The final Quidditch match of the year between Slytherin and Gryffindor had started the day before, but Annie remained in her room. The past two years since her hopes of leaving the dungeons and the Slytherin House were crushed had turned her into a recluse. There were only three people she trusted and still maintained more than cordial contact with. Her brother, Arty and Jerry had been her only lifelines from her self imposed isolation.
Jerry had promised, yesterday afternoon, to take her to Hogsmeade, since her birthday that year was on a Monday. The expectation she had for a quiet dinner with him was dying with every tick of the clock. The 6:00 PM curfew imposed on all fourth year and younger students to return from the village was only an hour away. The Quidditch match, she hoped to be over quickly, seemed deadlocked.
Jerry's position as Keeper on the Gryffindor house team required he remain in the game, the House Cup was dependant on the outcome. Should Gryffindor lose, Slytherin could win this year if Ravenclaw were to lose their match with Gryffindor in less then a month. But if Gryffindor defeated their thousand-plus-year-old rivals, they would be awarded the House Cup, barring any mishaps that might take points from their tally.
She looked at the clock one more time, 5:30 . Her hope of spending the afternoon with him as he promised was dashed. The book that lay across her lap had been untouched for hours.
She glanced to the clock on her nightstand and fifteen minutes had passed, "Happy bloody birthday, Annie," she said and rolled over in her bed, and cried herself to sleep.
She had days like this before, where she felt the world was fighting her, when she felt alone and vulnerable. Her tenuous relationship with the one boy she fancied for years was crumbling and she felt she was forgotten by all, even her best friend hadn't stopped to see her that afternoon.
She slept while fitful images flooded her thoughts, dreams she remembered as a child had returned to haunt her thoughts.
The spinning of her bed felt as if she were thrown clear and completely missed hitting the floor or walls. The blackness of her mind was split with a distant sliver of light. It grew as she fell toward it.
She felt the cold stone floor through the nightdress she has never changed from the night before.
"Hello miss, are you in need of some help?" she heard from a deep voice.
"Pardon?" she asked. Her dreams never addressed her before.
"You have been troubled recently, friends and family seem to have abandoned you, correct?" the voice asked. She could see a handsome man addressing her, his hand out stretched to assist her to her feet. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and slender, sharp features. A young man barely twenty from his outward appearance.
"Who are you?" she asked as she stood and felt her nightgown change into her normal clothes.
"You have never met me, but rest assured I have known your family for generations, I had several particularly interesting meetings with your grandparents, and I have known your parents for a very long time." He still held her hand as he directed her to a bench, the scenery changed from her dormitory to a peaceful park surrounding.
"You knew my grandparents?" she asked. His smile seemed forced and harsh and out of place.
"You have questions why you were placed in Slytherin House, even though your parents and both your father's parents were in Gryffindor. You are here to help correct an injustice."
"Annie, wake up!" She heard Isabella scream as she was shaken awake.
"Isabella? What's happened?" Annie said from bloodshot eyes. She blinked hard and realized she was on the floor.
"You were shaking; we just came from the match and found you in the center of the room."
"The match?" she said in a daze.
"The Quidditch match against Gryffindor, it just ended, their Seeker caught the snitch, but we had them on points. It looks as if we're in a dead tie for the House Cup," Allison added.
"What time is it?" she asked feeling less rested then if she had played in the match.
" Quarter past midnight . It was one of the longest games in nearly fifty years," Allison said as she removed her cloak.
"And Happy Birthday, Anna, although I doubt you'll enjoy it much, you never seem too," Michele added in a condescending tone.
Annie recovered her senses enough to interpret the tone and barely acknowledged the remark. She grunted her thanks and disappeared to the loo. 'Quarter past midnight,' she thought. 'Fifteen years old and the same drab life.'
The other Slytherins were still in the common area, celebrating a non-loss for them and a non-victory for the Gryffindors. She could hear the merriment through the stone walls, and also heard her 'concerned' dorm mates leave to join the party.
