A/N:Yes, this is the last chapter. Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed - I really enjoy writing about Theo and Anne, and it's heartening to know that you enjoy reading about them. At the moment, I'm not really sure what to do with them in sixth year; this story was canon commentary as much as anything, and without canon it's hard to comment. However, there will be a sequel, Discussions, set over the summer, and told in their lettersas well as some other people's. After that, it depends. Discussions may take a little while to post as I have major exams looming on the near horizon. In twenty-three days, however, I will be free, and I promise if I haven't posted by then I definitely will.

Chapter Six - Farewells

That Saturday Theo got to the small practice room first. He pulled out the stool, sat, and spread his music. This was definitely a time for distraction, and if Anne didn't want to play, she could damn well leave. He didn't want to talk, or laugh, or discuss exams, oror anything.

His father was in Azkaban.

It wasn't the mere fact of public humiliation that hurt; Malfoy's pride was definitely smarting over this, his father who was so admired and respected by everyone - everyone who counted - jailed like a "common criminal". The morning Prophet had not had everything, or even anything, just a small article saying several Azkaban escapees had been recaptured, and sent back to the prison. Along with several others caught with them - including, shockingly, Ministry employees. Named Ministry employees.

While Theo didn't precisely appreciate the stares, mutters, and satisfied laughter, he'd dealt with the idea of everyone knowing back in March, when public opinion swung towards Potter and his story being true. Malfoy hadn't. He wanted it all; the public respect and the private power. He was, Theo considered, not all that bright when it came to some things. It was the thought of his father in prison, in Azkaban, locked up with the Dementors for Merlin knew how long, where neither Theo nor his mother could see him. He missed his family, over the school year; he'd been looking forward to going home and seeing his parents, to getting his OWL results and seeing what they thought, to telling them all about his school year in more detail than letters could manage. Well, not everything, but what they didn't need to know couldn't hurt them. And the pleasure of being home, and sleeping in his own bed

and hearing his father come home late at night, and talk to his mother about what the Dark Lord had ordered, or seeing secret gatherings and pretending not to see or hear because they would Obliviate him if they thought he had, and knowing what was coming

but for all that - which had only begun last summer - he missed home. He missed his parents.

Now one of them was gone, and he would go home to a house where his mother was silent and angry, where the house-elf was frightened to tears by her temper, where there was a gap where his father was. And his father, his father would be locked in Azkaban, all his happiness being sucked out by the Dementors, with people who would blame him for waltzing to freedom when they had been jailed for their crimes. While Potter waltzed away, Dumbledore's golden boy, because of course he could do no wrong. Not now Umbridge was mysteriously incapitated. (Or not so mysteriously, if one listened to Malfoy.) He was alive, safe, after having helped send Theo's father to Azkaban. Everyone knew he must have been there, with his friends so badly injured. And Theo could do nothing about it despite the need to lash out at someone, anyone-

But he would not go down that path, of petty revenge and spite. It wasn't worth the time or effort. In Potter's place, what would he have done? The same thing. Potter couldn't help any of it. He was a pawn in a game that Theo hadn't entered and didn't want tobut might not have any choice about. But that need for revenge lingered. His father was in Azkaban. His father. Theo thought that he was, really, quite sensible about his parents. He knew what they had done, what they would do, in the Dark Lord's service. He knew it wasnot anything he could condone in himself. But condemning them was something he could not yet do, either. They were his parents. He loved them.

The music drew to a crescendo and Theo stopped thinking, deliberately drowning himself in it because it had always worked before-
The door creaked. Theo ignored it, focusing on the music, but his concentration was ruined. He knew precisely who would be standing behind him, and she brought up all the thoughts of the last two days.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Anne said, in a touch of irony he was sure she hadn't intended. Hadn't he said the same thing to her, four months and more ago? "I don't get the chance to hear you play by yourself very often."

"Doesn't matter. I can never stay distracted when you're in here, anyway." Theo turned around. Anne looked troubled; she had put her bag on the table, but stood there with the strap over her shoulder, looking at him. She blinked.

"Er-what?"

Theo realised the statement had not exactly made all that much sense.

