-1CHAPTER 1
Anna Aleksodova did not have a wonderful childhood but she did not pity herself. She pitied her parents, who had died before they saw her leave Durmstrang; before they saw the Muggle USSR dissolve; before she had made enough money and learnt enough English to move them to a better place. The neighbors had seen her off. Their little twin girls, Elena and Inga, cried, clung to her legs, and made her promise to write.
She patted their blonde curls and laughed. "But you cannot read! Your parents will read them to you, yes?"
She turned her gaze on their young mother and father, who were but a year older than her. The Sokolovs smiled sadly, and said, "We'll miss you, Anya Mikhailovicha. Good luck." Fearing she would cry, Anna bent on one knee, hugging and kissing each girl until the feeling passed. Then more solemnly she embraced their parents and whispered into Natalya's ear, "Don't worry about Elena and Inga's school things. It will be fine."
After that, Anna climbed over the nearby hill and stood for a moment catching her breath, not from the climb but from her mixed emotions. And she Apparated to the Ministry of Magic in London, England.
"Level Five, Department of International Magical Cooperation," the woman's voice on the elevator said. She sounded just like the woman on her English learning tapes; slow and cool, so Anna could understand.
Nobody else got off with her and she was instantly terrified. Anna never had actually spoken English in conversation with a native speaker, though she was confident she could manage it if she could just clam herself. She approached the door of the waiting room, which was open, and knocked lightly.
The young woman at the desk snapped her head up. "Can I help you?" she said, and her tone did not make Anna want to ask her anything.
"Yes," Anna started, blushing slightly at the shaky sound of her voice. "I was to want to register with the Ministry. I have a number to where I live - address -" she corrected herself quickly, but felt her face turning redder as she went on, especially when the girl in front of her frowned. "Will live, when…when I register," she finished weakly.
"Do you have an appointment? Did you fill out the paperwork?"
Anna stared at her blankly, trying to process what she was being asked. "No, I do not have an appointment. No, I did not fill out the paperwork." Her answer was halted and took three times as long as she would have liked to come out of her mouth.
As soon as she'd finished, however, the woman thrust a clipboard at her and pointed to a seat. "Fill it out," she demanded.
Taking a seat, Anna felt her stomach churning. She scanned the top sheet, and the uncomfortable feeling eased a bit when she realized she could understand what was written. With pride, she printed out in Latin letters her name, birth date and place, address, and all the other information asked of her.
"All right, Miss Alec-o-dove-uh," the girl said, shaking her head. "You should get your confirmation by tomorrow, and then you'll be back for an appointment within the week. The fireplace in your flat has been connected for the next hour; use the network in the main hall." And she went back to staring at her fingernails.
"Thank you," Anna said quietly as she walked out, resisting the urge to correct the pronunciation of her surname. No, no, she thought. You pronounce English horribly, don't think you can say anything to them.
Anna tried to contain her delight when she got to travel by Floo for the first time in her life. Truthfully, she was hesitant, but after watching a few others throw the powder into the fire she eagerly stepped up to an open grate and said, "17-B, Westview Crescent," probably louder than was necessary.
And a moment later she was falling out of a fireplace coughing uncontrollably. She used the nearby wall to support herself and when she felt as if she had cleared her lungs of the ashes, Anna stood up and surveyed her surroundings. The room was beige and completely empty, of course. It was extremely tiny, but that didn't bother her. She didn't have many things in her bag, anyway.
Walking through the open door way, she came into a kitchen just big enough to cook in. The last tenant had left a clock on the wall with a cracked face. "Reparo," Anna muttered, pulling her wand out of her trousers. The glass melted back together. It was 1:34 pm. She frowned; she had forgotten about the time difference, and realized she had picked up just over three hours.
On the other side of the kitchen was the bedroom and attached bathroom. They too were miniscule. And yet Anna could not contain her joy and jumped up and down twice before she caught herself and stopped, smoothing her hair and putting on a serious expression. She then set to work pulling the furniture and her personal effects out of her bag and enlarging them to their normal size. The last thing she brought out was the bed, and she promptly collapsed on it and took a nap.
