"Look, I hurt a friend once with a careless lie. I learnt a valuable lesson about lying more convincingly." - Brent Leroy - Corner Gas: Blog River (4.8)

Chapter Seventeen - Confessions and Realizations

After Divination, when lunch finally rolled around, Ankaa wsa just looking for reasons to get away from Blaise. She had sat between Draco and Pansy (something that had upset Pansy greatly, but she had stopped complaining when Ankaa had glared at her). Blaise was sitting directly across from her beside Theodore Nott. The two were discussing their Arithmancy Professor. Blaise hadn't said anything after breakfast, but Ankaa still wanted to keep her distance. Besides, Blaise was not the type of person to flaunt his interests. She supposed that for now, she was safe.

Regardless, Ankaa kept her eyes on the entrance of the Great Hall, looking for her brother. Finally, a few minutes later she spotted him. Ceph was chattering excitedly with his friends, and as soon as he saw her, he waved her over. Raising a brow in wonder, she passed the copy of the Daily Prophet onto Draco before joining her brother.

"Why're you so happy?"

Terence Higgs gave her an ecstatic smile and breathed, "We just had a class with Moody."

Smirking in amusement, Ankaa sat in the empty spot next to her brother. "You alright Higgs?" She asked, "You seem quite smitten with Ol' Mad Eye."

Higgs rolled his eyes. "Just you wait until you have a class with him." He said, "He's brilliant."

"Slightly insane too," Ceph amended, sharing an amused look with his sister. "He performed the Unforgivable Curses in class today. He believes in a more… practical approach to Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ankaa snorted. "That's definitely brilliant, alright. Can't wait until I have a class with him. Do you think—"

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

There was a thunderous roar and everyone was out of their seats. Ankaa followed her brother as he pushed students aside to get a better look. Once they got to the front, Ankaa's jaw dropped. Moody had his wand pointed at a pure white ferret, and with every jerk of his hand, the ferret flew ten feet into the air and landed on the floor with a smack.

"Go get McGonagall," Ceph hissed as he pushed her back into the crowd roughly. Ankaa only nodded, turned, and ran. Luckily, she didn't have to run far. Moody's shout seemed to have echoed around the castle.

"What's the matter?" McGonagall asked, raising a delicate brow.

"Moody," Ankaa breathed, pointing behind her to the Entrance Hall, "He's transfigured Malfoy into a ferret!"

McGonagall's eyes widened comically and she raced ahead of the student and into the crowd. Ankaa could hear her shrieking and scolding Moody. When she finally pushed her way to the front to stand beside Ceph, McGonagall had turned Malfoy back into a boy. His hair was dishevelled and he was lying on the floor. Ankaa could see he was hurt and humiliated.

But Moody wasn't done. He took Malfoy by the elbow to escort him to see Snape. As if turning him into a ferret against his will wasn't enough punishment.

"That's awful," Higgs uttered softly from behind her. He was watching Moody go with a pained expression, no doubt conflicted about his feelings for him as a teacher. Moody was exciting alright, but one could not be sure whether he would turn on them next.

Ceph nodded. "I can't believe he did that."

"Malfoy deserved it," A Gryffindor student spoke up from beside the trio. The guy glared at them and continued, "You didn't hear what he was saying about Weasley's mother."

"And that's a good enough reason to be wrongfully transfigured and smacked around on the concrete now, is it?" Ceph retorted evenly, casting a cool look at the Gryffindor. "Let's turn you into a rat and throw you against the wall in front of all these students, see how you feel."

The Gryffindor boy scoffed, "You're all the same, you deserve it."

"Sod off," Higgs sneered and shoved the boy roughly. Ceph gave the boy a glare before turning to Ankaa.

"I'll have to go to Snape too," He said. "Talk to him after this is over, will you?"

"To Draco?"

"Yeah," Ceph nodded at Higgs to go on. The boy waved at the duo and entered the Great Hall again. Looking to where Moody had dragged their housemate, Ceph muttered, "He really is a piece of work, that one."

Ankaa shook her head. "I'm not looking forward to his classes anymore."

Ceph nodded, a serious look on his face. "I'd suggest you research about Spell Resistance. I have a feeling Moody's practical approach will get out of hand very quickly, and you need to be prepared."

