Chapter Text
Elloid "Loid" Forger (codename: Twilight, not that many knew) was the new Arithmancy Professor at Hogwarts and a former Slytherin who worked as a double-spy for the Light and he was currently very bored. As he sat at the head table with his wife (another very recent development), he watched the yearly Sorting with slight interest and even though he knew he should pay attention, his mind wandered. But he had a mission to fulfill, Operation Strix. He needed to integrate into Hogwarts and from there get to know and, hopefully, sway the children of the recently formed Death Eaters away from the dark.
Of course, as a professor, he'd have an easy enough time getting in contact with the children but as his handler Silverwood pointed out, being a role model would be helpful but it wouldn't be enough against the peer pressure. And so, to create a positive peer pressure, you needed kids. It wasn't to his liking, really, the idea of having a kid nor of involving one into this mess. He'd never wanted to have a kid, especially not with another war brewing. But she was right and he knew it. To his surprise, shortly after this discussion he'd accidentally stumbled upon an orphaned muggleborn girl in Muggle London as he was running some errands (read buying Muggle coffee) that was seemingly abandoned at an orphanage for being "odd."
"Are you lost? Where are your parents?" Loid had asked, wondering if he should bend down to the girl's short stature.
The little girl stared intensely into his eyes as best she could from the distance, almost as if she was contemplating if he was trustworthy or not. He didn't blame her for being weary of a stranger. Finally, she answered.
"I was on a field trip with the orphanage but some of the other kids were being mean and I wished to ran away and now I'm here."
"Where was your field trip?"
"Buckingham Palace," the little girl answered, slowly getting less apprehensive.
Loid froze. That was on the other side of town and the girl didn't look exhausted or even disheveled like someone after an intensive run. Her wording had been odd too. Could it be that this was the cause of accidental magic? It would also explain the pink hair. Well, be it as it may, he felt obliged to get the girl back to her caregivers.
On the way there, the little girl slowly became more open, stating her name was Anya and telling him all about her life in the different orphanages and foster homes she'd lived in. It was clear that Anya was not wanted by her parents, caretakers, or peers for her "oddity" and something about that pink-haired, pig-tailed girl that was so small for her age (he still thought it odd that someone so tiny was now 11 but she had gotten her Hogwarts letter so she must be. It was probably poor nutrition that had made her so short. He did get WISE to buy him the highest quality ingredients so he could brew her the best nutrition potions just in case. It was for the sake of the mission, after all. How could she help him if she was sick and malnourished?) pulled at his forgotten heartstrings and reminded him of the loss he once lived.
So he'd adopted her and with the help of WISE and of the Order members at the Ministry, they'd created a new alibi and with the help of some magic and a blood adoption he became her biological father. They even created a fake pureblood French mother that died shortly after Anya's birth. But even then, he knew that getting to the Slytherin purebloods would require more. He was only a halfblood (although a very talented one as few wizarding folk could claim to be a metamorphmagus like him and an extremely good Occlumens, not that many knew this about him) which was a well known fact. And Anya was almost a pureblood now, thanks to their lie but it still wouldn't be enough to gain their trust. So it was suggested he get a pureblood wife.
Which circled back to his new wife. She was a surprise but a good one, really. They'd gotten lucky with Yor, a sweet Hufflepuff pureblood who'd apparently gone to Hogwarts a few years below him and was the last in the Briar line other than her brother. He recalled her brother a bit, of course. The boy was considerably younger but prone to getting in trouble with that superiority complex of his and as a Prefect, he'd often been forced to step in and help him but he honestly did not recall much about his wife back then, so he counted himself as very lucky. (They weren't as lucky as he thought. Anya meddled to contrive it, not that he yet realized.)
