Hey guys! Well, here's the next chapter. I hope you like it!
Anna's hands trembled slightly as she fixed her appearance in the mirror. She carefully made sure all tiny strands of hair were in place and that there were no wrinkles on her dress. Her breath was shaky as she inhaled and exhaled, slowly, patiently, twice. She blinked, clearing her eyes, and stepped to the side towards the door. Weaving her way amongst the papers, books, furniture and other trinkets that she'd flung about, she left her room and entered the hallway of the girls' dormitories. It was empty, seeing as it was late in the morning, but she knew that it wasn't because of classes. Those had all been cancelled to search for the missing Headmistress.
With another deep breath she started walking until she reached the common room. There were quite a few students there, who quieted down only slightly when they spotted her. Anna didn't look at them directly, only combing through the faces to see if any of her friends were there. Blaise and Daphne were sitting in a single armchair to the back of the room but when they made to stand up she turned away. It wasn't them she was looking for. But then again, she'd known none of the ones she needed would be there.
She turned on her heel and headed down the corridor of the boys' dormitories. Paying no mind to how many doors she passed, her feet took her to nearly the very end by memory alone. Then she stood quietly before a door. It was made of dark wood, like hers, and had a silver handle and knocker, like hers as well. The dim candlelight reflected off the silver paint that spelled the name of the inhabitant.
Draco Malfoy
After swallowing nervously, Anna knocked.
It took a few seconds but eventually the door opened, revealing her cousin's pale face. His hair hadn't been slicked back yet and platinum locks framed his face and cast shadows that made him seem almost skeletal. He blinked at her, studying her stiff posture in silence before stepping aside. She entered in silence and remained silent as he closed the door behind her and moved to his desk chair.
Several more minutes passed as she avoided his gaze, her eyes flitting around the room to stall for time. It was tidy to the extreme, the exact opposite of her own, with a carefully made bed, clothing all folded and tucked away, books all stacked and arranged on his desk and bookshelf and writing utensils all laid down ready to write with. Her cousin had always been near obsessive with his cleaning, even when they were younger. It'd taken a lot of work for him to give in and not move anything when he was in her room, for him to understand that chaos was only another form of order.
"Well?" He finally cut through the silence.
Draco's voice was cold and hard, like he already knew what she was going to say. Angry and unforgiving, like it'd never been towards her but was completely justified to be. She'd failed him, after all, failed him and everyone else who'd been victimised by the events of last night.
Marcus' message had been crisp and to the point. Prophesy destroyed. Black and Nott killed. All but your mother and the Dark Lord arrested with help of Dumbledore. How could an assignment such as this end up in both complete success and complete failure? She could barely look at herself. Understood completely if he didn't want to see her after this, if he never forgave her. His father had been sent to prison and she hadn't saved him.
"In a matter of speaking, it was a success." She licked her lips, decidedly not looking at him and grateful that he didn't speak. "The prophesy was destroyed and Theo's father was taken care of."
"But?" He prodded impatiently.
Anna turned to her sitting cousin. Draco was looking at her with hard eyes and lips pressed into a line. Her mouth went dry and she turned her face away, as if that would cure the deep sense of anxiety and wrongness that was flooding her body. It didn't, but not having to see the reproach in his eyes helped her get the next words out.
"Several things went awry. Somebody killed Sirius Black and, for some reason, the Dark Lord was forced to go and help." Anna let out a dark laugh that had no humour in it. "I don't know exactly how things played out but it seems that thanks to Dumbledore only mother and the Dark Lord escaped. The others were arrested and it's not a large stretch to assume that-"
"-that they'll go to Azkaban." He snapped, getting to his feet with balled fists and a face contorted in a mix between anger and pain. Draco didn't look at her as he started pacing and every step he took echoed loudly in the silent room. Every sound made her wince, as if he'd landed a blow, and she didn't bother hiding it. He'd always seen right through her.
"Draco, I'm sorry." She begged. "I never should have sent Uncle Lucius- It- It was dangerous and risky and- and now-"
Her voice died out when she saw he didn't turn to her, only kept walking, kept muttering curses under his breath. He ran fingers through his hair, tangling it rather than combing it, and his movements became more and more frantic and erratic. For a while he kept it up, either not noticing or not caring that each of his actions served to beat her further down. But that was his right, she told herself, it was her fault that uncle Lucius was in Azkaban, that all of them were. Her fault for pushing them all into such a situation, her fault and responsibility for everything that had happened to all of them.
"You would have known better." Draco finally scoffed bitterly, taking off his black jacket and draping it over the back of his desk chair. He placed his hands on each side of it and crouched forwards, looking to the ground deep in though. Nothing is his appearance pointed to him having calmed down, even then. His muscles were still tense and near shaking and his face was still fixed in a tight grimace. "You would have known better than to send people into the centre of the fucking Ministry of Magic. You would have. You would have found another way to get that prophesy, if you truly needed it, without sending your most valuable men into something you knew they wouldn't escape from. You would have known better."