Ankaa sat in the library later that day, surrounded by books upon books that talked about Spell Resistance. With a small sigh, she flipped through Mental Magic: An in Depth Writing on Non-verbal, and Wandless Magic with a Particular Emphasis on Spell Resistance by Riva Eckhart.

Spell resistance is the ability of a witch or wizard to shrug off the main effects of a spell. Though the reader should be advised that not all spells can be fought off (like the Killing Curse). Sacrificial Protection as means of Spell Resistance will not be covered in this book.

For a witch or a wizard to be able to resist a spell, they require the highest amount of mental discipline. Though same are naturally talented at this, others may be able to hone their abilities to master Spell Resistance. For instance, when faced with a nasty spell, it is possible for magic folk to create a mental shield around themselves, much like using Protego to physically shield oneself from a curse or physical entities.

This has been found as the most effective, and perhaps the most difficult, form of Spell Resistance. It is also strongly recommended for this trick to be practiced time after time, as without it the speed and level of resistance will become low.

It is strongly recommended that individuals wanting to perfect Spell Resistance try to perfect Non-Verbal magic before beginning their studies about Spell Resistance. Once non-verbal magic has been perfected, it becomes infinitely easier to cast a shield. The next step would be to practice holding up a shield while also casting offensive spells. With this in mind, the reader must also recall that mental discipline is of the utmost importance. Much like when it comes to wandless magic and non-verbal magic, mastery of one's emotions is also highly crucial. The slightest change in equilibrium can result in a catastrophe.

The following case study shows the negative outcomes of a lack of mental discipline. Erim Lornan, a wizard from South America—

Ankaa shut the book and placed it upon the ever growing pile. Every book she had checked so far told her about non-verbal spells being the crucial step before Spell Resistance. Her first class with Moody was this Thursday, which wasn't nearly enough time to practice and perfect non-verbal spells, much less Spell Resistance.

Finally, after a while, Ankaa decided she had had enough. She packed up her things and slowly started putting her books back. As she was leaving, her attention was drawn to a familiar bushy haired girl pouring over several books and furiously scribbling onto a piece of parchment. How had she already got homework? Classes had only just started.

"What're you up to now, Granger?" Ankaa sighed in exasperation as she sat down in front of the girl. Hermione didn't even bother to look up from her work.

"House elves," She mumbled distractedly. "They're in Hogwarts… S.P.E.W."

"Spew?"

Hermione looked up then, furious. "Not spew! S.P.E.W! It stands for—"

"I don't care what it stands for," Ankaa interrupted coolly. "What I'm more interested in is the fact that you look like a crazed lunatic. Moreso than usual, I think."

Hermione brushed a hand over her hair self consciously. But then, she frowned. "What were you doing here?"

"Same as you," Ankaa shrugged. "Researching."

"On?"

"On how to get rid of chipmunk teeth, would you like to know?" Ankaa retorted hotly. "You ask so many questions, for Merlin's sake."

"And you don't answer any of them." Granger glared back, affronted about the indirect remark about her teeth.

"I don't have to."

"I answered yours," Granger stated, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at the girl. Ankaa fixed her indifferent stare on the Muggleborn girl, raising an eyebrow as if she was amused.

"I never asked you to." Ankaa said, "You answer because you want to; because you value my company."

Granger rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted up in a slight smile. "Of course," she drawled, "Not a day goes by that I don't miss your company. We should have a sleepover and paint each other's nails and do each other's hair."

Ankaa snorted. "Let's not get carried away. We'll start small." She reached into her bag. "Like this. It's a letter for Potter, pass it on to him will you?"

Granger raised a brow. "You want me to pass on your love letter?"

"Do you want me to strangle you?" Ankaa asked with a sweet smile that dropped a second later. "It's from my mother. She obviously can't write to him directly, so it seems I will be running between the two."

Granger nodded and placed the letter with her things. The two sat in silence for a small moment, in which Granger continued to play with the quill in her hands. She looked at the girl sitting across from her. Ankaa was leaning back in her seat casually, reading through one of the books Hermione had selected to research house elf history.

"Can I ask you something?" Granger asked softly.

"I can hardly stop you, can I?" Ankaa did not look up from the book as she turned a page.

