Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. This was hard to write for some reason. Will you tell me what you think? I'm not too sure how it turned out.
Dora had never thought her apartment was too small. It was a one bedroom place, with a kitchenette, a shower-bath combination bathroom and a balcony big enough to have some potted plants in it. She didn't need much more, she was barely ever here in the first place. Work took up a lot of time as being an auror was demanding. Then there was the Order and the extra shifts they asked her to take, as well as the extra training Mad Eye was imposing on her lately. Before her father had left, she'd also made sure to spend at least a small handful of hours over at her parents' place. Brunch on the weekends or dinner somewhere in the week. The most she was ever at home was to catch up on sleep, to have a quick bite to eat, and to water the plants. She'd never noticed how small it was until her mother had come to live with her.
It wasn't that having Andromeda there bothered her. St Mungo's was very demanding as well so they barely ever crossed paths, but at night they shared her room and the small space seemed suffocating. Sharing a bed with her mother wasn't strange, she'd done so when she was a little girl, still did it sometimes when she felt bad or was sick. Now, it was because Andromeda had said it would be perfectly ridiculous to transfigure the couch into a bed when they had plenty of room in Dora's. It was true, but right now she was regretting the decision. She couldn't think with her mother next to her, knowing full well what was going through her mind.
Or rather, she thought she did. It was terrifying, finding out that they'd sent her father into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter. Dora remembered what Sirius had told her about Anna. About the crying and problems and the questions. That she didn't want to be part of the Death Eater thing, that her parents and family name were forcing her into things she despised. But Sirius was dead now, and he'd died as a byproduct of a plan Anna had directly taken part of. Sure, the twins could claim that when it came right down to it, Anna was not at fault. She didn't tell her mother to kill Sirius, she didn't tell Sirius to be there, she didn't tell you-know-who to get the prophesy. Then again, without the girl's involvement there might never have been a scuffle at all. Sirius might have said that she was unwilling, but she sure wasn't acting like it now. Now, all her actions pointed to her having made up her mind about everything.
Fred and George said she was hiding muggleborns. That she was sabotaging you-know-who and preparing his downfall. Should she believe them? She very much wanted to, but she'd never met the girl. Was she supposed to take two eighteen year olds' words for it?
"Out with it then, Dora." Andromeda's voice sounded through the darkness. "I can practically hear you thinking."
"You don't seem worried about dad, but you must be, right? He's there with- in the hands of-" Dora let out a shaky breath, turning on her side to look at her mother's profile. She could barely make it out.
"I am worried, though less worried than I was before. Like any hideout, this is risky."
"But this isn't any hideout! This is a hideout controlled by Bellatrix's daughter, of all people. A marked Death Eater! Dumbledore ought to be told-"
"I have no doubt that Albus Dumbledore has an eye on things. He's busy enough without having to worry about this." Her mother sighed. "I understand your hesitation, I really do, but it's not who she is that worries me. If anything, it gives me peace."
Dora sat up, a betrayed frown on her face. "What do you mean it gives you peace? Do you even realise who she is?"
"Nymphadora, I daresay I have a much better understanding of this girl than you." Andromeda snapped. "You forget that whoever Bellatrix may be to you, she is my sister first and foremost. I grew up by her side and though we have out extensive differences, I know her better than most ever will."
A deep sigh resounded as the woman sat up as well, raising a hand to comb through her daughter's hair. She sat with her legs folded, body hunched over with weariness but pretty alert nonetheless.
"If what Fred and George have told us is correct, if what you told me Sirius said is correct, then I believe Anna can be trusted. More than anything, I understand the disgust she must feel at what her mother is. It was inevitable that she would become so, however." There was a pause, as if her mother were thinking about how to continue. "Our father didn't have any sons, just us three. Bella, as the eldest, bore the brunt of his displeasure. She had to be stronger than everyone else, smarter than anyone else, more obedient, purer, and generally… better, I suppose. He wasn't kind to her, he didn't love her, he… turned her into the woman she was before Voldemort rose to power. In her eyes, he was everything she wanted to be, everything she had to be. I think she fell in love with the idea of him, with the sheer power he commands. His cruelty and violence didn't deter her, she was used to that from father. It all served to turn her into the kind of woman that would try to kill her own sister for marrying for love. The kind that would torture people into insanity. The kind that would give away her own daughter like a present.
"Anna didn't grow up like that. She grew up outside of the magical world. Outside of the pureblood circle, which is even more important. You must never forget that while she might behave like the rest of those children, she wasn't raised into that behaviour. It is self-taught. She arrived into our family, the Malfoy-Black-Lestrange family, and was dropped into the deep end. Is it understandable that she would cling to the idea of her parents, of who she was born to be rather than who she was? Yes, it is. But what is more understandable is the fact that once she found her footing, once she regained her balance and got a proper look around herself, she would want to get out. This purity thing, the violence, the hatred, she was not raised to think like this. Now, Sirius may have said something about her magic, which may have enabled the girl to put up with all of it for longer, but the fact remains that while she may get many things from her parents, being a Death Eater does not come with blood. I'm proof of that and so was Sirius.
"So what is a child to do? Dumbledore stole her, it's no wonder she wouldn't go to him, but she's related to Sirius and I so she's clearly far too stubborn to let herself be walked over and too petty to let the assumption slide. Our family has a tendency to be really smart, and so do the Lestranges. Is it all that much of a stretch to think that she would do all this? It is a culmination of the effort children make to not be forced to make their parents' mistakes. As you've seen from the twins, this is not only all of her doing, there's dozens, maybe hundreds of teenagers and young adults working hard to get themselves -and everyone they love- out of this mess."
"So why us? Why dad?" Dora insisted. "You say that she's probably not like Bellatrix, that this is all to be trusted, but you know that they came for us specifically. They came to me first and when I was unresponsive they went to you! If they're so busy then why spend all this extra time on one more muggleborn?"
"Because your father isn't just any muggleborn, you're not just any auror, and I'm not just any healer. I'm Bellatrix Lestrange's blood-traitor sister, and if I know Bella I know that she'll come for us eventually." Andromeda sighed and laid back down. "Your cousin is probably just trying to protect us from her mother. She knew Sirius, she knew who and what he was, though she probably didn't expect her to kill him even so. We all want to expect the best from out parents, even against all the odds. When her mother killed him it must have reminded her of exactly who she was dealing with and she probably just wants to avoid the same happening to us."
Dora dropped back down heavily, thoughts still whirring too quickly in her head. She would probably not be getting any sleep tonight. Deep down, though, she knew it was better to be worried about what she knew that about what she didn't know.
"You sound way too calm and reasonable about all this." She huffed.
One of her mother's hands reached out and to her's. "I was married to Ted back in the first war too, it was worse back then."