She washed her face and returned to her sanctuary and isolation.
The vivid dream replayed in her head, but the images began to fade the harder she tried to remember it.
She tucked into her bed and sighed and reached for an old diary. As was her mother's habit to keep a diary, it was Annie's habit to nick them from the attic, magically copy them, and read them when she was depressed. The details of life in the years before the war were more interesting to her from an eyewitness rather then the drab and over-stated history text books of that period.
She opened her private trunk, to retrieve the latest volume she acquired, but a letter caught her attention. That letter she had discovered with her mum's plans to leave her father before they were wed.
Anna Lily Potter
Please open at your earliest convenience.
(In private if you please)
She read the address and startled at the change, the envelope was quickly torn open, and she pulled the sheet free. Her hands seemed to tremble as she held the page. It was drafted in the same emerald green ink as on the envelope.
September the First, 2008
Miss Anna Potter
My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am, at the moment, the Minister for Magic within our world. I do not believe you have been told a great deal of me, as I'm certain I will have died the day you were born.
I know you are probably feeling a tad uncomfortable receiving a letter from someone who has been gone these past fifteen years, but first let me reassure you that I have looked after both your parents when they were in my care as headmaster, and feel as responsible for their well being as a parent. And as a parent, I feel privileged to have helped guide them to find each other.
And as a parent, I have done everything in my power to keep them safe, as I have been protecting you from the same evil they had faced. Only a few weeks ago I received warning of a plot to return our world to the darkness you father vanquished.
No, this is not a cheap prank; I had the aid of a gifted Seer who foretold your coming. I have also been told the time of my passing, but unfortunately not the means. I can only assume it will not be an easy one, as I plan to continue to fight for every second of life, until that moment I can be the most use to you.
I truly doubt your parents have talked of their past, being as modest as they are of their abilities, to you or your sibling. I'm certain you will have one by now, but that part of your future life is unclear. The details of those events are difficult to focus on, as I'm certain you will learn with time, but I digress. Your father is the greatest and most powerful wizard alive, and your mother is the brightest of her age, with powers that complement your father's. The combination of their talents will be passed on to you and to your children in time. But remember they will always be your father and your mother, and they love you more then life itself. I am certain they would make the same sacrifice your grandparents made to save a young Harry Potter forty-one years ago. Do not forsake their love or devalue their willingness to give their lives to protect you and your brother.
You will soon be given a choice, and the ramifications will be wide spread and irreversible. The cost will be high no mater which side you choose, although I am certain you will make the correct one. But to make that choice, you must know and understand The Warning of Power.
I have entrusted specific details of the events that will lead to my death, to a dear friend. You must seek him out as he has knowledge critical to discovering the dangers you will all face before the anniversary of your father's first victory over the dark forces. I have entrusted the location of a vessel I discovered to him and he will be waiting for you in time.
I have left clues to his identity with your parents, and I pray they have acquired that information before it was lost.
Please remember, you can do what is easy or you can do what is right. As I have told your father as a boy, it is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
Your Protector,
Albus Dumbledore.
Annie read the letter again, to be certain she hadn't made a mistake, but there is was in emerald green, the word 'protector'.
"Why do I need a protector?" she asked herself. A quick thought and she began to review any reference her mother made to Albus Dumbledore in her writings. She re-read half of the manuscripts she had saved finding very little detail of this 'Albus Dumbledore'. The copies she had from later years seemed to be copy-resistant, and only blank pages were produced.
"He must have been important to them later on," she rationalized, "maybe there's a biography in the library."
She tucked her newest treasure into a pocket, and pulled a worn sheet with a phrase she had memorized. A saying she hoped would guide her through life, and thought of adding the new message from this former headmaster. She produced a quill and ink from her nightstand, and noticed the sun was cresting on the horizon.
The sheet read 'There is no good or evil, only power and those afraid to use it' and she started to add 'It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities'.
