Chapter 13 - Dungeon

"Seryy, you alright?"

Anya snapped herself back into focus, almost stumbling onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around at the passing sixth-year Slytherin who called out to her, something was clearly wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the Slytherin seemed satisfied by her response and carried on his path.

Did I just zone out on my way here?

Stretching her arms over her head, she continued her way to the Slytherin common room. Then, a humming sensation on the back of her head made her stop, dread creeping up on her. She never thought that those runes would ever be activated, especially not here in Hogwarts. Carved into the back of her skull was a small circle of runes, about the size of a galleon. It had been a nightmarish process involving too much of a scalpel-wielding Vlad, but Nathaniel insisted that it was necessary. It was a Mind Magic runic script, providing and enhancing Occlumency as well as providing defence against unwanted tempering of one's mind.

It was not perfect, but it was something. And its hum was informing Anya that someone had just tempered with her mind. The runes were currently attempting to restore her mind back to the original state, hence the hum, it would take days, weeks or even months depending on the skill of the caster. Taking slow deep breaths, Anya forced herself to calm down before taking a look at her watch. It had been twenty minutes since she left the Great Hall, she remembered taking the turn into the dungeons and somehow ending up here. She did the math in her head, factoring in her walking speed and her current location. It had taken five to ten more minutes than necessary to end up here, which was also the duration she could not remember.

Just what could possibly happen in five to ten minutes? And just who was it? It couldn't have been a surprise attack, I can see those coming. No, there had to be a fight, one that ended in me losing. Probably not a student, one of the teachers?

Filtering through the list of suspects, Anya came to the most likely conclusion, Mr Crouch. After all, there had been that letter from Dimitri, and that man used to be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it was not too far-fetched. Maybe she had caught him smuggling in those dark ritual ingredients that Dimitri had mentioned about and he was forced to Oblivate her. Well, she couldn't possibly know and she did not plan on jumping to conclusions, once the runes did their job, the truth will be revealed. For the time being, she had to be very careful with Mr Crouch.

XXXXX

December 1991

"This is the place?"

"Yep, it's the whole district too, this town is a Red stronghold. More than half the shops you see are a front for their activities."

The two of them were looking at a shopping district of a town. Most of the stores had already closed, not many roamed the streets. There was an open bar or two, a brightly lit convenience store that operated the night hours and a butcher shop that was just turning in for the night. Other than that, the no light came from the buildings.

"Who are we going after again?" Anya slowly slid in a fresh magazine into her Dragunov, enjoying the clicking sound as it went in place.

"They call him the Butcher and he's Ignovich's right hand man," Kiel answered. "Can't believe the coward actually sold all his partners out."

The two of them were currently nestled on top of a water tower, the tallest structure they could find in the town. Despite the water tower being far from district they were looking at, this was still the best view the two of them could find. Kiel had a pair of modified omniculars in his hands, his own sniper rifle lay idly beside him. He had a very good aim but at this distance, it was much better to let Anya do all the shooting while he provided spotting assistance. Nathaniel was not with them, having left to catch bigger fishes. Instead, it was another one of the nameless faces Anya had seen multiple times who was leading this operation.

Anya glanced at her watch, it was six in the evening, but the winter season had ensured that the sun was already vanishing out of sight. Ten more minutes and the assault would commence, Anya nudged her partner and showed him the timing on her watch. The two nodded at one another and each pulled out a gas mask from their bags. Pulling the rubbery masks over their heads, the pair performed a quick buddy check, making sure their masks were worn properly and that the filters were in working condition. After adjusting their masks for comfort, the two children went back to surveying the area. She saw a lot of enemies and she was glad Nathaniel's uncle, Grey, had the sense to send a larger team here. Strands of magic radiated from patrolling wizards and there were more than just a few machine gun nests hidden around. This was not going to be a skirmish like Vladivostok, but if all went well, it was going to be a massacre.