Less than a week later, as the secretary had promised, Anna found herself again at the Ministry of Magic. She had an appointment with an Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"Well, well, Miss Alex," very soon in the interview Mrs. Bones had shortened her name, "you have an impressive academic record. But you worked as a waitress after your education at Durmstrang?"
"Yes," Anna answered. There was a nagging voice inside her head that told her to explain herself; to tell the woman that it was steady, good income for a little girl who suddenly had no family, and especially good when she could work year-round instead of just the summers. But that, she knew, would sound overly dramatic and anyway, she wasn't sure she could put into the proper words what she meant.
Flipping through Anna's papers again, Mrs. Bones continued, "Well, you know, it's been half a dozen years since these tests, but I'm willing to bet you could still get a very good position with the Law Enforcement Squad. Now let me see…" She busied herself with looking at a chart on her desk. "I know it's short notice, but how would you like to see Alastor Gumboil? I think he'd be interested in talking with you."
"Who - who is this?" Anna stuttered. She suddenly felt extremely young.
But Mrs. Bones just smiled. "He's the head Hit Wizard. Don't be intimidated, dear, he's a perfectly nice man. And he's been looking to replace Jeff Meyer, who retired last month. What do you say?"
The churning had started in Anna's stomach again. "I say I will see him, yes. This is another interview, or to make an appointment with him?"
"Take your papers," Mrs. Bones said, handing them back to her, "and go right down the hall to room 919. Tell him Mrs. Bones sent you. Good luck, Miss Alex."
Anna stuttered a thank you and walked as quickly as she could down the hall, willing herself not to turn around. It would be so much easier to go apply for a job at a restaurant or bar, but that was no better than her life in Russia. That was not what she wanted for herself. So when she reached room 919, she put on what she hoped was a friendly smile and yanked open the door.
"Hello," she said, hovering near the doorway. "I was sent over by Mrs. Bones."
Thankfully, the middle-aged man seated at his crowded desk returned her smile. "Well hello," he said, rising and walking over with his hand extended. "I'm Alastor Gumboil. And you would be?"
"Anna Mikhailovicha Aleksodova. It is nice to meet you, sir."
"Never mind formalities. Sit, sit," Gumboil said, waving his hand at a chair. Anna obeyed, and settled comfortably, very at ease with the man's demeanor. "Let's have a look at your papers, then. Oh, these are good, Anna. Very good. You could train as an Auror, if you wanted."
Quicker than she intended, Anna held up her hands and said, "No, no, no."
"Ah. No matter. I'd be very happy to take you on. You're not of a nervous disposition, are you, Anna?" He smiled more broadly.
Encouraged, Anna leaned forward. "Not about magic, no. I say this, but do not take to offensive. In Durmstrang, many children know more bad, bad things than the adults here."
"You're right about that," Gumboil said. "When can you start training?"
Being a Hit Witch afforded Anna all kinds of exciting opportunities. She loved the rush of adrenaline when the sightings came in and Gumboil would say, "All right, Anya, you're on this guy. Now." Sometimes it was a routine job; just a guy who thought it might be funny to hex his brother after an argument or something equally harmless. Then she would show up, sort things out and issue a stern warning. Sometimes it was a bit more serious and she gave out fines. But her greatest pleasure was catching the really nasty ones, the ones who had to be restrained after they committed their crime, and bringing them in.
Over the course of her first year, Anna noticed she was given more and more of those kind of tasks. Then the next year she hardly ever had to go on the petty, reprimanding missions, unless they wanted her to show a newer Hit Wizard the ropes. And the year after that, she was being asked solely to apprehend the criminals just one peg below Death Eaters, and started helping to test and train applicants. More and more were wanted as the wizarding world fell into disarray again.
"Kenneth Towler," the dark haired boy said confidently.
Anna shook his hand. "Have a seat, Kenneth. Fresh out of school, are you?" She scanned his papers. "Your O.W.L.s look good. Fell a bit on the N.E.W.T.s, but never mind that. Tell me, why do you want to be a Hit Wizard?"
The boy turned his gaze to his lap, and Anna saw he was wringing his hands. "Well," he mumbled, "there was this boy last in my school that died…he was killed, I mean…we were sort of friends, anyway we studied together…and, well, you saw, my N.E.W.T.s are horrible, so I can't be an Auror…" He looked up and was confident sounding once again. "But I want to do whatever I can to help with You-Know-Who."
