Chapter 13) Ignorance
Selected Listening: Mr. Perfectly Fine- Taylor Swift
Anastasia had spent the night in a turmoil of dreams. All where Draco died, and she was left having to explain what happened to the Malfoys. In the end, his father always killed her, sometimes Narcissa too.
Later in the night, she heard Draco's voice gently speaking to her, and the nightmares went away.
It must have been a dream too, she thought.
But when she fell back asleep and woke a second time that morning, she couldn't tell if he was breathing.
"Draco?" she asked softly. He didn't move.
"Are you awake?" she asked at a normal volume. Nothing. All the way across the room, it seemed as if his chest had stopped rising and falling.
Panicked, she fled to his side, placing one hand on his chest. He wasn't. She grabbed his wrist and felt for a pulse. She couldn't get a good read.
"Please," she asked. "Please, no."
Anastasia leaned over him to reach for the side of his neck, her fingers warm against his skin.
A beat. A smile.
"Draco?"
Draco's eyes flashed open. He launched up, wrapped his arms around her torso, and pulled her on top of him possessively…laughing.
Anastasia yelped and landed, her hands on his shoulders, her chest pressed against his. His scent fell over her like a spell. She lost her breath as she stared at his triumphant expression, inches away. His grip on her waist fell halfway under her robe hem and onto her back. He lifted a hand from her waist to reach up and drag his fingers through her tangled firelight tresses.
She turned a dark red as she noticed the warmth of her body aligned with his and scrambled to get away, flailing to untangle the IVs in their wrists. She felt the full gravitational pull of the lifeline, and it scared her.
Disappointment in his eyes, he let her go.
"Why'd you do that?" she demanded.
He snapped up, a new scowl on his face.
"What? Worried about me, princess? Be careful, it almost sounded like you cared."
Anastasia turned away from him and crossed her arms.
"You have Pansy. Is one girl in your bed not enough for you or something?"
She struggled to hide the pain in her voice. Draco swung his feet down to the floor and frowned slightly.
"You're the one who wanted out. If things aren't turning out the way you planned, don't blame me."
Anastasia took a step back from him, unable to respond.
Something small, gray, and fuzzy sped by on the windowsill.
"Did you see that?" she asked, walking over to examine the sill left and right. The secret hospital wing must have been warded. No one should have been able to find them.
"See what?" he asked, peeking around her.
"It was an animal." She noted.
"Probably a pigeon. Rats with wings, if you ask me."
She crossed her arms, deep in thought.
"You're bleeding," Draco said.
She looked down and found that she'd accidentally pulled out the needle from her inner arm, hanging halfway off the band aid, a trail of blood trickled down her wrist and stained her gown. Draco stood, grabbing the mechanism he was attached to and slid over to Vivian's stainless-steel cart of supplies, grabbing a bandage. He walked back over to her and took her arm, tearing off a strip of the roll. She watched his focus as he wrapped it securely around her forearm, muttering about the useless nurse.
"There," he said when he was done, still holding her forearm gently. Although most her scars laid invisible underneath her glamor, he soothed over them with his thumb.
Anastasia couldn't breathe again.
"Anastasia, I—"
The door creaked open. Draco dropped her hand, and they returned to their sides of the room. Vivian eyed them suspiciously, but said nothing, returning to check their vitals.
"You ripped it out?" she asked. "I need those readings to find what worked."
"Nothing worked," Anastasia growled.
Vivian returned their school clothes, and the two dressed and prepared to depart for Hogwarts via the floo. When the nurse left them alone at the exit, they stood there tensely.
"I don't want to do that again," Anastasia finally said, turning towards him. "It's not worth one of us losing our lives."
"Took you long enough." Draco shot, "How do we tell mum?"
Anastasia's heart fell with disappointment.
"I don't know. I thought she was going to meet us before we went back to school. Now what do we do?"
"Not sure…I think she was banking on this working the first time. She's known that woman longer than either of us."
Anastasia looked back at Draco listlessly.
"But she has to believe one of us. Right?" Anastasia asked.
Draco's face fell with bad news.
"Mum's been acting strange lately…even before the thing with the Ministry. She's been acting like we're prepping for an emergency, but if I point it out she gets really defensive."
Anastasia's mind reeled.
"Oh, an emergency? I wonder what that could be. Like your father disappearing for hours on end? Refusing to go on holiday, to the point where your mum organized the family holiday without him. I wonder what all this could possibly mean." Anastasia said, enraged.
"If you're insinuating what I think you're insinuating—"
"Look at the facts, Draco! Who supports you-know-who more than your father? Who put your mother in danger when you-know-who came to power the first time? She's scared, that's why she's doing all this…and you know what? I'm scared too. Scared that you're not going to come to terms with all this until it's too late," she drove a finger into his chest.
Draco leered over her.
"My father is a busy man. You think he has time for a holiday right now when your lunatic father is going around talking about you-know-who being back and accusing him of being there when you-know-who resurrected?"
