Chapter 15: In Front of Friends

Selected Listening: She Had the World- Panic! At the Disco

The last days of summer passed in a stressful haze. Of course, the Weasley children and their guests tried to keep light spirits by interjecting the long afternoons with spurts of quidditch or degnoming the garden, but they would always reenter the house, see the clock, and gaze at the spoons for Percy and Mr. Weasley, which seemed permanently stuck on "work."

Anastasia often kept vigil alongside Hermione and Ginny, finishing their last bits of homework, but their conversations were not as friendly as they had been in the past. How could they be? She was dating a boy who had tormented them for years, whose family had threatened their lives. She felt as if she were just trying to survive her interactions with the Gryffindor girls instead of enjoying them, that her short hair and new associations had drawn a line between them forever. She was not a mermaid or a human, but something in between that neither side could make sense of.

The boys' reactions were no better. Fred and George holed up in their bedroom, obviously inventing things under the guise of studying. When she knocked, hoping to join them, George came to the door with his arms folded and a grin.

"Why are you gracing us with your presence today, princess?" George asked.

"I was wondering if I could help? With whatever you're doing?" She pulled at her striped sleeves, trying not to look pitiful, but ultimately failing.

"Not sure why we would need help. Studying for NEWTS is all, so we can get good-paying Ministry jobs," he finished sarcastically. "Like dear brother Percy tells us are so important."

Anastasia sighed and pulled out her sweetest puppy-eyed glance to try and sway him. She saw something give in his stance, and he attempted to reason with his brother.

"She wants in, Freddie," George called.

Anastasia couldn't hear Fred's response. She tried to peek around George's form, blocking the doorway, but she only caught sight of one of Fred's eyes in a harsh glare.

George turned back to her.

"Sorry, Stasia. He's been a bit stubborn lately."

And then he left her on the rickety wooden staircase.

This left her with Ron and Harry, who tended to want to spend more time with each other than her. She tried to tail along and join in on conversation, but it would often end in Ron ogling at her in a very obvious "I want to spend time with my best friend alone, without girls, thank you very much," way. So, she would stop and find a spot to read by herself or simply lay down in the grass and stare up at the sky, trying to banish the green glowing skull with the spiraling snake out of her head.

When she was not spending time with her friends, or wishing the twins would let her in on the prank-making again, she sat staring out the window, hoping Crenshaw would arrive soon.

"It can't take that long to get there and back," Anastasia muttered to herself one day. Her mind now began inventing what could possibly have happened. Crenshaw got lost due to wards around the manor? Draco was keeping Crenshaw out of revenge? Crenshaw was mad at her and didn't want to return? She had hoped to send a letter to check in with granddad after Crenshaw returned with Draco's response, but no matter how long she waited, the bird's presence did not grace the clouded horizon.

At the same time, Harry was keeping watch for Hedwig, whom he had sent with a note to Sirius Black.

"They'll make it back in time," Anastasia said in a tone tinged in positivity when she saw the same worry in Harry's expression that hung in hers.

"Hope so…" Harry said shortly, "…if they come to the Burrow after we leave, will take even longer to get Sirius's message."

Hedwig and Crenshaw were intelligent creatures. They would eventually come back to the Burrow, empty-clawed or not. Still, Anastasia couldn't help but wonder what was keeping them.

On the drizzly morning of September 1st, the owls still haven't arrived yet. The group went down for breakfast, shoveling down pancakes and tea. Mr. Weasley had finally come home the night before and was nursing a migraine with coffee when Amos Diggory's head appeared in the fireplace to report that Mad Eye Moody had been attacked in his own home. After Arthur apparated away, Mr. Diggory apologized to Molly profusely for the bother.

Anastasia began listening carefully as the others discussed.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" asked Charlie.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, isn't he?" said Fred. Anastasia looked up from her book with a sharp glare, and he quickly covered with, "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything…"

Harry asked who Moody was, and Charlie explained all the work Moody did with the aurors when Voldemort was at large and how as of recent, he was mainly paranoid.

"He's our new defense against the dark arts teacher," Anastasia dropped boredly.

Heads snapped around.

"Really?" Ginny asked, eyebrows raised. It was the first time anyone seemed interested in what she had to say for days.

"Yes, really. I went and met him with grandad before."

"From what Bill's said, he's barmy," Ron commented, "Can't walk two steps without looking over his shoulder."

"He is barmy," Bill emphasized, "and brilliant."

"He's a bit…intense…" she agreed, "but he's good with dueling and grandad thinks we need it."

"Thanks to whoever pulled the stunt at the World Cup, now we really do need it," Hermione said in an implying tone.

"Yes," Anastasia agreed, knowing she would get nowhere by arguing that case. "You're right."

They departed The Burrow by muggle taxi. Anastasia crammed in with the twins, Crenshaw's empty cage on her lap, and they bumped along the gravel paths until the taxis' tires rolled onto paved roads leading to the city.

"Where's your owl?" Fred asked. George had made sure to get in last, so Fred was in the middle, pushing Anastasia against the door uncomfortably.

"Not sure…on the way back, I suppose," she said grimly. Fred scoffed.

"If Malfoy has him, he's probably a dark arts project by now."

Anastasia did her best to avoid Fred's eye contact as tears welled in her eyes.

"He wouldn't do that," she said as confidently as she could.

Anastasia hoped Crenshaw was alright. She hoped Draco wasn't too mad at her. But then again, maybe they weren't meant to be. A stitch of anxiety gripped her chest.

At Platform 9 and Three-Quarters, the older Weasley's sent them off with a dubious Hope you have fun! It was clear at that point that all the adults knew what was happening at Hogwarts this year and were keeping it from the students out of enjoyment. Anastasia loaded her empty cage into the compartment where they were sitting.

