Chapter 49 - Christmas Peace

"Here, you should eat more," Harry muttered, passing Anya the plate of roast lamb. The time they spent together during the summer and in the Hogwarts kitchen had allowed him to guess the dishes Anya favoured.

"Speak for yourself," Anya snorted.

Nonetheless, she accepted his offer with a small smile as Sirius continued asking Anya about her time in Hogwarts. Sirius had been eager to catch up with Harry's time in Hogwarts, doing his best to undo his years in Azkaban. It was endearing to see Sirius do the same for Anne, asking about her life as a Slytherin and discussing Ancient Runes. The Weasleys decided to give Sirius and Anya ample space, conversing among themselves. Even Hermione, who looked exceptionally tempted to add her part when Sirius and Anya had been conversing about Runes, stuck to chatting with Ginny.

"Hard to think of Charms being truly difficult with Professor Flitwick teaching us," Anya commented.

"Yeah, Professor Flitwick is one of the better professors in Hogwarts," Sirius nodded. "What about you, Harry? Are your Charms coming along fine?"

"Silencing Charms have been tricky but it's more or less alright," Harry replied.

It felt nice, the three of them talking with one another over dinner. He had enjoyed the time he spent with Sirius during the summer, but with Anne here, it was as if the picture in his head was finally complete. He had long acknowledged that his parents were dead, they were never coming back. But here it was, the closest thing to a 'family'.

"Here, you'd want these," Anya casually slid the plate of treacle tart in front of him as Mrs Weasley cleared the table and brought dessert.

"Thanks," Harry grinned.

When dinner came to a close, Sirius went upstairs, saying that he had to take care of Buckbeak. The Weasleys had dispersed and Harry soon found himself in the Black library with Anya. His sister had settled herself into a corner, casually browsing through the books. Harry sat next to her, occasionally grabbing a book for himself.

"Don't touch that one," Anya remarked as he reached for a stained leathery book. "It's jinxed."

Harry pulled his hand back, looking at Anya whose eyes had never left her book.

"How did you know?"

"There's a spell for that," Anya's wand now twirled in her fingers. "It's good to figure out magical signatures. After all, there's more to magical combat than duelling, people can cast trap spells and leave it there as a nasty surprise."

By then, Harry had found himself slightly numb to the fact that Anne knew so much about the grimmer side of the wizarding world. He made a mental note to learn about magical signatures before asking about the more obvious thing he noticed.

"You didn't need a wand," Harry remarked, being suspicious about that facet of Anne for a long time. He had first noticed it when he started learning the Fire Serpent Spell with her, but there had been many times where his sister was simply more in tune with magic.

Anya shrugged in response.

"What's it like?" Harry asked, voicing out his suspicions. "Being able to just feel magic?"

"Feel's the wrong word," Anya replied. "And it's like telling a blind person what sight is like."

"Point," Harry chuckled in understanding, glad he could solve one puzzle about his sister. "It's like trying to describe my visions and the scar pains to others."

"You get visions and your scar hurts?" Anya asked.

Her question came without the doubt and the suspicion he had frequently got from others when it came to his scar. She said it with such neutral curiosity that it felt like a fresh breath of air.

"Yeah, it's somehow linked to Voldemort," said Harry darkly. "At least that's what Dumbledore said."

"You see through his eyes?"

"Sometimes," Harry nodded. "And before this Christmas break, I saw through his snake. Which was why I left Hogwarts early. I mean… everyone tells me it's not the case, but it felt like I was possessed. How else could I see through his snake?"

Anya took her eyes off the book and stared at Harry, a hint of a frown on her eyebrows. It may have just been the trick of the light, but her right eye seemed to become more vivid than the left. Harry pieced the clues together, 'feel' had indeed been the wrong word. For once, he was getting answers, not the conjectures the adults had been giving him.

When he saw her eyes widening slightly before hardening, her gaze turning serious, his blood froze.

"Anything?" Harry asked desperately.

"I… here," Anya tapped her index finger gently against his scar. "Almost invisible, it's… not yours."

Harry froze at Anya's calm declaration.

