Chapter Text
The Prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor were exquisite, from the giant pool to the shining, marble floor and the enormous windows, the stunning view was comparable to a Roman Bath. Hidden behind the portrait of Boris the Bewildered, it was a place of relaxation for Anne Lister. Naturally, she would only sneak up here after hours, since she refused bathing with other people. It wasn’t as much of a privacy issue, she was used to that, being a Quidditch-player, no it was more of the fact that the other Prefects was incapable of shutting up and given the high ceiling and stone floors and walls, it echoed. A lot. She disliked in particular that Gryffindor, fifth-year Prefect, who also happened to be their Quiddichteam’s keeper. He could boast only in the way a Gryffindor can; over the top of his lungs and not a shred of discretion. Anne Lister didn’t have to boast about her knowledge and actions, she simply let her greatness speak for itself, she thought to herself, smugly.
Anne Lister of Shibden Hall, from one of the sacred 28, was indeed a rather resourceful young witch. Being intelligent, ambitious and cunning, she was sorted into Slytherin. She remembered the hat choosing between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, until exactly 23 seconds in (she had counted them), it decided upon Slytherin. Anne hadn’t really had a preferred House, she had suspected to fall into the green/silver or the blue/bronze, so she was neither surprised nor disappointed. Needless to say, she had always felt welcomed and at home in the dungeon common room, although, she admitted, the location deep in the castle made it slightly difficult to sneak out of bed. But Anne Lister isn’t the one who to back down from a challenge.
Unfortunately, her friend (and occasional lover-ish? It's complicated) Mariana wasn’t as brave as her. It just wasn’t as fun to sneak around the castle as it had been with her. When they had found the secret tunnels out of the castle and smelling the fresh air of forest, rearranging the statues and portraits or making out in that special room on the 7th floor. Those were the nights she lived for.
She submerged herself under the surface of the pool-water with a Bubble-head Charm, thinking about old, simpler times before that Lawton-fellow came along. In hindsight, she should have been suspicious over the fact that Mariana started to request bringing Charles more frequently on their adventures. She made bubbles with her wand, trying to make them look like the boy who stole Mariana from her, and then slicing them with her wand. Charles Lawton, what a pathetic boy with a pathetic name. It felt really satisfying the first time, the second not so much, and not at all the third time. So, Anne decided to stick her head out of the water again, the pressure had started to get to her ears, and when doing so, she spotted something unexpectantly. She wasn’t alone anymore.
Before her stood a girl from the year below her, a Hufflepuff if she remembered correctly. She was standing with her back turned against Anne, while undressing, humming quite loudly. Anne pondered what to do, she had never, not even once, been stumbled upon here in the middle of the night, especially since it is a guaranteed Mariana-free zone. She could see three possible courses of action:
- She makes her present know immediately, probably startling the girl, but being honest of not trying to spy on her naked body.
- Do nothing and wait for the girl to turn around and spotting Anne for herself, realising that she had been there all along without saying anything while she had been undressing and humming.
- Cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself, sparing both of them the embarrassment.
Really, the question was where on the scale from Honest to Asshole she felt like placing herself on today. She had already cast a rather nasty jinx after that Lawton-boy today, so she probably was in need of good karma. With an internal sigh, she cleared her voice loudly. The girl jumped and her wand emitted a loud, red spark which left a black mark on the white marble wall. She turned around a millisecond later, still clutching her wand tightly. Anne could see in the girl’s face that she wasn’t angry or embarrassed, as Anne would've been. No, she was frightened as if expecting to see her axe-murderer right before her own demise. Pfft, typically Hufflepuffs, Anne thought, somewhat amused.
“Good evening.” She said, unnecessarily pompous, with a barely contained smirk. The girl simply stared and blinked at her.
“Well, I would get up to properly introduce myself, but I am as naked as one can be so…. Either way, I am Anne Lister. I don’t think we’ve met before?
Anne looked inquiringly at her new company, whom just couldn’t get out of that paralyzed state. She seemed to, at the very least, relax a little bit now since she had established that she wasn’t about to be killed. She dropped her wand, which let out a few hurtful sparks when it hit the ground. The sparks hit the girl’s ankle, which finally snapped her to senses. It looked a bit comically, but Anne had enough sense not to laugh.
“Ouch, oh shoot! Christ. Ann you complete idiot!”
“Ehm, excuse me??” Who was this girl, calling Anne an idiot? She hadn’t even laughed at her.
“What? No! My name is Ann too. Oh no, I can see why the confusion. And I’m an idiot for dropping my wand, it has unicorn in it, and they say the hair can die if I’m not careful. Not that it matters, since I obviously am a glorified squib…”
Anne felt a tad uncomfortable at the unexpected burst of personal information quickly spoken from this half-naked Hufflepuff girl, whom she had just met. She also felt a slight scepticism at this explanation; who would overshare so much, if it wasn’t just a cover-up for a lie? The girl, whilst cluthing her burnt ankle, clearly in pain, must have sensed this doubt, for she continued,
“No really, my name is Ann… Ann Walker. From... ehm… Halifax!” she looked relieved at remembering her own name and hometown. Was it really true that all Hufflepuffs are a bit slow?
