Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Twelve

The new professor was cheerful yet commonplace, however, everyone seemed to like her despite her seeming normalcy. She was, after all, very approachable and made the subject seem enjoyable even to those who disliked it.

"I despise her," spat Anne to Luna after class.

"Really?" said Luna. "I rather thought she reminded me of you except older and before you became depressed."

"Depressed? I'm not depressed," said Anne with a scowl.

"Oh, you're right," agreed Luna. "You probably just got bit by a Dreenalcy. I wouldn't be surprised if your aura was completely black by now."

"I'm going to the library," said Anne sullenly.

"Ok," said Luna. "I'm going to go meet Vincent. He's madly in love with me."

Anne slunked into the library and disappeared into one of the many forgotten stacks in the back. She was quietly perusing the shelves when she heard voices.

"Harry, we can't give up; not now."

"Did I say we should give up?"

"Not in so many words. But still, we can't relax our guard."

"Hermione, I'm doing the best I can, but I can't study for NEWTS and find a way to destroy Voldemort at the same time."

Anne froze.

"Harry, we've had seven years to figure out a way to get rid of him."

"Three, actually."

"Fine, since fourth year, you're right, whatever." Hermione huffed. "Look," she said, "Forgot our studies. At least one of us has to focus completely on Voldemort."

"What?! Are you under the Imperius?"

"Calm down, Harry. Professor Dumbledore has arranged for me to take NEWTS over Christmas and then I'll be apprenticing with McGonagall. I'll have all the time in the world to figure out how to get rid of that bastard."

"Hermione, that's bloody brilliant! When did you—"

Anne dropped her book bag with a thud and tore down the aisle, away from the pair.

"What was that?" Anne distantly heard Hermione say as she sprinted out of the library and toward Dumbledore's office. Anne was barely able to see as the tears ran down her face and it was for this reason that she unwittingly ran straight into Dumbledore.

"Good heavens, child. Is the apocalypse upon us?" he said.

"They're going to kill him," she blubbered thickly.

"Kill who?" asked Dumbledore, his voice deepening with worry. "Is it Harry? Is Harry alright?"

"No," said Anne, pushing herself away from him. "It's not him," she spat.

Dumbledore handed her a handkerchief with a flourish while pursing his lips in thought. "Hmmmm," he said. "Is it Professor Snape?"

Anne shook her head.

"Hagrid? Professor Vector? Filch? Dobby? Is it one of the students?"

To all these Anne shook her head.

"Well, who is it, girl?" Dumbledore finally asked.

Anne paused and her lip quivered. "My daddy!" she finally said, sobbing into the handkerchief.

"Well of course, you silly thing," said Dumbledore. "He's the bad guy."

Anne sobbed louder.

"There, there," said Dumbledore. "You'll get over it. Have a lemon drop?"

Anne pushed the offered treat away and turned, running to the dungeons. She burst into Snape's office.

"You have to do something!" she demanded. Her face was slick with snot and tears and the light from the candles reflected off her face, making her look like a crazed, demonic angel.

Snape looked up from his book of romantic poetry and sighed heavily. He slowly removed his slim, silver spectacles from his nose and spoke, leaning back in his chair.

"What, exactly, would you have me do, Miss Smith?"

"You can't let them kill my father," she said.

Snape frowned lightly. "Are you only now figuring this out?" he asked. "You're in enemy territory, Miss Smith. Most within the castle are praying for his imminent death."

Anne looked at him with her mouth falling into a delicate 'o'. She looked at him for one long moment before breaking the silence.

"What do mean, 'you'? 'You're in enemy territory.' Why didn't you say, 'we'?" she asked, beginning to look stricken, her hands shaking.

"Don't be silly," snapped Snape. "You know which side I'm on."

Anne's lower lip quivered again, but she lifted her chin bravely. "He's not all bad. He had me, didn't he?"

Snape didn't say anything for a long while, looking at her with his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Finally one, long elegant hand scooped up the book he had set on his desk and one, long, elegant thumb flipped the cover open. He held the book open for a single moment before turning his gaze to it.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Smith," he said.

Anne grinned brilliantly. "Thank you, Professor," she said and she exited swiftly, closing the door softly behind her. She turned around and nearly walked right into Draco.

"Merlin," he said. "What happened to you? You look like a drowned rat."

Anne frowned.

"Uh, that's not what I meant. I meant, uh, rats are beautiful? No, uh—"

Anne smiled and shook her head. "Shut up, Draco, and walk me to supper."

"Oh, ok," he said.

"You don't want my father to die, do you, Draco?" asked Anne while threading her arm through Draco's.

"Er, no," he began, pulling at his collar uncomfortably, "no, of course not."

"Good. There are so few of us," said Anne, looking up at Draco's face, smiling pleasantly.

Draco looked down at Anne and without realizing it, stopped in his tracks. "Do you," he paused. "Do you want to see the Slytherin common room?"

Anne beamed at him. "Do I?" she said. "Do dragons fly?"

Draco smiled back at her and began leading her back into the dungeons.

"I think you'll like," he said conversationally.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," affirmed Anne. "Green's my favorite color."

"Really?" said Draco. "I've always favored blue. I almost got sorted into Ravenclaw, you know."

"Isn't it sad we can't be sorted by what our favorite color is?"

Draco looked confused. "But that's so arbitrary," he said. "Like getting sorted based on your dominant hand or whether you're a morning person or not."

"I know," nodded Anne sagely. "Or like getting sorted based on what your personality is like."

Draco just looked at her and blinked.

"Oh, there it is!" exclaimed Anne. "The entrance."

She released Draco's arm and ran ahead. She fairly pranced in front of the entrance as she waited for Draco to arrive and grinned at him widely when he finally stood next to her.

"I've never been inside," she said breathlessly. "Except I've seen glimpses, of course, watching people come in and out."

Draco said loudly and clearly, "Bullocks."

Anne gasped and looked at him sadly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"It's the password," he explained, tugging the portrait open.

"Oh," said Anne as much as a way of expressing her understanding as expressing her excitement at finally fulfilling her one goal in life.

"This is it," said Draco, "the Slytherin common room."