AN: Hey, all! Here's a new chapter for you. Sorry for the delay! At least it's a long one, though. I want to say thank you to my reviewers. It means a lot to me, really! I'd appreciate more, if you're willing to give them. It might make me write faster…(hint, hint). I'm not really happy with this chapter, so I'm sorry if it sucks. It took me a while to write it. Anyway, read on and enjoy (hopefully)…
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters, etc. of J.K. Rowlings creation.
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Dumbledore came striding into the hospital room, Madame Pomfrey at his heels.
Anabelle immediately sat up as straight as she could and hoped she looked at least semi-presentable as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She was more nervous than she had ever been in her life. What if he told her to get out? She didn't have anywhere to go… Best make a good impression, she thought.
Harry stood next to Anabelle's bed, still slightly shell-shocked from her question. He was glad that Dumbledore was there. Maybe now he could sort this mystery out and find out who this girl really was.
Dumbledore reached the girl's bed and looked down at her with a gentle smile. "Well, young lady, you're looking much improved. You gave us all quite a scare, you know. How are you feeling, now?" he asked with evident concern.
"I…I'm feeling much better now, thank you sir," she said timidly, relieved that he hadn't told her to get out yet and uncertain how to react to his caring gaze.
As if sensing the girl's fear and apprehension, Dumbledore gave her a warm and reassuring smile. "It's alright, dear. You are safe and welcome within these walls. No doubt Harry has told you where you are and the circumstances under which we found you?" he inquired.
Anabelle nodded and glanced quickly at Harry with a small smile. "Yes sir, he told me."
"Very well then. I believe introductions are in order. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts," he bowed slightly and looked expectantly at the girl before him.
"It's truly an honor to meet you, sir," she flushed. "I've heard-- er…read so much about you," she said. Dumbledore smiled, and she went on. "I'm Anabelle."
Dumbledore nodded. "And your last name, my dear?" he asked.
"Oh! It's Carrows. Anabelle Carrows," she said without thinking. She realized her mistake, however, when Madame Pomfrey gasped and the room fell deathly silent.
Harry looked around, first at the shocked face of Madame Pomfrey, then at the very still form of the Headmaster (who was very obviously trying to hide his surprise), and finally at the crestfallen Anabelle, who looked as if she wanted to crawl under the covers and disappear. What was going on?
Dumbledore was the first to break the heavy silence. "Your father, then, is Alecto Carrows?" he asked quietly.
Anabelle was too scared to speak, so she nodded slowly, afraid to meet the Headmaster's eyes. This is it. They're going to tell me to get out. Oh gods, what if they throw me in prison, or something? I never should have opened my big mouth, she lamented inwardly.
Dumbledore's face was expressionless as he studied the girl intently. "I see," he said finally.
Anabelle realized she had to say something, anything, to make them understand. She looked pleadingly up at the Headmaster, her words flowing out of her so fast it was almost difficult to make sense of it. "Please, sir, I know this looks horrible, but I don't mean anyone any harm. I-I'm not like them, I swear it. They're terrible people. That's why I ran away. I had to, you see? They were going to kill me, I know it! I didn't even intend to end up here, I was running for so long…I-I understand if you want to get rid of me, but please know that I'm not one of them. Please—" She broke off in a sob, unable to say more.
Dumbledore immediately moved closer and laid a gentle hand on Anabelle's shoulder. He spoke in a soothing voice, trying to comfort the distraught girl before him. "Calm yourself, my dear girl. Shhh, now, it's all right. No one is going to get rid of you, I assure you. As a matter of fact, I think you may be stuck with us for some time," he smiled.
Anabelle looked into the Headmaster's kind eyes and knew he was telling the truth, which calmed her down a bit. She sniffed a few times, the occasional tear streamed down her face. Madame Pomfrey patted Anabelle's hand and shook her head, looking pityingly upon the girl.
"Oh, you poor dear. There's no need to cry now. It's not your fault your parents were—er…are, followers of…well, you-know-who," she whispered the last part (as many witches and wizards who were afraid to speak his name did).
Harry looked up in shock, finally realizing why the Headmaster and Pomfrey had reacted so dramatically to the girl's identity.
"Your parents are Death Eaters?" he blurted out towards Anabelle incredulously. He didn't mean it as an accusation (after all, there were students in Hogwarts who had Death Eaters for parents); it just wasn't what he was expecting.
He immediately regretted it, however, when she hung her head down in shame. He felt a pang in his heart as he saw the tears roll silently down her face, and he realized that he would have given anything at that moment to see her smile and laugh like she had been only moments before. Great job, Potter.
Pomfrey frowned disapprovingly at Harry, and Dumbledore turned serious eyes in his direction. "Yes, Harry. Alecto and Andromeda Carrows have long been in the service of Lord Voldemort (at this, Pomfrey winced). They went missing, however, shortly after Voldemort's fall the night you received that scar, as many of his followers did."
