Chapter 5 – Lessons Unlike Arkhangelsk. Reminders of Arkhangelsk.
Breakfast had just begun, students were piling into the Great Hall. Hermione was equally disgruntled and worried, her source of concern sat right across her. Clearly, her words yesterday had yet to break into her friend's head. Harry had a blank look on his face, staring intently at the entrance of the Great Hall. So focused was he that he failed to notice that he was spreading jam on his wrist rather than his toast.
When the green-eyed girl finally made it to the Great Hall, his eyes homed in on her and stayed there. Honestly, Hermione was not sure whether Harry or Seryy deserved more sympathy. One lost in grief while the other was going to have to deal with the former sooner or later.
"Harry, wake up," Hermione snapped her fingers. "Are you planning on eating your toast or your arm?"
"Huh," Harry mumbled, shaking out of his reverie. "Merlin, what a mess."
"Harry, get a grip," Hermione sighed, drawing out her wand and cleaning up the mess on Harry's wrist. "We've been through this. It's. Not. Her."
"You don't know that."
"Who's not who and don't know what," Ron said, halfway through his second helping of bacon.
"The new student in our year, Anya Seryy. For some reason, Harry is convinced that she happens to be his sister solely on the basis that she looks like her."
"Wha-" the ginger sputtered. "Come on Harry, it can't be. She's dead, died years ago and- ow! Hermione, what the hell?"
"Show some sensitivity Ron," Hermione admonished. "You don't talk about the dead like that in front of their family."
"Fine, fine," Ron said hastily. "Besides, house sorting runs in family doesn't it? My entire family is Gryffindor and the Malfoy gits have always been in Slytherin. If she was a Potter wouldn't she be in Gryffindor with us?"
"Some break the trend," Harry grumbled. "Look at Sirius, isn't House Black all Slytherin? Works the other way around don't you think."
Ron stopped to think while Hermione stood up and made for the doors, dragging the two along. "Come on, let's go. First lesson is Transfiguration and we do not want to be late for Professor McGonagall's class."
Both boys made groans of protest as they followed the girl out to their classroom, but not before Harry stole another glace at the Slytherin table.
"And Harry, I don't want to see you jumping up on her at the corridors, you hear me?"
Her reply was another groan, before she finally had the two boys shoved out of the Great Hall.
XXXXX
"Anya!" a voice hollered from downstairs. "Get down here, bring your wand too."
A giggle erupted beside her and the girl next to her snatched the remote control from her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for? Aleks called you, get going, it's been a while since I got the TV to myself."
"Ass," muttered Anya, draining the last of her Invigoration Draught. She tossed the empty vial at the girl. "Tanya, hide this. If Aleks sees it, he'll go ballistic."
"At you, not at me," the girl chirped in a singsong tone as she started at the television, but pocketing the vial nonetheless. "Not just Aleksandr, but any of the adults really."
A walk down the stairs and to one of the 'prep' room revealed an irate Aleks, drumming his fingers on a table. Beside him was a young boy a year older than Anya, Kiel. He had the stereotypical blonde hair, blue eyed German look. He probably was German, given that Nathaniel's uncle found him in the German city which became his namesake. How Nathaniel's uncle knew their ages was always a wonder to Anya. He could always gauge the exact age of everyone he saw, though not precise to the birthday. In fact, that old man had always been an enigma, no one but Nathaniel knew his name. Everyone just called him Grey, or Seryy as it is called in Russian.
"Took your time," Aleks growled, gesturing to a stack of equipment on the table. "Nathaniel is conducting magic training, Dimitri and Wei Jen are already there."
"Where's the training?" Anya asked
Aleks promptly gave her a local map, a compass and a slip of paper containing the coordinates. "Remember, everything on the table goes along with the both of you."
Years ago, she would have sighed and grumbled. Now, there was just a grim nod as she followed Kiel, picking up the items on the table. First was a lightweight ballistic vest, which they slipped over their shirts. Over that went the various layers of winter clothing. A bulky bag of supplies – not that they needed them – went over their shoulders. Finally, they both picked up an AK-47 each, doing a standard inspection before slapping on a magazine.
