Happy Monday! Enjoy the newest chapter!
"The dead can survive as part of the lives of those that still live." - Kenzaburō Öe, Hiroshima Notes
Chapter 56 - Last Living Descendant
The next morning was much more reserved than their celebrations from the night before. Sirius, who was nursing a terrible hangover from his boisterous drinking, was sat at the breakfast table mulling over some eggs and bacon when Ankaa came downstairs. Everyone else in the Burrow was already sat at the table and were engaging in quiet conversation when Ankaa sat in the open spot next to Ginny.
The younger girl immediately passed her a glass of orange juice. "Slept well?"
Ankaa took the glass from her and sipped from it slowly, knowing that Ginny knew just how well she must have slept given that her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from lack of sleep. Thankfully neither Ginny nor Hermione, who was sat opposite to Ankaa and was watching her every move very intently, said anything on the matter in front of everyone else.
"… a free man now," Sirius was saying when Ankaa turned his way at the other end of the table. "I'm going to be speaking to Dumbledore about a few things later today. He's got some things for me to do, apparently."
"Things? What things?" Harry asked immediately. "For the Order, you mean?"
"Seems so," Sirius shrugged. "Remus is off doing some business for the Order too. He's going to be underground for a while, but I think Dumbledore has a few things he wanted to talk to me about."
It wasn't surprising to Ankaa that Sirius was finally being let in on things to do for the Order. He had been cooped up and frustrated for quite a while, and he made no attempt to hide his frustration at being left out. Though, Ankaa wondered what exactly Dumbledore would want from him? As far as she knew, Remus was away and trying to convince other werewolves to join their cause against Voldemort, but Sirius had no such use.
Immediately, Ankaa recalled her visions from the night before.
It had started as a ridiculous dream, as all dreams often did for Ankaa, where she had been standing in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, trying to convince Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that Ronald was an entirely expendable part of their family and that they should let Fred and George test out their new Instant-Apparition lockets on him. Mrs. Weasley had seemed apprehensive about the idea, saying something about how the possible consequences of being splinched were not exactly dismissible and that, as much as Ankaa did not like him, she, unfortunately, had to accept Ronald as a part of the family.
"After all, you might be his sister-in-law someday," Mrs. Weasley had smiled. The dream version of her was far more indulgent about these things, considering the real Mrs. Weasley had wasted no time in stopping Fred and Ankaa from spending time together.
This instance alone would have been bad enough to rob Ankaa of her much precious sleep, but the series of visions that had followed had shot dream Mrs. Weasley's statements out the window and robbed her of her peace of mind.
In a split second, Ankaa had gone from standing in the middle of Grimmauld Place to an unknown meadow, deep into the woods somewhere. A thick fog had settled over the meadow but it did little to impede Ankaa's vision of the trees on the outskirts and she noticed how odd they were. She had never seen trees like these before, where the solid-white bark was interwoven with gemstones of all different colours, shining and sparkling brightly despite the fog.
In her vision, she was standing at the very centre, overlooking a small shrine. It was a family simple one made of stone, and Ankaa thought it might have been there for quite a while for the moss to overtake every visible surface. At the very centre was an intricate ring, with woven bands of silver and gold, that was floating between the greenery. Even though Ankaa was not currently present at the scene, she could sense the immense power and magic within the object as she stepped closer to inspect it, crouching low so she could peek through the curtain of moss that fell alongside the sides of the shrine and encased the ring.
Just as her fingers brushed the surface, she was transported out of the white-bark forest and into a familiar scene. This time, she was at Hogwarts, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Zara Holloway was inside, standing next to someone Ankaa had never seen in such a position. Draco, her best friend since she was born, was hunched over the sink as he sobbed.
Zara was watching him with an understanding expression. Slowly, her hand came up and placed itself on his shoulder and immediately, Draco turned her way and wrapped his arms around her, his sobs melting into her shoulder as Zara ran her hands over his back and tried her best to console him.
"It's okay," Zara was saying when Ankaa stepped closer. "We'll help you, don't worry."
Draco's hands tightened around Zara.
The sight of her best friend sobbing into Zara's shoulder was so jarring, it had Ankaa stepping back in shock. Draco's form was slumped over, his eyes bloodshot and decorated with dark bags, and his hair was devoid of its usual shine and volume, hanging limply in his teary eyes. Just as quickly as he had shown his vulnerability, Draco's shoulders had tensed under Zara's grip, and he had stepped away with a quiet sniffle.
"You can't," he told her. "No one can. Not anymore."
"Draco, wait—"
Ankaa had spoken up before she could help it, not realizing or perhaps not caring that she was in a vision and that her words would never truly reach him here. But she stepped forward with a hand outstretched, itching to wrap around Draco's arm to pull him back to the comfort she and Zara might be able to offer. But Draco's form passed through her hands and disappeared into a wisp of smoke, disappearing along with the vision of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
From there, the scenes changed far too quickly for Ankaa to keep track. It seemed that with every heartbeat, she was brought somewhere new, flying forward through time and side to side, in places she had never seen and with people she had yet to meet. A Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower… a Patronus of an eagle, her mother's, settling on a branch above her head… a little dark-haired toddler leading her through the tall grass… a blond-haired man welcoming her back with a wide smile… a cloaked man saying the same thing over and over again…
"You're running out of time."
