Chapter 18) Christmas at the Cambridges

Selected Listening: God Put a Smile Upon Your Face- Coldplay

Anastasia stood in the Leaky Cauldron, her rucksack strung over her shoulder, Albus at her side. She clutched his bony hand, staring into the embers of the fireplace, wishing the ones they waited for would never emerge, that something would keep them from coming to take her. If Grandad hadn't escorted her, she would have run away then.

The Cambridges' appeared exactly at noon. At this time, the other Hogwarts students would be boarding the train to go home for break. Of course, most of her friends would be staying at the castle, having lovely adventures and feasts in her absence. She missed them already.

The slovenly couple greeted Anastasia steadily. They tried to take her by each arm, but she pulled away.

"No!" she said and rubbed at where they had touched her. "Let me say goodbye to grandad…privately," she added when they stared on anxiously.

"Sure," Eli said graciously, and guided Tamara over to an alcove table in the corner.

Anastasia strode up to Albus. His eyes glistened with sadness and guilt beneath his half-moon glasses.

"I don't know why you let this happen," she told him. "But it won't change my mind. My home is with you, at Hogwarts. I don't need another family."

Albus leaned forward and hugged her around the shoulders before pulling away to look at her.

"I understand…but keep an open heart. They are your grandparents after all."

Anastasia didn't say anything as he stepped away from her, and the Cambridges returned to the space in front of the floo.

"Albus told us you didn't like apparating, so this will be a bit easier," Eli suggested, taking a large handful of floo from the urn next to the fireplace and handing some to Tamara and to her. The grit fell into her hand like sand in an hourglass. Two weeks. She thought to herself. She could survive two weeks, couldn't she?

The Cambridges stepped into the fireplace.

"Shady Knoll," Eli announced disappearing.

Anastasia looked to Tamara to repeat the example, but the old woman ushered her forward unapologetically.

"You next," she said shortly.

"But—" Anastasia started as she stumbled over the threshold.

"No buts—shady knoll!" Tamara repeated.

Anastasia repeated the words, threw the floo powder, and vanished into green flames, catching Albus's somber gaze one last time.

Anastasia tripped somewhere in the floo and stumbled into a room that was completely cylindrical. The walls were of a light wood grain, and the furniture carved out of the floor, ceiling, and walls. Looked up to the ceiling and realized there was none, only branches stretched above.

"Are we inside a tree?" she asked.

"Indeed!" Eli answered, helping her to her feet. "This is our home."

"Oh…" Anastasia said, doing her best to relax her critical glance, "well, that's nice—"

Tamara stepped through the floo and continued on.

"Shady Knoll is in the Sherwood district of Little Nottingham. This is a wizarding village made of primarily Hufflepuff families. Helga Hufflepuff's family, our ancestors, lived in this area."

Anastasia thought she remembered grandad talking about a village where Gryffindor was said to have lived, and how it was primarily a wizarding village today. She supposed Little Nottingham was the Hufflepuff equivalent.

"You see," Eli said, walking down the spiral staircase to the kitchen on the ground floor. Anastasia followed with Tamara behind as Eli began preparing a pot of tea, "Hufflepuffs don't really care for drama, tend to avoid it, actually, so they set aside this neighborhood to live as drama-free as they could. Of course, people of other houses still live here, some Ravenclaws of course, but they tend to also dislike drama because all they want to do is read."

"So, what is it that you do for work?" Anastasia asked. She noticed dried thrushes and wildflowers hanging from string on the walls and a distinct smell of singed cauldron starter. There was a deep brass sink in the kitchen holding a large colander and test tubes of herbs growing hydroponically in the window.

"I'm an apothecarist," Tamara said, "I make most of the medicinal remedies for the village. While you're hear, I'd like to teach you how to make a few things. It's always handy to know your healing potions."

"Oh, alright," Anastasia said. At least it would keep her mind busy. She stared around again and found Eli's cheery gaze. He wore a plaid button-up shirt, navy pants, and suspenders under his navy robe.

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a farmer," he responded, tugging at his suspenders with his thumbs. "I grow all the plants and ingredients Tamara needs for her potions, and I also have chickens!" he gestured excitedly to the window in the curved wall. Anastasia came closer. It looked out over to a sort of backyard, where the small plots with hardy green leaves were covered in snow, and a lonely chicken house sat beyond.

"Of course, it's winter now, so all the birds are inside the coop and I've already harvested most of the crops. All that's left are chard and mugwort, but you can help me with that tomorrow if you like." He said proudly.

Anastasia didn't know if she really wanted to make potions or learn horticulture over her holiday, but she supposed if it kept her from being angry all the time, it might be worth it.

The Cambridges then showed her back up the stairs, through the living room, and to the second floor where three doors sat in a line.

