Hi All,

Whatever you recognize belongs to Rowling, of course.

Uploads will be biweekly all through the summer, please fill the cube for notification!

The story is almost ready, so will be finished for sure! I'd like to thank those who had already signed up for this, you made my day. Many thanks for the reviews too, please keep them coming! :D

The Natural

Chapter 3.

(12 y.o.)

31st January to 1st September 1991.

January was cold. The castle was cold. It presented a whole range and varieties of different types of cold. The North-Eastern side tower was cold and drafty, and the dungeons were cold and damp, and Anne would have given a limb or a year of her life just to feel comfortable again.

Anne's letters to Rachel were filled out with meaningless facts about classes and homework and the repeated but noncommittal acknowledgment of her aunt's wish for her to study Muggle Maths and Science. Sometimes she tried to imagine when she could do that and quickly shook her head before frustration got the better of her.

Nothing seemed to help. There were no rugs under the bookcases in the library, nor a place for a first-year by the fire in the Common Room. No marshmallows or toasts to roast on the endless evenings, and no Milton, her cat, because she'd left him home to cheer up her mother.

Flying classes got cancelled because of the horrible snowstorms, so now Transfiguration and Astronomy were her two devils. She had a hard time adjusting to either, happy if sometimes she could scrape an E, and Caleb and Gavin kept pestering her to make time for learning together. She didn't even have an inkling about the possible requirements for OWLs.

Eventually, it all came down to her wish to escape the cold. On a particularly windy evening, Anne descended from her secret spot in the North-Eastern side tower close to tears when her hard-learnt warming charms wore off before she could finish her Transfiguration essay. She felt it was hardly worth an A, so she would probably receive an E – she knew by now that she always underestimated the value of her work. Still, this wasn't even remotely enough to make her tower comfortable in the foreseeable future!

She swore at McGonagall under her breath towards the dungeons and wished if the Professor, who could never explain something the way it stayed with her, ever got in Hell, it would be cold. Finally, the hidden staircase arrived on the fourth floor, and she peeked through the tapestry painted with a scene about Nimue entrapping Merlin in the cave. The corridor seemed empty and dark. She slipped out and beetled to the main staircase. The soft soles of her shoes didn't make a sound on the marble.

Anne had just left the second floor behind when her body froze in motion, and an irresistible power dragged her back to the floor. After a short but disgraceful flight, she landed on her bum under an armour. Her scream wasn't more than a gaping mouth because a silencing charm took her voice away.

"Here, now you can't say you're too busy to listen" – Gavin leaned above her. "Promise you will hear me out, and I will dismiss the spell."

Anne nodded, but her shock quickly transformed into anger.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?!" – She screamed at her brother as soon as she could. "You already told me how dumb you are. I cannot help it! I have my own problems, and I–"

Gavin grimaced and quickly replaced his charm.

"Who taught you lying?" – He remonstrated, sitting by her on the floor. "Listen, sis, I know this is unusual, but it's time you listen. I can't tell you this in the Common Room, but you have no idea what father told us when you went to see the Muggles."

Anne elbowed him and indicated with her hands he could dismiss his charm again.

"Nah, I dunno if I can trust you. It's hard enough without you yelling at me."

Anne pouted and put two of her fingers into her ears.

"Blimey! Here," – Gavin dismissed Silencio and tried to leave," – "are you happy now?"

Anne pulled him back.

"I won't yell," – she said.

Gavin sat back with a sigh.

"Well, I have no way to know that, have I?" – He hung his head. "Look, we were not very good brothers, I get that. I have no idea what made you believe we didn't want you, but I admit we had no idea what to make of you. That's only natural, and you have to agree…."

"Natural?" – Anne stared at him.

"Well, yeah. I mean… what were we supposed to do? You were a baby! Be quiet, or she will wake up! Play dull, or she gets hurt!" – He simpered. "When you seemed big enough not to break when poked, you were just reading or thinking about things you read."

"You're saying I'm dull."

"No!" – Gavin turned to her. "I'm saying I cannot know whether you are dull. Or anything about you, really."

Anne gaped at him, first hurt in her feelings, but then it seemed thoughtful to admit the fact.

"So you decided to kidnap me and make me sit on the stone floor because it was way too warm and cozy otherwise?"

"What?" – Gavin looked around and stood to offer a hand to help her up. Anne took it with astonishment. "Erm… is that why you're so grumpy? The cold?"

"I'm not grumpy."

"Girl, you're bloody grumpy, believe me. Caleb didn't even want to come, and he's braver than I am."

"So why did you risk it?"

Gavin turned his head away as if he wished to be somewhere else.

"You said I didn't want you," – he said softly. "I wanted to make sure you know that's bullshit." – He shrugged with unease and started them towards the main staircase. "Also, Caleb's better in classes than I am. You can't know, but father is not really in charge since he got this new job. Not anymore. When he became a member of the Wizengamot, all the old farts and hags sat on his neck."

"I heard him," – Anne silently admitted.

Gavin seemed astonished.

"You?"

"I couldn't sleep. You're supposed to hunt down the Malfoys, and I am to catch their heir." Anne sniffed with the cold, but it sounded like she wanted to cry. She shrugged, not to look weak. "All when Harry Potter comes to school to finish the Dark Lord's work. Aunt Rachel thinks I'm making it up."

"Blimey, you shouldn't have – Merlin, sis, you didn't tell it Rachel?!"

"It doesn't matter. She won't believe it anyway."

"You shouldn't. A-bee, they are – you know" – Gavin stopped on the staircase to lean closer, which was dangerous because it might have thought better and just turned the other direction, taking them for a goose chase around the castle.

"I know what they are!" Anne whispered, urging her brother to move on. "How can father let them do this to mum?"

Gavin jerked his head, astonished. "Mum? What's she to do with any of it?"

