3. A LIVING LEGEND

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a big place. With each passing day, Alex discovered that the hard way. Her idea of flying a broomstick around school didn't sound so absurd now. Reading in Hogwarts, A History that the school had one hundred and forty-two staircases wasn't the same as having to traverse them. They were brutal. It didn't help that almost none of them led to the same place no matter if you went up and down them the same way as before. Hogwarts was as magical as the classes it taught. The 'appeal' of running into a wall she assumed was a door had long since run dry for Alex. If it wasn't for the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost, giving out instructions to clueless first years like her, she would never make it to class on time. Rather than books, she felt Hogwarts should have told incoming students to buy a map.

"So, Potions is in the dungeon, right? That's down that staircase?"

The Grey Lady nodded. Getting the correct directions for once was nice. Alex had been foolish enough to ask Peeves, another ghost, first. In her defense, he found her, not the other way around, to play another prank on her. She really should have known something was wrong when he grew suddenly polite and helpful. She got the surprise of her life when rather than Potions class, she found herself knee deep in the Owlery. Having so many owls squawk at her, upset she had disturbed their slumber, was quite the experience. Her robes remained covered in feathers.

"A word of caution, my dear—I would not consult Peeves anymore," The Grey Lady said in a serene voice. Alex rather liked her, unlike some of the other ghosts at Hogwarts (Peeves' cackling visage came to mind again). She was beautiful (for a dead person), friendly and unlike Alex, actually knowledgeable about Hogwarts many, many hallways and secret passages.

"I won't. You don't have to worry about that," Alex replied grudgingly. "Thank you."

The Grey Lady gave her a smile. "Very good. And about that book..."

"I'm reading it. It's very fascinating. Thank you for loaning it to me."

The Grey Lady bowed before gliding away. A woman of few words, it was always a treat when she did open her mouth.

"Oh, hell! What am I doing?!"

Alex had already been running late for Potions even before bumping into Peeves and then the Grey Lady. Moving as fast as her skinny legs would carry her, she made a beeline for the dungeon. There was barely anyone left in the halls, meaning she was seriously running behind schedule. If Filch and that pesky cat of his, Mrs. Norris, caught her now...

"This place really wears at the nerves..."

Five days had gone by since she started her schooling at Hogwarts. Navigating the innumerable corridors was difficult, yet, not as much as her classes. She feared before coming to school that she wouldn't be any good at performing magic, and she soon learned she wasn't far off.

Her Transfiguration class was taught by none other than Professor Minerva McGonagall. Alex was no less terrified of her now than she had been on her first day. McGonagall was strict, which wasn't helped by Alex being absolutely miserable when it came to transfiguring things. Turning a match into a needle was a trying prospect. Fortunately, no one else in her class could do it either. Luna Lovegood came the closest, but even hers was some weird needle and match hybrid that would sometimes ignite of its own accord.

"I think I'll keep it," Luna said after class was over. "It's cute."

Alex didn't bother asking how so.

She was a little better at Charms. For one, it was a lot easier since there was far less to remember. Plus, it was taught by Professor Flitwick, who was by far the most patient man Alex had ever known. Even when she screwed up, he was more than willing to show her the proper way to wave her wand as many times as needed.

"There are no such things as stupid questions, Miss Worthington. In fact, asking them shows a healthy amount of curiosity!"

Like the Grey Lady, Alex rather liked Flitwick and was glad he was Ravenclaw's Head of House and not McGonagall.

"Remember, it's Wingardium Levi-OH-sah, not Levi-AH-sah. Common mistake," he told her last Tuesday after she couldn't for the life of her get the feather he asked the class to levitate well...levitating. Again, though no one in her class could do it on the first day, Luna came the closest. Alex wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or impressed that someone as nutty as Luna Lovegood was such a fast learner.

Herbology wasn't too bad. Though Alex hated going out to the greenhouse and dealing with so many revolting plants, she found Professor Sprout both kind and knowledgeable. Even so, she could already say that a career taking care of and growing plants wasn't in the cards for her. She already had enough of Bouncing Bulbs slapping her on the face.

There was one class, however, where she excelled. Ironically, it was one that many at Hogwarts thought the most boring—History of Magic. Finally, all of Alex's reading before coming to school was paying off. She could answer just about every question Professor Binns, the ghost that taught the class, asked before he even finished asking it. As such, she already had the best grades in her class. History of Magic might have been utterly dull, but she was still in a room of highly competitive Ravenclaws. Losing out to her irritated most of her peers to no end. One girl even went as far as to tell Alex she would 'crush her' during the next test.

Whatever that meant.

"So, Emetic the Evil..."

"...was one of the owners of the Deathstick, which some people conclude is the same as the Wand of Destiny, sir," said Alex, raising her hand and speaking before Professor Binns could call on her. "He was also killed in a duel by Egbert the Egregious. It wasn't pretty what happened to his body from what I've read."

"Oh, yes," said Professor Binns in his usual, dry tone. "Very good, Miss Weatherspoon."

"Um...Worthington, sir."

"Of course. Of course. Forgive me, Miss Weatherby. I'm getting on in years. My mind isn't what it used to be, my dear."

And neither was his body, which Alex could see right through. It seemed Professor Binns didn't notice he was actually dead. The might have explained why he hadn't been chucked out of the school. On the other hand, how would one fire a ghost? If Hogwarts could do that, Peeves would have been long gone already.

Unlike a lot of other students, Alex had relatively little interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She couldn't imagine herself ever having to duel someone, let alone a dark wizard.

