Rating:
PG-13
House:
Astronomy Tower
Genres:
Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone
Stats:
Published: 06/27/2002
Updated: 10/02/2002
Words: 8,964
Chapters: 5
Hits: 2,314

Never A Tale Of More Woe

Liss Havilland

Story Summary:
The story of the Grey Lady. Ravenclaw student Miss Anna Chartwell falls in love with a Slytherin, but, as they say, "the path of true love ne'er did run smooth", and tragedy awaits the young couple.

Chapter 03

Chapter Summary:
The story of the Grey Lady. A romance doomed.
Posted:
07/04/2002
Hits:
415
Author's Note:
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far: makes me write all the faster! This is set somewhere around the 1870s/1880s. I hadn't noticed the Anne/Gil similarity, though there is actually a scene in this chapter that seems eerily familiar from that point of view (but it might just be me projecting).

Act Three: In Which Our Heroine Dances The Waltz

If there was one thing that Anna Chartwell disliked, it was balls. She had grown up in Harrogate, a large Muggle town in the North Riding of Yorkshire, which was famous for its restorative waters, and which attracted a large number of genteel ladies and their accompanying granddaughters. There were always a large number of dances arranged, though most of the attendees were not in a position to do anything but sit in spindly chairs and gossip, while exchanging details of their respective illnesses. Anna had, in the holidays of the last two years at school, been escorted to such dances by Mrs March, the local vicar's wife, and had had a thoroughly unpleasant time. This ball, though it would undoubtedly be a step up from Harrogate, would probably be similarly horrible.

She stood in front of her mirror, and viewed herself critically. Her hair was piled on top of her head and kept there with a strong fixing charm, and ringlets came down to brush her shoulders. The hair part was all right, Anna decided. Usually a medium brown, the summer sun had brought forth chestnut highlights, and the whole effect was perfectly acceptable. The dress, on the other hand, was a nightmare. She had only one that was suitable for the evening's event, and it was over a year old, sadly out of fashion, and moreover a pale blue that didn't really suit her. She sighed.

"Well, it will simply have to do," she announced to Nicodemus, who was washing himself and showing a supreme indifference to her plight.

"What will have to - Anna!" Needless to say, it was Amelia who stood in the doorway, her dark brown hair shining glossily, her amber-coloured dress the perfect foil for her complexion.

"What? You look very charming, by the way."

"You don't." This answer, though admirable in its honesty, nevertheless caused Anna's spirits to sink further.

"I know," she said unhappily. "It's the dress, isn't it? But I don't have anything better." Amelia stared at her in amazement.

"You're a witch, aren't you? So be-witch it!" Anna looked at her blankly, and Amelia sighed. Her friend was a very good witch, but sometimes her Muggle upbringing was lamentably obvious. She tilted her head and gazed at the offending dress assessingly, then set to work. Ten minutes later the dress had changed to a dusky blue that complemented Anna's fair colouring and faint dusting of freckles, tightened the waist, got rid of the abundant lace at the decolletage, and narrowed the skirts. The final touch she left for last, pointing her wand at the hem of the dress: "Aparecium Cirrius Mobiliandus!" Anna looked down in curiosity, then gasped. Around the bottom of her skirts, fluffy white clouds went scudding along. She raised her head and smiled widely at Amelia, who was looking smug.

"Good, isn't it? It's the same spell they use for children's nurseries, that sort of thing."

"It's wonderful. Thank you."

The two girls linked arms and sailed into the common room, where Theo was loitering, discussing Quidditch with Randolph. Not that Theo had any great interest in Quidditch, but he had been brought up to be polite. Turning, his eyes widened as he saw his two friends, both girls in a state of simmering excitement, from the looks of them.

"You both look lovely." He smiled at them with appreciation, offering both arms.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," replied Amelia with a twinkle in her eye, going to his left.

"You look very nice yourself," said Anna, courteously returning the compliment.

"We will be the belles of the ball," opined Amelia, dancing a little jig, before recalling herself to her surroundings. "Well, we'll be the belles; you can be the beau, Theo." He bowed solemnly and correctly.