Harry averted his eyes as pain filled him, as it always did, when he was reminded of that fateful night. The night his parents were killed.
Anabelle looked up at Harry, noticing for the first time the strangely shaped scar upon his forehead, half-hidden by his mop of unruly hair. He must have gotten it as a baby, she realized, remembering that her parents had gone into hiding around the time she was born. She knew it had to be significant if Dumbledore mentioned it, but she wasn't sure why. She made a mental note to ask Harry about it later.
"Many assumed they were dead," Dumbledore continued, "but it seemed more logical that they had gone into hiding to avoid being taken to Azkaban. A search was conducted, but no trace of them was ever found. I have known all this for a very long time now, you see," he paused. "However, I was quite unaware that they had a child," he fixed his gaze on Anabelle, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
Madame Pomfrey shook her head again in disbelief. "To think, a poor baby in the hands of those monsters! Why, it's unbelievable!" Dumbledore shot a glance at Pomfrey that clearly told her to hush up. She did, of course, but couldn't help tutting every now and then, shaking her head as if trying to convince herself that it wasn't true.
"Ms. Carrows, perhaps it would be best if you explained to us the circumstances under which you came to be here," Dumbledore spoke gently to Anabelle. "I assure you, what you say will not condemn you to anything. You have nothing to fear here. However, it would be most helpful…" he trailed off, gazing meaningfully at her.
Anabelle sniffed. "It's Anabelle," she whispered, barely audibly.
The Headmaster frowned and leaned closer. "I'm sorry?"
She looked up into his eyes. "Anabelle. My name's Anabelle," she stated clearly.
The Headmaster nodded in understanding and smiled kindly at her. "Of course. Anabelle. Forgive me."
She nodded and tried to smile, but somehow she couldn't. She knew she had to tell them everything, and it wouldn't be easy. The last thing she wanted to do was relive all of the painful memories she had suffered throughout her life, especially when she had finally succeeded in escaping the hell she'd left behind. She felt another breakdown coming. I can't do it…I can't.
However, just when she was about to fall apart all over again, she felt someone take her hand.
She looked up to see Harry looking down at her; his green eyes boring into her own as if they were saying, 'you can do it.' His hand grasped hers in a gentle, yet secure embrace that made her feel like she was safe. Like nothing could ever harm her again. He nodded almost imperceptibly and squeezed her hand, letting her know he was there for her.
It gave her the strength she needed for what she was about to say.
She looked deep into his eyes and gave a small smile of thanks. She cast her eyes downward, took a deep breath, and began her story.
"My mother had me shortly after she and my father had gone into hiding. I'm not sure if they even wanted a child…my father certainly didn't. When I was very young he wouldn't even look at me most of the time, and when he did, it was either with disgust or…hatred. My mother…well, she took care of me…but it was never with love. Even as a child I could see that. In those early years, I remember her being better than my father, but she always handled me with a sort of…neutrality. She looked at me, but never really saw me.
"I learned early on not to cry, or fuss, or whine in front of them. They either paid no attention or…punished me. We went from place to place, usually small villages or abandoned cabins. Sometimes I think the only reason they kept me around was so they could use me to their advantage. They knew that they wouldn't be recognized as easily if I was around, since no one knew about me. Their pursuers weren't looking for a couple with a child.
"As I grew older, things got worse. I wanted to know why we were hiding and from whom, but they refused to tell me anything, and my father would always get angry with me for asking too many questions. I think they must have sensed that I wasn't like them, and the older I got, the more hostile they were towards me.
"They would lock me in my room every night, and I was almost never allowed to go outside or talk to other people. Sometimes they would leave for hours at a time, though I never knew where they went, and they never told me…at least at first they didn't tell me. I never tried to escape because I knew what they would do to me if I were found.
"I started noticing that I could make things happen whenever I was very sad or angry. It wasn't a total surprise, though, since I knew they were wizards, but needless to say, I was fascinated by it. I tried controlling it, but since it only happened when I was feeling a strong emotion, it was useless.
"However, one night when I was about twelve or so, I managed to open my door. I didn't mean to, but I was crying and feeling bitter and angry about my life. I couldn't understand why they hated me so much." At this, Anabelle broke off as her emotions swelled, and she choked down a sob. She was desperately trying not to break down.
Harry gave her hand another squeeze, trying to give her the strength he knew she needed to continue. Everyone was silent and listening intently as she went on.
"I knew they had been gone for some time, so I thought it was safe to go into the main room. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, or even if I was going to do anything at all, but I stopped when I noticed something on the kitchen table.
