AN: Wow, more Spooky stuff. Anyways, I suppose here's where I do that thing where authors reply to reviews, experimenting around as an author fresh in the fanfic not be doing it often but I always read the reviews regardless.

JohnMonty: You're in luck with the Dumbledore part.

MyBeewing: Excellent deduction

Jyotsanaa: Anya's right eye has been fine ever since Grey and Nathaniel fixed it. It's just that overexertion of the eye takes a toll on her - imagine the effort in trying to see a Fidelius Charm - and certain strong magical presences can overwhelm her right eye's senses. Not sure what you meant by that question but I hope that answers it.

SammyBlueGA: Hey! You can't just put stuff like that in my mind, that's cheating :(

Chapter 23 – Crossing the Line

"How much longer?" a man asked nervously in Russian.

"Half an hour," a teenager replied, leaning back on the chair on the bridge of the container ship they were in. He took out a stick of cigarette, holding his hand over the cigarette and snapping his fingers. A small flame flickered over the tip of the cigarette, lighting it up.

The man looked around the ship, it was an old ship, long past it glory days. The interior of the bridge held the faint scent of mould and rot, the paint on the metal walls peeling in many places. A surly man stood at the helm, glancing at a nearby computer screen with irritation. With his rough jumper and woollen knit cap, he had the complete look of a normal seaman but the nervous man knew better, that person was a Spook.

He was the captain of the ship, but his boss has given him the order to listen to that surly man and that… child. No questions asked and no words spoken, that was the demand and he would find a nice bonus in addition to his paycheck. He had no idea who these people were but they were strange, he had seen the documents they held, they were probably government agents but they were so… eerie.

His eyes darted back to the flame that had just vanished. Magic, it had to be, there was no other explanation for the child conjuring fire with just a snap of the fingers. He had heard stories from his friends in the government, especially from one who used to be in the KGB. They were the strange operatives who could do the impossible, appearing and disappearing from anywhere and performing unnatural feats. If anything, the words of the surly man on the helm confirmed it.

"Dimitri, stop it," he barked. "You know just how unstable radars are under magical environment, use a lighter."

"Can't help it," the boy, Dimitri, shrugged. "Left it back home."

"Your own fault then."

"I know you love me," Dimitri smiled winningly. The nervous man shuddered, it was so unreal, he had a son the same age as the child… teenager, and yet here he was, partaking in what Chinkov could only presume to be a secret government operation.

Magical environment? Human experimentation, that had to be it. There was no other possible explanation, the Cold War had seen an arms race between their country and America, and this was likely one of the results. Yes, a super-soldier program, that had to be it.

"Chinkov, you look nervous," Dimitri stared at him, taking out a packet of cigarettes and handing it to him. "Take one, it will calm your nerves. Hell, I'll even light it for you."

"Uh… thanks and… no need, I have a lighter of my own," the nervous man, Chinkov, stammered, accepting the packet and taking out a stick.

"You sure?" Dimitri grinned, waving his fingers. "It's probably a nice show for you, you have never seen it before haven't you?"

Chinkov shook his head quickly, flinching back when Dimitri gave his finger a casual snap.

"Dimitri," the surly man barked once more. "You're scaring our guest."

Guest? They were on his ship for goodness sake.

"Fine, fine," Dimitri grumbled petulantly, leaning back on his seat once more. "I'm just bored."

"Bored?" the surly man snorted. "You just boarded this ship twenty minutes ago."

Twenty minutes ago? This ship had been en route from St Petersburg to Edinburgh for six days and this boy had only just boarded it. How? Chinkov had been diligent in checking the radar when they were reaching British waters, no vessel had come close to his ship.

A niggling voice spoke up from the back of his head. These people could do the impossible, they could appear, disappear and pass through walls, they were Spooks, ghosts among men. So of course he boarded just twenty minutes ago, the child could have boarded anytime he wanted. In that case, the man could have likely entered Britain anytime he wanted, so why did they need his ship? Cargo, that was likely the answer, they were moving cargo. But what?

Chinkov ploughed his mind through the various possibilities. A nuclear bomb? Oh gods no! That would start a new world war. Anxiously, he made his concerns known, he knew that his boss had given the instructions of no questions asked but he could not hold it in. At least if he knew they were starting a new war, he could send a quick call back home to his wife, telling them to pack their bags and take the fastest flight to a safe country. Switzerland was probably a good choice.