"I will endeavour to do my best," he intoned soberly. "Shall we?"

The Hogwarts' staff had certainly made a great effort, and the Great Hall had been transformed into a ballroom that any society hostess would have killed for. At the head of the room, where the teachers' table was usually positioned, there was a dais, where the world-renowned Halliday Quartet was tuning up. Scented roses climbed up the walls - Anna guessed that they had Professor Honey, the Herbology teacher, to thank for that - while the ceiling, still enchanted to reflect the sky, revealed a twilit evening, with that soft, mellow feeling that comes with summer. Birds could be heard, singing sweetly, and the whole atmosphere was one of peace and beauty.

"It's wonderful," breathed Anna, turning slowly to absorb the full effect. Theo hugged her arm in fellow appreciation, but Amelia, who had always had a touch of the Philistine in her, took no notice, and gave forth a squeal of excitement as she spied her evening's quarry.

"Anna! There he is!" Anna turned from Theo, scanning the room as eagerly as she could without appearing obvious.

"Where?" Amelia pointed.

"Look, over there, next to the punch table. He's standing next to Camberwell - you know, the Seeker on the Slytherin team." Anna craned her neck, but still couldn't see anything.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. Oh, look at that coat - I do like a man in blue, and it suits him admirably." Amelia sighed blissfully, but Anna just looked confused.

"Who are we looking at, Amelia?"

"Sam Goodbody, of course. Why, who did you… Oh. Ohhh." Anna blushed.

"Oh what?" she asked irritably. "I do wish you'd talk sense, Amelia."

"Oh, I know who you were looking for. Oh, I think you like him more than you're telling us. Oh, I think he's standing right behind you." Anna swung round, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Standing there, resplendent in a coat of green satin was… fifth year Hufflepuff, Angus Leveret. He smiled weakly at her. She glared at him, and turned to face Amelia, who looked as if she was in the latter stages of a fit as she fought to control her giggles.

"That. Was. Not. Funny." Anna bit out, wondering if anyone would notice if she whacked Amelia over the head with a shoe.

"You're smitten."

"I'm not-"

"You're smitten, my dear. Accept it and move on. Oh, and I think you'd better look behind you." And with that she danced off, her sights very firmly set on Sam Goodbody, who was trying - not with any notable success - to ignore the smug expression on Camberwell's face; the expression of a man who caught the Snitch, and ruined his rivals' hopes of winning the Quidditch Cup. Anna, meanwhile, was goggling at the retreating back of her best friend.

"She's an absolute idiot if she thinks I'm going to fall for that twice," she muttered to herself, and turned round once more to tell Angus to stop staring at her and go away. "Look, just leave me alone and find - Oh." Max looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"I had hoped we'd got past the stage of you telling me to leave you alone every three seconds."

"Yes! No - I mean… I didn't realise it was you. Standing there. I thought it was someone… not you."

"All right. Well, it's me, so - would you like to dance." Anna stared at him, her expression slightly dazed. "Anna?"

"Dance! Yes! I mean, yes, I would like to dance with you." He smiled, the warm, sincere, and faintly triumphant smile of a man who has crossed the first hurdle in his pursuit of a woman, and held out his hand. She looked at it, took it, and was pulled into the swirl of dancing, spinning around, her senses a blur of colour and light and music… and the warm clasp of Max's hand about her waist.

"Congratulations, by the way," she said breathlessly a couple of minutes later, as she realised neither of them had said a word. Mrs March had always drummed it into her that it was impolite not to converse with one's partner. "For winning the match today," she clarified, as Max looked at her blankly. He grinned.

"It was a good one."

"Except for the part where you nearly got yourself killed," she returned sharply. His grin widened.

"Oh, come on, Anna! It wasn't that bad."

"It could have been," she replied mulishly.

"But it wasn't." He pulled her a fraction closer, and her breath caught, her fingers tightening reflexively on his arm.

"Maxim! There you are! You promised me a dance, remember?" A quiet groan warned Anna that things might get unpleasant.