"The first room is yours, the second is the bathroom, the third is our bedroom," Tamara explained. Eli hobbled ahead of her and opened the door closest to them. Anastasia stepped in to find a small bedroom with furniture carved from the tree's structure. There was a four post bed with a quilt and pillow, a small writing desk, and a trunk seemingly full of more old quilts. Stained glass pieces hung from the ceiling, and a patterned rug lie on the floor.

"It's Holly's old room, actually," Eli said with a sentimental tone. Anastasia dropped her rucksack on the bed and looked around. She thought to herself that it didn't seem much changed, as if her mother had lived there as a girl only yesterday.

"It's nice," she said with worry, "thanks."

Her grandparents stared at her with bright smiles as if they were looking into a piece of the past, but it filled Anastasia's stomach with dread.

"We'll let you settle in, now," Tamara commented, "Come down when you're ready to help with dinner."

Over the next few days, it seems all Anastasia did was help. In the morning she woke and ate the small bit of bread and cheese her grandmother gave her for breakfast. When she asked for more, Tamara said there was none and she needed to wait until lunch. When she pressed for a snack, Tamara called her spoiled from castle food.

Determined to prove her wrong, Anastasia helped all morning making apothecary potions with Tamara, and all afternoon tending to mugwort and swiss chard with Eli. She asked if they could go out and see the rest of the village, but her grandmother said the workday wasn't over yet. When they did finally go see the village on the third day, it was only to run errands, and Anastasia was scolded several times for wandering off by herself to look at things in nearby shops. When she argued that she had shopped alone, since she was ten, and wouldn't get lost, Tamara said that was nonsense and that teenagers couldn't be trusted by themselves.

At least once a day, Anastasia tried to broach the situation of the trial, and how she enjoyed living with Albus and she really wasn't interested in living anywhere else except Hogwarts. Eli would ignore her comments and talk about how the crop yield was so good that year, and Tamara would begin insulting her father, only ending in shouting matches that had Anastasia hiding in her room for most of the evening.

And so it went on, for five long days.

One evening, tucked away in her mother's old room, stomach sick and disgruntled, Anastasia lay staring at the circular four-paned window up above her head, noting a few stars in the constellations above, wishing for anything that would help her remove herself from the situation early.

In the middle of the night, a sharp rapping pulled her from a myriad of muddled dreams. She looked up to find a familiar black owl, pecking at the window. Anastasia reached up, fumbled with the lock, and pushed it open. It landed at the foot of her bed, tiny leg outstretched with a package wrapped in a silk emerald handkerchief. She untied the knots holding it together, and the cloth fell away, revealing an embroidered silver DM on one corner and another colorful box labeled as Sneakoscope.

Underneath the box was a note.

Dear Anastasia,

I tried talking to father. It didn't go well. Apparently, once charges have been pressed, they can't be un-charged. Any time I mention you, he threatens to send me to Durmstrang. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about your situation.

That being the case, I hope you'll accept this in exchange for the book. Saw you looking in Hogsmeade. Now we're even.

Merry Christmas,

Draco

Anastasia crumpled the note and held it close to her. Draco had tried for her. Even if he had failed, wasn't that worth something?

She leaned over the side of her bed and grabbed the rucksack on the floor. She rummaged through it, but as she did a sharp pain hit her opposite hand.

"Ow, ow!" she said to the owl, ripping her hand away. The red of her blood dripped down her arm as the owl stared at her indignantly. "I don't have any treats."

The owl cawed angrily and flew into the night without waiting for the book.

Anastasia, still slightly disoriented from sleep, ambled to the bathroom in the hall. She turned on the faucet and washed the first of the blood away, but it was a rather deep cut kept weeping even after she applied pressure.

Not wanting to bother the Cambridges, she wandered back to her bedroom. The only thing she had was the handkerchief. With her left hand and her teeth, she tied it into a knot around her wound. The embroidered initials stuck out of the knot and stared back at her. She fell back into bed and slipped into sleep.

In her slumber, she clutched the handkerchief.

When she woke, she found her wound was still sore, and she had bled through the cloth so that part of the fabric was stained black. She went to the bathroom, washed it, and rewrapped her wound.

She found herself missing him more than she ever had.

No, she thought to herself, tucking the initials away under the knot, that's crazy, I don't miss him. I'm worried about him.

She didn't want him to be sent to Durmstrang, especially on account of her.

Anastasia went back to her room and got dressed. She opened the sneakoscope and stuffed it into her pocket, even though Harry thought it didn't work.

When she went downstairs, Tamara stared critically at her hand.

"What's that?" she asked. Anastasia hesitated to tell her. Tamara grabbed her hand and tore the handkerchief off.

"Hey!" Anastasia yelled. The older woman twisted her hand around to examine.

"That's a mean bite. Who's been sending you owls?" she asked.

"A friend!" she said, "give that back!"