"Uh… what… what cargo are you… you people moving to Britain on my ship? I'm just a l-little curious."

The two Spooks looked at him and he held their gaze for seconds before averting them, unable to hold eye contacts with these people.

"Heh," the surly man snorted. "It's not a nuclear bomb, relax. And Switzerland isn't that cheap from what I've heard."

How? How? Just how? How did they just read his mind? He heard stories from the pubs with his friends – many of them in the government – especially that ex-KGB who was now a security consultant. These… Spooks... they could infiltrate, assassinate and impersonate at ease. And they could also read minds?

If that was the case, how had the Soviet Union not won the Cold War… unless… Oh gods! The Americans have their own super-soldiers too, haven't they? How else could the Soviet Union have lost if they had such an arsenal up their sleeves? Suddenly, not joining the army and intelligence service like he had wanted to as a youth seemed like a wise choice, he probably would not stand a chance against these men.

"Just people," said Dimitri, releasing a waft of tobacco and nicotine into the bridge, adding yet another flavour into the air.

"D-dead bodies?" Chinkov blanched, shaking slightly.

"No, they are alive," said the surly man. "But who they are, we cannot say. Could be slaves, diplomats, hell, we could be transporting a battalion of infantry for all we know."

"But…"

"No war will come from this, I can assure you that."

Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief, relaxing onto his seat. Now, he glanced suspiciously at the multitude of containers that his ship was holding, wondering which of them held the clandestine goods.

"And no word will leak from your mouth, can you assure me of that?"

"O-of course, sir," Chinkov nodded in fear. He took the job in marine logistics for its low mortality rate. If not, he would have joined the navy. He did not fancy dying just yet.

Silence settled uncomfortably in the bridge once more, at least, it was uncomfortable to Chinkov. From the looks of it, the surly man and the teenager appeared to be in their element, watching the bow of the ship lazily. However, Chinkov could see the contrast in their eyes, keen and sharp, surveying their surroundings with caution. Something was about to happen, Chinkov could feel it prickling down his neck.

"Five minutes and we will be reaching the British National Ward Grid," the surly man grunted. "Dimitri, are you ready?"

"Of course I am," Dimitri retorted. "That's my only fucking job here."

Chinkov simply could not contain his curiosity. National Ward Grid? Just what on earth is that?

"Uh… can I ask what a National Ward Grid is?"

"Yeah, you can," Dimitri nodded.

There was a moment of silence until Chinkov realised that Dimitri was playing with him.

"So… what is a National Ward Grid?"

Dimitri snapped his fingers and once more a small ball of amber flames danced in the air. Chinkov jerked back from the soft glow, eyes snapping to Dimitri in panic.

"Tell me," said Dimitri. "Just how do I do this?"

"M-magic?" Chinkov stammered.

"Correct," Dimitri nodded and Chinkov could swore his heart skipped a beat. Magic was real!

"And with that in mind," Dimitri explained. "A National Ward Grid is basically a country's nation-wide magical defence, detection and utility system. It takes advantage of the natural ley lines around a country and a highly intertwined infrastructure of rune stones set in key points around a country, all of these are linked together into what is essentially a National Ward Grid."

Chinkov prided himself in being a savvy man but most of the essential nouns in the boy's explanation made no sense. However, he could get the gist of it, regardless of how surreal it was.

"Is it… like a computer firewall for a country… but… magic?"

"That's one of its features," Dimitri nodded. "And that's the one that concerns us at the moment."

Chinkov gasped in shock, not only was magic existent in people but also in an entire country, but more importantly, they were trying to sneak pass this… National Ward Grid? If it was what Chinkov thought it was, getting caught meant dire consequences. It could possibly bring down the British armed forces down their necks – it was a national defence after all – and those… Spooks… if the British had their own.

"Are… are we safe?" Chinkov asked.

"Very," Dimitri grinned. "A National Ward Grid only tracks and detects entry via Apparition, Floo, Portkey and other forms of magical transportation, it turns a blind eye towards a fat ship running on heavy fuel oil."

Apparition, Floo, Portkey? Chinkov could only assume that these were the strange ways that allowed these Spooks to appear anywhere, well, it only made sense that there was a counter to it, like sonar against submarines. In that case, Chinkov slowly began to understand why they wanted to commandeer his ship, the British authorities would hardly suspect this. Not that it reassured him, the stakes were still high.

