Chapter 3) Unusual Methods
Selected Listening: The Kiss- Nicholas Hooper
That evening, Anastasia stayed up late reading, trying to ignore the rain on the roof keeping her awake. She tried not to think about Draco across the hall, or what Narcissa was thinking by trapping them there.
It was all too planned.
Anastasia read The Snow Queen until she reached where the girl, Gerda, sets off to rescue her friend from the snow queen's trap. She closed the book and rolled over on her side. The white quartz stoat sat on the nightstand beside her music box, staring back with black pin-point eyes, listening to her thoughts and worries.
Anastasia had taken the statuette from the shopping bags out of spite. She left the fox.
She must have drifted off at some point, because she awoke to gentle light of another cloudy day filtering through the blinds onto the gray wooden floor.
"Get up. We need to set off." Narcissa hammered on their door frames.
Draco grumbled a question.
"You'll see. Now hurry."
Anastasia shoved herself up, put her feet on the floor. She held her face in her hands and massaged the base of her palms against her eye sockets. She threw on her regular muggle clothes—not the ridiculous outfit from the day prior—pulled on her boots and grabbed her rucksack.
Even though she would be returning that evening, she felt the need to stow all her belongings back. The extension charm kept the bag light despite the books, the CD player, and the family heirlooms. Maybe she was worried those who followed them yesterday would ransack the place.
On the way out of her room she bumped into Draco coming out of his. He wore the same outfit from the day before, his hair fluffed unevenly from a restless night.
"You took my ferret," he complained, placing his arm across the corridor so she couldn't move.
"Don't know what you're talking about," she shrugged. A rage glimmered in his eye, but he dropped the topic almost immediately.
"Any idea what she's up to?" he asked genuinely. Her eyes darted away from his.
"Not sure," Anastasia said.
Narcissa couldn't have found a solution so quickly. It had only been three months since she brought up the idea of breaking the lifeline. Draco dropped his arm and the two tromped downstairs.
Anastasia wolfed down the waffle breakfast Mopsy made and waited in the entry way, bouncing anxiously on her heels, pulling the straps of her rucksack tightly against her shoulders.
"Nervous, are we?" Narcissa asked, finishing her last bit of tea.
Draco glared up at his mother from his half-eaten food.
"It's hard not to be when you won't tell us what's going on."
"All will be revealed soon," she said shortly and placed the teacup beside Mopsy's pile of dishes. Draco shoved his breakfast half-heartedly to the side and joined them.
The three set off down the lane again, this time keeping to the back alleys of the little town. Narcissa lead the way, darting this way and that. Draco, in his long stride kept to the middle, but Anastasia couldn't quite keep up, as she was looking over her shoulders, almost certain that whatever followed them the day before would be following them again.
In about five minutes, they reached a dead end. Anastasia caught up to Draco's side, and they exchanged glances nervously.
"Mum, where the bloody hell are we?" Draco asked.
Narcissa turned over her shoulder, glared at him, and then drew her wand, tapping three bricks distinctly.
"You'll need to remember that combination," she said vaguely. Anastasia did her best to seal the correct order in her mind.
The bricks rotated aside to reveal a small, arched corridor. A set of stone stairs appeared into the townhouse above. Narcissa crouched through the opening and straightened up once she'd gotten through.
"Come along," she gestured.
The two teens shared another nervous glance, and Draco offered her the way in first. Anastasia took a deep breath and followed her godmother up the shrouded stairs. As soon as Draco entered behind her, the bricks folded closed, casting them in near complete darkness.
There was no banister, only the stone wall, but a light in an opening at the top of the stairs. Anastasia kept her left hand on the wall and hesitantly let her right hand drift behind her. A small part of her hoped Draco would take it, but he either didn't see it, or ignored it.
Whatever Narcissa had planned, it lay in the hall above.
Anastasia suddenly felt her heart stop. What if her godmother wasn't her godmother at all? What if a death eater had replaced her in order to trap them there? Anastasia drew her wand and held it up to Narcissa as her godmother climbed through the last stair and up to the room above.
"What did you say to me when I almost held the infant in April?" she demanded, referring to the last time she assisted Narcissa with a delivery. She still remembered the still face and limbs of the dead child.
