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THE FOLLOWING. august 23, 1996.
THE SECOND LAZARUS CAUGHT SIGHT OF ANASTASIA, HE QUICKENED HIS STEPS TO CATCH UP AND LET OUT A HUFF OF ANNOYANCE WHEN SHE FAILED TO STOP. When he reached her, he grabbed her elbow and jerked her backwards and only then she finally turn to face him.
Her face was stoic, her eyes unreadable as he looked down at her and for a moment, Lazarus couldn't help but wince at the way she looked at him. He had always felt an inclination to stand by her side and she had never failed to make that the most challenging thing he had ever done.
"If you have something to say then say it, Laz. If not, I'm running late to tryouts and Urquhart is going to have my head on the end of his broom if I take any longer," Anastasia hissed before she pulled from his grasp and continued to walk towards the pitch.
Lazarus found himself stumbling after her, his words jumbled in his brain in a way that made it hard for him to speak. He could tell that she was not particularly happy with him and she had only ever felt that way three times since the day he had met her.
The first had been when he had let her awful cat stray out of the common room their first year. The moment she found out that Salazar was missing, she had chased the boy around the dormitories with threats of maiming the boy leaving her lips. Threats that he had no doubt would have become promises had the cat not pranced back into the room only minutes later.
The second had been when he had accidentally broke her arm during a duel practice. Of course, it hadn't been his intention but the disarming spell had cascaded off of his own opponent's spell and sent her flying across the room. He had almost thrown up when she stood, her arm bent at an unnatural angle, but he had sat by her the entire night as Madam Pomfry mended the bone.
And the last had been only days after Cedric Diggory's death. He had gotten into an argument with Draco over the way she had become so cold, almost robotic in her actions as she struggled to deal with her broken heart. He had said thrown many horrid words out about the deceased boy, unaware that she had been listening from Draco's bed with tear stained cheeks.
She hadn't talked to him for nearly two months after that.
But the way she was acting as he trailed behind her was much more alarming than anything before. She didn't yell at him, didn't hold her wand in his direction to threaten him to leave her alone. She simply acted as if there was nothing wrong and that was the scariest thing that Anastasia Romanov was capable of.
"I didn't mean to hit you with that spell—"
Anastasia was facing him in an instant, her eyes narrowed in disgust as she looked at him. "You actually think that is why I am angry with you, Lazarus? You nearly killed Draco. Do you not understand that? You nearly betrayed the Dark Lord by killing one of his own," her words grew quiet at the end of her statement but he heard them with crystal clear clarity.
