Episode 5: Confessions

Written and Directed by Humaira K and Gill P

Guest starring
Shiri Appleby as Anastasia Darcy
Alan Rickman as Severus Snape

Harry was being spied on.

He and Ron had allowed Hermione to drag them to the library to study the day after Syd’s fainting spell in Snape’s class. Harry and Ron had both agreed that they had time to kill before Quidditch practice.

Buffy had sent them an owl that morning saying that she would be training around Hogsmeade all morning, but would be back in time for lunch and to visit Syd in the hospital wing.

Silently Harry put down his quill. A girl about his age had appeared from around a bookshelf nearby before quickly darting back into the shadows.

“Harry, what’s – ” Hermione began, seeing Harry get up.

Harry shook his head ever so slightly, moving to the opposite side of the bookcase. The girl was peeking around again. Her face fell when she saw that Harry was no longer where she had last seen him. Thinking fast, Harry strode up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. The girl let out a tiny gasp of surprise. Harry grinned wryly.

“Can I help you?” he asked coolly.

The girl was spooked and tried to calm down. “Um, Harry, hi. I’m Anastasia Darcy. I’m in your year. Gryffindor.”

Harry squinted at the pretty girl from behind his glasses. He vaguely remembered Anastasia, quiet and always kept to herself but had a close circle of friends. He thought he saw her in the common room that morning.

“I’m sorry I was spying on you. It’s just that…” she paused and said the following sentence in a single breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend Valentine’s Day with me. I know it’s a Hogsmeade weekend and I’ll understand if you want to stay with Ron and Hermione, but…”

Harry smiled again. “I didn’t have any plans,” he replied easily, “so yeah, I’ll go with you.” Harry tried hard not to think about the year before, and what a disaster that Hogsmeade weekend was.

Anastasia smiled shyly. “Okay, thanks.” Three girls suddenly appeared from behind Anastasia and giggled when they saw that she was alone with Harry. She shot them a quieting look, and she turned back to Harry. “I better go.” The four girls took off quickly, holding a whispered conversation about what had just transpired.

Harry shook his head. ‘You don’t see boys doin’ that,’ he thought, making his way back to Hermione and Ron.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked.

“Anastasia Darcy asked me out,” he replied. “Next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Good for you Harry,” Hermione said smiling broadly, “Anastasia’s a great girl. We’ve been partnered up in Professor Flitwick’s class before.”

Ron looked thoughtful. “Next Hogsmeade weekend is Valentine’s Day, right?” He paused, a smile slowly spreading across his thin lips. “I wonder if Buffy or Sydney would go with me.”

Hermione clucked her tongue and buried her nose in a new book.

* * *

Buffy spun around pretending she was being attacked and kicked the air within the Shrieking Shack. After her initial meeting with Harry and having asked if she could, Buffy spent all her time training within the Shrieking Shack.

She had always thought that she would just forget about her seven-year slaying stint when she either died or someone else came along.

Unfortunately, that someone had been Faith and it looked like she could never escape her destiny. But, now she was one of many, and Faith had reached an understanding with Buffy.

Because they were not the same girls anymore. And now here she was, training to kill what she knew. Because at the end of the day, this was her life, she didn’t know anything else.

She didn’t have any college qualifications and one nearly charred High School certificate. Finishing up for the day, she did some stretches and exercises to cool down, night was falling soon and she hadn’t made good on her promise to go see Sydney and have lunch at Hogwarts.

Sighing, she picked up her things and noticed it was full dark. ‘Well, there goes dinner,’ she thought glumly as she made her way to the nearest cemetery, stake, sword and holy water in hand. ‘Maybe I can get something at The Three Broomsticks!’ she thought perking up. Rosmerta had been very kind in allowing her to stay on with Sydney, and asked where Sydney was when she didn’t show up yesterday. Buffy explained a condensed version to her, Rosmerta had given her a worried smile and then turned to tend to another customer.

“There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea./You became the light on the dark side of me./Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill.”