"I'm sorry-"
"Stop damn apologising, Annabelle." He scolded her, face reddening in anger as he kept talking. "I don't want your apologies, as if you'd done anything but what you had to. You would have done things differently. They happened as they did because you had no control over it. You always take the blame for everything he does, for everything you have to do. If Potter has a hero complex, you have a martyr complex. You do. You take the blame for everything, let yourself be blamed for everything! All the time!"
"Ultimately, I brought-"
"Brought him back to life, bullshit." Draco hissed. "He would have come back some way or another, and do you think we'd be in such a favourable position if you hand't proved your worth from the beginning? Don't come to me with your fucking guilt ridden martyr crap."
"But- they're all-" She started, looking back down.
"In Azkaban!" He yelled, getting into her face and grabbing it tightly with both hands. "My father is in Azkaban. Your father is in Azkaban. Rabastan is in Azkaban. Your friend Barty is in Azkaban. Everyone but your mother is in Azkaban. Everyone!" His eyes were wide with rage. "But don't you dare take the blame. Don't you dare start wilting like a frightened child because I heard that Umbridge was missing. I know what you did. I know that if there's something you're not it's a frightened little girl. So you do what you do best and we'll be by your side until the end."
"I told you that unc-"
"You lied." He scoffed. "You told me father wouldn't be arrested and you lied because otherwise I wouldn't do what needed to be done. I resent it, yes, but I understand it. I should have known that there was no chance of them coming back from this. Even if he gets them out as quickly as he can, even if the Dementors leave Azkaban tomorrow, they won't be the same. Not my father, not anyone. So avenge them, avenge who they were because those people were always better than the ones we'll get back, no matter what they did in the past."
"Avenge them?" She muttered, wincing slightly as his hands tightened. If her skin didn't end up reddened or nearly bruised after this she'd be surprised. "Is that what I do best? Take revenge?"
"What you do best is teach people their place. You get what you want." Draco's eyes were so wide and so close to hers that they were all she could see. "Teach Dumbledore that he can't send our family into that hellhole without repercussions. And teach the Dark Lord that we are not his toys to just throw away whenever he wants."
"Isn't that what we were already planning on?"
"There's a difference between planning someone's defeat and someone's destruction, dear cousin." His breath tickled her lips, warm and damp, and his anger chased away the last of her feeling of guilt. Fear trickled away from her as he hissed in a voice more calmly violent than he'd ever heard him use. "Those old men just signed their death warrants. They did, they did."
"Well, Harry, you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students will suffer lasting damage from the night's events." Dumbledore told him gently, leaning back against his desk as he eyed Harry carefully.
The teen didn't look back at him, still staring numbly at his hand around the doorknob. He tried to answer the professor, but no sound came out. To him anything the old man said would only serve to remind him of the damage he'd caused, of the pain he'd made his friends go through, of Sirius. Harry couldn't meet his eyes, feeling that even if the old man was -for once- looking at him directly and without a hint of accusation, it would be enough to drive him over the edge anyway.
"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up." The Headmaster -wait, was he that again?- continued. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to have a few deep cuts patched up with more care due to some unknown curse, but it seems she'll make a full recovery."
Harry swallowed and nodded at the carpet, letting go of the door and taking a few steps further into the office. He kept his distance from the desk, though, and he kept his eyes down, fixed on the floor. The sun was rising outside, letting more light stream into the tense room and giving him an excuse to keep studying the intricate design on the carpet. His face was heating up, in embarrassment, anger and guilt. He was sure the portraits were listening, no doubt curious about what had happened.
"I know how you're feeling, Harry." Dumbledore attempted, still speaking quietly.
"No, you don't." Harry was surprised to hear that his voice was loud and strong. He was angry; Dumbledore know nothing about his feelings and had no right to claim otherwise.
"You see, Dumbledore?" Nigellus started from one of the walls. "Never try to understand students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, strew in their own-"
"That's enough, Phineas." Dumbledore cut him off.
Harry turned away from them all, coming to stand in front of the window and staring out of it with a furious determination. He could see the vast grounds of the school from there, spot almost every place where he'd seen Sirius over the last few years. He'd been in the form of a dog, so he wouldn't be caught, running such a risk just so he could see Harry. One time he'd watched Harry play Quidditch. How it must have hurt his godfather, seeing Harry so grown, doing what his father did best, only for Harry to have no memory of either of them.
"There is no shame in what you're feeling, Harry." Dumbledore's voice piped up from behind him again. "On the contrary... the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."
Harry felt the anger inside him -which had receded a bit to make space for grief- surge up again, blazing in the cold emptiness in his chest, filling him with a strong desire to hurt Dumbledore, to rage against him for his calmness, for his empty words, for his absence, for his callousness and useless empathy. In that moment, he hated the old man almost as much as he hated himself.
