The next morning at breakfast, Anne wandered over to her usual spot, yawning and bleary-eyed. But she stopped short when she saw it, Fanny wasn't there.
That's odd. Fanny was always up early. Where could she have gone?
Anne pulled a plate of blueberry scones toward herself and poured a cup of warm milk. Just as she took a bite of scone, Fanny slammed down into the seat next to her, fuming.
Anne had just opened her mouth to ask what happened when Fanny launched into a tirade like a dam bursting.
"The first Quidditch match is set for October 30th. That should be great news, right? It's my debut as an official commentator! And it's a match against Gryffindor, which makes it even better, we only lost to them by twenty points last year!"
"When I found out the date and teams, I was thrilled! I ran to find Urquhart right away, you know, our house Quidditch captain!"
Anne nodded. Lately, every time she saw Fanny, the girl was talking non-stop about Quidditch and the Slytherin team.
"I was hoping to dig deeper into our team's strategies and tactics, but guess what? Urquhart said there's a problem! Malfoy dropped out last week! Last week! He's the Seeker!"
"Oh, I was so, ugh! I went straight to Malfoy, and you know what he told me? He said, with the most awful attitude, 'It's just some meaningless Quidditch match,' and then walked off up the stairs like nothing happened! Can you believe that?!"
"Deep breaths," Anne said soothingly, handing Fanny a steaming cappuccino.
Fanny took a sip, then slammed the cup down. "And to think I went out of my way to watch every single one of their practice matches just to understand their playing style!"
"There, there." Anne patted her back. "I know how much effort you've put into this commentary gig. It's frustrating to run into trouble right before the match. But hey, think calmly. It's not unsolvable."
"You've got an idea?" Fanny grabbed Anne's arm eagerly. "Help me!"
"You're just a little too worked up. If they're short one player, can't they just pick the next best from last year's tryouts?"
"Anne, there were no tryouts this year," Fanny said. "They just reused last year's lineup because no one graduated."
"Oh. Well… then how about organizing one now?"
"There are only twelve days left!" Fanny groaned. "And there's no free time on weekends to book the pitch! Weekdays are packed, every year has different class schedules. That's what Urquhart's been stressing over for a week!"
"Then shouldn't Urquhart know which students are good flyers or potential Seekers?"
"Honestly? I don't think so," Fanny said. "He prefers internal recommendations. And frankly, he's a bit arrogant. I don't know why Professor Snape made him captain."
"I doubt Professor Snape pays much attention to Quidditch anyway," Anne muttered. Snape's lack of people skills certainly didn't help when it came to spotting or managing talent, but she kept that thought to herself.
So, how do we find a promising Seeker quickly?
"Aha!" Anne's eyes lit up. "Let's talk to Madam Hooch after class. No one knows the students' broom-flying skills better than she does!"
"You're a genius!" Fanny hugged her. "This is perfect!"
That afternoon, guided by Madam Hooch's suggestions and the top flying grades from every year above second, Anne shortlisted five names.
"Here, give this list to Urquhart. Actually, scratch that, you explain it to him yourself and pick a day for testing. He'll have to work with you," Anne said. "And just in case, get all five involved in training, they can be reserves."
"That way, the team will be way more adaptable going forward, and you won't have to run tryouts every time!"
"Anne!" Fanny said joyfully. "You should be the Slytherin captain! Our chances of winning would skyrocket!"
"Oh no, please no." Anne waved her hands quickly. "I really don't want another responsibility."
Fanny looked slightly disappointed but brightened again after a moment. "Then at least promise me I can come to you for help next time I run into trouble!"
"I actually think you would do a better job than me," Anne said seriously. "You've got the theory down, and with a few matches under your belt, you'll have the practical knowledge too, not to mention your sharp eye as a spectator. Trust me, you're the right fit."
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That evening in the library, Hermione was unusually distracted while doing homework, which was rare.
"What's wrong?" Anne leaned over and whispered near her ear.
"N-nothing," Hermione said.
Anne glanced at Hermione's work and pointed to an obvious mistake. "That word should be 'peculiar,' not 'peakuliar.'"
Hermione immediately corrected it.
"Daydreaming? That's not like you," Anne teased.
Hermione looked a bit torn. Anne's clear amber eyes met hers, unwavering.
