𝔸 𝕊𝕡𝕪 𝕀𝕟 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕥 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was difficult for her to believe that she and Harry Potter had been together for a year already.

"We haven't seen him here in a long time." Yor said, when the subject came up over breakfast.

"You're not sneaking up to London to see him, are you?"

"I'm not sneaking anywhere." Anya said, annoyed. "I tell you every time I go."

"But you have gone by yourself." Loid pointed out.

Anya groaned and looked down at her oatmeal.

She was now fourteen and really starting to feel as if her Father was becoming a tad bit overbearing.

This summer she had seen less of Harry than she had since she had met him.

He had, as he had planned, not returned to Privet Drive, instead returning to Number 12: Grimmauld Place, which was in London.

It wasn't terribly far, but they had grown up together on Privet Drive.

And since Harry had very good reason to want to stay away from Privet Drive, Anya found herself travelling up to Grimmauld Place on her own every weekend.

Her Father had given her very strict instructions to never stay overnight, and had told Sirius that he wouldn't allow Anya to come if she did, so she had to take the trip there and back every day she wanted to go down there.

It was wearing her out.

Sirius was very kind to her, and extremely appreciative of what she had done to bring Peter Pettigrew to justice.

Yet she felt a strange sense of isolation whenever she joined he and Harry for dinner.

They were becoming a family.

A family that she was not really a part of.

She found herself thinking about that a lot as she travelled back and forth from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place.

Harry and Sirius had no secrets between each other.

They talked about everything, and already were growing rather close.

Her own family lied to each other constantly for one reason or another, and only she had ever really picked up on it.

Her parents had gotten married out of a sense of duty and obligation.

It had been a convenience for them.

They had no trust in each other to be honest about who they really were and what they wanted to accomplish with their lives.

As a child Anya had simply rolled with it: she had been satisfied with the simple feeling of having parents who looked after her.

But these days she began to feel as if things were about to fall apart.

She was spending more and more time out of the house, and without her, the one thing that kept her parents together in spite of often being on opposite sides of any given conflict.

Things might never be the same again.

She didn't talk about her problems with Harry.

She didn't want to ruin what was likely the happiest time in his life by talking about her problems.

She sat up in his room, the door firmly closed, while he talked incessantly about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.

She had never seen him so excited.