"Well, are they waiting for a dark lord or not? You know what she is … that's not about to change…."

This time Gavin sniffled, and it didn't seem as if by the cold.

"He explained that he wasn't his own man. Not anymore, and someone scammed him or what. Caleb gets it better. It just sucks so much!"

They sank into silence and got close to the Entrance Hall when Anne dared to ask: "And mum?"

It must have been a mistake because Gavin lost his patience.

"How the fuck should I know? I haven't even left the bloody school!"

Anne shivered. It all felt like a punch in the stomach and only made her feel even colder. She almost turned away, then spotted the teardrop sliding down Gavin's cheek before he angrily smudged it.

"Sorry, I–"

"Just don't mention to anyone that they are– you know. We haven't told a soul in five years!" – Gavin waved it off with a sigh.

"NO! Gods, how could I? Hestia keeps ranting about her sacred blood! I swear I learn more about the model pureblood witch than how to transform something into a bloody matchbox!"

Oddly, Gavin laughed at this, which made everything better.

"Sometimes I think that maybe it's just the cold. It all would be better if I wasn't cold all the time! Call me grumpy," – Anne pushed him on the shoulder.

Her brother started, then grinned at her widely.

"If that's your only problem," – he grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs opposite the dungeons. "Come!"

He chose a side corridor, ran ahead to a fruit piece on the wall, and tickled the pear. Anne never thought about the kitchen throughout these months, and its sheer size and the hundreds of house elves amazed her. Luckily, Gavin knew his way with them, and soon they had four bottles of butter beer shrunk to fit in their pockets. They found an empty classroom where Gavin conjured some practice pillows to sit comfortably, then went on resizing and opening the bottles.

The first sip gave back the warmth and comfort Anne so desperately craved, and she leaned back on the pillows with a sigh. She watched her brother playing with one of his cufflinks. After a while, it changed colour and pulsated in soft blue light.

"What are you doing?"

"Just a tracing charm,"- Gavin shrugged. "We spelled each other's buttons so we can signal if one of us gets into trouble. See, it's pulsing quicker as he's getting closer. It's also in my tie, but I hate to use that."

"But why would you need that?" – Anne gaped at him.

Gavin only snorted.

"Don't be daft! This is Slytherin, remember? If the bloody Gryffs don't curse us, someone else will."

"But–"

"Sis, it's just Caleb. We have enough beers, haven't we?"

"Yeah, I guess."

It felt strange. To have company. To peek into her brothers' life. It was everything she had kept lying about since practically the first day. That she had brothers who shared their secrets and that she wasn't alone. It didn't take long for Caleb to find them, and he did seem relieved when he learned they only had booze.

Then he swiftly sat on a pillow and brought up the OWLs. When the boys began to list their particular problems, Anne realized she could help indeed. She had many notes, silly tales, and other methods to link the background and various subjects. The Transfiguration charts were only one of those. Charms and Transfiguration theory filled with life when one approached them through the reason behind the spell inventions and the necessity for looking for new ways.

"I swear if someone told History of Magic this way, it might even be interesting," – Caleb cried out, swinging his butter beer in the bottle.

Both his siblings snickered.

"I wouldn't go that far," – Gavin managed to say.

"Well, actually–" – Anne tried to argue, but Caleb cut her:

"Great! We have our own tamed swot! Spill it, A-bee; you would even like HM, eh?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," – she mimicked Gavin with a giggle – "but actually, it's much better if you read it. Really, I think Binns is just a berk to conceal the fun he can't have!"

"What kind of fun, gal?" – Caleb straightened on the pillows. "You don't mean there's anything even remotely cool about the Goblin Revolution or the umpteenth War of the Giants!"

"Well, not like that, but…" – she gulped the butter beer as if it was water, and the warmth slowly melted her insides, loosening her tongue. "Say the goblins were all purebloods led by… Uncle Evan. Aaand then, if you replaced Gormain the Unfaithful with Mr. Mulciber or even Mr. Malfoy, you'd have Fredrick the Famished as the Head Auror, and the trap he made would sound surprisingly familiar, wouldn't it?"

The boys stared at her.

"And there's that thing with the Eraly Brotherhood that first wanted to give the legal justification for the hunt of the half-bred. It's like that strange berk who wanted to hunt Muggles just a few years ago, only in the sixteen hundreds those used to be non-human creatures. So he got dismissed with that show of poisoned arrows and darts or what… say, it happened now in the Wizengamot. What would you make of their quarrels? Because I wonder how dad would cope with beheaded Inferi if one wanted to make a point today," – she giggled until she realized she was the only one.

Gavin turned on his pillow to look at her closer.

"Wait a minute, that Brotherhood was second-year stuff! How do you know that?"

Anne shrugged.

"I told you it is funnier if you read it. I began with what he was talking about, but obviously, I read quicker than he talks."

"Good girl! We just have to make sure you read on!" Gavin grinned at Caleb, and he nodded with a smirk.

"I'm at the first third of the fourth-year stuff, just go and try to stop me!" Anne couldn't stop the giggles, and now Caleb was grinning too.

"Oh, that would be an obvious mistake, wouldn't it, Gavin?"

"Aye, that would be for sure! A-bee, you will do this, and I'll give you a butter beer for each lesson you hold us. Deal?"

This had his sister shriek: "I'm still just a firstie. I don't even know what I'm about!"

"You don't need to, sis!" – Caleb assured her. "Enough for me, and you'd get what you want."

It felt so good. Their presence, the sense of family, companionship, acknowledgement – it was a heady mix even without the butter beer, and absolutely new in every part of it.

"What do I want?" – She carefully asked back.

Caleb must have felt her change of mood because he leaned closer and asked in the softest voice:

"That's the Hell of it, isn't it? What do you want, A-bee? Tell us what you want!"

