AN: Sorry for the long wait as I've been busy, working non-stop for 19 days on an undermanned team is a strain. Didn't have any time to write, rather, I just pass out on my bed the moment my face hits the pillow. An even bigger sorry as I'll be on a 13 days working spree when the weekend is over, which means zero writing opportunities.
As for the story, I think it's time to offer some clues as I think the previous chapter may have a been obscure.
MarvelDweeb: So if Chapter 26 was confusing for you, then don't worry, explanations coming up to hopefully clear things up.
LadyPhoenix68: You have a good point there, though I believe it will be a matter of who is more prepared.
As for Vergilius' storyline, it takes place during WW1, so that will answer some questions. I never stated it, but rather showed it. If you read the chapters he was featured in (22 & 26), you'll see all the references I made: zeppelin bombing, 'war to end all wars', Fritz being the nickname for German soldiers. His storyline might be a little 'out there', but trust me, his journey serves multiple purpose that will explain many things when it ties up with Harry and Anya's journey.
As for the first half of Chapter 26, it's basically the Russian's gathering pieces for their game. And if the character 'Leo' at the end of the part seemed like 'yo, wut'. Then I'll say that he was already introduced before, mentioned twice, though very offhandedly so it would be expected to forget that name.
First during Chapter 15, in the Red Square part with Nathaniel and Grey. Second during Chapter 21, where he was one of the names of the people with the authority to approve the St Helensworth operation, along with other names present in the Red Square part of Chapter 15. Make what you will of that information.
I have been and will be laying down clues at every step of this fic, and then building on those clues mentioned, though those clues will sometimes be very small. If I quote certain lines and information throughout the fic back to back purposely, I could have been giving big hints/spoilers. So if anyone of you would like to spoil yourself, happy hunting I guess :)
Chapter 27 - House Visit
Harry had a plan, he always had one when it came to Anne. The track record of his plans might be called shaky at best but he still had a plan. There had been enough restless nights featuring Cedric's dead body lying on the graveyard, his glassy eyes staring hauntingly at him. However, with Anne revealing her imminent departure when she got her OWLs, new nightmares began surfacing once every few nights. Not as often as those featuring Cedric, but still too often for his comfort.
He had no idea that it was even possible for a nightmare of Anne leaving to exist. The concept of it sounded too simple and plain to be considered a nightmare, but when it crept up into the realm of slumber it morphed into something that felt chillingly frightening.
Somehow, it always ended up as something dreadful. Not just her leaving but the people whom he had cared about leaving as well. Or maybe it wasn't just her leaving but her dying. Just like nightmares involving Cedric, Harry would find himself scrambling out of bed, drenched in sweat. Thankfully, there was an absence of feverish mutterings and occasional screaming. And even more thankfully, the Dursleys were all heavy sleepers.
The plan was simple, it sounded simple. Establish such a good relationship with Anne that she can be convinced to stay in Britain. Harry felt that it was much better for her to stay here in Britain. Towards the end of the fourth year, Harry had taken the time to scour the library for the magical history of Russia, much to Ron and Hermione's confusion. Civil war, political disputes, crimes and a bad international reputation that ended in widespread condemnation and sanctions. No, Russia was the last place he wanted Anne to be in, he would never forget the scars that littered her limbs. Her torso was covered but he was sure that the lithe body of hers bore more scars.
Anne came by another few times but she was busy. At least that was Harry's assumption given that she seldom picked up his calls. Currently, Harry was giving it another shot, walking down the streets of Little Whinging. The beeps of the Nokia in his hands went unanswered once more. Harry sighed as he shoved the phone into his pocket, he was tempted to throw it vent his frustration especially when he knew that it would not break from the impact.
Then again, he was still grateful that Anne visited, unlike others who would not bother replying to his letters. He was not mad at Anne, just frustrated that she could not visit him more often. It was therapeutic to spend time with her, she took much of the edge off him. Outside of Hogwarts and just with him, Harry found her a very different person. Quick to react with silent laughter and genuine smiles, her eyes showed more emotion that Harry had ever seen. It was much brighter and much better, a spark that seemed to dance animatedly in the emerald eyes that they shared.