"Good evening, Persephone." Max inclined his head at a girl standing at the edge of the dance floor who Anna recognised to be a sixth year in Slytherin. He didn't stop however, and as he whirled Anna away, she caught a glimpse of a beautiful face contracted in fury. She gulped.

"Friend of yours?"

"Hardly. She's been chasing me all year - our parents are friends; you know the sort of thing."

"Mmhmm." Anna was non-committal. Max realised, and gave her a little shake.

"Don't be silly! She's just a bit of nuisance, that's all."

"She's very beautiful." Max shrugged carelessly, still spinning her around in time to the music.

"But not inside. Not where it counts."

The dance was coming to a close, the quartet playing the final bars, when a ruckus broke out on the other side of the room. Anna caught sight of Amelia in her amber dress, and started towards her, only to have Max clamp an arm around her, hauling her back against him.

"Best stay out of it," he hissed into her ear. The crowd cleared slightly, and they saw who was involved. Camberwell, the Slytherin Seeker, had obviously got a little too smug for the tastes of Sam Goodbody, and he had launched at his rival (Sam was the Seeker for Gryffindor), involving several other Quidditch players. The result was predictable, and it took four professors to get them sorted, Professor Leaming, the Transfiguration teacher, nodding to the musicians to start up again. It was a Polonnaise, and Max swung Anna into it half-heartedly.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor. Again." He spoke abruptly after a minute's silence, and Anna started in surprise. She looked at him enquiringly. "It's always the same," he continued, hardly seeming to notice that she was there. "Slytherin and Gryffindor. It's as if they can't be in the same room for five minutes without battling each other."

"It's always been that way," observed Anna, neutrally.

"But I don't understand why." Max was genuinely perplexed, and Anna looked at him curiously.

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"Well, maybe not for those involved. It's - Slytherins see that the end justifies the means. Whatever the end, whatever the means, it's acceptable to sacrifice things to get what you want. Gryffindors are the opposite - the means come before the end. You make decisions based on what, in the long run, you're hoping to get out of it. They base each decision on the moment and the circumstances in which they make it." Max drew away slightly.

"So what you're saying is that we would sacrifice someone for own benefit, but the Gryffindors are too noble for that. Is that what you think of us - of me?"

"No! No, you don't understand. Your end - it could easily be selfish, but it could just as easily be the-the greater good. It's as if - all right. There are twenty men's lives at stake. On the way to saving them, you would have to sacrifice one man. A Gryffindor wouldn't do it, they'd never make that decision to sacrifice someone, even though the end would justify it. They'd try and get round it, and quite possibly lose everyone. A Slytherin wouldn't."

"We'd sacrifice the one man."

"Well, you would, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, of course. It would be the only sensible thing to do." Anna shrugged.

"I think that's where the problem lies: a Slytherin's idea of sense and a Gryffindor's are completely different. You think they are foolish, they think you are cruel."

"And what about Ravenclaws?" Anna grinned delightedly at him.

"We Ravenclaws really are sensible. We keep our eye on the end, and will sacrifice what's necessary. But sometimes that one present man is worth more than twenty future men, and we know that."

"You sound very sure."

"I'm a Ravenclaw. Of course I'm sure."

The music from the Polonnaise died away, and they stood on the dance floor and clapped politely. Then Max escorted her towards the punch table, where Amelia was hovering over Sam, who was every so often twisting round to glare blackly at Roger Camberwell. He barely acknowledged Max's presence, but Amelia beamed at both of them, and poured punch. They chatted for a moment, until Theo wandered up to claim Anna's hand for a country hand, and Max joined his housemates.

The evening carried on to its conclusion, unmarred by any further outbreaks between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the Halliday Quartet readied its bows for the final dance. Anna, who had been passed between partners at a giddy rate, had found herself having a much more enjoyable time than she had anticipated, and now she looked around expectantly. There was only one person she wanted to dance with now, and she smiled gleefully to herself, hugging that knowledge to her chest like something almost tangible. She stood on tip-toe for a better look across the ballroom… and her heart sank, for near the main doors, she could see Max in the middle of a passionate conversation with Persephone Andreievich. Persephone suddenly flung her arms round the gesticulating Max, and Anna bit her lip, backing away from the sight. She bumped into a table, apologised blindly to a tall candelabra, and rushed out into the garden.