The class was taught by Professor Quirinius Quirrell, a pitiful, nervous wreck of a man who stuttered constantly, making his lectures hard to understand. That was bad because there wasn't much wand waving. Instead, Quirrell would often get too shaken up recalling the dangerous encounters of his past and cut the lesson short, allowing his class to talk among themselves. It basically became a free period. Alex felt sorry for him. He must have been through something awfully traumatic to be so twitchy. Even so, she wasn't going to attempt to cheer him up since his class was almost as easy as Professor Binns'.

That just left Potions, the only class she hadn't attended yet. It would be during second period that Friday, and she earlier discovered that her class would be learning alongside one of the other Houses.

Maybe it'll be Gryffindor! And that means...

Harry Potter.

Either he was ducking her or she simply had poor luck. Whatever the case, Alex hadn't managed to find hide nor hair of him since the Sorting Ceremony. They were in different houses, sure, but she didn't think that meant they would never run into one another. She had bumped into plenty of other Gryffindors, so certainly, she would eventually stumble upon Potter, right? Maybe today was the day. She sped up, quite looking forward to Potions now.

...Until she reached the classroom in the dungeons where the lesson was. At first, she figured she had stumbled to the wrong place. The room was too dark, eerily dark, to be a place of learning. She changed her mind when dozens of eyes turned to her as she shut the heavy, stone door behind her. They were other students, some looking as sheepish as her. The classroom was frigid, enough to make her rub her arms. Perhaps it had something to do with all the pickled animals and other unrecognizable objects floating in glass jars along the walls. They were beyond creepy. Slowly, Alex made her way inside the room, narrowing her eyelids at the light from the dim candles, which bathed the room in pale light.

"You must be lost. Do you have some reason for interrupting my lecture?"

The voice that spoke to her made her stop in her tracks. It was about as frosty as the temperature. Alex looked up halfheartedly at the man standing at the head of the room. His trembling lips, curled into a wicked frown, made it clear he was upset. At once, Alex found an empty seat, one that happened to be beside Luna Lovegood.

"What took you?" whispered Luna. "I don't believe now is the time to be looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

Alex didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she kept her amber eyes glued to the tall, sallow-skinned man burning a hole into her with his beady, black ones. His hair was the same color, and quite greasy if Alex had anything to say about it. Without ever seeing or even speaking to this man before, she could already say that she did not like him very much.

"You didn't answer me," the teacher said in an even more scathing voice. The classroom was dead quiet save for the quivering of the burning candles. "By sitting there, are you suggesting you're one of my students? Because I've already done roll call, and you didn't answer."

"Because I...wasn't here, sir. How could I have...?"

Alex stopped. Her instincts told her she was crossing a line and that she would dearly regret it. The teacher glared at her even harder, as if striving to kill her with looks alone, before moving over to his desk and retrieving a book. Alex figured it must have been the attendance sheet. The man slowly made his way down the list of names in front of him.

"Worthington," he said, leering back up at Alex. "Alexandra Worthington. Is that you?"

Not having the nerve to speak again, Alex settled on nodding.

"And you're a Ravenclaw, correct? A first year?"

Again, Alex nodded.

"And do you have some reason for being twenty minutes late to my class? Perhaps, being a Worthington, you consider yourself above the rules, but showing up to my lessons whenever you feel like it will not do."

Alex, shrinking even further into her seat, didn't bother to respond in any way this time on account of being scared witless.

"Your Head of House will hear about this. For the time being that's five points from Ravenclaw."

While no one in her class said anything, Alex could feel the mood in the room shift. She also noticed a number of people scowling at her out of the corner of her eye. The situation was frustrating, sure, but she only had herself to blame for losing Ravenclaw points in the House Cup.

And maybe Peeves.

"That's Professor Severus Snape," whispered Luna. She was one of the few who didn't look as if she was itching to tear Alex limb from limb. "Best not to get on his bad side."

"Too late for that, I think," voiced Alex, clenching her teeth.

"Now then," said Professor Snape, returning to the head of the room. His cold eyes remained on Alex, causing her to recoil like a tortoise hiding in its shell, "I'm afraid I don't have time to repeat what I've already stated only for you, Worthington, even if you do fancy yourself some kind of celebrity."

Alex bit her bottom lip and resisted the urge to fight back. That seemed to be exactly what Snape was pining for. She was already in enough hot water.

"What's his problem?" she snarled under her breath. "I was late, sure, but…!"

"I don't think it's only you. He was already in a bad mood when we first got here," said Luna.

"That's not my problem! He shouldn't…!"

"Worthington!" Snape wasn't done with her just yet. "Let's see if you've used your time playing hooky wisely. What would I get if I added powdered root of an asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

All attention fell upon Alex again. Feeling the heat, she struggled to work out an answer. Snape was putting her purposely into a situation where she could fail spectacularly. After all, she highly doubted the question was something one could grasp during her first day of Potions class.

Were teachers supposed to be this conniving?

Of course, not many first years read Magical Drafts and Potions and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi front to back like she had, so the circumstances weren't entirely hopeless.

"You would...um..." She took a deep breath, striving to remember a specific passage. "You would make Draught of Living Death, sir. It's a potion so powerful, it puts the victim into a sleep that seems like death."

Lines full of fury spread across Snape's lips. "...Correct."

A wave of whispering spread throughout the class, but Snape held his hand up, silencing everyone on the spot.

"Fine," he growled. "What's the difference, Worthington, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Alex couldn't help but crack a tiny smile. Another easy question.

"There is no difference, sir. They're the exact same plant. A third name for it, in fact, is aconite."

The remaining color drained from Snape's already pale face. "Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Admittedly having to think a little harder for that one, Alex eventually snapped her fingers and proclaimed, "The stomach of a goat, sir. If I'm not mistaken (she didn't think she was) you can use a bezoar as an antidote for a number of poisons."