She had awoken with a start, trying to keep her breathing under control so Ginny and Hermione wouldn't wake up. Her fingers had automatically found the bracelet on her wrist, tracing the dragon gently to draw some comfort from it. She did not doubt Fred would come to the Burrow a second after she sent him the message through the bracelet, but there was no point in speaking to him about her visions until she had a good grasp of them herself.
She had tossed and turned in bed until the sun rose over the lush hills surrounding the Burrow. She had pointedly turned away from the window then, burrowing her face into her pillow and pulling her sheets over her head in an explicit gesture not to be woken up by Ginny and Hermione. Thankfully, the girls had let her sleep in slightly longer and quietly made their way out of the room.
"I'm glad you weren't in bed all day," Ginny whispered to her over breakfast, just quiet enough for her to hear. "Hermione and I didn't want to be left alone with Phlegm."
Ankaa cracked a smile over her fork before looking to the girl in question. Fleur Delacour, who was now engaged to Bill Weasley, had elected to spend some more time with her fiancé's family in an effort to get to know them better. It was a sweet gesture but Ankaa found it was often overshadowed by her overarching need to compare the way of things at the Burrow with 'ow eet iz en France. But Fleur was determined and nothing Mrs. Weasley said, whether overt or covert, about the engagement was enough to deter her.
Perhaps not to the Weasley women and Hermione but Ankaa certainly found it to be a great way to pass the time.
Ankaa had been absorbed in eavesdropping Fleur's conversation with Harry and Ronald, who seemed to be drooling at the mere sight of her when Hermione slid a new copy of the Daily Prophet across the table to her.
"It arrived just this morning," she informed her.
Belatedly, Ankaa was aware of conversation tapering around the table, and a quiet hush taking over as she gingerly reached for the newspaper.
MINISTRY CONFIRMS ANKAA RHYTHER AS A SEER:
SIRIUS BLACK CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES
Although it comes as no surprise to many, Sirius Black has been acquitted of all charges that were previously brought against him.
The news of his acquittal should be all that anyone can speak of, were it not for the fact that the prime testimony for his innocence was provided by none other than his daughter, Ankaa Rhyther, who happens to also be descended from a line of great seers. At the behest of the Minister and the Wizengamot, Rhyther provided access to her memories of the visions pertaining to the night in question, providing unquestionable proof of her father's innocence in regards to the murder of Peter Pettigrew and several muggles.
Rhyther's status as a Seer came as quite a surprise to the Ministry, who were merely insistent on evidence of the event in question by eye-witnesses other than the accused.
"We were quite blindsided, you see," said Relza Matcliff, a member of the Wizengamot, "as we had no idea that she had inherited the gifts from her mother. Whether or not it was kept a secret on purpose or simply dismissed as mere dreams remains in question, however, the most important finding is that we have a great Seer amongst us. At troubled times like these, that is quite a blessing indeed."
Ankaa Rhyther is the only living descendent of the House of Black and the House of Archer, an ancient and illustrious bloodline of the Americas. The Daily Prophet was able to access records from the MACUSA in order to verify that Alice Archer, grandmother of Ankaa Rhyther, is also a Seer. The Ministry has verified that under normal circumstances, a Seer's abilities are passed every three generations, however, Ankaa Rhyther is the third direct descendent since her grandmother to have inherited the ability. Maya Rhyther, the only fatality from the Battle of the Ministry of Magic and Ankaa Rhyther's mother, was said to also have inherited the ability, despite the lack of official documentation from the Ministry of Magic. Sources from the MACUSA have stated that prior to her transfer to Hogwarts, Maya Archer was said to have exhibited some traits while at school at Ilvermorny.
Currently, Ankaa Rhyther is set to begin her sixth year at Hogwarts as a member of Slytherin House, and whether or not she will be working with the Ministry to unlock her full potential as a Seer remains unclear as of this moment. The Daily Prophet reached out to Albus Dumbledore to inquire more about the topic and discern whether or not Rhyther will be taking extra lessons from the highly qualified staff, but the Headmaster neglected to comment on the topic.
When prompted about the same topic, the Ministry was much more forthcoming. "We have been quite swept up by the administrative aspect of welcoming Ms. Rhyther as a Seer, so whether or not she'll be employed by the Ministry remains to be seen. The Wizengamot has been shown extensive proof of her gifts and potential as a Seer, and we will be pursuing this matter much more closely in the coming future," answered Matcliff.
"They're going to try and parade you around, by the sound of it," mused Ginny. "There's hardly anything about the trial."
"It was never about my trial," answered Sirius. "Scrimgeour must have already suspected something. That's why he was so insistent on using a memory of the event, he must have known Ankaa had seen it and it was the only way to indict her as a Seer."
"But what does the Ministry get out of it?" asked Ronald. "It's not like she can control her visions. What use is that?"
Hermione elbowed him rightly in the side, and he doubled over his plate of eggs and bacon with a low groan. Fleur grimaced at the sight but said nothing else.
"It's much better than no visions, isn't it?" Ginny gave her brother a glare. "Besides, no one in the Ministry knows exactly how her visions work, so if they're making all this public news it probably means they want people to fill in the gaps."
"Scrimgeour wants to lift morale especially after all the nonsense with Fudge and his administration refusing to acknowledge Voldemort's return." Several people shivered at the name, but Sirius continued. "In the end, no one will care how Ankaa's visions work or what she sees but rather that there's a Seer out there that might be going against Voldemort. It's a threat to each side."