"Do you really hate me?"

Ankaa looked up from her book then. Hermione squirmed under her gaze and raised a brow waiting for her to answer. Slowly, Ankaa shook her head.

"I don't hate you." She muttered after casting a look around. "I dislike you more times than I can count, but really that's me with everyone."

"Not with Fred and George," Hermione provided somewhat eagerly. "I've seen you with them. You're a lot happier."

Ankaa raised a brow. "And you think that makes them special?" She laughed shortly, "If you really noticed things, you would see that everyone smiles when they're around those two."

Hermione fell silent again. Ankaa had a point. For a moment, Hermione really thought she had noticed something about the Slytherin girl. But as usual, Ankaa was one step ahead of her. Hermione pretended to write something down for the sake of buying some time. She felt that talking too much at once would drive Ankaa away, so it was best to slow things down with pauses so she wasn't overwhelmed with social contact.

"What about you and Fred then?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "Ever since you had that argument on the first day—"

"Not sure." Ankaa shrugged carelessly. "Fred's Fred. He's usually hot headed and annoying, eagerly jumping to conclusions. Besides, he's just mad I told him he wasn't as great as magic as he thought he was."

"I'm plenty great at magic, thank you." Fred was standing behind her, glaring down at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

Ankaa turned back to her book after rolling his eyes. "If you were," She said, "You wouldn't need to say that to me."

"I only said it because you doubted me." Fred retorted, "It's insulting that you think we can't win the Triwizard Tournament."

Ankaa laughed, putting Hermione's book away. She stood and faced him and smiled at him mockingly, "Win the Tournament? Fred, you can't even enter it. And I can bet on that since I know you're not smart enough to best Dumbledore."

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth together. The two stood there for a few seconds, glaring maliciously at one another. Ankaa heard Hermione's chair scrape the floor as she stood up in a flurry as well.

"Is that what you think?" Fred muttered, "That I'm not smart enough or good enough at magic to compare to you and your mates?"

Ankaa paused. It was the truth, wasn't it? Fred and George were good at performing magic in school but they were definitely not the offensive magic types. So if she really was comparing them to herself, they would not be able to compete. Shrugging she started, "Well, yes. But—"

Fred just sneered at her, "Well sorry for wasting your time then. I'm sure you have more powerful friends to be making." He turned quickly and walked out of the library. Ankaa watched him go, and not once did he turn back. Usually, he did, to throw one last remark over his shoulder or to make a funny face, but he did nothing this time. Ankaa frowned.

Behind her, Ankaa heard Granger let out a great sigh before plopping back onto her chair. When Ankaa turned back to her, Granger was rubbing her temples slowly, a pained look on her face.

"What?"

Granger just shot her a look before muttering, "You're hopeless."

The next day as she was leaving the Common Room, Ceph pulled her aside and told her Dumbledore wanted to speak with her. When she raised a brow, Ceph rolled his eyes impatiently.

"It's about your training, idiot!" He cried, pushing her out of the common room so she could get started right away.

Ankaa slowly made her way to the Headmaster's office, desperately hoping that something would happen and she would not have to go. But then she remembers that Ceph would not give her Apparition lessons if she did not learn to use her Inner Eye. Ankaa mentally rolled her eyes (all three of them) at the absurdity of the thought. Once she got upstairs, she knocked on the door.

"Come in, Miss. Rhyther." Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, smiling patiently at her. Ankaa walked forward and settled herself in one of the chairs before him at his request. "I wanted to let you know that Madam Vablatsky shall be arriving any moment now. I hope you don't mind but I decided to hold your first meeting here."

"That's alright sir," Ankaa smiled, "Whatever works for you and Madam Vablatsky is alright with me. I just want to learn."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "That's the spirit!" he beamed, "Would you like a Lemon Drop?"

However, before she could say anything, the door to the office flew open. A woman sauntered inside, a wide smile on her lips. Her eyes were wrinkled as she smiled a genuine smile at the Headmaster. She was wearing a large black hat that somewhat covered her face, but she titled it to the side the moment she saw Dumbledore. She was wearing a grey dress that went past her knees, and a black shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. Ankaa watched as the witch threw her greying hair over her shoulder and strode forward.