Max pushed angrily at the sinuous body wrapping itself around him.

"For God's sake, Persephone!" he growled at her. "For the last time, I'm not interested."

"But Max, your father -"

"My father has nothing to say about how I lead my life. Now, just leave me alone! Go and find someone who actually gives a damn about you!" He managed to disentangle himself, and stalked over to the punch table, where he could see Amelia still tending to her fallen Gryffindor.

"Have you seen Anna?" Amelia looked at him vaguely. She had managed to drape herself all over Goodbody, and Max felt a twinge of pity for the poor bastard: he had no idea what he was letting himself in for.

"No - I think she's out in the garden. Possibly. I wasn't really -" Max headed for the garden doors. He slipped through, breathing in the cool night air that was such a contrast to the suddenly stifling atmosphere indoors. He walked to the end of the terrace, looking left and right to catch a glimpse of the shining chestnut curls and blue dress that identified his favourite Ravenclaw. He clicked his teeth in irritation, silently cursing the wretched Persephone for distracting him. The last dance would be over by the time he found Anna. He spun round again, then decided that Amelia had been too wrapped up in Goodbody to be a reliable witness, and headed back indoors. His hand was on the ornate door handle, when he heard a muffled noise, and he stilled. It came again, and he recognised it as a suppressed sob. Brows furrowed in concern, he returned to the terrace, then rounded the corner of the castle. There, in a crumpled heap of blue skirts, sat Anna Chartwell, her head in her hands, crying fit to break her heart. Max's own heart leapt, and he crouched down beside her, putting a tentative arm round her shoulders.

"Anna…darling, what's the matter?" For a moment she leaned into his embrace, then, as if realising who it was, pulled away sharply, and shot him a look of desolate loathing.

"Go 'way!" He edged closer.

"Not until you tell me what the matter is. Did someone upset you?" She laughed bitterly, brushing a rough hand across her cheeks.

"Like you don't know. What was it, Max? Did you think you'd just have a bit of fun with me, before going back to the girl Daddy picked for you?"

"The girl Daddy… Anna, what are you talking about?"

"I saw you - with her."

"Her… Persephone? You think Persephone and I…? Anna, I can't stand her!"

"But I saw -"

"What? Her with her arms round me? Yes, you probably did. I couldn't get rid of her!" Anna sniffed, and Max pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, let me." He wiped carefully under her eyes, then stopped. Her face was tilted up to his, the moonlight shining on her tear-swollen eyes, flushed cheeks, and rosy mouth, glinting off the highlights in her hair. For Max, she had never looked more lovely, and his heart felt like it was swelling with emotion. Unable to resist, he bent down, and brushed a soft kiss on her forehead. Anna caught her breath, but stayed silent, so, emboldened, he kissed her nose, then her mouth… She tasted soft and sweet, and he prolonged it, pulling away regretfully as she shifted beneath him.

"Anna, how can you think I would look at her twice when I have you in front of me?" He lifted his hand, and pushed a stray curl behind her ear, smiling at her. "Now, m'lady. May I have this dance?" She shook her head, gesturing vaguely at her dress.

"No, I - I'm a bit of a mess -"

"I think they're done in there, anyway."

"Then how can we dance?" Max smiled, and held out his hand. Anna stood, returning the smile ruefully. "Magic, of course. I always forget!" He smiled again, but said nothing, but drew him to her. They spun round once, twice, slowly, until Anna realised she could hear music after all. But it wasn't magic; at least not the sort she had expected. She sighed happily, and leant against Max, hearing the words ruffling the curls at her ear.

"Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
And who but my lady greensleeves.
"

Act Four: In Which Our Heroine Receives Two Letters