Anastasia just shook her head.
"You know, it's not the first time I saved your life. You would have died second year if I hadn't been there to knock you over when the basilisk came around the corner. And you know why that basilisk was there to begin with? Because your prick of a father secreted Voldemort's diary into the bloody school. If you can't see that…"
She couldn't even finish her sentence, leaving through the floo before he could respond.
Anastasia skipped occlumency that day. She knew she had no chance at hiding her thoughts after what she had been through, so instead she went to the headmaster's suite for dinner. The table was set with bangers and mash, and she and her father sat silently, each picking at their own food, deep in thought.
"I noticed you and Draco Malfoy were both absent from the Halloween feast last eve."
Anastasia looked up at her father. She was never sure how much he noticed her at mealtimes in the Great Hall.
"I was there," she said.
"Only for a moment, and you vanished after Draco left early."
Anastasia picked at her food some more. Albus lowered his head to look her in the eye.
"Last semester you promised me you wouldn't go to the Manor without telling me. You know how dangerous it could be right now."
"I wasn't at the manor," she clarified.
"Ah…" Albus observed, and after a long silence, finally said, "I trust you and your judgement. So wherever you were, it must have held a great deal of importance."
Anastasia almost broke down and told him, but she couldn't. It was pointless to get in trouble for it anyway. She and Draco wouldn't be going again.
At least she hoped they wouldn't.
"It was," she said very seriously and put her fork down, looking through the stained glass window onto the grounds.
"I've also noticed that Draco has been spending a substantial amount of time with Ms. Parkinson."
"Please, not now," she held her head in her hands, a knot forming in her stomach. "I don't want to talk about it."
"If you ever do, I'm here."
Anastasia thought for a while and finally summoned a question.
"Why do you think that the Malfoys haven't told him? About Voldemort coming back?"
"I can only imagine," Albus said. "But if I were imagining, I would expect it's because Voldemort is still gaining strength. Not only does he want his lackeys to keep quiet—most likely under threat—but Lucius also doesn't want Draco boasting about uncertain things."
"Uncertain? What's there to be uncertain about? Voldemort has returned."
"He has, but he is still weak…if he is able to find the thing he is looking for…the options are limitless…and it's why the Order is trying to protect it."
"Like the sorcerer's stone?" Anastasia asked.
"Not quite. This time, instead of an object with powers, he's looking for an object with answers, and he would do anything to get his hands on that information, which is what the Order is trying to protect.
Anastasia paused.
"That might explain Lucius, but what about Narcissa?"
"Narcissa's intuition is spot on. Even if Lucius hasn't discussed it with her directly, she's seen the signs for long enough."
Anastasia thought of the man who appeared at the restaurant long ago at the beginning of fourth year, and then again at Easter.
Albus continued.
"I imagine, that if she told Draco, she wouldn't possibly be able to convince him of the full ramifications of Voldemort's return…not without him experiencing it himself…Lucius could even turn her words against her…so she is simply preparing the best she can until the consequences are made clear."
Albus examined her expression as he broke the news.
"You are worried," he observed.
"He doesn't believe me."
A flash of empathy crossed his expression.
"For someone who was not old enough to remember the first war…it is a very difficult thing to believe. For the son of Voldemort's second in command…it's a very difficult thing to want to believe."
Hermione and Harry decided the next day that it was the perfect time to begin the defense club.
"Where are we having it?" Anastasia asked, looking up from the astronomy homework she was trying to catch up on. She was behind several assignments, but found it the fastest subject to complete.
"The Room of Requirement," Harry said confidently.
"The room of what?" Anastasia asked.
"Dobby told me about it. And Dumbledore." Harry comfortably shrugged on his cloak and stuffed the Maurader's Map and his wand into his pockets.
"Oh," Anastasia said, surprised there was anything new about the castle for her to learn.
When evening came, Harry led the four down to the seventh floor hallway, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. As Harry walked back and forth in a seemingly aimless manner, Anastasia stood in the hall and stared up at the ceiling where the birds fluttered in their cage.
She had been there, on that floor, but had never discovered the room beside it.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked before they went in.
"Hm?" Anastasia asked. "I've always loved these birds."
Hermione examined them briefly and then went to help Harry with the entrance that appeared.
"Are you coming, Stasia?" Ron asked. She woke up from her staring and followed them in.
The room opened up into a beautiful, empty hall. Filled with cushions for practice, accented by a fireplace at the end, and cornered by a bookshelf that held volumes of defense spells and tactics.
The group filed in one by one. Anastasia took post next to the twins, and soon everyone was silently awaiting Harry's next word.
"Alright—" Harry tried.
Hermione interrupted and suggested they formally vote Harry as leader. Everyone did.
"Okay—" Harry tried again, but Hermione interrupted saying they needed a name. She had pulled the signed parchment out—Anastasia saw her hex it before the first meeting so no one could tell on them without the rest finding out—and had her quill inked at the ready. Angelina and Cho threw out suggestions.