"I meant - oh, never mind. It's complicated."

"Right." They both just looked at each other for a minute.

"I'm sorry about your father," said Anne eventually. "I mean, that is, I know youyou'll miss him, and I" she trailed off into silence.

"No you're not" said Theo harshly. If Anne was going to remind him about this whole bloody mess, she could damn well pay for it. She was there, and he needed to let offsome sort of emotion, or he couldn't take it any longer. Even if Anne was the last person who deserved it. "He's a Death Eater. He's in jail because he helped break into the Ministry of Magic. For the Dark Lord. You're not sorry about that. Him in Azkaban is one less Death Eater to try and kill you for being Muggleborn. So don't go lying, because there's no damn-"

Anne was looking at her toes, now, and going faintly red. "I knew this wasn't going to work" she said in a very small voice.

"Trying to lie to make me feel better?" Theo knew he was being unreasonable, but who cared. She certainly didn't.

"No." She shook her head, but she didn't look up. "Trying to explain - dammit." She did look up, then. "I mean yes, I am sorry, but not for your father. I don't know him. But-"

"But what?"

Theo was beginning to feel more than a little out of his depth. He wished Anne would shut up, leave, or get her flute out. Continued attempts at some sort of sympathy were not only perplexing, but irritating in that he felt she was genuine. She wasn't supposed to feel genuinely sorry for him, and if she did, he didn't want her to, because he didn't need her to. He didn't.

All in all, maybe it would be a good idea if she left.

Anne chewed her lip for a minute, abandoned her post near the door, and hauled up the room's sole chair next to the piano stool. Then she sat, or rather, perched on the edge, as if she expected to be sent on her way very soon. The idea was tempting.

"What I'm trying to say, is, I don't really care about what happens to your father," she began "but I do feel bad because I know you feel bad about it, and if it was my father, I'd feel awful. Because we had that talk about parents, and how you care about your parents just as much as I care about mine. So I feel sorry for you." She paused. "That came out wrong."

"I don't-"

Anne regarded him with a slight look of amusement. "If you say you don't need my pity, then I warn you, I'm going to keel over in giggles."

Theo shut his mouth and glared. Why did she have to bring humour into this?

On second thought, though, she had managed to stop him sounding like a total idiot.

"Fine," he ground out. "But I don't."

"Fair enough. I did say it came out wrong." She was going steadily redder. "What I mean, is, you have my sympathy. Or - that doesn't sound good, either. I mean I don't care about your father, but I do care about you, and-"

With a groan, she buried her face in her hands. Theo could have sworn he heard her mutter "Oh God, let me die now."

He felt, in some odd way, that it was now his obligation to make a move. "Um. Thanks. For that. Because, I, uh, don't think I'll be hearing that from many people any time soon."

Anne looked up through her fingers. "Which part of it?"

He couldn't help smiling a bit. "All of it, probably."

"Even from the other people whose parents got arrested?"

He snickered. "Tell me, Anne, can you really see Draco Malfoy telling me that I have his sympathy? Or that he cares about me?"

Anne made a face. "Yuck. Don't."

"Besides," he added "he probably won't be in there for all that long anyway."

"How do you figure that?" She tilted her head in inquiry.

"There've been two breakouts from Azkaban, now, a third can't be that hard to arrange.. Now the Ministry knows the Dark Lord has returned, the fortress will probably be abandoned in a month or so-"

"The Dementors are working for You Know Who." Anne said it flatly. Theo remembered for her, these weren't abstract concepts, mattering only in terms of what she decided to do; this was about an army massing, and her a target

"Yes. So I - Dad won't be in there for very long."

Theo was saying it to reassure himself it would be all right, he still had some nasty choices, but his father would, at least, be back

"Wait a minute. Since when has the Ministry acknowledged the - You Know Who is really back? There wasn't anything in the paper, just some stuff about the Death Eaters that got captured, and your- well, you know-"

"Igot a letter from my mother. They're going to announce it on Sunday."

Anne closed her eyes, for a minute, then opened them. She looked lost, now, younger than her fifteen years.