"How so?"
"Our father was still alive, and Cygnus Black was more dangerous than Bella ever was, only he had no master."
There weren't many places to have drinks in Knockturn Alley. Well, not many places that would pass a health inspection, at least, and thus not many places that Marcus felt comfortable enough in to order anything. If it were up to him, he wouldn't be anywhere near the grimy hell hole in the first place. It was common knowledge that anyone with dark persuasions was more likely to be here. Well, it was more like 'not everyone with dark persuasions was in Knockturn Alley but everyone in Knockturn Alley had dark persuasions'. Walking around here was a risk, especially for him and especially since he got marked. Any Ministry official that spotted him would immediately be suspicious of him.
"I'm sorry I made you do this." Adrian bit the inside of his cheek, eyes moving over Marcus' face for a short second before returning to the pub around them. It was a dark place, small and less taken care of than the fancy places they usually ended up in, but they were at the back and had a good vantage point from which they themselves weren't visible.
"You didn't make me do anything. Some things have to be done and this is one of them." He reached out a hand under the table and clenched Adrian's fingers. "I'd do this a million times if I had to."
"What? Send an innocent man to Azkaban for me?" His old classmate turned back to him, brown eyes showing the rare amount of insecurity that only Marcus was allowed to see. Even back when they were children he would always have an easy smile and a wink, completely fake and convincing to everyone but him. Sometimes he thought that seeing Adrian's feelings so clearly was more a curse than a blessing, they drove him to do things he shouldn't.
"Shunpike is far from innocent and you know it." He scowled. "But yes, I would. You know I would."
"I can't believe Anna's letting you do this."
"You're her friend, you're important, I don't see what you're so surprised about."
"Sirius Black was her cousin, I rather think that framing people would be a touchy subject." Adrian rolled his eyes, a thumb softly rubbing over Marcus' knuckles. Then he froze. "Wait, she doesn't know about… us, does she? I though you didn't want to tell her…"
"I didn't, but I think she knows anyway. Either way, it doesn't seem like she cares. It's not her I was worried about, it's about the rest of them finding out. She grew up muggle, those people are far more open to us than… well, us."
He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. Never thought he would find something in the muggle world that he would prefer over his own society, but here he was. Adrian and him had been friends since childhood, but he didn't know when they stopped being just that. It had just sort of happened and for a long while it had made them too ashamed to look at each other. After all, they were both firstborn heirs to ancient family lines whose duty was primarily to marry some pureblood girl and have children. It was another reason why he wasn't lifting a finger to help his parents after this whole ordeal was over. He'd rather stab them in the back than let them marry him to someone… female.
"Doubt she'll tell anyone. She doesn't like gossip." Adrian bit his lip, his tone sounding more hopeful than certain. "If it comes down to it, though, do you think she'd stop anyone from… well, you and I both know that we'd be disinherited if out parents found out. We've got enough cousins lining up for the cash and the titles with our same names."
"I think that anyone who has what she considers to be a wrong opinion, and expresses this opinion at the expense of those she cares about, better run." Marcus sipped the last of his butter beer. "She's far more close-minded than people think, you know. Far less tolerant."
Adrian was about to speak when they saw a figure heading their way. It threaded amongst the tables, hood drawn over their face to not be recognised, and arrived without so much as a single floorboard creaking. He could recognise the recently graduated Miles Bletchley from the line of his shoulders and the barely visible chin. Their old friend wasn't working at the Ministry, since he'd taken up a potioneer-herbologist apprenticeship since he left Hogwarts. This, incidentally, meant that he had much more freedom to move about in both Alleys. Seeds and potion ingredients were available all over the place and it was no secret that some shops had better quality than others.
Miles took a seat in front of them, hand reaching out to take one of the biscuits that had come with their tea. He made a face at the staleness of it and left the bitten remains back on the table. Then he reached out and took a sip of Adrian's tea to wash away the taste. Always a picky eater, this one. They remembered.
"Dawlish is in the Cauldron, Shunpike is here in Knockturn. Been following him for a while, he's slightly drunk." Miles finally spoke, ignoring the annoyed looks both his older friends were sending his way. Truly, a few years away from each other and they already forgot how he behaved? He doubted it. "Seems to me like he's liable to step back in there for a few more drinks, if his gossip is juicy enough. From what I remember, the Puff never really could keep his trap shut."
Marcus sighed, running a finger over the rim of his cup. Anna had told him to do this with only Adrian, but he'd gotten Miles involved anyway. The younger boy was a good friend, loyal if a bit of a wiseass. They'd gotten along better than with most others, definitely better than with Graham, and thus he'd not really had any second doubts about pulling him into this.
"You can't tell anyone -and I mean anyone at all- about this, mate. Only Anna knows and she can't know about you being involved." At the younger boy's raised eyebrows he scowled. "I mean it!"
"All right, all right! Don't get your panties in a twist!" Miles held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Adrian. "'Ve you got anything to say about this, then?"
The Pucey had been silent the entire exchange, he'd been unwilling to get their younger friend involved as it was, let alone have him lie by omission to their boss. Was it strange that he considered Anna -a sixteen year old girl- to be their boss? Yes, yes it was. But better her than the Dark Lord. At least, if she was angry at them she'd scowl at them and passive-aggressively fix their mistake, not cast the cruciatus curse. There was a huge difference.
He shrugged, taking his hand subtly out of Marcus' and placing his elbow on the table. He placed his chin on the palm of his hand, pouting his lips slightly as he pretended to think. "You got crumbs in my tea, now I can't drink it. You owe me three knuts."
Miles snorted, taking three little copper coins out of a pocket. "Fine, don't tell me what you're thinking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a date." He got to his feet, wagging his eyebrows exaggeratedly.
"Who'd be daft enough to date you?" Marcus also stood, dropping a few coins on the table as payment and pulling up his hood.
Before Miles could answer, Adrian had snickered, the tension in his frame dissipating slightly. "Gemma. Apparently she likes younger men. Or, boys, looking at Miles here."
"Funny." Bletchley scoffed, pretending to be affronted. "You're a right sneak, you know that?"
"One of my many virtues, I've been told." Adrian also slipped his hood over his head, covering the carefully brushed chestnut hair and making sure his face was not visible. Later on, when they were closer to Stan, he would slip on his Death Eater mask and there would be no more danger of being recognised. For now, all three of them would remain anonymous.
They made their way to the door, making sure not to talk until they were outside and out of sight once more.
Pansy turned around as she heard footsteps approaching, raising her arms in silent celebration as the male members of their little clique appeared in the dark. Daphne, standing half behind her, immediately walked forward to latch onto her boyfriend. They'd been waiting for only a short while, but it was a bummer anyway. Whoever liked to stand around in their nightclothes for fifteen minutes in order to be allowed inside? Nobody, especially not her, but it was better for all of them to arrive at the same time and gang up a bit on Anna, as it were. It just sometimes needed to be done in order for her to reveal what they wanted to know, or reveal anything at all really. Lately, she'd been even more close lipped than before and they could tell that her mind was elsewhere.