"Bugger it," she muttered. "What's the matter with this bloody ink?" The words faded from the page as quickly as she wrote them, forcing her to simply use a fresh sheet to save this new phrase.
"Annie, you'd best get up, classes are in an hour," Isabella called from the other side of the curtain. "And Happy Birthday, again."
"Thanks, Izzy. I'll be at breakfast in a few minutes," she replied as she folded the two sheets and tucked them into her bag along with the letter from Dumbledore. She checked her secret library to make sure it was still safely concealed and finally dressed. The pain in her stomach surged, forcing a whimper of pain, heard by no one.
The halls were clear and she hoped she could avoid dealing with others from her house. She made her way half way through the common area when she helt a hand on her shoulder and heard his voice.
"Potter, a word if you please."
She felt her shoulders droop and stopped in her tracks. "Yes, Professor Malfoy," she mumbled. Breakfast will have to wait. Silently she followed him to his private office. Even though he was her best friend's father and the Head of her House, for the first time she felt uneasy being alone with him.
He stood at the door and waited until she sat in one of the plain wooden chairs in front of his desk. Professor Malfoy's lack of concern for the student's physical comfort was well known, as was his cold and bitter nature. She began to fidget in the seat during the few seconds it took for him to close the door and take his seat behind his desk. He stared at a folder on his desk, and folded his hands resting on top of the folder.
"Miss Potter," he paused after addressing her, not expecting a response.
"Yes sir?"
"I have noticed you are nothing like your parents, am I correct in assuming you wish to build a name of your own?" She was about to reply when he continued. "I am in a position to assist you in furthering your future, on your own. There have been rumors that I'm certain you've heard."
"Rumors? Of what?"
He raised his hands; fingers still clasped together, to his face and rested his chin as he thought. The sleeve of his loosely fitting shirt slipped down his wrist exposing the head of a snake. Annie imagined it was moving, wiggling on his arm. Her attention quickly shifted before she was noticed staring at his unusual tattoo.
"Have you ever heard your parents discuss the dark times?" he asked quietly.
"No, all I know is what I've read in History Class. Dry stuff, really."
"So you don't know the roles your family had in the last war."
She shook her head and waited.
"I lost my parents, to the dark forces," he mumbled as he ran his fingers through his long blonde hair. "I may have lost my family because of that," he said after a moment.
"Sir?"
His head snapped up as he stared in her eyes, "Do I have your word what's discussed here will not be repeated to anyone?"
Confused she looked at him with a puzzled look.
"I need your word," he insisted.
His cold eyes bored into her mind as she nervously she nodded her head.
"Say it; say you swear not to repeat what we discuss here to anyone outside these walls.
"I-I swear," she said hesitantly. "Not to talk of this outside this room."
"I want you to vow on your blood not to reveal any of these detail to anyone outside these walls."
She nodded and he slid a small pocket knife across the desk.
"Prick a finger, and it will be sealed."
She picked up the knife and opened the small blade. She pressed it to her little finger on her left hand and winced as it broke the skin. A tiny drop oozed from the wound, and Professor Malfoy then offered her a bandage.
"That is adequate; a tiny drop of your blood will act as your bond. Should you break that bond, the repercussions to you and your family shall be most unpleasant."
She bound the small cut, and watched the small red dot seep through the bandage.
He showed visible signs of relief as he began. "I have many regrets, my greatest is Artemisia. I know she resents me for what happened, but there's nothing I was able to do then."
"Excuse me, sir. Does this conference have anything to do with my classes?"
"No, I need your help. You're free to refuse without fear of repercussion. This is a personal matter, I want my family back. But since I know that will never happen, I'll settle for them being safe."
"Professor?" she asked.
"Your father helped me win my wife's heart, but I know that has been lost. I wish I had better relations with my daughter, but she refuses to talk to me outside of required classes."
"Uh, sir? None of this is any of my concern, Arty is my friend, and I think this is between you and her, not me."