Off in the distance, Anya could already see lines of magic sprouting around the town, a combination of Muggle-repelling wards, Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey Jinxes. Grey truly was a magical and logistical genius, Anya had to give credit to the grumpy old man, coming up with a reliable method to ward off an entire town from scratch within half an hour was no easy feat. The Muggle-repelling wards have been up for an hour by this point, hopefully, most of the innocent population would have left the town on some sudden errand. Maybe some of the Red's Muggle fighting force would have left too, probably not though, they had been charmed to resist wards of those nature.

Ten more minutes for any innocent passer-by to vacate the shopping district. If not, they would likely die, nobody here really cared about the collateral damage. What's left of the Ministry will cover up for them.

Time decided to move slowly as the ten minutes passed by, neither of them saying a word to the other. As the ten minutes of silence passed, a sharp whistling sound signalled the commencement of the assault. It tore through the dark sky, leaving behind the faintest trail of illuminating light. Arching over their heads, the small white light flew towards the town, heading for the shopping district. Behind it, dozens of similar light followed its path.

As the white disappeared within the buildings and streets, plumes of dust and smoke erupted up. Even from where she and Kiel laid, she could feel the slight tremor and the air rumbled in a thunderous clap. When the first light made its violent mark, the rest followed, plunging into the district. Only a few more explosions followed, the rest descended without the fanfare of its counterparts. The ones that didn't explode were not duds, in Anya's opinion, those were more sinister. Those were the reason each of them had been issued a gas mask.

Just as the dust was settling, various squads of men on broomsticks from all directions zoomed through the streets, heading for the shopping district. They kept in tight formation, some ascending over the buildings to rain down spells while most dismounted upon reaching their destination, dashing for cover the moment they did. When the white lines drew tight, so she her finger on the trigger. A soft thump and one of the machine gun nest located in the second floor of a shop went silent.

"Hit," said Kiel, his voice sounding hollow due to the gas mask. "Next target. Bearing two-zero-zero. Range, one-seven-three-three. Machine gun nest in the third storey of the green building, two windows from the left. Zero wind change"

Another round fired, lighting their surroundings in a brief flash that only they could see. Half a second later and the bullet found its mark, silencing yet another threat.

"Hit. Next target. Bearing one-niner-four. Range, one-five-six-two. Stationary wizard in the middle of the street firing Killing Curses. Wind change, adjust left by four clicks."

For the next hour, that had been the routine, Kiel would mark out targets, keep track of the winds and indicate any sight adjustments required while Anya followed his instructions. When the moon had reached its zenith, an eerie silence had finally settled over the town. There were smoke columns in the air and the warm glow of burning wreckage scattered throughout the area. When the 'all clear' signal was given - three green flares, one blue flare - Anya and Kiel decided to inspect the carnage.

Death, the whole place was permeating with its sickening stench – which in this case, smelt surprisingly akin to freshly cut grass. Burnt carcasses and bodies hit with more exotic curses contributed to most of the foul odour, not that any of them could smell it, everyone had their gas masks on. With the phosgene gas still lingering the air, the only other alternative was a Bubble-Head Charm. Nobody used that charm, everyone on the job knew that a Muggle gas mask was the safer option; it was less prone to puncture.

"Remind me again why Grey always brings phosgene gas for operations like this?" Anya asked uncomfortably, avoiding another dead body.

"It's colourless," Kiel humoured the rhetorical question, equally uncomfortable with the grim atmosphere. But the two of them neither backed out nor did they voice any complaints. "And wizards don't notice them until it's too late. It's much easier fighting an enemy who is half-choking and forced to maintain a Bubble-Head Charm."

"Did they catch the Butcher?"

"Yes," Kiel nodded. "Fed him to the dogs from what I've heard, literally. They probably took a page out of Nathaniel's books."