"My greatest strength, is it?" Harry wondered, voice starting to crack as his eyes stopped perceiving his surroundings. "You haven't got a clue... you don't know..."
"What don't I know?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
It was too much. His impassiveness only served to make Harry angrier, to cut deeper into an already bleeding wound. Harry turned around to face him, shaking with rage and face only barely controlled.
"I don't want to talk about how I feel, alright?" He muttered.
"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human-"
"Then I don't want to be human!" Harry roared, voice cracking even as he grabbed the delicate silver instruments littered around the office and flung them across the room. The little trinkets smashed against the wall and shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. Various of the portraits called out in fright and anger, criticising his lack of manners and respect.
"I don't care!" He yelled, turning to them while snatching up more little things and throwing them into the fireplace. "I've had enough! I've seen enough! I want out, I want it to end! I don't care anymore-"
He seized the table from which he'd taken all the instruments and flung it across the room as well. It broke apart and the pieces rolled around on the floor. Harry stared at it for a few seconds, panting harshly as his anger continued to coil under his skin.
"You do care." Dumbledore hadn't moved an inch or even flinched at Harry's violent actions. He looked the the boy calmly, boring into his green eyes with his own blue ones. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."
"I don't!" Harry screamed, so loudly he felt his lungs might come out through his throat, and for a second he wanted to keep destroying the office. He wanted to pick up as many instruments and tables as he could and fling them towards the old man, anything to shatter that calm appearance, anything to make him feel even the slightest bit like he did at this moment.
"Oh, yes, you do." Dumbledore continued, speaking even more slowly. "You've lost your mother, your father and now also the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care."
"You don't know how I feel!" Harry roared again, motioning wildly at him. "You- standing there- you-"
He could feel the pain clawing in his chest, the anger burning him from the inside, making him feel like the two feelings were racing each other to see which would break him first. He didn't want to keep screaming, to keep yelling and taking it out on everything and everyone in his path. He wanted to leave, to run, to get away from everything. Especially those clear eyes that held pity in them. He didn't want pity, he wanted it all to end.
Harry turned away again and strode to the door, but when he pulled at the doorknob it wouldn't open. He tried again, nearly wrenching the door off it's hinges, but it stayed shut. He turned back to the professor.
"Let me out." He said, still shaking.
"No."
For a few seconds, Harry was quiet, until he tried again. "Let me out.
"No."
"If you don't- if you keep me in here- if you don't let me-"
"By all means, continue destroying my possessions." The man said serenely, as if he didn't care. That was right. He didn't care, he had proved that thoroughly in the past year. He didn't give a damn about Harry, not really. "I daresay I have to many."
"Let me out." Harry's voice turned cold and calm, almost like Dumbledore's.
"Not until I have had my say."
"Do you- do you think I want to- do you think I give a- I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY!" Harry finished. "I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"
"You will." Dumbledore assured him. "Because you are not nearly as angry at me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."
"What are you talking-?"
"It is my fault that Sirius died." Dumbledore stated, eyes dimming slightly with sadness. "Or should I say, almost entirely my fault; I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and charismatic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the DoM tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the DoM, in any way he could, using anything and anyone at his disposal, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have come after you. That blame lies with me and me alone."
Anna smiled gently as she closed the door to Greg's room, leaving both Greg and Vince to talk things through together. They'd been upset about their fathers' fates but they hadn't complained. They trusted her to do whatever needed to be done, they said, and they'd do whatever she needed them to do. Their parents knew the risk -and in one of the few moments in which those two said something so intelligent yet simple that left the others speechless most of the times- told her that she was the one that should be angry. For herself and for all of them. They were the children, they shouldn't be forced to clean up their parents' mess, they shouldn't be forced to protect themselves and their parents from certain torture and death. That wasn't their role, so she should be angry that it had become so.
They'd spoken slowly, mostly in mutters, as they always did when they had a thought that was hard to put into words. She'd valued it, truly, and told them so. Some things are so simple that one loses sight of them, some things like this are forgotten in the chaos of their daily lives. But they kept it in mind. Greg and Vince's roles were to protect them, to have their backs and watch the world around them, so they'd taken it upon themselves to alert them to the harm they were causing themselves as well, the hurt that was done to them without their knowledge. Anna was grateful for that. Anna was grateful to them for being so loyal and kind to them all.
But now there was someone else she had to take care off. Her last stop of the day.
Gently, she rapped her knuckles on the door to Theo's room. "Theo? It's me, can I come in?"
The door swung open, but he wasn't behind it. When she stepped through, though, she saw him sitting up in bed, still wrapped in the sheets. He was looking at her steadily but with an air of apprehension, one hand still holding his wand up and the other gripping a thick blanket tightly. Brown hair was tangled as if he'd just woken up and his face was pulled into a worried frown. Theo didn't say anything, though, and waited as she came closer to sit on one side of the bed. He watched as she carefully pulled his raised arm back down and took the wand from his fingers. As she put it on the bedside table, her other hand reached out and started combing through his hair.
