A/N : I wrote this chapter a while back and despite the long time frame, I didn't get this beta-ed - sorry!

Chapter Two

School was a bore and Anya found herself trudging through the castle by herself for the first few weeks at Hogwarts. Her snappy comments during the Sorting had cost her the friendship of not only the first year Ravenclaws but also from the older students. She hadn't minded the silent treatment though; she found it refreshing to be left alone with her thoughts.

Walking on the grassy shoulder of the path, Anya plucked a small flower and crushed it in between her chubby fingers, taking in the sweet aroma. It was early September yet, but the Scottish air was chilly.

"Well, well, well," drawled a voice from behind her. "If it isn't Ms Volkova. Alone again are you? And what's this?" The boy, a First Year Ravenclaw she knew as Nanthakumar Patil, grabbed a hold of the books Anya clutched. "A History of Magic, eh? Fancy that. It's our next class isn't it? Say, Greg, didn't you say you left yours in the room? I'm sure Anya wouldn't mind lending you hers. Would you, Anya?"

"Give it back," Anya snapped. She tried to snatch it back but he was taller than her and had longer arms. "Give it back, Patil." Anya knew that it was futile to try and seize it back from him, but she kept trying, ignoring the laughter that broke out among the boys.

"Fine, take it." Robin held out the book in his hands, taunting her. Anya studied his face for a moment and then reached out to take the textbook from his hands only to have him throw it over her head to Gregory Mallory. Out of the corner of her eyes, Anya saw Kit Bebbington, the tallest of them all, shifting his weight uncomfortably behind the rest of them.

"Err...maybe we should just go," said Kit. "Just give her the book back."

"She thinks she's better than us, Kit," complained Robin, looking at the gangly redhead quizzically. When he fixed his gaze back on Anya, his dark blue eyes were blazing. "You heard what she said. We're all a bunch of pompous arses, according to her. Well, if you think your Lyceum is so much better, why aren't you there instead of here?"

The plump brunette looked at him pointedly. Her grey eyes were shady with controlled fury. "The only reason I'm here," she began, lips quivering with anger, "is because my dad died last month and the only living relative I have are in England." Taking their silence into her advantage, Anya swung about and grabbed hold of the textbook in Gregory's chunky fingers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have classes to attend." She walked in a self-aggrandizing way past a flock of girls she recognized as her room mates. Stupid, stupid boys! She ranted in her head.

Watching the scene before her, Adele Reed glared at the Ravenclaw boys. "Why were you lot picking on her?" The boys were studying the green grass just a bit too closely. "Go on then, why were you bullying her?"

"She said Hogwarts was stupid, that's why!" cried Robin as he returned the glare.

"Yeah!" Gregory seconded. "I can't stand people who've got a superiority complex."

If there was anything in this world Anya could always turn to, it was books. When she was younger, she had always read herself bedtime stories at night, to keep from falling asleep as she waited up for her father to come back from the hospital where he worked. Her first book, a pop-up book of The Gigantic Turnip, could still be found in the depths of her bookshelves.

There had been little magic as she grew up. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father was a highly respected neurosurgeon, leaving Anya at home with her nanny Baba Ina most of the time. There was love in the household though, Anya remembered, smiling as she fingered the picture frame in her hand. It was the only magical photograph of her parents that she knew of. Father had been wary of everything magical and all too eager to whisk away her mother far from the Wizarding World. When she died, Dr Lev Ivanovich had been devastated but he raised his daughter as best he could. Their home had been grand – lavishly decorated with the finest antique furniture that were as uncomfortable as they were beautiful and fresh flowers from the nearby Srednoi Market. The only time Anya came into contact with anything magical were the two weeks she spent with Aunt Ekaterina and her family during summer and even that came with a great many protocols. Although Apparition rules were not as strict as the ones set for Muggles, there was always a lot of paperwork to be sent back and forth to the Ministry beforehand.