They came across a smouldering butcher shop, where three of their Spooks stood outside, casting spells all over the place. From the looks of it, there was an even bigger commotion inside. The two children turned to each other and held a silent conversation, before nodding and heading for the shop. One of the three men noticed the incoming children and headed to stop them.

"You'd better not want to enter this place," the man grunted. "It's an absolute mess."

"Why's that?" Kiel asked.

"You'll find out why they call him the Butcher if you do," the man spoke ominously. "If you still want to enter, then on your heads it'll be."

Kiel turned to Anya for her appraisal and the girl shrugged, as though saying 'why not'. The blonde turned back to the man and gave a firm nod, walking towards the butcher shop with Anya behind him. The front door had been blown open by a curse and any glass that existed were on the floor as shards. Hooks dangled from the ceiling, hanging up various cuts and joints of twined meat. The people inside were busy checking the shelves and drawers for anything interesting, overturning tables and cabinets. Ahead of them, a trapdoor to the basement laid when open, one of their Spooks occasionally leaving and entering.

The dark maw seemed to draw the two of them in and they cautiously made their way down the trapdoor steps. Each step brought out the slight tap of their boots on the concrete, only further resonated by the close walls. However, a screaming voice seemed to drown out their gentle footsteps. The place was large, unnaturally so, an Extension Charm must have been put in place. As they reached the basement, their boots squished on the sickly blood that threatened to flood the place.

Bodies.

Bodies everywhere. Some hung from hooks on the basement ceiling, akin to the meat upstairs. Others laid on the rows of tables that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Those were mutilated beyond belief, entrails spewed out from their bodies, some had their legs dismembered and others stripped of their skin and their eyeballs removed. In another corner of the twisted workplace, organs were stored in jars filled with runic carvings and various bags were filled with blood. They were all catalogued and labelled, some already in crates. Ingredients to fuel the magical black market.

And for the most useless part of the bodies in terms of black market value, the meat, those were carved expertly into manageable pieces, drained of all blood and twined up in butchers string. When the realisation hit them that the Butcher had sold the unwanted meat to the residents of the town, Kiel bent over and retched in his gas mask. Anya could feel the bile rising in her throat through, she cast a Bubble-Head Charm on herself and ripped off her gas mask. Fumbling at her vest, she opened a pouch and took out a vial of orange liquid. Pulling out the stopper, she drained the vial in a single shot, exhaling in a ragged breath as the liquid entered her stomach. As the cold familiar shock of energy reached her fingertips, she shuddered and fixed her eyes open, allowing the rush of energy to clear her mind.

Stare. Stare. Stare. Do not back down.

Catching her breath once more, she placed her gas mask back on and cancelled the charm. She turned to find Kiel applying a cleaning charm on his gas mask in an attempt to remove the bile he expunged. The two looked at one another, they were tempted to leave, they were going to leave, but a fresh shriek of anguish drew their curiosity like moth to a light. Edging closer to the back of the basement revealed rows and rows of cages, and within them rested bodies. Some were still alive, barely so, choking their lives out gradually. Most lay dead, their contorted bodies signalling a painful death. The phosgene gas must have seeped in when the shells rained down on the district. All of the people here were meant for slaughter, locked up like cattle waiting to be sold.

"AHHHHHHHH!" the fresh wails caught the pair's attention once more. Bringing their focus to a group of Spooks who were surveying the scene before them. A young boy knelt on the cold metal cage he was trapped in, dressed in tattered rags. In his arms was a dying girl, choking softly as the gas that permeated the air slowly robbed her of her life.

"Sestra! Sestra! Ostat'sya v zhivykh! (Sister! Sister! Stay alive!)" the boy held his sister tightly, shaking her gently. Slowly, the light in the girl's eyes faded and the gas robbed her final breath away. "Pozhaluysta, ostavaytes' v zhivykh. Vy moya yedinstvennaya sem'ya ostalas', tak chto, pozhaluysta, zhivi.(Please, stay alive. You are my only family left, so please live.)"

