Chapter 27) In Truth

Selected Listening: Dreaming My Dreams- The Cranberries

Author's Note: I had to move my YouTube playlists to a new account. If you want to listen to all the music for the current story, find this playlist by searching for user (atsymbol)dumblebrat or the full title of the story in YouTube. I'll switch the other playlists over to the new account later, but they are still available if you search for the user (atsymbol)anastasiadumbledore. Thanks!


Anastasia didn't have time to use the veritaserum on Narcissa before she returned to Hogwarts. She carried her dress box in both hands, all the way back across the castle and up to the dorm. There, she found Ginny and Hermione, gossiping in the girls' bedroom.

"There you are!" Ginny said exasperatedly, standing with her back against the dresser. The snow fell softly outside, dusting the land in a veil of peace. The torches on the wall cast an orange glow over their conversation, doing their best to outweigh the sun setting earlier in the winter evening.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked as her eyes ogled the box. "Snape couldn't have given you detention for that long."

"No, actually. Narcissa took me to Madame Zabini's to get a dress for the Yule Ball," Anastasia explained, placing the dress box on her bed.

"But doesn't this mean you have two?" Hermione asked. Anastasia just nodded. The red head rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, stop trying to distract me," Ginny snapped and turned to Anastasia. "Maybe you can convince this one to tell us who she's going to the Yule ball with."

It was obvious. Hermione had been dodging the question. She looked up nervously from the pile of books. Now that her best friend was in the room, she couldn't avoid it any longer.

"Isn't it someone from Durmstrang?" Anastasia asked, sitting next to the box on her own bed.

"It's um…Viktor Krum…he asked me," Hermione said sheepishly.

Ginny and Anastasia gauged each other's expressions, determining if she was joking or not. Finally, they mutually decided it was better to assume she was serious rather than to laugh.

"Congratulations," Anastasia stuttered hesitantly. "Is he—"

"Into dark magic? No, nothing of the sort. He thinks it's a waste of time, which is why he's usually studying in the library with me instead of running around with his classmates. If you ask me, it's why Karkaroff chose him in the first place. He doesn't need cheap tricks to compete." Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder proudly.

Ginny and Anastasia shared another look. So, she wasn't joking.

"As for me," Ginny started, "I'm going with Neville…as friends."

Anastasia was happy for the two of them. If the awkward Gryffindor boy hadn't asked Ginny, she would have been too young to go at all.

"Can I see the new dress?" Hermione asked, swinging her legs off the bed and removing the lid. "Oh my word, it's gorgeous."

Ginny ran over to look for herself.

"Zabini Original? Blaise's mum made this for you?" she asked, sounding rather jealous.

Anastasia nodded. "I was interviewed for the cover feature for Witch Weekly…it comes out the day after the Yule Ball."

The Gryffindor girls, usually unimpressed with this sort of information, seemed to understand the weight of the news.

"Why don't you look happy about it?" Hermione asked immediately as Ginny stared eagerly for more answers.

Anastasia explained everything that happened that day, "…and I sort of let it slip to the journalist that…that I love him…Draco that is."

"You love him?" they asked at the same time.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

"—that you didn't hit your head?" Ginny continued, folding her arms.

Hermione gave a warning glare at Ginny. Although Hermione might have had more reasons to hate Draco than the pureblood ginger, she understood Anastasia's situation better.

"I'm sure…" Anastasia went on, "but I didn't mean to tell the reporter, and I haven't told him yet…which means I have to tell him—"

"—before the end of the Yule ball," Hermione finished.

"—that you were hit by an opposite language jinx and actually meant you hate his guts and want to break up with him immediately," Ginny suggested jokingly.

Anastasia shook her head with a grin.

"He's not that bad…"

The Weasley girl rolled her eyes, "He's not that bad if you're Anastasia Dumbledore, the inheritor of multiple famous pureblood lineages and therefore the closest thing that he's going to get to an upgrade in his lifetime."

Hermione glared at Ginny to get her to stop.

Anastasia's gaze trailed off, hurt, remembering the conversation she and Draco had the other day. She wasn't quite the upgrade his father had in mind, but she was exactly the upgrade Narcissa had in mind. She simply wished her blood didn't play into it at all, that she could drain it all out and replace it with normal pureblood blood, even just to get Lucius Malfoy off their backs. She hated to admit it, but there was a little part of her that yearned for his approval, if only to make Draco's life easier.

"You can do it," Hermione suggested. "He does care for you. It shouldn't be any surprise at this point. Tell him before you chicken out, or before something happens."

Anastasia smiled softly.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"What are you going to do about the extra dress?" Ginny asked. "The one McGonagall got you? Won't her feelings be hurt if you don't wear it?"

Anastasia hadn't considered this. She simply wanted the chance to talk to Narcissa, which she hadn't gotten at all. She put her hand in her pocket and soothed her thumb over the swirled glass of the truth potion vial. Her mind wandered to the gold dress in her trunk, just as stunning as the one she received that day.

"I'm not sure yet."