Then Sirius, Hermione, they were all wrong. Voldemort was in his head, he was a danger to everyone. The feeling of being sick and tainted he experienced during the aftermath of his vision came back twice fold. Hearing it from Anne made everything so much worse.

"I… I shouldn't… I should have known. It felt so weird too, not just this time… but all of them. I was the snake, I was Voldemort. Half the time, I feel like I'm not in the right mind and I'm going crazy. Everybody is saying that it's normal because it's me and then they treat me as though I'm not… that I'm either some freak or a delicate piece of glass and-"

A comfortable warmth fell on his shoulder and Harry looked to see a conjured blanket settle over the both of them. It was only then that Harry realised that his body had been shaking, emotions pouring from his words.

"You're rambling," Anya muttered, bringing a hand under his head and pulling him over. "Just take a deep breath and look at the stars."

"I can't," Harry replied immediately. "You sensed… saw it yourself, Voldemort's inside me. I'm a danger."

"Doubt that," Anya snorted. "You can easily throw off an Imperius Curse, whatever Voldemort left on you is not a danger."

Harry's reply was cut off by the cool gaze from Anya, it was hard to blow up in her presence. He followed her words, forcing himself to release the breath he had been holding.

It was soothing, to just rest his head on Anya's shoulder and stare listlessly at the large window in the Black library. It was calm silence, disturbed only by the occasional rustling of a page as Anya continued reading. She did not say anything else, no motivational speeches or words of reassurance. However, Harry felt like she had communicated more in silence than others had with words.

"Sorry for being such a bother," Harry murmured.

"I could only imagine the headaches if we grew up normally," Anya grinned slightly.

"Have you ever wished for it?" Harry asked, looking at his sister's eyes. "Growing up normal?"

Anya took her eyes off the book on her lap and stared at the night sky.

"I think that's a dream that died a long time ago."

Harry brought his arm around Anya and squeezed, a mix of relief and sadness when she allowed herself to relax. A soft snort came from Anya as she looked behind them, noticing a disturbance he could not.

"Our godfather's such an ass," Anya muttered with a tinge of amusement, flicking her wand.

Two mugs of hot chocolate came flying towards them. Harry grabbed his mug and turned to look at the doorway, he swore he could hear a smug chuckle. The two of them drank in silence and Harry could slowly feel the weight of his eyelids overcome his consciousness. Next he knew, he felt naught but warmth.

XXXXX

October 1922

There was frantic pacing, Senior Auror Richard Bones sat in a couch he conjured, watching the men from the ICW pulling their hairs out. The contingent leaders of Poland and Romania looked exceptionally worried, Richard could understand, their countries were the closest to Russia after all. The Spanish and Italian leaders who oversaw the South were seething, they had lost the most men given that the Russian Reds had fought viciously to win back Crimea and control over the Black Sea.

It had been a nightmare, the tactics the Reds used had taken a turn for the worse as the war progressed. The bold operation the Reds commenced to seize Crimea back had been as bold as the operation the Spanish and Italian had executed to take Crimea in the first place. The manoeuvre was supposed to be impossible; they had secured the Ward Grids in Crimea, but the Reds had managed to infiltrate and take over key coastal strongholds overnight.

It shattered the ICW Ward Grid supremacy in the region and severed the supply lines to Spanish and Italian Hit Wizards, as well as their main route of entry and exit to Russia. It left them encircled and nearly decimated if it were not for the Romanian Aurors holding a stronghold along a narrow stretch of Dnieper River, providing a hole in the wall of Anti-Disapparition wards for a desperate escape.

"Sorry for the delay, I was held up. An assault took place on the Dnieper River," the tent flaps open to reveal the leader of the French contingent, speaking in crisp French.

Senior Auror Jean Maxime, Richard had always wondered which tosser had the idea to pair the British and French together. Surprisingly, he managed to work well with the French.

"How was it?" one of the pacing ICW members asked in French.

"Bad, we lose the Dnieper River with this," Jean sighed, sinking onto one of the empty chairs.