"I heard from Marcus." She began softly. "The prophesy's destroyed. Your father is gone."
She heard his sharp intake of breath and watched his face as it flitted through a wide range of emotions. With her hands still soothing him, she was silent while he settled himself. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she should comfort him or leave him alone or pretend nothing was wrong, everyone needed different things from different people in such situations. Anna didn't know what he'd want from her. It was the first time she didn't know how to act around him, and she didn't like it but she wasn't the one she should focus on at the moment.
Finally, he sighed loudly and rubbed a hand over his eyes while his other reached out to grab one of hers. Tears ran down his cheeks but he wiped them away, a grimace on his face that was almost a real grin. With the hand that was holding one of hers he pulled her closer, twisting her around so she was sitting with her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, clutching her tightly as she threaded their fingers together with one hand and reached down to rub soothing circles on his leg with her other. Theo had buried his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder, breath forcefully calm and she could feel telltale drops of water soak through the fabric of her dress onto her skin.
"Good." He muttered after a small while. "Good, he's out of the way- he's- he's gone for good. He payed for Moth- for mum." His voice cracked a bit. "D'you- would you mind-"
"Anything, love." She answered softly. "Whatever you need."
"Can we stay here a while? Like this?"
"Of course." Anna assured him, leaning back against him, feeling him clutch her even more tightly.
"Kreacher told me last night." Dumbledore continued to explain. "You see, when you gave Professor Snape that cryptic warning, he realised that you had had a vision of Sirius trapped in the bowels of the DoM. He, like you, attempted to contact Sirius at once. I should explain that members of the Order have more reliable methods of communicating than the fire in Dolores Umbridge's office. Professor Snape found that Sirius was alive and safe in Grimmauld Place.
"When, however, you did not return from your trip into the forest with Dolores Umbridge, Professor Snape grew worried that you still believed Sirius to be a captive of Lord Voldemort's. He alerted several Order Members as soon as he could." He sighed before continuing. "Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when he made contact. All agreed to go to your aid at once. Professor Snape requested that Sirius remain behind, as he needed somebody to remain at Headquarters to tell me what had happened, for I was due there any moment. In the meantime he, Professor Snape, intended to search the Forest for you and, by extension, for Dolores Umbridge who is still missing.
"But Sirius did not wish to remain behind while others went to search for you. He delegated Kreacher the task of telling me what had happened, and so it was that when I arrived in Grimmauld Place shorty after they had all left for the Ministry, it was the elf who told me -laughing fit to burst- where Sirius had gone."
"He was laughing?" Harry's voice sounded hollow.
"Oh, yes." The professor nodded. "You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not Secret Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts, or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Bellatrix and Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it."
"Like what?" The boy asked.
"Like te fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the word was you." Dumbledore said quietly. "Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, and that you knew where he was, but Kreacher's information made him realise that the one person for whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black."
Harry felt numb, cold and numb and stupid. "So... when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night...?"
"Bellatrix would have told him he must find a way of keeping Sirius out of the way once you had seen the vision of Sirius being tortured. Then, if you decided to check whether Sirius was at home or not, Kreacher would be able to pretend he was not. Kreacher injured Buckbeak yesterday and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him."
Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. "And Kreacher told you all this, and laughed?"
"He did not wish to tell me, but I am a sufficiently accomplished Legilimens myself to know when I am being lied to and I... persuaded him to tell me the full story, before I left for the Department of Mysteries."
"And- and Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him." Harry spat, hands curled into fists on his knees.
"She was quite right, Harry." Dumbledore insisted. "I warned Sirius when we adopted Grimmauld Place as our Headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's-"
"Don't you blame- don't you talk- about Sirius- like-" The anger that had briefly been abated flared back to life, even when his shortness of breath prevented him from getting all the words out properly. "Kreacher's a lying- foul- he deserved-"
'Kreacher is what he has been made to be by wizards, Harry." Dumbledore shook his head. "Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius' bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier-"
"Don't talk about Sirius like that!" Harry yelled. Furious, he'd gotten to his feet again, ready to fly at Dumbledore. "What about Snape? You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual-"
"Harry you know Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge." Dumbledore stated. "But as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as he was able about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the Forest."
Harry ignored that bit of information; he felt a savage pleasure in blaming Snape, it seemed to ease his own sense of guilt, and he wanted to hear Dumbledore agree. He wanted Dumbledore to, for once, admit that Snape was not the trustworthy, honourable man he claimed him to be.
"Snape- Snape goaded Sirius about staying in the house- he made out Sirius was a coward-"
"Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him." Dumbledore disagreed.
"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons!" Harry snarled. "He threw me out of his office!"
"I am aware of it." Dumbledore sighed. "I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence."
"Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him. How do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort? Make it easier for him to get inside my-"
"I trust Severus Snape." Dumbledore said simply. "But I forgot -another old man's mistake- that some wounds run too deep for healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father, but I was wrong."
"But that was okay, wasn't it?" Harry yelled. "It's okay for Snape to hate my dad but not for Sirius to hate Kreacher?"
"Sirius did not hate Kreacher." Dumbledore countered. "He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike... the fountain we destroyed last night was a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward."
"So Sirius deserved what he got, did he?" Harry screamed in his face.
"I did not say that, not will you ever hear me say it." Dumbledore replied quietly. "Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius hated."
"Yeah, he did hate it!" Harry snarled, his voice cracking as he resisted the urge to burst into angry sobs. He started pacing, ignoring the way the eyes of all the portraits followed his movements. "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it. That's why he wanted to get out last night-"
"I was trying to keep Sirius alive-"
"People don't like being locked up!" Harry yelled furiously, rounding back to face him. "You did it to me all last summer too-"
Dinner was a tense affair. Various Slytherin students had forsaken sitting with their year mates to be closer to Anna, the ones who'd lost their parents the night before, others whose parents were still free but with whom they didn't agree, some whose parents would be forced to join or to run. She'd told them she wanted to talk to all of them in the Common Room after dinner, late at night, and since then they'd stayed close. It was a plan she'd discussed at length with Draco in the afternoon, a plan which they'd hatched some time ago, but hadn't known when to put in movement, one which was risky but would further her control over her godfather's troops. Was that correct? Troops? They were going to war, yes, but her battles would be silent and covert. She wouldn't have troops, not in the literal sense of the word, but she would have her own people. Many more than she already did.
Her eyes trailed to her friends around her. Theo was out of it, understandably, with his best friend Blaise at his side making sure... that he didn't lose it, she supposed. Draco was flanked by Vince and Greg, as usual, and he still radiated that unnatural cold rage he'd felt earlier that day. Somehow she knew that they both got that anger from the same side of the family. She could still feel his hands clutching her face tightly and didn't know if she was proud of him for stepping up, or very sorry that he'd had to become that way.
Daphne and Pansy had arrived late to dinner, not that anyone had noticed. Now that Lord Nott was dead, they could start making arrangements for the hiding muggleborns to start immediately. Daphne had reached out to all the companies overseas that had agreed to provide for supplies and put them in contact with Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, who would be overseeing the preparations and security of Nott Manor until they got out of school. Marcus had also managed to contact several other previous Slytherins who were trustworthy enough because they knew her, Gemma Farley, Lucian Bole and Charles Warrington amongst others. They were people that weren't just on their side, like the others Marcus had roped, but that would be unquestionably loyal to Anna in particular. They had known her since her first year after all.
Pansy had gone to talk to the twins. She had muttered that they were pissed about Sirius, that they didn't blame Anna but that they also didn't care what she said; they'd try to kill Bellatrix the first chance they got. Anna hadn't reacted. They couldn't kill her mother, even if the woman survived the supreme punishment Anna would make sure she got somehow once she got back, they weren't skilled enough to kill her. She had no qualms about them trying, though. She hadn't known how she felt about her mother before. Now... well, now she knew for sure that even if they somehow gained an emotional connection, her mother would always try to kill her if she found out the truth. Daughter or no daughter. Anna didn't know how she'd become that way, but she had little doubt about the fact that monsters aren't born.
Suddenly the Hall quieted down and she followed her fellow students' gazes to the teachers' table. Dumbledore had stood and was walking around the table, presumably to stand by the steps for some big speech. He'd been back by breakfast apparently, been named temporary Headmaster by the Minister until Umbridge could be found. Then a choice would be made about who was to gain control of the school. Not that there was any doubt that Dumbledore would regain his old spot; apparently the Daily Prophet had revealed the return of the Dark Lord that very morning, along with the Minister's confirmation. Students had started rushing left and right to apologise to Harry, but he'd been nowhere to be found. Anna guessed he must have been in the Infirmary, looking after his friends. Or maybe they were looking after him, losing his godfather must have been a serious blow. Not that Anna understood the feeling of loving one's godfather, but she supposed it was his equivalent of what she was feeling about her father and other lost relatives. Only she could get them back.
The guilt made her a bit sick to her stomach, but she did her best to push it away. Draco had told her that nothing of what had happened in the Ministry was her fault. But it was, truly it was. She had made sure they got out of the school. If nothing else, she was guilty of her schoolmates' injuries because they wouldn't have gotten out of Umbridge's office without her order. Harry would have gone, along with Granger, but not the others. Somehow she doubted Fred and George would forgive her for that, and she always got an ill feeling around the Weasley girl as it was.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "If I may have your attention, please?" He didn't really need to ask for it, everyone was still as a statue. "There are various things I must say, one of which has nothing to do with Lord Voldemort's return."