A movement caught her eye and jolted her out of her thoughts.

“But did you know/That when it snows/My eyes become large and/The light that you shine can be seen.”

Silently and quickly, she stalked her prey and when she came to hit it, her hand was stopped.

“Baby/I might compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave./Ooh/The more I get of you/Stranger it feels, yeah./And now that your rose is in bloom, A light hits the gloom on the grave.”

There is so much a man can tell you/So much he can say.”

“Angel?” she whispered.

* * *

“I’m so tired of being here/Suppressed by all of my childish fears/And if you have to leave/I wish that you would just leave/Because your presence still lingers here/And it won’t leave me alone.”

“No…”

Sydney mumbled in her sleep. “No…oh God!” Her eyes flew open and breathing hard, she tried to figure out where she was. Blinking against the soft candlelight in the room, she remembered.

Hermione.

Hogwarts.

Potions class.

Hospital.

“Miss Bristow?” the softly grating voice of Severus Snape entered her ears.

“These wounds won’t seem to heal/This pain is just too real/There’s just too much that time cannot erase.”

Sydney turned to where the voice originated. “Hello Professor Snape,” she said, touching her forehead as if she were physically trying to make sense of her nightmare. It was unsettling and the images in her mind were unsettling, to say the least.

“A nightmare?” he asked knowingly.

“Yes. It was very strange. I was in a hospital room – a Muggle one – and there were all these instruments around, but I couldn’t see what they were doing to me,” Sydney explained, rambling to a man she hardly knew. “I felt like I trusted these people who were operating on me, but I didn’t want to go through with it at all.”

Snape’s lips curled into a thin smile. “It wasn’t a by-product of the Short-Term Memory Draught, I can assure you. That particular potion does not dredge up long-term memories, which I think is what you experienced in your dreams.”

“When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears/When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears/And I’ve held your hand through all of these years/But you still have all of me.”

Sydney nodded.

“You’re probably right.” She looked around the empty wing, a very comfortable place indeed. “Did Buffy or any of others stop by to see me?”

“I spoke to Madam Pomfrey briefly and she did say you had some visitors earlier, but you were out for most of the day,” Snape offered.

She sent a shy smile at the Professor. He had the air of a man who didn’t concern himself with other people’s emotions, and yet, here he was, spending time with her, getting to know her. “I wish you didn’t have to see me like this. I feel so helpless.”

“You used to captivate me/By your resonating light/But now I’m bound by the life you left behind/Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams/Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me.”

Snape waved the comment from the air with his hand. “It was my fault. I should not have tested a potion on a Squib like yourself.”

“Squib?” Sydney blurted out, she didn’t know if she was being insulted or not. Not only did she have to mentally adjust to the nightmare, but to the fact that she was in a completely different world.

“A squib is a person who is born to magical parents but has no magic ability of their own,” Snape explained. “Your parents are magical, aren’t they? That would explain why you can see the wizarding world, but you have no powers yourself.”

“These wounds won’t seem to heal/This pain is just too real/There’s just too much that time cannot erase.”

Her eyebrows knitted in thought. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “Have you ever heard of Milo Rambaldi?”

Snape cocked his head. “Pope Alexander VI’s chief architect?”

“When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears/When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears/And I’ve held your hand through all of these years/But you still have all of me.”

“Yes! How do you know him?” Sydney asked, pleased that she didn’t have to explain who Rambaldi was.

“I was studying his esteemed life not too long ago. Why? Do you have some connection to him?”

“I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone/And though you’re still with me/I’ve been alone all along.”

Sydney paused. “More than you know.” She then launched into a long-winded speech about her Prophecy.

“When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears/When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears/And I’ve held your hand through all of these years/But you still have all of me.”

* * *

Harry was worried.

Buffy hadn’t come to Hogwarts all day and Sydney was still out for the whole day. He felt a hatred towards Snape flair up more then on most days.

