━ 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥;
Anastasia Lupin-Black was never aware of her ulterior self. You see, she's adopted just like her other two siblings. Anastasia Lupin-Black was just a cover-up for who she truly was. For who was hidden beneath all the lies and enchant...
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. . .
The coldbreeze chilled Anastasia's face making her cheeks and nose tinge a bright red. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat and Hermione tightened her scarf.
"This is mad. Who'd wanna be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?" Harry huffed as his feet trudged in the icy snow.
"Aww, don't be so scared. I'll be right by your side." Anastasia cooed, earning a glare from Harry. She had agreed to Hermione's off that morning on one condition. Harry teaches she supervises.
Ron ignored her comment. "Look on the bright side, you can't be any worse than old toad-face."
"Thanks, Ron." Harry grimaced.
"I'm here for you, mate."
"If you're quite done flirting I'd like to know who you invited, Mione." Anastasia cut in. Hermione was the one treading in front of them and keeping quiet.
Hermione drew in a sharp breath. "Just a couple of people." She pushed open the old and squeaky wooden door. Anastasia's nose scrunched at the place.
"Lovely spot," Ron commented.
A goat walked past the old man. Anastasia gaped, "Is that a bloody goat?!"
"Don't ask questions. Thought it would be safer somewhere off the beaten track." The bushy-haired girl was the first to take a step in. Anastasia rolled her eyes and followed after her best friend.
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long gray hair and beard. He was tall and thin and Anastasia couldn't help but notice how familiar he looked.
"What?" He grunted.
"Four butterbeers, please." Hermione answered, her tone soft.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
"Eight sickles."
"I'll get them." Harry quickly added, leaning over Anastasia to pass over the silver. She didn't miss how the older man's eyes raked over Harry and rested on the scar on his forehead. He swiftly turned away and deposited Harry's money.
The quartet retracted to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhiskey—"