"It was a wizarding newspaper. My mother had taught me how to read when I was very young; since it was the only thing I seemed to be interested in. She gave me a few books, which I treasured and read over and over again because they provided me with an escape from my world. I think she just wanted me to be occupied with something so I wouldn't bother them, but it was fine by me.
"Anyway, I sat down when I spotted their names on the front page. It was an article that gave the names of the followers, or…Death Eaters, of Lord Voldemort that were still missing. They were on the list, and beside their names were the reasons why they were wanted. It said they had killed several witches and wizards, as well as a few muggles.
"I was horrified. I had always known that whatever they were wanted for, it was bad…but I never imagined this. I read the entire thing over and over again. I didn't want to believe it, but there it was staring me in the face.
"I don't know how long I sat there. All I remember is my parents returning and seeing that I had gotten out of my room. My father was furious. He made to hit me, and I covered my head, waiting for it to come, but it never did. I looked up and saw that he was staring at the newspaper open before me. He looked at the article, then at me, and…smiled, only it wasn't a nice smile, it was…evil," she whispered and shuddered, hugging herself as she remembered the terrible look on his face.
"After that, everything changed. He could see how horrified I was by what they had done, so he…tortured me with it. He forced me to listen as he went over each death in terrifying detail. I begged him to stop, but he ignored me and shook me when I cried and pleaded with him as he went on. Then he asked me if I wanted to know where they went when they disappeared. I shook my head, but he didn't care. He was…enjoying it. He liked watching me squirm. It was l-like a game for him."
She took a steadying breath, and Harry's hand tightened his hold on her own as his other formed a fist. He was having a hard time fighting his anger down enough to listen to her story. It was like the evil in them had sought out the good in her in order to destroy it. He almost couldn't fathom such cruelty. How could anyone want to hurt her?
He looked at Dumbledore to see if he was feeling the same way, but if he was, he was doing a good job at hiding it. His face was emotionless as he patiently waited for Anabelle to continue, but his eyes betrayed what he was really feeling. They were filled with sadness. Pomfrey looked horrified, shaking her head in dismay at the girl's words.
"He told me that they went out to do service for the Dark Lord, who he praised to me, making him seem like he was a God, or something. H-he told me that they went out to kill anyone who was in Voldemort's way. They had killed three muggles that night, a mother, father, and child, simply because it was…fun. He told me how they had screamed and begged for mercy." She paused, and a tear streamed down her face.
"Everything changed from that night on. They tortured me with information, telling me horrible things they did and would do. I tried not to listen, but it was no use. It was so much worse than being punched or kicked. It would give me nightmares. I couldn't escape from it. I would wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, with the sound of those muggles' screams in my head. It was so horrible…
"I would hear my parents talking sometimes at night outside my door when they thought I was asleep. They mentioned your name a few times," she nodded at Harry. "They talked about how Voldemort would defeat you and conquer the wizarding world. They spoke with such hatred and malice that it scared me. I didn't know who you were or why they hated you. That's why I was so surprised when you told me your name. I wasn't expecting someone my age to be the great enemy of Voldemort," she told him.
Harry listened attentively and realized why she had reacted so strangely when she discovered his identity. She didn't know anything about him, really, just that he was Voldemort's enemy. It all made sense now.
"Your name gave me hope. I knew that if someone was opposing them, fighting them, then it couldn't be all bad. There was a chance they could be stopped, and it gave me strength. Even though I had never met you, it gave me strength. It was all I had to hold on to," she said quietly.
Harry's emotions swelled as he looked at her downcast face. He had given her hope? He didn't know what to say. He felt a stirring of something deep inside him, but couldn't identify it. Was it concern? Sadness? Sympathy? Or was it something else…?
"When I was fifteen," she continued, "we moved again to a small wizarding village in the mountains. The house was small and secluded, out of the way from everything. My parents never spoke to the villagers and forbade me to, as well. They were gone throughout most of the daytime, so I had a lot of time to myself, which I was grateful for, but it got really lonely. I thought, if only there was a way I could somehow get out, not even to run away (I knew that even if I did manage to escape them I wouldn't have anywhere to go), but just to see the village and explore, then it would be better.
"I figured I could go during the day and come back long before they returned. I just…I felt so trapped. I had to try, or I knew I would go mad. One day, I finally worked up the courage to try and get my door to open, like I had before. For hours I did everything I could think of, even going as far as trying to unscrew the hinges physically, but nothing worked. They had made sure I wouldn't get out again. I was about to give up when I noticed something.
"My room had a window, but it had been boarded up long ago, making it seem impenetrable, which is why I never tried it before. But the boards were so old; I knew there must be a way to get to the window. If I could get past the boards, I knew I could easily climb out since my parents hadn't bothered to cast a spell on it (probably for the same reason I had disregarded it as a means of escape before).
