Chapter 7
Being the girlfriend of Harry Potter was a lot less of a change for her than she would have thought.
“Well of course you are.” Yor said, surprised, when Anya mentioned it over dinner. “You have been for years.”
Anya glowered at her. Her Mother smiled obliviously.
“Did everyone just assume we were already a thing?” Anya asked, annoyed. When Harry had left for his third year of Hogwarts he had sent her a letter letting her know that his friends had always assumed that they had always been a couple.
“I certainly did not.” Her father said immediately. “Anya, he can’t sleep over here anymore. And don’t sleep with your door shut. And-“
“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” Anya said heavily.
“How’s he getting on with his godfather?” Yor asked, changing the subject. “Is everything going well?”
Loid narrowed his eyes. Upon being told that Harry Potter was dating his daughter he suddenly had nothing nice to say about him.
“This godfather.” Loid said. “Comes out of nowhere to take him in? I suspect foul play.”
Anya, rather wisely in her opinion, had not told him that Sirius had been in prison. Wordlessly she buttered her toast.
Harry had semi-moved in with Sirius, his godfather, before he had to go to Hogwarts. Due to legal matters, and discussions among his family, the transfer had been delayed for quite some time. In short, Harry would be leaving the Dursley for school, but once he returned he would be living with Sirius.
“Yes, that is rather strange.” Yor said. “But rather good for him, don’t you think? To get out of that house…”
Anya privately agreed. For once all of them seemed to be on the same page. None of them had ever much liked the Dursleys.
“Perhaps we should have them over for Christmas.” Yor said aloud.
“Next door to the Dursleys?” Anya asked, outraged.
“No, we should go to the godfather’s place.” Yor said quickly. “if… If he would have us, that is?”
It was an interesting question. Sirius had had his hands full moving back into his old family home. He had sacked his old house-elf and had spent a fortune rebuilding his home to remove all of his family’s old things. Anya had no idea what a wizarding house looked like: It may very well be completely impossible to invite her parents over.
“I’ll have to ask.” Anya said. And ask she did. Her next letter to Harry posed the question, and she quickly received a response.
“They’ll have us over for Christmas.” She said.
“His friends from school will be there and everything.”
“Isn’t that lovely?” Yor asked, as she cast a glance at her husband. He nodded, his lips set. At this point he had accepted that his daughter now had a boyfriend. “It’ll be nice to see how he’s getting on.”
Anya wasn’t sure just how their relationship would fare going into Christmas time: It was only just a short while ago that they she had felt that they might no longer be friends. But by the time that Christmas had rolled around, she found herself spending hours and hours with her Mother trying to pick out the perfect dress, before heading off to Number 12. Grimmauld Place.
She had been warned that the House had a number of muggle repelling charms placed on it, and that they would have to meet Harry out front to be invited inside. Loid had driven around the block a couple of times, trying to find it, before Harry waved them down.
Loid frowned as he looked at the house. “I could have sworn there was nothing here when I drove by.” He said. Anya grimaced, trying her hardest to come up with some kind of excuse. Her Father was, by his nature, extremely observant. Nothing other than the fact that his wife was an assassin ever seemed to escape his notice.
Harry led them into the house and to the dining room, where Sirius was waiting. He smiled and got to his feet, and greeted her parents. She was surprised at how normal he looked.
Ron and Hermione were sitting awkwardly at the table.
“Oh, I hope she’s nice.”
“She’s cuter than I remember.”
“Hello.” Anya said politely, as she held out her hand to Hermione. “I’m Anya Forger… you must be Hermione. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She flashed a grin at Ron. “And we have met. Briefly.”
He smiled back, but Hermione seemed a little apprehensive of her. It seemed as if that was in her nature: Harry and Ron, her best friends, had found her standoffish and rude when they had first met, and Anya could tell most other people her age felt the same way, which probably made her feel very protective of her inner circle.
Anya tried her best to be nice to her and ask her questions about herself, and she seemed to relax rather quickly, and began happily discussing her feelings regarding her life at Hogwarts with her as Sirius and her parents shared a bottle of fire whiskey.
“Oh, I wish you could see it.” Hermione sighed. “The castle is so beautiful over the holidays.”
“I do too.” Anya said. “It all sounds so fun.”
She perhaps sounded a bit more bitter than she intended: Hermione picked up on it immediately.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She said. “I didn’t mean…”
“No, it’s fine.” Anya said, trying to sound chipper.
They avoided talking about wizarding things for the remainder of the evening. They spoke a lot about their families instead. They were busy amusing themselves explaining dentistry to a befuddled Ron who had always had his teeth worked on by magic when Yor let out a hearty hiccup. She had, Anya realized, already drunk too much.
“Thannnnnnks for inviting us, Mr. Black.” She said, swaying slightly. “You’re a good man!”
Sirius looked almost completely taken aback. Anya found herself feeling a little embarrassed.
“We might have to leave soon.” She said. “My Mother’s… uh, poor at handling her alcohol.”