Ankaa's fingers deftly traced over a part of the article.
Maya Rhyther, the only fatality from the Battle of the Ministry of Magic and Ankaa Rhyther's mother…
It had barely been a month since Ankaa had lost her mother. Things had been happening so quickly that she had no time to think of it. In a way, she was glad. She remembered the pain of losing Ceph, and how it had swallowed her up so completely that she was left with little else to think about other than the way his body had hit the grass with a dull thump. But now, it seemed that things were moving so quickly—Sirius' trial, Malfoy and Nott's fathers being arrested and thrown into Azkaban, Henry's disappearance, the Occamy Egg, and now the new visions.
You're running out of time…
There was no time to mourn, no body to pour over and take in for the last time. Ankaa did not wish for it either; it was almost a blessing that her mother had gone the way she had, disappearing into a wisp of smoke without any long-lasting pain so that the people she had to leave behind would not have to remember the feeling of her cold skin beneath their fingertips.
There was a flutter of wings as an eagle owl swiftly and nimbly flew through the open window and settled itself on the table right by Ankaa's side, depositing a wax-sealed envelope with her name on it in her hands. Immediately, Ankaa recognized the writing.
Meet me at Diagon Alley a week before we're to return to Hogwarts. I'll meet you at WWW sometime after two. I have news about our friend.
- Zara Holloway
As far as cryptic notes went, Zara's note was really up there. Ankaa had no choice but to simply clutch the note in her hand and offer Zara's owl, Scooby (an odd name, but Zara loved it), a few snacks before sending him on his way with a simple 'alright'.
"You won't be able to walk around as you please anymore," Sirius told her a short while later. "You'll have to stay at the Burrow where it's safe. There have been more and more disappearances these days, and with news of you being a Seer, Voldemort would want to get his hands on you now more than ever."
"I don't understand," Ankaa leaned back against her chair, voicing something that had been plaguing her for a while now. "Voldemort already knew that I was a Seer—he looked into my mind while I was at Malfoy Manor over Christmas last year. He knew I was a Seer all along, but he let me go. Why would he be so hell-bent on getting to me now when he passed up the chance before?"
Sirius exchanged a look with Harry as a tense silence settled over the table. Sirius exchanged one look with Mrs. Weasley, who nodded and stood, ushering everyone but Ankaa, Harry, and Sirius away. Ginny and Ronald protested, but were cut short by a stern glance and a firm "Now!" by Mrs. Weasley, and made their way out of the dining room and up the stairs where they would no doubt try to eavesdrop.
Finally, when things had quieted down after their departure, Harry finally spoke up.
"When we were in the Department of Mysteries, and I got a hold of the Prophecy," began Harry uncertainly, shooting furtive glances to his godfather, "It's true what the Prophet's been saying. I'm the one that's got to finish Voldemort off… At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."
"And that's why Voldemort was trying to get his hands on it? He has no idea, does he?"
Sirius shook his head. "Prophecies are only meant for the people they're about, and Voldemort needed Harry to retrieve his prophecy so he could hear it and prepare for whatever he heard. But since he's now half a step behind, he'd want someone like you by his side: A Seer who can see visions of the immediate future, unlike Alice and Maya who saw scrambled visions that came to pass years later. You'd be the most useful for him."
Not only had Voldemort lost his chance at retrieving the Prophecy, but he had also let his chance of swaying Ankaa into his Death Eater ranks slip through his bony fingers. There was no one left to use against her: her brother had been murdered by Voldemort himself, her mother was now dead at the hands of Voldemort's apparent right-hand woman, and her father was blissfully missing (presumed dead) by Voldemort's doing, no doubt. There was no one left to use against her, to lord over her head in an effort to get her to join the Death Eaters when Voldemort had been the one to wipe out more than half of her family.
"It also must be why the Ministry wants to show off your support," surmised Sirius. He was gazing intently at the rolling hills across the Burrow, something indecipherable passing behind his eyes. "If the world knows you're with the Order and Harry, then there's a lot more stock into this speculation about Harry being the Chosen One. In a way, you both are." He stood then and looked down at the two of them. "That means no unsupervised gallivanting around Diagon Alley… both of you."
Potter and Ankaa exchanged a look before offering Sirius similar nods of resignation. Sirius stared down at the two of them a while longer, as if knowing that if they really wanted to, there was precious little he could do to stop them, his godson had an invisibility cloak and his daughter could apparate.
Harry and Ankaa excused themselves shortly after and headed up the stairs to the boys' room, where they knew their friends would be following a telling-off from Mrs. Weasley. Sure enough, Ronald and Hermione were sat in a group around some of Fred and George's extra things from their shop, pouring over each invention with quiet interest. Poor Ginny had been roped into helping Mrs. Weasley with a few chores so that Mrs. Weasley would not have to be alone with Fleur.
"Ankaa! You've been there before, right?" asked Hermione. "What's this supposed to be?"
She tossed it to Ankaa, who caught it effortlessly as she settled into one of the beds on the side and propped her legs up. "No idea," she answered, gingerly holding it up so she could inspect it. "But I wouldn't rummage around if I were you."
"How come you got to go to Fred and George's?" asked Ronald. "Mum said we've got to wait for Dad to be around for extra security. We haven't even seen it yet!"