"Dumbledore!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms wide as she walked towards the man and shook his hands. "It is a pleasure to see you again." Ankaa noticed she had a slight accent to her words. She could not pinpoint it, however. "This must be the girl, then?" The lady was scrutinizing her, pursuing her lips as if she did not like what she was seeing. Her brown eyes narrowed at the girl's form. Ankaa stood up as well, holding out her hand.

"This is Miss Ankaa Rhyther." Dumbledore introduced her, "She is the daughter of Maya Archer if you remember her from a few years ago? She married Henry Rhyther and seems to have passed the gift on to her daughter. And Ankaa, this is Madam Cassandra Vabltasky."

"Henry Rhyther, you say?" Vablatsky mused, looking to the Headmaster. "I could have sworn she married that other bloke, the one she was always fighting with?"

"Sounds counterintuitive," Ankaa mumbled, "Marrying someone you fight with."

"Ah, but my dear girl," the lady gave her a wide smile, "That is what makes a marriage. The passion! And you understand it well, don't you? Didn't you just have a lover's spat with your man?"

Ankaa barely concealed her affronted look. Lover's spat? With Fred Weasley?

"You must be mistaken, Madame Vabltasky," She said with as much politeness as she could muster, "I don't have a boyfriend." Discussing her nonexistent love life in front of the Headmaster was perhaps the most embarrassing thing she had to face. And add the fact that Dumbledore looked like the news had stabbed him in the heart as if Fred and Ankaa dating was natural order and he merely expected it to happen.

Vablatsky examined Ankaa through narrowed eyes. The girl was polite enough, but even Cassandra could tell she was only acting. She was definately a smart girl, and if trained well, she would be the best Seer. Ankaa was also spiteful, which could pose a problem. She was filled with pride; Cassandra could easily pinpoint it with the younger girl's posture and stance. Cassandra could sense that her talent would develop rather quickly, given the fact that Ankaa seemed like the type of girl who would work on something until it was perfect.

"A perfectionist," Cassandra mumbled, glancing away from the girl. "I'm glad the ability has passed to her, Dumbledore. I am certain she will be able to perfect it."

Dumbledore nodded, a serene smile still on his face. "I had no doubt of that." Dumbledore said, "It seems it has already begun, Cassandra. Miss Rhyther has had some visions concerning Sirius Black and one of the students here, Harry Potter."

"Visions?" Cassandra raised a brow.

"Well, they started as dreams." Ankaa told the Older Seer, "I wasn't sure at the time they were visions. I haven't had any since then."

"That's quite alright," Cassandra smiled, and behind her, Dumbledore nodded as well. Cassandra motioned for Ankaa to sit back down, and she sat in the other chair next to her. "Seers are gifted with what we call, the Inner Eye. For practised Seers such as I, visions are constantly being shared from the Inner Eye. For you, however, since her Inner Eye is not yet trained, you have to wait until you are asleep to get these visions."

Dumbledore spoke, "Think of it this way, Miss Rhyther. Your brain is constantly functioning when you are awake, carrying out processes for you while you sit in class or while you are eating in the Great Hall. At this time, without proper training, your Inner Eye cannot function properly seeing as your brain has impaired its function. Therefore, it will wait until your body is at rest and show you a vision. Perhaps you will have already noticed that these visions are a lot more vivid than dreams people usually have. That is because your Inner Eye wants you to remember these when you wake up."

"How did you do it then?" Ankaa raised a brow at Cassandra, "You don't need to sleep for your visions."

Cassandra nodded. "After a while, you will start to recognize the signs that your Inner Eye is trying to communicate through you. Visions are extremely rare, even for Seers. Usually, we tell prophecies. Your Divination teacher—what was her name again, Albus?"

"Trelawney, Sybil Trelawney."

"Trelawney's Inner Eye isn't as developed as a Seer would like it to be," Cassandra continued, nose scrunching in slight distaste, "That is why her visions are sometimes faulty if she has any at all. I think she would have more prophecies than visions. You, on the other hand, show a talent for visions."

"Well, she did say he was born mid-winter," Ankaa mused, pursing her lips. "He's born in July though." From the corner of her eye, she saw Dumbledore raise a brow. When she turned to him though, he had schooled his expression back into a serene smile.