This time, there were a number of audible gasps from the crowd. Alex readied herself for another volley of questions, but instead, Snape marched over to his desk and pulled out a cauldron. He slammed it on his desk in a clear fit of rage, startling just about everyone in the dungeon.

"You're quite the know-it-all, aren't you, Worthington?"

Alex thought that wholly unfair. Snape, after all, was the one who set himself up for embarrassment by attempting to make her look like an idiot.

"Come up here."

"B-But, sir..."

"Now, foolish girl!"

Alex's legs moved for her and bounded toward Snape in the blink of an eye. He pointed a stern finger behind his desk, telling her to stand there wordlessly. She did so on the double before peering down into the empty cauldron.

"You're in for a treat, class," said Snape. The crooked smirk on his face gave Alex the chills. "Since she knows so much about it, Worthington is about to brew the Draught of Living Death for us today. It is a very advanced potion normally reserved for fifth years in my O.W.L. lessons. However, I'm sure Worthington here will do just fine. I suggest everyone pull out their quills and take notes."

Though yearning to, Alex didn't whimper. She could hardly even breathe. As everyone did as Snape instructed, she gazed at Luna, who was mouthing, "You can do it." She would need a little more motivation than that.

Snape gathered the necessary ingredients on his desk.

"Well?" he said with far too much satisfaction in his voice. "We're waiting. Oh, and note that if you fail, I'm afraid it will be ten points from Ravenclaw this time."

Ten?! Is he insane?!

She was as good as dead if she lost Ravenclaw fifteen points in one day. People would be throwing curses at her left and right in the corridors. She picked up the wormwood in one hand and the powdered root of asphodel in the other. With Snape scowling over her shoulders, she gulped and dropped the two materials in, having no clue what to do afterward. She had read plenty about the Draught of Living Death and how it worked, but actually putting the concoction together was beyond what was stated in all her books. And Snape knew it. Alex growled and wasn't sure why the potions master was intent on torturing her like this.

"Time is ticking, Worthington," she heard Snape say. Anger began to replace her anxiousness. She might have been hopelessly lost, yet, that didn't mean she wasn't at least going to try.

This can't be...uh...too hard, right?

She began picking things up at random and adding them to the cauldron. All the while, she could feel Snape boring into the back of her head. He didn't say or do anything to let her know if she was doing well...or threatening to blow the entire classroom up. The longer she worked, the more confident she became. She stirred her potion two times counterclockwise before adding the sloth brain. That left her with the Sopophorous bean juice and a room that was so quiet, it was actually ruining her concentration. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she saw the bubbling, red potion was starting to resemble...something. She didn't dare look up from it to see her fellow Ravenclaws, who were no doubt counting on her screwing up. It was only then she realized the other class was a bunch of Hufflepuffs, not Gryffindors after all. That was definitely the icing on her crap cake. No matter where she went, it seemed she couldn't escape her family's Hufflepuff curse.

Then again, embarrassing myself in front of Harry Potter would've been a close second.

A strange smell wafted its way through the dungeon. It wasn't by any means revolting, but it was strong, overwhelming even. Alex and almost everyone in the room found themselves scrunching their noses.

"Congratulations, Worthington," said Snape. "You've successfully crafted Bloodroot, a poison so potent and powerful that I won't be able to use that cauldron again even with thorough cleaning. Also, I would suggest everyone in this room leave at once. The smell of this poison alone can induce headaches, nosebleeds, and nausea."

Everyone saw for themselves when one of the Hufflepuffs suddenly vomited all over his robes. The disgusting sight was enough to make those present flee before they ended up in the same boat.

"While I'm sure someone of your status is used to buying your way to success," began Snape, grinning even more, "you can see now that even the slightest mistake can lead to disastrous results. You neglected to sufficiently crush the Sopophorous beans, the sloth brain was still filthy, you turned counterclockwise instead of clockwise toward the..."

Alex missed the end of Snape's rant on account of collapsing. The dungeon around her spun, and she was certain she was going to be sick herself.

"Idiot girl!" she heard Snape declare angrily before the world around her swirled into darkness.

"Ow...that really hurts..."

With her head pounding, Alex woke up from a sleep she couldn't recall taking. Her senses gradually returned, including her eyesight.

"Where...?"

She was in a well-sized room with many beds. It led her to first believe she was back in her dormitory. This place was different, however, having a strong smell of disinfectant in the air. Bright, blinding light shone in from one of the many windows. Alex covered her face as she sat up to get a better look around.

"No you don't!"

Out of nowhere, an old witch raced across the room and firmly placed her hands on Alex's shoulders, forcing the latter to lay back down.

"You need your rest!" the nurse insisted. Confused and a bit frightened, Alex nodded hurriedly. "I tell you, that Professor Snape! I'm going to run out of beds if he sends me any more of his students."

Hearing Severus Snape's name jump started Alex's memory. Instinctively, she sat up again.

"That jerk! I'll...!"

"Lay down, Miss Worthington!"

Alex allowed the elderly nurse to help her back into a comfortable position. Her outburst left her a bit dizzy anyway.

"Who are you?" she asked. "And...where am I?"

"I am Madam Pomfrey. And this, my dear, is the Hospital Wing."

So it was. Alex took another gander around and then became morbidly curious as to whether she had killed anyone back down in the dungeon. She supposed not since there wasn't an entire class there with her.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked as her eyes welled with tears.

Madam Pomfrey gave her a warm smile. "Not at all. But you are very sick. You're going to have to rest here for the time being. Professor Snape explained the whole thing to me after he rushed you here. You're lucky you only got a small whiff of that Bloodroot poison. Even a sip meant I would have had to call your parents to arrange a funeral."

