iv. The First Warning


Albus had been initially mystified as to why exactly the formerly un-threatening Alexandra Kindle suddenly hated everything to do with him. It didn't take him long to figure it out, though, and the answer happened to be that of Rose Weasley.

"She wouldn't put her stupid wand-light out for three nights in a row, so, being a normal person, after three days of losing sleeps I snapped," Rose explained of herself when cornered in the halls as she and Scorpius were leaving their own History Of Magic lesson, not at all apologetic of possibly being the cause of Alexandra's hatred of Albus. "She's lucky it wasn't her neck that snapped."

Scorpius looked at her with pure incredulity on his face, "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"That still doesn't explain why she hates me aswell. I mean, what did I do?" Albus said, feeling only slightly attacked that Alexandra was taking her anger harboured at Rose and channeling it at him.

Rose rolled her eyes and cocked an eyebrow at this, "Oh no, someone doesn't like Albus Potter! Quick! Call the fire brigade!" she mocked. "Look, sometimes people just don't like you. Deal with it."

"No," he huffed, "I will not 'deal with it'. Don't all of a sudden act like you're so wise."

"I'm older, so, I'm wiser," she readjusts her blue and bronze tie as if to emphasise that fact, "Respect your elders."

"Your logic is stupid." Albus deadpans on the subject. Rose shrugs off his attempt at an offensive retort, before heading with Scorpius to her Muggle Studies class.

Albus huffs at the lack of information he got from this confrontation, and checks his timetable for his final subject of the day: Potions.

The Potter boy had already decided that Potions was his favourite class, which wasn't to say his other classes weren't interesting, just that Potions seemed to be his strong suit, even with the rather grumpy Professor.

The Potions Master was one Professor Maxwell Parke, a young, bearded man whom, in Albus' minor amount of time at Hogwarts, had only worn muggle clothing plus a black cape-like robe over his shoulders. He seemed to give off the impression that he had a great distain for the subject, and yet, still, he taught exuberant amounts of information per lesson.

Albus seemed to be the only one appreciative of Parke, though. Many of the students were already showing signs of feeling over-worked, and had a gleam of panic in their eye whenever Parke so much as breathed. Even Scorpius and Rose, whom had both shown great skill in every other subject before, struggled immensely.

With all this decided anger harboured towards Parke, you would think that they had been studying Potions for a great length of time, however, this was only the second lesson.

Within the class, Al sat with Jasper Jones to his left, a Hufflepuff boy whose colouring couldn't seem to make up its mind, making him quite unsettling to look at. The boy was deeply tanned, with deep brown abyss-like eyes, dirty blond hair and a constant broad grin that exposed his teeth quite magnificently.

To Albus' right, was Jono. So far, Albus noticed that Jonathan hadn't demonstrated any kind of favourable talent within the wizarding community, but in spite of this, Albus tried to encourage him to keep trying. The Potter boy made a mental note to take Jono to meet Neville Longbottom more personally, as Neville was infamous in school for being, to put it lightly, 'a bumbling idiot', but despite this preceding reputation of his, Neville was also partly responsibly for Lord Voldemort's returned mortality.

Luckily for Jono, Parke wasn't quite as brutal as Severus Snape had been known to be towards some of the less inclined students.

It was with this hushed thought at the back of Albus' mind that there was a sudden, echoing scream. It vibrated around the room due to the dungeon's enhanced acoustics. Parke suddenly bursts into action, his care-free attitude cast aside. "You're all excused."

Each of the combined Hufflepuff and Slytherin first-years are bewildered as to who it was that screamed. Parke is the first to vacate the room, shrugging off the students with a "Please return to your common rooms."

No one listens, instead rushing up the stairs behind the Potions Master in search of who it was that screamed. At the top of the staircase, Albus' class combines with Scorpius and Rose's class. "Who screamed?" Al asks of them, in hopes they would know.
"So, you're speaking to me again?" Rose lifts her right eyebrow at Albus' sudden coolness.
Scorpius hisses over their quarrel, "Now is /not/ the time."

A sea of black robes rush through the hallways, all are both simultaneously curious and frightened. It is on the third floor that what looks to be every student in the school congregates, the whole school in a circle around the pasty white body of a curvy girl. Albus knows he has seen her before, but he can't quite put his finger on who she is or where he's seen her from.

In that moment, the crowd parts, allowing the passing through of Professor Sprout. By her side, is an also familiar student, this one is a boy—more of a man—with flowing auburn hair and a beard to match.

Jono to Al's right nudges him, as the shorter boy has recognised the two students too. However, unlike Albus, Jono is able to identify him.

"Al—look, it's—"

He isn't able to share what he knows, as the information he was about to give is supplied by the red-haired boy's loud whimper.