“We’ve been worried about Hawwy since we met him.” Yor said, a little bit too loudly. “Anya asked if we could adopt him.”
Anya felt her face turn red. She couldn’t look Harry in the eyes. She had the strong impression that Ron was laughing at her.
“We never met his parents. What were they like?”
Anya froze. She cast an anxious look at Harry, expecting the conversation the direction had taken to upset him.
But she was surprised that he felt rather happy.
“His Father was the best friend I ever had.” Sirius said. “A true friend, right to the end. I miss him every day.”
The conversation among the kids dwindled as they sat and listened to Sirius regale them all with stories of James Potter and his wife. Anya worried briefly that Sirius would be too drunk to remember that they were muggles and to let something slip, but he surprised her by talking a lot about their marriage instead.
“He liked her the instant he saw her.” Sirius said. “It took her years to start feeling the same for him.”
“Awww, exactly like Anya!” Yor gushed. Anya felt her face go red. Hermione patted her sympathetically on her shoulder.
“We can leave, if you like.” She whispered. “You can look at my Hogwarts books.”
Anya shook her head and gestured towards Harry, who was sitting enraptured. Hermione caught on immediately, and pulled away.
“They got married immediately after school.” Sirius said. “And then Harry was born.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to loom embarrassed.
“I’ve never seen James so happy.” Sirius said. “He was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his family.”
A heavy silence filled the air.
“And then he was murdered by Voldemort.”
The rest of the dinner was spent in morbid silence. Anya found herself joining Harry in lighting candles for his parents, and mourned them with him. And then it was time for them to go.
“I had a lovely time.” Anya said to Harry, as her parents made her way to the car. “I… hope we can do it again next year.”
They smiled at each other, and then Anya turned and walked down the steps.
“Murdered…” Loid was saying, as she stepped into the car.
“I had no idea.” Yor said quietly.
She was still quite drunk. She seemed quite out of it. Her eyes were flitttering open and shut. Anya was sure that she was about to pass out.
“We have to do soooooomething.” She said.
“Yor, later.” Loid said, casting a look behind at her. Anya stared at him, wishing that for once he would be honest with her about his concerns.
“Who is this Voldemort guy, Anya?” Yor asked.
“I’m not sure.” Anya said stiffly. “I’ve never asked.”
“Is he… still around?”
“Yes.”
“I seeeeee.”
To Anya’s horror, a familiar looking shadow fell across her face. She knew that look. It was the look she got every time the Shopkeeper called on her to kill someone.
…
Anya had hoped that her Mother would forget all about Voldemort when she woke up with a hangover, but unfortunately she awoke to her Mother whispering into a phone.
“Come on, this guy KILLED my Daughter’s Boyfriends parents… You have to have SOMETHING…”
“Morning Mother.” Anya said stiffly.
“Hello Anya.” Yor said, quickly knocking the automatic weapon she had laying on the bed away from her and out of sight. “I was wondering… how do you spell Voldemort?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Yor’s smile was rather fixed.
“I’m just curious, that’s why.”
“Hm.” Anya said. She debated a while on what she should do. On one hand, she had a lot of her faith in her Mother to kill people. She had long ago realized that it was basically the only thing she was good at. On the other, a part of her was unsure whether or not Voldemort could be killed.
“I’ve never asked.”
“I see.” Yor completely bought the explanation. She was extremely gullible by nature and had never really picked up on that her husband and daughter lied to her constantly about almost everything. “Well I’m sure we’ll find him.”
“We?”
“Your father is asking his friends at his job if they’ve ever heard of him.” Yor said. “It’s a small world. I’m sure someone will find him.”
Anya knew perfectly well that her father was one of the best spies in the world. She also knew that he had no idea that Witches and Wizards lived among the ordinary population. She immediately suspected that he would quickly realize there were no leads to follow.
“I found him.” Loid announced, as he walked through the door that night. Anya almost choked on her hot chocolate.
“Found who?”
“Voldemort.” He answered. “He’s hiding in the forests of Albania.”
“How did you find him?”
“It’s not exactly a common name, is it?” He asked.
“I’ve never had to track down such an elusive target in my life…”
“I asked around a lot.” Loid answered, dodging her question. “And I have inquired about the situation to the local authorities.”
“If they fail to act I will hunt him down myself.”
Voldemort must have been so active in his prime that whispers of his name had even reached the muggle world. Anya realized.
“Albania, huh?” Yor asked, placing a finger to her cheek. “Why, what a coincidence! I’m traveling there next!”
And then the next day she was gone. She had taken a wide range of poisons, weapons, and other dangerous instruments with her. Anya scarcely had time to wonder how she got away with using public airlines carrying such dangerous equipment when she came back, beaming.
“Got him!”
Anya barely had time to stop her and demand an explanation for why she looked so pleased with herself when she started rigorously scrubbing away at the kitchen table, still completely covered in blood.
…