"First of all, I can apparate, so I can go as I please. You'll know when you finally get your license. And second, I've gone a few times during the school year."
"You what?"
Ankaa snickered at Hermione's affronted look. "Yeah, I used one of the secret passageways out of the castle and disapparated from Hogsmeade."
Hermione mumbled something about it being horrible behaviour from a Prefect, before the two Gryffindors turned their attention on Harry, pressing him for answers about what had happened. Dutifully, Potter relinquished all the same details he had told Ankaa not moments prior, about the Prophecy and Ankaa's supposed role as a Seer.
Hermione and Ronald listened intently, before Hermione's expression twisted into one of great sympathy.
"Oh, Harry…" she trailed off, her eyes looking to Ankaa next. "Are you scared?"
"Not as much as I was," answered Harry. "When I first heard the prophecy, I was… but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end…"
Hermione cast a subtle glance towards Ankaa, who was pointedly ignoring the trio and pretending to be totally engrossed in her inspection of the telescope.
"You-Know-Who must not be very happy about the Ministry's news," supposed Hermione. "If it's true what you said, he must not want people to know Ankaa is so publicly aligned with Harry."
It was fairly common news. As far as she was aware, she had now become nearly as popular as Harry Potter himself. At first the child of a murderer but now widely known as the last living descendent of illustrious pureblood houses while also being the third direct descendent to inherit the abilities of a Seer. Someone who could see glimpses of the near future by Harry Potter's side was invaluable, especially when Voldemort had failed to collect a significant piece of the puzzle and was half a step behind.
"It's a bit stupid though, isn't it?" remarked Ronald. "I mean, everyone knows they've got Sirius in common! He's Harry's godfather and Ankaa's father, of course, she'd be on their side."
"It's about more than sides," answered Ankaa, turning the small telescope in her hands as she spoke. "I'm still a Rhyther… as far as people are concerned, I grew up with most of the Death Eaters."
"What are you saying?" Harry gazed hesitantly between his friends and back to her.
"I'm saying that for people who don't know the whole truth—which is a lot of people if we're honest—I'm still Ankaa Rhyther, the same girl who grew up with the Malfoy's. Don't you understand? I was friends with all of them since I was a child… Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Theodore, Daphne… I know their parents and their families. The Prophet keeps stressing the fact that I'm more Sirius' daughter and Potter's friend than I am a Rhyther or Draco's friend."
Ankaa's vision of the Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower flashed through her mind's eye, swiftly followed by the vision of Draco crying pitifully over the sink in Myrtle's washroom.
"You can't. No one can. Not anymore."
For a halting moment, the thought that the Dark Mark could be for Draco flashed through her mind. She had thought Voldemort did not have anyone to hold over her head, but that wasn't true at all, was it? She was a Rhyther, after all, and she had grown up around these kids. Draco was basically family.
What if Voldemort had thought the same and was intending to use Draco as a way to get Ankaa to join him? He must have put Draco up to something for a reason, either to get Ankaa involved and get closer to her or to use him as a way of finally reaching her. The same scene from the graveyard not two years ago flashed through her head, but this time instead of Ceph dropping dead at the end of Voldemort's wand, it was Draco.
"OW!"
A sudden puff of smoke overtook her, and Ankaa flinched as a sharp pain shot through the right side of her face. She coughed raggedly as she waved her hands, trying to dispel the smoke, all the while clutching the telescope that had a protruding fist bobble around on a spring.
Ronald burst out into raucous laughter at the sight of the fresh bruise forming on her eye. Harry at least tried to hold back his laughter, disguising it as a coughing fit.
"Oh, no! Are you alright?" Hermione surged forward to take a look at the bruising. "I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will be able to fix that in no time."
"It's fine," Ankaa dismissed her worries. Her mind was too preoccupied with the idea that Voldemort might be trying to use Draco in some sort of twisted plot to get to her. It was also probably why Ankaa's Inner Eye had forced the visions at such a time.
There was a brief knock at the door before Ginny stuck her head in. "Your OWL results are here—what happened to your face?"
Ronald broke out into another round of laughter as he and Harry made their way out of the bedroom. Ankaa quickly seized the telescope and launched it at the back of Ronald's head, smirking as she heard the thump followed by a loud curse.
"Ronald Weasley! You mind your language in this house!"
"Sorry, Mum," came the dejected reply.
Ginny was the only person who trailed behind and walked with Ankaa to the living room, where Mrs. Weasley had collected the envelopes and was waiting to hand them out. Hermione, who had burst down the steps in unparalleled speed, was already stood before the woman and eagerly leafing through the envelopes to get to hers.
By the time Ankaa was even able to step in, Hermione had torn the envelope open and was scouring her results anxiously.
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley immediately stepped forward and took Ankaa's face in her hands. "I told Fred and George to clean out their room and put away all those things! I knew someone would get hurt sooner or later!"
Mrs. Weasley ushered Ankaa into a chair despite her insistence otherwise and opened up her copy of The Healer's Helper to leaf through its contents and bruises. Expertly wielding her wand, Mrs. Weasley turned to the girl and muttered an incantation. Other than a cooling press against her skin, Ankaa did not feel as if her bruise was any better. A soft press of her fingertips against the edge of her black-eye confirmed as much.
"It just won't budge," Mrs. Weasley muttered after several more minutes of repeating the incantation and trying several combinations from her book.