"So, are you ready for the ball?" Draco asked, looking over the top of his textbook. They sat in the library on a Friday afternoon, the snow falling softly outside. No classes for fourth years during dead week.

"I guess…" Anastasia said. "I have two dresses, but—"

"But what?" he asked.

"I sort of…never learned the dance."

"What? What happened? Was McGonagall so bad at dancing you skipped?" Draco grinned teasingly.

"No. No…I was…" she immediately flushed unable to tell him. She didn't know why it was so difficult to say something so simple. "I got sick…remember?"

"Got sick?" He looked confused, trying to remember his own pains from the day. His face turned to a gentle smirk. "Oh…well next time you get sick, let me at least buy you chocolate or something."

Anastasia flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. Draco kept smirking as he turned the page of his text.

"I'm not stupid, Dumbledore. Considering my mother's profession, it would be embarrassing if I didn't know."

Anastasia looked out the window, now smirking too.

"Fine, well now you know, and I still don't know how to dance."

Draco looked up at her with those crystal blue eyes and snapped his book shut.

"Well, that's an easy fix. I can teach you."

"You learned enough from Snape on one day to teach someone the alternate part?" she asked critically, eyebrow pointed.

"Homeschool, princess. It's standard practice in pureblood homeschool groups. Now what do you say we get out of here and give it a go?"

"Oh…" Anastasia drifted, "sure then. If you think you know what you're doing."

"Come on." Draco put away his books, took her by the wrist, and pulled her down the hall. She obliged sheepishly.

Draco picked a classroom, out of the way and unused for the season. It was a round room with a tiled pattern in the floor that reminded Anastasia of what you might see in an old kaleidoscope. He locked the door behind them, led her to the center of the room, and pulled out her enchanted CD player and headphones. Anastasia had almost forgotten, and still unsure of how she felt about the device, took a step back.

Draco, surprised, looked down at the device.

"You aren't still scared of it are you? Kind of hard to learn dancing without music," he criticized.

"Um, I suppose we could try," she said. After all, she had used it right before she had gotten her period. Maybe her bad mood and absent-mindedness had something to do with it, or maybe because she was listening to a sad album about the troubles in Northern Ireland.

Draco set the CD player at the edge of the room, turned on the album, and enchanted the headphones to play at a comfortably audible level in the large room.

"There a good waltz on this?"

"Try track 10."

Draco turned on the soft lyrical tune and returned to Anastasia. "Now, I take your waist and your hand like this, and you take my shoulder."

At the feel of his touch, the familiar pull came back to Anastasia, the one that always seemed to be drawing her closer to him. His comforting scent and warmth fell over her. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and tried not to blush as he looked down at her with a faint smile.

"Now, follow my lead, I step forward you step back—"

"Ow!" Anastasia didn't move, and his foot came down on her toe.

"Oh, sorry, you'll have to be faster than that." They tried again, and again within three more steps, their limbs fumbled together once more, and he stepped on her once again.

"Anastasia, you have to listen to me—"

"I am listening!"

"Just—like this—" and he showed her a set of steps, incomprehensible to her. She attempted, and this time stepped on his foot.

"Ow!" They broke their hold on each other. "Merlin, Anastasia, I didn't think you were that heavy."

"Well, how do you think I feel!" she shouted back, arms folded. Eyes wide, ready to cry, Anastasia looked over to the CD player, still blaring as she struggled.

Draco saw her gaze, it turned to stubbornness at first, but then he looked her in the eye, pulled his wand out, and shot it in the direction of the CD player. The song cut off. The anger rolled off them like a wave of morning fog.

"I feel better already," she admitted.

He let out a breath of relief but said nothing. It was as good as an admittance of guilt from him that she'd ever get.

"Suppose we you can't teach me how to dance without anything to dance to though," she admitted.

"Yeah?" he asked. With a daringly smug smile he grabbed her waist and hand and drew her close. "Watch me."

He started with the same steps, that now, without the music, were somehow easier to comprehend. Counting under his breath, they slowly cantered through the movements. He guided her through the first lift. Anastasia felt the air catch under her and grinned widely when she landed and walked smoothly into the next portion. He smiled back.

Draco dropped the counting and began to hum very softly, but it was a tune she knew very well. He guided her into the second lift, she felt as if she were flying.

And when he pulled her close for the last steps, he whispered a song softly. One that if he sang fully, he might be embarrassed.

"Come with me now, through fields of buttercups,

Over the moors and under the willow tree.

Together we'll play by shores of sweet silver waves.

Your hand in mine, I will never leave thee."

Anastasia stared as he sang the last word.

"That song. I remember the tune. I didn't know it had lyrics…or maybe I forgot them."

Draco returned an odd look.

"It's an old family song," he replied. "I'm not sure where you would have heard it before."

Anastasia's memory flickered. "Wait right there," she smiled and ran to get something from the dormitory.

When she returned moments later, she found him staring out the window. She cradled an enamel music box of red, green, blue, and gold decor.

Draco peered at it.

"That box—"

Anastasia twisted the key and opened the box to let it play.