Add that in with her wry sense of humour and Harry kept finding her more and more to be like the sibling he always wanted. She spent her visits hanging out with him on the streets, be it in the vicinity of Privet Drive or in the nearby town. Had it not been for her, the pent up anger and anxiety from Voldemort and the lack of information would have sent him flying into a rage at some point in the summer.
Harry absentmindedly moved his hand to feel the wand holster strapped to his belt. It had the weak Notice-Me-Not Charms to avert Muggle eyes and even a few Wizarding eyes - mainly the weak minded. It had become a pattern, as though he could feel Anne's presence from her gift. He had tried to form as good a relation as he could with Anne but progress had been slow. She had mentioned giving him a chance and she had lowered her guard when spending time with him unlike the start of the fourth year, but she was sometimes still too aloof, enigmatic and tight-lipped.
The sound of loud cackles and hollers broke Harry from his musings. His eyes flickered to the source of the disturbance to find Dudley strolling down the street with his gang. Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance, they were probably recounting their latest bout of bullying. He would never understand how Vernon and Petunia failed to notice these simple things. In fact, the teens of Number 4 Privet Drive were the most infamous in the neighborhood.
His fingers twitched slightly to the clasp of his holster, it was tempting. Harry figured Anne must have rubbed off on him because he found restraining himself not too difficult, simply opting to keep an eye from a distance.
She's a good influence in a way. So, you'd better be a good influence to her too.
Harry chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Watching Dudley and his gang separate for the evening, Harry decided to tail his cousin. Dudley was the indicator to his curfew and given that Vernon and Petunia were already mad at him for that cracking noise in the yard, it was best to not anger them too much. Going over to mock him seemed tempting as well, but once more he fought to refrain himself.
There you go, Sirius. Not even tempted, kept my nose clean, just like you said.
Harry supposed it was a little strange, following Dudley from a distance and just watching him silently. If there ever was a time to be called a freak. Then again, the path they were on was the fastest path back home. Silence filled the air as he walked down the footpath, a silence which only grew more pronounced. Slowly, from the periphery, a creeping fog seemed to settle in.
The chill came much faster than the fog, and much more noticeable. Harry felt his gut plunge into icy waters. Only one thing he knew could have brought this sensation. Dementors.
Immediately, he drew his wand out. Casting his eyes around for the familiar hooded figures. Did Anne not say that he was under protection from a bodyguard at all times?
Harry waited desperately for a glowing figure of a patronus to pop out, but nothing came. Suddenly, Harry was hit with a realisation. The cracking sound he had heard before he left the house had indeed been the sound of Disapparition. His bodyguard had left him for other matters.
He took out his phone and the fingers flew into a pattern that ended with Anne's number. As Harry jammed the phone against his ear, began running towards Dudley. Thinking fast, he remembered a snippet of information Anne had given her.
"Dudley! Run to the house! Now!" Harry yelled, Anne had mentioned that the blood wards cast on the Dursleys were nearly impregnable. If they could just get within its influence, they should be safe.
Dudley was already shaking, feeling the effects of the Dementors' presence. He turned around to see Harry sprinting towards him with a wand and promptly panicked. Stumbling in his first steps, Dudley made his way to get as far away from Harry as possible, heading straight for one of the Dementors.
"Dudley, not there!" Harry hollered. "You're running straight towards it! Run back home!"
The beep of the phone signalling a lack of an answer sent Harry cursing under his breath. Anne could perform underage magic, he had seen it and having her coming here would have been beneficial. If only he could bypass the restriction as well, he would have casted a Patronus Charm in a heartbeat.
Having used the phone enough times, Harry swapped to send a text message to her, his fingers flying without visual supervision. Another Dementor was on his tail, he quickened his pace towards Dudley, hoping to drag him towards the direction of their house. He had no idea about the range of the blood wards but he hoped it was near.
'Dementors. Help.'
Glancing swiftly and the screen for confirmation, he sent the text and hoped for the best. A frantic wail rose through the air and Harry snapped back up to look at Dudley. The Dementor had pinned him onto the ground.
A chilling touch collided with his back and Harry fell onto the ground, rolling on the hard pavement to soften the impact. He looked up; a Dementor stared back. Blood wards were now out of the question.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The silvery stag that burst from his wand smashed against the chest of the Dementor. The Dementor reeled back, swooping away and the stag gave chase.
"The other one!" Harry ordered his patronus and the stag obliged, turning to focus on the Dementor that was inches away from clamping its maw on Dudley's gaping mouth.