Fleur had made her way to the dining room and sat in a lounger to the far side, nursing a cup of hot tea in her hands. She took one look at the bruise on Ankaa's eye and grimaced. Ankaa ignored her as Mrs. Weasley tried another incantation, but to no avail.
"It'll be Fred and George's idea of a funny joke, making sure it can't come off," said Ginny. She deposited herself on the seat across from Ankaa and held out her OWL results. "Want me to open it for you?"
"Go ahead."
Fleur had moved closer and was standing beside Ankaa, peering intently at the bruising. Ankaa noticed Mrs. Weasley's posture tense ever so slightly as she cast a look of pure irritation at the blonde before turning back to leaf through her book for possible antidotes.
"Bill told me 'ow Fred and George are very amusing!" said Fleur, smiling serenely.
"Oh, yes, even more so when I'm not on the receiving end of their pranks." Ankaa merely offered the girl a mocking smile before holding out her hand to Ginny, who wasted no time in depositing her results into her palm and snickering at Fleur's expense.
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS
PASS GRADES FAIL GRADES
OUTSTANDING (O) POOR (P)
EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E) DREADFUL (D)
ACCEPTABLE (A) TROLL (T)
Ankaa Carina Rhyther has achieved:
Astronomy O
Care of Magical Creatures O
Charms O
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Divination O
Herbology E
History of Magic O
Potions O
Transfiguration O
Arithmancy O
Fleur, who was still standing over Ankaa's shoulder was staring at her results. "At Beauxbtons," she started as she took a sip from her mug, "we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think eet was better—"
"How did you do?" asked Ronald, curiously peering over Fleur's shoulder at Ankaa's results. Though, Ankaa had the feeling he only asked so he had a reason to stand so close to Fleur.
Even Ginny seemed to realize, as she cast an unimpressed look to her brother. "Her results are in her hand, Ron, not on Phl—Fleur's face."
Ronald turned a bright red before scampering backwards to where Harry stood, looking down at his own results. By now, Hermione had finished pouring over her own parchment and tried to look incredibly casual as she wandered over to Ankaa's side. With a small roll of her eyes, Ankaa simply held up her parchment for Hermione. They had both received the same number of 'Outstandings' but Hermione looked slightly miffed at the sight before she schooled her expression and offered Ankaa a solemn congratulations.
"Well done!" Mrs. Weasley was ruffling Ronald's hair. "Seven OWLs! That's more than Fred and George got together!"
Ankaa snorted. Once, it may have been a surprise to hear them doing so poorly at school, but Ankaa reminded herself that they were not as book smart as they were street smart. The bruise on her face was a perfect testament to the fact; they knew of magic she had never heard of and were completely unique in the way they interpreted and employed it.
Now that she thought of it, the first year she had truly met the twins and started her friendship with them, they must have been preparing for their OWLs. It's no surprise they only managed seven between the two of them, given that they were more preoccupied with chasing her around the castle to try and get their copy of the Marauders Map from her.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" said Ronald when he noticed her desolate expression at Ankaa's results. "Nine 'Outstandings' each! I bet you're actually disappointed, aren't you?"
Hermione shook her head no, but no one believed her.
Later that night, all of them were settled into the living room, nursing their cups of tea and coffee, when there had been a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" Mrs. Wealsey asked nervously, holding her wand tightly in her hand. "Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Dumbledore, with Sirius, Molly."
Mrs. Weasley opened the door and allowed Sirius and Dumbledore to step inside. The both of them look slightly worse for wear, but they offered the group a smile as they made their way past the threshold and inside.
"My apologies for keeping Sirius away for most of the day," said Dumbledore. "We had some business to attend to."
Harry cast an inquisitive look to his godfather, who merely gave him a pat on the head before heading inside and loading his plate up with food and settling himself on the dinner table. "Order business, Harry," he mumbled through mouthfuls of bread. "I'm afraid it's not for your ears just yet."
"Though, if I may," Dumbledore politely interrupted, "I would like to borrow Ankaa and Harry for a small task. It won't take long, and I shall have them both back by midnight at the latest."
Sirius, who seemed equally unaware of this, raised a brow before looking between Ankaa and Harry. His eyes widened at the sight of the bruise on Ankaa's eye, but she merely shook her head. The two teenagers made their way over to Dumbledore, who led them out of bounds of the protective barrier before turning to them.
"Keep your wands at the ready," he told them both. "Should there be any attack, I give you both permission to use any counterjinx or curse that might occur to you. Though, I suspect that only one of you need worry about this." His twinkling blue eyes focused on Ankaa, but he merely smiled.
"Now, Harry," he turned back to the boy. "You have not, of course, passed your Apparition test. You will need to hold onto my arm very carefully. My left, if you don't mind—my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."
Ankaa spotted his wand arm that was visible through his robes, and noticed the wrinkling black hand. It was almost as if it had been burned and twisted by something, but Dumbledore flexed his fingers for their sake, so they knew it at least worked well enough still.
"A thrilling tale," Dumbledore informed them, "much like the bruise you are sporting, Ms. Rhyther. However, I will regale you with it another time. As you are not aware of our destination tonight if you would please grasp my arm as well."
Ankaa did so, and a split second later the trio Disapparated from the outskirts of the Burrow and reappeared in the midst of a deserted village square that boasted a war memorial at the very centre, along with a few stray fences lined along the side.