"For the record, I'm not part of this." Theo scowled, crossing his arms.
"Don't lie, you want to know what she's not telling us too." Daphne poked him.
"Has it occurred to you that maybe she's not telling us for a very good reason? Frankly, I think she's having a hard enough time as it is. She'll tell me when she does," he countered before turning on Draco. "And you? Why are you here?"
"Well, knowing her, I don't think I want to know what's eating at her… while at the same time I do want to know." The younger boy shrugged. "I don't know if it's worse not knowing, but it can't be good."
"You're all unbelievable." Theo glared before pushing through the small crowd and to Anna's door. There, he knocked.
The door opened slightly. Enough for Anna to stick her head out, but not enough for any of them to step inside. She looked tired, as she always did when she took off her makeup, but also completely alert. If anything, she didn't look at all surprised to see them there. Mostly, she appeared to be resigned.
She sighed before turning back around and leaving the door ajar for them to follow her. By the time they'd all gotten inside, she'd already sat down at her desk and taken out a decanter of golden liquid and a glass. She poured herself a glass, omitting to offer them any, and watched them over the rim, waiting for them to speak up.
Theo scoffed, leaving his friends' sides and going to stand beside her, leaning against the desk. From there, he could easily see Daphne and Blaise sitting on the bed -both seemingly deep in thought about where to start- and Pansy leaning against the bedposts with a determined pull to her eyebrows. Draco, for his part paced from the door to the bathroom to the bedroom door while casting worried looks at the glass in his cousin's hand. There was a tense atmosphere that none seemed to be willing to break, but he got the impression that Anna was augmenting it on purpose. She had no patience for snooping and nitpicking on a good day, let alone so late at night.
"I did as you asked. Theo'll be joining me for tea with Slughorn at the next opportunity." Blaise spoke up, slightly less composed than he usually was as he watched their friend's silent, impassive figure. "And as for Dumbledore… he's barely ever in the school. Joins us at meals two or three times a week at the most and when he'd around he doesn't leave his office. Mostly, he's not around, though. He comes back to meet up with Potter on occasion but we've got no idea what they talk about."
Anna didn't speak, just glanced slowly at Theo -who returned her silent stare with a blank one of his own- and then swirled her glass around, watching the liquid for a few seconds before downing it. After swallowing, she licked her lips and placed the glass on the desk behind her once more.
"And I take it you've figured out a way to find out what those meetings are about?" She finally demanded. "You're not one to go giving half-arsed reports."
"Half-arsed? Anna-" Daphne began, but she was quickly cut off by Pansy placing a hand on her shoulder.
"What do you want with Dumbledore? I thought we'd agreed that he was too dangerous to handle by ourselves right now. Let him bother with the Dark Lord and let the Dark Lord keep him entertained, that's what you said." The second girl started. "You said it's part of your orders but if you're to be messing with the Headmaster then we all know that you can't do that alone. So tell us."
Anna sighed, pressing two fingers to her temple. "No, no I will not be doing that."
"Anna-" Pansy started.
"I won't hear anything else on the matter." She snapped. "All I want to know now is wether Blaise has a way to find out what Dumbledore's meetings are about or not."
"But-" Daphne attempted.
Anna slammed her hand down on the desk, the resulting sound loud enough to silence both girls. Her other hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles grazing her lips. For a second, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. Then she looked back at the other figures in the room. Draco, who hadn't spoken all the while and was now standing still in a corner, Blaise who was watching her with a glint in his eyes that could either be admiration or anger, and Pansy and Daphne who both had their mouths open to protest.
With raised eyebrows she turned away from her two best friends and looked at the boy on the bed. "Blaise?"
"Whatever you're planning can't be good. I don't want to know." He cleared his throat, ignoring the affronted look Daphne shot at him. "I figure your best bet is Longbottom. They won't be telling him everything, but if he's careful enough they might give him a general idea."
Anna nodded slightly, turning to look at Pansy. "Did Neville talk to the twins?"
For a moment Pansy seemed torn between continuing to argue -or attempt to do so, anyway- and actually answering, but she seemed to come to the conclusion that it would be futile so she gave an exasperated sigh. "He did. They've sent a few letters back and forth. He's still not completely convinced of them being completely genuine, though."
Anna reached out, holding her right hand out for Theo to take, which he did. She intertwined their fingers, studying his carefully cut and trimmed nails as she pondered. Neville wouldn't be easy to convince, in fact he would be harder to convince than the twins. If wasn't for any lack of intelligence or righteousness on their part or any overly strong conviction on his, but rather because Neville had much more reason to hate her than they did. Sure, to all three of them she was a marked Death Eater with infamously violent parents, but said parents hadn't exactly landed Mr and Mrs Weasley in the Janus Thickey ward for the rest of their lives, now had they?
"Make them set up a meeting with him next Hogmeade weekend. Lee and Andromeda can watch the shop for muggleborns while they're away. I'll be there as well, by myself." She instructed. "I'll arrive somewhat later, of course, to give them time to ease the boy into things."
"Are you sure?" Theo piped up for the first time. "It could go wrong."
"Everything could go wrong, but it doesn't change the fact that we need Neville. You've all made that clear enough so far and now I see it too." Anna sighed, letting her head fall against the back of her chair. "I need to know what's so important that Dumbledore would halt his expeditions to talk to Harry about."
"Fine. I'll let them know, but just be aware of the fact that they're going to be just as curious about this entire ordeal as we are." Pansy huffed, coming to stand closer to Anna.
Said girl closed her eyes, pressing a finger to her temple as the hand holding Theo's clenched slightly tighter. It was clear to all that she was done with the conversation and -frankly- ganging up on her hadn't helped them gain any new information but had done quite the opposite. Now Anna was even less inclined to share anything of an especially sensitive nature with them, and she was nothing if not stubborn.
With an annoyed groan, Daphne got to her feet, striding out of the room without a look back. She'd been very stressed lately, it was true, so they didn't really blame her for her prickly nature. They were all on edge, all of them were mature enough to acknowledge that. Blaise followed after, with Pansy at his heels, a muttered goodnight softly resounding through the tense room as he shut the door behind them. That left Anna with her cousin and her boyfriend, neither of which seemed all that content with the situation either.
"Spit it out." She ordered without opening her eyes.
"I just hope you have as much control over this situation as you think you do." Draco scowled, stepping forwards and grabbing the glass she'd used. He took a whiff, lip curling further as he recognised the smell of firewhiskey. "And I hope you realise that this isn't the way to go about things. If you need something, come to us."