"Remember, don't get caught," Aleks reminded them. "I got sick of Oblivating the Muggles whenever Tanya gets caught."
"Maybe we should have dragged her along," Kiel said softly with a fond smile. "Would be nice to have some pleasant company."
"Also," Aleks continued, "no Featherweight Charms, I'm looking at you Anya, we don't need a creepy eye to figure out what spells you cast to cheat. And... since the roads get more empty further up North, Vlad may or may not have hexed portions of the roads there. I wouldn't rely on following roads if I were the two of you."
The pair drew their wands and cast Disillusionment Charms and Notice-Me-Not Charms over themselves. A quick check on each other's wandwork and the two left the building.
"Can you see the hexes if they show up?" Kiel asked.
"Not yet," Anya shook her head. "I only finished up on properly seeing, knowing, identifying and deciphering ward systems. Nathaniel haven't gotten me to start on booby traps yet."
"Fine, we do this the normal way."
A Russian January was always cold despite being noon and the pair were glad that it was not snowing today. Disillusionment Charms would not stop the snow from silhouetting their figures. They weaved through the alleyways and into the woods up North, avoiding Muggles and possible wizards.
They never ever used their rifles in these trips. Rather, it was a way to force them to learn evasion and concealment, should their charms fail, they had to rely on avoiding the general public. Lest the Muggle police would come bearing down on the children who have firearms slung over them. It also served as an excellent form of dead weight.
Three miles in, and Anya could acutely feel the gnawing on her legs as both cold and fatigue clawed on skin, muscle and bone. She had done this before, albeit with increasing distance each time, but it never got easier. Ragged breaths wheezed out in foggy condensation as she trudged through the thick blanket of snow.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Left leg. Right leg.
Next checkpoint is just another hundred meters before adjusting compass bearing to zero-five-zero to reach the destination.
Come on, pain is good. It says that you are still alive.
A misstep on a patch of sleet and she slipped, she would have fell but a strong arm held her steady. Suddenly, her rifle was yanked out of her already unsteady grip. Pushing her messy locks of hair from her eyes, she glanced right and saw Kiel slinging her rifle over his shoulder. There was a brief moment of hesitation before both of them nodded at each other and fought on against the harsh cold.
It took another hour of trekking through the woods before the pair ended up at an abandoned warehouse near the Northern Dvina River. Nathaniel stood in front of Dimitri and Wei Jen, wand in hand. Before them laid several dead chickens, a dead pig and a dead monkey. Anya and Kiel cancelled their concealment charms, dropped their bags and ended up on their knees, panting from exhaustion.
"Kiel, Anya. Dobro pozhalovat'," said Nathaniel with a curt nod, checking his watch. "Good timing, tak derzhat'."
"For today's lesson, we will be learning the concealment and disposal of corpses. Transfiguration will be extensively used. Now to begin, we start with Fayette's Applied Principles of Transfiguration on Animal Anatomy-"
"-these will serve as the primary basis for many of our animal-based transfigurations for this and the coming years. For those of you who wish to progress to my NEWT classes, do remember these principles well for they can and will be applied to human transfiguration studied in NEWTs. Now, turn to page fifty-four of your copies of Intermediate Transfiguration and-"
The scratching of quill on parchment joined the voice of Professor McGonagall as the Transfiguration lesson went in full swing. Anya had her textbook propped up against her bag as she lazily jotted down notes. Having been through this before, she would rather spend her time catching up on other subjects. Despite requiring only three OWLs, ignoring other subjects will still end in detentions or remedial classes, both she hoped to avoid.
"Today, we will start with learning the transformation of animals into inanimate objects of a different volume," said Professor McGonagall, conjuring cages of guinea pigs in front of the students. "Start with transfiguring the guinea pigs provided into teacups. Do note that unlike your previous years, a difference in volume between entities transfigured will result in a higher demand in concentration."
