This one is somewhat shorter, but this was a good place to end the chapter since it's more of a set-up chapter. Next chapter will be important and I won't have much time so it might take a small while, though not too long I hope. At the moment I have 53 reviews and since next chapter is the 20th, let's try to reach the 60. Just for shits and giggles. Please? And, wildflowers-and-sun, here's the POV you wanted :)

Anna had been avoiding talking about her illness to Draco -and all her other friends for that matter- for a few days now. To the point that they had abandoned trying to make her talk about it. She would tell them the truth when she was ready to face it herself, which was probably never.

She sighed, making Daphne turn to her momentarily before looking back to where they were going.

Everybody was in a hurry to get to DADA class. They'd heard a lot of fascinating rumors from the older years and everybody was curious as to how the famed ex-auror was going to give class. It would be unconventional, no doubt about it.

She and the Slytherins entered the classroom, not surprised to find the Griffindors already there, and took the remaining seats at the back of the class. It was fine with them, that way they wouldn't draw too much attention to themselves.

Anna had been looking forwards to this class too. She'd done research on Alastor Moody; read up on him and asked Uncle Lucius what he remembered, and she'd found more or less the same in all sources. He was paranoid, he despised the dark arts and all who practiced it. To the point that he'd had a huge argument with the Head of the Auror Office when he'd been working there because they'd allowed aurors to use the unforgivable curses, something which he'd found disgusting. He had apparently claimed that they couldn't stoop to the level of the 'scum' they were fighting. She admired his dedication, if nothing else.

As she say down she leafed through their DADA book. The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection. Interesting choice, she thought, though predictable. She'd read part of it in third year and found it to be... one sided on the whole dark magic versus light magic discussion. Left no room for open-mindedness, something that she thought was a huge mistake when teaching teenagers. If you filled their heads with prejudices from the beginning they'd never be able to think otherwise. An example was Draco. As much as she loved him, she had to admit that he was a prejudiced cunt when it came to muggleborns. She disliked them as much as he did, but she kept an open mind to then, open to whatever positive inventions they might contribute -if any.

She felt Moody approaching before she heard the clunking of his leg. The last few days she'd practiced a lot with focussing and fixing on his Dark Mark. Now, even with its... diminished state she could feel him well.

Then he entered, keeping his brown eye on his desk but his blue eye swivelling around.

"Put those away." He ordered, waving a hand dismissively.

The class did as he asked, thrumming with excitement.

Then he started taking attendance. His blue eye looked at each student when he called their name, staying a fraction of a second longer on Harry, Neville and her.

"Right then," He announced after calling out the last name. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

Seeing as everyone was paying attention, everyone made some move or another of confirmation.

"But you're behind -very behind- on dealing with curses." He growled. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with-"

"What, aren't you staying?" Weasley interrupted.

Moody stared at Ron with both eyes. There was complete silence for a few heartbeats as the professor stayed uncharacteristically still before his scarred face twisted into a smile. It made him look more frightening than before, which was quite a feat.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody mumbled, just loud enough for all to hear. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago... Yeah, I'm staying just one year. Special favour to Dumbledore. One year, then back to my quiet retirement." A choked laugh escaped him.

"Yeah, right." Draco scoffed under his breath. "Weasley had to stop him from cursing everything that moved a few days ago. Complete nutter."

Moody clapped his hands. "So, straight into it. Curses. They come in many lengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you the counter curses and leave it at that."

Anna almost groaned. She knew this already. She'd read her own book if she weren't so busy studying his every move.

"I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then." He continued. "But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful." While he was talking, he'd been writing something on his black board, something which none of them could make out since his penmanship was abysmal. His voice had been getting louder and quicker as he progressed. "You need to put that away, miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Everyone's heads turned to Lavender Brown, who'd been reading a magazine -Witch Weekly, most probably- under her desk. Anna had already figured he could see through his own head, but she hadn't thought he could also see through wood.

Lavender blushed and hurriedly put the magazine back in her bag. Moody continued as if he hadn't just stopped talking.

"So, do any of you know which curses are punishable by law?" His blue eye moved from one face to the other, barely pausing in between. Several hands had risen into the air, including Granger and Weasley's. Anna kept her hands clasped on her lap, though she sat up straighter. This was unexpected. This was interesting. If it was what she thought it was, at least.

