Hogwarts Express. I'd hardly slept a wink. I was starting to get a headache just from everything that I knew, and spent the train ride trying to write it all down in this year's journal. I was joined about midway through the ride by a blonde girl, who squinted at me funny as though something was amiss.

"Are you aware that you're infested with Nargles?" She asked me, to which I blinked at her several times in confusion. At my lack of response, she tutted and shook her head.

"Thought not — here," she produced a necklace from her pocket adorned with a cork, almost exactly like the one she was wearing around her own neck. "This'll do the trick. Go on, now."

I've heard of cursed necklaces before, but the girl seemed quite harmless. To humor her, I fastened the clasp around my neck. She seemed satisfied and sat back in the seat across from mine, rifling through her bag for a magazine which she proceeded to read upside down.

"Nargles are known to be mischievous, thieving little things." She explained a few minutes later. "I could sense them as I passed your compartment. They infest your ears and stir up all kinds of confusion, and they're tricky to get rid of since they're invisible."

"I see," I said sagely, absolutely bewildered. I swore I'd read almost all of the books on magical creatures, but a Nargle was not one I was familiar with.

My father had a youthful sort of glow about him when I arrived. This made me feel much better — I hadn't realized how much I missed him.

"You're practically glowing," I told him slyly. "Is it Angela?"

Much to my amusement, he blushed. "Would you believe me if I said I'm just happy to see my daughter again?"

"Perhaps," I teased. "Is she here yet?"

"She's coming over at six for dinner and she's going to stay while you're here for the holidays, if that's okay," he raised an eyebrow and picked up my trunk for me as we walked out of the station.

"That should be alright," I replied, suddenly feeling nervous. "Have you told her yet?"

He shook his head. "I wanted you to be there. I was going to tell her this week but she was acting rather strange when I mentioned you went to boarding school and had a pet owl." He frowned slightly again. "Maybe we'll wait until summer."

"Yes, we probably shouldn't push it," I said quickly. "But I expect her reaction won't be too dramatic. Seamus said his father came around within a few days when he first found out."

"If she's as incredible as you say, it won't be a problem."

"She's fantastic," he replied, grinning once again. "She's the sort of girl that I fancied in high school but never had the guts to ask out because she was out of my league."

"You are looking particularly youthful," I teased.

He made a face at me. "Do I usually not?"

"I'm not answering that," I replied. "You told her I had a pet owl?"

"I told her a lot about you," my father said sheepishly. "Having you as my daughter is a pretty big bragging point."

I snickered. "So is having you as my dad."

When we reached the car, I found my tiredness returning as I laid my head against the window. It was around eight in the morning when we finally got home and unloaded my things. I rather missed my room with the posters on my wall — perhaps I should take some back with me. I had a few for Sherlock Holmes as well as two for Nirvana, and a few for ABBA. I set Willow's cage on my windowsill and opened my window for her to fly out.

"I know you were stuck in there a long time," I told her. "I know it's a little bright for owls right now but feel free to fly around a bit."

She cooed at me, leaving her cage to stretch out her wings but then staying put on my windowsill. I set up Brutus' terrarium in the sunlight. Willow now knew not to eat him so I trusted them to coexist while I took a nice, long nap.

I waited for six to draw nearer and nearer until finally I heard a ring at the doorbell around 5:55. Well, this was it. Coming down the stairs, I found one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Her dark skin was smooth and shiny like melted chocolate, and she wore her hair styled in an Afro. Everything about her oozed class, but the way she smiled when she caught sight of me made me feel less intimidated.

She was dressed in a very soft looking, teal dress shirt and black, flowy pants. She accessorized with large silver earrings and a silver necklace. She kissed my father on the cheek, and inwardly I  fought my childish urge to wince.

"So good to see you again, Adam," said Angela brightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," I'd never seen my father look or act so much like a teenager before. He was dressed in a classic white shirt and blue jeans, and he'd put some product in his dark brown hair.