Soon, the class was filled with shouts of incantation and wand movement. A swish and a flick of her wand and Anya had her guinea pig turn into a teacup.
"Ten points to Slytherin Ms Seryy."
"How did you do that?" asked Tracey Davis – a fellow Slytherin forth-year beside her – irritably.
Anya looked at her curiously and at the envious Ravenclaws behind shooting her furtive glances.
"Practice," Anya replied. "Never mind that, show me how you do it."
Davis obliged, only to have Anya grab her arm halfway through.
"Your wand movement is off, try locking your wrist for the first part and relaxing for the second part."
Davis narrowed her eyes in scepticism, but followed through nonetheless. To her delight, the spell got through, though the teacup was still covered in a layer of grey fur.
"Remind me that, for all its shortcomings, never to underestimate Russia's Wizarding education," Blaise Zabini grinned. He sat behind the pair of girls, both he and Theodore Nott had an incomplete but satisfactory teacup in front of them, credit to Anya's advice and their eavesdropping skills.
"They taught you this in Russia?" Davis inquired. "Don't they have to be a little one-on-one to pick out specific wand movement errors?"
"Yes," replied Anya, allowing a slight fond smile to form on her lips. The class was starting to be a drag to her, she missed her lessons back at Arkhangelsk. They were tough, but she always found them refreshing. There was something about learning in and from the open world, be it on the streets or in the woods, and learning with a tightly knit group. Here the stuffy confines of the classroom and the all too large – in her opinion – student to teacher ratio was starting to get on her nerves.
Class soon came to an end and the mass of Slytherins and Ravenclaws trickled out of class. The next lesson was Potions. Anya grimaced, potions was not going to be enjoyable. The lessons were passable despite hardly having any practice in Potions, but the pain in those lessons were mostly due to the Gryffindors sharing the same period. Or rather, a certain Gryffindor sharing the same period.
During the end start-of-term banquet, she had swept through the Great Hall, looking for her supposed brother. Even though they never met, shared no joy, grief or anger and were only siblings because of blood and nothing else, there was always a deep yearning of finding out who you were. Her brothers and sisters in Arkhangelsk had already become her family that she was proud of, but when presented with a link to the past of who she was supposed to be, her curiosity refused to skip that opportunity.
It was not difficult to spot him. Throughout the whole banquet, she could feel a persistent presence bearing down on her, the subtle sensation of being watched. She simply sought out the source and found Harry Potter staring at her from the Gryffindor table. For a brief moment she taught that Harry already knew who she was, which presented an issue of keeping her identity hidden. However, one glance at the forlorn yet hopeful look on her brother's face and she came to the conclusion that Harry merely suspected her of being his long-lost sister. She was safe for now, but a persistent person who acted on suspicions was a huge annoyance, one she will have to bear whenever she meets Harry. How he knew of her was another question, she suspected her parents' friends had filled him in.
In this case, Potions. She was very grateful that the only lessons she would sharing with Harry was Potions and Defence, but to her it was two too many. To top it off, there were both back-to-back, with only lunch acting as a respite.
Taking a deep breath, she set off with her fellow Slytherins into the dungeons. The Gryffindors had already taken their seats by the time she reached the class, she had easily figured out early on how biased her Head-of-House, Professor Snape, can be when it comes to punctuality. One step was as far as she got before she felt that familiar sensation of being watched once again. She took a cursory glance at the Gryffindors and managed to pick up Harry staring at her.
With an emotionless mask, she settled down with the rest of the Slytherins and the lesson commenced. Luckily, the presence of Gryffindors in Snape's class means that the attention of their Potions Master was mostly focused on harassing them, the Slytherins simply needed to only sit back and enjoy the show. The highlight of said show involved a Neville Longbottom melting his cauldron in what can only be attributed to a series of glaring errors in his potion making. Snape simply vanished the mess, deducted twenty points from Gryffindor for 'clumsiness' and gave the poor Gryffindor a detention.