Moody pointed at Ron and the redhead cleared his throat. "Er... My dad told me about one. The Imperious Curse... or something?"

The man was nodding, seemingly lost in thought for a second. "Yes." He mumbled before looking back up. "Yes, your father would know all about that one. Gave the Ministry quite a bit of trouble, the Imperious Curse."

He moved to a cabinet and opened it, reaching into the darkness to take out a large glass jar with three large spiders in it. As he moved it to his desk Anna couldn't help but gape slightly. It was what she'd thought but... it couldn't be. Barely anyone remembered it, but it was true; Alastor Moody had refused to use those curses when being attacked by Death Eaters. He'd almost gotten fired for it too, only it'd been hushed up. Only his superiors had known, not even Dumbledore, but Lucius had wormed it out of people. And... he wouldn't have a Dark Mark either, no way.

As she watched him place the spiders under curse after curse and move them about, controlling, torturing and killing them she couldn't help but let a satisfied smirk stretch her lips. Impostor.

Barty opened the door to his office and ushered the Longbottom boy out, grateful to be rid of the fat lump of lard. How a useless little mouse like him was not only a pure-blood, but the son of the Longbottom aurors who'd given him and the Lestranges so much trouble was beyond him. At least he wouldn't have to be in close proximity to the boy after this. It'd been more than a little fun to watch him struggle as he watched the spider being tortured -Barty knew exactly what passed through his mind- but since he was pretending to be a teacher he also had to pretend to be concerned afterwards. Merlin damn it.

As he watched the kid open the door to leave the classroom he saw him pause and look to the side. Both his eyes -damn Moody for having different eyes, it gave him headaches- widened as he saw the Connors girl standing by the door.

"Don't we have charms, Connors?" He heard Longbottom ask, slightly surprised that his voice didn't stutter. The boy was a coward and not only was the girl a Slytherin, he had seen the respect the other Slytherins had for her. That was never without reason.

"I just need a quick word. Draco will talk to Flitwick so don't say a word."

Nervously, Longbottom nodded and scurried off. Connors walked in, black curls bouncing and grey eyes immediately fixing on him. When he's first gotten a good look at her, a few days ago, he'd almost called her Bella. She looked so much like his old friend, only younger and not burdened with the fear and pain of Azkaban. He'd had to lock himself up a for a few hours to get all the memories to stop echoing in his head. Now he was more prepared. He knew who this was. He'd met her when she was just a baby. He'd held her in his arms and spoken gibberish to her and she'd stared up at him with those grey eyes like Rodolphus' and laughed. He'd barely turned 18 at the time and he couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through him the first time he looked at her. She was so tiny, so pretty and innocent. Amidst so much fighting other humans and lying to his parents, this little pure creature had appeared and smiled at him without any judgement. It had fascinated him. He had cared for that baby, like he'd barely cared for anyone else.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir. Do you have another class coming in?" She asked, looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes that did nothing to stop the churning in his stomach.

"I don't." Was the only thing he could get out of his constricted throat. He couldn't help it.

His breaths became shallow as he watched mini-Bella walk forwards. He couldn't help but hope. If he found his friend's daughter... he could hear Bella and Rodolphus' screams of her name -Annabelle- as they had their happiness sucked out by the dementors. It echoed in his head. If he had found her... not just for the Dark Lord, but for them and for her-

"Do you know who I am?" She asked, keeping her voice lowered, haunting, dangerous. "I don't know who you are. I know all free Death Eaters, I know how each of their Dark Marks feel. I don't know you, but you're not Alastor Moody."

"Who you are?" He muttered as she came closer.

"Who I am. My name is Annabelle Lestrange. Did you know that? I could feel you staring." She questioned.

He felt like his heart was bursting in his chest. Annabelle. Flashes of her as a baby passed through his mind, flashes of the desperation his friends felt -he felt- when she was taken and now... here she was. Strong and proud and... she knew. She knew herself, she knew the Death Eaters -pathetic traitors the lot of them- and... she wanted to know him. Barty couldn't help the dampness that gathered in his eyes and knew it must make a strange sight. His mouth hung open as he struggled to find words. One of his hands reached out but stopped just short of touching her face. She was frowning slightly, waiting for his answer.

