Chapter 36) Guilt and Forge

Selected Listening: What the Water Gave Me- Florence and the Machine

"I might be out a bit later," Anastasia told Hermione that Sunday evening before she left the common room. "Grandad said he wanted me to work on more mermish training. It might take a while."

Hermione looked over her book from the armchair. "Well at least now we know it's good for something. You're not wasting your time it seems."

"Suppose not," Anastasia said and stepped halfway out of the porthole. Her voice trembled slightly. "Could you tell Fred where I am if he asks?"

"Sure," Hermione chimed and went back to studying.

Anastasia only felt a bit guilty.

At dinner, Anastasia told Albus some of her friends' theories about who might have tried to kill her.

"Do you think it may have been Karkaroff? Or another Durmstrang student taking revenge?"

Albus shook his head furiously.

"No, no, Karakoff is retired…" he drifted off.

"Retired from what?" she asked.

Albus narrowed his eyes and thought hard.

"For now, keep your distance from him, even moreso than usual."

"He's a deatheater, isn't he? That's why his students learn dark magic."

"Ex-death eater," he clarified, drinking from his water goblet. "Much like Lucius Malfoy, he ratted out his co-members and bought his freedom that way. Durmstrang has always entertained dark magic as a subject."

After Albus left, Anastasia stayed in the kitchens, studying for the defense exam on hex deflection. She and Draco would have to strategize to keep their classmates from catching on if they were hit with Moody's spells—which she was almost certain they would be. She stayed until 9:45, putting on her invisibility cloak and escaping to the library. She wandered the aisles, remembering what it was like to be thought of as a ghost in the castle. So peaceful were those times compared to the present.

Right before she reached the restricted section, a shadow moved against the moonlight falling through the window. She jumped. The floor underneath her creaked.

"I was wondering if you would show," Draco said as he faced her. Anastasia removed the cloak and bundled it under her arm. Here in the library, she could almost imagine it was the previous year, and they were having study sessions together without anyone else.

"I'm the one who suggested it aren't I? Or were you afraid I'd call Filch to get you into trouble instead?" she jibed. Draco scoffed.

"That was long ago, Princess. Are we here to dig up childhood grievances or are you going to explain about how you almost drowned the other day?" he asked spitefully.

"Right," she said. She told him everything that happened, and what the merperson told her at the end. Draco's eyes glowered as he took in each word.

"I should have never thrown that stupid music player in the lake," he cursed, hands curling into fists.

"Suppose not," she agreed and leaned up against the chairs tucked under the desks. "Now whoever has it is going to try and use it against me."

"But someone big and with a coat?" he began pacing. "That could be a lot of people. The question is, who out of those people is also half mermaid, and who out of those people, is after you," he pointed to her.

"Grandad said no one here is a half-mermaid. After all, you can tell when people are mixed species. It's obvious. Like with Fleur Delacour, and with—"

"The oaf."

"Hagrid's not an oaf."

"He's half giant...that's half something."

"Not half mermaid, and he doesn't want to kill me."

"Fine, well that leaves us with who is actually after you...in this case...who would that be?"

Anastasia told him her theory about Karkaroff.

"But if that's the case, why not come after me or Weasley? We're the ones who got the students into trouble."

Anastasia shrugged. "Maybe he wants to get back more at grandad for the punishment than the two of you for protecting me."

Draco paused, looking towards the door, he wasn't so convinced. "What about Professor Moody?"

Anastasia felt a stitch in her chest.

"Moody? What would he get from killing me? Grandad is his boss," she reminded, but she could feel the fear in her voice now. His eyes flashed back to her.

"That didn't scare him when he made you impale yourself to prove he figured out the lifeline… and he does wear a rather large coat," Draco pointed out. Anastasia's throat constricted as she considered the possibilities. She fumbled for an excuse. She didn't want it to be someone she had to see every day, someone she was required to respect.

"He's hasn't bothered us since," she excused. Only Harry had run into Moody in the hallway…and Harry had given him the marauder's map. If it was him, he could have been tracking her. She couldn't tell Draco about that.

"I suppose..." Draco appeared unconvinced, "but I still have a bad feeling about him. He looks at me like...like he'd rather crush me into floo powder. Maybe it's just because he couldn't put my father in Azkaban all those years ago."

Anastasia felt ill. In the pit of her stomach, she felt that Draco was right, but she couldn't tell why. What could Moody possibly gain from killing her, other than proving she was horrible at self-defense?

Draco took a step closer, drawing his hand down through her hair and along the side of her face. He touched her other arm with his hand. She felt the lifeline pull her towards him, the heat radiate between them, undaunted, despite her newfound guilt. His face came close enough to kiss her.