"Are there any risks?"

"Yes," said Dimitri. "The National Ward Grid could pick up some of the heavy magic we have in some of the containers."

Chinkov gulped, suddenly it did not sound very safe. Noticing his unease, Dimitri slapped his back and laughed.

"Relax, that's why I'm here," Dimitri grinned smugly.

"Dimitri," the surly barked. "Start the disruption."

Chinkov watched as the child drew out a stick of wood and began chanting in a language that sounded similar to Latin, twirling and waving the wood about. He chuckled nervously to himself, he was watching real magic. Magic was real, he was still trying to get his head around that fact. Around the room, he noticed various symbols around the walls glowing softly. Runes, he heard Dimitri mentioning them offhandedly when explaining the National Ward Grid, that had to be what they were.

The surly man took out a small circular device and looked at it. Chinkov could spy various dials spinning about but he could not make any sense out of them. The surly man glanced back at Dimitri and gave the teenager an approving nod and a thumbs up. They were probably safe, Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief although he had no idea what was going on, all he knew was that he was likely safe and that was all the reassurance he needed.

"What's going on?" Chinkov asked, the two Spooks had been gracious in answering his questions so far, it would not hurt to ask more.

"We're hiding from the National Ward Grid," the surly man replied curtly.

With a final swish of the wand, Dimitri kept his stick of wood, Chinkov could only assume that to be a wand, relying on the fairy tales he had heard as a kid. Dimitri raised his arms above his head and stretched, groaning in relief.

"You guys ought to use better runes for the disruption," Dimitri stated. "And I would have chosen Falmouth instead of Edinburgh to enter from. Cornwall is a much better entry point, the ward points are weaker there."

"You expect me to take one big loop to exploit a conflict in integration of ley lines?" the surly man snorted. "It will attract its own form of bad attention."

"May I ask why the National Ward Grid is weaker there?" Chinkov asked, already too invested in the topic.

"Simple," said Dimitri. "The Ministry considers Cornwall to be part of England. However, due to historical and cultural divides, which does affect ley lines, the Cornish ley lines are not de jure English and run separately like the Welsh and Scottish ley lines. Wales and Scotland have an independent Ward Grid each, but Cornwall is integrated into England's Ward Grid which is a problem because of the separate grouping of ley lines. This results in the wards in Cornwall being weaker because it's running on an incompatible system."

"Magic works like that?"

"Humans affect magic as much as magic affects humans. National and cultural identity is not just a concept, it has tangible presence when taking magic into account, especially for ley lines. That is why borders have a high significance. It's subtle, yes, but on the scale of a country it becomes noticeable."

"If that is the case," said Chinkov curiously. "What if you apply this logic to the countries in the Balkans? And Israel?"

Dimitri simply laughed. Chinkov got his answer.

The next hour was a silent affair, everyone on the bridge simply sat about and waited for their turn to dock at the port. Chinkov looked at the time, it was ten in the morning. They had the whole day. Chinkov called the port authorities on the VHF radio, and the clearance for docking was approved. Dimitri took out a radio and fiddled with the channels before pressing the push to talk button, speaking in English.

"Dimitri to Anya, do you hear me? Over."

"Anya to Dimitri, I hear you weak but readable. Over."

"Roger. We're about to dock, any threats or things to look out for? Over."

"Negative and negative. Should be smooth sailing for you. I'll be keeping watch. Over."

Chinkov knew enough of English to know that there was a receiving party on the port waiting for them. As the bulky ship swung into the mouth of the port in Leith, Chinkov kept an eye out at the buildings along the coastline. He knew there was definitely someone out there keeping an eye on his ship but he knew could not spot them, but he was trying nonetheless, more so for the sake of his mental health.

Soon, the tugboats from the port authority towed his ship in place and once his ship was berthed at the port, a lengthy process of checking the cargo manifest and recording down the logs in the system took place. The radio communications between him and the port authorities bounded through and fro, a sideways glance and Chinkov saw the surly man and Dimitri lounging on their seats, watching the trucks and the tugboats scurrying about on their daily activities.

"Anya to Dimitri, one team of customs officers with one sniffer dog moving to Penknife. One port authority police boat with a diving team approaching the starboard side of Penknife."