The antlers of the stag caught the Dementor on its back, driving it away from Dudley and pinning it against the asphalt. The Dementor struggled as it clawed on the road surface before finally slipping out from the antlers' hold and flying away.
Harry let out a sigh of relief as the Dementor fled, his chest heaving as adrenaline still rushed through his blood. Dementors in Little Whinging, a shiver when down his spine at the thought. Making his way to Dudley, he tried to pick him up. Dudley gave him a weak shove.
"Stay away... don't... don't," Dudley mumbled incoherently.
The sound of footsteps brought the approach of Mrs Figg to his attention. He tried to hastily stow his wand back into his holster, but Mrs Figg's words caught him off guard.
"Don't keep that wand away, boy! What if there are more of them?"
His jaw dropped wide open as the cat-loving neighbour launched herself into a rant. Harry could vaguely catch the words 'duty', 'Mundungus', 'Dumbledore' and 'Dementors'. Anne had already told him about bodyguards keeping watch on him but Mrs Figg being one of them blew his mind wide open. She had been neighbours for as long as he could remember.
"You... you're a witch?" Harry gasped.
"Squib," Mrs Figg replied. "As Mundungus knows full well. Never transfigured so much as a teabag in my life."
"Why... why..."
"Couldn't have been too kind to you, Harry," Mrs Figg said apologetically. "The Dursleys wouldn't have let you over if that was the case."
"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore about the Dursleys?"
"I did. But Dumbledore insisted that the magical protection laid on your house was worth it," Mrs Figg explained. "'Better roughed up than dead', he said. Visiting the Dursleys wouldn't have helped either, it would have just made them more bitter."
"Didn't really work out now, did it?" Harry snorted, gesturing towards a trembling Dudley.
"Aye," Mrs Figg sighed. "Best get that lump up."
Harry tucked his arm beneath Dudley's armpits and heaved, struggling to lift him up. He got it eventually and he was glad that boxing had allowed Dudley to shed a good number of pounds. Slowly, they made their way towards Number 4 Privet Drive, Mrs Figg rambling throughout the entire journey. Halfway through, a man dressed in ragged clothing apparated in front of them.
"Eh, Figgy what happened to staying under cover?" the man slurred. Harry could make out the distinct smell of tobacco and alcohol. He recalled Anne's words of 'some mangy person in rags' and assumed him to be Mundungus, the one assigned to guard him.
"Dementors! You absolute fiend!" Mrs Figg screeched, smacking him with the umbrella in her hand. "Dementors right under your nose while you run off for some stolen cauldrons!"
Harry stared with a mixture of astonishment and shock. Mundungus certainly did not appear to be one with the prowess to cast a Patronus Charm. What would he have done? Maybe a quick Side-Along-Disapparition to ferry him to the safety of the blood wards at best.
"Alright! Alright!" Mundungus yelped, shielding himself from Mrs Figg's assault. "Someone needs to tell Dumbledore about this!"
"Yes, you go now," Mrs Figg snapped. "And I hope he punishes you to kingdom come!"
Mundungus pried himself from Mrs Figg's umbrella and spun on the spot, disapparating with the same cracking noise Harry had heard this afternoon.
"Come on, best hurry up," Mrs Figg urged Harry as he dragged Dudley along.
Harry sighed, of all the people to be assigned to guard him today, it had to be this Mundungus character. He knew for a fact that Dumbledore had assigned Aurors to guard him, three of them as far as he knew. Anne had told him on multiple occasions that she would not come because there was an Auror - or ex-Auror in one case - watching over him. Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. The fact that Anne knew the names of specifically the Magical Law Enforcement personnel was slightly disconcerting. Once more, Harry was quite sure that Anne was involved in a lot more than she let on.
After much effort on Harry's part, they reached the doorstep of the Dursleys. Harry cast another glance at his cousin. Dudley was white-faced and shaking, mumbling incoherently and still making futile attempts to push him away.
"Best that the Dursleys don't see me," said Mrs Figg. "You go on now."
With that, she turned and scuttled over to her house opposite the street, leaving Harry and Dudley alone. Steeling himself for the worst, Harry kept his wand and reached for the doorknob.