"You're scared?" he asked when he felt her trembling. "You can't be scared. You're the brave one, remember?"

Anastasia wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, let him hold her around the waist, and squeeze her close. She wanted to never let go. But she couldn't do that to Fred.

"Be careful out there, princess," Draco whispered, breath dancing over her face, "I'm not ready to lose you yet…or us."

A shiver ran through her as he gently pushed her away and walked towards the exit. She closed her eyes and glued her feet to the library floorboards to keep from running to him.

She couldn't deny that she wanted to...

The morning of the second task, high in the stands, Anastasia clung tight to Fred's arm, searching the water below for their friends. Ginny and Neville stood on her left and George on the other side of Fred. The chilly February wind whipped around them. Harry had already dove in with the other champions. Fred wore his gambling counter contraption, and he and George continued calling for bets on whether The Boy Who Lived would continue living.

"It's still not funny," she argued as Dean and Seamus placed theirs.

"Your dad isn't going to let anyone die," Fred argued and gave Seamus his change.

"Grandad didn't want to have this contest in the first place," she countered.

"Relax, Stasia," George said. "To be fair, Harry would want us to have the money either way."

Anastasia gave up, let go of Fred, and continued watching anxiously with Ginny.

"See anything yet?" she asked.

"No…not really…although it's kind of hard to tell." Anastasia saw what she meant. The light kept reflecting on shadows and highlights just below the surface. They couldn't tell whether they were seeing competitors, mermaids, or plain old fish.

"Just don't tell me!" Neville said, covering his eyes with his herbology book.

"Neville, if we don't tell you and you can't see, how are you supposed to find out?" Anastasia asked.

"They'll announce it when they're ready," he said shakily.

Finally, after an hour had passed, the competitors returned. Fleur turned up on the dock first without her sister, sobbing. Ginny shared an anxious glance with Anastasia. Following Fleur came Cedric, a minute late with Cho. The crowd cheered. Hufflepuff especially, and the Gryffindors joined them. The came Krum with Hermione, followed closely by Harry with Ron and Fleur's little sister.

As soon as Albus had announced Harry's score correction and the overall Hogwarts win, Anastasia ran down to greet the others. As she moved through the crowd, she noticed Krum trying desperately to speak to Hermione and get a beetle out of her hair, but Hermione was too excited about Harry's win to pay any attention to him. Anastasia felt sort of bad for the guy, and as she waited her turn, she couldn't help trying to make conversation.

"Tough being the outsider, isn't it?" she asked, reaching in for the beetle with a more delicate grasp than Viktor, and gently untangling the strands from its spikey legs. It was an odd beetle, bright green, familiar.

A memory flashed in her mind's eye as it flew away. That of the salon and the restaurant and the tea shop.

"Yes…" Viktor drawled. "Are they always like this?"

"Um," Anastasia shook her head from her thoughts to process his question, "very much so. Since first year really."

Viktor took a step back from her.

"I'm sorry about my classmates. They're brutes," he apologized with a half-bow.

"Thank you, but it's alright," she replied, "unfortunately there are those at Hogwarts who would do the same if they were intelligent enough to succeed."

An irritable Karkaroff moved to lambast Krum about his less-than-stellar win, and Anastasia got out of the Bulgarian headmaster's way in case he wanted to shove her in the lake again.

"See!" Hermione said, turning to Anastasia. "Harry was fine. He stayed down because he wanted to make sure everyone was safe. It didn't have anything to do with that seaweed you were talking about."

"Kelp…" Anastasia corrected, "but alright." She let out a deep breath. "Congratulations, Harry!" And damp as they were, she hugged all three of them.

Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe the saboteur curse didn't hurt anyone at all. Maybe Ron was right and it was entirely a myth. She had nearly convinced herself of it when they passed Fleur greeting her classmates.

"If zat wild kelp didn't tangle up my leg, I would have beaten zose Grindylows. Look at what it zid to me!" The young woman gestured to her calf, where a bright red stripe was wrapped diagonally around it.

Anastasia turned to her friends, horrified. They all winced, unable to argue with the evidence.

"I can't do this," Anastasia said, and ran off to find Albus.

Despite Anastasia begging Albus to send her anywhere to finish the semester—assisting Wilhemina at the unicorn ranch, following Newt around in his expeditions, even spending it alone at shell cottage—Albus was firm in his answer.

"Anastasia, you cannot be afraid of the person who is after you or the saboteur curse. Really, no one has been harmed. Maybe given a fright or minor injuries, but nothing serious. And if the curse is as strong as the magical contracts the champions are bound to, it will not matter where you travel. Something will happen to affect the other champions no matter what."