Alex smacked her lips. Having Snape be the one to save her while also knowing he was the reason she was hospitalized to begin with left her conflicted. Did he expect a thank you? He would be lucky if she ever attended Potions again. On the other hand, it was compulsory for first years like her, so her hands were tied. At least Snape wasn't there now. Otherwise, she couldn't guarantee stopping herself from strangling him to death. Pouting, she remained firmly still as Madam Pomfrey checked her over, feeling a tingling sensation in her arms and legs.

"Am I going to die?" she fearfully asked.

Grabbing a tray from across the room, Madam Pomfrey returned to her side and poured the contents of an unmarked bottle into a small cup. "No, but you'll have to drink this, I'm afraid."

Alex peered at the liquid. It was gray and had no discernible smell to it. Though Madam Pomfrey held it out for her to take, she inched her head away, afraid of the unknown.

"Come on now, dear," said the nurse, frowning. "It's going to taste awful, but it won't hurt. If we were regrowing bones, that would be a different story."

Alex guessed that was supposed to make her feel better. It didn't. Nevertheless, she took the cup and decided to down whatever was in it in one swig. As the liquid traveled down and burned her throat, she nearly hurled. Madam Pomfrey hadn't been kidding about the taste. The nurse handed her a glass of water afterward. She drank it greedily though could still taste the other liquid as clear as day.

"What was that?" she had to ask.

"It'll make sure you're right as rain in the morning," answered Madam Pomfrey as she tucked Alex safely and securely under her bed sheets. "You'll only have to rest here until this afternoon though, so don't fret. Until then, get some rest."

Rest sounded delightful. Alex simply didn't believe she would get any with so much on her plate. Did Snape hate her? She didn't understand why he would. They hadn't even met before today. He had gone on about her wealth. It was no secret the Worthingtons possessed many riches. Perhaps he was jealous.

Remaining on the subject, Tristan Thorne, the rude third year who nearly broke her neck during the start-of-term feast, appeared to have an issue with her family name as well. She hoped that wasn't a common thread at Hogwarts or else she might get expelled for raining curses on everyone.

"Why are there so many insufferable jerks at this school?" she wondered. "It wasn't like I asked to have loads of money."

She gave it a rest and yearned sleep. She could fret over Snape and Tristan after a nice, long nap.

She had barely begun to snore when she heard someone moaning like the undead. Against Madam Pomfrey's wishes, she shot back up and only then noticed a boy laying in a bed not far from her own (close to the Hufflepuff who had unfortunately thrown up his breakfast back in Potions). He was the one making all the noise, and although Alex couldn't quite tell what was wrong with him, he sounded absolutely miserable.

"Are you alright over there?"

The boy gave her a slight groan. She couldn't tell if that meant he was indeed alive or instead dying. Should she call for Madam Pomfrey?

"I'm okay..."

The black-haired boy sat up, giving Alex a full view of the numerous red boils on his arms and legs.

"Not to be mean," she began, "but...those look dreadful."

"They feel dreadful," the sniffling boy conceded. "But...Madam Pomfrey says I'll be okay."

Alex was glad to hear that. "Hey, I know you. You're the boy that was on the train, the one who lost his toad."

Miserably, the boy nodded. "I'm...Neville. Neville Longbottom."

"My name is Alex Worthington. Are you sure you're alright, Neville?"

Neville whimpered but managed to nod. "S'alright. Madam Pomfrey says she has some medicine that'll fix the boils right up. They really hurt though..."

Alex didn't doubt they did. Neville, at the moment anyway, seemed even more pitiful than Professor Quirrell.

"What happened?"

Reluctantly, Neville recalled his exploits in Potions class and how he burned a hole right through his cauldron mixing his potion wrong. It spilled all over him, hence why he was covered in blistering boils.

"That's horrible!" Alex exclaimed. She snarled, adding, "Snape! That jerk! He's the reason I'm here too!"

"Really?" Neville's countenance became a bit brighter. He took a bit of solace in knowing he wasn't the only one capable of screwing up his schoolwork so badly. "Y-Yeah, Snape doesn't...like me very much. S'alright. I'm a nobody, so I didn't expect to be good at Potions anyway."

I get the feeling Snape doesn't like a lot of his students.

"Hey, don't say that. Cheer up, Neville. I'll gladly hex Snape in his sleep if it'll make you feel better."

It did. Neville cracked the slightest of grins. "...Thanks. You...shouldn't do that though. You'll get in a lot of trouble."

That was almost worth it to Alex if she could break Snape's crooked nose.

The conversation died down, and Alex hoped Madam Pomfrey wouldn't make her take any more of that revolting medicine. There was no way she would be able to swallow another cup.

"Wait. You said your name was Longbottom?" she asked just then.

With another grunt, Neville nodded.

"My mother knows your grandmother. She says they often have tea together. What house are you in, Neville? We should have breakfast together."

With some hesitance, Neville replied, "...Gryffindor."

"Really?" Alex hadn't been able to hide both the surprise and skepticism in her voice. "S-Sorry, I..."

"It's alright, "Neville assured her. "I'm...used it by now. I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in Hufflepuff, but..."

His explanation trailed off, and he left it at that. Alex doubted there were many who would willingly ask to be placed in Hufflepuff, so she didn't believe Neville at first. It made sense, however, the longer she mulled it over. From first impressions, he appeared too timid and jumpy for Gryffindor. She couldn't understand then why the hat hadn't granted his wish.

"I'll find you tomorrow morning, okay?"

Having never been to breakfast in the Great Hall before (she usually hung back in the dormitory reading before first period), Alex wasn't sure if it was okay for people from different Houses to sit together.