"I'll keep that in mind." Anna drawled.
Draco rolled his eyes and also left, closing the door softly behind himself.
"Please, don't start." Anna hastened to say as soon as she was alone with Theo. If anyone could successfully convince her to spill anything, it was him. For his own good, for his own peace of mind, for his nerves, for his future escape from imprisonment, it would be best for him not to know. If she had a say about it, he'd never know, even if she told him something. And if he did, it would be way after the fact.
"I wasn't going to say anything." Theo lied. "I just think that you need to be careful not to upset them too much. You delegate a lot of things. People get careless when they get angry, or when their minds are elsewhere."
Anna looked at him for a long while, silently gauging the solemn look in his eyes. From a lower angle, his set jaw and lowered brow made him look sterner than he usually was. Not that he wasn't a serious person, but there was a negative connotation in the word stern and she was unwilling to use anything negative to describe him. Still, he seemed worried, and because of that, she felt she had no incentive to show her own insecurities. She was, after all, the one that had to keep a cool head around here.
Harry had been wracking his brain for ideas on how to confront Lestrange. Every spare moment he had he spent staring at the little black dot on the map, marked with her name. It was always flanked by two others, Crabbe and Goyle or Malfoy and Nott. She was rarely alone, which meant that there would be no opening for him. Last year he could've just approached her and asked her for a word, but now it seemed that she'd realised that he knew. Either that or she didn't care enough to hide. She openly wore the Lestrange family ring, her usually polite smile was replaced by an apathetic mask, and her mannerism had suddenly started resembling Malfoy's. She didn't seem worried about Dumbledore, which -Harry supposed- made sense because he was never here and he was doing nothing to stop her. He didn't know how to handle this new version of her, this real version, and worst of all; he didn't know what he would do if he confronted her. Could he handle her if she lashed out violently? What would he say if she actually admitted to anything? He had no idea and Ron and Hermione's warnings about how dangerous she was didn't help at all.
Hogsmeade was not his idea of a good time, right now. He wanted to be at school, working around this problem instead of giving in to whatever distraction the others wanted him to partake in. Ginny was here too, having ditched Dean for the day at Ron's insistence, and so was Luna. Neville couldn't make it, she said, because he had Herbology homework to catch up on. Harry also had things to do but for the first time in history, Hermione had said that going out and having a bit of fun was more important. He'd always been rubbish at going against her so he'd relented, taking the map with him to check wether she was at the castle every once in a while. The last time he'd checked -before leaving the school grounds- she'd been at the library with Nott. She never left the castle without Crabbe and Goyle but they were already heading to Hogmeade with Malfoy, so surely that meant that she wouldn't be going?
"Harry, are you even listening?" Hermione grabbed his arm, looking at him with a slight pull between her eyebrows. It was obvious that he wasn't so instead of waiting for his muttered response, she repeated what she'd said. "We should go into the Three Broomsticks for an early lunch so we can get a table, otherwise it'll be crowded and we'll end up waiting for hours."
"Right, yeah." Harry nodded, letting himself be pulled along as they walked over the cobblestone road to the pub.
The streets were crowded with students, all milling about and enjoying themselves, which was strange to see considering the current circumstances. At least, it seemed strange to him, but to everyone else seeing him so preoccupied might be strange. They didn't understand, and it made him angry when they made assumptions even though the very fact that they didn't know what it was like to be in his shoes was a good thing. It meant that they hadn't gone through things as painful as what he had. He should be glad about that, he knew this, but it often just made him more upset. He was just so tired of everything happening to him, he wished he could just… have a few days in peace without being reminded that everything was falling apart. Now he couldn't even go to class without being reminded of it all, because she was always there.
"Don't you think it's awful?" Ginny muttered as they sat down in a booth at the Broomsticks. When all of them turned to look at her, she subtly pointed to the other side of the pub where Lestrange's group of Slytherins sat eating. "Nobody even knows there's two marked Death Eaters here."
Two? Harry frowned, casting the group of snakes a better look. Sure enough, Nott and Malfoy were both there… but so were Crabbe and Goyle. And Lestrange wasn't? That was not-
"Well, we can't say anything. Dumbledore knows because Harry told him and if he thought it'd be a good idea to have them arrested then he would've told Scrimegour by now." Hermione turned her back to the other group of students, looking to the side to see where Ron and Luna had gone to get their food. They were standing in line and it didn't look like they'd be back soon. "So just ignore them. It's not like they can really do anything while in public."
But they weren't all in public. Half of them wouldn't even be involved with Death Eaters if it weren't for her, and the others would probably have waited until getting out of Hogwarts before actively doing anything. As things were, he didn't know wether Malfoy or Nott had seriously harmed anyone, but he could bet that they had. He doubted they would be marked if it hadn't been for her, though, which meant that the only one liable to actually do anything was not here. That could be either good or bad, because if she was alone she could do anything she wanted, even things she didn't want them to know about. She was at school, though, so it should be- was she still there?
Harry frowned and shoved a hand into his backpack, ignoring Hermione's protests about how the whole idea of Harry being there was getting her out of his head. He opened the map under the table with Ginny looking over his shoulder, and traced a finger over the hallways and corridors. Lestrange's dot didn't appear anywhere, which gave only a handful of options. She was either in the Room of Requirement, or she'd left the castle.
"Bloody hell. Mischief managed." He hissed, watching the parchment go blank. If she were going to stay at the castle then Nott would've stayed with her. Harry had been watching her for weeks, waiting for her to do something out of the ordinary so he could catch her at it, and when she finally did he was in Hogsmeade. With an agonised groan he dropped his head into his hands and between his fingers he could make out Malfoy's face as he looked at Harry from across the room.
Anna lifted the hem of her dress as she walked over the torn up floorboards of the Shrieking Shack. Admittedly, she could've picked a more pleasant place to meet up with, but they'd already semi-fixed one of the rooms for the occasional face-to-face meetings she needed to have, so she might as well use it. Marcus tended to prefer talking to her in person when it came to certain things and sometimes there were documents and papers he wanted her to see which they couldn't send by owl no matter what measures they took to avoid having it intercepted. So, there was a room that was not completely destroyed. While the wallpaper was still ripped and the floors were still a mess, the furniture had been replaced by a handful of new chairs and a coffee table. It was comfortable, it was simple, and it was in a room hidden enough that common intruders would probably not find it. Probably. There were protection charms on the doorframe just in case.
She knocked lightly, hearing a hushed conversation cease on the other side of the door, and waited to be let inside. Fred opened quickly enough, offering her a quick greeting and a smile before stepping back and letting her pass. Inside were George and Neville, each sitting in an armchair and looking towards her with varying levels of ease. That is to say, George smiled and waved and Neville just sat there and looked at her as if wondering wether she would… act out, maybe. She supposed that her being upset at what he'd said the last time would be reasonable. In fact, she had been very upset, but not at him.
