Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This chapter gets serious. Don't worry. The mood picks back up 'round Christmas.

Chapter 10

"Well," huffed Draco.

"Indeed," replied Luna.

Draco shifted the strap on his book bag, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "So, aren't you going to go after her?"

"Oh no," said Luna. "I have class. But you have a free period, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Draco. "How did you know?"

"The little man on your shoulder told me."

Draco glared. "I don't suppose he also told you where Anne went, did he?" He grit his teeth.

"Of course not," said Luna, "he's psychotic, not physic. Besides, I already know where she goes when she's upset; I didn't need him to tell me that."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well where does she go when she's upset?"

"Oh, she goes to an empty room across from the entrance to the Slytherin common room."

"Figures," said Draco.

"Later, Draco!" sang Luna and she skipped away.

Draco began his trek down to the dungeon, grumbling all the way, and slipped into the room Luna had told him about. The room had formerly been a study hall for mixed study groups, but had been abandoned for many years on account of nobody studied anymore—they just had angst. Anne was sitting at a table with her head in her hands. Draco sat next to her.

"Why are you even friends with Potter anyway?" he asked. "It's not like he's that great or anything."

Anne sat up and sighed. "I met him on the train," she began, "and he snickered. I couldn't help myself after that." She began drawing designs in the dust on the table with her finger and sighed again. "And the best part was that he could snicker and still be a good person. I used to think only evil people ever snickered or sneered or were sarcastic and I didn't think I'd ever be able to do those things. He was my inspiration."

"Wow," said Draco, "I didn't know normal people sneered. I thought it was only Slytherins or people whose name began with 's'."

"Yeah, I know," said Anne. She paused and suddenly asked, "Why don't you like Harry?"

"Why should I?" said Draco with a scowl.

"My father doesn't like him, either," said Anne.

"Oh," said Draco and then he lowered his voice, "Is your father a Death Eater, too?"

"Well, sort of," said Anne with a wince.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's complicated," said Anne.

"You can tell me," said Draco.

Anne bit her lip before making her decision and leaning forward to whisper into Draco's ear. When she was finished, he pulled back to look at her properly with wide eyes.

"Really?" he asked incredulously. He narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you. You don't look a bit like him."

Anne rolled her eyes. "That's because I look like my mother," she said.

"Oh yeah? If Voldemort is supposed to be your father, then who is your mother?"

Anne paled. "She's dead," she snapped. "I don't talk about her."

"You're lying."

"Fine," shouted Anne and she jumped up. "You want to know about my mother? My mother was Belladonna Decatur, best friend of Bellatrix LeStrange. After my mom had me, she became weak and she died less than a year later. She died and it was my fault. I made her sick. So shut up and don't talk about my mother to me, you flaming asshole."

Anne gathered her book bag and swept out of the room with the force of a miniature gale. Draco winced.

Three weeks later, Anne still was not speaking to Draco, but then she wasn't really talking to anyone besides Luna anymore. The two were inseparable and Luna tried to cheer up her friend, but nothing could pull Anne out of her horrific mood. One Sunday, late in November, Anne was sitting at the front steps of Hogwarts, waiting for the arrival of her father. She held the note he had sent her loosely in her hand and reread it constantly.

Daughter—

I've arranged to pick you up at Hogwarts for an outing. Expect me at three and dress appropriately for the weather.

Sincerely&etc,

Daddy

Anne shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her body. It was drizzling and decidedly gloomy. When Anne saw her father across the grounds, she stood and swiftly walked to him. She reached him and he put a hand on her shoulder, grabbing her chin with his other hand, and forcing her to look at him.

"No polyjuice this time," he said grimly after gazing into her eyes.

"No," said Anne.

He let her go and took a step away from her. "Come," he said and he turned and began to walk away. Anne followed.

"You continually surprise me," he said.

"I'm sorry," whispered Anne.

He glanced at her sharply. "Don't be," he said.

They passed the gates of Hogwarts and Lord Voldemort grabbed his daughter's hand and apparated her to a cemetery. Anne looked around her and a choking noise escaped her throat.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked. She backed away from him. "Why are you punishing me?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Voldemort.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Anne looked around wildly. "This is what you do with your Death Eaters, isn't it? Bring them to cemeteries, so you can kill them?"

"You're not one of my Death Eaters," hissed Voldemort, grabbing Anne by the wrists. "Stop it," he commanded.

Anne refused to look at him and instead looked over his shoulder, her eyes widening as she took in the headstones.

"I said stop it," hissed Voldemort. Anne's eyes snapped to his face. He held her gaze for one long second before dropping her wrists and taking a step away from her.

"I thought you'd like to see your mother," he said, avoiding her eyes. "Today with me," he amended lamely, "because—" He stopped and couldn't seem to find the words to continue. "Well, because," he finally said.

"Oh," said Anne. She looked at her shoes and said, "Ok."