Disclaimer: See first chapter
A/N: In honour of the 30 year anniversary of Anna's murder.
March 27th 1976. Gryffindor Common Room 01:44.
The fire burned low in the grate, the ambers casting a dim glow over the shining Snitch as it hovered millimeters away from James' spectacles, almost taunting him with its proximity.
The sound of its fluttering wings and the scratch of quill on parchment broke the deathly silence.
"What are you still doing up?" James asked, his eyes not leaving his prized possession.
Anna Lovett did not look up from her Divination homework. "I'm baking cupcakes, Potter. What do you think I'm doing? " She clicked her tongue. "What are you doing up?"
"Can't sleep," said James, his fingers idly clasping the Snitch and pocketing it. "My insomnia's playing up."
Anna rolled up her parchment. "I set myself a goal of a thousand words today so I wouldn't have to do any tomorrow. I think I may have overestimated my abilities."
James smiled. "What is it anyway? What are you writing?"
"My Divination homework."
James' eyes widened. "We had homework?"
Anna returned his smile. "Chill out. For Tuesday."
"I'll make mine up."
She clicked her tongue. "You're belittling an art form. Divination is very highly respected."
James raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"It just is."
"I'll take your word for it, Lovett. Are you going to bed?"
Anna shook her head. "Don't feel like sleeping. I'm a little overtired."
"Me too." He sighed deeply. "It's starting to get to me."
Anna took the seat opposite him. "Well, what could be stopping you sleeping? Is there something on your mind? Maybe you're not doing enough activity? I notice that on Quidditch nights you're in bed by eight."
James nodded. "Because I'm so damn tired all the time and because I'm so damn tired all the time, I worry about why, which keeps me up."
Anna winced. "Catch twenty-two." She leant back in the chair and made herself comfortable. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Bloody hell. I'd forgotten about that. Wow. You are good at this psychic shit."
Anna laughed. "Much as I'd like to agree, I have to admit that I was shopping for your present with Remus last weekend."
James leant forward in his seat. "Go on, spill. What's he got me?"
Anna smirked and wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Come on. Moony's presents are internationally acclaimed."
She laughed. "It is pretty good. Very you."
"Tell me?"
"No."
They fell into an almost companionable silence and Anna was forced to admit that while there was something about Peter that just rubbed her up the wrong way and Sirius was a total bastard, James was very much like Remus. Finally she understood why they got on so well.
"You know, you're not the twat I thought you were."
James grinned. "You're pretty cool too."
Anna raised her eyebrows. "Tell me something I don't know."
James laughed. "A girl after my own heart." He patted the seat beside him and held out his palm. "Read it for me. I only ever get Sirius and he bullshits his way through it making up a load of shit about cows."
Anna laughed. "And the plague? Yeah. He did that to me too. Let's have a look." She took hold of his hand an squinted in the dim light. She winced.
"What?" James frowned. "I'm not really going to be a farmer, am I?"
"You have a short lifeline."
James snatched his hand back and looked at the lines of his palm. "How short is 'short'?"
Anna shrugged. "It's longer than mine. My mother's a Muggle and even she's been predicting my death for years. Chill out. It hasn't happened yet." Taking his hand back, she traced his marriage line. "Monogamous marriage. That's good. It ends in death. That's good too."
James looked horrified.
"'Til death do us part," she quoted. "It means that the marriage won't end in divorce. One vertical slash. That's one child. A boy."
"A boy?" James grinned. "What's his name?"
Anna merely looked at him. "I'm good, Potter, but I'm not that good. Wow. You've got a lot of money coming to you. Look. See this line? It runs from the bottom of your thumb all the way to your little finger. That's inheritance. Your health line is missing so you're unlikely to have any health problems. This is looking good, Potter."
"James."
Anna blushed. "Sorry." She cleared her throat and continued. "Your fate line, this one here," she traced it for him, "breaks a lot. Your life is dictated to you by forces you cannot control, but it crosses your lifeline so your friends offer you support, but beware. That line also breaks. You have a Judas Iscariot in your midst."
James shook his head. "It's wrong."
"James, trust me."
He smirked. "I'd better not knowing what I know now. You could be Judith Iscariot."
Anna laughed. "Seriously. Think twice. Your head line has several crosses through it. You have momentous decisions to make but it is also straight so you have innate practicality in your favour."
She leant back and surveyed his palm. "Fire," she said simply. "You have a rectangular palm and very short fingers."
James frowned. "Is that bad?"
Anna shrugged. "That depends. Though I am very surprised that you are able to connect on the level that you do with Remus."
"Why?"
"He is water. He is creative, perceptive and introverted. You are stubborn, spontaneous and extroverted." She smirked. "I'd very much like to read Black's. I think I'd like to piece together how you three are friends." She got to her feet. "I'm sorry but I have to go to sleep now. Goodnight and I hope you have a great day tomorrow…well, today. You'll love your present."
James listened to the fire crackle and her footsteps on the stairs, staring intently at his palm. A traitor? A short life? A marriage to end in death? On the whole, he thought, he would much rather have had Sirius pronounce him to be a farmer.
