Chapter 11) The Encounter

Selected Listening: The Portrait Gallery- John Williams

Anastasia ran from Hogsmeade. The autumn wind stung her face as she made her way back home. She decided. She really was going to hole up in her room and never come out.

On her way, Hagrid tried to say hello, but she stormed up the hill without stopping. She thought she passed the dark shadow of Fang on the way, and briefly wondered why Hagrid was letting Fang wander on his own when he'd already been charged with one animal-related accident, but she let the thought brush off. When she made it to the entrance of the castle, Minerva passed her, going the other way.

"Wait, Anastasia—" Minerva quipped, but the young girl didn't stop.

She should have suspected that Draco was lying. He couldn't possibly care about her anymore, as a friend or otherwise. Although, she wasn't quite sure what "otherwise" meant at that moment.

It wasn't until Anastasia crossed the corridor in front of the Great Hall that the scent of Halloween goods hit her. The sweet pumpkin pasties and dark chocolate cake drifting across her palate. If she was going to be hiding out, she had to obtain provisions.

She ran into the freshly prepared cafeteria and grabbed a cloth napkin off the table, putting cupcakes and pasties and as many fresh desserts as she could pack onto the square. She enchanted it into an origami sac, and let it swing from her wand as she retreated.

It had been a trick of the light that made her think Draco had leaned towards her in the alleyway. He wouldn't have done that.

She crept up the stairs to the second floor and crossed over to the knight that guarded the door to her room's secret entrance. She placed her hand on the knight's gauntlet and entered the secret passage to her chamber.

Once she made it up the stairs and secured the door, she leapt onto her bed, landed in a great heap, and took a deep breath, staring at everything around her. She hadn't been to her own room since before the school year started. It welcomed her home like a dream.

Anastasia took a moment to cry.

She thought that she had made friends with the muggleborn students. She was wrong. She thought, for a moment, that Draco might have been her friend. That he really cared about her. That no one could heal her heart like he could. She was wrong.

She cried into her knees until she could cry no more. The tears ran out. Her sorrows dried up.

And when she had recovered from her grief, she opened her handkerchief pouch to feast.

Anastasia ate everything. She skipped lunch arguing with Justin. Everything Hermione had spouted the other day had been Justin's opinions. She gorged herself on everything inside, and then went straight to sleep, feeling the sugar rush crash her down to listlessness.

When she awoke, the room was dark. She hadn't bothered lighting torches when she came in the room. She wasn't sure of the time, but the waning gibbous moon had risen outside. She pulled her wand out.

"Incendio!" she shouted, pointing to the two sconces.

Room sufficiently lit, Anastasia let out a deep sigh and prepared herself to return to Gryffindor dormitory. She couldn't hide forever. Eventually Percy would tell Minerva she'd gone missing, and Minerva would tell grandad, and grandad would show up with words of wisdom to encourage her to return to her house anyway.

She might as well make the decision herself and skip further embarrassment.

Anastasia wandered back down the secret staircase. The finished, crumb-filled napkin stuffed into her pocket. She opened the knight and stepped into the hallway, shutting it back into the wall behind her. She walked towards the back staircase. Someone else rounded the corner, nearly knocking her over. The putrid stench of wet dog and sewer waste filled her nostrils and burned her eyes.

She stood face to face with a man. Grizzly black hair hung all around his bearded face. Grease and sweat covered every inch of his skin. His black eyes seemed to glow, boring into hers, sensing right down to the middle of her soul.

"Why, hello ducky," Sirius Black said.

Anastasia's shriek echoed through the halls of the castle, informing every corridor. Black sprinted down the staircase. A flurry of footsteps sounded and stopped behind her. Anastasia looked over her shoulder to find Albus, Minerva, Professor Snape, and a disheveled Professor Lupin surrounding her.

"He's here," she muttered.

"Where?" Snape asked in a growl, murder lingering in his gaze.

She pointed down the staircase. Snape descended, followed by Lupin, their footfalls resounded in quick pursuit.

Anastasia felt a hand on her shoulder, Minerva. The professor embraced her, and then immediately began shouting at her. Inside, Anastasia trembled.

"Where in heavens were you? You weren't at the feast! You weren't with your house!"

"I—I went up to my room for a nap. I wasn't feeling well…ate too many sweets at Honeyduke's I suppose."

"We thought Black had caught you!" Minerva shouted.

"Minerva," Albus tried to calm.

"We thought he was holding you hostage!" she thundered.