As Snape made a rare round through the Slytherin portion of the dungeons, Anya found her own cauldron being inspected by Snape. Being a newly transferred student, Anya was expecting more scrutiny from the various teachers and she was right. It was at times annoying when there was a teacher constantly breathing down her neck, especially for Herbology when the Hufflepuff nature in Professor Sprout demanded extra care and attention for a student new to the Hogwarts curriculum. Snape peered down at her cauldron's contents for a few seconds before moving on without a comment.
Passable, I guess.
The ringing of the bell was a relief to what Anya considered as a mild agony. She and the rest of the class began packing up their bags, looking forward to lunch. Making her way down the corridor, someone called out to her.
"Seryy. Wait up!"
She turned around to find herself facing Harry, his usual retinue missing. His jaw was firmly locked, but his eyes were screaming out his intentions. This was the huge annoyance Anya had hope to come into as little contact as possible. It took a few moments before Harry's jaw finally came loose.
"Hi, nice to meet you," Harry stammered. "I just wanted to say 'Welcome to Hogwarts'… and Britain too I guess. I'm Harry Potter."
He held out his hand and Anya took it, giving a polite shake before letting go.
"So I've heard," Anya said smoothly. "Anya Seryy, but you already know that. Will that be all? I need to go for lunch."
"Yes… no, I mean…" Harry struggled to find his words, trying to not make his intention blatantly obvious should his suspicions end up wrong. "You look very familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"
"Not unless you've been to Russia, no I don't think so."
"You've never been to Britain before transferring here?"
"As far as I can recall, no."
"Not even as a kid, maybe when you were a baby?"
Anya internally sighed, he was getting nearer and nearer to being mentally painful.
"No," she said firmly. "And I'm pretty sure that as a baby, I will have no recollection whatsoever and neither will you. Additionally, I'm also sure that seeing me as a baby and comparing it to my current appearance should not be triggering any sense of 'looking familiar'."
"Oh, yeah," Harry finished lamely before awkwardly gesturing to her. "How about we both make way to the Great Hall, yeah?"
Finding no polite way out and not wanting to be rude, Anya settled for a curt nod and letting her brother lead the way. She kept her distance though, not wanting to let Harry get comfortable in her presence lest he start seeking her out more.
"So… how has it been in Hogwarts so far?"
"Fine."
"Do you have any problems transitioning here from Russia?"
"Curriculum is a little different and there are many new faces. Other than that, not much problem."
"Do you realise we kind of look alike, the same hair and eye colour, facial features too actually."
Smooth going.
"Apparently so."
"Do you have any siblings back there in Russia?"
Even smoother.
"Yes."
"Yes?" Harry said in surprised, snapping his head to stare at Anya, who was meeting his stare in challenge.
"Yes, I have. Is there any problem with that?"
"No… nothing really, just that I never had siblings," Harry mumbled in a fluster. "My family back home is pretty lame too, live with my aunt and uncle. How is your family back in Russia?"
"Rowdy, exciting and something I'm proud of."
"Why'd you come over here to Hogwarts anyway?"
This stumped Anya. How does one get off citing family reasons to a direct family member who suspects you of being family? Anya was quite sure using that line of reasoning was going to cause Harry to jump to many uncomfortably accurate conclusions with the suspicions he was acting under. When they neared the Great Hall, rescue came in the form of Hermione and Astoria.
"Harry!"
"Anya!"
Both girls rushed forward, before stopping and looking at one other suspiciously. Then, they looked at the two green-eyed fourth-years with equal suspicion.
"What are the two of you doing together?" Astoria asked, always keen on having speaking priority.
"Potter here offered to walk me to the Great Hall in order to ease me into life at Hogwarts."
"Merlin, I am so sorry if he spoke or acted inappropriately," Hermione burst out, speaking frantically. "He didn't disturb you in any way right?"
If there was ever an opportunity to reign in Harry, this was one, and Anya was not going to hesitate.
"Well, he did ask me question after question along the lines of looking alike and my family back in Russia."
Hermione looked aghast as she promptly dragged Harry off into the Great Hall furiously whispering to him, "What did I tell you notto do? What did I tell you not to do?"