"Yes, I know. But if they find out, she and her mum could be in peril. There were things occurring just before you were born that I cannot talk about. That was why I had to leave, not because I wanted to, but I had to leave."
"I still don't understand," she began before he cut her short.
"There's no way you would. It was a horrible time, a time I never expected to relive. It all began shortly after the statue for your parents was dedicated in the Ministry. A few days later I noticed certain alterations in my stores here at Hogwarts. Not much, just a few difficult to find items. One item in particular is quite fatal if mishandled."
He paused to reflect before continuing. "I had become involved with those responsible for murdering the Minister of Magic some fifteen years ago. They hid in a secret chamber beneath his family's home, in a Muggle part of Wales . I wasn't aware of any of it until they came to me and insisted I help. The bastard threatened my wife and children if I didn't help, and I know for a fact he would have killed them all to get his own way. I personally witnessed him murder my mother."
Her eyes widened, the look of disbelief washed over her as he continued his story. "Your mother, who did that?"
"Someone I thought I had dealt with in the past. He was ordered to take her life as punishment for his failures. I would have been next, if I refused to do as they ordered," he said as he rubbed his left arm.
"What did they want you to do?" she asked.
"Never mind that, what's important is Artemisia understands why things happened between her mother and me. All I ever wanted was to live with my family in peace. It is important to me that Artemisia and her mother are safe. Radulphus and Lucia have been safely hidden, but I cannot contact my wife and daughter. I need you to help them to safety."
She thought for a moment before she replied. "So you want me to somehow convince Arty and her mum to go into hiding, and I can't tell them why?"
"Essentially, yes. I'm not certain how much time we have, maybe six months. I've been watched recently so any discussions will have to appear to be a disciplinary action or an academic action. You must take extreme caution, I've recently learned how they knew about intimate details; innocent comments during moments of passion turned someone close to you into an unwilling traitor."
"Six months? Then I have the summer to work it out."
"No, I said maybe six months, it may well be less. There may only be a few hours advanced warning."
'Great, I get detention to help Arty hide,' she thought before agreeing.
"Remember you cannot discuss this with anyone outside this room. Now, I believe you were to meet some people for breakfast. Thank you, Miss Potter."
"Professor, can I ask why me? I mean Arty's here too and she's your daughter," Annie asked before leaving.
"I've told you all I can. I'm depending on your discretion on this matter. As for why you, you've displayed the qualities I believe I can count on. Now go on, or you'll miss breakfast."
She stood as he looked back to his desk, and the closed folded before him. As she came to the door, a flash struck it and the wooden structure sparkled before it swung open.
"Good morning, Miss Potter," he said in a dismissive tone.
She left the chamber, and passed through the potions classroom to the main hall that led up the stairs to the Great Hall and breakfast.
She found an empty spot near an end of a table, although they were separated by house for the dinner meal, the tables were rearranged for small clusters of students. Her table had a couple Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff sitting at the far end, but was otherwise empty where she sat. A plate of fresh eggs and sausages appeared before her as she sighed.
"Miss Potter is unhappy?" a voice squeaked from just under the table.
"No, Dobby, I just expected today to begin differently," she sighed as she pushed a sausage around without intention of actually eating it.
"Friends have been asking for Miss Potter, does Miss wish for me to summon them?" the elf asked.
"No, I'll see them later. Now leave me," she hissed, her sudden anger startled her as she felt her finger throb.
"Dobby," she said quickly, "Maybe a glass of pumpkin juice, if you please."
"Yes Miss," he replied and vanished with a pop.
She sat at the table and stared at the food before her and began playing back the events of the morning.
"Lost in thought, Annie?"
She turned to see a boy her age standing behind her, the crimson in his cloak matched his hair, as he sat next to her. She watched Jerry in near horror, when she thought her hair was in its normal disarray.
"I, um, had some things to think on, this morning," she said trying to regain her composure.