"The Defense Association," someone finally settled on. "D.A. for short."
Anastasia was fine with this and raised her hand to vote, when Ginny interjected.
"It can stand for Dumbledore's Army. Isn't that what the Ministry is most afraid of?"
Several people raised their hands in excited agreement, but before Anastasia could put her hand down, Hermione had already scrawled it on the page with a grand smile.
"W-what did you do?" Anastasia asked. The room went silent.
"Anastasia—it's just a name," Hermione tried, but her falling expression realized her error. "Everyone agreed—"
"That's my father's name, my name. You can't just use it anyway you'd like! Especially not right now!"
Beside her, George turned and whispered to Fred.
"You know, sometimes, I don't get it…her and him, and sometimes I do entirely."
Fred cringed.
Anastasia glared and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Ron barked.
"I need space," Anastasia said as she reached the doorknob, and peeked out the crack in the door to ensure the coast was clear, "I need to think."
"Don't tell anyone." Hermione urged, tapping the parchment.
"I'm not going to," she shot.
Anastasia wandered up to the astronomy tower and looked over the Black Lake. The moon reflected off the waves. She curled up on the window ledge and gazed at all the beautiful stars and wondered what it was like to be one, looking down at everything else.
"Oh look, it's Dumblebrat," one of Anastasia's least favorite voices whined behind her. She turned and saw Pansy standing at the entrance, Draco a few steps behind her. "And out past curfew as well."
"It's eight o'clock. We have an hour," Anastasia countered.
"Wait until I tell Umbridge you forgot what time it was. Wouldn't be unbelievable considering your genetic disposition. Right Draco?" she cackled.
But Draco wasn't laughing. He was hanging in the doorway watching Pansy guardedly.
The Slytherin girl's sickly sweet demeanor slid off her face.
"Alright, I know there's something going on between you two," she snarled. "I saw your memories. You were together this summer…and you snuck out for nearly a whole day on Halloween night."
Anastasia blushed and looked away.
"Did not," Draco said and laughed nervously. "Pansy, really?"
"You are cheating, aren't you?" Pansy pointed a finger at him.
"He's not," Anastasia defended, but of course, it depended on one's definitions.
"Anastasia and I aren't together. What brought this on?" he asked.
"Then what is going on?" she shouted. "Because on Halloween night, I left you on the way to the common room, and Pershore said you didn't come back all evening, and then this one didn't come to occlumency the next day. I can only assume you were together, and she knew she couldn't hide it."
Anastasia and Draco shared a glance. They didn't count on Pansy getting smart.
"Pansy, it's…" Anastasia trailed off, hoping Draco would jump in. He did, but not in the way she wanted.
"Fine." Draco held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. Family dinner. Mum required both of us to go…I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be upset."
Pansy's face contorted in rage.
"I hate your mother! She still approves of Dumblebrat more than me. I can't. Ugh!"
Pansy stormed off.
Draco stared after her in silence but did not follow.
"Why don't you tell her…" Anastasia suggested. "You've been dating almost a whole year."
Draco snapped back to her.
"I told you. Parkinson can't be trusted. She'll blab, and then where will we be? I'll be stripped of my family wards, then she'll break up with me anyway, and you and I will be left without protection."
"So, you admit we need protection?" Anastasia cornered, slipping her feet off the windowsill onto the floor.
Draco scoffed.
"Course we do! A bloody mad man tried to murder us last year. And that's before even considering your theory that you-know-who is back."
"You are considering it?" Anastasia asked, a spark of hope in her chest.
Draco faltered and seemed to become very small.
"I-I've been trying to get in touch with mum, but she's been busy hiding her work from the ministry and all that. I can't exactly owl her about it with Umbridge monitoring everything."
Anastasia folded her arms and bit her lip. She knew any further efforts to convince Draco that his father was present the night of Cedric's death would lead to more pushback and defensiveness.
Instead, she returned to the original topic.
"Then, why are you dating Parkinson?" Anastasia asked. "You know you don't have to date anyone?"
"You know that will never work," he said darkly.
They stared at each other, reaching the conclusion that they were using Pansy as a buffer between them and excusing it because of her horribleness. He looked like he was about to say something else…and then didn't.
"Are you playing Saturday?" he finally asked.
"No, we've enough players this time around," she said. Being the reserve player had its perks. At least she could occasionally watch the game.
His eyes narrowed.
"You better not eat another of those fever fudges that day. If you do, I will report you for cheating."
"No promises." Anastasia winked, knowing he could do nothing of the sort without having to explain the lifeline.
"Even if I am sick," Draco bluffed, "that mess of a Weasley's sure to throw the game right into our hands."
Anastasia glared. Ron had been uniquely horrible at practice all semester, but Angelina wasn't ready to swap him out yet, nor did Anastasia want to insult her friend in that way.
"Sweet dreams." Draco smirked and vanished.