"Thank you so much for having me over," she said, smiling. I noted her teeth were brilliantly white and perfectly straight as she used the full force of it on me. "And you! I'm so glad to finally meet you. Come down here, let me have a look at you."

I came the rest of the way down, smiling awkwardly as I walked up to her. I didn't tower over her, necessarily, but she was about three inches shorter than me despite her mere presence filling up the entire room. She beamed up at me, her eyes almost sparkling with excitement. What my father had neglected to tell me was that Angela was a thousand kilowatts of electricity packed into one five foot four woman.

"Your dad's told me so much about you," she looked me up and down approvingly. "Heard you whoop arse at that boarding school you go to."

"You could say that," I laughed politely. "He's told me all about you too."

"All good things I hope," Angela winked. "Now, I'd love to hear more about you. What do they teach you at your school? Your father tells me you have outstanding marks."

"Er — why don't we take your things to the guest bedroom," my father said hastily, exchanging a nervous look with me. "I'm sure your bags are heavy; let's get them out of the way now instead of when we're all stuffed with dinner."

"Oh, yes, very smart," Angela said brightly, moving on rather quickly, "thank you, Adam."

We helped Angela unload her suitcase from the trunk of her BMW. I supposed being an actress would make one pretty wealthy, especially one as beautiful as Angela.

After getting her belongings settled, we prepared for dinner. Salmon and rice was one of my favorite meals because my father had always made it for me on special occasions.

"What are your friends like?" She asked me. "Other brilliant young girls like yourself?"

Though I'd been trying to keep the conversation away from school, I supposed talking about my friends wouldn't be too expository. After all, how was Angela to know they were magical?

"My best friend's name is Hermione. Safe to say she's the smartest person I know — she's taking every elective that they offer this year and she's still the top of the class in every one. I can trust her with anything."

"How wonderful. You have excellent taste," Angela was even eating her salmon with enthusiasm. "Any others?"

"My other friend, Ron," I added, "he's very funny. Short-tempered, and sometimes I question his intellect, but he's very loyal. The room is always very quiet without him. Him and Hermione are always arguing, see — Ron has a pet rat and Hermione has a pet cat. We're all in Gry — well, we all live together so it's a dangerous game. Harry and I mediate them."

"Harry?" Angela asked quizzically.

"Another friend." I replied, noticing a curious glimmer in her gaze. "Harry Potter. Very brave soul, though a little awkward." I laughed to myself. "I'm realizing now most of my closest friends are boys. There's Dean and Seamus too, Neville, Mal- er- Draco—"

"Oh, so you're friends now?" My father asked with a raised eyebrow. "I gathered as much from your letters. Surprising though, considering you gave him a black eye. "

I flushed scarlet. "Things happen."

"Oh, I've had my fair share of that," Angela waved it off. "Sometimes with boys you have to knock a little sense into them. I'm sure he deserved it."

The meal continued smoothly with idle conversation like this. Nothing that would give too much away, but enough to satisfy Angela. I was just starting to relax when her next question sent me reeling back to yesterday.

"How is everything with this Sirius Black situation?" Angela asked. "Some schools won't even let their children outside until they're dismissed, and parents have to come sign their children out individually."

Having neglected to mention the fact that he had broken into Hogwarts to my father, I instead decided to make something up on the spot.

"Well, he was spotted a few months ago in our area," I said. "So most people went home for the holidays."

"Isn't it odd that they still won't mention the prison he escaped from?" Angela remarked to my father, who looked at me nervously once again.

"I suppose they don't want the prison to get a bad reputation," he answered. Even he didn't fully understand the concept of Azkaban, despite his frequent phone calls with Mr. Weasley. I gave Ron our home number and his dad ends up using it to ask mine about Muggle appliances — in turn, my father asks him about the magical world.

"Still, terribly tragic what happened." Angela shook her head. "Hard to believe he killed two of his closest friends in one night."

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. Angela noticed this and set hers down, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

"I did," I said carefully. "How do you know about that?"