Another cry of grief wrecked the boy as he finally realised his sister's passing. He could do nothing but watch as his sister died, his life secured by a Bubble-Head Charm he had conjured from accidental magic. Anya looked at her fellow comrades who watched the scene, they were all frozen stiff in shock. She could see the surprise etched in their eyes through the eyepiece of their gas masks. They hadn't been expecting this, nobody had. Everyone knew there would be innocent lives lost as collateral damage, but their Muggle-repelling wards would have eliminated many unnecessary lives lost. Anyone else caught in the gas would have had ample time to flee, the rest would have discounted as bad luck, they had all been trained to adopt that mindset. But this was not bad luck, this was just disgustingly depressing, trapped behind metal bars with nowhere to run as invisible death tightened its grip on their lungs.

Anya made her way pass the frozen adults and to the wailing boy, kneeling in front of him. Slowly, she moved her hand over the dead girl's face and covered her eyes, bringing some semblance of solace to the poor soul. She faced the boy and stared into his eyes that bore a similar green shade as hers. Despair, sorrow, grief, Anya wasn't sure which words suited the pitiful face in front of her. The two children looked at one another, they could not be possibly more different. One was donned in combats pants and boots with multiple layers of thick clothing that culminated in a ballistic vest and jacket, lithe, healthy and fit with a rifle sling over her shoulder. The other had only a thin layer of rags to fend of the cold and did not even have shoes on, skinny, sick and shivering from the cold.

At that moment, Anya did not care for they were both the same, children caught in this hellish bloodshed. She pulled the poor boy into a tight hug and allowed him to cry his heart out onto her shoulders. As his sobs subsided, she scoped him up and heaved him onto her back, piggybacking him out of that nightmare and to the surface. She tore her eyes from the boy's face, but she knew that sight would wander in her dreams for the rest of her life.

XXXXX

"Alright Seryy, one last time," said Zabini as he let out a puff of smoke. The three reclusive Slytherins found themselves lounging around in an unused classroom. "How in Merlin's name did you pull that off?"

Anya shrugged nonchalantly and offered a cigarette - both boys had left their back in their dorms - to Nott, who graciously accepted it. "Mate, if she ain't saying anything. She ain't saying anything, period." Zabini grumbled silently, muttering something about 'bribed by fags' before the trio fell back into companionable silence, enjoying the peace.

"No, seriously," Zabini broke the silence again. "You can't just do that."

Anya chuckled, Zabini had yet to let her off the hook for her wandless magic at the Second Task. In fact, almost everyone had yet to do so as well, despite weeks passing by. From the hallways to the classrooms, whispers followed her regarding the Second Task. Frankly, Anya could not see the fuss herself, after Nathaniel had drilled the similarities between a children's accidental magic and wandless magic in her head, she found her own wandless magic quite lacking. Some of the accidental magic that children pull off are more impressive than the cantrips adult can cast with wandless magic.

"Well, she did," said Nott. "Still, any ideas on what's for the Third Task?" The Third Task should be coming anytime soon, despite a vague date for the task, Anya felt that it was probably a week or two away.

"Like I said, Bagman acted all spooky and said it was a terrifying mystery," said Anya as she scratched the back of her head, right over where the hum of the runes were. She had been a lot more jumpy lately, though she never showed it to others. Having someone in the castle who had altered her mind did little to soothe her. To top it off, she feared her recovery would not be complete for months, whoever it was did a thorough job.

"Man's an overdramatic twat," Zabini snorted. "How he even become a Head of Department is the bigger question."

"Well it's almost time for Runes," Anya declared with a sigh, hopping off the table she had been sitting on. "Nott and I better make a move, see you soon Zabini."

