"Come back baby, stay in my head,

I don't want to lose you from me,

But you're drifting from me instead."

- Come Back by David O'Dowda

Chapter Thirty-Three – Umbitch

The next morning, Ankaa awoke with a serious feeling of dread in her stomach. She was not looking forward to classes at all, despite the fact that she usually enjoyed them. As much as she had tried to forget her vision from the day before, every time she closed her eyes she was launched back into the same sight. The vision would repeat itself, and every time Ankaa would remain frozen in the face of her brother's murderer.

She tried to console herself by thinking that it was merely a vision. Even if she could have acted, it would have no effect on Voldemort. A smaller part of her, however, kept nagging her about it. A small part of her chalked up the inability to act as fear.

And perhaps it was right.

Ankaa would be a fool to say she was not afraid of Voldemort. She had watched him take down her brother in the blink of an eye, a wizard whom she personally knew to be highly skilled at duelling. Ankaa knew if Voldemort was aware of her gifts as a Seer, he would waste no time in trying to acquire her talents. Ankaa also knew that once she refused, he would not hesitate to kill her.

Rolling over in her bed, Ankaa turned to look out the window. It was a clear day, with abundant sunlight pouring in. With an angry sigh, Ankaa willed herself out of bed and started to get ready for the day. Pansy was already up and about, carefully applying makeup.

"Morning," Pansy mumbled, barely looking at the other girl as she searched through her hoards of boxes for the right kind of blush.

"You think we'll have Umbridge today?" Daphne questioned from her bed as Ankaa leaned against the door, brushing her teeth.

"Most likely," Pansy turned to look at the other two girls, "And even if we don't I'm sure we'll hear about it from the others."

"What d'you reckon she'll be like?"

Ankaa rinsed her mouth before speaking. "She's horrendous," the girl muttered, changing into her uniform as quickly as she could. "She's competent enough at magic, I suppose, but I don't think she's qualified to teach."

"None of the people Dumbledore's asked to be Professors are," Pansy remarked, smirking at Ankaa.

Ankaa did not respond. Instead, she picked up her bag and headed downstairs, telling the others that she would meet them in the Great Hall. She made her way down the hall to the Portrait Room. Making sure no one was around, she quickly made her way inside.

Unfortunately for her, Mopsus was not in his portrait. Ankaa's shoulders slumped in defeat as she glanced around at the other portraits. Most of them were up and about and smiled at her.

"He'll be back soon." Ankaa turned to see Eleanora's portrait. The woman was holding a different book this time and gave her a small smile. "You can wait here if you'd like."

"Oh… No, that's alright," Ankaa glanced back at the empty portrait. "I've got to get going—I'll be late for class."

Ankaa did not know why she came down to see Mopsus, especially when she had nothing in mind to talk to him about. She hadn't been practicing as much as she should have over the summer. Her mother's journals had been helpful, but not nearly as much as she would have liked them to be. Every time Ankaa tried to concentrate, she saw the same scene over and over again in her head.

The graveyard where Ceph was killed just would not leave her.

Her stomach turned uncomfortably as she recalled the moment once more. She had thought that the two months of break would be enough to at least wrap her head around the fact that Ceph would not be returning. Being back at Hogwarts was even worse than she had imagined it would be.

"Once I leave, you'll be alone."

Ankaa swallowed uncomfortably, the feeling of loneliness doubling. For a moment, she debated writing to Remus, but she could not put the feeling into words. The crippling sense of loss, the desperation of wanting to see her brother smile again, was far too much for her to handle.

As Ankaa rounded the corner and headed towards the Great Hall, she took a deep breath. Things would be different now. There was no Ceph, Henry was busy trying to keep Voldemort off her trail, Maya and Sirius were fighting for the Order… Everything had changed.

Everything… except a scowling Professor Snape.

"You're late," He drawled as she approached him. Once she was close enough, Snape handed her the piece of parchment in his hand with a severe frown. "A wonderful way to begin the semester, Miss Rhyther."

"It's only breakfast sir," Ankaa muttered disinterestedly as she scanned over her schedule, "I had no idea you were so concerned for my well being."

"Get to class," Snape deadpanned, wasting no time as he turned around and strutted off and out of the Hall.

Ankaa rolled her eyes before turning and making her way to her friends. She still had a few minutes before she had to leave. And glancing down at her schedule, she was in no hurry to get to History of Magic. She saw Blaise scowling at his schedule as well, muttering something to Draco that caused the other boy to laugh.

"… seriously beyond atrocious," Blaise was saying when Ankaa settled next to him. "I can't believe you're still taking it."