"I received it anonymously from someone in first year. I assume your mother sent it. She used to send me all sorts of pretty things. This, and my necklace. Little memories of my mother. Little things she wanted to give me but couldn't bring me herself."

He reached out and touched the gold filigree decorations laced through the top.

"This sat on the shelf in my room for the longest time," he said. "I always used to fall asleep to it, and mum would sing to me. I told her I didn't care about it when we redecorated, but maybe I missed it more than I thought."

Anastasia smiled, and then her heart hurt again.

She had until the day after Christmas. She wound up the music box and set it open at the side of the room next to the CD player. Then, she returned to him and took up her position once more.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked, as they danced without much thought.

"Of course, you can tell me anything," Draco said, taking her and dipping her.

"Umm…" The butterflies in her stomach fluttered around wildly. The moment was perfect, but she wasn't wearing the perfect dress, and it wasn't the perfect night. She did have a little bit more time.

"I guess…what I wanted to say was...can we spend some time together? Alone? After the Yule Ball? Maybe even during it?"

Draco flashed his smile at her again, making her heart flutter.

"You want more privacy than what we normally have?" he smirked, brought her up, and twirled her. "I agree. Where were you thinking?"

"Mm…" she thought of all the romantic nooks and hideaways in the castle, although several, she was certain would be filled up with other couples trying to get away for the night. "…it's a surprise. We can jet off after the first few dances and have the rest of the evening to ourselves."

He smiled even more brightly. "Sounds perfect."

And he leaned in to kiss her as the last chimes of the music box played.


Due to semester finals, and all the happenings surrounding Yule Ball preparations, it had been several weeks since Anastasia had the chance to catch up with Albus. They sat in the kitchens at their normal table, eating dinner.

Anastasia wasn't certain where to begin and picked at her food quietly until Albus brought up his own question.

"Did anything come of what Ludo Bagman told us that evening?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted, nodding sadly, "I think I'm the reason Harry picked the Hungarian Horntail and not something easier. I picked up the draw bag for Mr. Crouch one day, and something inside it…changed…I'm not sure how to describe it, but I know it was magic."

Albus looked off thoughtfully and smiled.

"Yes, he told me I should teach you better than to wander around the Forbidden Forest on your own. Why were you out there to begin with?"

Anastasia winced.

"I'm not sure. I was listening to some music, walking and feeling angry about the whole thing, and I just sort of ended up out there."

"I see." Albus nodded gently. "So you believe the magic of the cup controlled you to be in the right place at the right time—or maybe the wrong place at the wrong time depending on how you look at it?"

Anastasia frowned.

"It certainly wasn't the right place. Harry could have died because of that. It was only through luck that he didn't."

"Maybe," Albus considered, "maybe not."

Anastasia remembered the conversation she and Harry had in the kitchen not too long ago about both of them being unlucky in different ways.

"I found something out…" she started hesitantly "…it was actually Dobby who told me."

Anastasia explained what the little elf had said. By the end, Albus looked at her from across the table with suspiciously narrowed eyes.

"That is very interesting…although…I couldn't be sure if it was the truth or not. Narcissa's one to do what she needs to get what she wants, but she also loved her best friend dearly, and I don't believe she had a grudge against Francis."

"That's what I'd like to find out…" she trailed off, ringing her hands in her lap. "I have a truth potion. I'd like to use it on her before I ask."

Albus, surprised she would fess up to something like this.

"And if you do, what would it change?" he asked.

Anastasia considered this. She supposed nothing about her situation would change. She would still love Draco and feel the ever-present pull towards him. Her heart would still flutter every time he touched her. They would still know each other's every pain and respond to it in turn. Still, would any of it exist without the lifeline?

"Well, I'd like to know…to what extent I'm being manipulated into…into being with Draco," she admitted. Albus's smile turned soft and encouraging.

"Do you love the boy?" her father asked kindly, not pressing, simply wondering. Anastasia felt the heat rush to her face.

"Um, I do…but grandad, sometimes I'm not sure if it's real, or if it's the lifeline. And if it's only the lifeline causing it all, then isn't it a lie?" she worried.

Albus nodded solemnly and his voice entered that mysterious trance of wisdom that made her believe he wasn't only talking about the present situation. "It is the risk of having a magical bond, that we become unsure of whether its power holds true, or if it was only felt in the moment it was created. In your case, by someone outside of the bond itself."

"Right…" Anastasia trailed off, staring at her water glass.

"Let me ask you something, do you trust Narcissa as your godmother?" Albus asked.

"Sometimes…" Anastasia clarified, "she often does what she thinks is best for me."

"And if you use the veritaserum to pose your questions to her, do you think that will confirm your trust in her or further dilute it?"

"I guess I won't know if she could be trusted, but I will know the truth. Are you suggesting I try asking without the potion?"

Albus again tilted his head from side to side, considering the options.

"Depends on what you desire more: the truth about your origins and your bond with Draco, or the truth of whether your godmother cares for you as more than a potential trophy in the family lineage. If she does, she will tell the truth on her own."