The Dark Lords Daughter 2: Slytherins Heir *completed*

Listen to Me

"Anna? Anna, can you hear me? Anna?" Disjointed voices swirled round my head, they wash around tumbling over each other and jumbling words. I groaned as the pain in my head intesified.

"I think she's waking up." Hermione? I could hear her, but not see her. My eyes heavy, refused to open knowing the stabbing pain waiting with the certain light.

"Anna?" Harry?

"Anna. She did hit her head pretty hard. Maybe she's brain damaged." Ron?

"Shush, Ron. She's fine, just give we a moment." Neville?

"Anna?"...Oliver. My eyes fluttered, opening slightly. I was right, light shone brightly directly into my eyes. It sent shooting pains into my already aching head. I moaned raising my hand to cover my sensitive eyes. I peered round the room and slowly sat up, aided by unknown hands. I ran my hand over my hair and winced as my fingers brushed over a swollen lump.

"Ow." I croaked and a round of giggles chorused through the room.

"Anna? Are you alright?" I peeked over to my left, finding Hermione stood next to me. I was currently sat on a bed, who's I was unsure though I doubt I really cared.

"I'm fine, just a dizzy flash is all." I tried to stand, but swayed precariously, resulting in a pair of hands clasping my waist and guiding me back down.

"Woah, too fast." I giggled, trying to lighten the somber mood.

"We should take her to the hospital wing." I looked up, spotting Seamus' worried eyes through the crowd.

"Yeah, we should." Harry agreed.

"Umm...no we shouldn't." I gaped round at everyone, quite annoyed at being talked about, as though I wasn't sat right next to them.

"Anna we need to get you checked out, people don't just faint for no reason." I scowled at my fellow Gryffindor girl.

"I have a reason, I'm ill. That's it, end of story. I am not going to the infirmary." I folded my arms stubbornly across my chest.

"Anna, come on?" Ron whined like a child.

"No. I'm not going." I pouted at their over protectiveness.

"I'll take her, make sure she gets there." I turned and my eyes met familiar hazel orbs.

"No." It came out harsher than I'd planned and I watched Oliver's face drop.

"Sorry guys, but I told you I'm fine." I stood again, this time standing solidly for a few seconds, before trying to walk.

"Besides Harry needs to report a thef- what happened." I began to walk towards the door the calls of my friends echoing behind me, but my mind was on one thing. I needed to find Dumbledore. I walked swiftly, avoiding as many students as possible. I reached his office and let myself in.

"Professor? Professor!" I shouted desperately, but no reply came.

"Albus Dumbledore is away, young lady. He has gone to London to the Ministry of Magic. On orders of the minister, himself." I turn to the portrait who had spoken.

"London? So do you know when he will be back? It's important that I speak to him, as soon as possible." I urged and the painting nodded in understanding.

"I'll tell him as soon as he's back, what's you name, dear?" He asked taking out a pen and paper from he desk he sat at.

"Uh- Lockheart. Anna Lockheart." He scribbled it down quickly and then smiled.

"You know, I don't recall a Lockheart when I was headmaster. Are you, muggle-born?" I sighed.

"Not exactly." I mumbled, unwilling to talk about my "made up" bloodlines. I turned and left, disheartened by Dumbledore's absence. I went to find the next best thing.

   The hallways were bustling as student tried to make their way to their lessons and I was  pushed and shoved from side to side. Up in front I could just see the tall pointed hat of my target. She called out directions to classrooms and at the elder students to button their top button and straighten their tie. I managed to break out of the stream if people.

"Professor!" I called over the roar of stamping feet and chattering pupils.

"Professor McGonagall!" She couldn't hear me.

"Third year History of magic has been moved to room 1226. Yes...that's right, to your left."

"Professor!" I shouted again, before being shoved towards the wall. I growled in frustration and climbed up onto the bench positioned in a small crevasse.

"Professor!" Nothing, not even a glance. I lowered myself off my heightened platform, I focused on my goal and put my head down. I scramble my way through, eventually reaching the green robed woman.

"Professor?" I called relived when the transfiguration teacher turn and met my gaze.

"Anna? Anna what is it?" She asked her eyes wide and constantly searching the corridor, of misbehaving students or lost first years.

"Professor, I need to talk to you." I said quickly, my eyes flickering round for listening ears.

"Not now, Anna. I'm busy." She swatted away my desperate voice, like a fly.

"But, Professor. It urgent." I followed her through the crowd.

"Later, Anna." Her tone was tested, annoyed and my persistence.

"Professor, you don't understand. It's about the Chamer of-"

"Anna! I said later!" I stood frozen at her harsh words, as she fixed me with a steely gaze. She continued on, leaving me alone in the sea of people. If she wouldn't listen, who would?