"Thank you, Fred." She smiled at the boy -man, now, really- standing behind her and started slipping off her cloak. Her long dress under it had been a present from Theo and she'd decided to wear as a sort of… comfort, should things get heavy again.
"Long time no see. We were starting to think you weren't coming." Fred winked, brushing past her and to a small bag that lay on the coffee table. "Pastry?"
"No, no, thank you. I just ate." She had, in fact, done so. Lately it'd been difficult to keep a regular eating schedule, which was actually very important for one's wellbeing, so she ended up calling for Taffy to bring her something from Malfoy Manor half the time. It was better than calling a school house elf, at least.
"You sure? You don't look so good." George piped up, watching her warily as she took a seat with them. "Bit too pale for my liking."
"I thought you were an inventor, not a healer." She muttered dryly, ignoring Neville's astonished looks back and forth.
"Andromeda has been giving us first aid classes." Fred intervened. "And you really look off, lass."
Anna shook her head. "Didn't get much sleep last night. Amelia wanted to talk."
Not a lie, not really. Amelia had called her and they had talked into the night, planning what to do with Dumbledore, but they'd put away the mirrors some time around three in the morning. It was almost midday now, she'd had time to sleep but she hadn't. School work had been piling up. Not that she was behind, not really. Nothing was late or of less quality than before, but she'd been spending less time on it. Didn't have it done as early as she used to, though, which meant she was slipping.
"Amelia Bones?" Neville demanded. "I thought she was dead?"
"I sure hope not since she seemed fine over the two-way mirrors last night." Anna raised her eyebrows. "But if you're referring to the attack to her house last year, that was staged. The Dark Lord wanted her dead, we pretended to kill her and she's hiding with the other muggleborn refugees."
Neville turned to the twins in astonishment. "Really?"
George nodded. "Yeah, she came through our shop. We receive muggleborns there and give them portkeys that can get them right outside the wards. It's all timed, there's people inside waiting to let them in." Then he turned to look at Anna. "How many are there now, anyway?"
"According to Daphne almost four hundred." She sighed. "We're going to have to start moving them out of the country soon or there won't be any space. Long distance portkeys are difficult to make, though, especially without the Ministry's approval… or that of whichever country we're sending them off to. For now it's Spain, France, Italy, and Greece. You know, the places in which we have summer homes. Not me, of course, since mother could burst in on them at some point, but the others."
"So you're… hiding people?" Neville continued, looking more and more confused. "So what do you need me for? Assuming I decide to help you, which I haven't yet."
Anna paused, looking at him carefully. It would be too much to ask, expecting Neville to let go of his problems with Anna to help her. He was focussing his hate onto her because he couldn't get to her mother, which was an irrational action that was not in his control. Not really, it would take a lot of conscious effort and it could fail. She couldn't afford to have him change his mind about his loyalties and suddenly turn on her again. If he decided to pitch in, it wouldn't be for her. Not yet, not unless she got to spend more time with him, talk to him, make him see that she wasn't like Bellatrix. She didn't need him to like her to do his job, but she needed him to be certain of what he was doing.
"I'm not asking you to help me." She told him, finally.
The three boys looked at her, all with different levels of confusion and disbelief. Well, the twins had been brought here because they thought she wanted to get Neville in on something. This was true. It would not go exactly as it had with them, though.
"I'm asking you to keep Harry safe."
"Wait-"
"What-"
"Boys." Anna held a hand up, looking at the twins impassively before turning to Neville again, who was once more frowning. "What I'm going to tell you has to stay between us. Not even Theo or Draco know this, so please." She held up a hand. "Harry and the Dark Lord are… linked, magically. That is to say, the Dark Lord cannot die as long as that link exists, but it also means that it's easier for Harry to kill him. He knows this, Dumbledore knows this, and Harry knows it… to some extent."
"To some extent?" Fred questioned, leaning forwards.
"He knows that he can kill the Dark Lord, supposedly he alone." She shook her head. "I don't think that literally means that only he can physically kill him but rather that he alone can break that link. Still, I don't think Dumbledore has told him the true nature of it. It's very… dark, and a difficult thing to swallow for anyone, let alone the one sharing that link."
"So… Harry's…?" Neville prompted.
"Harry is currently receiving private lessons with Dumbledore. If he is unaware of this predicament, however, those classes will end up being incomplete. I know Dumbledore well enough to expect that he won't be telling Harry anything until the very last moment because… well, he cannot afford to have Harry act out at the knowledge. That's not good, but I can't tell Harry myself because… well, he found out who I am, clearly, and he won't believe anything I say, especially if Dumbledore then denies it, which he'll probably do." Anna looked Neville in the eye. The boy was sitting at the edge of his seat, watching her with concentration as if he were prepared to weed out any lies she might try to mix in with the truth. So far, though, she'd only lied by omission. "I need to talk to Dumbledore, but our… history makes me very wary of what he might do. I can't go into that conversation blind because otherwise he might just end up harming what I'm working on. I need to talk to him knowing what he's doing and saying in those classes."
"So you want me to spy on them?" Neville glared and made to stand up. "No, I won't. He's my friend-"
"Neville, wait." She grabbed his wrist. "I'm not asking you to do that. I only need you to make conversation with Harry or Ron or Hermione to get a general idea of what they're talking about. I know enough to paint a picture from that. That's the only thing I ask; just find that out and I won't ask anything from you again."
He looked at her hand, which was still holding on to his wrist, and then he looked back at her. "It's for his protection? You swear?"
"Yes, I swear." Anna nodded multiple times. "He may think I betrayed him -and he's not really wrong, I did lie to him- but I don't want to see him hurt and I don't want things to be harder for him than they have to be."
"And you'll tell him the truth?"
"…Eventually."
Neville yanked his hand from her grip.
"Yes! Fine, I will. Before the school year ends. I just need to fix things with Dumbledore first since… well, I don't think that Fred and George will be able to convince Harry."
Neville looked her in the eyes, as if trying to gouge wether she was lying to him, before huffing and turning away. "I'll think about it. I'll let you know soon."
"Thank you." Anna tried to smile but her efforts were in vain. He didn't look back at her once before departing, closing the door softly behind himself and leaving her alone with the twins. She turned to look at them, finding them staring at her in astonishment. "What?"
"Either we've lost out minds, or you just begged someone to spy on Harry so you can talk to Dumbledore." Fred pointed at her. "And when were you going to tell us about this link?"
"I wasn't." She bit. "It's Harry's business, I only talked about it now because I had no choice. I trust that you'll not speak to absolutely anyone about it."