Richard grimaced, he could see which way the wind was blowing at this point. Despite the overwhelming might of the ICW, the Reds held firm and fought back. Richard knew the iCW could win, but just how many men had they lost? He remembered the proud proclamations on the Daily Prophet back home, he had even been one of the contributors.

However, the war had been drawn out too long to maintain support, public opinion over the expedition had plunged into an all-time low. Movement against the expedition had sprung up back home, with one of the Wizengamot members saying 'the situation in Russia should have never been a British concern and win or lose, we want our boys home by Christmas'. Richard could not fault them, he had been feeling homesick himself.

"The… the Supreme Mugwump has begun talks of a peace deal," one of the ICW wizards declared, eliciting mixed responses from everyone in the tent.

Personally, Richard was glad, he had grown weary of this war. Too many good men and women died, leaving the purpose of being in this cold, wretched land foggier each day. Two winters in Russia had been enough, he did not want to see through a third.

"So we're just packing up and leaving?" the leader of the Polish contingent burst out in disbelief, his French heavily accented.

"What else?" said Richard, speaking in fluent French. He had learnt the language since young as it had been the international language in both the WIzarding and Muggle world. Though he had heard that English had been slowly taking over in the Muggle world. "We are bleeding men everyday, the people back home have agreed that valuable lives are not worth throwing to waste in Russia."

He was not wrong, the initial tempo of the Russian Expedition had only lasted a season before slowing to a lethal crawl with lives continuously wasted. It was a source of constantly sleepless nights, fruitlessly trying to figure out the tricks the Reds had up their sleeves.

The Reds had been as expected in open combat, sheer grit making up for an inferior fighting strength. However, when it came to springing ambushes and assaulting strongholds, they had become death incarnate, so ruthlessly efficient that nearly none lived to tell the tale. If only the survivors could provide a solid base of information, they could have come up with new tactics to counter what appeared to be the Reds' trump card.

When Isander Greengrass had been unable to report anything substantial after being mangled from a Red ambush, Richard decided that they had been outdone.

"Do you not see?" said the Polish Auror. "If we do not nip this problem in the bud, we will come to regret it in decades to come. This is a threat which will grow and fester if we leave it be."

The man had a point, it was the initial premise of the expedition, and he was clearly worried that Wizarding Poland would be the first on this new Wizarding Russia's long list.

"Not if we are able to reach a satisfactory peace deal," the ICW member replied. "The delegates from your countries have all agreed to the plan, we need to pull out in a coordinated fashion to prevent these Red rebels from growing too complacent."

"And what would a coordinated fashion entail?" Jean asked.

"We would have to maintain our tempo, let them know we can outlast them. They should be the ones desperate for a peace deal. If we can set these circumstances, we will have the upper hand in the negotiating tables."

"And how would that reign in the Reds once we leave?" the Polish asked.

"Once an advantageous peace deal has been signed, the Wizarding World would switch to diplomacy. Keep them down, so to say."

Nobody voiced any objections, for there were none. They all wanted this horrendous affair over and the plan laid by the ICW sounded like the best. Richard sighed, he would have to bleed more of his men before they could all finally leave.

XXXXX

Sirius groaned as he tossed and turned, finally giving up on his attempt to fall asleep. Spending more than a decade locked in Azkaban had ruined any semblance of a proper sleep cycle. He climbed out of his bed, taking a moment to make sure Buckbeak was soundly sleeping. Satisfied, he left his bedroom, opting to check on his godchildren.

A smug grin graced his lips as he thought back to the mug of hot chocolates he made, giving himself a mental pat in the back. Entering the Black library, he froze. Harry was still sleeping, someone had conjured a pillowed and tucked him in. Anne, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. Sirius took a deep breath and exhaled, leaving the room. He did not think Anne would leave in the middle of the night.

"Sirius!? This is a pleasant surprise," Lily grinned widely as she opened the door.

"Well, I happened to be tasked to patrol Godric's Hollow today," Sirius shrugged, still in his Hit Wizard combat robes. "Now that my shift is over, I thought I'd swing by and visit."

