"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice." - Bob Marley

Chapter Thirty-Eight – A Troubled Mind

Ankaa jolted awake at the sound of loud banging on the washroom door. Her sleep addled brain had barely registered the sound when the door was thrown open roughly, and Pansy ambled in. Upon spotting the girl sitting on the floor, looking dazed and confused, Pansy frowned.

"Is your bed not comfy enough?"

Ankaa grimaced, wiping away the drool at the corner of her mouth before she got up. Without sparing a look at her inquisitive roommates, Ankaa started brushing her teeth.

"I wasn't feeling too well," said Ankaa after she rinsed her mouth. She pushed past Pansy, who narrowed her eyes at Ankaa, and settled herself on her bed. Ankaa rubbed her palms into her eyes, trying to quell the resurfacing feeling of nausea.

"You still don't look to well," said Daphne, leaning forward to squint at Ankaa's sickly pallor. "Do you feel sick?"

Of course, Ankaa felt sick, she had just learned she was going to die!

However, Ankaa did not have the energy to entertain her roommates' questions. As the other girls continued to get ready for their classes, Ankaa snuggled back into her bed. Pulling the covers over her head, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the sight of her being hit by the lethal spell.

Ankaa had no intention of going to class. What was the point anyway, if she was just going to die?

"We all must die at one time or another," Mopsus had said when Ankaa had first talked to him. Of course, it was easy for him to say that. He was already dead, yet somewhat alive in a portrait. Ankaa doubted anyone cared enough to make a portrait of her. And even if they did, Ankaa was sure over the years she would just become bitter and sad and turn into another, less loud, version of Walburga Black.

Ankaa waited under the covers until the dormitory fell silent. She tossed and turned, debating just going to sleep. Merlin knows she needed it. But she also knew that no matter how hard she tried, Ankaa just would not be able to find sleep.

She wondered if her mother knew about it… About Ankaa possibly dying.

She probably does, Ankaa speculated. In fact, she had probably found out about it a long time ago. Her mother's gifts, according to Dumbledore, looked into the far future. It's one of the reasons why she wasn't entirely useful to Voldemort, as she saw decades into the future and he needed more recent visions.

It's exactly why, according to Henry, that Voldemort wanted to meet Ankaa.

"He knows it's not Maya," Henry had said quietly one night when they were both sat in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, late after an Order meeting. "He knows its not your Grandmother either, her gifts aren't nearly as strong as your mothers, or yours. See, with every generation, your gifts have been multiplying in power. That's why Voldemort wants you because you'd be the most powerful Seer in his arsenal."

Ankaa threw her covers off and quickly changed into her school robes. She still didn't want to go to class, but she thought that in the event a teacher caught her out in the halls, it's still better to look as if she was on her way rather than just lounging about. Packing her bag, she hauled it over her shoulder and crossed the deserted Common Room to head out.

Soon, she came up on the familiar entrance of the Portrait Room. Hesitating by the door for a fraction of a second, Ankaa wondered if it was really best to bother Mopsus about her vision. Even if she did tell him about it, is there anything he could do to help her? Would he just go tell Dumbledore?

Just talk to him, a part of Ankaa said. If he says something that helps, great. If he says something that doesn't help… well, it's not like she'd be worse off.

"I was wondering when you'd come to speak with me again," Mopsus smiled good-naturedly once he spotted her. "As happy as I am to see you, should you not be in class?"

"I should be doing a lot of things," Ankaa admitted quietly. "I just can't focus anymore."

Mopsus frowned. Ankaa could immediately tell that he was concerned. His brow always furrowed in a peculiar sort of way when he was thinking hard, and his eyes always narrowed her.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I—I had a vision yesterday," Ankaa hesitated. "I couldn't wait to take the Potion; I was afraid that I'd miss something important because my Inner Eye just can't seem to work. And I saw my death… and it was…"

Ankaa took a deep, shuddering breath to try and calm her frantic heart. Every time she closed her eyes, the only image she could see was her fallen body. She was scared yes, for herself as well as for the people she would leave behind. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Fred crying over her body. She couldn't hear him, but Ankaa was sure that if he felt even the slightest bit for her, he would have sounded the way she had when she had lost Ceph.

It made her sick.

Mopsus looked like he was staring at something in the distance, his milky eyes were unfocused and he was frowning as if he was deep in thought.

"You can't tell anyone!"

At this, Mopsus' attention snapped back to the girl before him. "Why ever not?" He questioned incredulously. "Ankaa, if what you say is true, there is no possible way that you will be able to survive on your own."