"As I got close and inspected the boards, I noticed that the wood around the nails on all but one corner had been eaten away. It was only noticeable up close, and my heart swelled with hope. I grabbed the top of the boards and tugged with all the strength I had. Slowly, the boards slid downwards and to the side enough to put the window in full view. I almost cried I was so excited.
"The window was small and rusted, but I managed to open it with relative ease and climbed through. I was free…It felt so nice just to be outside and be able to explore on my own. I made my way down to the village and walked slowly, taking everything in.
"No one paid me much attention. Most of them were busy with work tending to their animals, selling wares, watching over their children, or working in small shops. I was fascinated with everything. My eyes couldn't take it in fast enough. I walked until I reached the end of the village and was about to turn around to go back when I saw a small shop, standing alone at the very end of the road.
"The sign was old and weathered, and it said Brighton's Books. My feet seemed to carry me inside of their own accord, and I was awed by what I saw.
"Covering every wall were shelves upon shelves filled with books of all sizes, shapes, and colors. I had never seen so many books…I didn't know where to look first. It was like walking into some sort of heaven. A lifetime's worth of books, right before me. I immediately began looking around, reading the titles.
"Suddenly I heard someone ask if they could help me with anything. I turned around and saw an old man looking at me. He was tall, with a kind face, small spectacles, and a shock of white hair growing in all directions. He reminded me of a big lion." She paused, smiling at the memory.
"I told him no, that I was just looking around. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to talk to anyone. I guess I was scared my parents would somehow find out. But he was so nice. He introduced himself as Barnaby Brighton, and I told him my name was Ana. I think he must have noticed how much I loved books, because he immediately engaged me in conversation about them. We talked for a long time. He showed me all sorts of fascinating books about spells, history, magical places and creatures. I wanted to read them all, but I told him I didn't have any money.
"He just smiled and told me to come back tomorrow if I wanted. He didn't get many customers these days, and it was nice to talk to someone who had as much passion for knowledge as he did. I agreed and went home. I couldn't wait for the next day to come. It was nice to have somebody to talk to. I climbed back through my window and made sure the boards were back in place so it wouldn't be discovered and for once in my life, I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
"The next day I went back to Mr. Brighton's. He made tea, and we sat and talked for hours about everything…well, he did most of the talking actually. But that was fine with me. I didn't offer any personal information, and he didn't ask. He must have sensed it was a sensitive topic, I suppose. I merely told him that my family and I had moved here for a while and that my parents liked their privacy.
"He told me all sorts of stories about his travels and things he had seen and done. He had led a fascinating life. What I was most interested in, however, was when he talked about Hogwarts. He said it was a school for young witches and wizards to learn about magic, and that he had gone there as a boy. I had had no idea that there was an actual school like that. It sounded so wonderful.
"I think he must have then realized that I wasn't in school, and he asked me why I wasn't. I quickly lied and told him that I was home schooled. He must have bought it because he didn't ask any more questions about it.
"I had to lie to him. I didn't want to tell him something about myself or my parents that would put him in danger. I knew that if they found out that he knew something…" She broke off with a pained look on her face. Harry realized that she looked…guilty. But why? he wondered.
"Anyway, he noted my interest in the school, so he gave me a book about it called Hogwarts: A History. He told me I could keep it for as long as I wished. It…it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I couldn't thank him enough."
Harry smiled at this. Well, Hermione is sure going to like her…
"I took the book home with me and read it until the sun sank beneath the trees. I hid it under a loose floorboard in my room so my parents wouldn't discover it. I read it from front to back, and then over again. It's how I learned about you and how wonderful a Headmaster you are," she said to Dumbledore, who smiled and nodded his head in thanks.
"I kept visiting Mr. Brighton every chance I could get. He grew to be like a father to me. The kind of father my true one never was. He let me borrow all sorts of books, which I brought home to read. It's how I learned about spells and how to cast them. I didn't have a wand, of course, but I nearly memorized them all just in case I did get one some day. I had nothing but time, so it was easy for me to read each book over and over again. It was all so fascinating to me.
"This continued for some time. We stayed in the cabin for a little over a year. I guess my parents thought it a fairly safe place to stay, and I was glad for it. I had made a friend, and life seemed to be bearable, unlike in the past. My parents were gone far more often, now, so it left less time for them to torment me. By the time they returned at night, I was usually asleep."
Here, Anabelle stopped and seemed to be struggling with something. Harry noticed that she looked reluctant to continue. Her red-rimmed eyes filled with unshed tears, and he gave her hand another gentle squeeze. He knew that whatever she was about to say couldn't be anything good. He suddenly had the strangest urge to take her into her arms and tell her it was going to be okay, but he resisted. He knew she had to do this on her own.