The professor ignored the violent flinching and twitching an moving that the name had caused. If he noticed that the area of Slytherin around her hadn't reacted, he didn't let it show. In fact, his eyes started at the Gryffindor table and moved slowly to the other side. He hadn't reached them yet when he started talking again.
"I am sorry to announce that after a day of searching through the Forbidden Forest, with both Professor Hagrid and the local centaurs' help, he were able to locate Professor Umbridge." He sighed. "It seems that on her way back to the castle last night, wandless as she is assumed to have dropped it in the Forest, she fell into the Black Lake. There, I regretfully inform you that she drowned."
Whispers filled the room, but Anna remained silent. Did he suspect her? He may, but light magic left no trace in a place as saturated as Hogwarts. If she'd used a curse it could have led him straight to her, but that was the thing, wasn't it? Magic is magic and all of it can be used for good and bad. But had she used light magic for bad? In all honesty she believed it to be a question of one's outlook on life. Killing was wrong, in theory, but Umbridge would have done many worse things if she'd let her keep living. Then again, someone would always take her place. Was killing her wrong if she was protecting her future victims?
Truth be told, she hadn't done it for them. She'd done it for herself.
If she had to tell the truth, she was exhausted. Anna didn't want to have this meeting right now -in the middle of the night- but there was no other moment. Nobody would look twice if a bunch of students slept in on the last Saturday of the school year, but suspicions would arise if people saw a few dozen Slytherin students, the majority of which family of known or suspected Death Eaters, gathered somewhere. Hence why she was now sitting in the armchair by the fire in the Common Room at two in the morning. She sat regally, staring into the fire as the others settled down, noticing but not commenting on the fact that Draco and Theo didn't sit. They stood on either side of her chair, silent sentinels making sure that nobody that wasn't supposed to be there attended. Blaise was silently ticking off names and Daphne and Pansy were whispering about something with Tracey and Millicent. Mil was the daughter of suspected Death Eaters, Tracey wasn't, but anywhere one went the other was too. There was something going on between the two, Anna knew, but she never mentioned it. If they didn't tell anyone, it was none of her business.
After a few moments Blaise cleared his throat, coaxing silence out of the other teenagers in the room and turning to Anna. "We're all here. All thirty-two of us."
"That's quite a number." Anna hummed, fingers trailing over the Lestrange family ring she almost never deigned to wear. Then she turned to look at everyone. "I'm sure that by now you are all aware of at least the basics of what transpired in the Ministry of Magic last night. Nevertheless, please be patient with me for a few minutes as I recount the events."
Standing up, she sighed and walked carefully amongst the sitting students, aware of their eyes following her every move. "Last night was the culmination of a plan that was set in motion by my godfather, Lord Voldemort. The plan's aim was to obtain a certain artefact from the Department of Mysteries, one which was enchanted so that only he or Harry Potter may remove it from its place. Thus, so as to not have to enter the Ministry himself, he lured Potter there and sent a certain amount of his most valuable and trustworthy Death Eaters to take the artefact from the boy. They not only failed to do obtain it, but my godfather himself was forced to appear to help them. Even then, the only ones that made it out of the Ministry were him and my mother. This proves something."
"What this proves is," She continued, speaking in a calm and clear voice and placing a hand on the back of one of the students as she passed. "that he does not care about his followers. Not even his inner circle, those who have devoted everything they have and are to him, are safe from being used and discarded at his whims. It would have been possible for him to get the artefact himself, if a bunch of teenagers made it into the Department of Mysteries without setting off any alarms then surely the greatest dark wizard since Grindelwald can too? But instead of running that tiny risk himself, he sent those who were most valuable to him into danger. Nobody can be sure that they won't be betrayed by him. Not our parents, as we have seen, and most definitely not us."
"Now I ask you this." Anna turned to a few of her year mates and then to the older students. "Many of you have known me for almost five years. In those years you may have noticed that I have two very specific, if not always positive, character traits. I am very possessive and very protective. I killed Dolores Jane Umbridge because she dared antagonise the students at the school; I will make sure that those who are mine are safe from him and his. There is a distinct difference between the safety I will afford the students at Hogwarts and the ones who follow me, mainly because while those who follow me run more risks, Death Eaters will not be allowed to even look at them wrong. All I ask in return is loyalty and dedication. Both to me and to my goals." She paused. "Of course it is all your own choice, I will not force you into anything you do not want to take part of. All you need to do is get up, inform Blaise that you will be leaving."
Anna stopped talking, wandering slowly to her chair as the others around her pondered her words. It was a difficult choice, she knew, one which she would not make lightly herself. Then again, she would never have been presented with the choice, she would always choose her own side. Not everyone is capable of building an own side, though, which was why she put it all so clearly herself. The choice was risky but simply put it was this: either be used and sacrificed by him or run the risk of being caught. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, was what they all were.