Anne swallowed with sudden trepidation. He cannot mean…. "Mum… I want mum safe. Someone should protect her if father can't. Uncle Evan was creepy. Do you remember him?"

Both her brothers nodded.

"He wasn't the only creep," – Caleb reminded.

"No," – Anne agreed. "I don't want my brothers to be creeps. But that's what they want, isn't it? That father was different, but we shouldn't be."

Caleb stared at her, then only gawked even more when Gavin moved and hugged their sister.

"She overheard father discussing that with the lot," – Gavin told him.

Caleb eyed them both, playing with the last of his butter beer at the bottom of his bottle.

"You do realize that if we make a promise like that, we all gonna' get in deep shite sooner or later?"

Anne swallowed hard, but her brother went on before she could phrase any answer: "It is also ironic that dad wanted us to do well on our OWLs so we could get on the good side of the oldies. And now we are to decide to do just the opposite to reach those OWLs. Can you even begin to understand how funny that is?"

A tear ran down Anne's face because it wasn't funny at all.

"A butterbeer will do," – she tried, but Caleb's eyes glittered with mischief.

"Well, sis, that's nice of you to say, but–" – he stood up and gently pulled out his wand. "I have no idea how to do this, so don't laugh" – he shrugged before he began:

"I, Caleb Montgomery Felix Rosier, hereby deny my broader family's claim for power through the purity of blood. I refuse to support those who hate the mother who birthed me, and I disown my relatives who threaten my father. And I hope to all gods that we won't ever regret this." – He finished with a lamely cracking voice.

Anne gaped at him and then at Gavin, who stood up, pushing his brother aside.

"Close your mouth, sis, you catch a fly" – he grinned. "We already discussed something like this" – he glanced at Caleb, who nodded. "What did you say again?" – Gavin joked, pulling his wand.

"I, Cygnus Gavin Mordred Rosier, hereby deny my distant relatives' claim for power through blood purity. I refuse to support those who hate the mother who gave me birth. I disown the relatives who dare to threaten my father. May we leg it if we should!" – He winked, and Caleb laughed.

Anne stood up despite both her brothers telling her it was unneeded.

"No, it's only fair…" – she shook her head and tried to stop her hand from trembling with her wand. "I, Annabella Euphemia Rosier," – she grimaced – "hereby deny the relatives who claim power by blood purity. I refuse to support anyone who hates the mother who gave me life or her kind. Likewise, I disown all relatives who dare to threaten my father. I wish to love you both every day of my life as I love you now!"

Gavin spectacularly gagged. "Eww, why did you have to spoil it?"

"No need to get sloppy, sis. See, it's not for girls!" – Caleb agreed.

Anne laughed at their protests and laughed even harder when Gavin acted as if he was projectile vomiting around the classroom.

"So what does it mean about father and the lot? Or the Malfoy brat, or the boy-who-fuckin'-lived?" – Gavin finally asked Caleb, finishing the pantomime.

"Sod them!" – Caleb sat back and had a good long swig of his bottle. "I'm worth as much as any pureblood prat, and that bloody Boy-Who-Lived should have died for good with his kin when the bloody Dark Lord kicked the bucket. I tell you, we wouldn't have a problem in the world!"

Gavin snorted, almost spitting his butterbeer which made Anne snigger even harder. Life didn't seem so confusing if she took it that way. They only looked up when they heard that menacingly melodic voice from the open door:

"Thank you, Mr. Rosier, for sharing your overly sentimental political views. Are you ready to stand for Minister of Magic, or should the world wait upon you passing some of your OWLs?" – Snape drawled, stalking into the classroom, kicking aside a pillow or two as he approached the first empty bottle rolling on the floor. It flew into his hand as he bent his finger.

Anne ducked behind her brother, but Gavin humped his shoulders too, and so did Caleb, with visible embarrassment. Professor Snape seemed surprised when he found a second empty bottle among the pillows, and he Evanesco-ed both before he looked at his charges challengingly.

"Accio bottles," – he said in a maddeningly even voice, and the last two bottles, an empty and one half-way-through, flew into his hands. "Isn't it charming to witness such a heart-warming family gathering? I bet all three of you enjoyed the evening. So sad you had no time for such a cozy scene for – how long? Oh, it must have been almost a month since the holidays ended! Such a shame Hogwarts is not about family and politics, or are those the same? Mr. Rosier, pray, share your views!"

Caleb bravely returned Snape's gaze but didn't answer. Snape's eyes narrowed with irritation.

"Mr. Rosier, cat got your tongue? And here I thought you drank yourself eloquent with four bottles of beer on a weeknight. Tut tut. And with a first-year in your presence! Did you share Mr. Rosier?"

"No, Sir."

Snape stepped closer, and his eyes bored into Caleb's.

"No, sir? Are you sure, Mr. Rosier? It is already after curfew, drinking in the castle, keeping a first-year up at night… Shall I take points for your transgressions, or would you rather have detention?"

Anne saw her brother's eyes widen with surprise. Hearing their Head of House deducting points from his own Slytherins was extremely rare. That made it so horrifying when she'd lost one point after Christmas. Caleb swallowed with difficulty.

"I would rather choose detention, sir."

"What a display of wisdom, Mr. Rosier! One day detention for each bottle," – Professor Snape almost whispered, "Surely, Mr. Filch will be glad to have your continuous assistance."

"Yes, Sir," – Caleb obviously hoped he could end the horrors by agreeing. Unfortunately, it didn't work out as he imagined.

"How ready you are to help him out! I dare say Mr. Gavin Rosier wouldn't fall behind you in eagerness. Would you, Mr. Rosier?" – He turned to Gavin.

Gavin swallowed but mimicked his brother's standing. "No, sir, I am not less eager."

"Good! Four days of detention with the groundkeeper and his every whim then. I am sure Hagrid has enough tasks even in wintertime."