Tamara looked down at the handkerchief and stared critically at the initials.

"The Malfoy boy? Does Lucius Malfoy know about that? Is he telling you things about the trial?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"No!" Anastasia said and snatched back the bit of cloth. "No, he hasn't. He doesn't know a thing about it. Besides, this isn't even his! It actually belongs to…Dean McLaggen…" Anastasia tried to say unsuspiciously.

"Like I believe that for one minute…come on now, let's get it healed up. No reason to let it sit like that."

Tamara grabbed her arm again and led her to the apothecary room before letting go. The morning sun shined brightly and bounced amongst all the glass bottles filled with potions. Anastasia stood in the corner, arms crossed, handkerchief clutched in her hand. She watched her grandmother grab one ingredient and another and pour them into the cauldron. In total the potion only took about fifteen minutes, and when she was done, she dipped a stirring stick in and pulled out a dollop of salve.

"Alright, do you want it healed up or not?" Tamara asked expectantly. Anastasia stuffed the handkerchief in her pocket, walked over, and sat in the chair, offering her hand across the table. Tamara wiped the salve onto her hand and rubbed it in gently. Anastasia felt the spot go numb. Then Tamara took out her wand and aimed it at the cut.

"Parvum sanitatem," she whispered, and the bite marks vanished. "There," she said gruffly. "Would do the Malfoys some good to buy a kinder mail owl…"

"Thank you," Anastasia said quietly, but wouldn't look at her. The sneakoscope in her pocket stayed quiet.

Maybe the Cambridges meant well.

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, Eli announced they would be going to a Christmas party with some other families at a nearby tavern.

"Who's going this year?" Tamara asked.

"Oh, all the usuals, the Abbots, the Smiths, the Finch-Fletchleys. I don't know if the Boneses are coming or not."

Tamara grumbled something about not caring to see Amelia Bones.

"We might as well go see. We go every year," Eli said, "I'm sure you know some of them, don't you, Anastasia?" he asked. Anastasia nodded.

"Yeah, I do," she said quietly.

"Fantastic, we'll leave at four then…"

Anastasia walked through the village with her grandparents. Most of the townspeople smiled warmly, carrying baskets of cookies and stained-glass lanterns through the white winter evening.

They arrived at the tavern, a warm wooden cabin with jolly sounds echoing from within. The host guided them into a private party room with a sitting area by the fireplace and a large table set for at least twelve people. Anastasia immediately saw all her Hufflepuff friends and their families including Justice Bones. Even the Longbottoms, Neville and his grandmother were present. Anastasia piped a nervous hello to the adults, quickly fielding their warm greetings, and then went to sit with the others her age.

"Hi Anastasia," they greeted in various tones of friendliness. They all had on colorful hand-knit sweaters, and even Anastasia wore her Weasley sweater that evening.

"Do you lot come here every year?" she asked.

"Yes," Susan said cheerily beside her. "We were all homeschooled together before Hogwarts. It's always nice to see each other."

"Your grandparents taught botany and foraging," Zacharias said.

"How is the holiday going, Stasia?" Neville asked politely.

Anastasia stared down at the table, not answering. When the others sat in awkward silence long enough, Justin jumped in, jetting his hand across the table to shake.

"I have to thank you," he said. "Our petition is going to the board for January's meeting. We think they might consider it!"

Anastasia gave him a soft smile back.

"That's great, Justin."

Over dinner, the six students chattered merrily about school and their breaks thus far. There was a white elephant game, where Anastasia ended up with a wind-up billywig top. After the game, mugs of hot butterbeer were passed around the room with toffee cake, and some stronger spirits for the adults. Upon returning to her seat with her steaming mug, Anastasia tried to shove the toy in her pocket one-handed, only to have the handkerchief fall onto the floor.

"Oh," Hannah said, bending down to grab it, "you must have dropped—" she picked it up and the initials shone on the cloth wad as she handed it to Anastasia. Hannah grinned.

"So, I suppose that fear of yours is gone, eh?" she asked. Anastasia paused. She had forgotten Hannah was right behind her during the boggart exercise, and that she might have also heard what the Draco figment whispered to her.

"Not really, but erm—" she took the cloth and shoved it back in her pocket as she sat.

"Are you talking about the boggart?" Susan asked. "My aunt said you referenced Malfoy as your first friend in the trial. Is that true?"

Anastasia turned a deep shade of red. She didn't miss Justin's glare.

"Malfoy was so worried after that class. I told him he should talk to you. Did he talk to you?" Hannah asked, giddy at the thought of playing match maker.

"Not any more than he usually does," Anastasia tried. "We're not that close anymore."

"I should say not after the little stunt he pulled in Hogsmeade." Justin offered "You wouldn't put up with that blood purist hogwash—"

"Oh shh, Justin," Hannah waved him off. "They'd be adorable together."