And now, here they were at the Head Table, watching the Sorting. Even in his boredom, his sharp spy mind took in every person-of-interest's sorting. Rebecca "Becky" Blackbell, from the well-renowned pureblood family, was sorted into Ravenclaw. A typical sorting for pureblood elitists that didn't favor Slytherin traits. Damian Desmond, the main target, was sorted into Slytherin just as everyone expected. After all, if the Blackbells were elitists, the Desmonds were supremacists. The boy's sidekicks, Elman and Egeburg if he recalled correctly, were also sorted into Slytherin. And now, it was Anya's turn. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he was a bit worried about her. After all, if she got sorted in a different house, especially if it was Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, their chances of getting close to the Desmond boys, particularly the younger one, would be greatly reduced. And the fact that her sorting seemed to take an eternity was making his dread grow.
"You don't think she'll be a Hat stall, right?" He heard Yor whisper worriedly beside him.
Loid turned to her, a soft, charming smile on his face as he raised his Occlumency shields up to maintain his calm façade.
"I'm sure everything will be fine. She probably would just fit in a few Houses and the Hat is taking careful consideration."
Just as he said this, the Hat opened its mouth and both of their breaths hitched.
Yordanna "Yor" Forger née Briar couldn't contain her excitement as the Sorting Ceremony progressed. Although she'd been to many of them, both as a student and as a professor, she could only remember feeling this sort of excitement twice before. Once when she was sorted and then again when her baby brother, Yuri, was. And although her sorting had been a disappointment to her parents because in their eyes Hufflepuff was unfit for any pureblood of their pedigree, her brother's sorting into Slytherin made up for it. After all, that meant the Briar House heir was of the "right sort" in all ways. She knew, however, that there was neither a right nor wrong sort and that her brother didn't believe in that either. (He did but he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his beloved sister. So although he secretly supported and helped the purebloods he never became a Death Eater and had no plans to.)
And now it was her daughter that was getting sorted. Now, that whole matter was a new development. Because of the brewing war, many had pointed out that a pureblooded woman that remained unmarried better take care, as many were being attacked or forcibly married to pureblooded men. And although she was a Defense Mistress and was certain that her brother, now the head of the House of Briar would never force her to marry (she was right, Yuri wouldn't), she was still apprehensive. And it was by miracle or maybe destiny that she stumbled into Madame Malkin's just as Anya and Loid Forger were there getting Anya's Hogwarts uniforms.
She'd accidentally bumped into Loid and as she apologized, she realized who he was. Loid Forger had been a 3rd year Slytherin when she started at Hogwarts and was honestly a surprisingly thoughtful and kind student that had helped Yuri a lot when he started Hogwarts (much to his shame, needing the help of a halfblood). She also knew he would be the new Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts and decided to politely say hello.
"Hello, I'm the DADA professor. It's nice to see you here, Professor Forger."
He bowed respectfully, "Pleasure to meet you Lady Briar and I do apologize for bumping into you."
Yor was a bit astounded at his formality and a bit saddened that he didn't remember her from their years as Hogwarts students but accepted the formality of his manners and gave a polite yet small bow. It was mostly an inclination of her head, really, as would be dictated by her position in Wizarding society relative to his.
A little pink-haired girl pulled at his pant leg. Loid looked at her with bemusement but kept his charming demeanor as he introduced them.
"Lady Briar, my daughter, Miss Anastasia Forger, better known as Anya. Anya, Lady Briar will be your DADA professor at Hogwarts."
The little girl smiled politely but tensely as she gave a short but awkward curtsy. She was clearly also trained in the most formal modes of greeting and Yor responded with another polite inclination, a bit unsure of the girl's position in wizarding society as she didn't know the mother. After the formalities were done, Yor's eyes met Anya's and for a moment the girl's eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. After a moment, Yor spoke up to interrupt the awkward stare.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Forger, is your mother with you too? I'd love to meet Mrs. Forger," She said the last part while glancing at Loid. She had always thought him charming and any woman would be lucky to be his wife.
He cleared his throat, wishing to clear up the "misunderstanding" but Anya beat him to it.
"I don't have a maman, she died," Anya said, before adding as she looked at the lady before her, because not only was she pretty but Anya now knew she could be terrifying in the best of ways, "I wish I had a maman, though. Especially one as nice and pretty as you."
The flushed faces of Yor and Loid after her comment were all too natural.