Neville nodded again. Alex could tell he was neither in the mood or any shape to talk any longer, so she decided to let him rest.

"Uh...get better. Okay?"

He gave her a grunt of acknowledgment, and things fell silent again. Alex, yawning, supposed she had better get some sleep herself. She wasn't sure if it was the work of that nasty medicine or not, but she couldn't keep her eyes open.

As she drifted into a deep sleep, she dreamed herself back in Snape's dungeon. There, she was hitting him upside the head with a ruler for screwing up the Draught of Living Death potion (he added too many Chocolate Frogs). She laughed maniacally as she took all of Slytherin's points.

It was a very nice dream.

Alex awoke to the sound of loud barking. In a daze, she sat up. She was still in the hospital wing, though she didn't see Madam Pomfrey anywhere. The window to her right had less light shining through it. With a yawn, she saw that evening was fast approaching. Since it was Friday, she didn't have any afternoon lessons. She was free to do whatever, and considering she felt much better, she intended to head back to the common room and catch up on some reading.

That was until she heard the same barking that woke her up.

"A dog?"

It couldn't have belonged to any of the students. As far as she knew, you were only allowed to bring either owls, cats, or toads.

"Neville, do you hear...?"

But Neville was fast asleep. In light of his injuries, she decided against waking him.

"Back, Fang. Back."

Alex recognized that voice. She scrambled over to a window and soon spotted a hut in the distance. Standing in the doorway was a man too large to be normal, one who had to be...

"Hagrid!" she declared. She hadn't seen him since her first day at Hogwarts. For someone so big, she had to commend him for being able to stay out of sight. "So that's who that hut belongs to."

She saw it a number of times on her way to Herbology but never thought to ask who lived in it.

"That's right. He's the gamekeeper, so I guess he would have to live close to the school."

More importantly, she spotted a pair of students entering Hagrid's hut before he shut the door behind them. Chances were slim, and she didn't get a proper look at him due to being so far away, but she could have sworn one of the boys was...

"Harry Potter!"

It was worth investigating.

Sorry, Madam Pomfrey.

"Where are you going?! Worthington!"

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey calling after her, Alex moved as fast as she could. She had been waiting for this opportunity ever since hearing about Potter back on the Hogwarts Express. She wasn't going to let it slip through her fingertips this time.

Why is he going to see Hagrid though?

The voyage to Hagrid's house was tricky, just like trying to get anywhere else in Hogwarts. It looked rather close from the hospital wing, but Alex, gasping for air, realized she should have known better. Still, she got there eventually. Next was dragging herself over to Hagrid's front door before lifting her arm to knock. It fell to her side, however, limping like a wet noodle. She didn't have any energy left.

"Can't...breathe..." she choked out. "Note to self—EXERCISE!"

Barking coming from the other side of the door gave her a rather nasty fright. Being no good with animals, she hoped whatever it was wouldn't try to bite her head off. She successfully knocked this time after gathering a sufficient amount of courage.

"Alrigh', alrigh', Fang! Back I say! Back!"

That was Hagrid alright. Alex crossed her fingers. Harry Potter had better be inside. Otherwise, she was wasting her time.

"Who is it?" asked Hagrid after opening the door. Alex paused, staring up in awe. He was even bigger than she remembered, and she could hardly see his face on account of his bushy beard. "Hang on. I remember yeh. Yer..."

"Alex Worthington. Let's skip the formalities. Is Potter here?"

"Yer lookin' fer Harry?" asked Hagrid raising an eyebrow. Lines of suspicion painted his massive face. "What fer?"

"Please, it's...important."

Still unsure, Hagrid eventually nodded and gestured for her to come in. She grinned from ear to ear, though there was one problem.

She couldn't move.

It felt like weights were holding her down. Blushing, she couldn't believe she was this out of shape. Or perhaps it was the effects of the drink Madam Pomfrey gave her. It was likely she shouldn't have been moving around so soon after taking it.

"Still ain't got yer land legs?"

Hagrid chuckled, and much to Alex's displeasure, hoisted her onto his massive shoulder. She had a major case of déjà vu. This wasn't how she planned on getting inside the hut, though it was at least the desired result. She gave herself a thumbs up.

"Alrigh', Fang!" grunted Hagrid. "We got another guest! Back, I say!"

A huge, black boar hound came into view. Alex shrieked when it pressed its front paws on Hagrid's stomach in an effort to reach her. Of course a giant would have an equally oversized dog. At the very least, Fang's intimidating appearance ended up being misleading. He wagged his tail happily, practically begging to get to her. Though hesitant, she asked Hagrid to let her down. Fang, as expected, knocked her off her feet when he pounced on her.

"Don' worry. He don' bite," Hagrid assured her.

"He does lick though," she stated with a sour face, bracing herself as Fang's tongue reached her face. This had to have been the happiest dog she had ever encountered.

"Who's this then, Hagrid?"

Shoving Fang back enough to get a proper look at who just spoke (no easy task since he weighed at least twice as much as her), Alex held her breath. More appropriately, she couldn't breathe.

Here he was at long last.

Harry Potter gazed back at her curiously. So did a tall, gangly, and red-haired boy. Potter was a lot skinnier than she had imagined. Shorter too, although she didn't believe she was one to talk. And what was with those glasses? They were so...thick, as if he were instead wearing a pair of telescopes. She squinted like doing so would make the boy before her seem a bit more...how should she put it?

Intimidating. Impressive. Like a legend.

"Well?" said Hagrid. "There's yer Harry Potter."

While that may have been the case, Alex felt it ironic that she had no clue what to say after searching for Harry all this time. Hagrid offered her some rock cakes. She paid the plate dangling in front of her no mind, lost in a trance. Eventually, she stepped forward.