"Dudders... is that you? Dudders!" Petunia shrieked as she stumbled onto them. It was at that opportune moment that Dudley chose to empty his stomach, heaving out the remnants of his still-digesting junk food.
Harry released his hold on Dudley, not willing to come between him and a rushing Petunia. He stepped aside into a corner of the hall, trying to garner as little attention as possible.
"What happened?" Petunia asked frantically. "Did Mrs Polkiss put something foreign in your tea?"
Dudley opened and closed his mouth but only unintelligible blubbering came from his lips.
"Oh god! You've been mugged," Petunia said in terror. "Vernon, call the police! Hurry."
"No..." Dudley stuttered. "Not mugged..."
"Come on lad," Vernon knelt down to hold Dudley. "You can tell us."
Dudley raised a trembling finger and Harry knew he was in for it.
"Him."
Harry stiffened and braced for impact.
"BOY!" Vernon thundered. "GET OVER HERE!"
Harry sighed and made his way over, taking his own sweet time.
"What did you do to him?" Vernon growled.
"Nothing," Harry tried to explain. "It wasn't me-"
"Was," Dudley mumbled.
"Listen, I didn't-"
Harry's words were cut off as a screech owl swooped through a window, dropping a letter into Harry's hands before taking a hard turn and exit from the same window it entered from.
"OWLS!" Vernon roared in anger. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THEM IN THE HOUSE!"
Harry ignored his uncle, fumbling slightly as he opened the letter. He paled as he read the contents. Expulsion from Hogwarts for underage magic in the presence of a Muggle, along with an incoming Ministry representative to confiscate his wand as well as a disciplinary hearing.
The contents of the letter ran on repeat in his mind, Vernon and Petunia were still talking loudly and Dudley had another wave of vomit expelling from his guts. It was chaos for Harry and the second owl that swooped in only added more fuel to the fire, forcing Harry to retrieve the second letter amidst another fresh wave of anger from Vernon.
Harry
Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.
Arthur Weasley
"BOY! I want answers! NOW!" Vernon's holler brought Harry's attention back to the house.
"Yes?" Harry replied questioningly, trying to keep calm. Panic was the last thing he ought to be doing.
"Let's start with… WHAT THE HELL ARE ALL THOSE OWLS FOR?!"
"First one was from the Ministry of Magic, expelling me," Harry answered stiffly. "Second one was from my friend Ron's dad, who works at the Ministry."
"Ministry of Magic? Freaks like you with a ministry? In the government? This explains everything! No wonder the country's going to the dogs! And expelling you? What for?"
"For doing magic."
"Ah ha! So you admit it!"
"Only in self-defence," Harry scowled.
Suddenly, Harry's phone came to life and he picked up the call. The Dursleys stared at him suspiciously as he placed the phone against his ear.
"Well, I take it that you survived the encounter," Harry recognised Anya's voice as she spoke drily. "What's the situation?"
"The Ministry is after me for underage magic," Harry said the most pressing problem in his mind.
"Noted. The Dementors?"
"Gone."
"Am I still needed?"
"I don't even know what to do, the Ministry said they would be coming to confiscate my wand and then Mr Weasley told me something else and-"
"I'll be there shortly."
A beep followed and the call ended. Vernon puffed up, already fed up with the owls. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. The sound gave way to an eerie silence. Vernon and Petunia looked at each other tensely before the former gave a sharp nod, turning to the front door. He swung the door open and his massive frame prevented Harry from seeing the visitor, whether it was the Ministry, Anne, Dumbledore or someone else.
"What do you want?" Vernon grunted rudely.
"I have matters to deal with relating to one Harry James Potter," Anya voice sailed through the air. "Is he in?"
Harry held his breath, Anne said she would be coming shortly but this was fast.
"Are you with your freak ministry?" Vernon asked suspiciously. "You seem a little too young."
His statement was met with silence. Harry could imagine Anne's stare making Vernon feel uneasy. His imagination was probably spot on as Vernon gave way to her, as though backing out from an unspoken challenge.
With the lumbering frame moving out of the way, Harry could finally see his sister. Her green eyes darted around, taking note of her surroundings. She took a step into the house and slowly assessed its occupants. Her face was painted in an expression that screamed unimpressed. Taking the Dursleys into account, it was not surprising.