Snape's gaze shifted towards Anne, and she felt that curious sensation again as if he could see the back of her skull. It was as dark and abandoned as always. However, this time she had some emotions that the butterbeer suggested she could share.

It was bold, to say the least, but her pride got the better of her. The tenderness and gratitude she felt for her brothers, the defiance because this evening was hers and no one could take it, maybe wouldn't have been worth it. However, she also felt something strangely akin to resolve and a newfound strength of finally committing herself to a life she was to live. Letting that feeling creep into that abandoned room at the back of her mind, showing it off to Snape, felt like flipping the bird.

When her Professor's eyes widened, she used his minute surprise and tried to peek through those closed windows to discern a reaction. Snape's glance flashed warningly. "Do I need to give detention to you also, Miss Rosier?"

That was not what she'd expected. How was anyone to answer something like that?

"I don't know, sir."

"You. Don't. Know." – Snape repeated slowly, his scrutiny returning and tickling her skull. Anne lost the courage to show anything any more and felt again that annoyance that didn't belong to her. Strangely, there was something else, too… curiosity? It faded too quickly to be sure. "Did you share in your brother's overindulging, Miss Rosier?"

Lying to Snape was bad form; Anne already knew that. But how to tell the truth if Caleb already lied?

"I cannot give you a passable answer for this question, sir."

Snape's eyes widened with surprise, and, unlike Anne, he could look at Caleb to contemplate her reply. Her attention was so affixed on her Professor's face that she could see the slight twitch of his lips for a fragment of a second before he bit into his inner cheeks, and she thought she could see him covering the smile lines at the corner of his eyes with grimly narrowing his eyes. The discovery was so astonishing that Anne had to bite back her smile – that was obviously a mistake. Snape rounded on her at that instant.

"In this case, Miss Rosier, it will be four weeks of detention, which you will spend with me. Take it as prevention."

Anne wasn't sure if she should cry or celebrate. She'd never had detention before, but she didn't need to go see Filch or the hairy groundskeeper!

"Yes, sir," – at least her voice trembled convincingly.

"Tomorrow at seven. Now back to your dormitories!" – Snape barked, and honestly, his command couldn't have been more welcomed. Even the boys were happy to oblige. Despite the repercussions, the cold became less biting in the coming weeks.

*/*/*

Dear Rachel,

There is good and less good news I want to tell you.

First, I know you're expecting to hear about my progress with Maths and Geography, but the library here can only offer Arithmancy texts which I doubt a Muggle school would call adequate. And you don't want to hear about Magical geography. (The ley lines seem interesting, but those belong to the Restricted Section, poor Madame Pince freaked out!)

I had to make a new schedule anyway because, as it happened, some people I know nicked some goods from the kitchen, and Professor Snape didn't like that. I was there, so I also got detention. It's good he didn't take any points. We may still get the House Cup. That's something I'm all on board with! (See, this is me socializing, I know it could go better, but you convinced me to try!)

Anyway. I can't do doubles on my homework in the notebooks because it seems I'm on cleaning duty in the Potion classrooms every weeknight, and on the weekends, I help Caleb and Gavin organize their notes for the OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Level exams at the end of the fifth year). But it isn't a problem because Madame Pince lets me into the library in the early mornings. I always enjoyed getting up early, and the library is always so peaceful! I love it. And I can do my homework then. (Also during the meals. If I give enough attention, I could get the theory down with a quick read. And no one minds it because it's kind of normal for many people. Third-years, fifth-years, and seventh-years never sit down without a book. Now I get why.)

The thing is, I found I really like working for Snape.

Of course, he did all his tricks that usually make people think he's the worst. I decided early that I won't fall for it and just didn't react. He demands long evenings, first days cleaning cauldrons, then cleaning all the classrooms, dusting, and the like. What he doesn't realize (or, by now, I think he does) is that I don't mind cleaning. It's just manual work. I can think about whatever I want. I learnt that from mum. She said she could even switch off sensing the time like this, and after a week, I'm pretty sure I can do the same!

But then it all turned into fun when he asked me to dust his pets. (He has a lot of plants and magical creatures on display in various preserving liquids.) At first, it seemed a little gross, but then I realized those are all rare ingredients for Potions. Some of them are really hard to find or even impossible to purchase, IT IS A GOLDMINE! Plus, if you look closer, they are also pretty. At first, I've only seen the creatures soaking inside bottles, then the light changed, and all the assorted liquids broke it differently with their different colour and consistency. When Snape had the fire burning a little taller, I could see all colours of a prism playing on his office's wall. I guess it's just like him. You think he's strange at first, but then there's beauty in the creepy… does that make sense?

Of course, I asked about the bottles, and he was rough like a rhinoceros. He did his best, really, called me names and such and told me all kinds of things about being a nosy little dunderhead and so. I swear I learned more insults inone evening than twelve years before! It got even worse the next time when he had me reorganize the cabinets. I offered him some alternatives (because really, I could do by the expiration date, the frequency of usage, the level of poisonousness, or by classwork. I noticed that different years have different needs), but he loves his alphabetic order. At last, he had a rare fit about "teaching him his job and being an insufferable blabbermouth." Mum would have been so happy to hear someone calling me that!

The best about it all was that I won! After a while, he probably grumbled enough, and he grudgingly answered. He even let me take some notes last evening. I can't wait to look his pets up in the library tomorrow! That's Professor Snape for you, Aunt Rachel. After he couldn't convince me about him being a total brute, he'd lost the battle by actually answering my questions, and I bet he knows it! I put one across Snape! I could dance like a savage!

He must sense it, too, because he switched to making me prepare ingredients tonight. There's nothing more to dust, I guess. This is the first time I've seen raw shrivelfig! I'm so looking forward to next Monday to carry on!

Sorry about the Muggle things!