The only thing sustaining his anger, pain and grieving about everything that was his life was the upcoming date with Anastasia.

“Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear/And I can’t help but ask myself how much/I’ll let the fear take the wheel and steer./It’s driven me before, and it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal./But lately I’m beginning to find that I/should be the one behind the wheel.”

Ever since she had asked him out he had been wondering what she saw in him. Maybe she was after his fame. Harry dismissed that idea quickly. Anastasia was a quiet and mousy girl, who was so quiet you’d never even notice she was there.

In truth he had never really noticed her. But now he sat there observing her. She had the most beautiful smile, dark brown hair and the biggest brown eyes that held an innocence that Harry longed for. She was wonderful and despite all his confusion over why she asked him or why she had stalked him he came to one conclusion.

“Whatever tomorrow brings/I’ll be there with open arms and open eyes, Yeah/Whatever tomorrow brings, I’ll be there..I’ll be there.”

She liked him.

But she didn’t know him.

Sighing, Harry decided to give up on his homework for the night. He would keep thinking of Anastasia. Checking the clock, he noticed it was only 8.

He had 2 more hours till curfew. Deciding a walk might be in order, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to Hogsmeade to clear his thoughts.

“So, if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive/Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?”

Nodding, the both of them turned back to their homework, as Harry strode out of the common room after getting his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map.

“Would you choose water over wine….hold the wheel and drive?”

* * *

“So you’re the woman in the prophecy?” said Snape not believing who was sitting in front of him. This was her?! He felt an awe towards her as well as a fear. He knew the prophecy well.

“Why did you come to see me?” asked Sydney after several seconds of silence. She had told him about the Rambaldi prophecy, about her missing two years and anything that could be connected to the dreams.

Snape didn’t say anything for several seconds.

“I know you’re a double agent,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

He flinched as if he had been hit but kept his features impassive.

“Why do you think that?” he said softly, a danger creeping into his voice.

Sydney stared at him for a while wondering what he’d do to her with that wand that he was fingering gently, but then she started laughing hysterically. Almost barking with bitter laughter.

Snape looked even more put out and looked like he was going to use the wand.

“I’m sorry, but having been one myself for 2 years, I know. I can tell you’ve been doing this longer. I used to hate going in to see Sloane, the man who murdered my fiancé,’ she said, lost in her thoughts and memories.

‘Adia I do believe I failed you/Adia I know I let you down/Don’t you know I tried so hard/To love you in my way/It’s easy let it go…’

Slowly Snape left the wand on his thigh and sat back to listen to her.

‘I used to dream of wringing his bony neck.’ she seemed to relish the thought of the act as she closed her eyes. ‘But, ultimately I couldn’t. Now, he’s working for the World Health Organization, apparently ‘good’ and provides intelligence,’ said Sydney with such distaste that Snape actually found himself liking the woman.

‘So, how do I know? You carry yourself with a grace. You know which body signals to send out and how to conceal your emotions and true panic. I’ve been a spy so long, I wasn’t too sure. But, I’m not often wrong.’ she said turning to him, ‘Will you tell me someday?’ she asked.

‘Tell you what?’ he asked warily.

‘Adia I’m empty since you left me/Trying to find a way to carry on/I search myself and everyone/To see where we went wrong.’

‘Why you became one. I bet you wish that you had the power to wring the neck of your boss, to feel strength seep out of him little by little until he’s left his earthly body and you can be at peace,’ she said softly.

Snape closed his eyes and allowed a genuine smile to filter to his face as he let the image of wringing Voldemort’s neck sink into his brain. He sighed with contentment at the thought.

”Cause there’s no one left to finger/There’s no one here to blame/There’s no one left to talk to, honey/And there ain’t no one to buy our innocence/’Cause we are born we all falter/Does it matter?’

‘I came to see if you were all right,’ said Snape after a few moments,

‘I can’t explain it, but I felt bad at having you take the potion. You surprised me.’