XXXXX

Anya Seryy. That girl was an enigma, it was the first thought that Hermione could come up with whenever she saw that Russian girl. Everything about her seemed so inconsistent and uncanny that she wondered why Harry ever thought of her as his sister - thank God that fiasco was dealt with.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she saw the girl in question, scrutinising at the Slytherin for anything that seemed out of place. The girl entered the classroom with Nott, exchanging a few words and making their way to the back of the class where they settled themselves down. No doubt about it, that girl was an enigma.

In total, Hermione shared three classes with the transfer student, Runes, Potions and Defence. And in each of these classes, what little attention she had paid to the Slytherin girl made the girl even stranger. She excelled in Runes, Hermione herself would begrudgingly admit that, she performed at a NEWT-level proficiency, maybe even going further as to say it was a Gringotts curse-breaker standard. In Potions, she seemed just average but Defence was what struck her as the most uncanny. For starters, she seemed to be the only one unfazed by Moody's erratic behaviour and despite showing no distinct aptitude in that subject, her ability to hold herself in actual combat - as demonstrated in the Second Task - was on a level expected from Aurors, she even broke the Imperius Curse Moody had placed on her.

It was almost as though she had experience in real life combat, but Hermione dismissed that foolish notion. Finally, there was the incident, as she called it, with wandless magic during the Second Task. Hermione herself had tried desperately to learn wandless magic since her first year, scouring through various books in the library when she had the free time. In the end, the whole feat seemed too advanced for her and after a few inquiries with Professor McGonagall she decided to drop it, saving it for the future. Somehow, the Slytherin girl seemed to be able to cast high-powered curses using wandless magic at the age of fourteen, Hermione herself was saving her second attempt for her sixth year. Hermione could not deny feeling jealous.

"Alright, everyone settle down," said Professor Babbling rapping her wand on the table, smiling genially at her students. She was upbeat, perky and encouraging, a good choice of tutor for a depressingly difficult subject. Behind Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, she was easily Hermione's next most favourite teacher. "Lesson's about to start."

Almost immediately, the students began to give their undivided attention to the willowy professor. Hermione internally smiled at the rapt attention that the students gave here unlike the core subject classes. Being in an elective class that was considered as the second most difficult - behind Arithmancy - had its perks, everyone who was there came willingly to learn, any of the slackers in their year would have scurried off to another elective like Divination.

"For the rest of this second semester, all of you here will be doing a pair project. This project will contribute to twenty percent of your final grade, so do put in your best effort for this. Remember, we're aiming for everyone here to score an Exceeds Expectations grade."

Everyone took a breath, this project was going to be big, Hermione could see nearly everyone eyeing either herself or Seryy hopefully.

"Every two weeks, each pair will have to make a presentation on their progress. As for the topic of the project, since this particular cohort has performed above average compared to other years, I believe a treat is in order."

The silent excitement in the class grew even thicker as she said those words. Many had a good idea of where she was heading, they were even hoping for it.

"Since all of you have established a solid foundation in third year and OWLs are in next year, I believe that this year is the perfect opportunity for a little bit of higher syllabus experimentation. I believe that this is a good motivation for everyone to continue their Runes to the NEWTs. For this grand project, we delve into Active Runes."

There was an explosion of cheers at the announcement, Active Runes were probably what kept the students going. After all, they were the only practical application of runes aside from translation and essentially a form of assisted wandless magic. Their entirety of the OWLs were dedicated towards theory with no practical in the magical sense. Third year involved the learning the basic runic languages of Ogham, Elder Futhark and Younger Futhark and the magical meaning behind each isolated rune. Fourth year saw Egyptian and Sumerian runes thrown into the fray while they learn the interrelationships between different runes and their effects when combined. Fifth year would have snippets of more esoteric languages as well as the theoretical formulation of successful runic scripts that can be used magically.

It was only after their OWLs and into their NEWTs that all this would be turned into a practical application of magic in the form of Active Runes. Professor Babbling was taking them all straight into the NEWTs for a small taste of what to expect, hopefully to leave them hungry for more. Hermione couldn't deny the effectiveness of that plan, she was already craving for more from just the idea of applying Active Runes.