At that, Anastasia could only give a helpless whine and leave his presence.

Within the next few days, Skeeter had come up with more lies, now about Hermione cheating on Krum with Harry. Hermione took it in stride up until Snape grabbed the article and began reading it aloud in front of the class. Anastasia glared him down, her hand on Hermione's arm supportively as the girl turned bright red in embarrassment. But Anastasia hadn't caught the subsection about her breakup with Draco until Snape also read that aloud.

"It has also been made clear that Anastasia Dumbledore, who recently declared her love for Draco Malfoy in a Witch Weekly cover feature, is quite the harlot—according to Slytherin resident, Pansy Parkinson. A broken-hearted Draco Malfoy has already dumped the princess of the castle, after having caught the girl cheating scandalously—"

"I didn't cheat," Anastasia started, blushing furiously. "And Skeeter's a little late on the draw this time. Isn't she?"

"—with elder Gryffindor student, Forge Weasley."

"Forge?" The Gryffindors said at once, the mistake being so funny, they couldn't stop laughing. Snape's initial humiliation tactic having backfired, he took ten points for each of them and sent them to new partners for the class period.

"Granger, Parkinson. Potter, Goyle. Weasley, Crabbe. And Dumbledore—"

She rolled her eyes preemptively. "Right, right, I'll go," she gathered her things, face still red, and headed over to Draco's table at the front of the classroom. He narrowed his eyes at her as she approached and then began drawing out potion ingredients from his rucksack.

"You can't be angry with me for the article," she whispered as she removed her own share of the ingredients and began chopping. "I didn't come up with that dragon dung."

"Course I know that," Draco spat. "I wish it hadn't happened at all. The breakup or the article. Pansy's lies don't make me feel any better."

Anastasia looked up at him morosely but didn't say anything more. Despite their current dislike for each other causing absolute silence, they kept good time at the potions counter—cutting and handing things to each other effortlessly as if they'd been doing it their entire lives.

The class went smoothly until Karkaraoff barged in ten minutes before the bell, hounding Snape to talk to him and clutching his forearm. Snape saw his students gawking at the odd behavior and sent Karkaroff to wait on a stool in the corner. If she hadn't been so afraid that the Durmstrang headmaster was out to murder her, she might have laughed about the powerful wizard looking like he was in timeout.

Anastasia subconsciously scooted closer to Draco. It made her feel at least a little bit safer. The comforting scent of mint and earl grey tea hit her immediately. Karkaroff didn't seem to notice them until he looked up and saw Draco glaring daggers. Karkaroff seethed but avoided his gaze.

"Malfoy, Dumbledore, high marks." Snape said as he checked off their completed wit-sharpening potion. "That will help your slowly disintegrating potions grade, Malfoy."

"What? Pansy not the best lab partner?" she commented smoothly as Snape walked away.

"Don't rub it in," Draco said, forcefully putting his materials away. "We still have to pass the defense test."

Anastasia nearly forgot about the hex-deflection exam. She turned back to Draco to ask if he had thought of any strategies, but he had already vanished.

Harry had arranged for the group to meet Sirius on the next visit to Hogsmeade. So on Saturday, Anastasia came up with the excuse to Fred that she needed to spend more time with Hermione to make her feel better about Skeeter's article.

"What about me?" Fred joked, feigning insult as the Gryffindor group walked down the path towards the village. "Now I'm Forge."

"You're not Forge, she left you for Forge," George corrected the quickly developing backstory on their imaginary brother. "And really, how can you blame her? He's graduating top of the class and already signed with the Kenmare Kestrels."

"What?" Anastasia asked, grinning.

"McGonagall says if they make one more joke about their elder brother Forge in class, they'll lose 30 points apiece, for Forge too," Lee grinned.

Anastasia turned politely to Fred with a playful smile, holding one of his hands in both of hers.

"Look, I know you're a really good person, and Forge is too, but lately I've only been interested in—Gred." She swooned dramatically and split off the crowd with her friends, hearing the twin's dramatic defeat echo behind her.

They came to the edge of the village where a familiar black dog waited at the base of a mountain pass. The dog nearly smiled and trotted up to Harry in greeting as well as Ron and Hermione, letting them pat his head in turn, but when he saw Anastasia, he pointed at her with his nose, looked up at Harry, and whined.

"It's fine, Sirius. She broke up with Malfoy anyway," Harry whispered the last part, but she still heard it. Sirus's ears picked up curiously, paced around her sniffing, and when he finally decided she was trustworthy, let her pat his head as well.