"Sirius Orion Black sticking to his job and resisting the urge to visit for the whole day?" Lily gasped in mock surprise. "Somebody owl Minerva, she'd faint at the responsibility oozing out from this man."

"Shush you," Sirius chuckled, stepping into the house as Lily welcomed him.

"James is having fun with the kids in the living room."

"Padfoot? Is that you?" James hollered, the squeals of children growing louder as Sirius came closer to the living room.

"Spot on, Prongs," Sirius replied, entering the living room.

"On duty?" James grinned, noticing his attire. "Thank Merlin I didn't bring the kids out."

"Harsh," Sirius greeted his old friend. "And there's my two favourite godchildren."

He knelt down and stretched his arms wide open. Harry gave a delighted giggle and crawled forwards.

"Someone's glad to see you," James commented, watching as Sirius picked up his son.

"Prongs, it has been well established over the years that no one can resist me."

Sirius set his godson back down on the carpet and offered his arms to his goddaughter. Anne remained where she was, looking at her twin brother and then back to him. Only after several more seconds of coaxing did she finally move, crawling to his arms. However, the moment she was in his arms, she became just like her brother, squealing in laughter.

"She's a lot more careful and patient than her brother," Sirius tickled Anne's stomach, much to the little girl's joy.

"Yeah, she'd make a poor Marauder," James nodded.

"James, I don't want to hear you talking about our children being Marauders before they could even speak!"

"Sirius?"

The voice tore Sirius back down to reality, he blinked at the sight of Anne sitting on the kitchen countertop.

"Anne? I thought you left."

"That'd be quite rude to Harry," Anya murmured, hopping off the countertop.

"It's alright, you can stay," said Sirius, seeing that Anya was about to make herself scarce. "I was about to get something to drink, would you want anything?"

"Nothing in particular," Anya shrugged.

Sirius looked at his goddaughter, her face looked tired but her eyes were alert and sharp. Sighing, he firmly ushered Anya to an empty chair. She glanced at the offered chair wearily but took a seat nonetheless.

"Couldn't sleep?" Sirius asked casually, summoning a carton of milk and pouring a glass.

Anya shook her head, shifting slightly in her seat. Sirius placed the glass in front of Anya with a slight smile. His nose picked up a slight scent and he had to keep himself from frowning. It was the sharp smell of potions and it was emanating from Anya. Suddenly the dilated pupils and rapt alertness in her eyes made much more sense.

He headed for the liquor cabinet, he was going to need something slightly stronger than what he originally planned. Returning, with an empty tumbler and a bottle of firewhisky, Sirius sat beside Anya.

"Nightmares?" Sirius asked.

Anya looked at him blandly, a slight frown on her face.

"I have them all the time too," Sirius snorted. "The two of us wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't the case."

His goddaughter gave a nod of understanding and drained the glass of milk he gave him. Without preamble, she took the bottle of firewhisky, opening it with ease and filling up his tumbler. She poured a portion of the amber liquid in her glass as well, raising up her glass when she was done.

"Don't you go teaching Anne all the bad habits," Lily shook her head in amusement. "She will have to be Harry's voice of reason when they grow up and start getting into trouble. I swear, he's already tearing up the living room with the toy broomstick you've sent him."

"Lily, I doubt Anne's ever going to get into trouble," Sirius laughed. "Trust me, she'll be in Ravenclaw."

"Ah… yes, accurately gauging the intrinsic value of one-year-olds, that's the Padfoot I know."

Sirius had thought he was cool when he had been drinking as a minor, looking back it had been childishly comical. Here, there was nothing childish nor comical about the emotionless face on Anne, holding up a glass of firewhisky without the slightest tremble.

"I always thought you would end up in Ravenclaw," Sirius chuckled as he clinked his tumbler with Anya's glass.

"The Sorting Hat considered it," Anya shrugged, taking a long sip.

"I'm sure it did," Sirius smiled wistfully, bringing his tumbler to his lips.

They drank the rest of their firewhisky, and this time, Sirius offered to pour for the two of them. He chuckled, imagining the look on Molly's face if she ever stumbled in.