Cassandra stood with a deep breath, "You will have to work hard in order to develop this skill. Your Inner Eye will give you signs that a vision is to be shared with you, and we will have to work together to deduce what these signs might be. Sometimes, if the vision is an important one you will see it regardless of whether you are asleep or not. Your Inner Eye can force visions it deems important for your fate."

Ankaa frowned. "But if it's fate, what use are my visions? You can't change fate, can you?"

Cassandra paused, trying to find a way to explain it to the girl. "That's a tricky subject," She said finally, "One that we will explore when you will begin your training with me. We will be training twice a week and together we will work on developing your Inner Eye. A gift like this cannot be wasted. And the fact that you are a hardworking student, I suspect it should not take us more than a month to train you. The rest is obviously dependant on you."

Ankaa nodded tiredly and stood with a smile. "Thank you Madam Vablatsky, Professor Dumbledore."

On Thursday, there was a slight air of excitement when Ankaa walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. On the Gryffindor table, she could see Potter listening intently to Fred and George's recount of what it was like to be in class with Moody. When she reached the Slytherin table, Draco pulled down to sit beside him.

"I talked to Zabini," Draco whispered, "He knows you know."

"Know about what?" Ankaa asked as she scooped up some jam to put on her toast.

Draco raised a brow, "He knows that you know that he likes you." Draco paused, "That sounded overly complicated." Shaking his head, he continued, "I told him to stop being so obvious, that it doesn't work well on you and that he might be creeping you out."

"What!" Ankaa cried. Draco shushed her quickly. She glared at him exasperation and whispered, "Why in Merlin's name would you do that! You don't acknowledge things like that, you idiot! I was going to ignore him until he realized I didn't like him like that, or until he moved on. Whatever comes first."

Draco deadpanned, "Oh yeah? And how was that working for you? Because you're not that one who has to live in a dorm with him and have him go on about how you were too busy to not hang out with him."

Ankaa groaned, "Why is he so needy."

Draco smirked. "You should be delighted, shouldn't you?" He elbowed her lightly, "Your charms have finally worked on someone at least."

Ankaa did not respond. She picked up her bag and pushed her plate of uneaten breakfast away. She wanted to get out of the Hall before Blaise arrived. Quickly, she muttered, "I'll see you in class. Save me a spot."

"I'm sitting with Crabbe," Draco smirked.

Ankaa rolled her eyes and smacked him over the head. "You'll save me a spot if you know what's good for you."

She made her way out of the Hall then, quickly walking as far away from it as she could. When she got to the DADA room, she was surprised to find Blaise leaning against the wall already. When her shoes scuffed against the floor, he looked up at her with a small, tired smile.

"What're you doing here?" Ankaa asked, standing further away from him than she usually did.

"Waiting for you," He answered, moving away from the wall. He scratched his neck in a rare gesture of nervousness and said, "I knew Draco would tell you and you'd try to run. Listen—"

"Blaise, I don't like you like that."

Blaise's hand fell away from his neck. He was still giving her a small smile, nodding as if he had known all along that she would say that. Pursing his lips, he uttered softly, "I knew that."

Ankaa nodded slowly too, not looking at him. The sombre air would not have bothered her previously, but she knew that things had changed. You can't expect things to go back to normal after something like this. Blaise and Ankaa had had a very carefree friendship, and she would never fully open up to him in that way again. There would always be an air of awkwardness around them.

"I knew that," Blaise repeated a little louder this time, scratching his neck. "That's alright. I hope this won't effect—"

"No," Ankaa lied. "It won't effect our friendship."

Blaise smiled at her. It was a lot softer than his usual smile, one that Ankaa had never seen before. And the fact that it was aimed at her was a lot more unsettling. She wished he would get angry, so she could get angry and shout at him for putting her in this position in the first place. Who told him to start liking her? This was all his fault.

"I appreciate that," Blaise said, "You lying, I mean. That's why I like you, you know."

"Blaise—"

He held up his hands, "I know, sorry. But it's not just something I can turn on and off, I hope you understand that." He moved closer to her, taking his wrist in her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Whether you like me or not, I'm still your friend, aren't I?"

Ankaa nodded hesitantly.