It really had happened a bit suddenly, but nobody else really knew the speediness of their marriage. In fact, everyone else thought they'd been dating for a couple years and had married a little before the end of the last school year, when they found out that Loid would be working at Hogwarts. It was a necessary lie to avoid suspicion and although their marriage was more for convenience than anything, to protect herself and so Anya could have a maternal figure, she happily sat beside her new husband awaiting her new daughter's sorting. (She'd adopted Anya once she married Loid and was considering a blood adoption in the future, if both of them would still have her.) She finally saw Anya step up to the stool and put on the Hat, making Yor sit on the edge of her seat in her excitement. Although she hadn't known her new family for long, she had admittedly fallen for that little girl and already loved her as her own daughter, quirks and all. And Loid was a remarkably good dad and she may just have started to fall in… No, she couldn't think like that, plus she had Anya's sorting to watch. Actually, it was taking remarkably long. She pointed out her worries to her husband.
"I'm sure everything will be fine. She probably would just fit in a few Houses and the Hat is taking careful consideration," he answered, with that sweet, reassuring smile of his that always made her blush but for once, her worries and nerves were greater.
"I really hope so," she said under her breath and just then, the Hat began to speak.
Rebecca "Becky" Blackbell sat primly on her spot at the dining table. Like many members of the House of Blackbell and House of Desmond before her, she'd been sorted into Ravenclaw. An entirely honorable House and thankfully not the shame and disgrace of Hufflepuff or worse off, Gryffindor.
She sat perfectly still and perfectly straight as she watched the rest of the sorting. Damian, her rather annoying cousin, was sorted into Slytherin. Yet another Desmond into that House. Her mother and uncle would be very pleased about this. Her mother would also be pleased with Becky's sorting, of course, but her father would be happier and would call her a chip off the old Blackbell block. The Blackbell line tended towards Ravenclaw a bit more, whereas the Desmonds were almost purely Slytherins. Nonetheless, both sortings were good.
The Sorting continued and she noted that her cousin's minions were sorted into Slytherin too. No surprise there, really. No, what she was looking forward to now was her new friend's, Anya, sorting. She had met the shorter, pink-haired girl on the train ride here. It appeared her father was a Slytherin half-blood (unfortunate, really) but at least he was an avid pureblood supporter and had accordingly married only pureblood witches. The first, a French woman of surname Rosier that was, if the rumours were correct, apparently a relation of the Black sisters, a cousin to their mother. There was at least one Black sister still attending Hogwarts so they'd know for sure soon enough if the rumors were indeed true. Unfortunately, the mother had died when she was an infant. Any pureblood loss was grave indeed but her father had accordingly remarried another pureblood, this one of the Briar line. She had yet to see who Anya's parents were, even if they were staff members. However, it was hard to pick them out of the crowded Head Table as there were a surprising amount of young professors this year. Be it as it may, even if Anya's father was not as pure as her parents would like, the connection to the last of the Briar House should satisfy them. And if the rumors were correct, Anya would also provide a connection to the Black and Rosier families through her birth mother and the Prince family through her father. Plus, she particularly liked the fact that Anya had defended her against her cousin's endless teasing, going so far as to punch him when he'd stepped on her, although she was sure that had been accidental on his part. Still, a faithful friend of such good lineage (and well, her first friend really) ought to satisfy her parents. She really just hoped that Anya would be sorted into Ravenclaw like her. Now she just needed to hear what the Hat was about to say.
Anastasia "Anya" Forger squirmed on the stool as she tried to get comfortable and calm down but the situation was all too nerve-wracking. She had managed to get this far (through many lies, many of her own, many by her papa and some by her mama) and she couldn't fail now. No, now she needed to not only get sorted by this Hat but get sorted into Slytherin like Damian Desmond and somehow get back in his good graces after her terrible screw-up. Otherwise, all of WISE's (a Light organization that often assisted Dumbledore's of the Phoenix but had higher, more honorable aims than the old coot's) plans would be for naught and she'd be given up to some orphanage again. She already made her first friend on the train ride here and she really didn't want to lose her or her parents… No, she couldn't think like that, she just needed to get sorted and become friendly with the Death Eaters' children so that her papa and the rest of the WISE could defeat Voldemort.