"Minerva…"

"We thought you'd been left for dead—"

"MINERVA!" Albus thundered. "There was no harm done. She is fine. I believe it's normal for one to get sick off sweets their first time in Hogsmeade. Don't you?"

Anastasia nodded encouragingly to her mother figure. Minerva stared at the girl in pained disbelief.

"Very well. Everyone's sleeping in the Great Hall. Come with me."

Anastasia ambled behind Minerva like a lost kit. When they reached the Great Hall, she found the entire floor covered with students huddled into plush, star-embroidered sleeping bags.

She gazed around, looking for any open spot. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had huddled together in a small triad. Other Gryffindor students surrounded them, leaving no room for her. She made eye contact with Hermione. Hermione gave her a look of guilt and relief.

There was only one sleeping bag left. That was next to Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

Feeling dread wash over her, Anastasia ran for it, intending to pull it back over to the Gryffindor group, but when she reached the sack, Flitwick swished the candles out. Left without options, she burrowed into the cot, pulling the covers tightly over her head. Her body trembled from head to toe.

Sirius Black could have killed her. She hadn't even had time to draw her wand.

"Don't know why they bothered finding her," Pansy remarked, "she could have killed him with the obscurus if they had locked her out long enough."

Anastasia held her breath to keep from sobbing.

"Shut it, Pansy," Draco spat.

The Slytherin girl scoffed and rolled over in her sleeping bag.

There was a silence where Anastasia thought she would hear Draco settle down too: a sustained pause, meant to be filled with something said. Eventually she did hear the rummaging of blankets. Cold fingertips brushed hers as the boy arranged himself. She jerked her hand back inside the covers.

It was an accident, she told herself.

And she fell into a cold slumber.

In the morning, there was breakfast. A buffet of coffee, juice, donuts, and croissants appeared on the faculty table. Anastasia grabbed a small serving of orange juice along with a croissant, but once she had wandered back to the Gryffindor encampment, she only took two bites.

"What happened?" Hermione asked when she knelt next to her. Anastasia sighed and looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"Justin told you not to bring me?" she asked straightforwardly. "You could have told me what was going on, so I wouldn't look like a complete idiot."

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier…I was so frightened! I thought Black had captured you."

Anastasia felt she should have been angrier with Hermione, but she also recognized Hermione had been placed in a difficult position, between her prolific pureblood best friends and the always forgotten muggleborn student body. Anastasia didn't have the energy to argue anyway.

"Don't worry about it," she replied.

Hermione latched onto her shoulders in a tight hug.

"Hermione, I'm fine…I'm fine, you can let go…"

"You should have seen this one blubbering last night!" Ron pointed to Hermione as he sat down with Harry, speaking through his bite of donut. "She wouldn't stop crying, saying I killed her, I killed her. It's my fault." Anastasia felt Hermione's face warm against her shoulder.

"It's not funny, Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed. "If Sirius Black had found her, he would have murdered her!"

Harry and Ron snickered at her reaction.

"He did find me…" Anastasia whispered as if it had been an odd dream. Hermione pulled away to read her expression.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I…I was in my room taking a nap, and when I came out…I ran into him."

"You ran into him!" Ron gaped. "How did you fight him off?"

Anastasia explained the whole ordeal and how there was little fighting involved.

"So he was here in the castle," Harry whispered. Anastasia nodded.

"Yes…I've never seen Snape and Lupin so furious…you should have seen them chase after him," Anastasia said.

"Do you know anything more?" Harry asked. "About Black, I mean?"

Anastasia leaned in closer to the group.

"He's Narcissa Malfoy's cousin…ex-cousin, she said…that's about it."

"Ex-cousin?" Harry asked.

"How can you be an ex-cousin?" Hermione asked. Anastasia shrugged.

"It's common in old pureblood families…" Ron started "…to weed out the ones they don't like. I bet they disowned him after…you know…all the murdering."

Anastasia stared at Ron. She wasn't so sure.

"That must be why Malfoy said something in potions," Harry said. "He thinks I should be after Sirius Black for revenge."

"Might have been saying that to push your buttons, Harry. Be careful about what you believe from that one," Ron said.

Anastasia felt a pair of eyes on her and looked up to see Draco staring anxiously at her from across the room where he sat with his Slytherin cronies. She looked down at her unfinished plate.

"Yes…" Anastasia said, "…seconded."