Susan nodded in agreement.

Anastasia sat, arms wrapped around her stomach, her entire body turning warm in embarrassment. Neville, seeing her discomfort, tried to dismiss the subject.

"Malfoy's a jerk and Anastasia knows it. You'd never date him…right Stasia?" Neville asked. Anastasia balked, remembering Hermione's words about lifeline spells, and her later discussion with Draco in the library.

"The only reason I have to talk to him is that he's my godmother's son…that's all," she stated strictly and took a bite of her toffee cake.

"That wasn't a no," Zacharias pointed out.

"But just think!" Susan chimed annoyingly, "The Slytherin prince and the Gryffindor princess…it's so romantic."

"It's not romantic—" Anastasia griped, "inconvenient, is what it would be."

At that moment, one of the tavern's waiters wandered into the party room.

the flames of the hearth turned neon green, and a tall blonde figure walked out of the fire. Anastasia bristled.

"Speak of the devil," Justin growled.

"This is a private engagement," Zacharias's dad stood in Mr. Malfoy's way.

"Well, perfect," Lucius said smoothly, "because I have a private matter to discuss with the Cambridges."

Tamara and Eli looked at each other awkwardly and rose from their seats and began walking off with Mr. Malfoy. Anastasia chased after them.

"Wait!" she said. "Anything you can say to them, you can say to me."

"Go back to your seat," Tamara said sharply, "not everything is for children's ears."

"Anastasia, sweet, it will only take a minute," Eli tried.

Anastasia, with her grandparents in front of her, an audience around her, and Mr. Malfoy shooting a piercing glare at her, had no choice but to back down.

"A-alright," she said quietly and wandered back to her spot on the bench as her grandparents left the room.

Anastasia did not talk to her grandparents when they came out of their meeting. The Hufflepuffs plus Neville told her goodbye and good luck and Happy Christmas and passed hugs around. On the way home, she walked ahead of the elderly couple, snow crunching under her feet.

"We were thinking, Anastasia," Tamara started, "when you come to live with us it might be good to start fresh."

"Completely fresh," Eli added, and then more hesitantly, "a new school might help."

Anastasia froze in the snow and turned.

"A new…school?" she asked. Tamara continued.

"Well, yes, something away from all the hubbub you faced as a child. You do speak French, we were thinking Beauxbatons."

"Beauxbatons?" Anastasia raged. "I'm not going to Beuxbatons. One, I don't know anyone there. Two, I don't want to speak French. And three, I live at Hogwarts!"

"It will be better for you! Away from all these people who've caused you trouble—" Eli continued.

"You mean the people who love me?" she demanded, striding forward to Sherwood street.

"Ep-um-erm," Eli stuttered, fumbling.

"That's what Malfoy came to you to ask! He put you up to this, didn't he?" Anastasia raged as she reached the front door. They both flinched. It made so much sense now. Lucius wanted her away from Draco, but he didn't want to follow through and send him to Durmstrang, so he planned to have her removed instead. "And let me guess, he'll stop paying your lawyer's fees if you don't agree?"

The couple had stopped. Eli stepped forward and waved his wand over the doorknob. It creaked open and the firefly lights glowed. Anastasia walked to the stairs.

"It's not…only that…." Tamara continued hesitantly, "your father hurt you to the point where you formed an obscurus, don't you want to be away from him?"

"Grandad did nothing wrong! He was trying to keep me safe. I won't stand here and listen to you insult him," she gripped the banister, seething.

"You don't want to accept it, do you?" Tamara asked. "That he hurt you? One way or another the truth will come to light, and when it does, you'll be placed in our custody, and we will be grateful to Mr. Malfoy for what he has done for our family."

"I don't want to be part of this family!" Anastasia shouted.

"But, my dear," Eli tried with a smile and a welcoming gesture, "You already are, you're the spitting image of Holly—"

"I'm not interested in replacing your daughter!" she yelled from the stairs. "Holly's dead. You should let her memory rest instead of shoving it off on me."

Anastasia went to her room and slammed the door behind her, angry tears filling her gaze.

She couldn't take it anymore. She had to go somewhere. Preferably, back home. She waited at the door. Once she heard the Cambridge's snores, she snuck down the stairs and grabbed the floo powder. She knew grandad wouldn't allow her to return, but if she begged Minerva enough, maybe she would listen.

She threw the powder into the embers and stuck her head in.

"Minerva?" she asked. No answer. She must have gone home to see her family. She called Charity, same result. Anastasia was running out of options. She couldn't call her godmother for obvious reasons, and she didn't feel intrusive enough to call the Weasleys at that time on Christmas Eve,

But there was one person who was obligated and bound by blood to pay attention to her, even if they had only ever met one time. She prayed he left the floo open.

Anastasia stepped into the hearth.

"The Hogshead," she announced, and vanished.