"Uh, good boy?" she said. "I promise I won't rat you out to your family."

Sirius snorted.

"Sorry, poor choice of words. I promise I won't say anythingto the Malfoys about your whereabouts."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Sirius returned to his godson's side and led the charge up the mountain.

In his cave hovel, despite his sickly and disheveled appearance and foul smell, Sirius talked to them about all sorts of things. The mysteries of what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, Mr. Crouch and his death eater son, and finally who would be responsible for placing Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire.

"Look, even I don't know why Dumbledore trusts Snape enough to let him teach at the school." Sirius looked to Anastasia questioningly. She obliged.

"Grandad has had to make a lot of questionable hiring decisions. First, the defense against the dark arts position is super cursed."

"Cursed?!" Ron asked. Hermione and Harry shared his bewilderment. Anastasia shrugged.

"We can never keep someone for more than a year, and it's because Tom Riddle applied for the position before he was Voldemort and my father refused to give it to him."

"Why didn't you ever tell us that before?" Harry asked. Anastasia rolled her eyes.

"Because with my identity hidden, I couldn't have told you until third year anyway, and by then, we were fine with Lupin."

"You could have said you read it in a book," Harry complained. "We wouldn't have checked! We would have been suspicious of Lockhart and Quirrell from the start!"

Hermione shook her head at Harry's planned ignorance.

"Did Remus know?" Sirius asked. Anastasia nodded.

"Professor Lupin mainly took the position to protect Harry…from you…before we knew you were framed. He knew it would only be temporary…"

Sirius glanced at Harry, obviously regretting the lost time from his false conviction, and time he was still losing having to hide from the world. Anastasia continued.

"Anyway, I wouldn't be surprised if there's something odd about Snape's position. Every year, Snape applies for the defense class, and grandad rejects it saying he needs more experience. It's like he's…saving him for something."

"Like what, I wonder?" Sirius asked.

"I'm not sure. He's been a total arse this year," she complained. "If I were in grandad's position, I would have let him be cursed already."

"She's the only one Snape will let insult him," Ron observed out loud, pointing to Anastasia. "She can snark him without losing any points, can't you 'Stasia? And he let you and Malfoy off with an easy grade the other day. I'll bet it's because he's afraid he won't get the dark arts position if he gets you into trouble."

"Maybe," Sirius mused, "Dumbledore's known to play favorites."

"Hey, we worked for that grade," Anastasia protested, "No, there's something else. Hermione's right, Snape's saved Harry multiple times. And…last year…if he hadn't intervened with the dementors, Draco and I would have been as brain dead as Hagrid's cabbages."

Yes, there was something odd with Snape indeed, but no matter how incendiary his comments, he wasn't the one out to kill them.

When the conversation turned to Moody and his defense talents, Anastasia gave an unimpressed grumble, which turned into an awkward silence until she explained.

"Draco thinks Moody is the one who tried to drown me…and I'm starting to agree with him."

"What?" Harry asked. "But he's helped loads of us. He helped me with the first task, and he helped Neville get that book on plants."

"Yeah, and he's not half-mermaid!" Ron protested.

"But you're forgetting…" Hermione started.

"Moody had me stab myself on a chandelier at the beginning of the year."

Sirius started asking questions and Anastasia explained. Even he thought it was odd, but Ron and Harry defended Moody so viscerally that even Hermione and Sirius believed it was just "Moody exposing them to the real world," and Anastasia was forced to say nothing more about her suspicions.

"Besides, how are you talking at length with Malfoy recently?" Ron asked defensively.

"We've had to make time," Anastasia admitted. "We do have a test coming up where Moody's likely to hex us in front of everyone. And it's not like it's only my life on the line with a murderer on the loose."

Hermione frowned disapprovingly, having realized her lie from earlier that month.

"She's right, Ron," Sirius said supportively. "No matter how much you loathe Malfoy or think it's unfair to…what's your brother's name? Forge? They can't risk more people finding out about a weakness like that. It's too dangerous."

And the Gryffindors, laughing to the point of tears, found they couldn't argue further.

When they returned from Hogsmeade, Anastasia found a familiar black owl at her window with a letter.

Dear Anastasia,

You are cordially invited to our annual Easter lunch at Malfoy Manor…

Narcissa had sent a separate letter explaining she wasn't angry, and she wanted Anastasia present as her goddaughter. It was the perfect chance to use the truth potion. The perfect chance to ask the question and uncover Narcissa's true motives.

Anastasia took a deep breath, marked "yes," and sent the reply.