Hmm, quite a busy and worried mind for someone so young, the Hat hummed softly in her head startling Anya. She was used to easily reading others' mind, at least their surface thoughts as a natural Legilimens but she wasn't used to someone doing it back. The Hat simply continued with his train of thought.
Yes, you are very young. In fact, aren't you too young to be here? Only 9...
I'm almost 10, she interrupted urgently, almost begging.
The Hat chuckled but continued, Still too young yet somehow you managed to trick everyone, even the registry, that you were of age... How very clever, you could do well in Ravenclaw. In fact, I almost sorted your new papa there…
For a moment Anya considered it, if only to be with Becky, but then she remembered her mission.
No, no, no, Anya mentally shook her head, scared that the Hat would either out her as too young or sort her in the wrong House or even that Becky would stop being her friend if she was sorted in Slytherin.
No? Well I suppose you could go to Hufflepuff. You are fiercely loyal and that is your new mama's House…
She mentally shook her head no again, trying her best to keep the panic under control.
Well, I guess Gryffindor would also be a good fit. After all, you've been incredibly brave, the Hat almost chuckled again, amused by the endearing child. She clearly could fit into any House but she was young and taking on a task she was not prepared for. But the fact that she'd manage to fool everyone thus far was a testament to her abilities, even if they clearly still needed some work. He was certain she'd turn into one of the most powerful witches in Hogwarts history given time.
No, please, I have to be in Slytherin, please. For the mission, for papa, even for mama… Anya begged. She had to help her papa complete his mission for world peace. They needed to infiltrate the DE and the best way for Anya to do that was to become friends with Damian, a boy whose father, Donovan Desmond, was Voldemort's right hand man. So just like her papa pretended to be a pureblood-loving Slytherin, she needed to do the same. These kids couldn't know her secrets. Not that she was a Muggleborn and adopted (after being abandoned by her parents for her "freakishness"), nor her real age, nor her natural mind reading abilities. No, she had to keep all of her secrets and help papa achieve his goals.
Hmm, well you do fit the traits. You are certainly ambitious, world peace is no small task. And you are certainly cunning enough when you need to… but is that really what you want? You are a muggleborn, dear child, and even if you and your papa like to pretend otherwise, it's something that can easily come to light and you'll quickly be in danger, the Hat muttered.
Please, please, Anya begged as sweat formed on her forehead. She grabbed tightly onto the stool and tensed her shoulders.
Very well then, I suppose you better be "SLYTHERIN!"
Damian Desmond sat comfortably in the Slytherin table surrounded by Emile and Ewen. Just as he expected, he'd been sorted into Slytherin the moment the brim of the Hat touched his head, much like it had done for his brother, Demetrius, and his father, Donavan, before him. And now, he sat on his righteous place and watched the rest of the sorting. At the moment, the odd pink-haired girl (she was probably a metamorphmagus if her odd hair color was anything to go by) that had punched him in defense of his cousin was being sorted. Other than her odd hair, and her surprisingly fast-formed friendship with Becky (if their whispered conversations on the walk to the Great Hall and that odious punch were any indication) she was no one of interest. From what he'd heard from his cousin (Becky had reluctantly informed him knowing otherwise his dad, the head of the Desmond House, would be displeased), her parents were both professors here at Hogwarts. Her father was a lowly half-blood with a Muggle surname. Although his mother had been a pureblood ("From the Prince family," it was rumored) she'd disgraced herself by marrying so lowly and apparently her niece had followed in her footsteps. Really, not even his pureblood sympathies could save him from that. As for Anya's real mother, apparently she had been a pureblooded witch from France ("A Rosier," whispers throughout the train hallways had said, "apparently her mother was the cousin of the Black sisters' mother, Lady Druella Black… Her maiden name was Rosier, you know?") and her step-mother was of the Briar family. Her mother was clearly much too French and too far-off of a relation to the Blacks to be of value. As for the stepmother, although the Briar family was a good pureblooded family, she wasn't the girl's real mother and everyone knew Hufflepuff Yordanna Briar was a disappointment. (Well, she was Yordanna Forger now. Another disappointment.) So Anya Forger was of little to no importance and hopefully she'd get sorted into Ravenclaw with Becky and then he wouldn't have to deal with either (2 birds, 1 stone). Plus, he had his boys with him and definitely did not want to deal with either girl, especially when one was so lowly and unworthy and the other his annoying cousin.