She was dressed in rugged clothing, cargo pants, combat boots and a dark grey jacket fully zipped up. Though out of place for a suburban neighbourhood, it was still completely Muggle, probably the reason Vernon had to ask if she was from the 'freak ministry' and even allowed her in.
"Anne! You came," Harry said weakly and Anya gave a nod in reply.
Apparently, the perceived familiarity did not bode well with Vernon.
"You're friends with him!?" Vernon roared, pointing at Harry and moving towards Anya angrily.
The girl was not fazed the slightest as she drew out a pistol from nowhere and released a round into the ceiling light. The soft crack of gunfire and shattering of glass sent Vernon stumbling back and Petunia screaming. Swiftly, Anya lowered her aim down to Vernon, her lazy and relaxed posture speaking volumes of her confidence.
"You know," said Anya softly, but there was a cold edge to her voice that left her words heard clearly. "The freak ministry doesn't care if you die from normal means, that's for the normal police to deal with. And normal police will never find a freak, much less catch one."
A silent chill descended over the house, one that even Harry felt. Threatening the Dursleys at gunpoint in cold blood was shocking, he knew she kept secrets but this? This opened up more questions as it always did with Anne.
"I take your silence as an understanding that I could kill you and get away with it?" Anya tilted her head slightly. "Good, now face that wall and arms against it, all of you."
"Listen here," Vernon growled, gathering up his courage. "You don't think-"
Another crack filled the air and the wall behind Vernon broke into spidery cracks, leaving a bleeding arm in its wake. Vernon's face paled as he stared dumbly at the wound, it was a shallow graze but the fact that the teenage girl shot him without a trace of emotion did more damage.
"That's right, I don't think, I act. The next one goes into your leg and we'll decide later where the following ones go."
Anya took a slight step forward lazily and the Dursleys - barring Dudley who was still suffering from the aftereffects of the dementor - rushed to comply with her instructions. They flushed against the wall with hands pushed against it. Harry stared in shock as Anya stepped forward to give both of them a pat down just like the police did in the television, keeping her pistol still aimed that Vernon.
"What... but... we did nothing wrong," Vernon barked fearfully. "It was that boy that did it."
Anya made no response, finishing her search before heading towards Harry. Something caught her eye as she stopped halfway, she altered her course to the cupboard under the stairs. Her wand snapped into her palm and she gave a quick swish, opening the cupboard door.
Harry shifted uneasily as Anya inspected his past living conditions, which still bore the signs that someone had once lived in it. He had mentioned his past to her a few times and was ashamed of it. From the side, Harry could see the Dursleys gaping at Anya. He was not sure if their gaping was guilt or just the fear of being caught for child abuse. Anya lifted her eyebrows, completely unamused. While turning back to Harry, she stopped halfway as she met Petunia's stare.
"Petunia Dursley?"
The woman in question nodded in fright and Harry saw Anya's eyebrows rise a little higher, as though questioning how she was related to the giraffe in front of her. Harry assumed she probably was doing just that.
"What's the situation?" Anya asked, facing Harry. "From the start."
"Two Dementors," said Harry. "They came after me and Dudley there."
"And how did you respond?"
"Patronus Charm."
"Good, I'm not even needed. Can't do that charm myself," Anya shrugged.
"You can't?" Harry knew it was a NEWT charm but Anne's performance at the Triwizard Tournament gave him an assumption.
"Dementors are local to Azkaban, Britain. Why do I even need to when I'm staying here for a short term?"
Harry once again grimaced at the casual statement of her leaving.
"Well, nice work there," Anya continued. "Even adult wizards have difficulty with it. After that?"
"The Ministry wants to bring me in for underage magic," Harry said lamely. "Expulsion and the confiscation of my wand, they'll be coming shortly."
"And...?" Anya asked expectantly.
"Mr Weasley told me to not do anymore underage magic and to not give up my wand," Harry replied. "They said Dumbledore is settling things."
"Best case scenario, I do nothing," Anya muttered to herself.
"So what do I do?" Harry asked, glad that there was someone from the magical world to provide answers.
"Listen to them," Anya answered. "Dumbledore still pulls weight in the British Ministry despite being kicked from his Ministry positions and he knows his laws, they'll do whatever damage control that needs to be done."
"And if the Ministry comes?" Harry asked incredulously, surprised that Anya told him to sit still and be a good boy as well.
Anya stared straight into his eyes.