Love,

Anne

*/*/*

She avoided mentioning that sometimes when Snape looked into her eyes, she sensed some traces of amusement and curiosity besides the ever-lingering annoyance and occasional pain. It was more than intriguing, and Anne wished she understood these gazing matches. However, that wasn't something she risked asking about.

After Rachel's reply, which was full of warnings about politeness and Muggle studies while she also couldn't escape acknowledging her good mood, which she found reassuring, Anne's next letter filled out with details of her detentions, calling them simply work. Which they were, basically.

Her first time seeing a shrivelfig was soon followed by getting to know a fireseed and then a tubeworm, which was exciting. Even if she admitted to herself, she could have happily lived a wholesome and contented life without ever touching the latter.

That week she also had to make saltwater with the right proportions. Now her summer practice came in handy, and Snape must have been satisfied with her attempt because he jumped on making her carve out beetle eyes without a word. After she understood the right method (the eye sockets must not get into the bottle because those shorten the expiration date) and carefully watched the Professor's hands as he showed her the new task, then she began slowly and got the hang of it her second evening.

Next came flobberworms. She needed to milk them for their mucus, tenderly pulling a feather on their skin again and again, then dripping the liquid into a jar. She understood if Snape had no time for that twice a month to refill the stores. Billywig sting slime was easier to collect. She just had to be always aware to avoid the sting itself. Not only because it would have hurt too much but also because those were valuable ingredients in their own rights. When she asked for an additional bowl to collect those separately, she booked her first clear win – Snape actually smiled (all right, maybe it was only a smirk) when he turned away after conjuring one for her! No wonder her questions didn't seem so tedious for him to reply to her from that day on. At least he grumbled less.

Anne made bulbadox juice for two upcoming classes, learned to orderly collect murtlap tentacles, and skinned jellyfish. She cut toad-toes, carved plimpy eyes, and never registered the time flying by until one day at seven, Professor Snape grumpily asked what she wanted knocking at his office door. When Anne happily replied she was to have detention, he only directed her to look at a calendar and shut the door in her face.

The worst was to be sure that after turning away from her, he smirked. Having a whole month spent in his proximity, getting to know a little above average of his moods, Anne was more than reasonably sure that Snape was happy about himself for avenging both of her pathetic wins. The bastard. At the same time, she had to return to her Common Room to find her brothers cutting revisions.

Caleb and Gavin worked tenaciously whenever their sister was present but got distracted when she was out of earshot. She found it annoying – at first, and then she thought it was endearing in a way. For the first time in her life, she could be sure someone needed her besides occasionally Rachel. However, Rachel got through the better part of her life without needing a confidante one-eighth of her age. The boys needed him doubtlessly, and it felt surprisingly good.

Anne created all kinds of tales about the potions they had to learn, which typically began with collecting and processing the ingredients, then brewing the potions. The antagonist of these stories usually made all the typical mistakes the book enlisted at this point, and the effect saved the day.

Similarly, she relied on her History of Magic readings to support the Charms theory with the stories about inventing the spells the boys had to memorize. They kept using her moving and flying charts for Transfiguration, and she supported her brothers by struggling beside them. While the boys crammed for the OWLs, she finished her essays, and they made her practice her wand work with them. It showed slowly in her classwork, too, even if she practised what the boys needed more than her homework. It was immaterial because it also eased her into using her wand outside Charm class. That no one mentioned her black wand ever since she bought it also helped.

They usually finished shortly after midnight, and with the early mornings she kept, Anne began to feel the exhaustion normally only the third-, fifth-, and seventh-years experienced. She tried to toughen up, but she was bone-tired by the end of April. When the boys went to Hogsmeade, she collapsed on her bed and slept through the day. During the Easter break, she admitted to Rachel via her next owl she wasn't good enough and refused to even discuss taking any exams of Muggle subjects. It hurt to disappoint, and it hurt much more than she expected. Caleb tried to sympathize, but he couldn't understand the matter, and Gavin told her to find a better hobby.

On the last they of the break, Anne found herself in the first-floor lavatory, crying, although she didn't quite understand why.

"Hey, who's in there?" – a girl's voice followed a short knock on the door.

Anne started. She didn't mean to complain; it only felt good to pity herself.

"Just a minute!"

She turned the seat down and hovered over it carefully just to make a show of using the loo as it was intended. And the next moment, she screamed with horror!

"Hey, what's happened? Are you all right?" – the insistent girl knocked again.

Anne didn't know what to reply.

"I don't know who you are, but you really sound like someone who needs help!"

Anne looked around and knew she couldn't say she was fine. That other girl already knew she wasn't, and maybe she… Anne peeked out to see who stood there and recognized the loser of Hufflepuff, whom most people bullied for her homesickness in the first months.

"Amelia?"

The girl's eyes widened. "D'you know who I am?"

"You're Amelia Fittleworth from Hufflepuff. We are in the same year."

Amelia nodded.

"Slytherin, are you?"

"Yes."

Amelia seemed hesitant. "Do you need me to call someone here? Sorry, I don't know your name, but if you need to talk to someone, I can–"

"Oh, NO!" – Anne shook her head even more horrified. The last thing she needed was this to reach the gossip mill… "Erm… I cannot go out…" – she began lamely.

"Oh…" - sounded Amelia's reply, and it gave Anne a queasy surge of insecurity. "Is that your first time?"

Anne hummed affirmatively behind the door.

"Your clothes… Are your clothes…"

"My clothes are fine," – she hurried to assure.

"Right." Amelia sounded surprisingly confident. "No problem. I already… Wait, I'll get what you need!"

She heard that the other girl turned and hurried away. Waiting was horrible, but Amelia soon returned and knocked on the door. "Here, do you know how to…?"

"I saw a drawing."

"Right. I'll wait here."

Anne spared a thought to praise the Hufflepuff loyalty and sheep mentality and did what she had to. It turned awkward again when she opened the door to wash her hands.