"Lunch?" Astoria said innocently.
"Lunch," Anya agreed, following the second-year girl to the Slytherin table. She had only just taken a seat when she was approached by an irate Malfoy.
"Seryy, what were you doing? Hanging around with the prat Potter."
"Maybe our dear Russian friend here has a crush on the Golden Gryffindor Boy," teased Parkinson with a false giggle.
"Relax, Malfoy," Anya replied calmly. "Potter simply wanted to walk me to the Great Hall and there was no point in being unnecessarily rude to him."
"Unnecessarily rude?" Malfoy replied hotly. "He is an arrogant airhead and we Slytherins should not be associating with him, kick him off the next time he comes over."
"Unless," Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "you're a Muggle lover like him too. I've seen you walking around with all those Muggle items, jotting down notes with- what's that thing? A fen?"
"Pen," Anya corrected lazily. "You try taking down notes with ink and quill as a left-hander. When you smudge your notes enough times, you find using a ballpoint pen a lot more practical."
Her insistent usage of various Muggle items has been the source of many arguments with her housemates, mainly hardliners such as Malfoy. It started off with taking down notes with pen and paper instead of quill and parchment – although homework still had to be submitted in the later form. Then it progressed to wearing her digital watch, which hid the runic script on her wrist. The watch surprisingly still worked within the thick magical environment of Hogwarts, though she was forced to recalibrate it every day as its precision was greatly hampered. The icing on the cake had been her use of a torchlight one time in her dorms during midnight to get to the bathroom, which ended in Parkinson screaming, "What do you even have a wand for!?"
At least they did not see the Muggle items Anya usually had hidden in her robes. Her pistol, Swiss knife and switchblade. She could only imagine the aneurysm Malfoy would have if he ever saw them, and the epileptic fit he would have should he figure out what they were for.
However, she forwent her hidden items for today, and planned to do so for the days she would have her Defence classes. She had seen the magical eye Moody possessed and planned to take the safe route. She stilled carried them on other days, understanding the difference between what one can see and what one can notice, if she kept away from him and into the crowds, she was safe. She felt a little naked without the safety of her the weapons she used more than her wand, but it was better than risking herself getting caught by an Auror. She was not sure of the knowledge British Aurors had on firearms and concealed Muggle weapons, but she was not taking chances.
The only risk left was the runic scripts etched on her body. Granted, the scripts were small and inconspicuous, but there was always a chance that the ex-Auror might start asking questions.
"Whatever," Malfoy snorted, turning to leave. "Just make sure you keep your sense of propriety when around us."
"What an ass," snickered Zabini from across the table. "Start eating already Seryy, or the good seats for Defence will be all taken up."
Indeed, with the stories told by students from other years and houses, Moody's classes have been painted as an eye-opener, prompting students who have yet to the class eager to attend. This is case, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were wolfing down their lunch at top seat to get priority seating in the classroom.
"I suspect certain levels of exaggeration concerning Defence classes," Anya replied evenly, in a short few days at Hogwarts she had managed to build a sense of camaraderie with the dark-skinned Slytherin. Their shared foreign background – Zabini had emigrated from Italy to Britain at the age of eight – providing a base for developing rapport. "What's the deal with Malfoy anyway, Pureblood houses – or what's left of them – back in Russia aren't that Muggle-phobic. Heck, you aren't like that even with your utter disdain for 'filthy blood' and your childhood friendship with him."
"That's Russia for you Seryy. And unlike Malfoy, the lack of a father figure in my life has blessed me with the clarity to understand the difference between Muggles and their inventions. One should be kept out of our society while the other is something to be made used of. It's similar to goblins and gold, you can hate the short buggers but you can't help loving the Galleons they mint."
Anya chuckled at that as she ate. Despite the outward frostiness, Zabini can be amiable once you get past the initial reclusiveness.
"And in the case of Muggles," Zabini continued, "they may be second-class humans but their facial products are exceptionally brilliant at doing their job."
