Chapter Fourteen

A Sunny Summer

Alex breathed a sigh of relief as she completed her most dreaded exam: Defence. It was a tad more challenging than last year's, but she had taken into account her slip-ups from the previous set of exams, so it was smooth sailing from now until O.W.L.s in fifth year.

She strolled past groups of students huddled together as they vehemently compared answers. It was amusing, hearing some of the prouder ones confidently announce their incorrect responses. The arguments that ensued were even funnier.

"Fortescue!" called a familiar voice. "Settle an argument, will you?"

Almost unwillingly, Alex paused in her steps and turned back around to where two of her roommates were idling. Agatha watched her keenly, while Katherine remained silent as ever.

"What argument?" Alex asked plainly.

"Question 5A," clarified Agatha. "True or false?"

Alex furrowed her brow. "You honestly expect me to remember what that was?"

Katherine cleared her throat with a light cough. "An acromantula's most vulnerable spot is its belly. True or false?"

She's a machine, thought Alex as she fought to keep her expression neutral. "False," she replied. "While it's true it's a soft spot, it's definitely not the most vulnerable considering how difficult it is to access a giant spider's belly. One of their many eyes would probably be easier to aim for." Especially if you were wandless.

Katherine's lips curled into a small, smug smile as she glanced at Agatha. "Told you."

Huffing, Agatha crossed her arms. "We're headed up one of the towers in preparation for tonight's Astronomy exam," she said, seemingly random. But Alex knew an invitation when she heard one.

Why, though? This was the first time Agatha had spoken more than five words to her since that day on the train over a year ago. Astronomy was their final exam of the year, so why wait until now to utilise her brain and take advantage of her excessive note-taking? It had to be a trap.

"I think I'm going to take a nap, actually," said Alex, feeling ill at lease. "Thanks."

The rejection - a blatantly obvious one, at that - must've stung just a little, because her roommates certainly appeared disgruntled. Alex tried to suppress any niggling doubts or guilt she felt when she say the faces they made, and hurried away from the scene of the crime as discretely as she could.

She sighed for the second time in ten minutes. Now she really needed a power nap.

(She woke up just in time to take her Astronomy exam.)

Naps were nice, Alex decided, but they also had the drawback of screwing up her sleep cycle. Some of her classmates, on the other hand, were thoroughly exhausted, and hastily made their way back to the common room for some much-needed rest. Astronomy was their final exam for the year, so they could finally relax.

But Alex was bored. She couldn't sleep, the library was closed, and no living being aside from the house-elves and owls—and perhaps a few professors—would be awake right now.

The paintings it is, she decided.

She couldn't stop thinking about her grandfather's portrait ever since she had first spotted it in Dumbledore's office. Her own home was devoid of portraits, since her mum was paranoid and suspected they could be used to spy on them. She was probably right. And even if she wasn't, Alex got the feeling that her dad hadn't gotten along with his own father. She wasn't completely certain, but there was definitely a story behind why Dad decided to open up an ice-cream parlour when Dexter Fortescue was headmaster of freaking Hogwarts.

As much as she wanted to speak with her grandfather, she had a feeling Dumbledore wouldn't appreciate her invading his office at this time.

It'd also be discomfiting to stand in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor common room right now just so she could talk to Meredith. It was already suspicious enough regardless of the timing of it all, but the year was coming to a close, and that meant everyone who cared enough about the House Cup were fighting tooth and nail to win enough points to land them in first place. It was likely more than one Gryffindor would accuse her of trying to break into the tower and do Merlin-knew-what.

That left Professor Galing to chat with. Sure, the other paintings tolerated her, and some probably even liked her, but only the portrait of the old History professor seemed to genuinely enjoy speaking with her. She always had the best gossip, too.

That was how Alex discovered Harry and his friends nearly died that very night.

Alex was mad. No, more than that – she was furious. Her fists clenched and unclenched in her lap as she attempted to set fire to Harry's bed through the sheer power of her glare alone. It didn't work.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, so at least her glower did something. "Um, Alex? Are you okay?"

She probably should have asked him that, considering he was the one bedridden in the medical wing. But she was far too irritated to care at the moment. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked instead.

"Tell you what?"

"About the Philosopher's Stone," she snapped. "About how you were all investigating about it, how you suspected Snape, how you all planned to sneak down there and protect it. Why didn't you tell me?" It didn't matter that she knew all that and more; what mattered was the lack of inclusion on their part.

Harry couldn't meet her eyes; instead, he stared at the mountain of get-well-soon gifts on his bedside table. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I honestly thought about it, but we weren't really sure what was happening, and even then it seemed pointless to worry you about Voldemort and the Stone. By the time we figured someone was going to steal it that night, there was no way to contact you. You were in the Hall for dinner, and we didn't know where the Slytherin common rooms were or even how to reach you once we got there."

