Anna Black, The Girl Who Lived (Book 6)

19: The Kiss

"She's your what?!"

"Ron, for the third time, Mavis is my godmother. If you ask again, I'll hex you so you can't say anything at all, let alone stupid questions," said Anna tiredly.

After seeing her absence in the dorm for the previous evening, two certain Gryffindors couldn't help but poke in her business. So, the morning had consisted of her fessing up what had happened the previous night - everything except for her reconcile with Harry.

"I do have a question, though," started Hermione carefully, "Why would you forgive Professor Mavis so quickly? You're usually not one to give in that easily...no offence."

"Well...I understand what it's like to have the evil in your life consume you. She didn't mean it-"

"Are you looking for a mother in her?" she asked, receiving a cold look from Anna.

"No. And even if I were, I bet anyone would be better than what I would've had. Leah was said to be either brilliant or a whore. Either way, I don't know enough to be attached," Anna said bitterly, resisting the temptation to fiddle with the new bracelet on her wrist.

"What does she even look like?" asked Ron. The blonde handed her a photo from her bag, the one she'd kept from Sirius' funeral. "Bloody hell, your mum was hot!"

"Ron, you're a disgusting git," muttered Harry, snatching the picture back. He caught Anna's thankful eyes, returning her small smile. "Anyway, are you ready for the match today?"

The redhead turned dangerously pale, the bright maroon and yellow of his uniform a strange contrast to the sheen of his sudden paper skin. "Don't remind me...is it too late to drop out of the team?"

"Stop it, you'll do fine, it's only the first game!"

The past week had been a rough one for Ron and everyone that encountered him. The ginger was a painfully inconsistent and self-deprecating player. He also had anger issues, becoming loud and violent multiple times. 

These issues wove their way into the four's friendship as well. Ron was especially mean to Hermione, constantly shutting her down and ignoring anything sensible she had to say. Anna saw the likeness of an old married couple between them, both constantly fighting with neither backing down. 

Harry was the only one who could talk sense into the red-head. He was a perfect mixture of kind and stern, encouraging and harsh, any two traits that could balance on a razor blade. 

"Ron, calm down," said Harry carefully, holding back a smile. "You haven't even had a substantial breakfast or anything to drink...What do you want? Pumpkin juice, coffee, or tea-"

"I want to starve!" he yelled dramatically, receiving confused looks. Ron sighed and put his head down in defeat, mumbling 'pumpkin juice'.

Harry made mild conversation, pouring the juice and bringing out a vial of golden liquid as well. He tipped it over the drink quickly before giving the glass to Ron. "Cheers, mate."

"Don't drink it!" exclaimed Hermione, "He put something in it, he's even holding the evidence!"

"You're mental," said Anna with a smirk, watching Harry put away the bottle quickly.

"I couldn't care less. I hope you poisoned me." And with that, the ginger tipped the drink back, downing it in a gulp.

Hermione's eyes were lit with anger, "He probably did! I'm going to go before he drops dead!"

"You're not invited to the funeral!" called Ron after her, receiving a glare.

They ate and chatted, trying to distract Ron from his impending doom. After a bit, Anna felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around, greeted by a pair of electric-blue eyes that held pride, but also a bit of hurt and confusion. She had a feeling it had to do with her standing him up the previous night. "Caspar? What-"