And then she had gotten her letter. Anya's smile grew wider as she picked up another photograph. It was her group of friends in The Lyceum after their mid-terms last year. Katya, Masha and Olga. Right before the accident.

She had been in class when it happened. It was Common Spells – Charms as they called it here, Anya corrected with a grimace. Professor Izutkin had only started to teach them the proper wand movements needed for a duplication spell but they had been interrupted by the Headmaster, Professor Gregorev.

Anya remembered that she watched the hushed exchange between them curiously and when Professor Gregorev beckoned her to come, the words that he spoke did not take her by surprise, although her reaction to it did. There was a look in his eye that foretold the news. She cried for a week.

"Anya," a crisp, female voice said, breaking her out of her daydream. "If you don't get a move on, you'll be late for History of Magic." Long blonde hair swished as Adele whirled on her feet and strode out the door.

With a sigh, Anya took her parchments and textbook and followed suit.

"You again," Sirius Black said distastefully, as if he had just bit something particularly bitter. There were few seats left in the classroom and the only row left completely empty was the one that Anya Volkova had chosen – the second row. Sirius wasn't blind, he had noticed how even Ravenclaws avoided her like the plague.

"Me again," she agreed in a bored tone of voice. Anya did not even lift her head from the thick novel on the table to glance at him. It wasn't disinterest that kept her from glancing his way – she wasn't blind and could see that he was a very good-looking boy. Maybe the best she'd seen in all her life. She'd even say that he was better looking than Sergei, the Head of Class in Lyceum's 4th Grade. Anya didn't look at him because every time she did, she would want to wring his head and toss him on the floor like a sack of potatoes. What a curse to be born Russian and fat, she thought, feeling annoyed.

"Mind if we sit here?" It was another boy who had spoken. A bespectacled boy with unbelievably messy black hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. He wore a smooth smile on his face.

She sighed noisily. "If you insist."

"I told you she was rude," the brick wall muttered to his friend, Specs. He sat down next to her but was careful not to even brush his robes against hers. Sirius had all but forgotten the night that he had first met the fleshy Russian girl – until he saw her again a few weeks ago during the Sorting. Her grey eyes had caught his in the Great Hall and he had felt a rush of remorse. Don't be daft, Sirius, he had scolded himself as he glared into his plate, what do you have to be sorry for? Father said Blacks don't have to be sorry for anything. We're practically nobles after all. With that, he nodded to himself and continued to look glum for the remainder of the night.

"She can hear you, mate." Specs replied in equally low tones. Sirius mumbled something inaudible to which Specs snorted. Then, he cleared his throat loudly and said, "I'm James. James Potter."

Anya looked up for the first time, meeting James' hazel eyes. "I'm Anya Volkova." She shook his extended hand formally and smiled. "Nice to meet you." She noted his surprised expression with great interest. He must be astonished I didn't turn into a chimaera and bite his head off, she thought sarcastically.

"Likewise," he said affably, returning the smile with his own easy grin. His gaze drifted to the novel on her table – The Splinching of Jubbly Bongos and James crinkled his nose. "What's that you're reading?" Anya held up the book with one hand, waiting for his reaction. "But that's a Muggle book," James said slowly, as if explaining this to a child.

"Really? What a revelation, I didn't know," replied Anya in a sharp tone, putting the book down with a 'bang' on the table. Her eyes met his but the friendliness had all but disappeared – replaced by an icy defiance instead. If there was one thing that could guarantee you a spot on Anya Volkova's 'bad side' it was to hold Muggles in low esteem. She was very nearly one herself.

"Sorry. That came out wrong," He looked guilty. "I just didn't know any pureblood who read Muggle literature."

"Well, I do," she answered. "Oh, and just in case you're one of those pureblood snobs, you probably would want to know that I'm half-blood." She was glad that Professor McGonagall entered the classroom just then, ending the conversation.