"There is no guarantee that you'll be able to protect us, no matter what." Millicent piped up from the side. "There's always that risk that someone talks too much or slips up and that we end up exposed. But I know you, Anna. I know that you'll protect us with all your might. Not just because you care, but because you'll be damned if you let him touch what you consider to be yours. It's not a really healthy mentality but... but I trust you. I'd rather run the small risk of you failing than be doomed to the certainty of taking my parents' place in his army and be thrown away just as easily or even more easily than them. I stay."
Beside her, Tracey nodded her agreement, thick brown braid bouncing on her back with the force of the movement. There was a small wave of whispers around them, though, most agreed but some didn't. Some sounded skeptical and afraid. The ones that remained silent looked from Anna to Blaise with constipated looks, trying to figure out the best course of action. She wasn't going to interrupt them so she sat down. From behind her, Draco moved to the side, heading over to Blaise to whisper something in his ear. The dark skinned boy nodded and stood, claiming everyone's attention.
"I apologise, but I believe I forgot to inform you when I invited you." He motioned to the list in his hand. "As soon as you agreed to attending, a charm that I put on the parchment was activated. You will not be able to talk about this meeting with anyone but the ones who participated. It's a simple tongue-tying curse, but a bit more thorough as it doesn't stop you mid sentence. Less likely to be noticed, you understand. So please, do not be afraid of being betrayed by anyone present. When you're with Anna, you're in a safe place."
The girl in question had to hand it to him. Once one is past the trust issues one has with her, once they passed the thought of 'is the risk worth it' thanks to Millicent, all that remained was the distrust towards each other. If that was amended by not only making them safe from the others, but also by hammering the thought of 'Anna = protection' in their heads... Well, she had no doubt that only a few of them would refuse. Blaise always knew how to play a crowd.
Several more minutes passed, each filled with more whispered discussions, until three students got up and left. Once they had vanished into the dormitories, Anna smiled and stood again. It didn't seem like any more of them were planning on leaving. That was fine. It was, after all, their own choice as she had stated.
"Now that that's over with, there's something I would like to request of all of you." Anna nodded to herself. "The youngest of you, all under fifth year, will be tasked with watching. You will watch your housemates and the other students and figure out which of them would be on our side. I do not need to tell you that from this year on, we will not be looked at kindly. Therefor, please do your best to appear as approachable and likeable as possible." At their nods she smiled. "That is all for now. You will all turn in your findings to Draco. But for now, those of you under fifth year should go to bed."
In a hassle of movement, a dozen and a half of students got up left. Many of them stopped by her chair to bid her goodnight, so she returned the expression with as gentle a smile as she could muster. Some of the youngest, only eleven, asked her to please watch out for their families, which she agreed to. If they asked, then she'd try, but their families weren't hers, she she was not going to really guarantee it.
Once the last of the younger students had gone she turned to the rest. "As you know, my godfather has a lot of followers. Many are as devoted as my parents, but even more aren't. A large chunk of the Death Eaters are terrified of him, with good reason, and know just as well as we do that they are not safe from him. The only problem is that they do not know me and I do not know them, there is little trust to be won when both sides are in the dark about one another. I would like to ask of all of you to approach your parents and other Death Eater relatives and get close to them and their Death Eater friends. Get to know them, understand them, and tell Theo and Blaise which ones could be turned to our side. If his troops are more loyal to us than to him it's only a matter of time until his kingdom crumples down around him."
"D'you think he won't notice? You taking his followers, I mean." Darius Berrick asked from the back, he was a sixth year. Didn't look like much, but that was a good thing, wasn't it?
"There is a reason as to why he won't notice, Darius, and that's this: he will trust me too much." Anna smiled. "Not only am I his goddaughter, not only did I help bring him back to life -as unwillingly as I might have done it- and took over the school for him, I will do so much more. I will take over the Ministry of Magic and greatest of all, I will kill Albus Dumbledore."
There was a stunned silence in the room so she chuckled. "I do not expect any of you to help me with that, I will do it myself. And it's not for him either, even if it does win me quite a bit of credibility. It's because he took me away from my parents, because he took my father and my uncles and so many of your parents from you. I have no interest in siding with Dumbledore, I might as well get rid of someone that poses me such a threat as him." Then she smiled. "Now, I bid all but the seventh years goodnight."
It took a few seconds for them to react, but the fifth and sixth years soon complied with leaving. Millicent and Tracey stopped by her chair, both leaning down to give her quick hugs before leaving. They had never been particularly close, but Anna was fond of them. She valued their friendship and the clear loyalty that they showed her. They were brave, which was important, but them being brave and ready to do anything didn't mean that she would ask much of them. In fact, she would try not to make them run too many risks. Definitely less risks than she was asking Adrian and Marcus to run.
"For the rest of you, I have something a little more complicated in store." Anna sighed. "You will all be leaving Hogwarts this year, and there are two things I want you to help me with. I won't give you anything more than the basics as of now, you will get all further information from Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey."