"I'm Anne. It's Annabella, but I prefer Anne."

"I'm all right with Amelia," - the Huff smiled. "Once, I read a book about a girl named Anne. I think it's a nice name."

"What book? I read a lot, maybe–"

Amelia hesitated. "Erm… it was a Muggle book, I don't think–"

"Slytherins can read Muggle books, you know, we all use the same twenty-six letters."

"Sorry," – Amelia let her eyes fall. "It was about an orphan. A girl who loved to read and found a place where she could be happy and-"

"Green Gables!" – Anne screamed, and Amelia squeaked with her.

It was simply impossible not to elaborate, and by the time they were out of the loo they were giggling like besties. It wasn't like Anne, but very much was like Amelia, as it turned out. She was ready with a laugh and could talk endlessly about all kinds of Muggle books. Time flew by until the OWLs now, studying with the boys and giggling with Amelia about what her brothers called 'girl stuff.' Anne sometimes struggled to recall what they were talking about and concluded that nothing at all. It was still the best time she'd ever had.

When Anne passed her end-of-year exams with flying marks, she only worried about her brothers' OWL results. One more month to go to receive that. Snape didn't make a big deal out of the end of the year. He only collected the second and fifth years and checked with them their chosen subjects for the coming school year, before the whole school loaded the Hogwarts Express and had a chatty way home.

Finding only their mother at King's Cross was a surprise. Thankfully she was prepared with a dress similar to a witch's robe, and she herded her children first to their relatives in London. Oddly, Anne didn't enjoy their time there because Aunt Rachel insisted on her taking the Muggle exams and kept pestering her with questions while the others had fun. By the time their father showed up to take everybody home via portkey, Anne reluctantly agreed to stay back and study. She was tired and grumpy about the additional chore but didn't want to disappoint her aunt again.

Two weeks passed with various revisions in Maths, Literature and Muggle Science. Rachel was strict and demanding. Eventually, Anne found herself in a public school trying to prove her knowledge and conceal being a witch. She felt her performance pathetic, but her aunt seemed cautiously hopeful.

Her results arrived in the same week as her brothers' OWLs. Both managed Exceeding Expectations of DADA, Charms, and Potions, Acceptables of Transfiguration, Astronomy, and Herbology, and Caleb scraped an Outstanding of CMC and Muggle Studies. Gavin only one of CMC, but it was still good. She was more proud of their achievements than her own in her Muggle exams – at least she passed them.

The boys were soon off to the Ministry and the Wizengamot to learn about their father's work and meet "wizards of importance," Anne was once again left to her various readings – magical and Muggle. The best was having a month with her mother and digging out her old records. At least, now she received frequent owls from friends, making her mother happy.

*/*/*

(unicorn flying around the margins)

My Dearest Friend,

Thank you for the birthday presents. (heart) I love them all! (heart, box with a bow, heart) Now begins our one and a half months period when we are the same age! I just love being twelve! (heart, sunglasses, heart, unicorn)

I completely share your sentiment about us being kin souls. (I got this sentence from the book, don't you think it's lovely?) It is so obvious I don't even understand how it didn't come to mind earlier! Oh, and about the muggle novels you mentioned, of course, that other Anne would surely like them! (Are you sure you are a Slytherin?) (birds laughing and flying around the line)

Especially the Treasure Island! Gods, Anne, I was so scared reading that blind man knocking on the door I almost fell off the swing! (pygmypuff acting startled) You will not laugh at me if I let you know I climbed into my sister's bed again last night… I'm so ashamed, I haven't done such things since I was seven! (pygmypuff turning scarlet from yellow and back again) So I returned to Daddy-Long-Legs for a time just until I calmed down.

Did I tell you? Our neighbours bought a pig two weeks ago. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I mean, it's the nineties, and we're not that remotely located! The smell is disgusting, but I awoke to strange squeaks and other noises this morning and found three piglets with the big and fearsome mama pig. (pink piggy running under the line) All too cute to describe! And it's not so terrible anymore. It reminded me of what you told me about Snape.

That man is nothing less abhorrent than that big frightening pig even if he smells good. But that's not much on balance, sorry, not for me. Then there are these little cuties, and I thought you might have felt the same when he agreed to teach you in your detentions. All those disgusting "pets" he has in those jars, and you talked about some of it as if they were interesting! I thought of it today. Maybe Snape made sense to you through those little pets he has around. Like I admit, I cannot hate that pig as much as I used to since the piglets are here. Would you say he finds his jar pets cute? It's so funny to imagine Snape would find anything cute. Do you think he knows the word? (pygmypuff, potions phial, pygmypuff, laughing birds flying around them)

Anyway, your idea to get into another detention with him is justsick! (golden unicorn fowl vomiting a rainbow) I tell you this with friendship and heartfelt worry for your sane mind: Please don't do it, Anne! It cannot worth it. Also, I will do you a favour and won't tell anyone you think you like him. It must be your heart going out for the disabled, for what else would you call his looks or manner? Even my sister fears him, and she was his NEWT! Although, for you, Slytherins, he might be different. Though you deny it. (startled little snake sitting on its tail with a question mark popping up above its head) I don't know, Anne. I am ready to investigate this with you, but NOT in detention!

I saw your brothers yesterday in Diagon Alley. Gavin really, really, really looked (heart, rainbow, golden unicorn fowl playing on the grass) – Oh, Anne, I have no words! And he said hello, unlike Caleb. (toad bowing his head in shame) Do you think he is the more polite of the two, or maybe just the better observer? Do you think he would like me one day?

When will you gather your school things? It would be fun to meet at Fortescue's!

Wishing you all the bests in the world (heart, rainbow, sunglasses, heart)

Amelia Fittleworth

PS: Don't you think my new signature looks just fine?