"Sorry about Mad-Eye," Sirius grunted, referring to her unpleasant welcome to the house. "Not how I would have wanted it to go, he was just being paranoid. The first war against Voldemort left a huge mark on him, a huge mark on all of us actually."

Anya nodded mutely, taking another drink of the firewhisky.

"What was it like?"

"Sorry?" said Sirius, not understanding the question.

"What was the war like?" Anya asked again, her eyes staring at his forearm.

Sirius glanced at his forearm, almost forgetting there had been a nearly faded scar there. He smiled on the inside, Anne was very perceptive.

"Heh, yeah, that was a curse from a Death Eater," Sirius rubbed his forearm. He never really told much of the war to Harry, there was still some innocence in the boy, though Sirius felt Harry was losing it everyday. The girl beside him now was so different, he had seen a great deal more than most of the current Order members, but he felt Anne might have seen just as much as him.

There would be no lost innocence in telling her about the war and the atrocities he had seen the Death Eaters commit.

"I'll share my stories if you're alright with sharing yours," Sirius grinned, lifting his tumbler of firewhisky. "Then we can both drink those memories away."

Anya stared down at her empty glass for a long while. Finally, she slid the glass in front of Sirius.

"Sure," came the one word reply, replied with a soft smile.

There she was. A bit more battered. A bit more cracked. But Sirius could still see some of that little girl he remembered all those years back.

XXXXX

December 1922

Vergilius watched from the sidelines as the ICW leader for the Russian Expedition met with the monocled leader of the Pervoro. He was not keen on revealing himself, he had already done his part in advising on how the negotiations should proceed and the best deal to earn out of it.

The 531st had been a resounding success, casualties had been minimal. Most of the deaths in the 531st came from tarot wizards and non-combat incidents, particularly from detonated ammunition due to too much magic being pumped in. Secretly, he had wished that the war lasted longer, there was still much room to refine and improve the new wizarding art of war. Furthermore, sapping out more of the other countries' Hit Wizards and Aurors would have sent the Wizarding World a stronger message to never trespass again.

However, seeing the grateful smiles on the leading Pervoro members signing the peace deal both parties had agreed on, Vergilius knew it was a good time to stop. The Reds had been exhausted, even with the 531st cleaving through ICW ranks. It was high time to recuperate and consolidate their gains, the Reds had barely had any time to actually govern Wizarding Russia. Additionally, they still had to deal with the Muggles, the Soviets they aligned themselves with had mostly finished up on their end as well. Their initial post-war interactions would set the tempo for the rest of their relationship, it was vital to strike the iron while it was hot.

A half-hearted round of applause signalled the end of the signing. Men from the ICW and Pervoro shook hands and gave strained smiles. It was a white peace, neither side had to pay reparations of any kind. Vergilius turned to one of his adjutants from the 531st and gave a nod, the adjutant walked away in reply to broadcast the news on the wizarding radio that had become familiar to everyone in the 531st.

The peace deal was signed, and outside of this room, the first to hear of it would not be the ICW nor the rest of the Pervoro. It would be the men of the 531st, stationed all around Russia, alerted to the latest change with just the flick of a few switches and presses of several buttons.

Vergilius grinned in satisfaction, the wizarding radio had been one of his better inventions. He could already envision it replacing the owls and Floo. But for now, he would be content with just celebrating Christmas in the new home he made himself.

XXXXX

Harry woke up, blinking several times before realising he had been sleeping on the floor of the Black library. The warmth and comfort of a thick blanket and pillow felt very nice as he chose to continue lying down. He looked around and suddenly realised Anne next to him, sitting inches away from his pillow. She was sleeping with her back against the wall, her head tilted to the side and eyes closed.

It was one of those rare moments that Harry got to see such serenity from his sister, the calm atmosphere together the night before and now gave him a taste of how life was supposed to be, how his family should have been. He moved to get up and Anya opened her eyes immediately, he was not surprised that she was such a light sleeper.

"Hey, good morning," Harry smiled.

Anya assessed her surroundings for a brief moment before meeting his eyes, a smile of her own tugging her lips.