She shrugged with a smile. "Friends in the press. They tend to leave the more personal bits out of the paper — don't like to humanize convicts, you know."

But the gears were already turning, and I had a growing suspicion that Angela wasn't quite who she was pretending to be.

I woke up a few hours later to a stabbing feeling under my gut, like a fist made purely of nails was squeezing my uterus. I was very fatigued — it was around three in the morning — but couldn't go back to sleep. I got out of bed to go get a pain reliever from the medicine cabinet and in the darkness saw a dark splotch on my pristinely white sheets. I groaned.

Well, I supposed it was about time. All the other girls I lived with had their periods already, and now got them around the same time every month — I've come to call it hell week. It looked like I would be partaking next month too.

The first thing I did was change out of my now ruined underwear. I wrapped a whole wad of toilet paper around my new pair and slipped on another pair of pajama pants. I sneaked into the bathroom to try and wash some of the blood off.

It crossed my mind that this would be great training for someone who quite frequently gets blood on their clothes; serial killers, pathologists, etc. I'd have appreciated it a little more, however, if there wasn't the feeling of six knives assaulting my uterus.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped, startled. My dad, foggy-eyed and tired, was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I forgot that I'd left the door open.

"I got my period," I said bluntly, opening the medicine cabinet to grab some Advil. I took two and washed it down with tap water, being much too tired to get the filtered water downstairs.

"Ah, I see," my dad nodded. "Congratulations?"

"It's not much of a celebration — I think I'm getting a taste of the seventh circle of hell," I grimaced. "Hopefully the Advil will help."

"Need anything else?" He asked me. "I'm sure Angela wouldn't mind helping tomorrow morning."

"Are there pads in the house?" I asked. My father pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

"No, I don't think so," he frowned. "I should have figured it would come soon and got some. Sorry dear."

"It's alright," I replied. "Hopefully this toilet paper lasts me through the night."

It did, surprisingly enough. I woke to a knock at my door. I sat up with some effort, and the stabbing from earlier that morning still persisted.

"Come in," I said.

Angela entered with a glass of water. She was wearing a silk, blue button down sleep shirt with yellow piping and matching pants. I envied how comfortable she looked right now. She came over to the side of my bed, setting the glass down on my nightstand.

"Your father told me you were having some girl troubles," she said. I nodded. She smiled. "You know what they say — it's the mark of womanhood."

Her chipper tone regarding womanhood wasn't helping my cramps, but I did my best to smile and nod.

"You're cramping pretty badly, huh?" She asked. I nodded again. "Lucky for you I have just the thing," she pulled a small container out of her pocket and shook out one glittery pink pill. I examined it when she placed it in my palm— it didn't look like any other pill I'd ever seen before. It was a bright pepto bismol pink and had an iridescent sort of shimmer to it.

"What is this? Birth control?" I asked. Angela laughed.

"No, but it's the best period pill to exist," she handed me the glass encouragingly. I was surprised by the bubbly feeling spreading throughout the area of pain. Within a few moments it was gone.

"That was quick," I said, picking the glass back up to sip some more of the water. It felt almost like one of Madam Pomfrey's remedies.

"Yes. Just like magic, wouldn't you say?" She winked. I nearly choked on my water. Had she just read my mind?

I nodded slowly. "Yes. Quite miraculous."

"I'll leave you to it then," she smiled. "I'm really glad I could help. If you need anything let me know. It'll wear off in eight hours, so just tell me if you need another."

"I will, thank you," I nodded, glad that the pain was finally gone. Angela turned to leave when I remembered the toilet paper.

"Oh, could you wait a moment, Angela?" I asked. She turned back around. "Would you happen to have a pad?"

She smiled. "Of course, I'll go get some for you." She raised an eyebrow with concern. "What have you been doing this whole time?"

I shrugged. "Suffering." When she didn't answer, I added, "toilet paper."

"Oh dear," she blinked, biting back a smile. "I'll be right back, then."

She returned with far more pads than I'd probably need for the day and a promise to come with me to buy some later. Before she could leave, I blurted, "Angela, do you believe in magic?"