"Now remember," Professor Babbling said sternly. "These are Active Runes we will be dealing with and you are all still fourth-years, there will be no magical activation of any rune scripts you carve without my direct supervision. Yes, even you Ms Seryy."

Hermione turned, along with everyone, to face the girl at the back of the class who had an amused expression on her face.

"We would not be performing any large scale Active Runes, just miniature test models to show the concept. The theme for what Active Runes to use will be left to your choice. As for the pairings," Professor Babbling continued, taking out a scroll of parchment. "I have already decided them for all of you. Now, Terry Boot and Padma Patil... "

Professor Babbling began to read off the parchment, students eagerly listening to each assigned pairing until she came to a pair. "Hermione Granger and Anya Seryy."

This time, there was an explosion of outrage as the students instantly demanded that the two best students in Runes – one of whom was already proficient in Active Runes – should not be paired together on the basis of fairness. It took a while before Professor Babbling was able to calm the class down.

"Everyone, please, I have my reasons. Ms Seryy here is a Junior Champion in the Triwizard Tournament and will have to dedicate time in preparing for it. With that in mind, she may not be able to help much and would possibly be a burden – no offense, Ms Seryy – to take as a partner. By pairing her with the next best Runes student, Ms Granger, nobody who be severely disadvantaged. See? It all works out. Now, everyone please kindly move to seat with your partners, might as well build some rapport together."

The students seemed mollified by her explanation and began shuffling around the class to seat with their assigned partners. Hermione, feeling that the Slytherin would not bother herself with moving, collected her belongings and moved to sit with Seryy.

"So, we'll be together, huh?" Hermione chose to break the ice. The girl was normally silent, and seldom talked. Unlike Daphne Greengrass, the Ice Queen of Slytherin, her silence was not one of disdain and superiority, it was neutral and occasionally slightly amused, as though the happenings in Hogwarts were a child's play. All in all, though Seryy was strange, she seemed quite amiable unlike some Slytherins like Malfoy, so she might as well break the ice.

"It appears so," Seryy nodded, appraising her partner. She kept the whole affair short and professional, not that Hermione minded. "I do apologise beforehand if I become, as Professor Babbling mentioned, a burden."

"No, it's quite alright," Hermione dismissed, taking out her quill and parchment to begin talking down notes as Professor Babbling began listing out the path to take for the project and the recommended books to read up on. She chanced a glance at Seryy and nearly gasped in surprise.

The girl was using pen and paper, idly twirling the ballpoint in her fingers. Further inspection revealed the digital wristwatch on her left arm, numbers flashing in a loud declaration of being Muggle. A Muggleborn or Half-blood transferring here? Definitely uncanny, this was rare even for the Purebloods. Hermione felt like she should not ask but her curiosity always got the better of her.

"Do you happen to be Muggleborn?" She asked gently, hoping to subtly wheedle the information from her, unaware that the girl had been reading her body language.

To her surprise, Seryy cut straight to the chase. "I use a pen and paper because it's more convenient as a left hander, prevents all the unnecessary smudging. Muggle watch, because those are cheaper."

"Oh," that was all Hermione could manage as a response before asking further. "Don't the Slytherins bother you for being, I don't know, 'Muggle-ish'?"

"Couldn't be bothered," her replied was filled with mild amusement.

Definitely uncanny.

They kept an air of silence after that, focusing solely on the lesson. When the bell rang, Hermione quickly agreed on Tuesday and Thursday evenings in the library as their meeting plan. With that done, she left the classroom with a sigh. She was hoping for a chance to partner with some good Ravenclaw, but here she was stuck with a girl that seemed to be brimming with secrets. However, Hermione perked up when she realised her partner was already proficient in creating and activating Active Runes, she could possibly learn a lot from her.