"You said that the future isn't concrete, that I can change death!"

"Careful, Ankaa," warned Mopsus, his voice taking on a harsh edge she had never heard from him before. "Death will come for you, maybe not in the same way as your vision, but it will. But you cannot hope to fight this on your own. You must tell someone else."

Ankaa huffed, hating the fact that he was probably right. She didn't need him going to Dumbledore, of all people.

"I'll talk to my mother," Ankaa finally conceded. At Mopsus' suspicious look, she laughed, but it really just sounded like a rushed exhale. "I'm serious! I'll talk to her and see… she's probably seen it already."

Mopsus stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he nodded. "I want to hear what she has to say after you have spoken with her," he said. Mopsus called the young girl's name again, after she had given him a parting nod. "And what of your friends? The Weasley twins?"

"Fred and George?" Ankaa shuffled on her feet uncomfortably. She knew Mopsus would probably say something noble, expect her to get them involved as well.

"You will not inform them of your vision?"

Ankaa just shook her head. This was a topic she was not willing to negotiate. She didn't want either of her friends involved more than they already were. Mopsus, Ankaa knew, would not let the topic go. And lo and behold, he certainly did not.

"They are your friends, are they not?" Mopsus gave her a disappointed look. "I thought you trusted them, little one."

"I do—"

"Not if you cannot share your burdens with them." Mopsus looked away from her then as if he was reminiscing about a long, lost memory. When he spoke next, his voice was a lot softer, gentler. "Our lives are short, Ankaa, and our friends and family do not deserve to be left in the dark about these things. Trust me when I say, overcoming this adversity will only become easier with your friends and family at your side."

Mopsus watched as the girl looked away from him, conflict deep in her troubled, grey eyes. He could suspect why she did not want to get them involved. After all, she had lost her brother, the one person she had trusted in this ordeal.

"You owe it to them, Ankaa," Mopsus added, "If they are to be there with you, they need to know the risk they face. If you do save yourself, Death will claim someone else. They need to know that it might just be them."

"They're not going to be there," Ankaa said softly. "If I tell them about this vision, they'll want to be there—they'll try their hardest to be there. And if Death must have Death, and if the only way I can save myself is to serve someone else to death on a silver platter, those two sure as hell won't be there."

Mopsus and Ankaa stared at one another, willing the other to step down first. Normally, Mopsus would have let her be. After all, learning was a part of life. However, when you are standing on the edge, and one ill-planned move could be your end, there is no room for stubbornness. Ankaa had yet to understand this concept. It amazed Mopsus that she was so adamant about saving the lives of her friends, even when she knew she would be risking her own. Two years ago, Ankaa's self-preservation would have prevailed, and she would have thrown anyone before her if it meant she got to live.

"You cannot do this on your own, Ankaa," Mopsus said finally, relenting. "I am obligated to give you my advice, and I sincerely hope you will take it."

Ankaa nodded, listening to him half-heartedly.

"Tell them," said the old Seer. "As your friends and chosen family, they deserve to know. You cannot control the actions of others, but you can control how you spend your time with them. If your time is indeed limited, spend it lovingly with your friends. Please, Ankaa."

Mopsus turned away then as if he could not bear looking at her anymore. Ankaa could not help but feel as if she had disappointed him. Mopsus simply turned and vanished from his portrait, leaving her standing in the middle of the portrait room, looking at the floor in distress.

If she had expected Mopsus to clear things up, he had certainly done the opposite.

"So, you're alive then?" Draco drawled, throwing Ankaa a deadpan stare as he cut into his piece of chicken.

"Barely," snorted Pansy Parkinson, taking in the state of Ankaa's dishevelled appearance. Daphne and she giggled before turning away from the sight.

Draco glared at Pansy, but she didn't seem to notice. He moved his bag aside as Ankaa slid into the spot next to him. He watched carefully as she put a few things on her plate, but not nearly as much as she used to eat. Raising a brow, he stared at her. Draco didn't want to ask her outright, because he knew that if it was something serious, Ankaa would never talk about it out loud. As expected, Ankaa acknowledged his look with a subtle shake of her head.

"Why weren't you in class today?" asked Blaise, leaning over Draco's other side to give Ankaa the once over as well.

"Period cramps, would you like more details?" snapped Ankaa, glaring at him over her goblet of water.