Back in the room, Anya was quiet as a mouse as she read the novel. It had been the last book her father had bought for her and was part of a Muggle fantasy series, but the "magical world" depicted in it mirrored the actual Wizarding world so well, something Anya found out during her stay at her aunt's. They read it together on nights when he wasn't needed at the hospital. Anya had put off reading the last chapter since his death and chose instead to keep returning to the first page, savouring each printed letter and remembering how her father had done the voices.

A low giggling startled Anya and reminded her that she was not alone. The medium-sized room was second home to the four other girls who were now sitting by the window and eating chocolate. The giggle had come from Rosalind Holt – a blonde girl, tallest of them all. She was pretty, Anya thought. Her blonde hair fell in waves up her waist looking soft to the touch. Her eyes were a bit peculiar – a sort of dull mossy green but when she smiled, it looked pretty too.

"Want some?" Abigail held out a pack out colourful chocolates as she stepped into the room. She had been the only one who talked to Anya and even that was rare. She had blonde hair too but it wasn't as impressive as Rosalind's. Abigail's hair was darker and tied in a messy bun during the day.

"Thanks," said Anya as she took a few. The other girls – Adele, Iris and Rosalind - stood up and made their way to the door.

"Come on, Abby. We're going down to the Hall for dinner." Iris strode by Anya and pulled Abigail along. "Coming, Anya?" She arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"Err…sure." Anya left her book under her pillow and followed the girls at a distance behind them. In the Great Hall she sat down next to Abigail Sutton, figuring that the quiet Muggleborn was the safest bet out of the whole lot.

"I wonder what's for afters." Abigail tapped her fingers against the wood table, furrowing her brows as if in deep thought. Her question was not left unanswered for long as a moment later, the puddings appeared. The spread for a normal day's dinner was never as plentiful as that first day but delicious nonetheless. "Yum! Apple crumble, my favourite!" She scooped it up and topped it with vanilla ice cream.

Anya hadn't had a chance to decide what to eat when an owl – black feathers with ominous yellow eyes – flew in and dropped a parcel on her lap. "It's here!" she screeched, ripping into the brown packaging enthusiastically. The pygmy owl was hers – newly bought by her Aunt Ekat from a store in London. Anya was – is – a cat person but Persei had been quarantined while they were crossing the border into England and Aunt Ekat had insisted that an owl would be more 'practical'. Tossing the wrapping paper aside, Anya sighed as she admired the novel in her hands. Whoever said happiness couldn't be bought obviously had never had the pleasure of purchasing a really good book, she decided.

"Jubbly Bongos and the Scottish Beavers," Rosalind read, tilting her head slightly as she did. "I never heard of it."

"Jubbly Bongos!" Adele was all but screaming. "Jubbly. Bongos. You have got to be kidding me!" She grabbed the book from Anya's hands and turned it over, skimming the synopsis briefly. For a nanosecond, Anya could only stare at the petite girl in shock. Then she reacted.

"Give it back, Adele," growled Anya, snatching it from Adele's long, thin fingers. "What's it to you what I read anyway?"

"H.R.R. Reed?" Adele prompted. "Adele Reed?" When Anya didn't appear to have caught on, she sighed. "For god's sake, Anya, this horrible excuse for a writer --" Adele tapped the picture of the author on the back jacket of the book from across the table. "-- is my father. Merlin, I can't escape from that man. Ever!"

"He's your father?" Anya was more than just a little sceptical. Could this perfect looking blonde girl actually be related to the great H.R.R. Reed? Maybe the other girl was just pulling her leg.

"Yes," Adele replied impatiently.

"I don't believe you." Anya's downturn lip was curved in a condescending smile. She' probably lying, she thought as she watched the other girl's facial expression change from bizarre to anger.

"The way I see it, there's only two reason people lie. To cover up something stupid they did or to brag and I don't see a point in either when it comes to my Dad."

"Oh." Anya was quiet for awhile, contemplating if she should believe the girl. Adele's emerald green eyes were shining determinedly back at hers. Deciding to trust her, Anya said, "In that case, could you please get me an autograph?"

Adele shook her head in dismay, moaning into the sleeves of her robe. "Why, Merlin? Why?"