"Are you all right?" asked Dumbledore, looking down at Harry who was gulping great lungfuls of the cool, crisp, evening air.
"I'm fine," answered Harry. "But I think I might prefer brooms…"
Ankaa grinned at him as she stepped away and followed Dumbledore as he led them expertly through the streets, crossing several houses and empty inns on their way to wherever they were headed. Idly, Ankaa listened to Dumbledore and Harry talk about his scar, and how he must now be using Occlumency against Harry.
"Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry, no doubt glad to have Voldemort out of his head. Ankaa could not help but agree. Though she had only felt it once, the feeling of having someone push past your defences and take a peek into your mind was not a welcoming thought.
"Where are we?"
"This, Ms. Rhyther, is the charming village of Buddleigh Babberton."
Awful name. "And what are we doing here?"
"Ah, yes. Well, I have lost count of the number f times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short."
"The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
Dumbledore cast a sideways look at Ankaa, something twinkling behind his eyes. "Something of the sort. But we are, in short, here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."
"How can we help with that, sir?"
"Left here, Harry." To the boy's question, Dumbledore gave a vague reply. "I do think we'll find a use for you both."
They continued walking through the streets and up narrow pathways. Harry asked some inane questions about Apparating straight into this colleagues homes, which Ankaa thought was ridiculous since he should know most of the dwellings he had stayed at were protected by Anti-Apparition charms. Somewhere in the village, a clock struck an hour from midnight.
Ankaa listened to Harry and Dumbledore's conversation about what had been happening in the Prophet recently. They discussed pamphlets and several disappearances, noting how the Ministry was making much more of an effort to keep the people informed under Scrimgeour's cabinet.
They neared a small, neat stone house set in its own garden.
"He's got an army of Inferi," mumbled Harry as he trailed back in thought after Dumbledore, walking side by side with Ankaa. "That's horrible."
Ankaa caught him by the sleeve of his shirt as Dumbledore stopped dead in his tracks, preventing Harry from running into him.
"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."
Ankaa peeked around the headmaster and up the small pathway to the main door that was hanging off its hinges. Immediately, her hand tightened around her wand as she took in the deserted street.
"Wand out and follow me," said Dumbledore.
He opened the gate and travelled swiftly and silently up the garden path. Ankaa let Harry follow right after and took up the rear.
"Lumos."
The house was in shambles. A piano was turned on its side, its keys were strewn haphazardly across the floor amongst the shards of glass and crockery from the windows and cabinets on the walls. Dumbledore raised the tip of his wand higher, and Ankaa watched the light bounce across the wall to where something maroon and viscous was dripping off the ceiling and onto the floor.
Beside her, Harry inhaled sharply at the sight of the blood.
"Not pretty, is it?" Dumbledore said heavily. "Yes, something horrible has happened here."
Ankaa kept close to the duo as the scrutinized the wreckage and made their way further into the house. Curiously, Ankaa stepped around some of the shards of glass that had fallen against the floor from the collapsed chandelier, and surveyed the room.
"Maybe they dragged him off, Professor."
"But there's no tracks," Ankaa muttered. Dumbledore and Harry turned to her. "There's no tracks of people… this looks odd."
"I agree with Ms. Rhyther," said Dumbledore. He turned and peered intently behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.
"You mean he's—"
"Still here somewhere? Yes."
Without so much as a warning, Dumbledore swooped and punched the top of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Merlin's beard!"
The armchair shot up and creaked heavily, transforming into a stubby old man. He stood there, half-couch and half-man, shaking his arms and legs to dispel the charm and bring himself back to normal.
"No need to disfigure me, Albus!"
"Well I must say you make a very convincing armchair, Horace," said Dumbledore, giving the man a pleasant smile.
"It's all in the upholstery, I come by the stuffing naturally," the man answered gruffly, still too occupied in shaking his leg despite the incessant creaking. "What gave me away?"
"Dragon's blood," Dumbledore held his wand up to illuminate the wall beside Ankaa and Harry. "And coincidentally, young Ms. Rhyther happens to be too smart to fool."
"Oho," said the man, his eyes flying between the two of them swiftly before they widened slightly. "Oho!"
"Oh yes, introductions," Dumbledore gestured between the two of them. "Harry, Ankaa, I'd like you to meet an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."
Slughorn seemed awestruck at the sight of the two teenagers, who merely stood back and offered him small smiles.
"So what's with all the theatrics, Horace? You weren't, by any chance, waiting for someone else were you?"
"Someone else? I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Slughorn replied defensively. Ankaa sensed the irritation in his tone as he huffed, "Oh, alright. The Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me for over a year. Do you know what that's like? You can only say not to these people so many times."
Ankaa raised a brow inquisitively, taking another look at the place around them. Apparently, it was a Muggle household and Slughorn had only taken up the home because the muggles in question were in the Canary Islands.
Ankaa remembered hearing about several other known Death Eaters, like Igor Karkaroff, who had defected and were now washing up dead. The fact that the Death Eaters were trying to actively recruit instead of simply murder Slughorn to their side must mean that he was a relatively important man.
Though, looking at him now, as he stood next to Dumbledore and helped the man right everything in the house and bring it back to its pristine condition, Slughorn hardly seemed threatening. A quiet squeaking brought Ankaa out of her intense scrutiny of Dumbledore's former colleague, and she turned her head to the sound of the glass piece from the chandelier that was trapped under Harry's foot.