She stood, walking closer to them and sitting down on the armrest of an empty armchair. "As I already mentioned, I will be taking over the Ministry soon. In order to get that done as covertly as safely as possible, many preparations must be made, and so many people will be needed. We have already gained quite a few people in most departments, but as you should understand not all of them are on my side. Arian and Marcus are, so you will listen to them and not discuss anything with anyone other than them."
"Now, for the second thing." She licked her lips. "With the help of Fred and George Weasley, I will be hiding muggleborns over the course of next year. They are cooperating with Marcus and Adrian while I am at school and-"
"Wait, mudbloods? You want us to protect mudbloods?" Graham demanded, voice rough and disbelieving.
Anna did her best to hide her irritation at being interrupted, quite rudely at that, but she noticed her friends behind her had stiffened. "Graham, please be patient, I shall explain." She straightened up and looked him in the eyes. "Lord Voldemort does not give a damn about blood purity. He believed muggleborns to be inferior to him just like he believes everyone on this earth to be inferior to him. He himself is actually called Tom Riddle. Does the Riddle family name ring any bells?"
At the boy's silence she continued. "It doesn't because it's not the name of a magical family. Voldemort does not care about blood, the only reason he targets muggleborns is because the witches and wizards with the most wealth, with the most power, do. Purebloods have hated muggleborns and admired power since the beginning of time, which is something he used to his advantage. He used the pureblood society's purist ideology to take control of as many influential people as he could."
"So my opinion is this. I, personally, do not care much for blood anymore. I care about my own blood, but others' blood is their own business. I want to protect them because they would never have been in danger if it weren't for me. As to why you should help me with that... well if I were you I would consider this: do I keep hating muggleborns and maintain that handle which he can use to pull me closer, or do I protect those he would target for something he does not truly believe in, thereby not just saving lives and opposing him even more, but also creating a safety net of something others value? By saving muggleborns you are also saving yourself. Once he falls, they can hardly arrest you if a few hundred innocent people are alive because of you."
Harry left the hospital wing, several days after the Ministry incident, leaving his friends behind to keep discussing the Daily Prophet's more thorough account. It told the whole world how he'd been telling the truth about Voldemort, told everyone the truth about Sirius, told everyone what had happened in the Ministry. But he couldn't stand it. He couldn't sit there and listen to them talking, sharing his loss but not really. It wasn't the same for them, losing Sirius. They didn't know the truth about the prophesy. They didn't understand the heavy weight that had settled on his shoulders ever since the conclusion of his talk with Dumbledore.
He'd told Ron and Hermione that he was going to visit Hagrid, and that was what he'd do. He didn't want to lie to his friends, he was already omitting to tell them some very important things as it was. But he couldn't bring himself to look forward to his friend's company, to anyone's company really. He felt tired and empty and hopeless. Only he could end everything, only he could protect everyone, and he felt like the responsibility was crushing him.
Suddenly he stopped. He'd been crossing the Entrance Hall, absent as he walked outside, when the door to the Great Hall opened. A group of Slytherin students stepped out, amongst which was Malfoy. The boy was slightly taller than Harry, much more slender, and froze as suddenly as Harry did when his eyes landed on him.
Many things came to mind as Harry studied the boy he'd always hated. One of which was that they were distantly related, something which he'd purposefully ignored since Christmas as it was too horrible to think about. Him related to that blonde git? He was better than Dudley, but only because Malfoy's hatred of him didn't derive from disdain but rather scorn. Malfoy took Harry's existence very seriously, even if he hated it. But there was no hate in his eyes as they stared at each other.
Harry couldn't look away. Not because he was about to start taunting the blond git, but because for once he noticed the boy's grey eyes. They had always reminded him of the older Malfoy, should have now more than ever, what with Lucius' desperate eyes etched into his mind. The man had been imposing at the Ministry, had looked at him with merciless eyes and demanded the prophesy from him. True, he hadn't harmed them until they'd posed resistance, but Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the violence he'd seen the man commit.
Those weren't the eyes Harry thought of now, because now Malfoy's eyes weren't cold or hateful or mocking. Now they were filled with pity and an underlying layer of anger. Yes, anger, but for once not directed at him. For once Malfoy didn't throw insults or look at him in disgust. Now he just looked back at Harry with a face carved with sincere remorse. And he recognised his eyes. He had seen those grey eyes hundreds of times, filled with sadness and laughter and pity and friendship. He'd seen those eyes on Anna.
For a few seconds, his mind struggled to catch up. Even as the Slytherins moved on, he stayed standing stock still, staring at the spot Malfoy had vacated. He felt like the world was moving too fast around him, like everything happened and he couldn't catch up. How could he catch up? When this one thing suddenly clicked and things made more and less sense than they had before.
If Draco and Anna had the same eyes, that meant that they were related. There was only one relative on the Black family tree that was unaccounted for, and that was Annabelle Lestrange.