Chapter 17) A New Year

Selected Listening: The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes- Fall Out Boy

Anastasia dreamt Draco became the Triwizard Champion.

And in the first challenge he had to face a pack of wild dementors.

Draco froze, and then he ran.

He couldn't catch his breath.

Her chest tightened as the darkness closed in around her.

She had to reach him.

"Draco, NO!" she shouted and jumped awake.

But the words must not have quite reached her lips, because Hermione faced her, hands on her shoulders, shaking her, unphased.

"Yes, Anastasia! It's nearly time for breakfast. Everyone else has gone."

The girls pulled their robes on and ran down to the Great Hall where Minerva was already handing out schedules. Anastasia took hers and turned to read it. At the same time, Draco caught her eye across the room and winked at her before biting into an apple. She smiled and shook her head, relieved to see him out of her dreams and out of danger.

"Do try to keep your eyes on the books this year, and not just Malfoy," Minerva quipped. Anastasia smiled at her and nodded dutifully before running off to the breakfast table with Hermione.

She planned to ask Draco that day if he would attempt to enter.

Hermione finished her breakfast and ran off quickly so she could go to the library before class started, no doubt to look up material about house elf rights. This left Anastasia alone with the boys. Harry and Ron daydreamed aloud of becoming the Hogwarts champion, she heard Fred and George down the way, planning an aging potion with Lee Jordan. She turned to them and made sure to glare intensely at Fred before redirecting her attention back to her toast and apple jelly.

"What's with the cold shoulder?" Ron laughed. Harry stared at her questioningly.

Anastasia sighed.

"They wouldn't listen to me last night about how dangerous this tournament is, and then Fred got all up in my case about dating Draco," she said exasperatedly.

But she was blushing. She couldn't say it out loud without blushing. Though it was true, it seemed entirely unreal. She was officially Draco Malfoy's girlfriend.

"They have a right to be upset about the tournament," Ron argued. "I'd be miffed too if I was turning of age before the whole thing was done and over with, but I wasn't allowed to enter. Wouldn't you, Harry?"

Harry threw up his hands.

"I'm miffed now. Merlin knows we've faced tougher stuff in the past three years than they ever will in that tournament," Harry argued. "We didn't get a choice in any of the times Voldemort attacked us or when his minion hid as a pet for thirteen years and our teacher transformed into a werewolf, but suddenly Professor Dumbledore's concerned about us willingly entering an organized dueling game?" He complained to her as if she could do anything about it.

"It's not grandad making the rules. It's the game committee. And sure," Anastasia admitted. "We've faced worse. That doesn't mean I want to put myself in danger needlessly, and you shouldn't either," she pressed.

"One thousand galleons isn't needless," Ron reminded. "Although, maybe it is to you."

She froze. This was the second time in the past day that a Weasley boy accused her of not knowing how much money was worth, and she felt she needed to set the record straight.

"Look, Grandad doesn't really talk about money. He gives me what I need for school supplies and a little extra for spending, and that's about it," she clarified. "I'm not rich or anything."

Harry had gone quiet and was poking at his oatmeal. With his stacks of gold in Gringotts, he tried to be generous, but the Weasleys would never accept anything from him. He had no weight in the conversation.

"And that's exactly it, isn't it?" Ron pointed out, "Hogwarts takes care of you. You don't need to think about money. And even if you weren't living at Hogwarts, I'm sure you're dear godmum would take care of any of the rest. Couldn't have her goddaughter dating her son in muggle clothes, could she?"

Anastasia backed down, face bright red. She hadn't had much time to process Narcissa's motivations for their shopping spree that summer or her lies. Ron was right. Anastasia had never needed for anything related to money. Had never been desperate.

She supposed that was why the twins wanted to enter so badly.

That morning, the Gryffindor crew cringed through Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, squeezing bubobtuber pods. At the end of class, they journeyed down the grassy slopes to Care of Magical creatures, where Hagrid stood tending to a box of his next project. They gathered around to see squirming, fanged, pointy millipedes shooting themselves around in a pile in the crated.

"Blast-ended skrewts!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Just flown in yesterday"

"But what's the point of them?" The familiar voice called down the slope. Anastasia turned and smiled at Draco. He came up behind her, taking her waist, and kissed her neck as he peeked over her shoulder. She leaned into him. He squirmed immediately at the sight of the beasts.

"Well-ya' know—" Hagrid stumbled for a reason why they should take care of the miserable insects, "No snoggin' in class, Malfoy. Get your hands off yer girlfriend."

Draco rolled his eyes and dropped his arm from her waist. Anastasia looked down at her shoes in embarrassment.

"But seriously—" Draco began, "they seem pointless."

"I'm sure they could be useful for all sorts of things," Hermione vouched.