Much to my surprise, a slow, mischievous grin began to spread across her face. "I thought you would never ask."

After waking my father and shuffling around some furniture in the living room, my father and I listened intently to Angela as she told us her story.

"I was afraid to tell you the truth, thinking that you'd be hearing all of this for the first time," she admitted sheepishly to my father. "I didn't realize until you started talking about Lila's unique school that perhaps you were in the same situation."

"It's alright," my father replied. "A huge relief, honestly."

"I went to Hogwarts myself, as a Ravenclaw. The Potters were family friends, which is why I was so interested that you'd befriended Harry. James was something like a big brother to me, though I was very good friends with the whole lot of them — James, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black." She raised an eyebrow at me, "did you know that they were best friends? Inseparable, almost."

"Very surprising, considering everything that happened afterward," I agreed.

"Yes, extremely surprising," Angela nodded. "I could barely believe it when I heard about it. Are you familiar with the Fidelius Charm?"

"I am now," I told her. "The means by which Black betrayed the Potters."

"The widely accepted explanation, yes," she agreed, a sparkle in her eye. "I was going to be Secret-Keeper myself, but Dumbledore said I was far too traceable, which wasn't at all incorrect. Still, Sirius was the last person I expected to betray them. He was mischievous, certainly, but a loyal, good-hearted friend." Angela frowned and shook her head. "It was always their friendship above anything else — girls, grades, the like. They were always willing to take the fall for one another."

"After Hogwarts, we all joined the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore's organization of the most talented witches and wizards to take down the Dark Lord," Angela explained. "Though soon, after our ambushes were thwarted on numerous occasions, it was largely suspected there was a spy among our numbers. Even so, not once did I suspect Sirius Black."

"I'd considered Remus, as much as it pains me to do so." A troubled look crossed her expression. "He was always very shifty, and often disappeared for days at a time with no explanation."

"That's not because he was working for Voldemort," I told her. Angela winced. I forgot that people didn't like hearing his name. "Sorry."

"Bold of you to say his name," Angela remarked. I shook my head.

"I always do," I told her, "but that's another story. Lupin's a good man. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts and he's the best teacher of that class I've ever had." I cleared my throat. "But his absences were probably because of his lycanthropy."

Angela took this in, looking disbelieving, then thoughtful, then eased. "I see," she said. "Well, believe it or not, that does make me feel better. I rather liked Remus."

"Angela?" I asked after a while. "Did you know my mother?"

"Emilie Abbott," Angela smiled softly at my father. "She was in Gryffindor as well, though I didn't know her well. I'm not sure anyone did. She was quite mysterious — she mostly kept to herself and kept an odd group of friends. I'd never known anyone except for her to be good friends with both Sirius and Regulus Black." She chuckled at her own private joke.

"I saw her in the library just about every time I passed it — she had a fondness for books. She had a mischievous streak and a curiosity for danger, always pushing to see just how far she could go. She was a Prefect and was very pretty, caught me out after curfew loads of times but always let me off with docked points instead of detention." She smiled nostalgically and patted my father on the hand. "I'll be happy to let you know if I can remember anything else."

"Thank you," my father smiled in return, a faraway look in his eye. "That really means a lot. When I first found out she wasn't truly, well, like me, I didn't know what else had been a lie." He swallowed. "I understand that she had to, to protect me and Lila, but it's still difficult to reconcile. Yet with what you've just told us, she sounds exactly like the woman I fell in love with when I was twenty. So thank you."

"Of course, I understand it's not easy," Angela didn't seem envious of my mother at all, only perhaps sorrowful. "What is this, then, of having to protect the two of you? From what I know, she disappeared without a trace."

I looked to my father. "It's a long story.

I ended up telling it, though the abridged version I told by the fire ended up expanding into all two and a half years worth of my Hogwarts adventures over the next few days. Every time I would recall something I'd make sure to let Angela know. At first, she'd been proficiently stunned by each detail, but then she must have