Both Draco and Blaise grimaced before shaking their heads. Blaise held his hands up in surrender, mumbling something about too much information. Draco, on the other hand, did not seem to buy the lie. He only narrowed his eyes at her before turning back to his food reluctantly. Ankaa knew he didn't like being left out of the loop, but she really had no choice right now.

"By the way," said Draco, leaning towards Ankaa, "Our first lesson is tonight. I know you've been a bit busy, so I did the plan for today. It's all easy spells, so we'll be fine—"

"You're talking about the meeting in the Common Room?"

Draco nodded slowly, giving a befuddled stare, "Obviously, Ankaa, keep up! Anyway, you and I will be working with the fifth years—I talked to Macmillan from Hufflepuff and he's agreed to cover our Prefect rounds for tonight. He seemed a bit hesitant at first, but he came around."

A corner of her lips turned up then. "You mean you bullied him into it?"

"I prefer the term convinced."

"Coerced?"

Draco smiled in return. "Persuaded?"

"Persuaded with a little bit of your charm," Ankaa nodded with a laugh, "Yes, that I can believe."

"Well whatever the case, he'll cover for the second half. Says he's got some other things to do for the first, so we'll take over then."

Ankaa shrugged. "That's fine. I doubt there's much happening either way. I'll just probably sit somewhere and do the next week's plan if you want?"

Draco nodded. He said that he would look it over once she had finished, and then turned away to talk to Blaise on his other side about what they did in class. He turned back to Ankaa then too, and all of them started filling her in on what she had missed today. Across from the table, Pansy was recounting the tale of what had transpired in Divination, with Trelawney and Umbridge.

"She can't sack teachers though, can she?" Daphne asked from beside Pansy, looking to the Staff Table where Umbridge was smiling sweetly and eating. "I thought only the headmaster could do that."

Ankaa's eyes found the old woman. Ankaa could feel her blood boiling, just looking at the smiling bat. She had not felt this sense of anger since she had lost Ceph. Everything that had happened in these past few days just seemed to have culminated to this instance. Looking at Umbridge, Ankaa's anger just continued to bubble and simmer, and she kept recalling everything the woman had said about her, about Ceph, and about Harry.

"Are you alright?"

Ankaa's eyes snapped away from the woman in pink to Draco beside her. His grey eyes were trained on her, concern evident in them. He looked down at the table, where Ankaa was clutching her fork too tightly in her hand, and holding it up as a knife as if she was getting ready to stab someone.

Immediately, Ankaa let go of her fork and nodded. Setting the fork down beside her plate, Ankaa answered Daphne, "I doubt she would have wasted her time on all those interviews if she couldn't at least do something to the teachers."

"I agree," said Blaise.

"Who do you think will be the first one sacked?"

"Trelawney, most likely," shrugged Draco, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Umbridge hates her the most, and her subject, after all, isn't based on a science."

Ankaa wanted to tell him that Divination wasn't a science. Ankaa was the living, breathing proof of that. She understood poor Trelawney now. So many doubted her, just as they would doubt Ankaa if she went around parading the fact that she was a Seer. Granted, Ankaa wasn't a great Seer (probably not even a good one, if she had to force visions upon herself), but she understood how fragile the title really was.

"… useless, after all!" Daphne was saying, "I mean, what's the point?"

Beside Ankaa, Draco only shrugged disinterestedly.

Doesn't he deserve to know? Does he deserve to know you'll be dead soon?

The thought came to Ankaa suddenly, as she looked over Draco's form while he sat there, arguing with Pansy and Daphne about whether or not Muggle Studies was worse than Divination or not.

As one of her best friends, didn't Draco deserve to know that Ankaa might possibly die? After all, if Fred and George deserved to be told, didn't Draco deserve the same treatment? At what point in her life had Ankaa started to distance herself from Draco? She certainly didn't remember such a thing happening, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Draco just wasn't the same for her.

And the worst part about the distance between them was that it was entirely Ankaa's fault.

Ankaa hadn't told him about her being a Seer, but she had wasted no time to tell Fred and George. Ankaa hadn't even told him about Fred. Would he have minded? He probably suspected something, but he wasn't too bothered to say anything at the moment.

Wracked with guilt, Ankaa pushed away her plate. She had grown up with Draco, he was basically another brother.

"Our love for our friends and family is not dictated by how long we knew them. It's what we feel inside… The strength of our bonds, the memories we cherish, no matter how many in number, that let us know how much we love and are loved."

Remus' words rung in her ears, almost as clear as the day he had spoken them in the graveyard standing over Ceph's grave.