"I'm scared." Theo was impressed. It took courage of a certain kind to be able to say that.

"I know," he said quietly. She had every reason to be. He only had to stay neutral; for her, there was no choice but to fight, or hope that others could protect herothers wouldn't understand that, but he knew what it would be like. Terror.

"If II wouldn't let them kill you" he said abruptly. As if he had any power to do that, when he'd admitted all he was out for was keeping his own neck safe, but he didn't like the way she looked, not calm like normal, but terrified of the future-

"Thanks." She smiled at him, trying to look brave, and failing miserably. "I hate this. It's all sostupid. Knowing there are people out there who'll want to kill me for nothing I've doneI mean, I know why, you've explained it, but stillit was maybe not going to happen, then."

Theo shuffled a bit closer to her. He tried to see what he once had; just a Muggleborn; and found he couldn't. Oh, he still knew they weren't the samebut Anne was right, she had turned into his exception. What he was seeing was a pretty girl who he knew very well by now, who was really quite close to him, and he wasn't probably going to see her again for three months and-

Help. She's Muggleborn, remember?

He compromised his unease and his sudden compassion by ruffling her hair, earning a dirty look, and suggesting that they get on and play some music, since it was the last Saturday of the term. Anne readily agreed, apparently eager to get on to something that would distract her.

Makes two of us.

He watched as she got out her flute and her music from her bag.

"Hey, I forgot!" She held up two bottles of Butterbeer. "I brought these after all. We can have them later."

"What piece do you want to play?"

"How about that flute sonata? You know, the one you barged in here and gave to me"

"If I can find it." He had to go through his folder; they seemed to have collected quite a repertoire over six months. "Here we go."

Anne was just spreading the music out on her stand. "Ready?"

Theo put his hands to the keys, and looked at her sideways. She raised her flute to her mouth. "Your intro."

"Oh, right. One, two, three, four-"

No matter what happened, he reflected as he played, they would always have this. Music was something that you couldn't stop sharing, after all. This had begun, for him, as a distraction from thoughts of what was going to come; turned into a friendship that made him think about the coming war; and seemed to be evolving intosomething that allowed them both to be distracted by music. Which was all. Really.

If music be the food of love, play onOkay, where did that thought come from? Yuck. Sentimentality. I have been corrupted.

Eventually they did break out the Butterbeer, and recounted the various horrors of exam week. Theo told Anne all about the scene from the Astronomy Tower; Anne recounted the boredom of the fourth-year Defence test ("at least you got to do a practical bit, I was annoyed.") At about four, they conceded defeat by the clock, and began to pack things up. The last thing either needed was an interrogation about where they'd been, after two successful terms of hiding things.

"Just think, we won't see each other for three months," said Anne.

"Lots can happen in three months," said Theo darkly. "I hope my parents let me come back."

"I hope mine do. I've beenwell, I haven't exactly explained to them about everything that's been happening. I still might not."

"I wouldn't," said Theo, shrugging. "What they don't know can't hurt them. And you're right, they might keep you away."

"You'll not be telling your parents a few things, either," observed Anne. "Me, for one."

"Would you tell your parents-"

"That I know you? Yeah. They don't understand about the Houses, or anything. But not quite everything. Your father - well, explaining what Death Eaters are will be bad enough. "Hey, Mum, Dad, there are these people who will probably want to kill me for existing, and maybe you, too.""

"You- they'll go for important targets, first. People who've married Muggleborns, or Muggles, who're traitors to their bloodlines. Or Muggleborns themselves. Your family would just be- well, collateral da-"

He cut off. He didn't want to finish that sentence.

"Don't."

"If I hear anything - that might affect you - I'll let you know," Theo promised. His insides twisted as he said it. He was committing himself to something that could potentially get him - but it wasn't as if his mail was monitored, andthere were limits to neutrality, unfortunately. Letting Anne die because he'd known something and failed to warn her crossed every one of them.

"I forgot about owl post, we can still write," suggested Anne. "Unless you think that wouldn't be safe-"

"Nah, I have my own owl, my parents wouldn't notice. As long as yours doesn't turn up at the breakfast table. They have other things to keep them busy, anyway."