The two of them watched with great fascination at how the little piece of glass wriggled under Harry's foot, almost as if it were alive. Noting that both adults were staring at them, Ankaa took Harry by the sleeve and pulled him back, letting the piece of glass fly to the air and gently take its place amongst the fixed chandelier.
"That was fun!" Dumbledore smiled at the two of them. "Do you mind if I use the loo?"
"No, of course!" Slughorn waved him away, his wondrous eyes turning on Harry and Ankaa a few steps away before a wide smile light up his face as he glanced between them. Noting that she still had a grip on Harry's sleeve, Ankaa immediately let go and stepped aside, pointedly glancing at anywhere but him.
Dumbledore gave Ankaa a small wink as he made his way past her, offering her nothing more than a simple and serene smile as Slughorn called after him.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Albus. The answer is still no—absolutely and unequivocally no!"
Slughorn noted Ankaa's eyes on him, and offered her a small smile, awkwardly pressing his arms to his side as he took in the scene before him. Ankaa surmised he looked like a child in a candy shop, gazing upon two of the newest sweet treats like he was trying to resist temptation.
An awkward silence passed between the trio again, and Ankaa took this chance to survey the room. It was stuffy and cluttered, but in a cozy and welcoming sort of way; there were footstools and soft chair littered across the room, while things of all kinds lined the shelves, ranging from chocolates to drinks and ancient-looking books.
"You're very like your father," Slughorn told Harry, "except for your eyes, of course, you have—"
"My mother's eyes, yeah."
"Lily… lovely Lily. She was exceedingly bright, your mother—both your mothers. I have only seen a handful of people so talented at magic. Your mothers were some of my absolute favourites. Look, there they are, right at the front."
He gestured to a hutch on the side of the wall that housed several frames of magical photographs. Ankaa stepped forward first, reaching for one of the pictures that held a photograph of an older Slughorn, a slightly slimmer version of him with more hair on his head than now, and several students dressed in gowns and suits around him.
Beside her, Harry held onto one side of the frame so he could see it better. The vision of the redhead woman—girl, Ankaa corrected herself, because Lily Evans was a mere teenager here, no older than herself—on one side of the Professor and Maya Archer on the other. Ankaa's mother, who sported a blinding smile and long raven hair, looked straight at her and held out her glass.
"I was sorry to hear of your mother's passing in the Prophet." Slughorn's voice sounded far away, but he had stepped close to the hutch and was looking down at the photograph from Ankaa's left side.
"Thank you, sir," whispered Ankaa, not daring to speak any louder for fear that her voice would betray her. She passed the frame onto Harry, who held it securely in his hand and traced over his mother's face.
"I was quite proud to have her in my house, you see," said Slughorn, pointing to another picture on one of the higher shelves. Carefully, she reached for the frame and pulled it closer. Slughorn pointed to a few other memorable people on the shelves, ranging from players in Quidditch teams to editors in the Daily Prophet, but Ankaa was focused on the picture in her hands.
In this photograph, Slughorn was sat in an office, with a few members of Slytherin House sitting around him. Ankaa could easily spot her mother on his right-hand side, but the member to the left was unknown to her until an almost forgotten memory resurfaced.
"Don't bother wasting your time, he's a lost cause."
"Is he?"
It felt like such a long time ago when Ankaa had ventured into the past to take a look through the pensive and see her mother's memories, but Ankaa remembered the teenager now. Regulus Black, Sirius' younger brother. She had seen him in her mother's memories when he had been leaving the kitchens one particular night, no doubt after a confrontation with his brother, and had run into Maya right outside.
"Ah, yes, Regulus Black. Your uncle, isn't he?"
Is he?
Ankaa nodded nonetheless and placed the photograph back on the shelf. Harry reached for another one with the Slytherin Quidditch team, where Regulus was sat right next to Slughorn in his uniform and with his broom.
"I taught the whole Black family, except your father. It's a shame, what a talented boy. I got Regulus when he came along but I would've liked the set."
There was a strange fascination in his voice when he spoke of Sirius. Ankaa understood now, standing before the hutch of trophies Slughorn seemed to be collecting through his years at Hogwarts, why Dumbledore had elected to bring her and Harry along to persuade Slughorn to come out of retirement. Slughorn had an affinity for all that was shiny and glittering, and as far as people went, Harry and Ankaa were currently the most shiny and glittery specs in the crowd.
"Horace," Dumbledore called as he re-entered. He held up a magazine he had found, "do you mind if I take this? I do love knitting patterns."
"Of course, but you're not leaving are you?" Slughorn sounded disappointed as he glanced between the trio.
"Oh, I think I know a lost cause when I see one. Regrettable." Dumbledore held up his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."
"Yes… well…"
Ankaa turned and took Harry by the sleeve, turning to give the ex-Hogwarts Professor a small smile.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said, "but we really must be going now. Good-bye!"
If he was confused by her sudden need to leave, Harry certainly did not let on and followed after her quietly after shooting his own quick farewell the stupefied ex-Professor.
"What are you doing?" Harry whispered as they made their way out of the front door and into the garden. "Dumbledore was still speaking to him!"