Dumbledore also noticed her struggle, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, my dear. Go ahead," he said quietly.
Pomfrey looked concerned at Anabelle's pale complexion. "Perhaps she should finish the story another time, Albus. She's had far too much excitement for one day," she said, ever the worried nurse.
"It's alright," Anabelle said. "Really, I'm fine." Though she didn't sound very convinced.
Anabelle sniffed and tried to gather strength from the gentle, encouraging faces surrounding her. She took another deep breath and continued.
"One night…I came back from Mr. Brighton's with a new book. I read for hours on my bed. Normally, I would be extremely careful, and I would hide the book away before the sun set, just in case my parents returned early. I…I couldn't put this book down, however, so I…I kept reading for much longer than I usually did. My parents had come home extremely late the past couple of nights, so I thought it would be okay…
"I-I must have fallen asleep while I was reading it…because the next thing I remember is my parents standing over me with the book in their hands. They…they screamed at me…demanding to know where I had gotten it. I-I was so frightened. I'd never seen my father so angry…" Her breathing was ragged now, the tears threatening to fall at any moment.
"I…I tried to lie to them. I told them that I had found the book underneath an old floorboard. I knew I had given away my hiding space, but it was the only thing I could think of to say. My father…knew I was lying and demanded I tell him who had given it to me. I refused. He grabbed his wand and…threw the Crucio curse at me."
Madame Pomfrey gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. Both Harry and Dumbledore stiffened visibly at the mention of the Unforgivable curse. Anabelle took no notice and continued shakily.
"It was the first time he had used magic to harm me, and the pain was…unbearable. He did it again and again, trying to force it out of me, but I-I refused to tell them. I blacked out after a while; the last thing I remembered was my father's livid face staring down at me."
Harry's grip on her hand tightened as a new respect for the girl grew in him. He knew what that curse felt like, but to endure it over and over again…He shuddered at the thought. And yet, even through all that she still managed to keep her secret safe. She was stronger than she looked, he realized.
"When I woke up, it was day. I picked myself up from the floor, and I…I noticed that my door was wide open. I was surprised, to say the least. I had figured that they would lock me in for days as a punishment. I…I knew something had happened when I was out. All of a sudden I had this horrible feeling, like…dread.
"I-I walked slowly into the other room. My parents were there, sitting at the kitchen table laughing and talking about the weather…as if nothing had happened. I…I didn't know what to think. I-it was so strange…I remember asking myself if last night had been a bad dream…if it hadn't happened after all. But I knew that wasn't true. I was aching all over…I could barely stand.
"They noticed my entrance and…said good morning. Never in my life had they ever said that to me. I just stared at them as if they were insane. My father had that horrible smile on his face again. I was so confused…I couldn't have spoken even if I had wanted to. And…and that's when I saw it," she shuddered and closed her eyes, as if willing the image from her mind.
"Sitting on the table, in full view, was a pair of spectacles. My world came crashing down as I recognized them immediately. They…they were…they were Mr. Brighton's." Two tears escaped her eyes as she stared straight ahead, her face otherwise devoid of emotion.
"And I just knew…" she whispered. "I knew that they had killed him. They had found him, somehow, and they…they—." She broke off, unable to speak anymore as sobs wracked her body, and she fell apart before them all.
Her three listeners were still, all of them in horror and dismay at what the young girl had said.
Harry's mouth hung open slightly in disbelief as rage coursed through his body at the pure evil that was her parents. But then, he knew all about evil…He realized that what her parents had done wasn't entirely shocking, given what they were, but he'd never get used to the fact that Voldemort and his followers were capable of anything. Any evil one could imagine, they were capable of it. He was reminded of that every time he thought about his parents or looked in the mirror.
Concern eventually won over his rage as he looked down at the broken Anabelle before him. Without a thought, Harry sunk down onto the bed and gathered the girl into his arms, cradling her, gently rocking back and forth.
Anabelle collapsed in his arms and held on for dear life as the tears flowed in rivers down her face. It didn't matter that she hardly knew him, or that Pomfrey and the famous Albus Dumbledore stood by watching. All that mattered was her need to feel safe and cared for, even though she knew she didn't deserve any of it. But if for just a moment she could feel comforted…it would be enough to keep her going.
Harry simply held her, not really knowing what he should say, if anything. She was trembling now, and he wished there was something he could do to take her pain away. It was heartbreaking. Everyone else was still and silent, and for a while, no said anything.
As if coming to her senses, Anabelle untangled herself from Harry's firm hold abruptly and distanced herself from him on the bed. Harry felt a little hurt by this, without really knowing why, but he allowed it. She sat against the headboard, her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes staring into nothingness.