Anne reached out and placed a hand over Hermione's, leaning her head gently against hers.
"You don't have to tell me," she said softly, "Just like you never pressed me when I was upset. But I want you to know something, Hermione. The moment I confessed to you, and you said yes… that moment meant that whatever happens, I'll face it with you."
"That's a promise," Anne added, her house badge glinting faintly on her robe. She gave Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek, and just before Madam Pince could scold them, she whispered, "If you ever feel ready to talk, come find me in the greenhouse cabin. It's safe there."
"No talking in the library!" Madam Pince hissed behind them, then turned to scold another student who was sneaking snacks.
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In the small cabin beside the greenhouse, Anne was grinding bezoar when a knock came at the door.
She waved her wand, and a shimmer of protective magic faded from the wooden door. "Come in," she called.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry entered.
"This feels familiar," Anne said with a chuckle, flicking her wand. The cabin lit up, and a few wooden crates floated to the center of the room, forming a makeshift table. A pale gray cloth flew out from Anne's bag and spread itself neatly. Next came a bottle of juice and several snack boxes.
Cups floated over from the bookshelf, and in moments, the space was set for a cozy gathering.
"What are you waiting for? Close the door. You might not be cold, but I am," Anne said, sitting in a crate.
"Anne, your silent spells have gotten so much better!" Hermione said happily, settling beside her.
"Only in here," Anne smiled. "I know the space well. Floating and summoning charms, use them enough and they become second nature." She poured Hermione a full cup of pear juice. "It's pretty good."
"This place is amazing," Ron said, looking around.
Anne lifted her cup in thanks, then turned to Harry. "All three of you coming? What is it now, another 'major event' you're dragging me into?"
Harry and Ron looked at Hermione. Then Hermione and Ron looked at Harry.
"Spit it out," Anne said, pulling Hermione close. "You three always get wrapped up in something big." She shot Hermione a teasing glance. "As for danger, well, you two boys can charge in, and the two of us can do the thinking in the back."
That broke the ice, and Harry began explaining. As he spoke, Anne pulled more treats from her bag. The whole conversation, about Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix, the Half-Blood Prince, and Harry's suspicions about Malfoy, flowed between snacks and sips of juice.
By the time Harry finished, a weight had lifted. And he could tell, he wasn't the only one who felt it. Hermione and Ron both looked more at ease, too.
"Young Voldemort, huh?" Anne twirled a Galleon between her fingers. "Fascinating. I think Dumbledore's sharing these memories so you can understand him better. There's a saying in the East: 'Know yourself and know your enemy, and you'll win every battle.'"
Harry nodded. "Hermione said something similar, understanding Voldemort might help us find his weaknesses. Is that what you meant?"
Anne and Hermione exchanged a smile. "Pretty much," Anne said. "As for your suspicions about Malfoy…"
Hermione and Ron looked a bit exasperated, both had tried to talk Harry out of it many times.
Harry ignored them and fixed his eyes on Anne.
"I can't say it's impossible," Anne said.
Harry immediately brightened. Hermione and Ron both exclaimed in disbelief.
"Anything's possible," Anne shrugged. "But I'd say, keep that thought on hold for now, Harry. You don't have any proof."
Before they could respond, she continued, "Same goes for the Half-Blood Prince. You're free to hold on to your theories and gut feelings. Once a belief forms, it's hard to shake. So go ahead, Harry, keep doubting Malfoy. Ron, Hermione, you don't have to believe it. That's okay. You all have your reasons, and there's no right or wrong."
"Dumbledore once said something I really agree with: Right now, we're walking through a fog of uncertainty. We might make mistakes, even big ones. But once we choose a path, we keep going."
"For now, all we can do is wait. Wait for more clues, and when they come, piece them together into something meaningful, something we can act on."
Later, as Anne saw the trio to the door, she hesitated, rubbed her nose, scratched her head, and finally stopped them just before they stepped out.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For trusting me."
The three of them paused.
Harry smiled. "We're friends—"
Ron grinned, "---and you're Hermione's girlfriend!"
Hermione blushed, shoved Anne back inside, and muttered, "It's cold out here..."
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The complete release can be accessed through Patreon.com/Crimson_Lore