"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday," he said as he kissed her cheek, "and see if you would like to go into Hogsmeade tonight, after dinner. My uncles had told me of alternate methods to leave the castle," he whispered into her ear as she blushed at his sign of affection.
"I-I umm. Yes, I would, but Arty has this surprise party she's planned and…"
"Yeah, I know about it too, she's not much for keeping secrets, that's why I can't let her know about these passageways."
"We have to be back by 7:00 or she'll have a fit," she said as a smile crept onto her face.
"Then after dinner, I'll take you for a treat." He leaned in and left another kiss on her cheek, lingering an extra moment.
Annie sat, feeling her cheek warm as she blushed at Jerry's affection. He left her at the table, her smile lingered as she watched him exit the Great Hall. Her euphoria lingered leaving her unaware another quickly sat next to her.
"Annie, what did Jerry want?" Artemisia asked, the grin on her face revealed she knew more then she let on.
"Just the date we missed yesterday," she sighed.
"And?"
"And we're meeting tonight, before the surprise party," she said replied in a light daze. Annie's daydream shattered when she realized what she just said.
"And how did you find out?" Arty snapped.
"Come off it," Annie began, having been brought back to reality too soon. "You've never been able to keep a secret, besides, when Aunt Eileen asked me to be in her classroom tonight, because Uncle Jake wanted 'potions' tutoring, I guessed they were up to something."
"Well, you could have played along, but since you know, you can just show up," Arty replied in a huff.
Annie sighed, "Don't worry, I'll be there and I'll be properly surprised." She paused and remembered her conversation this morning. "Arty?"
"What?" she asked abruptly.
"We've been friends all our lives," Annie said hesitantly.
"What of it?"
"I-I have a problem. I have a 'friend' that is in trouble, but has been sworn to secrecy. She can't really talk about it, but she has to do something for someone else, I really can't say anything else."
"Who is this 'friend' and what kind of 'trouble' is 'she' in? She should talk to her Head of House or a Prefect, if there's a problem in school."
"I wish I could tell you, but I can't. She can't tell anyone, and really shouldn't have told me." She sighed heavily and propped her head in her hands.
"Annie, let it go, it's your birthday, and you should be enjoying it. I do have a special surprise," Arty said with hopes of cheering Annie's mood. Before Annie could respond, Arty stood and left her friend alone at the table.
Annie struggled with her breakfast, pushed the conversation with Professor Malfoy to the back of her mind. The first class of the day was History of Magic, taught by the same ghost that taught her parents, and it was as dull and dead as the professor. The next lesson was Defense Against the Dark Arts. That post was still held by her mother's cousin, but special treatment was not afforded to even the most distant of family. Her abilities in this subject seemed as natural as it did for her father and it helped distance her classmates, as they naturally all knew the details of her family.
Lunch on her fifteenth birthday was spent with the same group of classmates that she shared her educational labors with, she ate alone.
A double Potions class was to end the day, however on the way to the dungeons of Hogwarts, a sharp gnawing pain cut through her stomach. No one tried to help the Slytherin girl when she dropped her books and doubled over with the pain. The only acknowledgment was a sneer and chuckle from a passing Hufflepuff.
"Miss Potter!" a man's voice bellowed, "You need to see yourself to the hospital wing if you're unable to attend classes."
Annie looked up through her tearing slits and could see his blonde hair, pulled into a ponytail. "Y-Yes prof-f-fessor," she stammered.
"You there," he pointed to that smirking Hufflepuff, "Escort Miss Potter to the infirmary and return at once."
He turned and left through the oak doors to the Potions classroom leaving the two students alone.
"Well, might just get this over with, Potter. Faking some stomach cramp to escape class, are we?"
"Stuff it, Whitby ," she managed to hiss. What was more startling to the boy was the trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.
"Come on then," he said as he picked up her books and grabbed her arm. She conceded and allowed him to lead her to the entrance of the Hospital wing, turned and left her at the door.