"Morning."

"Come on," Harry extended his hand as he noticed the rays of sunrise filter through the windows. "Mrs Weasley would have cooked breakfast by now."

"Sure," Anya replied, accepting his hand.

She drew her wand and vanished the blanket and pillow. Harry frowned, remembering that she had been casting spells the night before as well. He tried to recall how she did that without the Ministry noticing, but as memories of a burning warehouse came to his mind, so did broken patches in his memories, appearing as nothing more than shattered glass.

"How are you getting away with casting underage magic?" Harry asked, exiting the Black library with Anya.

"It's very simple really, the Ministry can't detect it," Anya answered. "As long as there's another source of magic nearby, underage magic usually can't be picked up. That's why children from wizarding families can still use magic."

Anya had a point, he remembered how Fred and George invented the Ton-Tongue Toffee over the summer when they had been underage.

"So you're saying that if I cast a spell in Diagon Alley, I wouldn't get caught?"

"Nope," Anya shook her head.

"Why is underage magic illegal then?" Harry asked, completely baffled.

"So irresponsible children don't cast it in a place full of Muggles. Well… that's assuming children are the only irresponsible ones."

Harry nodded, filing that bit of information. As they neared the dining room, the smell of bacon hit the both of them. Nearly everyone was already seated and eating, the Weasleys greeted Harry and gave Anya nods of acknowledgement. Sirius was seated to the side, looking slightly tired.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, taking a seat next to his godfather.

"I'm fine," Sirius waved off his concern. "Just had a private Christmas celebration of my own, nothing a quick Pepper-Up can't fix."

Breakfast had been an enjoyable affair, Harry soaked in the hearty atmosphere as everyone chatted with each other. Anya had been mostly quiet, but that was fine with Harry as he fussed over her hesitance to eat.

"I'll need to leave," said Anya as they finished their breakfast.

"Really?" Harry winced slightly.

"Yeah, I do have things to do over the holidays," Anya patted his shoulder softly. "I'll go tell Sirius."

Harry sighed in disappointment, watching as Anya left to find Sirius. She returned shortly with Sirius behind her, Harry nodded in acceptance and went to the door, opening it for Anya.

"Have a good holiday," Sirius smiled genially. "Stay safe and if you ever need somewhere to go, my doors are open."

"Thanks," Anya nodded, standing at the doorstep.

Sirius stepped back for Harry to say his goodbyes and the two siblings were left looking at each other in silence. Anya broke the silence in seconds with a soft smile.

"There's really no need to look that sad."

Harry snorted, her words knocking off some of the gloom as he stepped forwards and drew her into a hug.

"I'll miss you… just… the first Christmas I ever got to spend with you will be the last as well."

"Harry, just because I'm heading back to Russia after my OWLs doesn't mean we won't see each other again."

Harry pulled back from his hug for a moment, taking a moment to process Anya's statement.

"Nothing's going to stop me from dropping by every now and then," Anya smiled, a genuine look on her face.

Harry gave a watery chuckle and hugged her again, enjoying the embrace.

"No need to get that emotional," Anya snorted softly, bringing an arm up to squeeze him.

"Thanks."

"Well, you are my brother after all," Anya pulled away from the hug. "See you when school starts."

"Wait," Harry blurted out, a memory - albeit a broken one - surfaced in his mind. "There's something… that night at the warehouse, can I tell Sirius about it? There are people fighting Voldemort who should know about it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Anya arched an eyebrow, a ghost of a grin on her face as she waved goodbye. "So feel free to do as you please."

Harry and Sirius waved back, both of them standing at the door as they watched Anya walk out into the empty street. Her body slowly faded away before vanishing into thin air, presumably done with the work of spells. Giving the empty street one last look, Harry smiled to himself before closing the door of Grimmauld Place, walking back to the living room to spend some time with Sirius.

He tried his best to recall the night at the warehouse, though he might not remember it, Harry was adamant that he must have said a similar plea to Anne. The fact that Anne left enough memories in his head to provide vital information, it left a fond smile on his face.