XXXXX

Gunshots. Gunshots everywhere, the bright muzzle flash and the loud cracks. Accompanied by spells firing everywhere, green jets of light taking precedence over other spells. Everything was a wild blur and Anya did not know she was, but it felt familiar all the same.

There was a loud bloodcurdling shriek and Anya spun around to find a gaunt man leaping at her with a crazed look. He pinned her onto the ground, but she had already drawn her a knife, lodging it deep in his neck. Blood gushed out like a burst dam and the crimson fluid splattered all over her, staining her red. With a great heave, she pushed the limp body away and climbed onto her feet.

Anya looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Brick walls were everywhere, she was in an empty building. Or was it a street? She couldn't tell, it was too dark. However, what was easily discernible was the dead bodies all around her, some laid on the floor and some were standing. But all of them had the same glazed lifeless eyes staring at her hauntingly, blood trickling from various wounds on their bodies and pooling on the floor. Looking down at her hands, she saw the blood covering her hands, its coppery tang all too familiar. She wiping her hands on her pants, the only clothing left not heavily drenched in blood, hoping to remove some of the blood from her hands. But the blood stayed on her hands, unwilling to part with her. Anya frowned, wiping her hands again, but still the blood stayed. Pausing for a moment, Anya stared at her blood-soaked hands before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the Slytherin dorms, lying on her bed. She sat herself up and checked her watch – it was a habit of hers to keep wearing it – which told her that it was three in the morning. Looking past the bed drapes, she could see the sleeping figures of her dorm mates, Greengrass, Davis and Parkinson. Beyond them were the dead bodies around the room. Her breath almost hitched in her throat, but she forced herself to breath and stared into the eyes of the corpses. They had the same glazed lifeless eyes.

Breathe in, count to four. Hold, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Hold, count to four.

Anya looked down to her hands and they were coated in blood, as though her dream had clawed its way to reality. She clenched and unclenched her hands and she could feel the slick sensation of the blood rubbing against her fingers. The stench of blood and rotting bodies wafted through the air and the sharp metallic taste of blood filled the back of her throat. Anya stared at her hands for a minute before surveying the entire room and all its gore, refusing to flinch the slightest as though she challenging it. It was a familiar sight, and the drill had almost become a routine.

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.

Subconsciously, her hands were clenching and unclenching faster and faster before she rummaged through her trunk, fishing out a vial of orange liquid. The sight and feeling of an Invigoration Draught brought a sense of comfort to her, she brought it closer to her before she froze. Staring at the vial for several minutes, she placed the vial back to where she found it and settled back down onto her bed. With another blink of the eye, the gore and bodies faded from her sight, leaving only the slight tang of blood in her nose.

Not today, another time. You're at Hogwarts now, it's a new start. Listen to Nathaniel, stop drinking it.

Lying down, she stared listlessly at the ceiling of her bed before she heard soft footsteps approaching the door from outside and a very gentle twist of the doorknob. Anya grabbed her wand and shifted to face the door, closing her eyes as much as possible while being able to see. She considered grabbing her pistol, but there was a possibility that whoever was entering the room was not a threat. There was not point risking the secret of her bringing firearms to Hogwarts, she could always make a grab for it if needed.

The door opened to reveal two man with their wands drawn, Anya did not recognise them. They looked around the dorm room for a moment before heading over to Anya's bed. Through the cracks between her eyelids, Anya saw one of the two men point his wand at her. As she saw the cords of magic gather at the tip of the man's wand, she acted without hesitation. Twisting her body, she lashed out a leg to kick his arm away, sending the spell firing at the ceiling of the room instead of her. Before the man could let out a sound of surprise, she pointed her wand straight at him and shot a Stunner straight at his chest, she would interrogate him later.

