Before the mechanical hum of the rescue car reached the driveway, the room grew cold. A small creature with bat-like ears and bulging eyes materialized on the edge of Ana's bed, his hands trembling as he looked at her.
"Dobby has felt the pulse across the ley lines!" the house-elf squeaked, bowing so low his nose touched the mattress. "The Sovereign... the little Mistress... you must not go back to Hogwarts! Danger is coming! The Chamber is waiting!"
Ana leaned forward, her silver eyes catching the moonlight. She looked impossibly delicate in her thin white nightgown, her skinny frame nearly translucent.
"Tell me, Dobby," she whispered, her voice a melodic, irresistible lure. "Who is coming for my throne?"
Dobby began to shake violently. He reached for a heavy glass paperweight on the desk, looking ready to crack it over his own head. "Dobby cannot say! The name is bound! Dobby would have to shut his ears in the oven door! He cannot... he cannot!"
Ana watched his struggle for a moment, her expression unreadable. She didn't need the frantic stammering of a terrified elf to know that the shadows of the castle were shifting.
"Then you are of no use to me tonight," Ana said softly. The "Influence" rippled through the air, cold and absolute. "Go, Dobby. Do not come back until you have a name."
The elf let out a sob of pure, ecstatic grief and vanished with a sharp crack just as a low, mechanical hum vibrated through the glass.
The Rescue in the Blue FordHarry scrambled to the window, his glasses lopsided. A turquoise Ford Anglia was hovering in the air. Ron Weasley was hanging out of the driver's side window, while the twins, Fred and George, grinned from the back.
"Hurry up!" Ron hissed. "Where's Ana?"
They didn't just pull the bars off the window; they treated the entire operation like they were extracting a rare diamond from a vault.
"Careful, careful!" Ron fretted as Fred climbed through the shattered frame. "Don't let the glass touch her! Ana, stay back!"
Fred ignored his brother and stepped into the room. He looked at Ana, who stood by the bed, her silver hair-ribbon glowing like a phantom thread. Without a word, he scooped her up. He didn't wait for her to walk; he tucked her against his chest as if she weighed no more than a bundle of silk.
"Got the Queen," Fred signaled, his usual mischievous tone replaced by a strange, quiet reverence.
The Flight to The BurrowAs the car soared over the sleeping suburbs, Harry sat in the front seat, finally breathing. But in the back, the twins were entirely occupied.
"Eat this, Ana," George said, holding out a piece of fudge. "You're far too thin. If you get any skinnier, you'll slip through the floorboards at the Burrow."
"I'm fine, George," Ana murmured, her silver eyes watching the clouds.
"You're not fine until we get some of Mum's porridge into you," Fred countered, sitting on her other side so she was completely sandwiched between them. He reached out and adjusted the silver moonstone at her throat, his fingers lingering on the cold metal.
When the sun began to peek over the horizon, the crooked silhouette of The Burrow appeared. The car touched down in the yard, and the kitchen door flew open. Mrs. Weasley stood there, her eyes locking onto Ana instantly.
"Oh, look at you! You're a shadow! You're nothing but skin and bone!"
She didn't let Ana walk into the house. She pushed Fred aside and gathered the girl into her own stout arms, carrying her straight into the warm, cluttered kitchen.
Within minutes, Ana was seated in the most comfortable armchair, buried under a mountain of wool. Ginny, who had been shyly watching from the stairs, crept down and sat on the rug at Ana's feet, looking up with a wide-eyed, silent adoration.
"It's very loud here, Mrs. Weasley," Ana said softly, a small, knowing smile touching her lips.
"It's a home, darling," Mrs. Weasley whispered, pressing a warm hand to Ana's skinny cheek. "And as long as you're here, no one is going to let anything hurt you."