SIXTH YEAR

Paul and Amanda knew not to expect me at the feast. They were used to me slipping off every year after Hogwarts Express pulled into the station and this year, sixth year, was no different. Such good friends, they never even questioned my transportation method into Hogwarts castle.

I'd left Gryffindor Tower for last. The other House quarters were more difficult to conduct my yearly inspection, as I was in fact a Gryffindor. But, with the hardest ones done, and only the spell in the Ravenclaw common room needing to be recast because of slight fading, I was able to examine my spells in Gryffindor Tower quickly. The Sorting was probably finishing up by now, but time was still tight. House Elves would be along any minute with the Gryffindor trunks.

Luckily, all the Gryffindor spells were still holding strong. I was getting better at keeping them up through the summer. Second year had been a disaster – every single one left from first year had failed and needed to be replaced. After that I'd gotten into the habit of checking the ones in the House rooms during the feast. Others around the castle could be inspected anytime, I just needed to get to the House ones before they were swarming with students.

In my haste to leave I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings. I certainly didn't expect anyone else to be in my way. So when I came sliding down the railing of the girls dormitory spiraling staircase and crashed into something soft that went "oomph" it took me several moments to get over the shock.

"Do you mind?" said a male voice angrily as he untangled himself from me.

Okay, that was unreasonable. Getting angry at me just because he had planted himself in my way. In my day that was considered impolite. Clearly I was not dealing with a gentleman. "What the hell!" I exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" he said, and I looked up, still lying uncomfortably on the floor, to discover that it was Sirius Black.

Him. That changed things a bit. What was he doing here instead of at the feast? Under the pretense of slowly standing up I glanced at his hands. It looked like someone had been up to no good – there were smudges of flour on his fingers. From where he had been standing at the time of the crash he had probably just been coming out of the boys' stairs.

It was an old trick. Someone was going slide into their covers after a long day only to get a floury surprise. When they tried to wash off the flour, it would turn dough like and sticky.

He wouldn't dare sabotage the First Year beds. Would he? No, he'd learned his lesson years ago. First Years were off limits. Besides, if it was that big of a prank, all of the Marauders would be involved. Sirius wouldn't be sneaking around without his mates unless… the joke was on one of them.

Well, that was all right then. Just as long as it wasn't Peter. But it wouldn't be Peter, either, Sirius had also learned that lesson years ago. Peter, too, was off limits.

"Oh dear, you've dropped your things," I said pleasantly, and bent back down to collect up the various items.

"Don't bother," Sirius said, so I handed him the empty flour sack I'd picked up. Someone needed to learn how to correctly dispose of evidence.

"Very original," I told him. "James Potter flirts with your girl so you flour his bed. That'll teach him."

Leaving Sirius standing there gaping, holding the limp flour sack, I headed out of the common room. Point one for process of elimination.

FIRST YEAR

Headmaster Dumbledore entered his office, tired from the rigors of the first day of term at Hogwarts. This year hadn't started off as smoothly as others – during the feast four newly Sorted Gryffindor boys had tripped a Slytherin and poured cranberry sauce down his robes "by accident." Needless to say, Dumbledore was looking forward to a rest form the mayhem that had followed.

Dumbledore froze. His favorite comfy chair by the fire was already occupied. In it lounged a small figure languidly sipping a cup of steaming hot tea. A first year, he guessed, though the air of sophistication was worldly beyond her years.

"Hello Professor," she said with a slight American accent. A formative few years spent in the States, he thought unconsciously. No more than three, then travel in Europe, followed by a long stay in England. "My parents send their greetings."

The light from the fire shifted briefly onto her face and Dumbledore smiled to himself. The features were familiar – she was a perfect eleven year old image of her mother.

"Thank you, Alex Moore," he said. "May I join you?"

SIXTH YEAR

I took my usual place in Dumbledore's office, settling down by the fire and conjuring up the tea that was waiting in the kitchens. Ever since I'd first made myself known in almost the exact same position, it had become a habit. After the feast was over Dumbledore would join me.

It didn't take him long. I was halfway through my first cup when Dumbledore appeared.

"Well, my dear, you missed a fairly uneventful feast," he said blithely as I passed him the cup the teapot had poured out for him.

"I'm all in despair." I took another sip, waiting as he settled in.

"Nervous, excited young faces from the First Years, and much the same less the nerves from the returning students. A joyous occasion filled with promise for the new year."

"As one can only hope. "

"I trust your inspection went well?" he asked.

"Yes. Only the spell in the Ravenclaw–"

"I don't want to know," he said, smiling.

"Of course you don't," I said, giving him a little wink, which he laughed heartily at. "Although there was one incident…"

"Sirius Black?" He looked at me innocently over his spectacles.

"You know that because you saw his late entrance to the feast," I said, dismissing his attempt to be all knowing and wise. "Remember, your dramatic act doesn't work on me."

Dumbledore apologized humbly, and I told him about running into Sirius. He appreciated the pun.

"What did you do to the poor boy? He could barely enjoy his food."

"Nothing much, though it was tempting. I mean, I had Sirius Black in my hands…and I never did fully address the water episode last year. What a pity the situation was too overt for me to leave a Q."