"Is he talking about Divination again?" Ankaa asked as she buttered a piece of toast half-heartedly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "But of course he is," he continued, "Blaise is continuously surprised, year after year, that you and I continue to take Divination. I can't understand it though; you should know by now Blaise."

"I know," said the other boy, "Still doesn't change the fact that I think you two are wasting your time with that class."

Ankaa subtly ignored the two boys as she took a bite of her toast. She spotted Angelina Johnson, looking as elegant as ever, walking up to Harry and talking to him briskly. With a gloomy frown, Ankaa considered what she might look like at this moment in comparison to the Golden Gryffindor. Ankaa had dark circles under her eyes, thanks to the little to no sleep she had gotten the night before. Little Miss Perfect, on the other hand, was just about glowing.

With a discontented sigh, Ankaa turned away. Thankfully, the incoming owls were enough to distract her. Zeus, Ceph's—well, not her—owl landed elegantly in front of her. He offered her his leg, and she unwrapped the string to see the couple of letters she had.

As Zeus helped himself to some of the bread on her plate, Ankaa looked over at the Gryffindor table. Harry was looking at her, and then at the letters in her hand. Beside him, Fred and George were scanning over Ronald's schedule. Fred and George said something that made Harry flush in embarrassment, and he looked at Ankaa quickly. With a surprisingly subtle nod, he got up and headed out of the hall with his bag.

Ankaa cast one look around her, making sure no student on her table was paying attention. Blaise and Draco were still arguing over Divination, and Pansy and Daphne were off to the side discussing some headline from the Daily Prophet. Umbridge, who Ankaa was keenly trying to keep an eye on, was busy in a conversation with Professor Sprout, looking far too displeased.

"I'll see you in class," Ankaa muttered quickly, scooping up her backpack and heading out of the hall. Unbeknownst to her, another pair of eyes watched her retreat carefully.

"Oh, she looks horrible…" Hermione commented quietly, watching Ankaa's retreating form.

"Why?" Fred asked quickly, "What's wrong?"

Hermione raised a brow. "Well, she doesn't talk to me much," She said quietly, "but I can imagine it's being back at Hogwarts. It's probably bringing back memories of Ceph…"

George nodded in understanding. "Where'd Harry go?"

Outside, Harry walked ahead of Ankaa by a few steps. Once they rounded their History of Magic classroom, and the hallway was relatively empty, Harry turned to Ankaa. He wasn't the most perceptive of people, but even he could tell that she was drained of energy.

"Are you alright?" The question slipped out of his mouth before he had a moment to reconsider. Harry was sure that Ankaa would glare at him, and snap at him to leave her alone or mind his own business. But to his surprise, she just gave him a tired look before fishing a letter out of her backpack.

"It's from Maya." She muttered, "It's pretty thick too, so have fun with that."

Harry nodded. The two moved away from each other as a few Ravenclaw students made their way past the duo, laughing jovially. Once they had left, and the sound of their ringing laughter lessened, Harry turned back to the Slytherin girl.

"You didn't answer my question."

Ankaa stayed the way she was; leaning against the wall, her head pressed against the wall, eyes closed. She knew Harry was turned towards her completely, genuinely concerned about what her answer would be. She opened her mouth, ready to lie to him. But for some reason, she couldn't. And so she turned towards him, looking at him critically.

"Why are you so concerned?"

"You're my… friend." Harry said, giving her a small smile. "And I think, out of everyone here, you're the person who understands most what I'm going through."

"Do I really?"

"You're missing Ceph—you keep forgetting that he's not coming back. You probably keep going back to the scene at the graveyard—yeah, I know you probably saw it—and no matter how hard you try to sleep, your dreams turn to nightmares."

He was right. He was exactly right. The silence in the hallway did nothing to help her. Her heartbeat was ringing in her ears, and Harry's gaze did nothing to help her.

"Once I leave, you'll be alone."

As if he knew what she was thinking, Harry tentatively reached out towards her and grasped her hand gently. Gliding his thumb over her palm, he whispered, as if he was trying to convince himself, "You're not alone."

It seemed like some of the weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She really wasn't alone. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Harry was right there with her—both of them were unlucky enough to share this misery. It occurred to her that she should pull her hand away, but for the first time she felt a warmth travel through her made her reconsider.

And so, she tightened her hand around his and whispered, "You're not alone."

And that was probably the best thing Harry had heard ever since the Triwizard Tournament. He glanced down at their clasped hands, staring in wonder at them. Never would he have imagined that he would be holding Ankaa's hand of all people… Never could he have imagined that he would initiate any sort of intimacy towards her.