"I'll deal with them."
Harry immediately averted his gaze, staring uncomfortably at the blank wall. Silence settled over the house once more and Anya settled herself on the dining room table, taking no heed of the Dursleys' growing discomfort.
There was no knocking of the door to signal the entrance of the Ministry. Rather, another owl flew through the window, much to the displeasure and anger of Vernon. Harry snatched the falling letter from the air and began reading. He heaved a sigh of relief, everything was pushed back to the disciplinary hearing, he still had a chance.
"News?" Anya asked.
"The Ministry got called off, I have to attend a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry."
"Smart move on them, the lion chased the deer to its den," Anya commented.
"What do you mean?"
"Who controls the Dementors?" Anya asked rhetorically.
"It could be Voldemort," Harry retorted.
"And do you still remember the letter I showed you earlier this summer?"
The letter that was an assasination contract with his name on it, intercepted from - according to Anne - the Ministry.
"Oh shit," Harry groaned. "I'm cornered."
Anya kept silent as Harry began making his way to his room, he needed to clear his head.
"And where are you going," Vernon growled. "I want answers."
Harry sighed in frustration, waving a lazy hand. "Fire away."
"What happened?"
"Dudley and I were on our way home, and then we were ambushed by two Dementors."
"And just what the hell are those?"
"They guard the wizard prison Azkaban."
There was a pin drop silence as everyone stared at Petunia Dursley, who had covered her mouth as though she uttered a bad word. Harry's head was reeling, Mrs Figg was one thing, Aunt Petunia was another. Why was everyone around him holding secrets?
"Sorry, I heard it from the awful boy, telling her about it years ago," Petunia explained.
"So what do they do?" Vernon asked, casting a worried glance at Dudley.
"Drain all the happiness from you, leaving you in despair and nausea," explained Harry, gesturing at the blabbering Dudley. "And if they Kiss you-"
"Kiss you?" Vernon echoed in disbelief.
"They suck the soul out from you," Harry continued past Vernon's interruption.
Both Dursleys gave a scream as they turned their attention back to Dudley, shaking him to see if he still had his soul intact.
"Dudders! Dudders! Are you alright?"
"He still has his soul," Harry said exasperatedly. "He wouldn't have been speaking if it was otherwise."
"Then why would these Dementoids be in Little Whinging?" Vernon asked. "You commited a crime, didn't you?"
"No," Harry retorted bluntly.
"It's you isn't it?" Vernon continued, narrowing his eyes and another wave of anger coursed through him. "You're the only freak here and they were coming after you. THAT'S IT! YOU ARE TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU ENDANGERING THIS FAMILY! OUT! OUT! OUT!"
Vernon's face slowly turned purple with anger as he made his way towards Harry, fist raised. There was a soft rustling and all eyes turned to Anya who was aiming her pistol between Vernon's eyes. Blood drained from Vernon's face as the purple receded to white, he had forgotten she was there.
"Your move."
Vernon froze on the spot, eyes flickering from Harry to her blank face and to the pistol. Slowly, he backed off, only for another owl to swoop into the house, dropping a bright red letter. Harry made to pick it up but Petunia beat him to it, snatching it away with deft hands.
"Well, go ahead, open it," said Harry. "It's a Howler, I'll hear what it says anyway."
"Petunia, don't open it," Vernon gasped. "It's dangerous."
"But it's even addressed to me, look," Petunia showed her husband the crimson letter, her name and address written on it.
"Just open it," Harry urged her.
But the letter had enough of Petunia's hesitance and promptly burst into flames, startling Petunia who gave a loud shriek.
"Remember my last, Petunia."
The booming voice echoed around the kitchen as Petunia seemed to sag on the spot.
"My last what?" Harry asked. "Who was that from?"
"Doesn't matter," Petunia snapped. "Just… just go to your room, please."
The last words came when she threw a glance at Anya, who still trained her pistol at Vernon.
"Are you in contact with the wizards?" Harry pressed.
"No," Petunia retorted, looking scandalised. "Just go to bed."
Harry looked at Anya who shrugged. "I'm not going to torture and interrogate them if that's what you're asking."