“Alright, miss Ann from Halifax, what are you doing intruding on my bath-hour?” she didn’t mean to sound so intimidating and rude, it just slipped out, just like her resting-wench-pout*. Ann from Halifax looked a bit defeated.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I kept… -kept shivering. Catherine told me to stop it, but I co-couldn’t. Catherine is my friend. And co-cousin, actually. Catherine Rawson.”
“So, you came here to stop shivering?”
“Yes, and I didn’t expect someone to be here already, there usually isn’t at this hour. It’s past midnight? I am so sorry I disturbed you, miss Lister.” She looked as if she was on the brink of tears. Anne felt guilty, since the girl clearly tried to be extra polite after accidentally calling her an idiot.
“Hey, no need to apologise, or to call me miss Lister. Just say Anne.”
Ann from Halifax nodded slightly, but her shoulders still hung alarmingly low. Now that she was sitting down, with the bigger part of the chock gone away, Anne could indeed see that she was shivering.
“Ann, you ought to either get into the warm water, or put some clothes on again. You’ll freeze.”
The Hufflepuff nodded again, looking from the steaming hot water, to the pile of school-robes on the floor. She had, evidently, put on her school-uniform to walk from her dormitory to here, in the middle of the night, when she should be in bed? Bless her, Anne thought, and how curious. She didn’t even seem to take notice of the scotch mark on her ankle anymore.
“It’s a lot warmer in here, and if you keep me company now, I can walk you back to the Hufflepuff common room later.” Anne smiled at the little Ann. She looked a bit happier, but still had some doubts.
“Ann from Halifax, I assure you, my word as a true Lister of Shibden Hall, that I won’t bite you.” Ann looked up from the pile of clothes and directly into Anne’s deep, brown eyes, her own blue eyes lit up as she smiled, as if the last guarantee settled it. She picked up her wand from the floor and polished it a little with the sleeve of her robe. With a slow swish of her wand over the ankle, she quietly healed her injury. Anne was impressed, a healing, non-verbal spell? From someone calling themselves a squib?
“Alright, miss Lis... Anne! I’ll join you.”
Out of common decency, Anne looked pointedly away while little Ann undressed the last bit and slid carefully down in the water. She lit out a little sigh as the warmth relaxed her shivering body. It struck Anne, just how pretty this girl, her namesake, was. Yet, there was something troubling Anne, so she asked,
“So, Ann from Halifax, what did you mean earlier, with your wand being delicate? You see, I am quite fascinated by wand-lore.”
Ann opened her eyes again, and stared into Anne’s, but looked away quickly, as if burnt by her gaze. Looking down at the pink bubbles, which oddly resembled a boy who was in her own House Ann though, before answering,
“Well, my wand’s core is Unicorn Hair, and Mr. Ollivander told my aunt and me, that those wands aren’t as powerful and is quite delicate, and if mishandled, the hair can ‘die’ and need to be replaced. My aunt said, that since my magic isn’t too strong, I needed to be extra careful with it.”
“She said that, when you were 11? Before actually going to Hogwarts?”
“Well yes, since my older siblings were so adept at magic, they all just supposed… I guess... that I wasn’t.”
She gave Anne a faint smile, as if trying to signal that she was fine. It was all fine. Just perfectly fine.
“Ann… I have never, ever, heard of someone who dropped the magic out of their wand. I don’t think it can happen. Besides, there are plenty of children who don’t show much sign of magic until they’re ‘older’.”
“Where you one of them, Anne?” she looked at Anne with her piercing blue eyes, demanding the truth, whatever it was.
“No… I… I was quite early, I suppose.” Anne smiled apologetically at little Ann from Halifax. How curious, she had never felt the need to apologise for who she was before. She had always, no matter what, held her head up. But now? This was different. She wanted to say the things to make Ann feel better, for some reason unbeknownst to Anne.
“You see, Anne! You probably don’t even know anyone who is as terrible at magic as I am. And then my wand ended up being Willow and Unicorn hair, of course, which is the worst combination they said.” Anne quickly came to think of her sister Marian, before establishing that that was a bit uncalled for.
“They? Who are they? Your parents?”
“No, my parents died when I was small... Dragonpox... My siblings and I, we were raised by our other relatives, our Aunt primarily. But I have a whole tribe of them.”
She sighed hopelessly and poured some water over her sad face. Ann looked back up at her, as if struggling with daring to ask a question.
“Anne, what’s your wand?”