* * *

‘Angel?’ she said softly, the surprise quickly fading from her face. Without a second thought, she embraced him like a friend, even though she wanted him as much more than that. He accepted the hug and clutched her extra tightly.

‘Nice to see you too. So… Hogsmeade,’ he said looking around, as if plucking from the air a random comment to jog the conversation.

‘Hogsmeade,’ Buffy said agreeably. ‘What are you doing here?’

Angel looked around, the dark quickly seeping into the sleepy town.

‘Is there someplace we can talk?’

Buffy eyed the look of fear on Angel’s tough but gentle face. Angel kept up the tough exterior every chance he got, but she genuinely saw something in his eyes. It scared her. ‘The Shrieking Shack,’ she replied immediately.

Angel followed her wordlessly. The leaves from the trees above crunched loudly under their feet. Prying open the usually closed door, Buffy led the way into the darkened room. Then she lit the stub of a candle, sat down on the battered furniture and waited for Angel to start talking.

‘I don’t know how to tell you this. I came all the way here from L.A. to explain,’ Angel began, refusing a seat. He began pacing the floor. ‘The closing of the Hellmouth in Sunnydale caused another prophecy to show up. An ancient prophecy that involves the Slayer, meaning you. There are other people involved, but I don’t know their identities, so I came here to brainstorm with you.’

‘Angel, a prophecy? Come on,’ Buffy said, shrugging it off immediately. ‘You know I’m not the only Slayer in the world now. How can you be sure it’s me that they’re talking about in this prophecy?’

‘Because the prophecy called for the Slayer in power at the beginning of this millennium. That was you, Buffy. Even though there are other Slayers, you were in the first one in this millennium. It was very clearly worded.’ Angel paused. ‘I came here because I need your help.’

Harry drifted aimlessly towards Hogsmeade.

A chilling breeze caused him to wrap his cloak tighter around him. He had been looking forward to Buffy showing up that day, as her appearance anywhere in Hogwarts was a welcome distraction.

Harry figured she got caught up training and didn’t know the time.

She had mentioned something about the Shrieking Shack and he noticed that his feet were leading them there. The back door they used was opened a crack, he noticed. Voices were wafting through the crack, one was Buffy, he surmised, the other was unfamiliar.

They seemed to be talking, no arguing, no raised voices, no sounds of a struggle. Even so, Harry took out his wand from his back pocket and shoved the mangled door aside. ‘Buffy?’ he called. There was a soft light coming from behind a corner. ‘Buffy?’ he called again. ‘It’s me, Harry.’

He walked around the corner, his wand held tightly in front of him, and took in the surprising scene before him. A man was in the room was Buffy, a man he didn’t recognize.

Buffy stood between them and the introductions began.

* * *

‘I know you think that I shouldn’t still love you/Or tell you that./But if I didn’t say it, well I’d still have felt it/where’s the sense in that?’

Back at Hogwarts Anastasia was having a fitful dream involving red eyes, a black haired woman and someone falling. She woke up shuddering, the rest of her dorm mates still asleep. This was getting too much, every bloody night ever since Harry had said Yes to her.

Where the hell had she gotten the confidence to ask him out anyway? Anastasia was usually very shy; it was a wonder she had been sorted into Gryffindor at all.

‘Well I will go down with this ship/And I won’t put my hands up and surrender/There will be no white flag above my door/I’m in love and always will be.’

The Sorting Hat had told her, that when the time was right, she couldn’t be a Hufflepuff; she’d prove herself to be a Gryffindor. So far all that had happened was Anastasia was becoming more and more withdrawn.

‘I know I left too much mess and/Destruction to come back again/And I caused nothing but trouble/I understand uf you can’t talk to me again/And if you live by the rules of ‘it’s over’/then I’m sure that that makes sense.’

Glancing around once again, she went back to bed trying to gain some sleep in what was left of the night, praying for no more nightmares.

‘Well I will go down with this ship/And I won’t put my hands up and surrender/There will be no white flag above my door/I’m in love and always will be.’

Fade out

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