Belladonna

The Potter That Doesn't Exist

Belladonna 30

The Potter That Doesn't Exist

16 June 1994

When Ana came to, she thought—she hoped—it had all been a terrible dream. She hoped she'd open her eyes and she'd be in her dorm surrounded by her friends, or maybe even napping on the grounds. Professor Lupin would still just be her Professor. Harry would still be Potter. And Sev wouldn't have been lying to her for twelve years.

Instead, when she opened her eyes Ana found she was in the hospital wing. Her head was still buzzing lightly, but otherwise, she felt fine. It was quiet in the hall, as it should be because it was barely dawn outside. In the bed, across from her lay Ron. His leg was bandaged and propped up. Next to him was Harry, and Hermione was in the bed beside her; they were all asleep.

Ana couldn't sleep, not anymore. Not that she'd slept much in the first place. Her dreams...her flashes of memory kept her mind too active to rest. She needed answers. She needed the truth, and she needed to hear it from Sev. So, she threw the blankets off of her and left.

Ana wasn't expecting to find anyone in the corridors this early, so she was surprised when she came across Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Evans, I thought you'd still be recovering," she said.

"I'm recovered," Ana replied shortly. McGonagall arched a brow. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"Rough night?"

Ana wasn't sure what to say; she didn't know how much McGonagall knew, so she said nothing about the night or what happened.

"Do you know where Professor Snape is?" she asked instead.

"I believe he is with Professor Dumbledore, in his office."

"In the Headmaster's office?"

McGonagall nodded. Ana thought about it for a moment but didn't believe she had any other choice.

"Will you take me there, please? I need to speak to Sev."

"I..."

"It's urgent, Professor. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't. I need... I need to...I just need to speak to him."

McGonagall hesitated for a moment before turning down a hall and instructing Ana to follow her. Ana was sure this went against McGonagall's better judgment, but perhaps Ana's distress was more plainly evident than she realized. They walked in silence, and Ana was grateful for it. Her mind was still too chaotic for small talk. They finally stopped before a stone griffin sitting in an archway.

McGonagall turned to Ana. "Be sensible, Miss Evans. You may be hurting, but that is no reason to lose one's mind. And keep in mind... he is your father."

"He's not my..."

"He raised you like a daughter, didn't he? He fed you, clothed you, saw to it that you had all the necessities you needed. He may not be Father of the Year, but he did what he could. Remember that. Honor that. And find a way to forgive that."

"After what he did...I'm not sure I can."

"Then all I ask is that you try." She turned back to the statue. "Licorice wand."