For a moment Anna stared at him. She had heard about the boy who died at Hogwarts a few school terms earlier. It had upset her, but she didn't realize how much until she heard a fellow student talking about it. Almost defiantly, Kenneth Towler stared back at her. "Good," Anna finally said. "That's very good. We need all the help we can get. You're not of a nervous disposition, are you, Kenneth?"
Over training, Anna decided she liked Kenneth very much. He might not have had the best test results, but he certainly made up for it with enthusiasm and common sense. He set himself to what she asked of him, doing it quietly and without complaint. At the end of his mandatory month course, she was proud of both Kenneth and herself. Though she hadn't been disciplining minor offensives for over a year, she wanted to go with him on such an assignment for his first trial run.
After Kenneth had went home on his last day of training, Anna ducked across the hall to Alastor's office. Long ago she had stopped knocking, instead letting herself in and beginning to talk as soon as she had her head through the doorway. "Alastor, Kenneth's ready for whenever you want to - oh." Catching sight of two other men in the office, she abruptly shut her mouth.
"Ah, yes, here she is now! We were just talking about you, Anya."
He waved his hand toward the two men, both of whom smiled. She recognized the taller of the two, who had vibrant red hair, but did not know his name. Anna had seen him around, and once rode on the elevator down to the Floo network very late with him. The other, she could tell, did not work with the Ministry. He was extremely shabby, with patched robes and messy greyish hair, but a smile that was inviting, until Anna saw his canine teeth were unnaturally long and gave a little jump.
"This is Arthur Weasley. He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office." Mr. Weasley shook her hand. "And this is Remus Lupin." Anna shook his hand, wondering vaguely why Mr. Lupin hadn't been given an introduction other than his name. "This is Anna Aleksodova, one of the best Hit Witches I've had the pleasure to work with."
"Come on," Anna said dismissively, too used to his praising to blush anymore.
"She's modest, fellows. But she does some marvelous work. Got that man who caused the Muggle car accident last week. You know, I hope he gets what's coming to him, because those - what are they? - doctors aren't going to be able to fix the burns that boy's got now. Resisted arrest, didn't he, Anya?"
Giving a little laugh, she replied, "Not for long."
"Remus here used to teach at Hogwarts. What's this boy's name, now? The one who just went through training?"
Anna turned to the weary man, though she focused on his teeth instead of his eyes. "Kenneth Towler, I think he said he was in Gryffindor. I'll have to ask him about you, Mr. Lupin."
"I remember Kenneth," Lupin said, expression turning a little less dreary. "He was always so stressed out about exams. I'm afraid it wore on him, and Fred and George weren't exactly understanding…"
"My sons," Mr. Weasley muttered. "Actually, my son Bill works here as well. Have you met him? I think he's about your age."
"I don't believe I have. Oh, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Anna caught herself before she let the conversation go on.
"Not to worry. Nothing you shouldn't be privy to. Have a seat, everyone, have a seat."
Anna listened to Alastor with such intensity that he twice stopped speaking and pointed out that she was staring at him. She could hardly help herself: they were talking about Harry Potter.
Harry Potter was not spoken kindly of at Durmstrang Institute, especially since she started there the year following Voldemort's downfall. All through her schooling they were made to theorize on why it happened. She, for one, could see no point. If what they said was true, and he was only a baby, then how any student possibly determine the cause? She fully expected to be given a answer in her last year, but she discovered that there was none. Any research she tried to do led to dead ends. Naturally, she was intrigued.
"Harry will be here -"
"Here?" Anna interrupted loudly. "Here?"
"Yes, here," Alastor went on, "he'll be here at noon sharp, Remus?"
"Not a minute later," Lupin assured him.
Anna clapped her hand over her mouth, removing it only to ask in a rush, "Can I meet him?"
All three men exchanged grins. "He's a seventeen year old boy, Anya," Alastor said, lacing his fingers together. There was a pause. "But, yes, I suppose. If you don't think it will bother him?" He turned questioningly to Lupin.
"He's not a fan of publicity, whatever the papers might have you believe," Lupin said. "I'll bring him by, but you can't go on gasping and asking to see his scar."
"I forgot about the scar!" Anna cried, clutching the arms of her seat.