"Um..." she began, twiddling her thumbs. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, it made it hard for her to come up with actual words to spew. "I...um...I just wanted to..."

"Get on with it, will you?" said the red-haired boy in exasperation. Alex narrowed her eyelids at him. "What? You're the one blabbering on like a lunatic."

"Excuse you!" Alex countered. "I know who you are! You're one of the Weasleys, aren't you? Those freckles are a dead giveaway."

The alleged Weasley went pink in the ears. "So what if I am? What's it to you?"

The Weasleys were one of the few pureblood families left, alongside Alex's own. As such, she was probably related to them distantly, though she personally hadn't met any of them until now.

It wasn't a good first impression.

"Here to call my family poor, are you?" the boy added. "Go on then!"

"I...I would never...!" Alex wasn't sure why she was suddenly cast as the bad guy. "Just...shut up, alright!"

"...What kind of comeback is that?" the red-head wondered.

Alex was the one to turn pink this time. "You're a rude, little boy, aren't you?!"

"Me?!" Her sparring partner looked highly affronted. "You're the bloody maniac coming in here and...!"

"Ron," said Harry Potter softly, speaking for only the second time. He shook his head. "Did you want something? You said you were looking for me?"

So, Harry was going to give her lip too? She placed her hands on her hips and couldn't help but pout.

"I...just wanted to know if you were really him," she said.

"If you're asking if I'm the Harry Potter," said Harry wearily. Alex could tell he was tired of having to say this, "then yes. That's me."

"Oh..."

Oh. Alex wanted to hit herself upside the head. Certainly, she had a better response than that. Her gaze shifted to the floor, and she emptied her throat for no particular reason.

"Can I...erm...see it?"

There was no need for her to clarify. Reluctantly, Harry lifted the hair in front of his forehead enough to reveal a lightning-shaped scar. It was shaped precisely how the books stated. Alex, transfixed, had half a mind to prod it. Harry moved his hand though, and his hair blocked it once more.

"Is that all?" asked Ron testily. "You can go away now. Thanks."

If steam could shoot out of Alex's ears, it would on account of how angry she was.

"N-No one was talking to you, Weasley!" she snapped. "You can go away if you don't have anything kind to say!"

"Don't talk to him that way," Harry snapped.

Alex gasped. "Y-You're taking his side?!"

"He sure is!" voiced Ron proudly. "Go on! Get!"

Trembling in a blind rage, Alex was almost tempted to do just that. However, she still had her pride. She found an empty seat, sat down, and crossed her arms.

"I would like one of those rock cakes, Hagrid," she said, holding her nose high.

"Uh...righ'." Hagrid, utterly bewildered, gave her a particularly lumpy one from the plate. She regretted her request upon taking a bite of it. All her teeth nearly shattered like glass since it was so hard. Hiding her pain, she forced a smile and put the rest in her pocket.

"Don't give her one of those!" said Ron indignantly. "Did you even invite her to tea, Hagrid?"

Before Hagrid could answer, Alex said, "Did he invite you?"

Ron again blushed and became unusually quiet.

"That's enough," said Harry, visibly frustrated. "Just go already. You're disturbing us."

Alex let out an even more dramatic gasp. "I-I refuse! Even if you are Harry Potter, which I'm seriously starting to doubt, by the way..."

"Hey!"

"I'm not going anywhere, and that's that! I desire to be Hagrid's guest for tea as well. We have some catching up to do, after all! Isn't that right, Hagrid?"

Hagrid blinked. "Er...it's..."

"Great!" Alex proclaimed. "Got it? Nobody is going anywhere!"

Harry and Ron stared at her with their mouths wide open.

"She's a total maniac," said Ron, shaking his head. "Just let her do whatever she wants, Harry."

Hagrid's hut became quiet save for the sounds of Fang licking the crumbs off Alex's fingers. She was beside herself with rage. This without a doubt wasn't how she expected her first meeting with Harry Potter to go. He and his annoying friend just about hated her now. Half of her felt like an idiot for losing her temper so easily, while the other craved to trade a few more jabs with Hagrid's guests. What was she even doing? Did she really want to remain somewhere she clearly wasn't wanted? Sighing, she turned her gaze to the copper kettle boiling over Hagrid's fireplace. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it would have to do. She had already talked enough smack. Therefore, she would look like a complete idiot if she just up and left. She had to stand her ground.

"So...er..." Hagrid struggled to come up with something to discuss. "How's yer brother Charlie, Ron? I liked him a lot—great with animals."

While Ron and Hagrid chatted, Alex eyed Harry. He was busy reading a scrap of paper. Curiosity got the better of her.

"What are you reading?" she asked in a casual tone.

Harry's green eyes looked over the newspaper clipping and at her. He said nothing at first, debating on whether he should even bother answering the likes of her.

"A cutting from the Daily Prophet," he finally said.

"What's it about?"

"I haven't finished reading it yet."

"Oh, I see..."

The discussion, if one could even call it that, died right there. Even without Harry going into more detail, Alex could tell something about what he was reading was of extreme interest to him. His eyes got bigger the farther he got down the page.

Just as she was about to again ask him what he was up to, he shouted abruptly, "Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Gringotts break in? That was news to Alex. A flurry of questions raced through her mind. She hadn't had a chance to read the Daily Prophet since arriving at Hogwarts, so she was completely out of the loop on the latest news.

"You're saying someone tried to steal something out of that bank?"

Breaking into a place like Gringotts should have been impossible. It was protected around the clock by goblins and dragons. Unless you had a death wish, Alex couldn't imagine anyone foolish enough to attempt a robbery.

