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Hermione was the first to break the silence. She wiped away an errant tear and looked between the two boys.

“I think we might have made a mistake.”

Harry nodded, still shocked by what Buffy had just said. He’d thought his life had been strange. Until he was eleven, he’d thought himself to be a fairly normal child, and then he’d been told he was a wizard. That particular piece of news had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. But it sounded as though that same piece of news in Buffy’s life had nearly destroyed the girl.

“Should we…maybe go after her?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think she wants to be found,” Hermione said quietly.

Ron looked up at Hermione, his hands shaking. He was pale under the multitude of freckles that covered his face.

“I should probably apologise, hey?”

Both Harry and Hermione nodded in unison.

“I’ve never seen her upset like that before,” Hermione whispered.

“Yeah you have,” Harry whispered.

Hermione and Ron turned to look at him curiously. Harry moved towards Buffy’s side of the room and picked up the leather bound photo album that was still hidden under the bed. He turned to the page that held Buffy’s ‘parents’.

“Don’t you remember? When we asked what had happened to her parents, she could barely speak,” Harry said.

“That’s why she was so upset,” Hermione commented. “Cos her parents only loved her cos of magic. How horrible.”

Harry couldn’t even fathom how that discovery would have felt. He’d been told by so many different people that his parents had loved him. They’d loved him enough to die for him. His mother’s love for him had saved his life so many times, and his father’s best friends had assured the young boy that both James and Lily Potter would have done anything for their young son. He’d thought that he’d been hard done by, never having met his parents.

But to grow up in a loving household, only to have it yanked away from you seemed horribly cruel. To find out that you were actually a dark wizard’s daughter rather than the daughter to a loving set of parents would have been horrifying. And they’d just ripped her to shreds over who her parents were.

“We’re no better than Malfoy,” Harry mused quietly, more to himself, but both Ron and Hermione heard it.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked up at her, his eyes filling with pain and remorse.

“We judged her for who her parents were. We assumed we knew something about her just cos of who her father is,” Harry explained. “And the even worse thing is, she tried to tell me.”

Hermione looked at him in shock. “When?”

“After the Ball,” Harry replied. “We were sitting in the Common Room. She said she had to tell me something about her parents, but I knew she really didn’t want to tell me. So I told her it didn’t matter who her parents were. That I’d love her anyway.”

Hermione flinched involuntarily on Buffy’s behalf. No wonder she’d been so upset. Harry had promised to love her no matter what happened, but it seemed that on the very first test of trust, Harry had failed miserably.

They stood in silence, eventually sitting down, Harry sitting on the edge of Buffy’s bed, Hermione and Ron sitting on Hermione’s. Harry rested his feet near the trunk at the end of the bed and discovered he was stepping on a book of some sort. He bent down to pick it up, only to see it was a journal that looked exactly like Tom Riddle’s had, except there was no name embossed on the back cover. It was black leather with gold plated corners.

Feeling horrible for not respecting Buffy’s privacy, but filled with a desire to know as much about the small blonde girl as he could, he couldn’t help but flip the journal open, skimming through the pages until he found his own name.

I should be shot, he read. I cannot believe that I haven’t told Harry the truth about who I really am. I deserve to die by thousands of spier bites. I’m falling in love with him, and I can’t even bring myself to tell him the truth about my parents. I tried so hard not to let myself love him, but the more I tried, the more I fell for him. Ugh, you’d think I’d be over the whole ‘forbidden love’ thing. Angel much?

Angel? Harry stared at the word, as though willing it to make sense. It didn’t though. Who was Angel? And had Buffy loved him? Or her? Buffy had never ever mentioned anyone by the name of Angel, but then again, Buffy hadn’t mentioned a lot of things about herself.

Hermione finally looked over at Harry, curious as to what he was doing.

“Harry?”

The black haired boy looked up, wondering how things had become so complicated in so short a time. Three days ago, he’d been happier than he’d thought was possible. He was in love with a beautiful girl who loved him back, but everything had completely changed, and not for the better. She was the daughter of the man that Harry hated.

As a boy raised in a muggle school before he’d gone to Hogwarts, he knew a little about Shakespeare And he’d heard the tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet. Parents who hated each other, united by their children’s love for each other. Except, this time, Harry’s parents were dead, and the boy knew for a fact that there was no way that Voldemort could be redeemed.

“What’s that?”

He held up the leather bound journal for her to see. Her eyes narrowed and she sent him a quick glare.

“Should you really be reading that?”

“I couldn’t help it,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes, wondering whether she would ever trust him on her side of the room.

“So what does it say?”

“Just that she wished that she could have said something earlier. And that she hadn’t wanted to fall in love with me in the first place, and that it was a a bit too ‘Angel’ for her liking. Whoever that is.”

“Angel?” Hermione repeated.

He nodded and shrugged. “It doesn’t say who it is, just that she should be over the ‘forbidden love’ thing, and then she mentions someone called Angel.”

Hermione thought about it for a moment and then something almost forgotten crept back into her mind.

“She’s dreamt about someone called Angel before. She’s woken up calling his name,” Hermione said.

“And you didn’t think to tell us this before now?” Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She really couldn’t believe that her boyfriend was so dense at times.

“I asked her about him once. She just gave me this really pained look, and shook her head. I didn’t ask about him again. Whoever he was, whatever happened between them, it sounded kinda painful.”

Harry sighed tiredly, wondering whether or not his life would ever just be simple. Apparently not. He closed the journal and replaced it where it belonged, wishing that things could just be normal between them all again.

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