"And Dumbledore?" George pressed.
"I'm doing it because I have to." She snapped. "I'd rather jump of the Astronomy tower than talk to him but we all have to do things we don't want to do in times like this."
Anna rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. This had gone better than she expected it to, but that didn't mean that it'd gone well. All this talk about horcruxes had her mind whirling again and there were things she'd still not looked up about them that suddenly came to mind. Or rather, theorised about them. It wasn't as if there was an actual handbook. Well, there was; she was writing it. Still, things needed to be checked and double checked and cross fact checked and then checked once more. Souls were tricky things.
There was something deeply unsettling about young Tom Riddle Junior that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. Beyond the knowledge that this seemingly innocent boy would turn out to a mass murdering psychopath, there was something about the way he tilted his head, how he folded his hands in his lap, and how he blankly-politely-apathetically listened to the less old Professor Dumbledore talk that made Harry feel uneasy. His youthful features were handsome, like Riddle Senior's had been, and virtually unrecognisable from the marred, mutated appearance that he now sported. Voldemort now looked like something out of a nightmare, with his translucent skin and red eyes. Nothing like this boy before him.
As a child, he'd been passably polite, watching everyone with what appeared to be silent interest but was really mocking boredom. He held his tongue much more, trying to be passably likeable at the very least, whereas now he openly bragged and mocked and insulted. Voldemort now was dramatic and vicious, Voldemort then had been a… very still child. That was it, that was what got Harry. The stillness, the way he seemed neither aloof nor friendly, the barely hidden mirth behind the forced neutrality, the way he barely moved yet did so much at the same time. It was a profound sense of unease, what he felt around this child, even if it was just through the Headmaster's memories.
Harry had come out of the pensieve feeling unsettled. The hair on his arms and on the back of his neck were still standing on end and the words the boy had spoken mixed themselves with those of the orphanage's matron. Even as he watched Professor Dumbledore wearily sit down on the other side of the desk with a cup of tea in his hands, he couldn't understand how the man hadn't seen all the warning signs. Had he been that focussed on giving people chances that he'd not seen the one time that he shouldn't? Harry wanted to say that he was angry at Dumbledore for it, but when he thought about it, he would've done the same. Had done the same. One wants to believe the best of people, really, and sometimes that was not for the best.
"I know, Harry, that you're wondering about what was behind my actions back then. You're wondering what is behind my actions now, as well. I will tell you one thing before we continue, because I need you to focus on what we will discuss today and nothing else." Dumbledore set down the tea spoon as looked at Harry over the rim of his glasses. "People cannot always control who they become. Choices are made for them, far before they we capable of knowing the outcome. Merope made a choice when she gave Tom Riddle the love potion, I made a choice when I let the boy start building his first group of so called friends at school. Bellatrix made a choice when she decided to have a child in the first place, and I made a choice when I took that child away. Everyone does what they can and what they want with the cards they are given, but those cards are not always for us to choose. It's little use to blindly hate others, especially without understanding what is behind their actions. That is the purpose of these classes; to understand why things are the way they are, and how we must proceed."
Anna wiped her fingers with a handkerchief, carefully trying to remove all leftover dirt from her cuticles. She hated getting dirty, hated it with a passion, and the Herbology class was filled with happy go lucky students that cared about plants and all of that crap. It really got on her nerves because she really didn't give a single shit about them. The only reason she took Herbology was because an O on her Herbology NEWT was necessary to enter the Unspeakable training program, which she probably wouldn't even get into because she would be dead, seeing as she had not yet found a solution to her little horcrux problem. It all ended up in a huge pile of fuck-up since she was wasting time and good mood on… plants and soil and dragon dung fertiliser.
Two older Slytherin students were waiting for her by the greenhouse doors, annoyingly obedient to Theo's request of having her back. Please, she was probably one of the deadlier people in the castle. The only people she ran risks with were people these two wouldn't be able to handle in the first place, no matter how dead-set they may be on auror training. Still, she'd given in because she didn't want to argue with him. Everything was fine -as fine as they could be, at least- and she was loath to ruin that. Finally, he was giving in to the fact that she couldn't tell him everything so, stopping him from doing what he could to help in non-inquiring ways? No, she was not going to do that. It would cause problems she didn't need and couldn't handle right now. She was mature enough to admit when she couldn't handle something, right? No. Not right. Sometimes. On occasion. Mostly she just stubbornly dug in her heels and kept doing the bad/wrong/difficult/harmful thing, but… oh, well.
Suddenly a hand reached out to grab her elbow, pulling her to the side. Her head snapped out, hand twitching to her wand until she recognised Neville's face. Then her free hand shot out to the two other students, looking at them warningly. They'd already drawn their wands and pointed them at him. It was a good thing Professor Sprout was busy further inside and all the other students were gone, otherwise that would've made for a lot of trouble. As things were, the other two swiftly pocketed their wands again and stood back to let her talk in private.
Neville was looking at them over her head, giving her a questioning look.
"Theo insists on them." She informed him. "They won't listen in. What is it?"
"I wasn't going to do it." He scowled at her. "I'm not a spy."
"But?" Anna raised her eyebrows at him.
"But I heard them talking last night and… well, Harry was telling Ron about seeing a young Voldemort. As in… during his childhood." Neville shook his head. "It's… that's not normal."
Anna frowned. Dumbledore was showing Harry the Dark Lord's past? That had to be so he could figure out what the horcruxes were… If Harry gave Dumbledore the diary during second year then there was no way the old man wouldn't figure out what it was. That would lead to him searching for more, because if Voldemort survived the rebounded curse once and there was still an unused horcrux lying around it meant that there were multiple ones. Dumbledore was trying to find them and trying to teach Harry to do so as well. Training him to understand the Dark Lord because… because he believed only he knew about them and that only Harry would be able to truly end him… due to the prophesy? The Dark Lord had said that it claimed that they were the only ones able to kill each other, which Anna understood was because of the horcrux inside of Harry… and if Dumbledore was teaching him to find them… he was going to make Harry destroy it? Kill himself? He was certainly capable of that, yes, but it was a horrible burden to place on Harry. In the end, she knew, it would have to happen anyway, but training a child to end his own life? It was cruel.
"Thank you." She told Neville, snapping out of her train of thought to find him still staring at her. The phrase made him frown.
"I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for Harry. You said it's for his protection so you better keep him safe." He pointed directly at he face. "And this doesn't mean that we're friends. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you and I'm still going to kill your mother."
Anna exhaled, nodding. "I will do that and… for what it's worth, I think those decisions are the best thing for you right now."
"Not trusting you? Or killing Bellatrix?"
"…Both."