"SLYTHERIN!"
The words rang out and startled Damian. Really?! That halfblood? Ugh, he just couldn't catch a break. This was supposed to be his year but his brother had just been made a Prefect and of course, Damian merely going to Hogwarts was not something worth noting in comparison, and now this. Just as his contemplation began to take a far more bitter note, Anya Forger suddenly appeared before him.
Anya stared at the boy she needed to befriend for the sake of both Muggle and Wizard kind and decided to try and mend a broken bridge before her papa could find out and realize that she'd ruined everything and be disappointed in her and send her back to the orphanage.
Just as she was about to speak, Emile and Ewen interrupted, drawing attention to the Slytherin table with their outrage.
"Hey you, starting something again?!" Ewen called out.
"Last time you just got lucky with a sucker punch! Lord Damian would never lose in a real fight," Emile added.
"Shut up, you two," Damian began, annoyed at all three of them now. Before he could say anything else, his brother interrupted.
"Damian, control your minions. They are drawing a crowd and you know the Slytherin motto: a House divided against itself cannot stand. Privately we may fight but we have to display none of that to the lesser Houses," Demetrius hissed, a harsh glare given to all three boys.
Damian flushed in embarrassment at the admonishment but before he could defend himself, Anya managed to interrupt.
"About earlier in the train, I," Anya began, her voice thick with tears before she started outright crying, "I'm sorry I hit you, I wanna be friends."
Damian stared at Anya, her face now covered in tears, and the flush in his face increased. Not from embarrassment, no it was something else. And as he looked at Anya their eyes connected and the thoughts flowed freely between them, not that he knew.
No, no, his heart wasn't pounding. Not with a commoner, halfblood like her. That would be so embarrassing. Dammit, he'd rather die than accept it.
Somehow, he noticed through his inner monologue that Anya cast her eyes down, tears now streaming down her face like a waterfall. The guilt that had ludged itself on his throat attempted to choke him but he tried to regain his composure before he humiliated himself and ran away in front of his older brother. Thinking of said brother he glanced at him and seeing Demetrius' clear annoyance and pointed glare, he swallowed hard. A House divided falls, he had no choice.
"Very well, for the sake of our House, and my cousin too, I suppose, I will accept your apology. But do not think for a moment that this makes us friends. At best, it makes us civil acquaintances," he responded, the haughtiness dripping off of every word.
Anya looked up, hope shining in her eyes, "Thank you, Sy-on."
"Don't call me that," Damian muttered before he returned to his seat to look away from her. His face was even more flushed than before. Just as he sat, Anya managed to take one of the seats his friends had vacated. He couldn't help but glance at her and Anya beamed in response, traces of tears still on her face but clearly happier now. If he'd been flushed before, then he was all red now.
Dammit, why did his heart decide to like the plebian, nobody of a girl so much. His father would never approve of such meek connections.
Anya had turned to watch the rest of the Sorting and glanced at her parents on the Head Table. Damian follwed her gaze and noted the frown in what he presumed were her parents' faces. However, they both seemed to beam when their eyes connected with Anya as if trying to send her positive and encouraging words through their smiles alone. Then, her father glanced over her tiny form and met his eyes. Although his face appeared serene, there was something in his eyes, almost like anger and disappointment that was being masked, maybe even Occluded. Damian figured he wasn't pleased with the boy that had seemingly made his daughter cry out of nowhere and he felt himself squirm as he hadn't since he was a much younger child. For some reason, he felt awfully guilty. He turned away from the blond man's heavy gaze and accidentally glanced back at Anya who was looking at him. That beaming smile of hers was now bigger after her little moment with her parents.
Oh, he was so screwed.