Later in the library, Anastasia and Hermione set up a table with their books about werewolves for the essay Snape gave while subbing. Harry and Ron said they would study somewhere else, which really meant they were visiting Hagrid and not studying at all. The two girls worked in silence for a few moments, but Hermione kept giving her a worried look between paragraphs.

"What is it now?" Anastasia asked.

"Draco was frightened last night," Hermione said, "when you didn't show up."

Anastasia stared coldly.

"Serves him right," she said, heart aching as she wrote a note.

Werewolves are not born but forced into their condition by the curse of another werewolf's bite.

Despite her attempts to seem deeply engaged in studying, Hermione continued.

"He argued with me and Professor McGonagall about where you might have gone and even tried to fight Professor Snape to leave the Great Hall. Said something about trying to console you?" Hermione asked.

Anastasia finished another note before responding.

Werewolves often become physically ill prior to transformation and retain symptoms of exhaustion well after the full moon has passed.

"It's a funny way of trying to console me. Building me up only to have his friends tear me back down and repeat every horrible thing he's said behind my back," Anastasia knotted her fingers to the left side of her head and continued writing. Her letters became blotted as she pressed down in her anger.

Werewolves lose all reason and become violently aggressive during the transformation unless treated with a wolfsbane potion, which keeps them demure and sedated.

"Wait, which friends?" Hermione asked. "Crabbe and Goyle aren't smart enough to insult you."

Anastasia gave up and threw the quill down.

"It was mainly Parkinson…you know how she is…" Anastasia began.

Hermione smirked the same smirk she wore after the incident with Buckbeak and looked down at her own text.

"What?"

"You are so daft sometimes." She turned the page. Anastasia glared.

"Thanks, Hermione. You know, between you and him, I could come up with some superb mantras to start my day with," she snapped and turned the page of her textbook.

Due to their precarious condition and societal stigma, werewolves often struggle retaining employment. This has led to severe homelessness in the werewolf population.

Professor Lupin and his crumpled brown suit came to mind…but that was silly, wasn't it?

Hermione kept smirking.

"Anastasia, think about it. Parkinson's been after Malfoy all year. Haven't you noticed? Then, she finds you and him alone and you don't understand why she ruined it? She's trying to mess it up for him."

"Mess what up for him?" she asked.

"Dating you," Hermione chimed, a little too loud for the library. Anastasia shushed her and shook her head, completely derailed from her studies.

"Are you kidding me?" Anastasia asked, her cheeks feverish as she slammed her books shut. She remembered Draco leaning towards her and pushed it out of her mind.

Hermione followed Anastasia's lead, packing up and walking out of the library.

"Draco doesn't want to date me," Anastasia whispered, "He made it perfectly clear in Diagon Alley that I'm trash and I've ruined his family and I don't mean anything to him. He was only scared last night because we have a lifeline spell. If Sirius Black had murdered me, Draco would have died right there on his cot."

Hermione's smile vanished, she stopped outside the library doorway.

"Wait—what? A real lifeline spell?" Hermione asked. "That's what all the coincidental injuries were about?"

"No, Hermione, the fake one that only works half the time," Anastasia scoffed, "Yes, a real one. If Draco showed any care about me, it was only to save his own skin."

Hermione winced.

"Anastasia…I know you must be sensitive about the whole thing, but have you read anything about lifeline spells and how they work?"

Anastasia bit her lip, knowing by her friend's tone that what would come next was not anything good.

"I didn't know there was anything to read…Narcissa said they're rare."

Hermione's eyebrows perched on her forehead critically. Luckily, Professor Lupin was walking towards them.

"Hello, Professor!" Anastasia chimed, hoping to start a needless conversation.

"Hello, girls," Professor Lupin chimed softly as he passed them speedily, wand ready to hex if Black should he appear. He patrolled the halls, his old brown, paper-bag suit clinging to his disheveled form. Still, he seemed in better health than he had the day prior.

"This won't to be easy for you to accept, but…"

Anastasia held up a hand to stop Hermione from talking. She remembered Lupin meeting with Albus at the beginning of term and the star charts strewn across the desk, and she remembered the moon as it rose outside her window the previous night.

"What phase was the moon on Friday when Snape taught defense?" she asked.

Hermione looked at her friend, and then peered down the hall at Lupin, and then remembered the point of their entire conversation and shook Anastasia's shoulder.

"You aren't listening! There's no lifeline pair in history that hasn't…"

"Hasn't what?" Anastasia asked sharply.

"Fallen in love…"