Chapter 13
The Yule Ball was a magical experience. Anya and Harry danced until they couldn’t anymore and spent what felt like the entire night talking. It was like a dream. They had found a small alcove high above the castle to stare down at the flickering lights of the castle tower. They were completely alone.
“Wow.” Anya breathed. “This Castle… it’s even more beautiful than you said.”
She stepped up on top of the battlements and stared down over the edge. Harry, used to her reckless behavior by now, watched as she looked out over the horizon, her pink dress fluttering in the wind.
“I wish I could live here.” She said. “We could call it… Anya’s Castle.”
Harry laughed. She smiled and turned around to face him.
“I can see why you like it here.” She said. “Why you never want to come home.”
His smile faded. She leapt down to stand beside him. She had never been tall, and although he wasn’t tall himself he still towered over her.
“Can you blame me?” He asked. “There’s nothing for me outside of Hogwarts. I have Sirius, and I have you. Everything else…”
“Is here.” Anya said. “But you won’t be in school forever.”
“Yeah.” Harry said. His voice was glum. “I know.”
“That isn’t a bad thing.” She chided. “You’re going to have a great life after school. I know it.”
“Hogwarts is the first place I’ve ever felt at home.” Harry said. “I can’t just… leave it.”
“You should look into teaching here.” Anya suggested. “If you’re that serious about never leaving. I’m sure Dumbledore would love to have you.”
“A teacher…?” Harry repeated. “What would I teach?”
“Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Anya said immediately. “Moody is leaving at the end of the year, right?”
He grimaced. “I don’t want kids asking me about Voldemort all the time.”
“Just tell them in your very first lesson that you won’t tolerate questions about that.” Anya said. “Easy.”
“You have it all figured out, huh?” Anya looked down at noticed that his hand was holding hers. Her heart fluttered.
“If we’re still together.” She said. “I’ll get to come here more too.”
“If?” Harry asked.
“Well, one of us could die.”
It was a pretty dark joke, one that she almost regretted, but the mood between them was so light and fluffy that he actually laughed.
“Most people don’t marry the first person they date.” Harry said.
“My parents got married before their first date.” Anya told him. “Before they even knew each other, actually.”
“Really?” He was surprised.
“Yes.” Anya said. “During the period of tension between Ostania and Westalis, single women were being singled out by the government as being potential spies from Westalis. My Mother… well, she decided to get married purely to avoid being discriminated against.”
“I never knew that.” He said, surprised. “They’re so happy together.”
“It’s probably why they’re only just having a child now.” Anya said. “It took them a long time to truly fall in love, I think.”
She fell silent. It suddenly dawned on her that she had never really so much about her family life to anyone. Although it was true that she had neglected key details… such as the fact that Yor was an assassin... she had come dangerously close to opening up about the subject. She wondered whether she ever would tell him… even if they did get married.
The thought was somehow very depressing. Growing up a child by two parents who couldn’t stop lying to each other had exhausted her, and she didn’t like the idea of continuing the trend to her children.
“I’ve always thought of Yor as being your real Mother.” Harry said. “I’m not even sure when I learned she wasn’t. Do you remember your real Mother?”
“Yor is my real Mother.” She said immediately. “Even if… well… that’s not actually true.”
She shook her head. She had to remind herself Harry didn’t know that Loid wasn’t her real Father either. “I’m worried that they’ll love the baby more than me.” She told him.
“Anya, you shouldn’t think that.” Harry said, seemingly shocked. “Why would they?”
“Because this is their first child together.” Anya said. “I’m worried that I’ll… I won’t have a place in their family from now on.” She smiled bitterly. “I’ve been replaced.”
Harry’s grip around her hand tightened.
“Anya.” He said. “Having a family is a good thing. You’re not going to lose the love of your parents… you’re going to earn the love of your brother or sister. You’re going to be there for them when your parents can’t be, and you’ll be everything to them.”
Anya stared at him, completely taken aback. And then she smiled.
“You’re right, of course.” She said. “I need to stop being so selfish.”
He didn’t understand, not completely. He didn’t know that Loid wasn’t her father either and that this would be the first time that either of her parents had looked after their own child. But she was still part of their family, and she owed it to them to look after her new sibling, no matter what.