Theo considered going to Anna's room and taking some of her firewhiskey. He knew she was drinking, it was something she'd turned to when she thought he wouldn't notice. Or maybe she thought he would put up with it. That was more accurate. He wondered why he was doing it, really, because he could clearly see that she was not all right. She was never all right, but sometimes she was better. That was when she shared her burdens, when she let him take some of the weight off her shoulders and when she let him distract her and care for her. This devotion, however, seemed to him to be very one-sided. Not that she didn't love him, he didn't doubt that she did, but she didn't understand how he felt. She wanted to protect him from her troubles, she thought he had enough on his plate, and at the same time she piled more and more on herself. It was not something he wanted to argue about, it was not an argument he would win. They'd gone over it before, but every time they got to an agreement something worse just cropped up and made her backtrack into her little fortress in order to deal with it. He understood where she was coming from, he really did. In her stead, he would do the same. It was the natural response of someone used to being alone, to dealing with things by themselves, of being the smartest person in the room, of being the one people turned to when problems rose up. If he were her, he wouldn't know how to change his ways either.
He wasn't her, though, and he could not deny the pit in his stomach every time she turned away from him. Every time she took a sip of that glass, every time he watched her put on makeup to hide the bags under her eyes from yet another sleepless night. He wanted to hit Marcus every time he spoke to her about a problem instead of a success, he wanted to shake Daphne by the shoulders every time she pushed for information that was not intended for her ears, and he wanted to yell at Draco for ever taking Anna back to his home in their first year. Why couldn't they have left her alone? Well alone, out of all the trouble their society had pulled her into. She could've been happy, and maybe he would've been happy too. In some way, even if he'd never gotten to love her.
Still, there was something he could do. Beyond letting mudbloods invade his home, that was. He had a job to do and he wanted to do it well. Rather, he had multiple jobs but the only one he considered real was the general 'helping Anna' one. What did he care about that war? He could have killed his father and stayed out of it for good, they wouldn't have wanted him. The only reason he'd ever gotten involved was for her, the only reason he gave a shit about what happened to those people was because she did. It made him a bad person, he knew. Hurting people was bad, he knew that, logically. Yet, he could watch the world burn down around him and he would care very little. It was something he'd learned from his father and it shamed him to admit it; that level of apathy was inhumane, but his father had been inhumane so it made sense. He didn't want to be like that, though, he didn't want to be like him. He was helping, so he was better, right?
No, no. He was as selfish as his father was, only his wishes were different. It made him feel less guilty to know that pursuing what he wanted was also helping people, indirectly. That was good, wasn't it? That was helpful. The most helpful thing was leaving her path clear so things could get done, and if it meant that he had to do as he was told… it hurt his ego, it hurt his heart to see her like that, but doing anything else was futile and counterproductive. He would make sure she didn't destroy herself, but that was about the only thing she would let him intervene with, eventually. If at all, he wasn't sure. Telling the others that she would speak to him was one thing, knowing that it would actually happen was another.
Theo ran a hand over his face, dropping the letter in his other hand to the ground. His wand was on the desk in front of him so he took it and pointed it at the parchment. It burned. The letter had come with another scroll of parchment, which he'd securely put away in one of his drawers, and had thoroughly explained the contents of said scroll. It was tricky business but he understood it well enough. Anna wouldn't like this solution, but it was the only one he could find that would actually permanently fix the problem… and if he was being very honest, he liked it. There was no better way to show her that he was serious about being with her through the entire war, of being there for her, for whatever she needed. While the situation was far from perfect, it was sufficient. Sufficient was about as good as they were going to get for a long while.
Quickly, he penned down a letter. The wording was formal and concise, not dallying about or beating around the bush. It would not be intercepted, probably, but if it was there was nothing actually sensitive in it. Nothing from which they would suffer, should it be found out. There were hundreds of letters coming in and out of Hogwarts, though, and it would be difficult to catch every single one of them. That meant that certain owls were being watched. He had not hesitated to tell Madam Zabini to send the letter to one of Blaise's spies with a different owl so they could get everything back to him. Now, he had to have this one sent to someone else.
He cast a hex on the envelope, just in case anyone other than the intended tried to open it. Because of this, he would not be going to any of Blaise's kids. As their job clearly entailed, they were far too nosy for their own good. It would get them hexed. He had to go to someone else. Someone that was close but would know when to back off, someone trustworthy but not involved enough with them to actually warrant being watched.
With a snap of his fingers, he got to his feet and walked out of the room, blank envelope in his hand. Draco's room was only a few doors down and he knocked several times in quick succession. There was a scrambling on the other side of the door, followed by hushed whispers and more movement. Theo rolled his eyes and patiently waited for the door to open.
Draco appeared soon enough, hair disheveled and clothing in disarray. He seemed surprised to see Theo standing there and he quickly opened the door further so the other boy could walk inside. The room was a mess, with books and clothing and bedsheets scattered around. It was a stark contrast to Theo's obsessively neat quarters and it took every ounce of his strength not to pointedly glare at Draco because of it.
"I thought you were with Anna?" Draco sat on his bed, hands running over his haphazardly strewn comforter as he watched Theo.
"She went out for a walk. We're not attached at the hip, you know." Theo raised an eyebrow.
Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you want then? If it's company you need then I'm sorry, we may be family but we're not interchangeable. You're going to have to get your dose from someone else."
"Idiot. Who says I'm here for you?" Theo looked toward the bathroom door, raising his voice a bit before continuing. "Come out, Astoria. I need you to do something for me."
A few moments passed until she came outside, running a hand over her tousled hair and looking at Theo embarrassedly. Draco, for his part, was admirably silent. No spluttering, no excuses, just a silent exhale and closing of eyes. He dropped back onto the bed dramatically, draping and arm over his eyes and motioning for Theo to continue.
"I need a favour."
Astoria looked at him with wide eyes, surprised enough for the blush to drop from her cheeks. She was prettier than Daphne. Well… Daphne was more attractive than classically pretty, despite what her green eyes and blonde hair and plump lips might make anyone think. It was an elegant sort of beauty that her little sister did not possess. Astoria might, later on. She could grow into it. For now, though, she was just more innocently charming. Maybe that was what Draco liked so much. Surrounded by girls that could sniff out blood a mile away and would tear into the wound with surgical precision, maybe he wanted someone gentler. Theo could understand that, but he didn't share the sentiment. Half the time, watching Anna be in control and intimidating was what got him going.
"What can I do for you, then?" Her voice was halting, as if still confused about why he would need her. That was fine; Theo had never directly spoken to her before, after all. It'd always been Daphne's little sister and Daphne's friend between them.
"I need you to send a letter for me. My owl is probably being watched." He held out the envelope for her to take.
"Who's it for?" Draco asked, not even lifting his arm to look at them.