"I don't know what you're on about," said Anya, taking Adele's dramatic reactions personally. "I think he's great. Jubbly Bongos is a real character."

"He was named after my cat," Adele retorted, rolling her eyes. She took another hard look at Anya and gave a quiet sigh. "I'll get you the signature by the next owl."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Anya leaned over the table and forced-hugged Adele, not caring that the ice cream was now smeared on her robes.

"Welcome," murmured Adele in blank surprise when the other girl released her. She was hoping that the Russian girl would be friendlier as the term went on, but she didn't think that Anya would be this friendly. Iris and Rosalind were looking at them with amused expressions on their faces.

"So your dad's a writer?" Abigail broke the silence first. She posed the question to Adele but her eyes were fixed on Anya who was goofily breathing in the smell of the book. Never in her life had she seen someone so...odd as Anya. The girl presented herself in a very cold, snarky way but Abigail suspected it was just a thick exterior, meant to ward off outsiders. Abigail always made it a point to look for the best in people.

"Yes, you could say that," Adele replied dryly. "He writes fantasy, mostly. Gets his ideas from my mom. She's a witch. The Jubbly Bongos series is his best work so far. I think it was in the bestseller's list for awhile."

"What's it about?" Iris's musical voice asked. Adele jerked her shoulders.

"It's about this fantasy world but when you read it, you'll find that it's actually a lot like ours. There are wizards and all these magic schools. Jubbly is teenage wizard who goes on missions, helping to save the world and all that." Anya said it without looking up from the book. She wasn't sure if she should read it now since technically, she hadn't finished reading the previous book yet. It was killing her – the need to know what would happen to her favourite hero next, but although her heart was pounding furiously with excitement, she couldn't help but notice the intense sorrow that now spread through her veins. Would I betray him if I read this, she asked herself. The pain she tried so hard to smother was crawling its way back up to the surface.

"How on earth did you find these books?" asked Adele, curious. "I didn't know he had a following in Russia."

"He didn't," said Anya. She willed herself to stop staring at the front cover and met Adele's gaze. "My dad buys – I mean, bought them for me when he was in London for a conference. He didn't really know how to explain the Magical World to me so he used to buy me all these novels about magic and we'd read them together." Her collection of books, alphabetically shelved by Aunt Ekat, consisted for the most parts – of fantasy novels.

"Oh." Adele could have kicked herself but she really didn't know what else to say.

Rosalind narrowed her eyes at Anya. She didn't like the way this was going. The girl had been rude and now just because of some stupid book, they were friends? "If you were thinking of apologizing for being rude to us, now would be a good time." Her words were razor-sharp and not at all friendly.

"I think I'm all set, but thanks anyway," said Anya smoothly. Apologies were not her forte, so to speak. She had felt guilty for losing her temper with Adele and Abigail but the words were too heavy to roll off her tongue.

"It's okay." Adele shrugged her narrow shoulders again. "I think it's about time this cold war ended."

The girls were soon interrupted by Professor Flitwick who was swatting the students with his wand. "Off to bed, all of you. Stop giggling like a gaggle of geese and off to bed!" As Anya walked up the Ravenclaw Tower, she thought that things might not be so bad after all.

}-i-{

For one Sirius Black, Hogwarts was a home away from home. He had never noticed just how suffocated he felt in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place until he stepped inside this great old castle and realised that no looming voice was going to reprimand him for wanting to sleep late, no hands will be raised against him for having a laugh.

"All right mate?" James raised an eyebrow quizzically at his newfound friend.

"Great." Sirius grinned in reply, showing perfectly straight teeth.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and a rainy one at that. In the spacious dorm room, the boys lay on their beds, watching the clouds pouring. "Did your parents go bonkers after you told them you were in Gryffindor?"