"Alli?" the boy spits out in disbelief, "Allison?"
Sprout attempts to soothe him, "Mister Carlyle—Brody—it's alright—"

Her attempts are to no avail. Brody collapses to the ground beside Allison, and Albus catches the glint of the pair's badges, badges Albus is sure that, if he were to look closer, would have the Slytherin emblem on them.

"The Slytherin Prefects..." Albus manages to breathe out. Whether in shock or disbelief, he isn't too sure. After all, Albus, and all the other Slytherins, had seen her just the other day, presenting the first years with the rules. She and Brody had seemed so happy, and overly-playful then, and here Albus sees the pair, the girl of the two seemingly passed out on the cold floor, and the male crying over it.

Professor Sprout brushes away a tear that threatens to leave her eye, turning to each of the students. With a final gasp of courage to speak, Sprout pronounced a message for all the hear.

"Everyone, return to your dormitories, with the exclusion of Mister Carlyle. Do not make any detours; do not wander the halls. Mark my words, whoever did this will be punished, severely!"

Brody whimpers once again, this time with less audio.

"Scary stuff," speaks Christian Cane of the incident when Jono and Albus enter the first-year boy's dorm. The two extra beds that had been there earlier had since been removed, to have been replaced with a dark green sofa instead.

"Yeah," agrees Jono, "It's..."
"...strange," Albus interjects into the conversation, "Don't you think it's strange that someone just randomly screams, then passes out?"

Cane groans, "Oh my god, I've been roomed with 'Harry Potter, 2.0. With new and improved eyesight'." The last comment nodding to Albus' lack of glasses as compared to his father is spoken, almost mockingly, in what seems to be an American television show host's voice.

"—very funny," Al deadpans, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm just curious."
"Oh, dear lord," Cane mutters under his breath, but not quiet enough for Albus not to hear—perhaps this is intentional—and then proceeds to slump, face first, into his pillow.

Jono shrugs, which seems to be a commodity for the shorter dark-haired boy. "Well, it's strange. Guess we'll find out what's going on later. Until then, I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when it's dinner." He passes his body underneath the sheets.

"Yeah, sure," breathes Albus. He leaves his two roommates alone, Cane still breathing in the bedsheets and Jono, somehow, already asleep. He makes way for the common room, where sits only a few students: the two remaining Slytherin Prefects—the ones that were in fifth year; a group of four boys playing Wizard's Chess, and a blonde girl curled up to a book. Al wonders if he'd be able to sneak past without detection, but just as the thought manages to cross his mind, the blonde girl stands, and shoots almost like a bullet to stop Albus.

"It's Potter, isn't it?" she's obviously Scottish, "You better not be thinking of sneaking out."

Albus frowns at the insinuation despite it's truth, "What? I mean... I wasn't... I'd never... what?" the young Potter's voice raises even higher than its usual pitch, proving his lie. No one in the common room seems to notice.

"Potter, you're an awful liar," the girl informs Albus of something that he already knew, "I'm Sylvia Michaels."

Albus expects her to hold out a hand for him to shake, or perhaps for her to even continue the conversation further. What she does, instead, is push past him to reach the staircase to the girls' dormitory.

The clock chimes five-thirty pm, making the students aware that it was time for them to be heading down to dinner. Many of the lower year students don't hesitate to rush down due to their hunger, but many of the older students, particularly the sixth years that knew—still did know?— Allison best were in too much shock to emerge from their dorms. Al waits several moments to double-check to see if Jono and Cane do emerge from their dormitory. When they do, Jono extremely disgruntled by this, Albus waits for the shorter boy to keep up with him, and then they both leave for the Great Hall together.

Unlike the first day, dinner was nor nearly as extravagant. However, that wasn't to say it wasn't good, or that it was in any way lesser. The food tasted good as always—though it couldn't be enjoyed due to everyone's anxiety as to Allison Moon's state of wellbeing.

It was only half way through the silent meal that Sprout noticed this, despite the expectation that this would be obvious. The headmistress stood at her podium, the entire hall awaiting her words.

"The sixth-year Slytherin Prefect named Allison Moon that had been apparently harmed earlier this evening is currently being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. I urge all of you not to make a spectacle of her—she's been through enough of an ordeal without people treating her like, to put it lightly, a '/freak/'." Sprout inhales, the lids of her eyes pressed tightly to her eyeballs as she composes herself, "We are trying to find who is responsible, and be warned: we /will/ stop it."

This proclamation echoed across the walls, giving her words an effect of determination. Albus couldn't see why any of the students here would want to harm someone so harmless and sweet as Allison, it just didn't make sense.

Everyone else within the hall seemed to be thinking the same. In all this, there was absolutely one thing for sure: there was something odd going on at Hogwarts, and Al didn't think it would stop with Allison Moon.