"Your mother." Theo answered, just as Astoria took it. Said girl raised her eyebrows, eyes snapping to Draco's lying form to see how he would react. The envelope wrinkled slightly between her fingers, grip suddenly tight at the perceived insult. It made Theo's eyebrows twitch.
"Funny. Ha ha." Draco's dry reply came. "But seriously. You're making her run a risk, the least you could do is tell me so I can cover for her if something happens."
"I meant it; it's for your mother." Theo shrugged. "Astoria needed to know anyway. The name's not on the envelope. What is on there is a hex, though, so don't open it."
"Wait." Draco sat up hurriedly, staring at him. "My mother? What do you need my mother for?"
"It seems like it's all I'm doing, lately. Talking to people's mothers." Theo sighed, mockingly frustrated. "It's just a small favour I'm asking, all right? Don't get all hot and bothered because I won't be telling you anyway. It's just… something for Anna, okay?"
Draco didn't seem convinced but his scowl subsided. He turned to Astoria, who'd been watching him carefully, and nodded. When he did, she walked over to the bed and took a small purse from under it. She stuffed the letter inside and closed it carefully, putting it back under the bed and turning to Theo once more.
"I'll send it tomorrow. Will I be getting the reply?" She asked.
"Yes, with a small parcel. Make sure it gets to me and only me." He looked her in the eye, steadily, sternly. "There is nothing that you're doing that's more important than the safety of that parcel, understood?"
She nodded swiftly, the youthful doubt in her eyes clearing and being replaced by a stronger sort of determination. "I'll make sure it's safe and I'll get to you as quick as I can."
Theo nodded. "Good."
Anna rarely walked around at night anymore. The last time she'd done so regularly was during her fourth year, when she had to keep sneaking out to talk to Barty. She'd almost forgotten how chilling the castle was after hours. There was something about seeing a place that was usually lively and crowded and loud be completely abandoned and silent that made one deeply uncomfortable. The portraits were asleep and the lights were off and the ghosts were off somewhere wherever ghosts went to at night, since they didn't sleep. She'd never really paid much thought to how the school changed at night, she'd only ever been out here when she needed something. For a purpose.
Tonight would not be the night in which explored the empty castle, though, because tonight she also had a purpose. An important one. She'd even taken off her high heels to make sure she wouldn't be heard and caught. It was strange to walk on flat shoes, she hadn't worn anything like that since aunt Narcissa made her start wearing heels after third year. Now, though, she was wearing a pair of old trainers which she'd borrowed from Tracey and a t-shirt she'd stolen from Theo several weeks ago. It was weird to dress like this now but once upon a time, she'd dressed like this every day. Dressing like this was better for tonight, though, because if anyone caught a glance of her they might not recognise her right away.
Her trip was short because she only had to go up a few floors and soon enough she'd arrived in front of a stone gargoyle. It seemed to sense that there was someone standing before it because it groggily opened its eyes and looked her up and down. The late hour must've made it more impatient than usual because after a few seconds of waiting for her to speak, it huffed.
"Password?"
Anna had been trying to talk herself into walking away. Nothing good could ever come from talking to Albus Dumbledore. She was willing to admit that certain things needed to be done, though, and this was one of them. No matter what personal feelings she might have against him, she and Amelia had come to a very fixed conclusion. She needed to talk to him. A common enemy this powerful merited dialogue at the very least. If Dumbledore was hunting horcruxes then she needed to talk to him about it, because he would understand the necessity of what she had to do. Killing him would be terrible for the entire magical world, even if it would allow her to breathe because of some skewed sense of vengeance. Killing him was impossible to everyone but he, of all people, would understand the necessity of a solution for this conundrum. They were all in the same boat, Dumbledore and Harry and her. All dead already, all set for death sooner rather than later. It was a conversation worth having and she knew this.
"I don't know it, but the Headmaster will want to talk to me." Anna answered, finally. "My name is Annabelle Lestrange, let him know I'm here."
The gargoyle scowled at her, clearly unwilling to oblige.
"Tell him I am going to kill him."
At that, the beast's eyes widened. It quickly settled back into place, face taking a very faraway look. There must be some sort of mechanism set in place, a makeshift peephole for the Headmaster. This was like ringing a doorbell, only one had to convince the doorbell to ring in the first place. She had to threaten to kill him to get it to listen, though she supposed that it would be disinclined to wake him up in the middle of the night for some girl who came knocking at random. All right, she saw the gargoyle's point. It was annoying nonetheless.
Quite suddenly, the stone moved aside. There was no sound, no creaking or scratching as it moved, and the stairwell was almost invisible in the dark. Really, it was more like an abyss was being revealed, inviting her to jump in and fall to the depths of the world. It felt like that, it felt final. It was a choice she was making, talking to him about what she was planning, about what needed to happen. Objectively speaking, she knew that she and Dumbledore were alike. They did what needed to be done, wether that was stealing and infant, training a teenager to sacrifice himself, or dying. Her choice had been made for her long ago, she just went with it. Now it was his turn.
Anna took a deep breath and started walking up the stairs, feeling her way in the darkness. She didn't want to draw her wand, not even to light her way. It was an irrational desire, she knew, but drawing it would feel like automatically putting up her shields. She didn't want to feel threatened by him, she didn't want to be afraid of him. She dined with the Dark Lord on an every day basis in the summer, she looked him in the eye and lied through her teeth, there was no reason to be more afraid of Dumbledore than she was of the Dark Lord. He was not vicious or irrational or unpredictable. She knew this, but she feared a man who did what he had to do for what was right more than a man who only thought about himself. One had a strong persuasion, a will strong enough to wipe away all doubts and moral complaints. The other? The other had but one thought in his mind and never had to overcome himself. It was different.
She reached the door and opened it without knocking. The Headmaster was sitting at his desk, lavish but flamboyant robes clashing violently with his demure surroundings and little glasses glinting in the dim light of a candelabra. He didn't speak, only looked at her in silence. She shut the door behind her and walked to stand behind the chair in front of his desk. This was the closest she'd ever been to him, that she could remember, and she noticed that he looked much older than she'd expected him to. He seemed… patiently expectant, but unsurprised. Had he been waiting for her to approach him?
Her hands gripped the smooth wood gently as she watched him. Suddenly, her mouth was dry and though she felt calm and in control, she also felt odd. It was odd that her anxiousness had suddenly vanished. Here she was, in front of the man she'd blamed for her troubles for so long, and she was suddenly no longer angry at him. Maybe she hadn't been angry at him for a long time and had wanted him dead only because of some strange sense of being owed something rather than emotional vengeance. But she could not hate him any longer. He had done cruel things and he was still doing it, but was she really any better? No. Necessity made people do horrible things, no matter what the end result might be. She understood his choices.
"We need to talk about horcruxes." Anna finally announced.