God, I miss Ceph.

Against her will, Ankaa found herself imagining that she was back in that horrid graveyard, staring down at her brother's body. She could hear Voldemort's cackle as if he was standing right behind her. Ankaa knew she was imagining it all, and that it wasn't really happening, but it all felt so real. The lifeless eyes staring into the night sky… the same eyes that crinkled in laughter whenever Ankaa made horrible puns and jokes.

By the time she resurfaced from her living nightmare, everyone around her was getting up to leave and head back to their dormitories. Amongst the Slytherins, there was excited chatter about what would happen tonight. They neglected to mention anything specific, lest some nosy sod was listening in, but they were all excited about practicing for the first time tonight.

Draco had vacated the space next to her and was having a hushed conversation with Warrington as he dug around for something in his backpack, and offered it to him. Warrington examined the rolled piece of parchment before nodding.

Ankaa just could not find it in herself to move. She knew she had to, but she had just been feeling so lethargic lately as if the will to live was slowly being drained out of her by an otherworldly force.

As if on instinct, her eyes found those of Fred Weasley over by the Gryffindor table. The excited smile that had been on his face faltered when he looked at her. Fred had expected her to smile back. He had been itching to see her all day, but when she hadn't shown up to the Great Hall for any of the meals, he had assumed that she had just had them in the Kitchens. But looking at her now, even he could tell something was wrong.

Though she was looking right at him, Ankaa's usually expressive grey eyes were empty. It seemed like she was looking right through Fred, lost deep in thought about something that was bothering her a lot.

"George," Fred tugged on his twin's arm slightly as they were exiting the Great Hall. "Did Ankaa talk to you about anything?"

"What d'you mean?" George cast a look behind him at the Slytherin table. His eyes scanned the table for a moment before they found Ankaa, who was gingerly pulling herself up and following after her friends. "Merlin, she doesn't look too good, does she?"

Fred frowned as Ankaa walked past them, a few paces away, in between Draco and Blaise (the former of who made sure to glare at Fred before turning his nose up at him). Fred paid the boys no mind, however, as his gaze was fixed solely on Ankaa.

"Did she say anything to you, mate?"

George shook his head. "No, I haven't talked to her since we gave her the Puking Pastille. Did she say anything to you?"

Fred gave him a deadpan look. "Would I have asked you if she did?"

George raised a brow. "Don't get snappy with me, Fred. Maybe she hinted at something? Does anything seem odd about your last conversation with her?"

"Bloody hell!" Fred raked his hand through his hair, "Nothing that could have ended up with her looking like that! She was fine last I talked to her, honest!"

George chuckled at Fred's nervousness. "It's probably alright then, Freddie, maybe she's just worried about her O.W.L's?"

Fred looked unconvinced, and even George had to admit that didn't sound at all like Ankaa to him. The two of them stood in the entrance hall a bit longer, until Snape ushered them away with a scowl, threatening them with detention if they lingered around any longer.

Fred was still lost in thought as he wandered up the stairs to the portrait of the Fat Lady. George clapped him on the back just before they could enter.

"It's okay, Freddie," he assured his twin, "I'm sure whatever it is, Ankaa will tell us about it if it's serious, yeah?"

Fred only nodded. It seemed highly unlikely to him that Ankaa would talk to them out of her own will unless she was being forced into it by either of the twins or someone else. She had never been one to ask for help, no matter how serious the matter was, which was something that really annoyed Fred. He could understand her perspective, of course, but that didn't stop the irrational spike of frustration that bubbled up in him every time she rejected his help.

"I hope so," Fred sighed eventually, as he settled himself onto the couch by the fireplace.

Ankaa fingered the locket hanging from her neck absentmindedly. She was sitting in the Room of Requirement, the same room where she and Ceph would come to practice advanced spells. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with every book imaginable on any subject she could ever think of dreaming up. There were a few cushions strewn about, which Ankaa and Ceph would use as landing cushions when they used to practice their spells on one another.

It had been so long since she had been in this room.

With a sigh, Ankaa turned back to the book she had been flipping through. Nothing so far had been of help. Ankaa supposed the particular topic she was searching for had never been one that people were itching to publish. After all, how many people could see their death coming in time to plan to avoid it?

With a scowl, Ankaa snapped the book shut. Sitting back in her chair, she brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

She was debating telling Fred and George everything. Maybe even Hermione. Ankaa and Hermione may not have been the best of friends, but Ankaa knew the Muggleborn witch could understand the situation and help her plan for it. Ankaa obviously would not tell them everything. For instance, the vision of Voldemort was something that neither of her friends would hear of. Fred may have been a little bit more understanding, but even he was bound to be against Ankaa 'siding' with Voldemort.