Anne gave a slight shrug. "I'll send her at night, then. God knows all the attention any owl at my place is going to get is an over-enthusiastic welcome from my sisters."

They stood, looking at each other, bags on shoulders.

"Bye, then," said Anne eventually. She reached forward to give Theo a hug. He returned it, remembering a conversation about families and some half-disturbing, half-intruiging thoughts. The reminiscence was broken by the startling feeling of Anne kissing him on the cheek before letting go.

"Er, um, see you after the holidays" she mumbled, suddenly fascinated by the floor. Theo, not really sure what he was doing, leaned down to give her a quick peck back. He was caught between uncertainty and the nebulous feeling that he should be doing something else. He just didn't have the time - or, yes, the courage - to try to work that one out right now.

"You, uh, you too."

They stepped away from each other rather hurriedly, Theo for one not knowing quite where to look. This was seeming like a very good moment to leave.

"See you on the first Saturday back?"

"Of course. You better practice over the holidays!"

"You, too." Anne smiled at him, still a little red but slightly less awkward, then was gone in a rush. Theo thought she might be slightly discomfited. Well, Merlin knew he was. After all, what had possessed her to do that? Or him, for that matter? Still

you're making a rather ridiculous fuss over a kiss on the cheek. Stop it.

He just wished he was going to see her before next September. The holidays were, now he thought about it, so long.

*

Anne stood in her dorm, looking around. Her trunks had gone; she had just nipped up to make sure everything had been packed. It had been, after all, an eventful year - compared to her first four. She looked at the space on the dresser where her owl Bronwyn had perched sometimes. At least she'd be getting news, over the summer. She intended to get the Daily Prophet, as well; and the other girls would send her letters. She wouldn't be uninformed. She would just be cut off from the magic world. And Theo. That was a definite downside; she was still trying to decide what she thought about him. He was a friend, of course, but - she wasn't sure why she had kissed him on the cheek. It wasn't like she had known him all that long, but he hadn't seemed to mind, and she did quite like getting away with hugging him. And he did ruffle her hair sometimes, and it was really annoying, so – she did like Theo, not like that, but – well, maybe like that, he was the only boy she really felt comfortable around, but - anyway, she could use some time to think a bit aboutthat. As for news, there were always the Martins, but Elise was still young, it was hard to talk to adultsand it wasn't the same as being able to do magic. At least they'd understand about the war.

Magic or her family. She wished it didn't work like that, but

Only 'till I'm seventeen. Then I can do magic at home.

Sarah poked her head around the door. "What are you waiting for, Anne, we're all down by the Entrance Hall! Hurry up or the carriages will go!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Anne as she left the dorm with Sarah. "Sad to be going home?"

"Nah, it'll be good to see home again. And with everything that's happened, I want to see my parents, y'know?"

The Sunday Prophet had had all he details of the fight at the Ministry - well, Anne suspected it had been edited quite a bit, but most of what counted was there. The paper had swung - as the entire Wizarding world seemed to -from ridicule to panic. The Hufflepuffs were trying to stay calm, but

"Me too," said Anne. "It's going to be hard explaining this all to them, though"

"You'll be fine," said Sarah, slinging an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. "No-one's going to be after you. I wouldn't be in someone like Hermione Granger's shoes for anything, now."

"No-one was after Cedric Diggory, either."

"That was an accident. Wrong place, wrong time. That won't happen to any of us." Sarah was breezily confident, something Anne wished she could emulate.

"Maybe not." She smiled at Sarah. "Or maybe. But I guess you're right. No point worrying."

"That's right. C'mon!" Sarah hurried her on to one of the horseless carriages, where Gabby, Mai and Ellie were waiting. As she climbed in, Anne turned her head for a last look at Hogwarts. She would see it soon enoughand Theoand she still had music. And letters.

Plenty of distractions. Some more than others Lord knows what's going to happen the next time I see Theoeven if it won't be for ages, dammit
Mind back on track here!
Sarah's probably right. Worry about tomorrow when it happens.
And enjoy the distractions while I can.