Sirius turned to look at the boy who had spoken – Peter Pettigrew. A small boy with mousy brown hair and more than a little excess weight. He smirked inwardly, thinking that he bore an uncanny resemblance to that girl (Anna was it?). As a reply, he gave the boy a pointed look and said, "I think the Howler two days ago describes what Mother felt quite well actually. Father...well, he's more of a physical being." Absently he rubbed the spot above his left knee – a scar was there underneath his robes. A direct result of his father's anger. "Let's go for a walk," he said absently.

"Where to?" Remus looked up from the yellowing parchment.

"I don't know..." mused Sirius, smiling wickedly. "I'm feeling quite hungry though."

"Dinner's a few hours away," said Peter, pointing out the obvious.

"I know that." Sirius clicked his tongue in annoyance. "But a castle as big as Hogwarts...there's sure to be a large kitchen somewhere..."

James shot up from his bed instantly, wearing a devilish grin that matched Sirius's. "Mister Black, I like the way you think."

"Thank you Mister Potter. Now if you ladies would like to join us..."

Peter hesitated for a second before standing as well. "I could use a snack."

"Remus?" prompted James.

The lanky boy looked at his three dorm mates for a while before sighing. "All right, I suppose I could use a study break."

"Excellent."

And so they trotted down the stairs from the Gryffindor Tower, chatting away as they made their way to the Great Hall. Sirius had figured that if the food was served in the Hall, it was probably prepared somewhere nearby as well. They kept talking as they walked, turning into every possible corner and checking every crevice without even realising it.

"What are you lot doing?" A curious voice asked. Turning around, the boys saw that they were being stared at by a group of girls. The one who spoke was an athletic-looking one with short black hair.

"What's it to you?" snapped Sirius, glaring at the girl.

"We were just trying to find the kitchens," Peter supplied helpfully. He didn't like trouble and was not looking for one now, only weeks after the first day of class.

"Oh, why didn't you just say so?" A blonde girl with the straight hair shrugged her narrow shoulders. "It's down that staircase." She pointed to a secluded staircase on the side of the Hall. "We were just there."

"Thanks," said James appreciatively. He recognized them from Ravenclaw and wondered why they were in the kitchens. His dad had told him the Hufflepuff's common room was near the kitchens, not the Ravenclaw's. "Why were you there?"

"Oh, I don't know," said a girl James recognized as Anya. She was the one who had snapped at him in McGonagall's Transfiguration class. "What else would a student do in the kitchen? Gee, that's a really tough question."

"We all know what you were doing, Anna," retorted Sirius bitingly. He let his gaze study her form slowly, deliberately, sneering inwardly as he saw her squirming. "Stuffing your face again eh? Careful there, you're looking more whale than cow these days." Peter shuffled his feet awkwardly, diverting his eyes to take a sudden interest in the wet grounds.

"First of all, the name is Anya. That's A-N-Y-A, if you can't spell." The girl started walking closer and closer. James and Remus had the common sense to inch backwards but Sirius stood his ground, smirking down at the shorter girl. He noticed uncomfortably that she was blinking a little too rapidly, more than a normal person would. Merlin, did he make her cry? "And second of all," she paused, and tried to think of a second point.

"Second of all, Anya's not the least bit fat and even if she was, fat can be lost and gained, you miserable twit," continued the blonde girl, narrowing her bright green eyes. "Stupidity however, you must live with forever." She took hold of Anya's hand and started to walk away.

"Huh," snorted Sirius, rolling his eyes at his friends. "She's either blind or completely crackers!" He felt the tug deep inside him and felt annoyed again. It's not guilt, its just hunger, he told himself.

"Completely crackers, I'd say." James nodded and then nudged Sirius on the shoulders. "They did tell us where the kitchens were..."

Their laughter echoed off the walls as they made their way down the staircase. Remus remained rooted for a second longer, stealing a look of regret in Anya's direction. "Coming, Remus?" He started at the voice, finding Sirius's gaze locked onto his.

"Yeah." He nodded and followed behind them, grinning widely. He had friends now, and friends – they always come first.

a/n: _ did you like it? hate it? thought it was so-so? just please tell me what you think!~ :)) thankss!!!