And Ankaa really did not need that from him. Especially so early in their relationship.

It's not a relationship! Ankaa scolded herself, you're not dating him! He's a friend! Who happens to like you… at the same time that you happen to like him…

With an exhausted sigh, Ankaa leaned her head on the table and closed her eyes. She really needed to get her mind off of these things. Her feelings for Fred had addled her brain, and she could feel herself going soft where he was concerned. It wasn't just him either, it was George, and Hermione, and everyone else.

At the sound of the door opening, Ankaa's head snapped up in alarm. Holding her wand at the ready, she aimed it at the head that poked through the gap. Harry Potter opened the door wider, leading the Golden Trio into the spacious room.

"You've got to be joking," Ankaa deadpanned. The Trio, who were surprised by her presence, quickly took a few steps inside and closed the door behind them. "The one place where I could get away from you lot and you just had to come by?"

"We're not that excited by your presence either, believe me," said Ronald, crossing his arms in distaste.

Ankaa only smirked at him. "You're more than welcome to leave, Weasley. I expect you're a very busy boy, what with all those failed Potions essays you've got to catch up on."

Sensing a fight brewing between the two, Harry stepped in. "You know about the Room of Requirement?"

"Obviously, since I'm in it."

"How?"

"How am I in it or how do I know about it?" Ankaa rolled her eyes at Harry's deadpan look. With a slight smile, she said, "Ceph told me about it. We used to use it every year to practice our spells and try and get ahead." Ankaa cast a fond look around, aware that her mood had lessened a bit at the talk of her brother. "What are you lot doing here?"

Hermione shuffled on her feet, looking from Harry to Ron. At least she had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but she didn't say anything. Harry looked like he wanted to speak, but Hermione warned him against it the moment he opened his mouth. Ronald, on the other hand, looked smug. For the first time, it seemed, he knew something that Ankaa didn't.

Ankaa snorted, "Okay, well whatever it is, doesn't matter. I was here first, so it's my room. Get out."

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door. Ankaa watched, annoyed, as Ginny, Neville, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Dean Thomas all walked in.

"Is literally every Gryffindor in Hogwarts going to be here?"

"Looks like it," said Ronald, giving her a smirk. "Better clear out now, then, Rhyther."

"What's she doing here?" asked Brown, eyeing Ankaa's Slytherin robes warily. Ankaa only raised a brow at her, daring her to say anything else. For her part, Brown seemed to understand the threat right away, because she gulped loudly and stepped back beside Patil.

Ginny, however, had no such qualms. She sprung forward with a laugh and wrapped her arms around Ankaa. Taken aback, Ankaa stumbled a bit before catching the giddy girl.

"I didn't know you were here!"

Ankaa snorted. "I was the first one here," She glared at Harry over Ginny' shoulder, "Before Harry decided to come knocking."

Hermione cleared her throat softly. "Er, Ankaa, it's not that we don't like you—We do, believe me—but it's just that—"

"—you guys don't want any Slytherins around while you do highly illegal things under Umbridge's nose," Ankaa interrupted harshly, though she hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh. When Hermione winced, Ankaa shrugged as if it was no big deal.

What had she been expecting anyway? She was naive enough to think that all of them would accept her on Ginny's word. If she was in their position, she certainly wouldn't have. But still, facing this toxicity without any of her Slytherin friends was proving to be far more cumbersome than Ankaa had previously thought. The worst part about being an outcast amongst this group wasn't being judged harshly, but it was the fact that in the back of her mind, Ankaa felt that she was a good person. A good person who deserved to be there amongst them as much as any other student.

But she also knew that she would never be given that chance.

"Wait, she can't just leave!" said a boy in Hufflepuff, who Ankaa hadn't even seen come in, "She knows about us! She'll go and tell Umbridge."

Ankaa raised a brow incredulously. "You literally have more chances of someone in your own group of ragtag people to tattle to Umbridge than you do of me going to her."

Ginny nodded from beside Ankaa. "I trust her," she said firmly, eyeing the large Hufflepuff boy as if she was waiting for him to contradict her.

The Hufflepuff boy rolled his eyes, "Doesn't make much of a difference, does it? She's not a part of our group, she didn't have to sign the parchment—she can say anything and get away with it. We'll be the ones in trouble?"