FIRST YEAR

"Detention won't work," Alex said suddenly.

Dumbledore kept his eyes on the four figures trudging across the courtyard below to attend their first detention as a result of the previous night's food fight. For all their reluctance they were laughing and joking around. "Oh? You prefer a harsher punishment? Perhaps I should give Filch the go ahead…"

"No." Alex nudged him, smiling slightly. "Not a harsher one – a different one."

Dumbledore was silent, giving her the chance to continue.

Alex tapped her fingers rhythmically on the sill of the tower window. "They won't learn anything or change their ways because of a detention. It will just be a minor consequence causing them to hold a grudge against the system. And if they view the system as unjust, they'll be convinced rebellion in is the right. This will just give them a moral excuse to continue flouting rules and ignoring whatever compassion towards other lesser that their mothers tried to instill."

Down below, at a hidden signal, three of the boys suddenly took off running, laughing as they left behind the bewildered fourth boy, the shortest and pudgiest of the lot. His shouts of "Wait!" and "Why'd you do that?" could be heard to the two watchers in the tower.

"That was cruel," Alex said quietly. "Not pulling wings off butterflies cruel, but horribly degrading to a human being's self confidence."

"All boys act that way," Dumbledore reminded her. Her passion about this topic of conversation was very interesting. With parents like hers, it was surprising to see such a strong sense of right and wrong in a young girl. However… he briefly wondered what her childhood had been like. Had she been bullied? Unlikely, given her parents. But, also given her parents, very likely she'd witnessed horrors most adults could not comprehend. She probably knew first hand how a depressed boy could grow into a cold blooded assassin. The thought of what this girl might have seen worried Dumbledore. It was quite possible her parents had not bothered to shelter her from any of it.

"At their age, without any better example or role model, yes. But it's preventable. But I'll bet, before the hour long detention is finished, those four will be the largest behavior problem in Hogwarts." She watched the last boy run awkwardly after the others.

"Even that one?" he asked, curious as to her response.

"Yes. After detention he'll be one of their own. They won't abandon one of their own." She shrugged and gave him a wicked grin. "It's a Gryffindor trait, unfortunately," she said playfully.

Dumbledore laughed at that, but wasn't fooled by her sudden change in tone. She'd thought she was showing too much emotion, not appearing as stoic as she would have liked. As stoic as experience had trained her. He silently promised to encourage her into seeing the wonders of life, instead of only the disappointing truth. "Fascinating," he said. "Shall we have tea again tomorrow?"

SIXTH YEAR

I met Paul and Amanda later in the common room, which was almost empty at this late hour. Everyone had gone upstairs to crash except a few Fifth Years playing wizard chess in the corner. Wand in hand, I quickly charmed a sound proof barrier around my friends before joining them in lounging about on the couches.

"How's our Dumbledore?" Amanda asked in her usual nonchalant drawl.

"He's well," I told her. "Spent a few weeks in Morocco getting burned to a crisp. Told me he thinks the healing potion makes his toes tickle inexplicably."

But Amanda wasn't interested in gossiping about Dumbledore. "I have a friend with friends in high places," she'd once told me. "I can do without the grocery list updates. Trust me, given the opportunity, I can still shamelessly exploit the connection without them."

"Not inexplicably, then, if he knows the cause," Paul teased.

"Poor word choice," I admitted. "But it was rather dramatic, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll say," Amanda said, pointing at one of the chess players, "That one is going to lose. Alex, do your Q thing and stop the injustice."

"What? Why's he going to lose?" demanded Paul.

"His frienemy is cheating," I told him. We all watched, fascinated, as the cheater pulled a fake yawn to induce his victim into a real one, then took the opportunity to move a knight across the board. "I wish I could,' I said to Amanda, "but I always appreciate a cleverly pulled distraction. That was a good one."

We mused for a few minutes until Amanda grew bored and asked, "When do we start work?"

"Tomorrow," I said. "You deserve a break on the first day." I had impressed Paul and Amanda into service reviewing the "footage" from my watch spells, only to have my bestest friends rebel and demand payment. Now they got paid by the hour, the ungrateful weasels.

"Oh, pish. You say that only because you've already pulled something," dismissed Amanda.

"Really?" Paul perked up. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," I protested. Really, she was insufferably astute. "I happened to collide with Sirius Black on his way back from dumping flour into James Potter's bed. Bumped my elbow a bit."

"Please," Amanda drawled. "I know you were eavesdropping on the Marauders during the train ride." I didn't even have time to give my defense of keeping an eye on things so I'd know what I was dealing with this year. "We all heard the fight between James and Sirius. Of course your superior powers of deduction would predict Sirius' revenge. A floury collision with Gryffindor's number one bachelor? As if you didn't plan it, you minx."

Goodness, what a mix of compliments and preposterous accusations. Sure, I was a bit omnipresent, but to call that accident planned? If I had planned it, it wouldn't have been a crash. It would have been a smackdown, of course.

Author's Note: Well? You have questions, yes? Like, O Writer, what is this "Q" everyone is going on about? What is up with Alex's parents? And who took the cookie from the cookie jar? It was you. It was ALL you.

Chapter 2 coming up soon...