(the unicorn flying around the margins finally landed under the signature and began slowly grazing on the imaginary grass)

*/*/*

Hey, A-bee,

London is more fun on the non-wizarding side, and I swear I could kill myself there. It's so dull! So stop asking me about father's work and the Wisenfucknot, okay? The only worse is the Ministry of Maniacs and Phil performing his internship at the Department of Delusional Red Taping. One more word, and I vomit my opinion. JUST. DON'T. ASK!

I saw your idiotic friend some days back at Diagon Alley. I know you like her, but could you leash her? What about a muzzle? We had to run! Literary. Then we hid for half an hour behind Flourish and Blots till all passers-by forgot her embarrassing screams. Just imagine A-bee! She screamed our names!

Tone her down! Please?

Caleb asks the same.

We have no idea what else to write, but I think it's already longer than our last letter with this line added.

Gavin

Oh, I nearly forgot, I popped in on your darling aunt (yes, I guess mine, too), and she is not as bad as I thought. Caleb still won't come, but I guess I can see you there.

(Count these into the lines, sis, I did marvellous for you in this one!)

*/*/*

Hi Anne,

How's your holiday going? Any cute wiz around? I told Hestia she should be on the lookout instead of trying to be 'too perfect for pursuing' – it was such a laugh! She didn't read her books for two whole days!

Anyway, friendly reminder, you missed Lite again! – in case you didn't know. Little witch, you should do something about your parents, they might have forgotten what a traditional Slytherin witch owes to her peers, but we didn't—just saying.

So, you're nestled in your family estate, are you? Where is it? We talked about paying you a call. Unless you already moved on with that obscure aunt of yours to see the Continent. A Tour! - of course, you deserve it, girl, no envy here.

Just tell us when to see you, Urquhart went crazy and kept talking of Quidditch all month, but Miles would come with us too. Urquhart is BORING! so I won't even ask. Miles has some shooting with his uncle in a few days but otherwise comes by a lot.

Have fun,

Flora Carrow

*/*/*

Anne neatly folded all her letters and gazed out her brothers' window at the bright summer sky. Her time at home was nearing its end, and she tried to pack back all her brothers' upper-year textbooks to their places before leaving for Aunt Rachel and the last three weeks of Muggle-ing before her second year at Hogwarts.

She wondered what to reply with a grimace, but she was glad she had let the owls fly back empty-legged. She didn't believe Snape was anything like a gilt, had no idea what to tell Amelia to keep her away from Gavin, and had no desire to lie more about Rachel being a rich and sophisticated pureblood witch with an extensive circle of friends on the Continent.

She put Caleb's underused cauldron away, too, that one with a sigh, and returned to her mother in the downstairs living room. Their amusement without the boys and her father became playing muggle music all summer. Sara knew many old songs she never sang since she married, which Anne found hilarious and wonderful. Her record collection mostly was of the seventies, plus all the Beatles albums, of course, which she'd neatly packed away with music sheets for some of the songs. Now unearthed, Sara relearned to play them on her guitar, and Anne had fun singing with her. Talking with her mother was always a challenge, but this was better. It felt close enough and didn't leave a place for misunderstandings.

Only now, on her last day at home, Anne realized that she wouldn't hear any of these songs within a year. Hogwarts didn't have access to muggle electricity, and even a tape with batteries would discharge amidst the magic encompassing the school.

"I'll miss you, mum," – she whispered when she stopped playing, and although she never replied, Anne saw her eyes glittering above her warm smile. She was happy they finally found common ground again.

Rachel was all business the next day in London, but soon they managed to sidetrack her from the long shopping list and various tasks she had prepared for her niece. Sara escorted her daughter on the Muggle train, and they arrived shortly before lunch. This time they ate out the Muggle way, and Gavin joined them despite his avowing to die of boredom on the Muggle side. The group had fun playing tourist and listening to Sara and Rachel telling stories about life before they ever heard about the wizarding world.

Caleb only showed up early in the evening to take his mother home. After a long day following their father's schedule, he looked worn out and disillusioned (in the Muggle way) and refused to talk about his experiences. He promised to send Anne's school trunk after her by owl as soon as their father arrived home to shrink it. Gavin grumbled about the stupid rule that prevented them from using magic for one more year, and they portkeyed away with their mum, using a special Ministry permission, and leaving Anne to her muggle relatives to begin the endless reading, researching and arguing – all she and Rachel had as their own way of fun.

1st September came quicker than the Hogwarts train vrooms into the station. Anne put her still shrunken trunk in her pocket and joined her brothers at King's Cross. Their faces paled when they saw Amelia happily waving for their sister. Still, it was nothing compared to the Carrow sisters' disgust when a Hufflepuff tried to approach the Slytherin congregation on the platform.

Anne swallowed her embarrassment and subtly shook her head to Amelia, so she wouldn't come any closer while Anne tried to convince everyone about her great time "touring the continent with their aunt." Caleb only raised an eyebrow, but Gavin couldn't hold in the snickering, and Amelia turned away with her nose up in the sky.

Flora and Hestia finished all their stories before the witch with the refreshments appeared and waited for Anne to tell more about her summer – it was impossible. Even with her refined skills of making up tales, especially while she tried to escape their compartment to catch Amelia to make peace with her. Eventually, Hestia declared her the most boring witch in the country; Amelia turned back on the corridor when she saw her; she missed the buffet, and her brothers' compartment was full of sixth-years, so she couldn't fit in.

The year hasn't even begun, and it's already a catastrophe – Anne fumed to herself and flopped down on a seat next to Urquhart in silent devastation. Oddly, Malcolm couldn't let her sink into self-pity.

"Is that Huff bothering you? I can curse her brother" – he tried to begin in a friendly tone. "I would curse her for you, but my gran says I shouldn't curse girls unless they cursed first… Will you show me her brother? I'll make him a mess!"

Anne couldn't decide if to laugh at his clumsiness in his attempt to cheer her or be appalled by the offer.