Draco shrugged, making a half-hearted attempt to agree with Anastasia's friends for once.

Hagrid beamed in appreciation at Hermione and immediately began divvying up the students into groups. He made sure to assign Anastasia and Hermione together and place them at a box as far away from Draco and Blaise as possible.

They were supposed to be discovering what the creatures ate, offering frog livers and ant eggs between their dragon-skin-gloved fingers. But the skrewts did not seem to care, other than to territorially lurch at the students' hands when they came too close. As they stood, tending to their skrewts, a horrific sound echoed across the grounds. Something between a shriek of a bat and the crash of a tidal wave.

All the students looked up from their projects to the source of the sound, clamping their ears down with their hands.

"Bloody mermaids," some of the Slytherins murmured under their breaths.

Anastasia tried to ignore them and go back to her assignment. Two of her skrewts blasted away out of her reach.

The mermaids shrieked again.

"What's that?" Dean asked. "What do they have?" More of the students stopped what they were doing and looked up. Hermione tapped her on the shoulder.

"Anastasia," she whispered and pointed to the lake. Anastasia followed Hermione's gaze to see that two mermaids had breached above the water of the Black Lake. Between them, they held a crumpled mass of cream and tan feathers.

"Crenshaw," Anastasia whispered, and her feet stumbled toward him. "Crenshaw!" she yelled back at the mermaids, who stopped shrieking when they realized they had a human's attention. She tore across the lawn, robe rippling in the air behind her.

She dropped to her knees at the shore beside the creatures. They held up the depleted, dripping owl. His wing had been bent back at an angle and his opposite foot twisted up at the joint. His black orbs of eyes fluttered shut. Several of his feathers stuck out askew.

He was weak, but alive.

"Crenshaw," she whimpered and took the bird from the mermaids. His dampened feathers leaned against the security of her breast.

Anastasia made a noise back at the mermaids. She either said "thank you" or "telephone booth," but even if it was the latter, they seemed to get the hint and swam away.

"What happened to you?" she asked the owl. But the owl only leaned further against her. His dampened state leaking onto the front of her robes. She cradled him in one arm and drew her wand with the other, casting a quick drying spell.

Anastasia looked back to her classmates. She found Draco had walked half the distance towards her and stared at her hopelessly. She walked a few steps back and paused as she reached him.

"Anastasia, I don't know what happened. The last time I saw him, he was fine," Draco raised his fingertips to stroke the head of the owl. Crenshaw cooed faintly. "Where's my note?" he asked, but Anastasia drew away. She didn't know whether to believe him or not.

"I need Hagrid," she said and ran the rest of the way back to the class where the half giant stared on curiously.

"Hagrid, Crenshaw, he's—something's happened to him."

Hagrid nodded.

"I'm not great with healing birds, but I can try. Bring 'em inside. Class, when yer finished with yer skrewts and cleaned up, yer dismissed."

Anastasia followed Hagrid into the familiar and cozy space. She cradled Crenshaw until they reached the table and she laid him on the crocheted centerpiece. Fang growled at the table as if Hagrid brought him dinner.

Hagrid extended a giant finger and slowly stroked the lines of the wing structure.

"It's broken alright. I'll have ta…well it's better if you look away."

Hagrid took out his umbrella and aimed it at Crenshaw. Anastasia turned her head toward the window. There was a flash of light, and when she looked back, his wing had been straightened out into its original position. So had his foot.

Hagrid took out a roll of bandages and wrapped them around the broken wing and foot.

"There, now he'll heal in the right places…as long as it doesn't get infected…" he said. Anastasia winced. "Fang will go after 'em if you leave 'em here. Take 'em to the owlery and put 'em in a nesting box. I'll take care of the beast there for you until he's strong enough to fly again, but I can't make any promises."

She nodded.

"Thanks, Hagrid. Do you know what happened to him?" she asked pleadingly.

Hagrid shook his head.

"Couldn't tell ya. Either hit by a spell or ran into an airplane."

Anastasia winced and scooped Crenshaw up again. The owl relaxed now and began to nod off. She turned to go, but Hagrid cleared his throat.

"Seriously, Stasia. Sure yev got the lifeline en all that, but don't you think you of all people could do better 'an Malfoy?" Hagrid asked.

Anastasia turned over her shoulder to snap at him, but then saw his warm teasing smile. She smirked back.

"Just tell em if he gets too handsy, I can remove those for him," he waved his pink umbrella playfully.

"Goodbye, Hagrid!" she sang with an embarrassed grin and closed the door behind her.

Anastasia walked up on her own to the owlery with a heavy bundle and a heavy heart. If Draco hadn't cursed Crenshaw, then who had? Crenshaw was smart enough not to fly into a plane. She found an empty nesting box, filled it with soft hay, and lay Crenshaw in the middle of it. She left a few dead mice beside him for when he woke up, along with a dish of water.