It was Harry's turn to look scandalised at her suggestion, he simply sighed and finally made his way to his room upstairs. Anya followed Harry up the stairs, and they entered his room. Harry cringed slightly at the state of his room. It was a cluttered mess, scraps of parchment littered the floor along with various books and knick-knacks. However, Anya seemed unperturbed by the state of disarray, simply taking a seat on his bed.
"Court hearing huh?" Anya wondered out loud. "I suppose you better be careful."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "As you said, the lion chased the deer to its den."
"Do you think it's safe?" Harry asked.
"They wouldn't do anything in public," Anya replied. "But I wouldn't say it's safe."
"Should I just... not go? Live out like Sirius? Convicts on the run?"
"You tell me if you ever decide that."
"Wait... why?"
Silence. Harry sighed.
"Thanks for coming," said Harry.
"I'm not," Anya chuckled. "Much like the first time, I came here to waste my time. Apparently I'm not even needed."
"Don't say that," Harry cracked a smile. "Shocking as it was, it was still a treat to see the Dursleys held at gunpoint. They're scared enough of Sirius coming here to assault them as it is, but you just ratcheted up that fear."
"Yeah, go ahead and tell them I work for Sirius," Anya gave a wry grin. "Paint him to be this criminal lord or something and then I'll leave a bullet casing at your uncle's workplace for him to find."
Harry laughed, the tension from the Ministry letters slowly easing off. "Merlin, that will send Vernon straight to the psychiatrist."
"He ought too," Anya snorted. "This entire family is dysfunctional. Can't believe that's my aunt, especially when you compare her to mother."
"I can't believe that myself on some days as well."
Anya stood up, looking out the window.
"I'd better get going," said Anya. "I'm sure Dumbledore is going to send a more competent bodyguard very soon. Probably 'Professor' Moody, and I wouldn't want to stick around."
"You can't stay?" Harry asking pleadingly.
Anya stared at Harry and Harry forced himself to meet her gaze.
"Fine," Anya relented. "But I'm booking out soon and at the first sign of 'safety for you and trouble for me', understood?"
Harry nodded as Anya drew her wand and pointed it at a coin in her palm. She muttered the Portkey Charm before giving the wand a few additional twists and flicks, as though altering the charm. Once done, she pocketed the coin.
"You have to teach me how to bypass the underage magic restriction," Harry said breathlessly at the casual use of magic. "It would have helped me a lot."
Anya simply tilted her head as she stared curiously at Harry, before giving a slight shake of her head.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked as Anya left the room.
"Kitchen," came her reply. "It's almost dinnertime."
"Wait," Harry gaped. "You can't just take food from them."
"Tell that to the pistol."
Harry slowly made his way downstairs where he saw Vernon and Petunia still fussing over Dudley. Anya had commandeered the kitchen, scouring the fridge and shelves for ingredients.
"Garlic, basil, parsley... dried, not fresh, but still fine," Harry could hear Anya murmur to herself as she set the ingredients on the kitchen top. "Olive oil, salt... where do they keep the spaghetti in this place?"
Harry turned to check on the Dursleys who were staring at Anya. Vernon was torn between fear and rage, but the pistol that lay beside the ingredients kept him from any outburst.
"Harry?" Anya's voice brought back his attention. "Where do they keep the spaghetti?"
"Huh? Oh right," said Harry before moving to open a shelf.
Years of being the Dursleys' slave meant that he had spent just as much time in the kitchen as Petunia. Petunia never trusted him with the meals for special occasions but breakfast had always been his responsibility, as well lunch when it was the summer.
"Thanks," Anya took the packet from Harry's hands, setting down the ingredients.
"You're actually cooking," Harry muttered in disbelief.
"Nothing too complicated," Anya shrugged. "If you have to live without adult supervision for extended periods, you learn."
Anya pushed a cutting board under him, giving him an expectant look.
"Slice the garlic, make them thin," Anya ordered, handing him a knife.
"I'm part of this?"
"Have you eaten?"
"You trust me to cook?"
"Aglio e olio. Simple dish," said Anya, fetching a bag of lettuce and baby spinach from the fridge, much to Petunia's soft whining protest. "You can't possibly screw up, especially when you cook better than me."
"How do you know I can even cook?" Harry asked in confusion.
Anya cast a pointed look at the cupboard under the stairs before turning her attention back to the fridge, this time to raid the cherry tomatoes that Petunia had bought this afternoon. Harry grumbled in defeat before attending to his assigned task. The two worked in silence, Anya occasionally gave an instruction and Harry would follow.
