Disclaimer:
I do not pretend to own the Harry Potter world or any character within it: that right belongs to the eminent J. K. Rowling, to whom I most respectfully yield.
Neither do I pretend to be an expert on the early legends of King Arthur and the fabled Isle of Avalon. They belong to posterity and my imagination.
If, in writing, I offend someone, I apologize, but stand by my opinions. I write this solely for my own amusement and for the appreciation of my audience.
I have no money, don't sue me, I'm not worth it, and there are bigger fish to fry.
Chapter Five
They didn't see Anna for the rest of the day, nor at all on Tuesday, and it wasn't until late Wednesday night before she made an appearance in the Griffindor common room, looking gaunt and exhausted, as though she'd been severely sick.
As soon as she entered she was mobbed by a crowd of Griffindors, all speaking and babbling at once. Wren and Dimitri had to break up the group, reminding them of the consequences of mentioning the 'incident', and giving Anna some much needed space to breathe. She walked over, threw off her over-robe and tunic and plopped next to Harry and Ron, who were playing chess, wearing her thin silk shirt and breeches.
"Are you all right then?" Ron asked, furrowing his brows in concern, "We've not seen you for a few days, we was getting worried."
"I'll live" Anna said softly, staring into the flames "it wasn't terribly pleasant, but I suppose you needed to see it. Goddess bless me, I'm tired. It takes the stuffing right out of your soul."
"Aye, but you'll live," Wren sat herself down next to the fire, as spry as any student, despite her solid silver hair.
"She could have died," Hermione said angrily, from her usual chair by the fire, upset that her maybe-friend had put herself or had been put, as Hermione thought, in such danger.
"Many have" said the voice of Dimitri, the taciturn Druid who'd patrolled the common room and growled, the entire time Anna had been gone.
He laid out flat on his back, with his head pillowed comfortably in Wren's lap. "I've seen it be, three or four days some have gone, burning up like some perverted torch. Not a pleasant way to go."
"I don't imagine there are many pleasant ways to go." Harry commented, trying to concentrate on the chess game in front of him and not the girl sitting at his side. That thin silk shirt didn't cover much; he could see the green and red dragons, which twined around her wrists like bracelets, spitting magical flames up her forearms.
She put up her boots and a footstool rushed to place itself under her ankles. She did look tired, Harry thought, and thinner. She wasn't all that large to begin with, having that typically petite, fine boned frame, which made her seem quite fairylike. The ordeal she'd just endured seemed to take off any sparse flesh, honing her body down to the bare essentials. There weren't many essentials left.
"There are more pleasanter ways to go than that I assure you." Anna grunted, lapsing into half-sleep, eyes shuttered against the brightness of the flames.
"No more of the dreary talk," Wren ordered sternly, "Dimitri, go get your harp. We need some music to charm that savage beast."
Anna made a show of baring her teeth and rumbling at Wren, who to everybody's surprise and amusement, returned the gesture. Dimitri returned from his room with his lap harp, and set it up in the chair next to Hermione. He began to play, soft lilting tunes, with Wren singing along in an equally soporific manner.
Hermione wasn't quite sure when the harp song ended and she fell asleep, but she jerked to awareness when a flash of light caught her eye. She almost lifted her head, but when she caught a face in the flames she dropped it back down instantly and pretended to sleep.
Ron was sleeping next to Harry on the floor, Dimitri's cloak thrown over them both, and Hermione was still in the chair by the fire, pretending to be asleep and unmoving, she strained her ears listening to the voice in the flames
"Yes Mother," Anna spoke softly, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire.
"Did it work?" the woman asked, Hermione couldn't see her face, but the voice was female and well spoken.
"Yes Mother, Lady Raven assured me that the spell had taken." Anna nodded.
"No fatalities then," the Lady sounded pleasantly surprised, "Good."
"The incantation we used was considerably less powerful then the one we use at home, if there had been…problems…there would also have been some rather unpleasant questions." Anna brushed at her hair, curly black and hanging loose all the way down her back, "I didn't think you wanted that."
"The idiots in the ministry can't touch us; it's been in their charter since the moment we allowed them to rule. I wasn't worried about that." The Lady said dismissively.
"Dumbledore can, he's almost as influential as you are, though not nearly as powerful." Anna observed.
"I suppose." The Lady said, sounding unconcerned, "And you?"
"I'm alive," Anna said anger tingeing her voice, "Though Goddess knows I shouldn't be. That was almost enough to kill me."
"I told you that you could handle that much power, you need to have faith" the voice sounded adult and amused, as if Anna had been a reluctant child afraid of the dark, not someone who'd almost died trying to do magic she wasn't yet ready for.
"Aye, Lady, but to risk it all on a demonstration? I don't think it was wise." Anna argued. "Ye'd be in sore shape if I was killed now."