"There you go, boy. I'll be back."

Anastasia wandered down the back staircase, deciding to get to the first floor and cut through the unused wing back to the castle. When she reached the bottom and turned the corner into the main corridor, she walked through an icy draft.

"Who are you?" the shuddering voice demanded. "What are you doing here?"

Anastasia reeled around to find a ghost—one that she hadn't seen before—the ghost of a beautiful woman with long, curled hair that fell down to her waist and a medieval style royal dress.

"Um…I'm Anastasia Dumbledore…and I'm a student…and I—I live here," she said.

"You're the invisible one…the obscurus…other headmaster's daughter."

Anastasia cringed.

"Yes, I mean…the other headmaster's daughter?" she questioned…

"Well, I was the first."

"Oh, who—?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw. My name is Helena Ravenclaw."

"Oh!" Anastasia gawked. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be-?" She pointed to the sky as if the afterlife hung there above them.

"You ask too many questions. I live her to be on my own and not be bothered by students."

"Right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

The ghost folded her arms and looked away like she might have intended to say more but chose not to.

"Just leave."

"Alright."

And Anastasia departed for her afternoon classes.

Though she was still disoriented from everything happening that day, Anastasia found an afternoon of ancient runes and arithmancy grounding. Even when she had to sit next to Justin Finch-Fletchley in the former and explain that she hadn't gone to blood purist institutions on purpose that summer. Surprisingly, he believed her.

"I trust you, Dumbledore. You've proved your worth with your help on the petition last year…still not sure why you're dating Draco Malfoy of all people…but you must have your reasons. You do, don't you?"

She nodded. "It's a bit difficult to explain."

He shrugged, "You don't need to defend yourself for my sake. It's none of my business."

She supposed that was one good thing about Hufflepuffs. No gossip policy.


Anastasia walked down to the great hall for dinner, exhausted with the course of the day. She looked forward to a warm, peaceful meal, but a large crowd of students had gathered at the entryway, and they were shouting.

A sharp pain hit Anastasia's neck, and her back and her leg. She immediately began searching for Draco, but he was nowhere in sight. She had to assume that he was at the center, brawling with another student, most likely Harry or Ron.

"Stop!" she ran forward, elbowing people aside, "Stop fighting!"

But when Anastasia reached the eye of the storm, she didn't find a squabble between her best friends and her boyfriend. Although, her friends stared on in varied levels of stunned amazement.

She found Mad-Eye Moody thrashing a small white ferret against the marble floor, and with each hit, she felt it in her back.

"STOP!" she screamed at the professor, twitching. He finally flinched, grinning evilly as the ferret now dangled in the air, eyes spinning.

"What, Dumbledore? Don't like it when your boy toy gets what's coming to em?"

Anastasia couldn't even react to the sheer brutishness of Moody's comment.

"What is going on?" Minerva said, striding up next to Anastasia and glaring at the teacher. Anastasia gestured desperately to the ferret on the ground.

Minerva scolded Moody for using transfiguration as a punishment—although Anastasia was more concerned with the physical violence—and restored Draco to his previous form. Anastasia rushed to embrace him. He caught her.

"I-I'm okay…" Draco tried to soothe, but she had already felt the injury.

"He tried to curse Potter while his back was turned!" Moody claimed.

Anastasia pulled away from him immediately, "You what?"

Draco smiled guiltily at her. She scoffed.

"Alastor, you must take it up with the student's head of house. It's why we have detention. Not these medieval methods of torture," Minerva scolded.

"Fine! Malfoy, who's your head of house?" Moody demanded.

"Snape," Malfoy grumbled.

"Alright then, come on." The old professor gestured at Draco to follow him.

Draco stole a kiss on Anastasia's head before she could object. A chorus of onlookers whistled and oohed. Anastasia blushed.

"I'll catch up with you later," Draco said and disappeared into the crowd with Moody.

Minerva raised her trademark eyebrow and mumbled about how the "boy's got nerve." Before walking to Anastasia.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Anastasia nodded slightly. She wasn't really alright. Her neck hurt and her back ached. She was already exhausted from keeping up with how many times her boyfriend enraged her peers. Now she had a half-dead owl and one of the twins wasn't talking to her. Outstanding start to the year.

Minerva went on her way, and the other Gryffindors encircled her.

"Did you hear him, Stasia? He insulted our mum!" Ron shouted. "And our house, and dad!"

"He nearly took my ear off," Harry complained.

Hermione winced, knowing her words would hurt, "It was really awful."

Anastasia stared at all her friends and grew more embarrassed by the second.

"Fine! I get it! He's horrible. Suppose that makes it okay for a teacher to beat him up?"

And then she broke away, vanishing into the crowds.