"How have you been?" Harry broke the silence, he was usually the one between the two of them.
"Fine," she replied, dicing the last of the cherry tomatoes and starting on the lettuce.
"Have you heard from Sirius?" Harry cracked up the stove, waiting for the garlic and olive oil to heat up.
"No."
"No?"
"I don't think he's feeling it," Anya mused, turning away from the lettuce to focus on the now cooked spaghetti, draining out the water.
"Why's that?" Harry obliged to her pointing finger and took over the lettuce, leaving her with the pan.
"Shame, I guess," Anya disturbed the garlic as the pan began to sizzle, adjusting the heat.
"Oh," Harry knew what she meant, Sirius messed up big by spilling her identity. The thought brought up another question, hopefully one Anya would actually answer. "How did Dumbledore make you end up in Russia?"
"Oh, you can read between the lines, not bad," Anya smirked.
"Just answer the question," Harry snorted.
Anya stared distantly at the pan, the garlic had just started browning. Harry could tell she was trying to make a choice.
"I was found abandoned on a bridge by my family," the words came out slowly from her lips. "Who brought me to raise me up in Russia."
Silence fell between the two once more as Harry stared in shock. The only sound was the loud sizzle when Anya added the spaghetti into the pan, tossing the pasta to incorporate the garlic infused oil and adding in the basil and parsley.
The nearby kitchen window cracked, then shattered.
"He left you?" Harry asked rhetorically, feeling a slow swirl of anger bubbling.
"Probably has his reasons," Anya shrugged, adding salt to the pasta. "Not complaining."
"He left you to die Anne," Harry spat exasperatedly. "How could you not be complaining?"
"But I didn't die," said Anya as though it explained everything.
"But he left you," Harry repeated, done with the lettuce and sorting them into the bowls Anya had laid.
"The feeling is mutual," Anya said casually as she turned off the heat.
Harry glared at her, unable to find the words to express his disbelief. Anya chose to ignore his glare, separating the pasta to two plates. Harry added the baby spinach and cherry tomatoes to finish the salad. A quick honey lemon dressing and their dinner was completed in fifteen minutes.
They ate their meal in silence, the Dursleys had long scurried out of the house to seek their dinner elsewhere. Harry chewed slowly, the food was nowhere near Hogwarts but it was good. Simple and tasty, just like Anne said. With nothing to do, his thoughts wandered over to Dumbledore.
Resentment, that was Harry's main emotion. Withholding information and denying contact had been tolerable, Dumbledore always had a reason. But abandoning Anne was crossing a line. Anne herself may have been fine with it but not him.
"Stop being so bitter," Anya interrupted his thoughts. "Ruins good food. Eat. You're like a human trafficking victim with all the skin and bones."
"Sorry that there's a lot going through my mind," Harry retorted waspishly. "It's just Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, they're all holding things from me. Everyone is doing that to me. Even you."
Once again he was met with silence, that had been the routine ever since he found out her identity. Silence and shrugs, try as he might, Anne kept being an enigma. Sighing, he chose to take another conversation, one that hopefully she was not against discussing.
"What do you think Voldemort is doing?"
"Beats me," Anya shrugged. "I would imagine him in a dark cave somewhere, plotting some kind of grand scheme."
"What kind of schemes? I haven't seen anything on the Daily Prophet."
"Then it's safe to assume said schemes are secretive enough to avoid public notice."
"That doesn't sound good... Anne?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you still be leaving Britain after your OWLs?"
"Of course."
"But Voldemort's back."
"Not my fight."
"He killed mom and dad."
Anya stared at her now empty plate, not meeting his eyes
"Everyone dies at some point."
"That's your response?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I should get going," Anya rose from her seat, heading for the door.
"Really? That soon?" said Harry, feeling worried that the topic might have chased her away.
"It's already night," Anya replied, checking her watch and nodding to herself.
Harry watched as she took out a coin and cast a Portkey Charm on it. She tossed the coin to Harry who caught it with ease.
"In the event you're in danger," Anya explained. "Just say the word 'trouble' and it'll send you to London, just outside Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side."
Harry nodded silently as he watched her leave the building giving her a wave which she returned. Once Anya was at the roadside, she vanished into the night.