"Did the latest set of protections hold?" the Lady enquired anxiously.
"No," Anna grumbled, "I spent two days in their hospital wing with the burns running up and down my back. The impervious charm doesn't seem to work."
"Let me see," the woman requested. Hermione saw Anna rise and pull off her silk shirt, completely bare underneath and turn her back to the flames, flipping her hair to the front to bare all of her back. Hermione's eyes closed with an almost audible snap, but the image of Anna skin, both burnt and tattooed seared into her mind anyhow.
"You're lucky you put on that weight over the summer," the Lady remarked, "otherwise it'd have gone straight through you. Have Raven take out the impervious charm, try the flame freezing charm, it works better, at least."
"It tickles," Anna protested.
"I'm sure you'll manage" the adult said wryly, "What about young Potter? Have you made any progress?"
"Define 'progress'" Anna laughed hollowly, "He tolerates my presence, that's close enough for the both of us."
"Pity," the flames remarked, "It would be easier if you could lure him to bed, at least in my mind. He's teenage boy, you're pretty enough, it shouldn't be that hard."
"The phoenix incantation works at the distance I'm at, I don't think we should jeopardize it by trying for more. He is a Griffindor. You above all should know about that." Hermione could hear silk sliding over skin and chanced a look, she was fully dressed again.
"Have you got to work on the potion?"
"Their potions master was a Death Eater; he can take care of it."
"Who?" the voice sounded concerned.
"Snape, Serverus Snape." Anna shrugged, "He's not a very pleasant man, but he understands why I need it done. The Binding Potion should be ready within the month."
"You've done well," the voice sounded pleased, "Very well my child."
"Thank you mother," Anna replied.
There was another flash and Anna slowly rose from her seated position on the rug, and walked past Hermione's chair. She reached out and caught the edge of Anna's shirttail as she passed. Their eyes met and Anna knew that Hermione had heard everything.
"He will not be harmed" Anna spoke softly, so as not to wake up the boys.
"A Binding Potion, the Phoenix charm, sleeping with Harry!" Hermione hissed, "That sure as hell doesn't sound like it!"
"Firstly," Anna said seriously, "I give myself to no man, the Goddess holds my virginity. The Lady of the Lake herself can take that to Gringotts." Anna tossed her hair, becoming seriously annoyed at herself for explaining things to Hermione; a true priestess would have simply modified Hermione's memory with nary a qualm.
"Secondly, the Phoenix Incantation works against me, not him, I could no more lift my hand against Harry than cut it off." She waved the aforementioned appendage in front of Hermione's face and the Dragons on her wrists spat magical flames up her arms in annoyance.
"Thirdly, you, all three of you, underestimate Serverus Snape. He is as dedicated to the Dark Lord's destruction as any of you, even if he's rather unpleasant about it. The binding potion will not hold Harry Potter against his will, of that you have my word." Anna tucked the tail of her shirt back into her breeches.
"What good is that?" Hermione scoffed, giving Anna's nearest available body part, her hip, a shove. "You've already proven more powerful than anyone here, it would be easy enough to break it and no one could stop you. Not even the Ministry can, I heard that, as well."
"Do you want to see my back?" Anna hissed, angry that her loyalty had been questioned, "Will that be proof enough that I can keep my word, even for that old woman's experiments?"
Hermione threw off the white robe that someone covered her with, and faced Anna, hands set on hips and eyes blazing. "What would that prove? I know you can endure pain. Tell me what you're up to."
"I can't," Anna pleaded, angry with Hermione for forcing the issue and herself for not simply Obliviating this from her mind. "You just have to trust me, even though you have no reason to do it. Trust me."
"Why should I?" Hermione asked defiantly.
Later, they could look back at this moment and marvel that the fate of the wizarding world had at one time rested on the shaky bond of trust between two sixteen year old girls. Now, all they could do was to look at each other and glower.
Anna knew if word ever got out that she'd allowed Hermione to know even this small portion of her orders, without modifying her memory immediately, she'd never set foot off of Avalon again. Hermione needed to know that this secretive stranger would care for her friend, almost her brother, as much as she herself would, especially when he had more than the weight of the world to carry on his slim shoulders.
One of the boys snorted in his sleep, drawing their attention, Hermione's eyes drifting to the red headed wonder that she so exasperatingly loved. Anna's were drawn to the black hair of the young man she'd been raised to protect at all costs. Identical expressions of feminine concern crossed their faces, and they glanced at each other.
"We'll wake them up if we keep arguing," Hermione remarked.
"Heaven forbid," Anna murmured.
"I still don't trust you." Hermione emphasised, just for good measure.
"I don't trust you, too" Anna said smugly. Hermione threw up her hands, but they both smiled. For the moment, at least, they were in accord. Silently they walked up the stairs to Griffindor tower.