Chapter 19
“You look stunning, Anya.”
Anya blinked her large, green eyes at the mirror in front of her. In her mind she looked the same as she always did. Small for her age, a little bit too skinny, with a smile that looked just a little bit too mischievous.
“Thank you.” She said.
Yor brushed her hair with her hand. “You don’t look very happy. Are you nervous?”
“No.”
“Hmmm.” Yor fingered her hair lovingly. It suddenly dawned on Anya just how close the two of them had become over the past several years. For all intents and purposes, Yor was her Mother.
“They say a wedding is the most important day of a woman’s life.” Yor said. “Looking at you now, I wish I had had a real one.”
“You should talk to Father about it.” Anya said. “Tell him how you feel.”
She turned. The white wedding dress fluttered as she moved.
Yor bent her head.
“I couldn’t ask that of him.” She said, her voice oddly distant. “I’m sure… he still misses your real Mother.”
Anya couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward and gave her a hug.
“You are my real Mother.” She said, her voice gentle. “We’ll talk to him together, alright?”
Yor looked as if she were about to cry.
The wedding between Anya Forger and Harry Potter was to take place at Hogwarts Castle, at the request of Harry Potter himself. Harry had initially been concerned about her muggle relations attending, but Harry assured her that the entire event was being handled by the Ministry of Magic. Muggles they knew were pouring in from King’s Cross station with no idea that they were attending a wedding at the premier school for magic in the entire world.
“Dumbledore would have wanted this.” Harry had told her, happily. She leaned into him, smiling, but said nothing.
Her Father’s friend, Franky, was deep in conversation with an English Agent named James Bond, who had worked with her father on a number of assignments. Bond, advanced in age and nearing the very end of his life, was dozing at the foot of Hagrid’s cabin. Hagrid’s giant boarhound Fang was keeping him company, watching the proceedings with a keen eye. Professor Trelawney, the Divination Professor, had come down to observe the proceedings.
“I sense a great seer amongst this crowd.” She had told Anya, eyes wide. Bond had been with her then, but her eyes, enlarged by her spectacles, flew right past him and observed only the crowd.
To her very great surprise, Harry’s relatives the Dursleys stepped off of the train platform, dressed smartly in formal attire. Vernon and Petunia hung back as Dudley approached her.
“Hello.” He said, a little bit apprehensively. He was afraid that she was going to punch him again.
“Hello.” Anya had said, amused. “I’m surprised you came.”
“Well….” Dudley cast a look behind at Vernon, who scowled. “Dad thinks that Harry did the right thing. Marrying a normal girl, and all of that.”
“A normal girl.” She repeated, bemused. “Is that what I am, now?”
“It’s what he said.” He had said, shrugging. They had sat down next to Arthur Weasley, who greeted them enthusiastically, much to the annoyance of his wife.
Thinking of the Weasleys reminded her of her encounter with Ginny. She and Harry had been exploring the castle together, and he had left her for a brief moment to attend to some wedding preparations. She turned around, and came face to face with Ginny.
They stared at each other for a bit.
“What are you planning?” Ginny hissed. She was glowering hatefully at her. Anya brushed the hair out of her face and stared at her coldly.
“I’m going to get married.” She said. “With the man I love.”
Ginny went for her wand, but Anya was faster. She threw arm forward, twisted her wrist, and thrust her against the wall.
“Ugh!”
Ginny struggled, but she had no experience in hand to hand combat like Anya did. Anya tightened her grip and pushed harder.
“Is this really how you want to live your life?” Anya asked. “Longing for a man who doesn’t care about you?”
Ginny glared up at her through her fiery red hair.
“He does care about me!” She insisted. “He saved my life!” She seemed rather close to tears.
Anya relinquished her grip on her. Ginny staggered to her feet a little, and was about to raise her wand again when Anya wrapped her arms around her and held her close.
“He does care.” She said, her voice soft and reassuring. “About everyone around him. You’re not special to him.”
She patted her on the shoulder and pulled away. Ginny stood there, awestruck, as she walked down the stairs to the castle.
“Mommy, Mommy!”
Anya was snapped back to the present by a little voice at her heel. She turned to see a little boy, blackhaired with red eyes, tugging at Yor’s skirt with his hand.
“Oh, Tom.” Yor said, surprised, as she reached down and picked him up. “Where have you been?”
“Exploring.” He said, his face evasive. He turned his gaze longingly up to the castle. “Can we live here.”
Yor hugged him. “It’s a school, sweetie.” She said.
Anya smiled softly as she looked at Tom. Her mind fell back to that moment, several weeks before.
“Why do you want to get married, Anya?”
Tom was kicking his little legs over the side of the bed.
“Why?” Anya repeated. “Because I’m in love.”
She twirled, and then laughed. Tom stared at her.
“With him?”
“Yes.” Anya said, as she bent over. “Someday you’ll meet a girl you’ll fall in love with too.”
“I don’t like him.” Tom said, bluntly. Anya gave him a look.
“Why?”
Tom struggled.
“I…. I don’t know!” He blurted. “I just don’t.”
“Did he do anything to you?” Anya asked, as she leaned forward, staring deep into his red eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Tom looked away, huffing. “Don’t remember.”