Once Chinkov heard that buzzing from the radio set in Dimitri's hands, the port authority called him as well. There would be a random inspection for contrabands on board his ship before the containers were unloaded. Penknife, that had to be the codename for his ship. Chinkov gulped audibly and looked out from the windows, true enough, there was a customs inspection team boarding his ship. Looking at the other side of the ship, he got to see several divers jumping into the waters, presumably to check for any contrabands attached to the undersides of the vessel. He turned to face the two Spooks who were unfazed by the situation, but they did stand up from their seats to view the inspection process.

"Noble to Watchmen, Confundus Charms and Imperious Curses on my signal," the surly man spoke out to no one in particular.

He turned to Dimitri and nodded, the boy simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Chinkov could feel a chilling sensation pass through his body as the air around him swirled with an unknown force.

"Now."

Chinkov watched in confusion as the customs officers and even the sniffer dog swayed on their spot momentarily before continuing their inspection. However, Chinkov realised that the customs officers were not doing their inspection properly at all, simply loitering about the deck of the ship without checking for anything. Looking back at the two Spooks in horror, he realised that this was their handiwork. No… Noble to Watchmen… there was a whole team of them on his ship and he did not realise them at all.

Shivering to himself, he watched as the customs officers completed their 'inspection' and his ship was cleared to unload. The crane began lifting out the containers from his ship and onto the piles on the port. Soon, a particular red container was lifted from the ship and the surly man once again spoke to no one in particular, by this point, Chinkov assumed that it was probably some form of high-tech or magical communication.

"Noble to all teams, Paper has left the Penknife."

Judging from the context of those words, Chinkov heaved a sigh of relief, his job was done. Turning to face the two Spooks, he found himself at the receiving end of Dimitri's wand. His face paled instantly as he looked at the emotionless eyes of the teenager in front of him.

"Obliviate."

XXXXX

Anya watched as the trailer truck carrying a red container left the port, the X-ray and Gamma-ray radiography scanners in the port were a nuisance. She was pretty sure the passive magic hovering in the surroundings had cost the port authorities hundreds of thousands of pounds in repair fees. She and a few other Spooks had to run around Obliviating and Confunding many of the customs officers when the X-ray machines began frying up from the magic radiating all around the container.

Turning back to the port and checking for anything that might possibly be forgotten, she picked up her Dragunov and slung it over her shoulders before activating a portkey. She appeared at the outskirts of Edinburgh, on a hill overlooking a village. She laid flat on her belly and took out her rifle, surveying the area with her scope. As expected the place was clear, there was no magical community nearby and as a result, the British DMLE had no reason to patrol there yet.

Twenty minutes and Anya could spot the very same truck making its way down the main road before taking a turn into the village. Somewhere on the road, the truck became enchanted because Anya could see the Muggle-Repelling wards in place on the truck and the container, the surrounding Muggles all avoided or took no notice of the errant vehicle.

The truck parked along the roadside and two people hopped out, heading to the tailgate of the container and opening them. From the container, a group of ragged and dirty men stepped out onto the road. Next to Anya, Dimitri appeared with a pop, apparating into place. Dimitri looked down at her prone form and immediately put on a cocky smile.

"Maybe next year you'll finally nail down Apparition," he jibed, nudging her shoulder with his foot.

"Maybe next year you'll finally reach a double digit IQ," Anya replied, still keeping her eye on the village.

Dimitri turned his attention to the trailer in the distance, taking out a pair of Omnioculars to view the scene. The group of ragged men had their attention on the two people who were addressing the former.

"I have to say, this is the most interesting use of convicts I have ever seen."

"Don't they all have a death sentence on them or something back in Russia?" Anya asked.

"We're pitting them against the British Aurors, it is a death sentence of its own."

"Think they will actually listen to the assigned liaisons down there?"

"Probably," Dimitri shrugged. "They may be scums, be a debt is a debt. Not only that, we made it seem like listening to the liaisons provides the best chance of survival they can get. After all, it's not often a 'criminal lord' is able to 'break you out of prison' in Russia."

"Anything to appease the British Ministry I guess," Anya muttered.

"Hey," Dimitri chuckled. "Our Ministry did present the Black Mark as a criminal syndicate, and here they are, real criminals, ripe for catching."