"Anastasia, what—" Draco grabbed her shoulder. Anastasia held her ground on the last steps, realizing they were coming into another corridor, this one more sterile, and light.
Narcissa's eyes widened at the wand, but then calmed.
"'It's bad luck'…Now put that away and ask a better question next time. Many have heard me say the same."
Anastasia put her wand away, embarrassed.
"Paranoid," Draco scoffed. It stung.
They emerged into a short area of hall. At one end was a gray push-bar door, and at the other, a fireplace framed by stone gargoyles.
"This looks like…" Anastasia kicked the tile floor, "…St. Mungo's."
"We are at St. Mungo's," Narcissa corrected. "It's on the other side of that door, but from their end, they can only see a sheer wall."
Draco reached the top and stared around.
"Hang on…I know this place…" he gazed around.
"Where you were treated for asthma as a child…yes."
"Unsuccessfully treated…" he clarified. Narcissa nodded and walked into the only other room in the hall. Anastasia met Draco's disgruntled gaze. It wasn't a happy memory.
She followed her godmother into the room. It was longer than it was deep, with a bed at each end, and some arcane form of IV strung up beside each one. A window let in light from the opposite wall. In the center of the floor were the sketches of some magic circle that Anastasia hadn't seen before. The lines were harsh, creating fragments from the center to each side of the room.
It wasn't quite finished yet.
"What is all this?" Draco asked in an accusatory voice.
"I brought you two here for a reason," Narcissa said. "Vivian has more time on her hands than I do. She's been experimenting with other kinds of biological curse breaking successfully."
"My old nurse?" Draco asked. He stomped and began cursing under his breath. Anastasia remembered clearly. The woman chasing him through Diagon Alley to get him to return to St. Mungo's.
"One of them, yes, and she's younger than me," Narcissa shot at her son. "She's creating this to break the lifeline."
Anastasia and Draco's eyes met. His expression read This is insane.
There was a part of Anastasia that knew Narcissa was planning this purposefully now. Not only because she requested it from her the previous year…but because with Voldemort alive and well…there would be complications.
"No." Draco said immediately. "Uh-uh, no, not participating. Don't try again later. Come on, Anastasia." He grabbed her hand this time and tugged her towards the stairs. She grabbed it back.
"But wait, won't this help?" she paused, waiting for him to at least consider.
"Help? Help get us both killed probably."
Narcissa rolled her eyes at her son's dramatics.
"It most likely won't work the first time. She'll have to test it. Make corrections. She'll be able to cross over from St. Mungo's undetected. You'll need to report here for specific school breaks…if this is what you want."
Anastasia stared at the room, glanced at Draco, then back at the room again.
"Let's try it," she pleaded. She was ready to know for sure. At the very least, she was ready to break the curse. Draco winced.
"You can't be serious," he muttered.
At that moment, a squat witch came in through the door in the corridor. She wore her dyed-auburn hair up in a tight bun and a dark teal nurse's dress. Black gloves covered her hands that she folded together over her stark white apron. Anastasia remembered her from her day with Narcissa at St. Mungo's the previous year.
"Ah, Vivian, thank you for coming to meet us today. You know Draco, and this is Anastasia."
She nodded starkly to Draco and in a slightly more friendly to Anastasia as she assessed her patients.
"They've grown," she said, not addressing either of them.
"They have," Narcissa agreed.
"Do you really think you can help us?" Anastasia asked the woman. The witch's dark eyebrows lifted critically.
"I've already been able to cure a pair of conjoined twins and relieve the effects of one blood malediction. The lifeline is a historically important spell. Being the first to undo it would do be…well…do wonders for healing alchemy, along with helping a dear friend," Vivian nodded to Narcissa who smiled pleasantly back at her.
Anastasia wasn't sure if either of those curses were as complex as the lifeline, but she was willing to try. She returned her gaze to Draco.
Draco glared back and forth between his ex-girlfriend and his mother and finally folded his arms angrily. "Fine, we'll be a pair of damn guinea pigs."
Anastasia glared. He understood why she volunteered for this. Didn't he? For all the reasons they argued yesterday and more?