"It was all my fault," she whispered painfully. "He…he died because of my carelessness. A poor, old, innocent man…and they killed him. But it might as well have been me who threw the curse at him." Her features were guilt-ridden, and it struck Harry that he had never seen anyone in so much pain or guilt.
Dumbledore shook his head at the girl sadly. He placed both of his hands gently on her shoulders, which forced her to look at him "No…no, Anabelle," he whispered. "You mustn't blame yourself for this. It is not your fault he was killed. It was your parents', and the evil that consumes them." At this she shook her head violently, about to voice her disagreement, but she was silenced by the stern, serious look in the Headmaster's eyes.
"Listen to me, Anabelle, and listen well, for this is something every witch and wizard must know. For all the love, and goodness, and friendship, and hope in this world, there is an evil…a hatred…that threatens to destroy it. People like Voldemort…people like your parents. But we must not let them. There will always be those who wish to perform this evil, and though we are fighting it, I am afraid it will never truly be gone. But it can be overcome.
"I see that you are pure of heart. You would have given your life to save his. You almost did when you refused to tell them about his existence. Do not forget that. You are filled with everything good they seek to conquer. You must not let them win by losing hope and blaming yourself for something they did. I am certain Mr. Brighton would not blame you. A bond like that is not easily broken.
"Guilt is a powerful emotion…but there are stronger things. Like love…like hope. Do not let it consume you, or you will be lost to the good forever. Hold on to the hope, Anabelle. Hold on to the friendship you had with Mr. Brighton and let that be your guide. Not guilt…never guilt."
Anabelle looked into the powerful wizard's eyes and saw the sincerity that lay in them. She wanted to believe everything he was saying. She wanted it to be true. But could she let it go so easily? She didn't think so.
"It won't be easy, Anabelle. But you must believe…" he said quietly, as if reading her mind. She looked up, astonished. How did he know?
She looked down at her hands and nodded. The tears were threatening to come again, and she willed herself to be strong. If she could summon half the strength and determination she saw in the Headmaster's eyes, then maybe she would be okay after all…
Dumbledore gave her a small smile and nodded as well, straightening again to his full height. "Good. I assume you and your parents changed locations again after this…incident, am I correct?" he asked carefully.
Anabelle broke from her daze at this and nodded again, not trusting herself enough to speak again quite yet.
"Of course, you don't have to continue if that is your wish…" he trailed off, knowing that it was all taking quite a toll on her.
"No," she spoke softly. "No, it's alright. The story's nearly finished now anyways, and I'd rather get it over with."
"Very well," he bowed his head, waiting patiently for her to continue.
"There's not much more to tell, really," she sighed. "We moved almost immediately after…after…well, you know," she whispered, and they all nodded in understanding.
"My parents hadn't spoken a word to me since that morning. I was still in shock at what had happened, so I barely noticed. We moved to an old, decrepit cabin in the middle of the woods. It looked like it had been there for over a century. It was tiny, too. It only had one room. I thought it odd. In the past, we had always stayed in or near a village, I suppose to make it seem less suspicious should someone come knocking at our door.
"But this cabin was in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. There was no village. No people. My parents were acting strangely. They were quiet…too quiet. I had made up my mind the second I found out about Mr. Brighton that I would try to escape them the first chance I got. I didn't care if it got me killed, or if I had no place to go. I just…I couldn't stay with them…not after what they had done. But when we suddenly moved to this cabin, I feared they had discovered my plan or somehow guessed it. I figured they wanted to keep a closer eye on me…but I was wrong. So wrong.
"The first night we were there is when I learned my parents' true purpose for bringing me there. It was very late. My mother stood by the door, and my father stood in the middle of the room. He slowly pulled out his wand…and the look on his face was…it was filled with hatred and determination. All at once it dawned on me. They were going to kill me. That's why they had brought me there.
"He told me that I had become more trouble than I was worth. That it was time to get rid of me for good, seeing as how all I was to them was a burden. I tried to plead with him to let me go, and I told him I wouldn't tell anyone about them. He responded by throwing a curse at me, which threw me to the floor. He just…laughed and told me how stupid I was. I tried to get up, but he threw another curse at me.
"I cried out. I looked pleadingly at my mother, but she just stared and grinned at me. My father was about to hit me again when she told him to stop playing around and just finish me off.
"All I could do was stare as he pointed his wand at me, not saying a word. I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just lie there and watch as he threw the killing curse at me, so I gathered all the strength and courage I had and dove out of the way when he did. I picked myself up and ran. I think they were shocked for a moment, never thinking that I would fight back. I pushed past my mother and ran out the door. I could hear my father's scream of anger behind me as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me.
"I heard him run after me, but the forest was very dense there, and I was much smaller. I could fit between the trees easily, while they only slowed him down. I could hear him throwing curses left and right, but all I could do was run. I ducked and dodged behind trees and moved in all directions in an attempt to lose him and distance myself as far as possible from them.