Anya's chuckles turned into a full-blown snigger. She realised as she got acquainted with Zabini that he was very vain about his appearance and it amused her to no end."
"They are?" Astoria chimed in.
"Their moisturisers last way longer than any wizarding products, I'll give them that," Zabini said finishing the last scraps of his food. "Come on Seryy, let's go hunt Nott down. I want to smoke a fag and I left mine in the dorms. Unless you have yours with you?"
Fags had in fact been the cause for Anya to get along with Zabini – and Nott. The second day in Hogwarts had her bump into the two in a deserted corridor, Nott had been the one smoking while Zabini had been asking him to spare a stick. Living and working with Dimitri back home had ingrained Anya with the habit of bringing along a spare packet of cigarettes, a nicotine-free Dimitri was a grumpy Dimitri. She never used the packet she carried though, they were solely for Dimitri should he ever run out and she refused to deal with a grumpy Dimitri. He had her try one out back when she was nine, it ended poorly with fits of coughing.
Seeing Zabini's plight, she simply spared a stick from her packet and conversation between the three struck up right then and there. Anya had been surprised that the two Purebloods were delving into smoking cigarettes, which was firmly labelled a Muggle habit by Pureblood houses. Apparently, the prim and proper Pureblood source of tobacco was from snuffboxes. Conversation initially started with said surprise and she found out that having being mostly left on their own, Zabini with no father and a mother who frequented tea parties and Nott with no mother and a father who spent more time on 'Death Eater' business, the two had wandered into Muggle Britain multiple times, picking up smoking from there.
The two still retained the conservative Pureblood views on Muggles but developed a grudging respect and tolerance for their inventions with each time they strayed into the Muggle world. Their parents had frequently sent them over to the Malfoys to bond with the other Pureblood children, but their lack of parents to look up to and changing views on Muggles created a rift between them and most of the other children, a rift that only grew with time. Zabini thanked Anya for the cigarette and there was an unspoken agreement that she was allowed to join the two loners of Slytherin.
"Nope, didn't bring any contrabands with me. Not when the next class has an ex-Auror teaching it," Anya shrugged. "Nott shouldn't be too difficult to find, find the older Greengrass and you'll find Nott. Astoria, where's your sister?"
"She left for Defence with Nott already," the second-year replied, still eating her lunch.
"Bloody damn shame," Zabini muttered, picking up his bag. "Well, no choice then, off to class."
The two made their way over to Defence class and when they entered, Anya was glad to see that Harry's attention was on the class and not on her. The class heard rather than saw Moody enter the classroom, the clunking of his wooden leg giving him away.
"You can put those way, those books, we wouldn't be needing them."
The buzz of excitement rose even higher upon those words, except for Malfoy who shrunk further back into the corner of the class, clearly traumatised by the ferret incident that took place days ago. Moody took no heed, simply drawing out a class register to take the attendance. Anya was a little excited too, she couldn't deny that. It was not every day one got to learn magical combat straight from an ex-Auror, especially when said ex-Auror got to the topic of highly illegal curses within a minute into class.
"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"
Several hands rose into the air and Moody picked out a ginger Gryffindor, Ron Weasley.
"Er, my dad told me about one… is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"
"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."
Moody took out a glass jar containing three large, black spiders. He fished one out and pointed his wand at it, muttering "Imperio."
The spider swung into action, performing cartwheels and dances on Moody's palm, much to the laughter of the whole class except from Moody himself and Anya.
"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"
The laughter died away almost immediately and Anya grimaced slightly, past memories of a Chinese human trafficking ring coming to her mind as Moody continued his lesson. The hazy, blank look on a gaunt, ragged Chinese boy her age that would later grow up to be a person she trusted her life with multiple times.
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody sharp voice brought her back to the present.
"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"
This time Neville's hand came up. Anya was surprised, her short contact with him in Potions had her pegging him as a docile boy filled with innocence.
"Yes?"
"There's one – the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville, in a small but distinct voice.
"Your name's Longbottom?" Moody asked, checking the class register.