Anne picked up her own wand, she was proud and fond of it. She had never had a single issue with it, it always did exactly as she wanted it to, without any fuss. A better wand for her didn’t exist. Turning it over in her hand, its beautifully carved handle, it emitted a warm sensation, telling Anne that it was quite happy over the partnership too.
“Mine is Cedar-wood with a Dragon Heart-string. 13 inches and unyielding.”
“Oh… and what does that say about you?” Anne could see that little Ann looked anxious, as if she was suspecting to find out that Anne played in whole other league than herself. Anne smiled reassuringly, but with a smirk hiding just below the surface.
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly!”
“Well honestly, it mostly means that I am an arrogant ass and both my wand and I know it.” She said it abruptly and matter-of-factly. Little Ann looked shocked for a millisecond, then burst out laughing. Anne chuckled a little too, all too pleased with herself after making her newly found friend laugh. They was all too common in Anne's eyes, people who placed much more value in the supposed powers of the wand, forgetting that the witches own ability usually made the difference.
Determinedly to keep little Ann from Halifax happy, she decided to change the subject, instead of berating her family-members for their wand-ignorance.
“So, you’re from Halifax, Ann?” Her new friend was still laughing, so she only nodded as an answer. Anne continued,
“How funny! My ancestral home is located there, Shibden Hall, I visit it a few weeks per summer. I usually, though, spend my time in London.”
“I’m living near Lidgate, in our home called Crow Nest. My father built it.”
“Oh Ann, we’re practically neighbours.” She dared a little flirtatious smile. Little Ann smiled back at her, a hint of blush on her cheeks.
They were quiet a little while, both enjoying the warm water. Anne slid down a little bit further, so her chin was directly above the surface, leaning her head back onto the pool’s edge. She considered Ann Walker. She was indeed a curious thing. If she strained her memory, she could remember seeing her occasionally in the corridors, in the background of the blabbering Catherine Rawson’s gang. Ann seemed to have been given the role of the quiet and cute sidekick. Anne’s own intuition, which was almost always correct, told her, however, that there was a lot more to Ann Walker than met the eye. And now with Mariana being extra much like herself, Anne definitely had the time to figure out just who little Ann was. She was already intrigued, but realised she had to go carefully forward with her, so as not to cross the mark.
Anne was deep in her own thoughts when Ann brought her back. She didn’t like silence while with other people.
“Anne, how come I didn’t see you when I walked in? I am not sure, but I could have sworn, that the pool was empty when I arrived.”
Anne sat up straighter and met little Ann’s carefully curious gaze. She realised that Ann probably was thinking the same about her; that she needed to move carefully forward. It suddenly became a game of wizard’s chess. Well, wasn’t that interesting?
“Well, Ann, I sometimes prefer being under water. It can help me to think straight. I used a Bubble-head Charm, of course. Gilly weed is quite expensive and frankly, too nasty for my taste.” Little Ann looked at her with wonder and admiration. Proud burst out in Anne Lister’s chest before she could stop it.
“I can teach you, if you’d like?” she added.
Ann was just about to answer when there came an odd noise, sort of like a duck's quack, from a pocket of Anne Lister’s neatly folded night-robe. She sighed and rolled her eyes, reaching up after it, with most of her upper body over the surface. In the corner of her eye, she could see little Ann looking at her for a few seconds then turning her head away in that telling “I wasn’t looking!”-way.
The thing that had made the sound was her silver pocket-watch she had gotten as a birthday-gift from her Aunt and Uncle when she had turned six years old. She had wished for it after spotting it in the store where she and her Aunt had visited for “fun”. Last summer, her sister Marian had jinxed it to quack every even-numbered strike; it was obviously two o’clock already. Maybe it was time to make her way down to the dungeons again, to her four-poster bed? She hadn’t forgotten her promise to little Ann in exchange for her company.
“Ann, I think it’s time to go to bed now.” Ann looked visibly disappointed.
“Ann, don’t worry, we’ll meet again soon. I promise. We could play chess? Or even gobstones, I suppose.” Little Ann nodded in agreement, looking a little more cheerful.
They made it out of the pool, Ann a bit flustered. After getting dressed, Anne opened the door quietly and peeked carefully outside. The corridor was deserted. She opened the door more and held it open for Ann to pass her. When the door closed, she offered little Ann an arm and asked, as smoothly as she could,
“Well miss Walker of Halifax and Crow’s Nest, please lead the way to the Hufflepuff common room.”
She had anticipated that Ann would be confused or in any other regard refusing to play the game, but she was surprised. Little Ann simply smiled sweetly, took the arm Anne had offered her and answered,
“Certainly, miss Lister of London and Shibden Hall, nothing would make me happier.”
They smiled at their ridiculous game, which they knew they would stick to henceforth, and started to walk towards the staircase leading down towards the Great Hall and the corridor towards the kitchens.
*Resting bitch-face was a too modern expression, according to my girlfriend.