At his statement, many of the others nodded. Ankaa spotted Fred and George entering quietly, their attention quickly drawn by the crowd in the room, and Ankaa at the very centre.

"What's going on?" asked Fred, coming further into the circle and looking from Ginny to Ankaa.

It was Ginny who spoke. "Smith thinks Ankaa'll go and tattle on us. He wants her to sign the sheet with all of us to make sure she doesn't tell."

Fred and George turned to Smith with equal looks of irritability. Before another argument could break out, Ankaa let out a big sigh. Hiking the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, she picked up the few books she had picked out while drawing out the lesson plans for their own meeting in the Slytherin Common Room.

"Look, I can tell when I'm not wanted, so I'm just going to leave," said Ankaa crossing Fred and George, who looked like they were ready to pick her up and throw her over their shoulder and demand that she stays. "Just make no one else finds this room, alright?" warned Ankaa, glaring at Smith, "especially not Umbridge."

"Why're you leaving?" Fred jumped in front of her, blocking the door. "Don't you think you could stay here and help? Harry!" Fred looked over Ankaa at the Boy, who seemed taken aback by the suggestion, but nodded a moment later.

"I think it's a good idea," he said, "I've definitely seen you and you're good."

"She needs to sign the parchment then," said Smith. At this, Ginny, George, and Fred all rolled their eyes with a groan.

"If you want her autograph, Smith, all you have to do is ask," glared George.

Fred raised a brow at Smith, glaring at him, "Though I don't reckon you should."

Ankaa gave Fred an amused look before turning back to Harry with a sardonic smile. "There's a reason I didn't join your Defense Group, Harry. I've known about it since you planned it in the Hogs Head—"

"How do—"

"Doesn't matter how I know," Ankaa shook her head, "The point is if I didn't join then I'm not about to join now. What you guys are doing is completely moronic—"

"Of course you'd think that," spat a boy from Ravenclaw, "You and your lot love Umbridge, don't you? Probably think she's one of the best Defense teachers you've ever had?"

Ankaa's withering glare had the boy shrinking back on his cushion, his bravado faltering slightly.

"All of you combined probably hate Umbridge less than I do," said Ankaa. "Trust me, no one in Slytherin is fond of her. We're just not stupid enough to go forming secret organizations under her nose and parading around the castle in large groups to draw attention to ourselves. We just do it in our Common Room."

"We can't do it in our Common Room," Harry pointed out. "We don't have the proper equipment."

Ankaa laughed as if he had said a really funny joke. She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that the only equipment he needed was a cushion (easily found in the Common Room), a wand (purchased a few years ago at Ollivanders) and a brain (which, to be honest, was probably one of the hardest pieces of equipment to come by—and judging by the group before her, most of them seemed be lacking it). Instead, she just ran a hand through her hair.

"Who's going to keep the parchment?"

"Me," said Hermione. "It'll be safe with me. Trust me, no one will know."

"Pass it over then."

"You're signing it?" asked Fred, equally as surprised as the others.

Looking over her shoulder at Fred, Ankaa shrugged tiredly. "If I sign it, I get to leave. I'd rather do that and get away from all these glares than stay here and argue with you guys when you're obviously busy learning," she said, glaring at Smith as she said the last bit.

Hermione passed her the parchment and a quill. Ankaa quickly scribbled her signature on it, aware that Fred was watching with a smile over her shoulder. As soon as Ankaa handed the parchment back to Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny, all pounced on Ankaa.

"Great!" announced George, taking her by the arm and dragging her to one of the cushions, "Now that you've signed it, you're officially a part of this with us—"

"—which means you get to stay and practice, doesn't it, Harry?"

Harry just smiled and nodded, incredibly amused at Ankaa's bewildered expression as she was settled none too gently onto the cushion by Fred's side. George settled on her other side, bouncing in excitement. Fred and George shared a look over Ankaa's slouched form, sharing a wide smile.

As Harry took his place at the front of the room, and attention soon fell away from the only Slytherin in the room to the Golden Boy, Fred tried to examine Ankaa from the corner of his eyes. She seemed to be in much better shape now, and he liked to think it was because of him and George, but he knew that it probably wasn't.

Whatever the case, Fred could see that Ankaa was at least smiling. Not the sad, empty smile he had been seeing on her lately, but a genuine, joyous smile. Even if it wasn't because of him, Fred was just happy.

Happy that she was here, with him, and that's all that mattered at the moment.

NOTES:

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