Neville nodded nervously but Moody made no comments, fishing out the second spider instead.
"The Cruciatus Curse, needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," said Moody, enlarging the spider with quick spell before pointing his wand firmly on the spider. "Crucio."
At once, the spider jerked up, rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Anya was glad Nathaniel spent a great deal of time slowly desensitising her and others to torture and death. Slowly from television shows, to an actual dead body. To the process of a quick, clean death, to a slow death. An even slower death. Messier. Slower. Finally, torture. They each found their own way to cope. This display would not have held a candle to that night in Vladivostok.
The shrill voice of a panicked Hermione caused Moody to cut the spell, shrinking the spider back and placing it into the jar.
"Pain, you don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… that one was very popular once, too."
"Right… anyone know any others?"
This time, it was Hermione who got the honour to answer.
"Yes?"
"Avada Kedavra," she whispered.
"Ah. Yes, the last and the worst. Avada Kedavra… the Killing Curse."
The rest of Moody's demonstration was a blur to Anya as her eyes glazed over, lost once more in memories. This time she was in the waning days of 1989, Romania. Gunfire and green jets of light building up a cacophony and showcase of brutal violence, death in a vain attempt to preserve what was already dying.
Stare. Stare in the eyes. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. Remember and recall so you can always know it. Know it well so you do not fear it. Humans will fear what they do not know.
Her personal mantra kept repeating in her mind over and over as she successfully fought to breathe calmly, turning her attention back to the lesson.
"Not nice. Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."
All attention in the class now turned on Harry Potter, including Anya. Her brother was a curiosity, she cannot deny that, to take a Killing Curse only to survive and somehow vanquish Voldemort, nobody has ever done that. Nathaniel's uncle, Grey, would have paid a fortune to have Harry in his hands for a good long run of experimentation.
Curiosity soon turned to herself, why did she live? She came out from the ordeal with only a missing eyes, a problem that had been fixed. Why was her right eye, and not her life, that was the target of Voldemort? Killing her off would have been much simpler. There probably was another factor at hand, one she was pretty sure of being stupidly simple, just that she was unable to pick it out.
Not that it mattered anymore, Voldemort was dead and the essay on curses that Moody had given the class was a far greater threat to her wellbeing. The class packed up their bags and left the room and instantly descended into a waved of awestruck conversations, the first lesson from Moody had certainly cemented an impression on them.
Days went by as Anya slowly found her pace in Hogwarts. True to her predication, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies were a breeze for her, with Professor Babbling and Professor Burbage saying that she was a joy to teach. Professor McGonagall even started to show her favour despite the green trimmings on her school robe. Charms, Potions and Herbology had been alright, she neither flunked nor excelled at those. History of Magic and Astronomy had been long given up as a lost cause.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was a solid so-so, she knew a few Defence spells such as the Knockback Jinx and Stunning Spell, but her comparative lack of contact and study with dark creature and dark magic meant that she was woefully unfamiliar with the counter-curses required in the coursework. At least for Herbology and Potions, she came across enough illegal shipments to familiarise herself with the various plants, ingredients and potions.
A surprise came when Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the class under the Imperius Curse to demonstrate its power and effect, much to the protest of a few students. In the end, the fear of Moody outweighed the fear of the Imperius Curse and each students took their turn being placed under the curse.
Each student had their turn being ridiculed in front of the class, starting from the Gryffindors to the Slytherins. Nearly all Gryffindors succumbed to the curse, with Harry being the sole exception. His first attempt at throwing off the curse resulted in a pair of fractured kneecaps as his body couldn't decide between following the curse and following Harry, causing him to smash into a desk and toppling onto the floor knee-first. Moody had him try again and again until he could successfully throw off the curse completely, summing up to four tries.
Finally, Moody turned to the Slytherins. The elated and nervous mood between the two houses swung polar opposite as he did so.
"Alright, now it's time for the Slytherins," Moody growled, his magical eye darting about each Death Eater children. "Hopefully some of your parents taught you how to fight the curse instead of how to cast it."