"Bloody git," she muttered as he disappeared down the stairs. She remained at the door, and as quickly as it hit, the pain vanished.
"Don't need this now, it's a great chance to skive off class," she said to no one as she followed her classmate from a discrete distance. Three sheets of parchment in her pocket drew her attention, but they remained hidden until she had managed to escape the cold walls of the castle for the view at the lake. A large oak tree stood less then 30 feet from a white marble tomb.
An old bench quickly called to her and she sat, grateful that seat was hidden from view of the castle. She pulled the letter from her bag and reread it, then read the messages on the other parchments.
"The Warning of Power," she said as the reviewed Dumbledore's letter. The sheets were carefully folded and she replaced them in her pocket. She picked up a small stone and tossed it into the lake, and sat watching the ripples grow. Each concentric ring spread outward from the cause of the disturbance. Another stone added more ripples, intersecting with the first group.
She sat on the bench, tossing stone after stone waiting for all the rings from the latest stone to fade, oblivious to the passing of time. The intersections that formed with each pebble tossed seemed dependant on those that had passed, as if each had a life that was dependant on those that preceded it.
The light of day began to fade; she pulled her birthday letter from her pocket one last time before having to leave to meet Jerry. The words began to glow with the gold of fading sunshine, the rustle of the trees behind formed a melody, but there was no wind to disturb the leaves. She closed her eyes and let the tune fill her restless soul.
The long forgotten song filled the air, the leaves swirled and fell. The moment was as intoxicating as any potion. She could feel her soul come alive, visions danced in her mind, there was a fountain that was not made by the hands of men, and there was a road that was found between the dawn and the dark of night. She could hear his voice come thru and held it near as it were her own.
"Lonely?" a detached voice asked.
Lazily she turned her head, breaking the serenity of the moment. The outline of a boy stood between her and the falling sun.
"Jerry?" she asked as she tucked the letter back into her pocket.
"Yeah, you never showed up for dinner, and I came looking for you. Remember we were planning to sneak into Hogsmeade?"
"Can we just stay here instead?" she asked.
He sat next to her, and put an arm around her shoulder. "You're freezing, how long have you been sitting here?"
"Umm, I don't know, what time is it?"
"Half past seven, I was getting a little worried."
"Jerry? Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," he said as he tucked his cloak around her. She nuzzled into his side and closed her eyes.
"Am I a bad person? I feel like no one wants me around."
"No, you're not. You've just been stuck in the wrong house. I'm sure if you were in another house you would have a better view on things."
The letter felt like a weight in her pocket, and the warning from the morning's conversation also weighed on her mind. "Jerry, I need help, I have a problem I can't work out."
"What's wrong?"
"I…" she remembered her blood vow, but there weren't any restrictions from Albus Dumbledore, "I had a disciplinary conference this morning that didn't go well. I'm not at liberty to discuss it."
"With whom?"
"I said I can't discuss it, or I may have to spend all my free time in detention. I also may have learned of a murder plot."
"Murder? Who was killed?" Jerry asked in near disbelief.
"I received a letter from a bloke that implied he knew mum and dad, and he was murdered when I was born. I thought it was a prank, but there was something about it."
"Let's see it then," Jerry insisted.
Annie shook her head, "No, I need to research some of the details."
The young couple sat in silence as the remaining light from the sun vanished. A chill blew through the trees.
"We should head to the 'surprise party', Arty really tried to pick up your spirits, you've been unhappy since the day you came here."
"I don't feel I belong here. Why did that bloody hat put me in Slytherin?" she huffed. An arm tightened around her shoulder drawing her closer.
"It doesn't matter, you're still yourself. Now shall we?"
"Jerry," she asked hesitantly, "I…"
"Shh… Let's go inside at least, you're shivering."
She closed her eyes and refused to move. Her grip around his chest tightened.
"Jerry, do you really like me or is it pity?"
The boy smiled, and answered her question in an unexpected manner, with a response of passion she never expected. Her reply was equally passionate.