Narcissa turned to Vivian, and they began speaking in hushed voices. Draco shoved off the doorframe and turned to the stairs. Anastasia, seeing Narcissa wave her off, followed behind him. The two exited the staircase into the alley outside.
Anastasia expected a cold shoulder, awkward waiting, but Draco rounded on her quickly.
"So, dark magic is fine as long as it gets you away from me faster?" he shot.
Anastasia fumed. She held firmly that healing alchemy wasn't dark magic. Yet it was equally illegal to practice.
"What? Don't like it when I point out that you're being an utter hypocrite?" he asked, towering over her. She backed away, arms folded tight over her torso.
"Fuck you, Draco Malfoy," Anastasia whispered.
"Yes, please," he answered with a sly smile.
Cheeks burning, she resisted the urge to slap him, to sting her own face.
When they returned to the cottage, Anastasia heard sounds coming from the breakfast nook. Squeaking and rummaging sounds. Draco walked in behind her, followed by Narcissa. Narcissa put a finger to her lips, pulled out her wand, and crept to the kitchen, Draco and Anastasia flanking her.
Mopsy had vanished, but in her place was a little elf with elephant-shaped ears wearing incredibly tall socks with his knitted Chudley Cannons jumper, and heart printed boxers for shorts.
"Dobby!" Anastasia yelled. "You frightened us!"
"You!" Narcissa yelled. "What are you doing here? God, what is it wearing?"
"Don't yell at him." Anastasia said assertively.
"How did you find us?" Draco asked the elf.
Dobby shrugged and poked his forefingers together sheepishly.
"Dobby can always find the Malfoys. The Malfoys trace is not subtle."
"Is it yours now?" Narcissa asked, putting the pieces together.
"He's not mine," Anastasia clarified. Dobby straightened up and asserted himself.
"Dobby is a free elf. Dobby may serve whomever Dobby pleases. And right now, I am employed by Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore. Therefore, Dobby is loyal to Miss Anastasia Dumbledore." Dobby said and took Anastasia's free hand. Not being able to help herself, Anastasia smirked to one side.
"Employed?" Narcissa asked as if it were the most outrageous thing she'd heard in years. "They pay you for service they could have for free? That's what our tuition money is going toward?"
"Yes, employed," Anastasia explained. "He asked, and grandad was happy to oblige."
"You stole our house elf!" Draco accused. Anastasia grimaced.
"I didn't steal anything. Your father set him free by accident. Grandad and I intervened." Anastasia ignored their stunned faces and looked back down to Dobby, "Why have you come, Dobby?"
Dobby's eyes ogled up at her.
"Professor Dumbledore has urged me to bring Anastasia home immediately. There has been an accident concerning Harry Potter and you must come home at once."
Anastasia's breath stopped. Leave it to Harry to give her an escape route with his constant attraction to danger.
"Potter?" Draco laughed. "What has the idiot done now?"
"Draco Malfoy will not insult Harry Potter!" Dobby shouted and then turned back to Anastasia. "Harry Potter has been attacked by dementors in the muggle village."
"Wild dementors?" Anastasia asked.
Dobby whimpered and shook his head.
"The ones from Azkaban. They've gone rogue." Dobby turned to Draco and Narcissa, who were decidedly confused. "Professor Dumbledore recommends you return home as well. It is not safe for any witches or wizards. Not safe at all."
The three magics shared glances of concern, and then Anastasia resummoned her voice.
"I suppose I'll see you two later then. Stay safe?" she asked.
Narcissa nodded to her stoically.
"Your father's off his rocker this time." Draco blurted as she turned toward the elf. "There's nothing wrong!"
"You will not insult—" Dobby started, but Anastasia was already on it, holding up a hand to stop the elf and glaring at Draco mercilessly.
"You might not believe it, but my friend, who witnessed our classmate's murder, was just attacked, and I'm going to see if he's alright. You don't have to agree with me," she snapped. "Have a nice end of the holiday," she said starkly.
Draco folded his arms and scoffed, staring away.
"Alright, Dobby. To home," Anastasia said, taking the elf's hand.
"Yes," Dobby laughed nervously, and pulled at his jumper collar, "home."
The elf took her hand, and they snapped away.