…
The months passed by in a flash. Ginny Weasley had taken to sending her dungbombs via owl post that she had to throw into the Dursley’s lawn to get rid of. Her old friend Becky Blackbell, to her very great surprise, sent her Mother a congratulatory bouquet for the baby. And perhaps most shockingly of all… Uncle Yuri took time off from his position to come visit, for the first time ever.
Her father’s friend Franky, who she always liked to think of as her uncle from her Father’s side of the family, came by as well and the days leading up to the birth of Yor’s child were full of good cheer and celebration.
As she had the year before, Anya spent a lot of her time in Grimmauld Place with Harry and Sirius. This year, however, Ron and Hermione came to stay with them as well. They spent a lot of their time exploring London, showcasing muggle culture to a baffled Ron, and occasionally made their way into Diagon Alley, where it was Anya’s turn to be bamboozled.
It was after one of these outings when she returned home late at night to find no one at home. She turned to the door, frowning slightly, and took note of the note in the kitchen.
“BABY IS COMING.”
In a panic she was back out into the street again, making her way to the hospital where the baby would be delivered. It took a while for her to find it. It was very late already and she had a lot of trouble making her way there.
But in the end she made it. Her father sat, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him, and Uncle Yuri looking almost as nervous. Anya blocked her mind and tried to meditate through it all. Reading the thoughts of those around her who were sick and dying was almost unbearable for her.
Someday, I’ll be dead too. She had to remind herself. She couldn’t let herself feel guilty about the suffering of others. Today was a happy day. Today a new life would be born, and that life would be tied to hers forever.
It was hours and hours. The longest night she had ever experienced in her life. It was so long, in fact, that she ended up falling asleep in her chair, only to be roused by a cry.
“It’s a boy!”
Her eyes fluttered, and she stood up, bleary eyed. Her mind was bombarded with the thoughts that surrounded her and she had to stop for a moment to gather her thoughts.
She stepped into the room to see the crowd gathered around the bed.
“He looks like you.” Yuri said. “He has our red eyes.”
Anya yawned, rubbing her eye, as she stepped into the room. She did a quick sweep with her powers, consuming the wide range of thoughts in the room, and got her first look at her baby brother.
Red, snake like eyes stared up at her from the inside of the cloth. She took in a deep breath as an intense feeling of malevolence arose from her.
“Surprised?” Lord Voldemort thought smugly, as Yor hugged him tightly.
“His name is Tom.” She said. Voldemort’s eyes flickered up at her, clearly displeased, as Loid nodded and smiled.
“A wonderful name.” He said. “Anya? Come have a look at your baby brother.”
She stopped forward and stared directly at him. It was unmistakable. It really was him.
“Do not say a word.” Voldemort warned her. “You will not be believed.”
“He’s adorable.” Anya breathed, trying desperately to hide her shock. “Tom… such a lovely name. I was worried you would call him something stupid, like Lord Voldemort.”
Tom shot her a disgusted look as Yor giggled.
“No, his name is Tom.” She said. “It feels right.”
The nurse came in and informed them that their visit was over, and that Yor needed to rest. Loid was allowed to stay in the room as Anya and the others trooped out of the room.
“Those eyes.” Yuri was saying. “They really did look like my sister’s.”
He seemed very pleased about the whole thing. But Anya’s attention was fixed squarely right in front of her.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting in the waiting room, his thumbs crossed. Anya approached him immediately.
"Explain." She said, her voice enraged.
'I can understand your confusion." Dumbledore told her. “Let me be brief. Voldemort has chosen to resurrect himself through childbirth. He possessed the body of your Mother’s unborn child and made it his own. The two are inseparable. For all intents and purposes, Lord Voldemort is your Mother’s son.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Anya demanded.
“His belief.” Dumbledore said. “Was that by utilizing your relationship with Harry Potter as your sibling would give him leverage when it comes to overpowering the magical defenses Harry’s Mother gave him when she died protecting him from Voldemort. Your love for Harry would give him an opening, you see, from the love his Mother imparted on him.”
Her head was spinning.
“As your sister.” Dumbledore said. “He should be able to overcome those barriers and deal Harry serious harm.” He paused. “He should have been. If he hadn’t made one critical error.”
He stood up.
“I hope that you will excuse me.” Dumbledore said. “I would like some time alone with Tom.”
He made his way past her deeper into the hospital. Anya stood there staring at the seat he had just vacated, her mind whirling with shock and rage.
Her little brother was a monster. But somehow, the realization didn’t bother her nearly as much as she thought it should have.