But things had changed. Losing Ceph had brought them together, however unwilling. He couldn't deny the fact that she was an intelligent witch—accomplished with her magic, and unsurpassed with her wit. He had become taken with her quite quickly.

As the duo pulled their hands away (due to the arrival of the other students), Harry came to a surprising conclusion. Watching Ankaa walk past him and towards her friends in Slytherin, his hand twitched reflexively as if to reach out for her. As Hermione and Ron joined him, Harry found himself wishing that Ankaa would too.

"You like her," Hermione had said when they were sat in the boys' bedroom at Grimmauld Place that summer, "You like her a lot."

"Her?" Ron had almost spit out his water. "Harry and Ankaa?"

"Why?" Hermione had glared at him, "What's wrong with Ankaa?"

Ron ignored her and instead turned to Harry to give him a pitying look. "No offence mate, but really? You sure?"

"I don't!" Harry had denied vehemently. "She's just a friend."

"Good," Hermione had said, sounding a little too relieved for Harry's taste, "Not because you don't match! In fact, I think you two compliment each other rather well—but its just that… I think she might like someone else."

Ron had snorted. "Her? Like someone else? I didn't think she was capable of showing emotion."

"That's rude, Ron." Hermione had snapped, "Just because you and her don't get along—"

"She doesn't get along with anybody!"

"That's not true! You just need to give her time. Isn't that right Harry?"

Harry hadn't responded. He wasn't even sure what he could say in a situation like that. He had no idea that Hermione and Ankaa were so close. Regardless of that, Harry was more concerned about Hermione's ability to notice things before even he could.

He wasn't sure if he craved her company as a friend, or if he genuinely liked her in a more… intimate way. Shaking his head, Harry headed into the classroom. Consciously avoiding looking at the Slytherin girl, he tried to pay attention to Professor Binns.

But even he could not stop his mind from wandering…

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a blur for Ankaa. Divination was nothing out of the ordinary. Professor Trelawney had them interpreting each other's dreams. Ankaa had made up a dream about winning the Quidditch Cup as to appease Draco since she could hardly talk to him about her real dreams.

It saddened her slightly to think that the boy she had grown up, who at one point had been her closest confidant, was someone who knew the least now. She couldn't talk to him about these things. In fact, none of the friends she was close to were any wiser to what she was going through.

"Quidditch practice—" Draco said suddenly, once they were all making their way to DADA. "It's next Monday. Also, Gryffindor is having their tryouts on Friday, so come by and we can watch them, yeah? We need to start devising plays soon."

"Sure," Ankaa said.

Draco raised a brow at her sullen tone, but one shake of her head and he turned away. Both of them knew that the public setting was hardly appropriate when discussing problems. He would no doubt interrogate her later.

Quietly, everyone shuffled into the DADA classroom, equally wary of Professor Umbridge. Ankaa settled herself beside Draco, way at the back, as to stay out of Umbridge's way as much as possible.

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge said when everyone had settled down.

A few people answered her, but Ankaa was not one of them. Her dislike for the teacher solidified even more when she repeated herself. When the entire class chanted back at her, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," Ankaa sat glaring at her desk in a show of rebellion.

"That wasn't too difficult, was it?" Umbridge gave a sickeningly sweet smile, "Wands away and quills out, please."

With a wave of her wand, Umbridge wrote the course aims on the little board at the front of the class. Umbridge went on some speech about how their instruction in this course had been "disturbingly uneven" and that she was here to make it all better now.

Beside Ankaa, Draco rolled his eyes.

Despite her dislike towards Umbridge, the rational part of Ankaa knew that it was not worth it to say anything to her now. And so, in the silence that stretched throughout the class, Ankaa continued reading the chapter in her book. Every so often, her eyes would flicker up to where Umbridge was settled in front of the classroom, smiling down at everyone as if she was most pleased with herself.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge's voice shattered the painful silence. Ankaa glanced up to see Hermione lowering her hand slowly.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells."

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron asked loudly.

"You'll be learning about magic in a secure, risk-free way, which is after all what school is all about."

"If we're going to be attacked it wont be risk-free."

Once Harry had spoken, Ankaa knew there was only one way this class would end. Harry would no doubt get detention for speaking without putting his hand up. But of course, as the altercation between Umbridge and Harry got worse, Ankaa realized that there was no way this would end with just a detention.

"You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"

"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"—this is a lie."

" It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!"

"So, according to you, Cepheus Rhyther dropped dead of his own accord?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.