As the train took off, and the rain beat harder on the windows, Anastasia discussed the possibilities with the others. What exactly was going on at Hogwarts?

"It's why I had to go to the Malfoy's in the first place," she explained, "Grandad would have had to send me somewhere, because I wasn't allowed in the headmaster's suite while they were meeting. He said it would have been like cheating."

"Cheating?" Ron asked.

"So, it is a game!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's why Ludo Bagman is involved and almost told us the other day."

"But what kind of game could it be?" Harry asked. "We already have quidditch. Isn't that enough?"

It was then Anastasia heard a voice she loved in a tone she loathed: Draco, talking to his friends, in the compartment next door.

"Of course, father almost sent me to Durmstrang this term, with all the Sirius Black nonsense last year and the Chamber of Secrets before that? Father doesn't know if Dumbledore is really with it anymore."

Anastasia felt her eyes go hot white with rage.

"Dumbledore my arse!" Anastasia yelled and shot into the next compartment before he could say anything more. Draco whipped around from where he had been standing, his eyes wide. "You know as well as I that your father threatened to send you there if you didn't break up with me. It has nothing to do with grandad."

A smirk grew on Draco's face.

"Don't be so cross, princess. Just having a bit of fun is all," he leered, getting a kick out of her reaction. The boys chuckled. Heart stung, she forced the next words from her mouth.

"Where's Crenshaw?" she demanded "What did you do with my owl? I sent him to you, and he never came back."

Draco's smirk disappeared and genuine concern flooded his expression. He grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her out of the compartment.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a whisper, keeping one hand on her back. "I sent him back to you, with a letter."

Anastasia couldn't help the tears from flooding her vision. She neglected her owl all summer and then lost it.

"But if you sent him back…then what happened to him?" she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Draco leaned in closer and let his hands graze the sides of her face, down to her shoulders.

"I-I dunno…Anastasia. Please, I didn't do anything to hurt your owl. Really. And I'm sorry about what happened at the World Cup, but I knew I couldn't run, and I couldn't tell your lot about my condition, and everything came out wrong."

Anastasia shook her head.

"That's a shoddy excuse for saying what you did. And now you're ragging on grandad to your friends? Instead of telling them the truth? Why? Because you want to make it look like you wanted to go to Durmstrang? Is it so embarrassing that we're together that you can't tell them?"

She finished wiping her eyes and took a deep breath. Summer love was fun, but it needed to end here.

"Stasia—" he drifted off, "wait."

Before she could say the words to undo what they'd done, he took her by the wrist and guided her back to the compartment.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he opened the door to his friends again, who had been watching through the compartment window with eavesdropping ears. Pansy looked particularly excited by Anastasia's teary gaze.

Draco leaned down and kissed Anastasia. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she found herself acclimating, and let him pull her closer. When he finally broke away, she lost her breath.

"Listen up, I'm dating Anastasia now. So, if anyone has anything to say about it, say it now!" He raised his wand at them threateningly.

Pansy wailed and fled the compartment. Draco scoffed.

"And if I hear anyone call her Dumblebrat again, I'll curse your mouth right off."

Anastasia couldn't hide her smile.

"There, am I forgiven?" he asked. She stole a quick kiss on his cheek.

"A little."

Draco beamed.

"Should we go tell your friends too?" he asked excitedly.

"They already know. The game the other night?"

"I think they could use an extra reminder…or proof," Draco's relieved expression turned to deviousness as he ran to the next compartment and slid the door open.

"Draco, wait!" Anastasia caught his arm. He grinned down at her teasingly. She blushed.

"Why don't you leave us alone and keep terrorizing your own people?" Ron asked.

"That's not very kind, Weasley. Especially considering the theme of this year, wizarding togetherness and all that."

"Theme?" Harry asked.

"I thought the theme of the year was covering up your father's blood purist terrorist activities by dating the headmaster's daughter," Hermione said poignantly.

Draco fumed.

"How dare you insinuate—?" He started but caught Anastasia's warning glance and recomposed himself. "The comment the other night was in jest, Granger. Course my father wasn't part of that riff raff. But what isn't in jest is that it's obvious you lot don't know about what's happening this year at Hogwarts. I'd thought surely, she'd tell you by now," Draco implied towards Anastasia. She could only stare back, confused.

"Oh, you still don't know either?" he added with a smirk. "It's at your own castle, Anastasia. Surely you can do more snooping than that?"

She hated how even when he was teasing her, he still left her short of breath.

"I wasn't exactly there the past month," she reminded him and then turned back to her friends, "We've determined it's some sort of game."

"It must be a dangerous game," Hermione stated. "Because Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Percy knew about it first: a curse breaker, a misuse of magical artifacts officer, and Mr. Crouch's assistant."

Draco leaned against the compartment door slot and folded his arms, grinningly, not giving anything away. Anastasia turned to him, pointing.

"And your father said no one under 17 this time, which means it has to be for the oldest students," she concluded. Draco tilted his head, with a stronger smirk.

"And we have to wear dress robes—which means it's going to be a particularly formal game…for the eldest students…that we all still have to attend?" Harry concluded confusedly. Ron shuddered, staring at his own dress robes, which he had fashioned as a drapery on his new owl's cage.

"All the better for me," Draco said, stealing another kiss on Anastasia's cheek. "See you on the dance floor, princess."

Draco disappeared back to the compartment with the Slytherins. Her friends stared back, disgusted, dumbfounded, ill.

"Dance floor?" she chirped. Would they have to compete in dancing? Or simply participate while the eldest competed?

It sounded worse than sticking one's head into an exploding cauldron.