If Hagrid knew what Harry was going on about, he declined to respond. In fact, he seemed to be doing his best to avoid direct eye contact. The realization she had stumbled upon something important washed over Alex gradually.

"Did Hagrid take something out of a Gringotts' vault?"

"I did, but...!"

Hagrid caught himself, but it was too late.

"What was it?" she asked, licking her lips in anticipation. "Is it whatever the person in the paper tried to steal? It must be important if they would go through that much trouble."

"Hey, stay out of this!" said Ron.

Alex paid him no mind. "You said you were there on your birthday, Potter? What did the thing look like?"

"That's enough! What's in that package is between me an' Dumbledore!" shouted Hagrid. He grabbed Harry, Ron, and Alex by the ends of their robes and dragged them to the door. "Yeh can keep them rock cakes! Yer gonna be late fer dinner, so get! Oh, an' I'll send another invitation fer tea soon. Anyway, get!"

He threw them out in the gentlest way possible, slamming the door behind them.

"Look what you did!" Ron yelled at Alex. "We were going to figure out what Hagrid and Dumbledore were up to until you had to go and open your big mouth!"

"What's going on?" Alex asked Harry, pretending Ron wasn't there. "Whatever it is, I want in."

"It's none of your business," said Harry, brushing Alex's hand off his shoulder.

"And it's none of yours if Hagrid is right," replied Alex tepidly. "Take it easy. I won't tell anyone. I just don't like not knowing something this important."

"I think that's what's called being nosy," chimed Ron. "Who are you anyway?"

"Alex Worthington."

"Worthington? Say, isn't your father the nutter who thinks he can make a broom out of teeth?"

Feeling humiliated, Alex chose not to answer.

"Forget her, Ron," said Harry. "Let's go."

"Hey, wait a second, Potter! We're not done here!"

Apparently, they were. Harry and Ron strode across the grassy field and back toward the castle, leaving Alex to wallow in her frustration.

"The nerve!" she grumbled, tapping her foot angrily. "This isn't over! I'll stalk Potter if I have to!"

On second thought, that sounded rather creepy.

"What do you mean you can't show me? It wouldn't be hard for you! You only go there every night!"

"Sorry, but it's against the rules."

"Forget the rules! I talk to find Harry Potter!"

"Rules are very important. Besides, you're from Ravenclaw. You're not supposed to be sneaking into the Gryffindor common room."

"I'm not trying to sneak in there! That's why I'm asking you to take me!"

"It amounts to the same thing."

"God..."

Hermione Granger was a tough nut to crack. Alex, tired and weary from arguing with her, regretted having tracked her down to begin with. Hermione curled her lips, leering at Alex with great disdain.

"Why do you want to see Harry so badly anyway?" she inquired.

"R-Reasons," was the only thing Alex could think to say.

That wasn't enough for Hermione. "Sorry. I won't help you break the rules, and I'd highly advise you not to try and sneak in. Why don't you spend this time studying instead of trying to be somewhere you shouldn't? You know Filch would kill you if he caught you."

Alex bit her bottom lip. If she wanted a lecture, she would have mailed her mother.

"Fine!" she shouted. "And for your information, I don't need to study! I have the best grades in History of Magic out of all the Ravenclaw first years! So...there!"

"That's good for you. Keep up the good work."

Hermione went on her merry way with those words. Stunned, Alex doubted that was meant to be a legitimate compliment. So, she was back to square one. Everyone insisted on giving her the cold shoulder. Irritated, she stomped her way toward Ravenclaw Tower.

"There's just something about that girl," she grumbled. This wasn't the end. Even without Hermione's help, she would find a way to get in touch with Harry Potter. She needed to calm down, sit, and think. Thinking was her specialty. She hoped it was anyway. "I'm going about this the wrong way. I just have to catch Potter when he's out of the common room. So, that should be tomorrow morning at breakfast. Damn. This would have been so much easier if I were only Sorted into..."

In the midst of her planning, Alex took no heed to the person in front of her. It explained why they crashed into one another. Books and her school work went flying all over the place. Alex, meanwhile, was sure one of her bones was broken as she laid flat on her behind.

"That...hurt," she muttered, groaning. "That...was my fault, wasn't it?"

"You're damn straight, Rich Girl."

Alex dared not move. She was a deer in the hunter's sights, seconds away from being gunned down. The boy towering over her was no doubt out for blood.

"If you're blind, don't walk the halls," Tristan Thorne said, gritting his teeth. "Or, are you just used to having a servant telling you where to go?"

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but her voice fled the moment Tristan appeared. She shook like a leaf, realizing Luna Lovegood wasn't there to save her this time.

"The ground must be comfy since you're staying down there," Tristan remarked sarcastically. "Here."

He extended his hand. Alex merely stared at it as if it were the Killing Curse.

"Come on, Rich Girl. I don't have all day."

Meekly nodding, Alex allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Tristan did so with ease, a harrowing reminder that if he wanted to, he could snap her like a twig.

"What are you...?"

Wordlessly, Tristan began collecting her books and papers. Once he gathered them up in a neat pile, he held them out to her.

"Take 'em," he said.

"Uh..."

"This stuff is yours, right? Take it already."

Alex nodded again and did exactly that.

What...is going on?

Just the other day, Tristan Thorne had been ready to beat her to a bloody pulp. Now he was helping her? Alex, raising an eyebrow, seriously didn't understand. Was this some sort of trick to catch her off guard? If so, he had made a big mistake. Wrinkling her nose, she readied herself for anything. Tristan, however, turned around and started to walk away with his hands in his pockets.

"W-Wait a sec!"