"She has no brothers," – she finally said. "And I don't want you to curse her. She's a kind girl, and really, she just doesn't understand…."

"A Huff will never understand –" – Malcolm began, but Flora cut in:

"You don't need her," – she declared with finality. "You never need a Hufflepuff! Or anyone, really. Don't deceive yourself. She wasn't kind! There's no way another would be kind to a snake! We are alone, witchling; it's time you understand that!"

"It shouldn't be that way," – Anne whispered. "There are a lot who's curious… She kept telling in her letters she didn't know a thing about Slytherin, and she had a point. No one knows us…." – she went on more confidently, feeling the intense attention from her classmates until Miles Bletchley interrupted.

"Did she tell you she wanted to know us?" – his voice dripped with doubt.

"Well… no, not with these many words…" – Anne searched her memory to find something kind in Amelia's letters about her House. "She finds Snape interesting… like most… in a creepy way, I guess…."

"See? Nothing kind in that!" – Flora jumped on the word, but Hestia laughed:

"Snapey's creepy, that's true, be honest!"

"Well…" – most seemed hesitant until Vaisey spoke up with conviction: "They are not interested, they are just curious. It's a huge difference, I've learned that last year."

That odd feeling that surprised Anne reading that letter comparing Snape to a pig came back with intensity.

"No, he's not even... He's just… you know, Snape! But he's nothing like the things in his jars, and he's not that bad if you… if you…"

"Did she compare the Head of Slytherin House to poisonous dead plants and animals?" – Miles cried out, and Malcolm began cracking joints in his fingers menacingly.

"Well, not with so many words…" – Anne thought about that blasted pig again and wished she could complain without risking Amelia's wellbeing. She regretted now saying so much as a single word and wondered how things got here. "She did have something nice to say anyway… she thinks he smells good," – she finished lifting a shoulder, hoping against all hopes she could silence them, but only laughter erupted.

"WHAT?!" – Miles shouted, snickering so hard he almost rolled off the seat.

"The Huffs think Snape's smelling?" – Malcolm was ready to take offence at anything by now.

"No, the Huffs are just sniffing Snapey!" – Hestia cackled and sniffed the air about her enthusiastically for the greatest enjoyment of her sister and Miles, who threw themselves back on their seats, Flora soon weeping in her laughter.

"That's hilarious!" – She wheezed – "I heard all odd things told about good old Snapey, but to sniff him!" – Her jiggling filled the compartment.

Malcolm couldn't join in their cheer. "You're all fools if you think that's funny. Flora's right. People talk these things about him… about all the House…. And you're not ashamed to laugh as if it was funny… Nothing's funny about disgracing us… it's…" – his voice cracked with emotion, and Miles sobered up quickly, hearing his words.

"True, those oddest things you talk about are nasty at best. I don't care if he's creepy; he is our creep. I wonder what would happen if I sniffed McGonagall!"

"Let's start sniffing her then," – Flora proposed. "Or better, let's sniff Sprout. In front of the Huffs, at least she's smelly indeed!"

"Yuck, are you nuts?" – Hestia grimaced even by the thought – "There's no way in hell I sniff her after she spread dragon dung!"

"She always smells like dragon dung," – Malcolm observed.

"See, my point exactly," – Hestia nodded just when the compartment's door opened, and a bushy-haired, bucktoothed girl appeared in a signless robe.

* "Have you seen a toad? A boy called Neville has lost one,"* - she asked in an agitated prissy voice, not the least bothered by all inside were only staring at her.

"Good for him. Toads are lame," – Hestia answered with a shrug.

"But have you seen one?" – The girl insisted.

"Only since you entered," – Miles offered, and the Carrow sisters giggled until the door closed behind the girl.

"Wow, what does she think of herself?" – Hestia cried out – "Honestly, we knew our place better last year!"

"She'll certainly get into Hufflepuff. She's already sniffing!" – Flora giggled.

"Well, I hope she won't get sorted to us. She seems no better than Ismelda!"

"At least we got rid of her with the last NEWTs," – Miles agreed with Malcolm – "Not that the Gryffs didn't deserve the point-loss…."

"We should tell Gemma about the sniffing," – Malcolm lamented – "she could deduct some points…."

"Don't lose it, we don't want everyone talking about his smell… not that he smells" – Vaisey shook her head in confusion. "Anyway. If you called them out on sniffing Snape, the whole school would start snuffling around him, and we would have to deal with his moods!"

All agreed, and Anne couldn't help cautiously adding in the silence:

"By the way, I'm sure he smells good. He must have some odour-repelling charm placed on his robes because, after detentions, I was sometimes stinking of all those foul vapours, but have you noticed him like that just once?"

"No," – Hestia replied gloomily – "he only should do something about the hair so we wouldn't hear those bastards foul-mouthing him."

"Don't be an idiot. He does!" – Malcolm said with so much certainty that everyone turned to him, surprised. "Of course he does!" – He repeated – "My father's aunt has an apothecary down in Devon, and she uses that same oil to protect her hair when brewing. Have you ever seen him the same when he came to the Common Room in the evenings?"

All second-years were shaking their heads.

"Idiot little pricks!" – Flora fumed. "I say Huffs should be sport this year."

"Agreed!" – Miles cheered enthusiastically, "I bet we can get them! Also, we might have the Boy-Who-Lived in the House, and my uncle says he will surely get into Slytherin. Imagine the power that defeated You-Know-Who on our side!"

"Thanks. I did nothing else in the summer. My gran was all about him!" – Malcolm grimaced.

Anne kept to herself and tried not to worsen everything. To say she was unenthusiastic to meet the wonder-boy was the least. The only acquaintance she feared more was with the Malfoy heir, and sure, the young Malfoy would find his way into Slytherin's House as soon as the sorting came to "M."

She shivered with the worst premonitions.