"I ran and ran and ran, slowing down only for a second or two here and there to catch my breath, stumbling a few times. I got all sorts of cuts and bruises, but I didn't even seem to feel them. I wasn't even aware of where I was going, but I knew I had lost them, after a while. But that didn't even matter. I was so filled with terror that I don't even think I could've stopped if I wanted to. It seemed like I had been running for hours. My heart was thundering in my chest, and I began to feel weak.
"The last thing I remember is running, terrified. I guess I must have collapsed. The next thing I knew, I was here…with you," she said, looking at Harry. "And…and that's it," she swallowed nervously.
There was a moment's silence as her grim words sunk in with everyone. Pomfrey was too stricken to speak, and Harry couldn't have even if he knew what to say. Anabelle merely stared down at her hands, afraid to look up to meet their eyes lest she found judgment in them.
Dumbledore broke the silence first, clearing his throat as he clasped his hands together, steeple-like, looking deep in thought. "Well, that is quite a tale, my dear. I must commend you for your bravery. You did well in escaping them, and I for one am very glad you did," he said sincerely.
At this Pomfrey nodded enthusiastically at the girl, and Harry gave a small smile, showing her he agreed wholeheartedly. Anabelle blushed and murmured a quiet thanks.
Dumbledore began to pace before her bed as he spoke on. "Now that your ordeal is over, I suppose the first order of business is figuring out what to do with you," he stopped, looking at Anabelle as he did so.
"I don't want to be a bother, sir. Please don't trouble yourselves; you have done more than enough for me as it is. I can't thank you enough, by the way," she said hastily, worry in her eyes.
"Now, now, my dear girl, it's quite alright. You are troubling no one, least of all me. We have done what was necessary and there is no need to thank us for it, though it is much appreciated. It just so happens that you have arrived here at Hogwarts at precisely the right time," Dumbledore smiled.
"Right time?" she asked, confused.
Pomfrey caught on to Dumbledore's meaning and cut in excitedly. "Oh, Professor, of course! What a marvelous idea!" she exclaimed.
Anabelle looked from one to the other, her confusion growing. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand…"
Dumbledore's smile grew, and the twinkle returned to his eye. "It is my understanding that when you read about Hogwarts, you wished you could be a student here, am I correct?"
"Well…yes," she said cautiously. "Why?"
"The new term begins a week from now, and I must inform you that I am compelled to enroll you officially as a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from this time forth," he said business-like, the twinkle in his eye apparent as ever.
Anabelle couldn't believe her ears. Is this really happening? Am I dreaming? She stared open-mouthed at the old, kind wizard before her; unable to speak she was so shocked.
"Of course, if you don't want to accept, I understand…" the Headmaster trailed off, knowing full well what the offer had meant to her.
"No!" she nearly yelled. "I mean yes…yes I accept!" Tears of joy streamed down her face as she bolted from her bed, pain forgotten, to throw her arms around the Headmaster, unable to suppress her gratitude.
Dumbledore looked surprised at this for a moment, and then, in a rare show of affection, he smiled as he returned Anabelle's hug. She released him and immediately did the same to Pomfrey who welcomed her with open arms. Finally she turned to Harry, who stood quietly next to her bed, smiling for all he was worth.
She threw her arms around his neck without thinking, and he enclosed his arms around her, laughing. It felt so good to see her happy. He wanted to hold her like that forever, laughing in joy. She parted from him after a few, very long seconds, and shyly wiped her eyes.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. It's all I've ever wanted," she gushed to them, hardly believing she was to be a student at the famous school she had read about. She could learn magic, make new friends, and feel like she was actually a part of something. Yes, it was all she ever wanted and more.
"You are very welcome, Anabelle," Dumbledore said kindly. "I will make all the arrangements and we'll get you caught up. There is no need to worry about a thing. We could use an intelligent, brave, young witch like you. I have no doubt that you will be a marvelous student. You've most likely read all the books, anyway," he jested, smiling.
Anabelle laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it, but I'd be happy to read them again," she said enthusiastically, which gained a merry laugh from everyone.
Dumbledore turned to Harry, then. "Harry, would you be willing to be Anabelle's guide through all this? I can see she is already comfortable with you, and she'll need to become familiar with Hogwarts. You could show her around, perhaps, introduce her to people, that sort of thing?"
"I'd be glad to," Harry said, looking at Anabelle.
"Good," the Headmaster nodded in approval. His smile soon faded, however, and his face turned more serious at his next words. "Anabelle, there is something else that needs to be addressed. It concerns your parents," he paused, staring at her.
Anabelle's short-lived joy plummeted at the mention of them, and her smile faded as well.