Alex hadn't the slightest idea why she called out to him. She lowered her arm and felt the bitter sensation of regret. Tristan stopped but didn't face her.

"...What?" he said in his usual, nasty tone. "You need something else?"

"You'll...probably need help trying to figure out today's riddle. I heard it's a tough one. Why don't I go back to the common room with you?"

"Are you saying I'm stupid? I'm in Ravenclaw too, you know."

Alex winced. "N-No. Nothing like that. It's just..."

She zipped her lips before she got herself into even more trouble. If he was intent on playing the part of the brooding loner, she wasn't going to stand in his way.

"Fine."

"What?"

Tristan, scowling, repeated "I said fine. Lead the way then, Rich Girl. I'm clearly useless without you."

No longer afraid, Alex found herself annoyed all over again. "...Fine."

Tristan shrugged before gesturing for her to go past. "Ladies first."

Alex wasn't ready to call him a gentleman just yet. Taking the lead, she guided them through the twisting hallways of Hogwarts. Getting to class without losing her way was something she hadn't mastered yet, but reaching the common room was a lot easier. She knew to take the right near the one hole in the wall and then a left past the creaky suit of armor. All the while, Tristan Thorne didn't say so much as a word. Alex got suspicious.

What's he up to?

Carefully, she peered at him from over her shoulder. He wasn't doing anything unless one counted having his hands behind his head a crime. His blue eyes met her, prompting her to quickly glance away.

"You look like you want to ask me something," he remarked.

He again read her like a book. "...Why are you being so nice to me today? I thought you hated me."

"When did I say anything like that?"

She felt that an idiotic question. "How about when you nearly killed me last week?"

Tristan gave her no explanation. Would he try to deny it? She had witnesses.

"...Professor Flitwick said...I was out of line," he sheepishly answered a minute later. Alex never imagined he could sound so innocent. "...Maybe I was. A little..."

"No, you were a jerk. Not a little."

"Alright! A lot, okay? You happy?"

"Very much, yes."

His words were made even sweeter by him looking genuinely remorseful.

"Good. Sorry...I-I guess," he added, stuttering like Professor Quirrell.

It wasn't much of an apology, though it was more than Alex ever thought she would hear from the likes of him. It would have to do. She had no clue what spell Professor Flitwick casted to make Tristan's personality do a one-eighty. She would have to learn it herself though.

The two walked for a little while longer. A bit too long in Alex's estimation. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her head.

"Seriously?" she heard Tristan grunt. "You're lost?"

"Of course not!" she said defiantly. "A Worthington doesn't get lost."

"Is that so, Princess? My mistake. Of course the rich and famous wouldn't get lost. You would obviously know better than a commoner like me who's been here three years longer than you and watched you take a wrong, left turn five minutes ago. What was I thinking?"

Why did I bring up my family name again? I'm an idiot...

It was difficult, yet, Alex strove to drown out his incessant griping.

"By the way," Tristan continued, "you should've taken a right back there by the spider webs. That would have made up for missing the left turn earlier."

"...I knew that."

Feeling another hit to her pride, Alex swallowed and retraced her steps.

"Oh? You're actually going to listen to a commoner like me?" said a smirking Tristan. "I am humbled, Princess. I really am. Okay then. Keep straight down here."

"Okay already. Enough."

"What's the matter? Not used to people telling you what to do? As you can see, money won't do you any good here at Hogwarts."

"I get it! I made a wrong turn! Shut up already!"

"Why don't you buy my silence like you do everything else? Turn here."

"..."

"You hear me? Turn here."

"..."

"Oy! Are you listening, Rich Girl? Turn here."

Alex stopped all of a sudden, causing her companion to slam right into her.

"H-Hey!" he shouted. "Didn't I tell you to watch where you're going? You...!"

The distinct sound of crying made him forget what else he wanted to get off of his chest. A misty-eyed Alex turned to him, sniffling.

"Oh no! Don't start doing that!" he said in horror

Without warning, Alex punched him in the chest. Given her skinny arms, the blow did nothing. Tristan remained dumbfounded nonetheless.

"Sorry I was born into wealth!" proclaimed Alex. She hit him again, this time in the shoulder. "I didn't ask to be a Worthington! I don't know what your problem is, but leave me alone forever, you jerk!"

She struck him once more for good measure. She then ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

"H-Hold on a sec, Worthington!" she heard Tristan shout somewhere behind her. "Worthington!"

It was nice to hear him calling her by her name, but it was also too little, too late. Alex reached the bronze knocker, which wasted no time in singing, "I pass the sun yet leave no shadow. What am I?"

"I don't know, okay!" Alex tearfully declared. "Just let me in!"

The door, unsurprisingly, didn't budge. Alex shouted at the top of her lungs and drove her foot into it. Other than making a loud thump that echoed across the hallway, that still didn't do the trick. She was at the end of her wits.

"The wind."

"Rather astute," said the knocker. The door at last swung open. Sniffling, Alex whirled around to see Luna Lovegood smiling at her.

"Hello," she said, humming a tune Alex didn't recognize. "Were you out here long?"

"N-No." Alex made an effort to wipe her face clean though guessed it would hardly matter on account of how red her eyes must have been. "Thanks."

"That was a tough one," said Luna brightly. "By the way, I passed a boy who kept shouting 'Worthington.' I think he was the one from the feast. Do you think perhaps he was talking about you?"

Alex took a long while to reply, "...No. Must be a coincidence. Let's go inside already before we have to answer another riddle, yeah?"

That suited Luna just fine. Humming the same tune from before, she headed in. Alex trailed behind quietly, not bothering to look back as the door shut behind her.

She wasn't sure she ever wanted to go back outside again if it meant encountering Tristan Thorne.