━ 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
. . .
That nightAnastasia fell asleep with no trouble, but no more than a few hours later she was shaken awake. She rolled over and groaned.
"Fuck off, Granger," Anastasia mumbled into her pillow.
"I'm afraid I'm not Miss Granger," Anastasia shot up at that voice. Her heart rate sped up at the sight of Professor McGonagall standing beside her bed in a tan dressing gown. "Up, up. Come on, I don't have all night."
She waited for McGonagall to turn around to slip a shirt over her head. She quickly put on her slippers and darted after the Professor.
"Where are we going exactly?" said Anastasia, attempting to tame her hair as they approached the stone gargoyle.
"There's been an accident with Mr. Weasley," McGonagall simply answered. But what did that have to do with her? She wasn't a Weasley.
As they entered it was no surprise that Harry was standing there in sweat-covered pajamas. Anastasia stood next to Ginny who looked terrified. She wrapped an arm around the girl and rubbed her arm up and down.
Chaos was one way to describe the events in Dumbledore's office. You had Dumbledore shouting at the portraits, Harry shouting at Dumbledore, McGonagall looking over it, and the Weasley children going back and forth.
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry, Anastasia, and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ." They all gathered around Dumbledore's desk. "You have all used a portkey before?" They all nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle.
"Good. On the count of three then . . . one . . . two . . ." There was a large pause before Dumbledore said, " . . . three."
Anastasia felt a powerful jerk, the ground vanished beneath her feet, her hand glued to the kettle; she was banging into the others as all sped forward in a swirl of colors and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onward.
Her feet hit the ground and a loud voice boomed, "OUT!" They had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle.
Sirius came hurrying toward them all, looking anxious. "What's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured—"
"Ask Harry," said Fred.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George. The twins and Ginny were staring at him. As Harry explained it, Anastasia grew more and more tired.