Anya checked the main road again for any intruders, there were none. Turning back to the group of people in the village, she could see the released convicts holding on to a length of rope before they disappeared. Portkey. That was her job done, grabbing Dimitri's hand, the two of them disapparated with a crack.

XXXXX

Rustling of parchment surrounded Dumbledore as the Order of the Phoenix concluded their meeting, schedules for the guarding of Harry and the Prophecy were settled and the assignments for each member were given. One by one, each of the members left the dirty, worn-down house that was number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Tom had been gathering his strength, trying to reach the capacity that he had once enjoyed during the peak of the first war.

Dementors, giants, werewolves and trolls, these innately dark and oppressed creatures would be at the top of Tom's list. And then, there was the incident at St Helensworth, initial reports among the Order members suggested that it was a Death Eater raid with Wizengamot member Stamford Jones as their target. However, the Russian Ministry's declaration of the Black Mark threw the idea of a Death Eater raid out the window.

And the timing of this was too much of a coincidence, just shortly after Voldemort's return comes a Russian criminal syndicate? Something was up, Severus' report from the Death Eaters have also hinted collusion between them and the Russian Ministry. If such a thing was the case, Dumbledore feared that Tom would attain a greater military and financial power than he had achieved in the first war.

Then there was Anya Seryy, or Anne Potter, her appearance and circumstance was too fishy. Applying for transfer shortly after the Quidditch World Cup attack, the Russians barging into British affairs after her first year in Britain. Add that on with the fact that she was missing from the Tournament during Voldemort's resurrection and that she had a skillset and possible training similar to Aurors.

Dumbledore sighed to himself and removed his half-moon glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. The girl was dark and as much as he hated to admit it, it was all his fault. Gellert Grindelwald, Tom Riddle and now Anne Potter. His life was plagued with mistakes regardless of what he tried to do and learn from. He showered Gellert with affection and fostered his ambition, giving him the drive to become the first dark lord of the century. He tried to learn from that and did the opposite with Tom, keeping the boy at arm's length and under a watchful eye when he was aware of his darker nature, pushing him into the dark for refuge.

And now with Anne, he knew he shouldn't have, he knew prophecies could be self-fulfilling, and yet he still fell into that trap. Hindsight was always clearer, the girl was never meant to be dark, and he made her so when he resorted to leaving her abandoned. If affection did not work and neither did its opposite, he had thought he could nip the problem in the bud, but he simply could not bring himself to curse the girl as a baby all those years back. In fact, he had to force himself not to look back when he had abandoned her.

Of course, if he had left Anne to stay with Harry, the prophecy might have pulled the strings of fate in another way, leaving her dark all the same. But as things stand, it was his fault.

Speaking of Anne Potter.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to the table, everyone had left except for Sirius. He was still at his seat, glaring at him as he stuck his legs up on the table, arms folded. Dumbledore sighed once more, knowing that this talk would come sooner or later, he had hoped it was later but he might as well get it done with quickly lest the bad feelings fester.

"Sirius, is there anything you wish to talk about?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes," said Sirius harshly. "Anne."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," said Dumbledore as he rubbed his glasses with his robes before putting them back on.

"I want an explanation and I have waited too long," Sirius snapped, putting his leg down and leaning forward to slam his palms on the table. "You owe me one. You owe Harry one. You owe her one."

"Rightfully so, Sirius," Dumbledore sighed. "I believe an appropriate drink will be recommended for this chat."

Sirius snorted, drawing his wand and summoning an old bottle of firewhisky. A flick of his wand and two tumblers appeared and the bottle began to pour a healthy amount of amber liquid into the tumblers. A push had one tumbler sliding across the table into Dumbledore's hand, Sirius picked his own tumbler up and took a sip.

"Where do you wish to begin?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why did you leave her?"

"Do you know why Voldemort seeks Harry's death?"

"A prophecy," Sirius answered. "The one we are guarding now, Voldemort knows a part of it and went after Harry. You told me, James and Lily about this years ago."

"But I never told you all of it, did I not?"

"Of course not, secrecy of vital information is important, especially in a war. I understand that, being a Hit Wizard in the first war taught me that."

"True," Dumbledore nodded. "But the prophecy did not just speak of Harry, it also mentioned Anne too."

Sirius kept quiet but narrowed his eyes, giving Dumbledore a small nod. Dumbledore took the cue to continue.