"Then tell me what's wrong?" He asked, "The past few days, you've been a little sad. Did something happen?"

A lot happened, but she couldn't tell him that now could she? Blaise was nice enough, but he wouldn't understand. For a moment, she wondered why she couldn't just tell him. The Golden Trio knew, and she had only just talked them a handful of times. Blaise was someone she had basically grown up with. Why couldn't she tell him?

"No," She answered him. "Nothing's happened."

"Are we interrupting?"

Both Slytherins turned to see the Weasley Twins and Lee Jordan standing at the end of the hallway. Ankaa jerked her wrist out of Blaise's grasp and took a step backwards.

"No," She said. "What're you doing here?"

"Class," Fred answered with a lot more bite in his words than usual, "So we can get smart and better at magic."

Ankaa frowned. George did not say anything, and Ankaa knew that Fred had told him of what she had said. Even George seemed a little mad at her. Jordan didn't seem to know what was going on, but he still stood by his friends and glared dutifully at the Slytherin girl.

"I didn't mean it like that." Ankaa rolled her eyes, "If you had just let me finish—"

"Then you would have told me how pathetic you think we really are." Fred continued, "Thanks for letting us know what you really think of us."

"Stop being dramatic, you moron," Ankaa spat. "I just meant you we're good at offensive fighting. I didn't say you weren't smart."

"Oh yeah? You had me fooled."

"You asked for it!" Ankaa scoffed, "You wanted me to be honest!"

Fred just rolled his eyes and walked past her. Jordan followed him after glaring at the girl once more. George lingered behind, coming to stand right before the girl. He gave her a small smile.

"I believe you," He told her. "He's just mad. He'll cool down eventually."

Ankaa raised a brow. "And I'll have to hear his taunts until then?"

George laughed, "I suppose." Glancing back at Blaise, who was watching them with keen interest, George leaned forward and whispered, "He had actually come to apologize at the library you know. But I think you both just misinterpreted some things and it all got out of hand. It'll be fine in time though."

Ankaa nodded. George and Ankaa shared a smile before he walked down the hall and continued on to his classes as well. Ankaa leaned against the wall. It would only be a matter of minutes until everyone made their way to DADA class. Blaise was still standing frozen in bewilderment. When he turned back to Ankaa, there was a slight hint of betrayal in his eyes.

"Since when are you friends with those Bloodtraitors?"

Ankaa glared at him, "None of your business."

"No, it is my business," Blaise scowled at her. "That's why you've been distant haven't you? Because you had a fight with Fred Weasley? Is that why you don't like me? Because you've got a thing for scum?"

Ankaa ground her teeth together and warned him, "Blaise, if you don't shut up, I will hex you."

Blaise glared right back, "I won't shut up, because I deserve to know. You like him don't you?" He was referring to Fred. "Why else would you be bothered by a little fight? You normally take pride in torturing people. You torture me every day."

He was right. Why was she so particularly bothered that Fred had stopped talking to her? Why did she feel a slight burning in her chest when she saw him chatting with Angelina Johnson, making her laugh and looking at her with the most adoration she had ever seen?

"Didn't you just have lover's spat with your man?"

"I can't believe this," Blaise said to himself, "You like him? Of all the people in this school, Fred Weasley?"

Ankaa ran a hand over her face, exceptionally tired. Picking up her bag, she started walking away. Blaise was still shouting at her, but she paid him no mind. She couldn't even quite hear him at this point. There was an odd sort of buzzing in her ears. She walked past a hoard of students, and someone grabbed her arm.

"Where are you going?" It was Draco. "I'll save you a seat, don't worry," He gave her a teasing smile.

"Don't bother," Ankaa muttered. "I'm not feeling well. I think I'm going back to sleep."

Draco blinked in confusion. He regarded her silently for a moment, taking in her slightly pale face. Nodding slowly, he let go of her arm. He gave her a smile, "I'll take notes for you, don't worry."

She gave him a smile, "Thanks." She walked quickly to the Slytherin Dormitories. She didn't care that she was missing Moody's first class. Her heart was beating much faster than usual. The moment she got back, she threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Ankaa stayed like that for quite some time, at least that's what it felt like.

She liked Fred Weasley.

How could that have happened?

Notes:

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