"I knew you-" He cleared his throat. "when you were just a baby. Baby Annie. I was there when you were born."

Barty watched her eyes widen. "My- my name is Bartemius Crouch jr. I went to Azkaban with your parents." Now he forced himself to touch her face. She didn't move away; she was frozen. "You look like Bella." He sighed.

"You know my father?" She asked.

He nodded.

"You were friends?"

He couldn't help but smile. "He took me under his wing when I first joined." Barty had never been one for getting close to other, but with the Death Eaters he'd found common ground with the Lestranges and a... being he admired and worshipped in his Lord. And he'd found a tiny little person who had brought a smile to his face without effort in this child.

Her lips trembled and she looked down. "I want to make them proud." She whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm bringing our Lord back." He assured her. "He'll give you your parents, Annie."

"My parents... bring him back?" She sounded hesitant but he tried his best to persuade her. He had to get her on the right path.

"Yes. Help me and he'll reward you beyond your wildest dreams." He gripped her shoulders.

She was still looking at the floor, her confidence having disappeared. "I need to bring him back; that's true." She swallowed. "How do I help?"

Barty hadn't felt this happy in a long time.

After missing Charms, Anna had come to them and told them she wasn't feeling well, that she'd talked to Professor Snape and he'd allowed her to lay down in her room. She hadn't told them what was going on and Theo believed -no, knew that there was something wrong with her. She'd looked... shocked, she'd been in a daze and barely registered when they'd talked to her.

He sighed as he piled some lemon tarts on a plate to take to her. She hadn't showed up to dinner, so he made sure he took something to her. Draco would be taking something too, he supposed; Draco really cared for her.

He did too, he supposed. Theo didn't know when he's stopped looking out for her just because his dad had told him too and when that had turned to friendship. He knew even less when that'd turned into that fluttery feeling he felt when she was around, when she talked animatedly about whatever magic she'd found and when she danced with him at the various balls they attended. He wondered when he'd being by her side had stopped being something he did out of convenience and when it'd started being something he wanted to do.

They'd found her sitting in a chair by the fireplace in the Slytherin Dungeon, reading a small black book they'd never seen before. She was completely absorbed by it, it seemed, and didn't notice them sitting down around her. She didn't look alright. He saw her skin was pale and she was dressed in a woolen robe as of she were cold. Ever since Monday when he'd take her to the Hospital Wing she'd been off. As if she were afraid of something.

"Here you go, Anna." Draco announced and put a plate of mince pies by her arm, attempting to look like he wasn't worried out of his wits like they all knew he was.

Anna looked at the plate and then at her cousin, the expression on her face surprised. "Thanks." She said but didn't touch the plate.

He put his down by her other hand. "You can eat these after. I know lemon's your favorite."

Again she looked at him but he could tell she was barely registering what he was saying. His hand itched to reach out to hers and squeeze it, if only to make her realize he was there, but he didn't and just stepped back and took his own seat next to Blaise who raised and eyebrow at him. Theo just shook his head and looked away.

"What's wrong Anna? Is it the magic again?" Draco asked.

All of their friends turned to look at Annabelle who didn't raise her eyes from the book though her eyes were fixed on a single spot and she wasn't reading. Her whole body was tense and wound up. Her face was frozen in hidden -but still perceivable- horror.

"I'm fine. I just had to lie down for a bit."

Draco fowned and it was silent for a long time. Some started doing their own things but most kept watching her. She was stock still, her eyes frozen in place. She wasn't reading. She was thinking; and whatever she was thinking of, it was terrifying her.

"Anna." Theo said.

The girl finally moved her eyes to look at him.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"...I... I'm fine." She licked her lips, still looking like she was stuck in a nightmare. Anna closed her eyes.

Anger welled up inside him. How come she couldn't tell them. Huh? Weren't they... whatever they were? "Anna-" He started, voice loud enough for Blaise to grab his arm warningly. He swallowed and continued in a lower voice, though just as angry. "Stop lying to us."