Ankaa did not hear what Umbridge said next. She tried desperately to calm her wildly beating heart. The blood rushing about her body… Beside her, Draco's hand reached over to clasp her own cold hand.

"It was murder!"

Ankaa was going to throw up. Without waiting, she pulled her hand away from Draco's and launched herself out of her seat.

"Step aside, Cepheus. I do not wish to spill magical blood."

She pushed open the stall quickly, barely ducking in time to reach the toilet as the bile rose up in her throat. Clenching her eyes closed in extreme discomfort, she was once again assaulted by the memories of the Third Task.

"Such a shame… Kill him."

And then she broke down.

Vaguely, Ankaa remembered thinking that this was really the lowest of lows. The pain was far too much for her now—the physical, and the emotional. She was done. The looks she got from the other students, the pity that she had lost her brother, but intrigue that the fact that he had died under mysterious circumstances. For them, Ceph's death was nothing but an afterthought. They were only concerned because of how vague it had all been. For Ankaa, it was torture. Her every thought was filled with Voldemort—the uncaring look in his eyes as he ordered her brother dead.

Ankaa was hunched over the toilet, dry heaving. She had run out of tears long ago, but her eyes still watered. There was no food in her stomach to empty out. She was aware that her hands had moved away from her hair, and were clutching her temples tightly. She was chanting the word "no" over and over again as the memories kept assaulting her over and over again.

"I won't let you be alone, Ankaa. You've got a family that loves you, and you'll have friends that do as well."

It all stopped then, or rather, lessened significantly. The tightness in her stomach vanished and was replaced by a comforting warmth. Ankaa kept repeating Ceph's words in her head over and over again. She didn't know how long she stood in that stall, but eventually when her tears had stopped completely, and her stomach was no longer clenched uncomfortably, Ankaa reached over and flushed the toilet.

Ankaa was glad of the empty washroom when she stepped out. Quickly, she washed her face and rinsed her mouth. She debated heading back to class, but she knew that if she saw Umbridge's face, Ankaa would not hesitate to pull out her wand and threaten the Professor.

"Miss Rhyther?"

Ankaa turned and spotted Dumbledore at the end of the hallway. Begrudgingly, she made her way over to the Headmaster as he stood talking to one of the portraits.

"If I am not mistaken, I do believe you have Defense Against the Dark Arts at this moment."

"I do," Ankaa did not elaborate. She gave the empty portrait a sullen look before turning to Dumbledore, who was gazing down inquisitively at her. Ankaa thought that he might ask her why she wasn't in class, but he was observant enough to know that even if he asked, she would not tell him anything.

"I wanted to inform you," Dumbledore began softly, "that you will be having lessons with Professor Snape twice a week starting in two weeks."

"About?"

"Legilimency and Occlumency." Dumbledore turned away from her but continued speaking, "Whether you like it or not, you will have to face him soon enough. With someone of your talent, we cannot afford to have you be unprepared."

"But—"

"I know, Miss Rhyther." Dumbledore glanced down the hall, and said softly, "We must all face our fears at some point."

Ankaa turned to see Draco at the end of the hall. Once he spotted her, he hurried over. Ankaa turned to bid farewell to the Headmaster, but he had already vanished. With an irritated sigh, she turned to meet her friend.

Draco stood a step away from her, carefully taking in her form, as if for the first time. His fingers twitched by his side slightly, wanting to reach out to her.

"Are you—"

"I'm fine."

Draco didn't look like he believed her. He stood there for a minute more, eyes narrowed as he critically examined her. Frowning in concentration, he reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Ankaa noticed his eyes soften, in a way she had seen with Ceph. She looked away from him. When she turned her eyes back to him, they had a hardened look about them.

Draco clenched his jaw, and muttered, "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Back to the Common Room," He took her hand gently in his. "We're going to teach that Umbitch a lesson. We protect our own."

As Draco dragged her along and brought her into the common room, Ankaa noticed that all of the other Slytherins were gathered around Blaise. He was recounting the story of what had happened in class. Ankaa noticed with a great sense of pride that most of the other Slytherins looked just as pissed off with Umbridge as she was, while the others were more concerned about her well being.

"You leave this to me," Draco said, waving her away as she sat next to him to help plan their 'attack'.

Ankaa only nodded. She was far too tired to argue.

And so, as she headed upstairs, she cast one more look at the common room downstairs. It was picturesque—the Slytherin students all gathered around the flickering firelight, looking cunning and devious as they planned their revenge on Umbridge.

We protect our own.

Notes:

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