One by one, the Slytherin had their own turn with the Imperius Curse. Gryffindor laughter climaxed at Malfoy's turn, who performed an admirable impression of a ferret, Moody clearly had his wicked sense of humour.
"Seryy, your turn," Moody barked, beckoning forth the girl.
Anya walked forward, once again painfully aware of the green eyes staring at her. She took a deep breath, preparing to fight against the reflex that Nathaniel had conditioned her with should she ever come in contact with the Imperius Curse or Legilimency. If she followed through, it would undoubtedly make a scene she would rather avoid. As Moody levelled the wand at her, she released her breath, clenching her right hand in an attempt to keep it from moving.
"Imperio."
The moment she heard that word and felt the empty, blissful sensation take over, her attempt immediately became in vain. Her reflex clawed through her resistance and her arm seemed to move on its own, bringing her right hand up to her mouth. In one swift lunging motion she bit hard on her hand, drawing blood from the bite as teeth sank into flesh. The pain and adrenaline combined with her push of protesting willpower threw the curse off instantly, it was a cheap trick to combat mind magic and Nathaniel had ruthlessly drilled her on it.
She collapsed on all fours from the exertion and before she realised it, her wand was in her left hand, pointing straight at Moody. Her breath surged in and out jerkily through gritted teeth and she was feeling light-headed from the raging blood flow, the adrenaline had already clouded her mind.
Anya reckoned that she looked like a mess, poised like a cornered animal with blood on her hand and mouth. Judging from the shocked expression on her classmates, she was probably right. She withdrew her wand and staggered up to her feet, trying in put on an air of nonchalance, which did nothing to soothe the stunned silence.
"What the hell was that!?" Dean Thomas finally cried from the seats.
"That, Thomas, was an impressive display," Moody growled in approval. "Three seconds to throw the curse off and you had your wand out for defence in an instant, ten points to Slytherin Seryy. I would have given you more if you hadn't resorted to biting yourself. Now look here class, Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter, and you lot should be learning to draw your wands as quick as her."
Anya walked back to the seat, with all eyes on her. A few taps of her wand had her blood cleaned up and the bite healed.
"Seryy, what in Merlin's name was that?" Zabini asked, his eyes wide in awe.
"That is something I'd rather not talk about."
XXXXX
"Seryy, your turn."
Harry's head swivelled over to the girl he suspected of being Anne. He watched as Moody placed her under the Imperius Curse. To his absolute shock, she did the last thing he would have expected.
The girl bit her own hand.
His jaw dropped wide open and he heard Hermione gasp beside him. Anya looked positively feral with the tense posture and blood on her mouth. As she recovered, Moody gave her ten points and a rare compliment. However, all Harry picked up was another shred of hope from Moody's words.
Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter.
There it was, another link. Another connection he so desperately sought out between him and Anya.
"How on Earth did she do that," Hermione voiced out as they left the classroom. "She just bites her own hand and throws off the curse. In all the books I've read, none mentioned biting your own hand to combat the Imperius Curse."
"Worked though dinnit?" Ron said dazedly, still awestruck by Anya's performance. "You can't learn everything from books."
"Well, as Professor Moody said," Harry said apprehensively. "She had the same mental willpower as me. So you know... She may-"
Hermione's eyes widen as she realised where Harry was going with the conversation.
"Oh no you don't," she cut in sharply. "That does not prove that Seryy is Anne Potter. What kind of a leap in logic is that?"
"Come on Hermione," Harry fought back hotly. "She looks like the girl in the Mirror of Erised, we share a good deal of facial features and we share the same mental willpower. Ron, what do you think?"
"I dunno," Ron said uncertainly. "You may have a point, but it could be coincidence."
"You think Veritaserum would let us know?" Harry theorised. "Or maybe a DNA test, is there a magical alternative to that?"
"Coincidence," Hermione pressed exasperatedly. "That's all there is too it."
However, Harry had a plan. One he was sure of, a guaranteed foolproof solution.