"Anne would turn dark. It is quite likely she already is."

Sirius took another sip, this one much bigger.

"Was she born dark?" Sirius spat angrily. "Or did she turn dark when she grew up in Russia because someone abandoned her?"

"A self-fulfilling prophecy, I know," said Dumbledore shamefully. "It was and still is my fault."

Sirius downed the rest of the firewhisky. Putting the tumbler back onto the table with a loud thump.

"Glad we agree on something, Dumbledore," said Sirius as he refilled his tumbler. "So what do you plan to do now? Get rid of her?"

Dumbledore kept quiet, drinking his own tumbler of firewhisky.

"You can't be serious," Sirius snarled, understanding Dumbledore's silence. "You made her become who she is and this is how you intend on cleaning up?"

"It's not that Sirius," said Dumbledore, draining down his tumbler of firewhisky. "It is because I cannot allow her to be with Harry."

"And why not!?" Sirius roared, standing up.

"The prophecy, she will risk turning Harry dark as well if they are together. We cannot afford him to turn dark as well, or else everything that we are fighting for will be for naught. The connection with Voldemort that Harry has already poses a risk."

"In case you haven't noticed," said Sirius. "The two have already been together for some time. And as far as I know, Harry has never changed."

"All the more we must mitigate this before anything happens," Dumbledore countered. "Voldemort cannot win and we need Harry for this. Sirius, I need you to do your part and keep the twins away from each other."

"No," Sirius shook his head vehemently. "I will not play your game here. They are my godchildren and do not think for one second that I will do such a thing. The war is important but being a godfather comes first, you do what you want, Dumbledore. I will continue to take care of them as I should have, whether or not that involves them being together."

"But if Harry turns dark- "

"Then we'll fight Voldemort the same as always, regardless of what Harry becomes."

"And Anne- "

"Is suffering only because of you, who cares if she is dark? Harry told me how they were in the Third Task. She is not a threat, in fact, I would bring her into the Order along with Harry if I could. Fuck, I would keep them out of all this if it was possible."

"She disappeared for Voldemort's resurrection and shortly after that, the Russian Ministry is now intervening. She could be colluding with Voldemort for all we know."

"Bullshit," Sirius shook his head. "We leave Anne out of this, this war only concerns Harry and Voldemort. I have it up to here distancing myself from Harry under your orders. I will not bother Anne, she's the line I will not cross. I've messed up with her and I'm paying back by giving her the breathing space she needs."

"Alright," Dumbledore sighed. "We agree to disagree then?"

"Not just that, you take steps to ensure her safety as you should have." Sirius drained down his tumbler once more. "You did that with Harry, although in my opinion, no amount of blood wards is worth the trade off of living with those people. You're going to ensure Anne's safety as well and you're going to do a better job than you did with Harry."

Dumbledore stared at Sirius, knowing there was no room for argument. He understood, everyone in the Order was invested in the war but everyone had their commitments. The Weasleys had their children, Tonks had her parents and Sirius had his godchildren. If he still had a family left, he would have placed them above the war. But he had none left, all he had left was his work and duty.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly before heading out to the door, leaving Grimmauld Place as well. Upon leaving the wards, he spun on the spot and disapparated to Hogsmeade and headed up the winding road that eventually led to Hogwarts. Reaching his office, he opened the cabinet that held all the files of every student. Taking out a folder labelled 'Seryy, Anya', he opened it and read through it once more.

Her grades were consistent and decent. He could not refer to exam scores due to her exemption from exams. The teacher reviews were either glowing or fine. No disciplinary issues, a clean record in fact. Dumbledore sighed, he could not find any reason to expel her, none that would be approved by the Hogwarts Board of Governors, especially with his popularity at an all-time low in the eyes of the Ministry. The fact that she became a Triwizard Junior Champion representing Hogwarts made it even more impossible, a fact further accentuated by her high scores during the Tournament.

If he could send her back to Russia or anywhere away from Harry, things would be fine. But as things stand, he would need to find a way to separate them. Dumbledore hated doing this to Anne, but he had to, for the sake of Harry and the countless lives at risk when war breaks out. Besides, for all of Wizarding Russia's bad reputation, Britain was about to become a much more dangerous place. Anne going back to Russia would keep her safe and it would be a step towards paying her back.

Anne and Harry would be safer that way.