Dumbledore continued. "They will no doubt be looking for you, and it may be only a matter of time before they discover you're here. You are very safe within these walls, but it never hurts to be cautious. That is why we need to take some precautions before the term begins," he said gravely.
Feeling numb at his words, she nodded wordlessly. She had no doubt that he was right, and she chided herself inwardly for forgetting it all so easily. They were still out there, and now they probably wanted to kill her more than ever. What if they find me? She shuddered at the thought of what they might do to her if they did.
"Firstly, you must not tell anyone who you really are, at least for now. While I am convinced of your safety here at Hogwarts, it wouldn't do for your identity as a Carrows to come out. Many would jump to conclusions, and you would no doubt receive unwanted attention for it, not to mention the fact that it would make finding you easier for your parents. Of course, I'll have to inform some of the teachers, but that is for your safety as they will be on the lookout for anything suspicious.
"Meanwhile, I will do all in my power to see your parents caught and put to justice for what they have done. They will not get away with this, Anabelle," he stressed quietly. She nodded again, knowing it had to be done. They couldn't be allowed to rampage and kill whomever they pleased.
"I can help," she offered. "I'll do whatever you ask of me. Anything—" she was cut off when Dumbledore hastily interrupted.
"No, my dear. You have helped immensely already simply by telling your story. Their cruelty to you, evasion of capture, and murder of Mr. Brighton, along with the witches, wizards, and Muggles we know they have killed, is helpful evidence which will come in handy at their trial. We may not have solid proof of everything, but I assure you, we will get it," he told her, determination written on his face.
His words comforted her. He made it easy to believe him, and she did. She nodded that she understood, and he continued.
"Now, since your current identity is out of the question, we must provide you with a new one. It's probably best that we stick with the home-schooled story. While it is unconventional, it is not unheard of and not a complete lie either, so it should be easy for you to keep up appearances."
"What will she say about her parents?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. "We'll just say they are currently traveling abroad and could not, for whatever reason, take you with them, so they sent you here so you could have a proper education in the meantime. Again, not a complete lie, and I'm sure the students' curiosity about you will wear off once the term moves along. Just keep details to a minimum, and I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Okay, I guess it sounds easy enough," Anabelle said, trying to sound positive. The truth was, she was steadily growing more nervous about the situation. What if no one liked her? She was to be a new student, after all. What if she didn't fit in? She tried to hide her fears behind a smile as Dumbledore continued.
Harry, unknown to Anabelle, had been studying her and saw the trepidation in her eyes that she was trying so hard to hide. She's scared, he realized. Of course she's scared, she doesn't know anybody. Well, I'll just have to fix that, he thought, determined to make sure Anabelle had a year she'd never forget.
"Now," Dumbledore went on, "about your name…"
"My name?" she asked. "What about it?"
"Well, we'll have to change it, of course. We can't have an Anabelle Carrows on the list of students if you are trying to hide, now can we?" he said.
"Oh…right," she said, feeling foolish for not realizing that that would be a problem.
"Do you have anything in mind, my dear? It is your name after all," he asked her.
Anabelle frowned. She had no idea. How does one go about picking a new name for oneself?
Harry saw her hesitation and decided to jump in. "Well, how about you just keep the name Ana? I mean, it's common enough not to arouse suspicion, and that way you won't slip and get confused like if you picked something completely different for a name," he offered with a shrug.
Pomfrey smiled. "Oh, I think that's a wonderful idea, Harry."
"Do you think that's all right, Professor?" Anabelle asked Dumbledore hopefully.
"I think that will do well. The less risk we take the better, I think," he nodded in approval at Harry's suggestion. "Now all we need is a last name."
They all fell silent in thought, but it was broken when Ana spoke softly.
"Brighton," she said, her stare seemingly far-off and distant. "I'd like it for it to be Brighton. They won't catch on. I doubt they even bothered to learn his name. And…and it would mean a lot to me. To his memory." Her words were somber and heartfelt as she looked deep in thought, smiling sadly as if at some lost memory.
"I think that is a noble idea," Dumbledore said quietly to her. She looked up at him and smiled, feeling better than she had in a very long time.
"Well, Ana Brighton, it's nice to meet you," Harry said cheerfully, shaking her hand and causing her to laugh at his cheeky grin. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Trust me, you're gonna like it here."
She smiled at him, looked around at all their friendly faces and said, "I believe I will…"
A new hope filled her entire being until she felt she would burst with happiness. It was a chance to start all over again. A clean slate, a dream fulfilled, a promising future…a new life.
Oh yeah, she was definitely gonna like it here…
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AN: The Carrows are actually Death Eaters in the books, but I changed it up a bit, obviously. I think they are siblings in the novels, but I made Andromeda up and had her be married to Alecto. Sorry if that confused anyone. It just fit better with my story. Ta-ta for now!