✔️ 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 → 𝑐.𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦

04 | M I S S I O N

   ANASTASIA WATCHED CHARLIE enter her home, his eyes scanning the room, and a smile played on his lips as he did. However, he couldn't surpress it. It was far, far from what he had expected. All those flowers in her 'garden' had surprised him. He somehow had imagined this place as a dead space, lifeless, wasted ... But Anastasia Voinescu had chosen a paradise for her own, a bright and colorful place that really didn't fit those gruesome stories people told about her. And so didn't her home.

   High shelves bursting with books took all the space of the back of the room; the only free space was a wooden door, that Charlie assumed was her bedroom, for he didn't see a bed in this one. Plants and flowers were giving the this room the impression that it belonged to the forest outside those four walls. Sunlight was brightening every corner of a cozy home that wouldn't expect to be inhabited by what people call a monster.

   The sudden sensation of something touching his ankles, Charlie, for the first time he had met Ana, flinched. But looking down, to his surprise he found a bunch of black fur, spotted with some red and white flecks, large ears and a plumed tail.

   "A Kneazle!", he laughed, wondering what he'd expected — a devil's snare? "Well, hello little friend", Charlie said, leaning down to pet the animals soft fur. "A nice home you have here", he told the Kneazle.

   "You have a hand for magical creatures, Charlie Weasley", Anastasia said, and as he looked up, he found her lips lifted to a small smile. "Ezra usually isn't that fond of intruders. Your intentions seem to be pure."

    "Having gained the trust of a Kneazle, your intentions can't be as bad as people want to believe itself", Charly dared to chuckle, before he straightened his back again.

   "Humans are scared of the unknown", she replied, and the smile dropped. "Stubborn, dimwit folks! They think they can control anything and anyone. I tried to show them different, but fear, Charlie Weasley, brings out the worst in people. It was fear that had the muggles trying to burn witches. It was fear that brought me here."

   "But what do you fear?"

   "It isn't what I fear, Charlie." A joyless chuckle escaped her throat. "It was fear that created me, fear that evolved me. I did never fear anything unless they told me to. Now it's me showing those fools what fear is made of." She walked over to the counter of a small kitchen, looking back at him. "Tea?", she asked, and Charlie blinked in surprise. "Or does what you want to talk about require something more intense." She took a bottle out of one of the cupboards. "Ah, just the right thing for a man like you. Dragon Barrel Brandy!" She smirked. "I can mix it with your tea. You Britains are obsessed with tea, aren't you?"

   "Thank you, but I prefer it pure", he replied, laughing.

   "The alcohol or the tea?"

   "Everything in life." He sat down on a wooden table, as she stretched out her hand, gesturing him to take a seat. Anastasia blinked, hand still wrapped around the bottle. "Let's have a glass of Brandy, we both will not like the reason why I am here."

   "You know how to make me keen on that conversation, do you?"

   "Miss Voinescu —"

   "Ana."

   "Excuse me?" Charlie blinked.

   She turned around once more, placing two glasses of Brandy on the table. "Ana. Call me Ana. I am not a lady, you don't need to be formal, my polite dragon tamer."

   "Ana", he echoed, smiling. For a second he actually had this small piece of hope that this young woman was nothing of the things, people told about her. That he wasn't dead yet was one of many indices that lead him to this suggestion. She sat down, lifting her glass like she was about to speak a toast, but then immediately poured the amber coloured liquid down her throat, and Charlie followed her lead. The burning in his mouth hasn't lightened yet, when he said, "Albus Dumbledore sent me."

   The words had left his mouth and he knew he was dead. Ana's face became a mask; a frightening mask, with her jaw clenched, and her eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes glimming red, a dark red, just like blood, and her nostrils widened.

   "Albus Dumbledore is dead", she growled. "And even if he wouldn't, you shouldn't have followed his instructions. You should know that Dumbledore's little tasks not rarely end in a bloody death, Charlie Weasley." She narrowed her still red glimming eyes. "So what does he want from me, the old twat?"

   "Well, he informed me about the dangers of this mission", Charlie replied after clearing his throat. For a second he wondered, why he was even telling her the truth; he should lie. The truth wouldn't get him out of this mess. If the truth would lead to anything, then to a much more painful end of his life. But he decided against it in an impulse. "Miss Voi— Ana." The red in her eyes flickered. "I won't lie to you. Dumbledore knew about the danger that I would have to face coming here. Yes, he warned me."

   "You know how to butter up a woman, huh?", Ana scoffed, her hands trembling.

   "I'm not here to flatter you, Ana", Charlie replied, reaching out for her trembling hands to take them in his own. Her eyes widened, as they touched, but she didn't pull away. "We need your help. The wizarding world needs your help. This war needs to end, and you could stop it, Ana! You have the power to —"

   Her hands wriggled out of his, her eyes again narrowed to small, red glimming slits. "I am no one's weapon, Charlie Weasley." Those hands Charlie had held just seconds ago, now were glowing in the same blood red that her eyes did, and he prepared for a fight that he couldn't but lose. "I am no one's soldier. How he could even dare! After all he'd done, after all he'd put me through! I am no longer his guinea pig!" She got up from her chair, the ground beneath her feet seemed to quake. "I would love to send you back to him and tell him all of this, Charlie Weasley, but unfortunately he by now is as rotten as his noble ideas of a better world."

   Charlie kept sitting in his chair, caramel brown eyes locking with blood red, and his wand was useless in the pocket of his robe, and his head empty, as he closed his eyes and nodded, waiting for the end, her face imprinted on his closed lids, so she'd be the last thing he would see.

   And he wasn't all too sad about it.

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