"Sirius, I'll need to tell you something," Harry turned to face his godfather. "It has to do with the Death Eaters."

"Anne's involved, I take it," Sirius sighed, leading Harry upstairs. "Come on, we'll talk about it in my room, I'll assume you'll want the privacy."

As they entered Sirius' room, they sat down on the edge of Sirius' bed.

"I followed Anne out of Hogwarts," Harry started.

"A trip to Hogsmeade?" Sirius asked.

"Frankly, I have know idea," Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "She cast some memory spell on me."

"Outside of Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, but the important thing is… you know the Russian criminal organisation that came in this summer?"

"The Black Mark, yeah."

"They're funding Voldemort and his Death Eaters, I followed Anne on a… raid of some sorts."

"Shit," Sirius' eyes widened. "I need to hear the rest of this."

XXXXX

It had been one of the best Christmases. Naturally, that meant that there had to be something which broke the festive cheer. In Harry's case, it came a week later in the form of Professor Snape, waiting for him in an empty dining room. The meeting with his second most disliked professor - Umbridge had kicked Snape from the throne - had been surprisingly quick. He supposed neither of them wanted to be in the presence of the other for long. The meeting had been boiled down to Snape's parting sentence.

"Occlumency lessons. Six o'clock, in my office. Monday evening."

He had opted to head to the Black library to figure out what Occlumency was beyond Snape's vague description. Reading the general description of Occlumency, he could understand why Dumbledore wanted him to learn it; the Headmaster had the same concerns as him after seeing through Voldemort's snake. Beyond that, all he learned was that it was very esoteric, the books in the Black library featuring only strange and dark methods which he seriously doubted would work. Asking Sirius had revealed that not even Hit Wizards had learned Occlumency, there were not enough people who knew Legilimency to warrant the skill being taught.

In fact, only certain units of Aurors and Unspeakables were taught Occlumency. With a deadend blocking his route, all Harry could do was to dread the upcoming lessons with Snape.

Thankfully, there was something Sirius had given him before he left for Hogwarts. It was a quick final farewell, Tonks had been ready to flag the Knight Bus and everyone's belongings had been packed. Sirius handed him a small pocket mirror with a small wink.

"Harry! It's time to go!" Mrs Weasley's yell came from the front door.

"One minute!" Harry replied before giving Sirius a quizzical look. "Mirror?"

"Two-way mirror," Sirius elaborated. "I have the other pair, James and I used them quite often back in Hogwarts to communicate whenever we were in separate detentions. If Snape gives you any trouble or if you need to speak to me, just say my name and I'll be there."

"Thanks," Harry grinned, giving his godfather a tight hug. "And… the thing about Anne I told you?"

"Oh, that. There's yet to be an Order meeting," Sirius sighed. "I'll just say it was my own handiwork. You know, sneaking out of Grimmauld Place and stretching my legs. I've already got my alibi."

"Won't the other Order members be…" Harry trailed off.

"Pissed? They would," Sirius gave a barking laugh. The laugh was replaced with a sober look as Sirius stated bluntly. "But I rather we get good information to the Order. Between me and my godchildren, I'd gladly take the heat. The worst the other members could do is criticise me. Merlin knows what they'd do if it was you and Anne at the end of the figurative wand."

XXXXX

Anya took off her jacket as she entered the apartment, making a beeline for her bedroom. Hanging the jacket on the doorknob, she flopped onto her bed and sighed. Old man Grey did not have much to comment, but there had been a knowing look in his eyes. Her disappearance was not appreciated.

Her hand idly went for the table beside her bed, grabbing the leatherbound book. She opened the cover and pulled out the note attached, reading it for yet another time.

Both of us never had much of it, so I thought it best to share what we still had.

A small snort escaped from her and Anya placed the note back, flipping the page. Pictures of James and Lily Potter greeted her, images of faces she could not remember as a baby. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she let out another sigh, closing the book and setting it aside.

Pulling herself back up, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she had a skillset to master. Destination. Determination. Deliberation. The excess thoughts would not be a helping hand.

"I think that's a dream that died a long time ago."