"We've done what Dumbledore brought us here to do," was all Ankaa got to say when the Headmaster came gliding out of the house and joined the two teenagers with a smile.
Right as he joined them, there was a shout from inside the house.
"All right, all right, I'll do it!" Slughorn wobbled outside to see the trio and eyed Dumbledore. "But I want Professor Merrythought's old office, not the water closet I had before! And I expect a raise—these are mad times we live in, mad!"
Dumbledore only chuckled and nodded before turning and leading them to the garden. Ankaa offered Slughorn a simple wave in farewell before following after the other two.
"Well done, both of you," said Dumbledore.
"I didn't do anything."
"Oh, yes you did, Harry," answered Dumbledore. "You and Ankaa showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Do you see why?"
Harry seemed stumped, but Ankaa nodded.
"He likes to collect important people... or rather, people he thinks will go on to become important. Luckily for you, Potter and I are already somewhat important. Not to mention that Hogwarts will offer him the added protection he's been missing for the past year with the Death Eaters after him."
"Right you are, Ms. Rhyther." Turning to Harry, Dumbledore added, "Horace likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. I tell you this not to turn you against your Professor, but to put you both on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you both. You would be the crowning jewels of his collection; 'the Boy Who Lived'… or 'the Chosen One' as you are called these days, and 'the Greatest Seer'."
Dumbledore offered his arm to Harry and Ankaa, who gripped it tightly as he brought them back to the outskirts of the Burrow.
"Before you return, I would like to have a word with you both." He paused right before the door and turned to the two of them. "It is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."
"Private—with you?"
"Yes," Dumbledore answered Harry. "I think it is time I took a greater hand in your education." Turning to Ankaa, he gave her an indecipherable look. "As well as yours, Ms. Rhyther. Though I confess, I will not be as great as Madam Vablatsky, I do think I might be able to aid you in the theoretical aspect. In addition, there are several things I would like to explore with each of you."
Harry and Ankaa nodded. Private lessons with Dumbledore were not specifically something Ankaa was looking forward to, but knowing that she could speak to him about her visions of the Dark Mark and her worries about Draco was slightly reassuring. Besides, both Harry and Ankaa had been marked in some way; they needed all the help they could get at this point. If it meant taking extra lessons with Dumbledore to improve their abilities, whether as a seer or simply as an Auror, it simply had to be done.
"Now, I am sure Sirius has stressed upon you both the importance of staying at the Burrow and not wandering off as you please. While you are staying here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have brought a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly—all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, as they are more concerned with your safety. It would be poor repayment if you risked yourselves while staying with them."
Ankaa had the feeling it was meant more for Harry than it was for her, as the boy nodded quickly and muttered that he understood.
"Very well, then," said Dumbledore, holding out his uninjured hand, and gesturing for the both of them to continue on inside. "I shall see you both back at Hogwarts. Goodnight."
Sirius had stayed up to make sure the two of them returned on time, and he welcomed them back the moment they stepped inside. However, seeing as tensions between them were still high, Ankaa simply offered him a look in acknowledgement before venturing up the stairs and getting ready for bed. A part of her felt as if she should have lingered, maybe spoken to him about her visions and doubts before relaying them to Dumbledore, but her pride won out. She quickly settled into bed as the exhaustion from the night before caught up to her.
Ankaa was no closer to understanding what all her visions meant, but at least she had some sort of lead. She knew she had to speak to Dumbledore about it at the very least and try to help Draco in any way that she possibly could.
Notes:
Hello! Sorry for the late update, but I couldn't finish the readthrough of the chapter early enough. Still, happy Monday and I hope you enjoyed it. I'm very excited to hear your theories about where we're headed :)
NaRuKo-InuTaiSHo-XD: Thank you! Hope you liked this chapter as well!
19irene96: I hope you like this chapter! There's a lot in the visions, but the way that Ankaa's interacting with them now is changing. They're no longer immersive and all-encompassing but rather quick flashes of things she must make sense of... I wonder what that means. And you'll see Draco soon, I promise! He'll be in the next chapter, and I can't wait for us to get to what we've got planned. I love their friendship too, it's one of my favourites to write. Sadly, things are taking a bit of a dark turn, as we know. So let's see how these two navigate it.
Finrina: Oh my god thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me! I spend so long working on plot details that sometimes go ignored or are largely irrelevant, so it feels really nice to hear that people appreciate it. I'm glad this is something that keeps you coming back and honestly, that's such an honour. I really hope you enjoy it all the way through to the end, and I can't wait to have you along for this journey!
KirikaAndo: Ah, I see you got to chapter 26... the dreaded chapter. You have no idea how many people review about that one lol I think it's my most reviewed chapter to date. I'm really sorry I made you cry but hopefully, you're still reading on.
epicurious: I got your review as I was finishing this chapter, and man I feel bad for dragging you back just as you finished binging the story but also I'm really curious as to what you think of this chapter! Thank you so much for your kind words, you don't know how much it means to me to hear how much you loved it! Hopefully you like this chapter too, and I can't wait to hear what you think of it!
As always, thank you to everyone who has followed/favourited.
Thank you to Lame Lenny, Mlmeenan, mlgwither, Joan Joan Bouchouz, CP Nightshade, 76, yurimlp, epicurious, 97, minnatarek, Tenegai, and LostInThought2016 for adding this story to your favourites and follows!
See you all next Monday (or sooner methinks),
- E