"Protego!" she cried out as the other man shot a spell at her, the spell bouncing off her Shield Charm harmlessly. The spell ricocheted off the charm and landed at a mirror, shattering it in a shower of blue sparks. The noise had been enough to awaken the other slumbering girls in the room, who all woke up to the sight of Anya casting a Severing Charm. The man dove out of her line of fire at the last second and the spell connected with a bookshelf, slicing it in half and sending parchment flying everywhere. This prompted the other girls in her dorm to scream in fright and panic, scrambling off their beds and making a beeline for either cover or exit. Anya paid them no heed, shoving her nightstand towards the man. The nightstand absorbed another spell which cracking under the impact, and smashed onto the chest of the person. Anya seized the opportunity, sending a Disarming Spell at the man and snatching the wand mid-air.

"Incarcerous." Ropes flew out from the tip of her wand, binding the person tightly. Calmly making her way over to the person, Anya halted when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ms Seryy, do refrain yourself from injuring one of the Tournament officials. It would cause a lot much trouble than you have already managed to cause."

Anya turned to the doorway to find her Head-of-House standing there with a frightened Tracey Davis hiding behind him.

XXXXX

Snape had been told by Dumbledore to keep an eye on the girl. He was not surprised, considering the argument that Dumbledore had put up, he even agreed with the old man that the girl was slightly suspicious. After all, she seemed to hold herself exceptionally well during combat, with reflex that Snape could say was on par with Aurors. If there was any more doubts to her suspicious nature, it had disappeared.

Standing at the doorway of the room, the sight that greeted him was an ugly one. Shattered mirror, glass shards on the floor and parchment all over the place. In a span of half a minute, the girl had rose havoc on the room and incapacitated the two Tournament officials sent to collect her for the Third Task, all this during three in the morning where she should have been asleep. Snape was very glad he had the foresight to place privacy wards on the dorm room. Had he not, the whole of Slytherin would have woken up to the sound of the fight and the combined screams of the Davis, Parkinson and the older Greengrass. He was also glad that he chose to accompany the two Tournament officials up to her dorm, being able to put a stop to the mess before it descended into further chaos.

"Tournament officials?" a look of confusion on her face.

"Yes, Ms Seryy. Tournament officials," Snape repeated, gesturing to the two man lying on the floor. "There were sent here to collect you for the Third Task. It was meant to be a surprise for all the champions, them waking up to find themselves already in the Third Task."

"Oh, I thought they were intruders," came the girl's simple response, finally lowering her wand.

"Clearly you did," said Snape, moving over to revive the stunned official while Anya handed the wand back to the other official. "But apparently, some things can't be helped."

The girl looked a little sheepish at the mess she had created, muttering a quick sorry to the disgruntled Tournament officials. One of them sighed and pulled out a vial from his robes, handing them to Anya while the other proceeded to cleaned up the mess that had been created.

"What's is?" Anya asked, taking a cautious sniff at the potion.

"Sleeping potion," the man grunted. "This was the backup plan, because… you know, this happened. No worries, you'll only be sleeping for another few hours."

Anya laughed weakly, drinking down the vial in a swig. She laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes, slowing drifting away into a deep slumber.

"Much bigger mess than what everyone would have expected," the one who had just cleaned up the mess commented.

"Agreed," the other one nodded before turning to Snape. "Well, Professor Snape, we thank you for your assistance. If you weren't here, one of us would have been hurt badly."

"Just hurry up and be done with this," Snape replied irritably. "I have better things to do."

"The same here."

With that, they levitated the sleeping Anya and left the room while one of them stayed behind to inform that the other girls not to leak this incident out.

XXXXX

Anya woke up with a groan, feeling a little sore. As she took into account her surroundings, she understood why. She had been sleeping on the cold hard floor. With a loud yawn, she stood up and examined the situation. She remembered the previous night, or rather this morning, and knew that this was the Third Task. They had left her here in a standard Tournament tracksuit attire that the other champions had donned in the Second Task, her wand in one of the pockets. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by familiar stone walls. She was in the Hogwarts dungeons.