Anya straightened up. “I see.” She said. “Well, he likes you a lot.”
Tom narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He had always been, Yor said, an incredibly sharp child.
“He knows nothing about me.” He said.
“He knows that you’re my little brother, and that I love you very much.”
Tom pouted.
“If you love me so much… why don’t you marry me instead?”
Anya tapped him on the head, a little forcefully. “You’re just like Uncle Yuri.” She admonished him. “Are you jealous?”
“Jelly-us?”
Despite being incredibly precocious, Tom occasionally still struggled to pronounce or understand certain words.
“It means you want what someone else has.” Anya said. “I suppose… you don’t like the fact that I’m going to be spending more time with Harry than with you.”
Tom stared.
“Yes.” He said, after a brief pause. “That’s it, exactly.”
“You shouldn’t be jealous.” Anya said. “You’re still my little brother, and I still love you. Being jealous of other people is wrong.”
“Wrong…”
Tom bent his head. He seemed to be struggling greatly with something. He looked up at her. He looked a little bit upset.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, of course not.” Anya said. “Everyone feels jealous, sometimes. But you have to think about how other people feel too. Harry and I love each other, and want to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“I’m sorry.”
Anya gave a small start of surprise as Tom bent his head again.
“I’m sorry for being jealous.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Anya said, a little bit surprised. It wasn’t like him to be this emotional.
“I shouldn’t hate him.” Tom muttered, as if to himself. “If that makes you upset…”
He rubbed his eyes, as if he were crying. Anya reached out to touch him, gingerly…
CRACK
Anya leapt back, surprised. Tom jumped as well, casting a sharp glance at the dresser in the corner.
“What was that?”
Anya moved over to it, opened it, and pulled out the object within. It was a locket, emblazoned with a symbol of a serpent.
“Oh, it was the Horcrux.” She said.
“What’s a Horcrux?”
She turned around to face him, putting on a scary face.
“The evil lord Voldemort created seven of these to ensure that he would never die.”
Tom put on a face.
“Yeah right, Anya.”
He turned and left. Anya watched him go, and once he was safely out of the room turned back to the locket. She turned it over and over in her fingers, examining it. There was no denying it. It had been destroyed. And doubtless the same would also be true of all of the Horcruxes that remained hidden all over the land.
Voldemort had gone to great lengths to ensure his immortality, but the one thing he had never expected that he would one day feel remorse for all the evil he had done. His attempt at reincarnating himself in the pure heart of a child had failed. In the end, he had been consumed by it.
Still, however, his legacy had lived on.
“It’s the Muggle.”
She turned to see Draco Malfoy leering at her from across the halls of the Castle. She glared back at him coolly. He honestly had no idea that Voldemort was gone for good.
“This Castle.” He said. “Is becoming filthier with you in it.”
Two bystanders had looked up. One of them was a by with messy black hair, and the other was a neatly dressed girl in a beret.
“You’ll never be accepted here.” Malfoy sneered. “You-“
“Leave her alone.”
Malfoy looked up, surprised, as the bystanders came to stand by her. Damian Desmond gave him a dark look, while Becky Blackwell looked haughty and condescending.
“And who are you?” Malfoy asked, his voice rude.
“We’re her friends.” Becky said, her voice cold. “Who invited you to her wedding?”
“His father has some influence in the government.” Anya informed her. She let out a condescending noise.
“Some influence?” Becky repeated, as she sized him up. “I know his type.”
“As do I.” Damian said, his voice quiet. Anya gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.
Seeing that he was outnumbered, Malfoy quickly backed away.
“I’ll get you for this… muggles!”
And he was gone.
She was snapped out of her reverie when she came face to face with her father. He gave her a once over, and then nodded appraisingly.
She leaned forward and gave him a hug.
“Thanks.” She said, her voice muffled. “For everything.”
He hesitated.
“Anya…” He said. “You…. Do remember that I’m not your real Father. Don’t you?”
She looked up at him, and smiled.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.” She said. “You are my Father.”
It seemed that he had no idea what to say.
The wedding proceeded without much of a hitch. Dolores Umbridge , who was in attendance, passed out in fear as Yor was walking in her general direction. Nymphadora Tonks kept trying to catch her Father’s eye, but was noticed by the beautiful Agent Nightfall and politely asked to cut it out.
It was more wonderful than she ever dared dream.
And then she and Harry were alone together. They stood overlooking the grounds on the highest tower, staring out over the lake and the forest.
“I love this place.” Harry said, his voice wistful. “And everyone in it.”
Anya squeezed his hand lovingly.
“I miss him everyday.” Harry said. “Dumbledore… was like a grandfather to me.”
He let out a sob. Anya patted his arm affectionately.
“He was a good man.” Anya said. “He wanted the best for you. For all of us.”
“When he died.” Harry said. “I kept expecting Voldemort to come bursting out of hiding and take over. It might still happen. What will we do then?”
Anya cupped his cheek.
“We’ll fight.” She said, her voice firm. “If it happens. But we mustn’t forget what’s truly important.”
He smiled at her.
“And what’s that?”
“Our family.” She said, with finality.
END