Anna's eyes snapped open. Her lips trembled as she started into his eyes. She blinked a few times before looking back at her book and then at Draco, then she looked back to Theo. He was about to keep talking when he saw tears trailing down her cheeks. He froze.

No. No, he hadn't meant to-

A soft sob shook her and she clenched and unclenched her hands. She looked away from him. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I don't have a choice."

He opened his mouth to protest but she had stood up, holding her book to her chest, and hurried away to her bedroom, leaving them all behind in shock.

It was silent for a while before Draco growled.

"Theo-"

The blond rose to his feet, looking like he was going to hit him, but then turned away and strode off in the direction of Anna's room. Theo laid his face in his hands. Stupid. She'd been on the edge. He shouldn't have gotten angry... he was just so worried... The hurt look on Anna's face kept coming back to him, the look of terror and pain and how... he felt sick. He'd made her cry. He never wanted to see her cry, least of all because of him.

Draco sat with his back against Anna's door for the best part of the night. She hadn't let him in. Around three in the morning he's woken up because Adrian -now a seventh year and Head Boy- had tripped over him and then proceeded to order him to bed. No amount of arguing would convince Pucey to leave him alone, not without a reason at least and Draco was not about to tell him that she'd been crying. Because she had; he'd heard her through the door.

The next morning he found her sitting at the Slytherin breakfast table, hair fixed, make up in place and sitting straight; as if nothing had happened. He didn't mention the incident, he didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Neither did he mention the fact that Adrian handed her two bottles of potion instead of one. She'd looked at him warningly until he'd adverted his eyes from her as she drank it. He knew she was ashamed. Ashamed of having to protect herself from magic, the one thing that made them special. He wanted to tell her that she would always be his family, no matter what. That he wasn't like his mother, that threw away her sister because of blood-purity. Hell, Anna could marry a muggle for all he cared. He'd love her anyways.

Or so he told himself.

The day passed like that. In silence. Draco and Theo stayed close. Theo'd apologized for pushing her -under Draco's scrutiny- but she'd shook her hair and told them it wasn't his fault. She was just overwhelmed. By what, she hadn't said.

Class went on as usual. They listened, they didn't listen, they doodled and read other things. He argued with Potter again, but the Griffindor had barely looked at him, preferring to look at his cousin with a look of worry that had angered Draco even more. Potter was not even allowed to think about his cousin, how dare he.

At potions she'd looked more than a little nauseous, her eyes darting everywhere when they walked into the ingredient cupboard as if looking for something. Though all the ingredients they needed had already been laid out for them.

In DADA she was the only one doing something else that got away with it. Patil was told off for reading under the table, Crabbe was given detention for drawing but Anna was reading a different subject altogether and Moody hadn't said a thing. In fact, he'd waited by the door as they all filed out and whispered something to her as she walked out last. Or Draco thought he did, maybe he was mistaken. He hoped he was mistaken.

At dinner she ate little, he noticed, but she talked with almost everyone. And everyone kept their mouths shut about last night, wether because they were afraid she'd be angry or because they were afraid she'd break down again, he didn't know. He did know that she still seemed nervous. Every once in a while she'd space out and then come back with a pained grimace on her face. Sometimes she'd take out the little black book -he still didn't know where she'd gotten it- and look up something in a hurry or write something down in a loose piece of parchment.

She was up to something. They could all tell. But unlike the years before, she was telling them nothing; even less than the other years. And what she was doing scared her.

That night she asked him to come to her room, so he did. He was in his pajamas when he knocked on her door. She opened immediately and let him in, a tentative smile on her face. Her hands were clenched on her nightgown nervously as she paced the room.

Draco waited patiently by her desk, watching her worriedly, until she stood still and turned to him. She looked scared again. Her skin was paler than usual and her calm mask -not that it had fooled anyone- was gone.

Slowly she stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck. She was shivering. Draco wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back in soothing motions as best he could. He waited for her to talk.

"I don't want this." She whispered. "I've thought long and hard about it and... while what I gain is something I want this... this is wrong."

A soft whimper left her lips.

"I can't go back. I have no choice. I don't want to."

He smiled a sad smile into her curls. She smelled like the jasmine soap he'd gotten her for no reason other than he loved her. He wished he could tell her not to do it but he knew it wouldn't change a thing.