"I could have helped," she grumbled, crossing her arms. Her voice cracked, allowing some of her concern to seep through. "You shouldn't have faced him alone."

Harry fisted his hands into his sheets. Alex's grip on her fury loosened at the sight. How horrible must it have been to face one of the worst wizards in history all by themselves? At such a young age too. Sighing, she placed her hands over Harry's, loosening them for him.

"If you want to talk," she said softly, "I'm always here."

Harry remained silent, but he nodded to let her know she heard. Madam Pomfrey kicked her out soon after that, but Alex didn't mind. There was nothing left to say between them at the moment.

Alex nodded to Ron and Hermione as she left. They were almost always at Harry's side, comatose or not. They practically ran into the infirmary before the doors could even close again. Envy stabbed into her heart, but she batted it away.

The year was ending, but Alex didn't share everyone else's excitement. She made a point of eating in the Great Hall during the more eventful nights, but there was almost no point. She barely paid attention during the feast on the last day, ignoring both her House's grumbles about the Cup as well as the cheerful chatter of the Gryffindors. Alex had half-expected Dumbledore to make up some last-minute points for the lions, but they were in the lead regardless, so he hadn't bothered. It was a good thing, too, because she was sure the Slytherins by both deducting and rewarding points for the dumbest of reasons.)

Even her exam results couldn't cheer Alex up. They were the same as last year's: decent for every subject save Charms and Defence, which were both exceptionally good. Though Quirrell was a terrible teacher (the less abled the kids were when faced with the Dark Arts, the better) Alex zealously studied the textbook anyway.

"How were your exams?" Cedric asked. They were by the lake instead of the Room. It was the last day of the year, which meant everyone was too busy packing and celebrating to notice if he slipped away for an hour or two.

"They were okay," she said, showing him the slip of paper that displayed her results.

Cedric made an odd choking noise. "These are amazing. You should be prouder of yourself, Alex."

She hummed noncommittally, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "What about you?" she asked. "How'd you go?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Decent. I'm an all-rounder. Defence was especially bad, though. Can't say I'm too surprised Professor Quirrell left."

The official story was that Quirrell had had a one fainting spell too many, and had decided to retire as a result. Only she, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the professors knew the truth.

"I wonder who we'll have next year," she said, genuinely curious. It was a man, she sure of that, but who? Would he be decent? Judging by the shiver that ran down her spine, it was probably a 'no'.

"I hope they're better than Professor Quirrell," confessed Cedric.

She glanced at him. "Even if they're not, we should practise and study together." There was no urge to do so this year, since they were more focused on catching up and chilling instead of tackling their studies. But the wheels of fate had begun to turn. Voldemort's appearance was proof of that.

"Sounds good." He smiled suddenly. "Let's get a head start. You should come over to my place in the summer."

"Really?" she asked, stunned. She smiled for the first time in days. "Thanks, Cedric."

His answering grin was brighter than the sun itself.

She was still thinking about that moment even as they were halfway to Platform 9 ¾. Harry and Ron alternated between exploding snap and chess, while Hermione looked on or read. Alex herself was petting Spitfire, who slumbered obliviously on her lap. She couldn't help but think that her situation right now was vastly different from the last time she had taken the train home.

"What's on your mind, Alex?" Hermione asked as she lowered her book.

"Hm?" She pried her gaze from Spitfire's adorable face to Hermione's curios one. "Oh, you know. The break."

"Do you have anything planned?"

"Surprising my parents by introducing them to Harry." She glanced at the boy in question. "You are coming over, right?"

Smiling, Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course. I want to see what your house really looks like."

"You guys can come over, too," she added to Ron and Hermione, feeling obligated to do so. "It's in a non-magical neighbourhood, though, so you might have some trouble, Ron."

He shrugged. "That's alright. Speaking of which, you all can visit the Burrow as well. I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," Harry said brightly. "I'll need something to look forward to."

The comment meant nothing to Ron, but Alex could spot Hermione's intense gaze as her mind whirled with the unspoken information. She didn't bring it up, fortunately, and they soon arrived at their destination.

A wizened old guard stood by the barrier, separating the gaggle of students into groups of twos and threes in order to minimise the attention drawn from muggles. Ron and Harry went together, followed by herself and Hermione. A sharp squeal was the first thing that drew Alex's attention as she stepped out of the brick column. Her eyes sought out the perpetrator, which turned out to be none other than a young Ginny Weasley. She was adorable, even as she gushed and pointed at Harry with palpable excitement. Her mother scolded her before addressing Harry warmly.

"Busy year?" she asked, smiling.

"Very," agreed Harry. "Thank you for the fudge and sweater, Mrs Weasley."

Mrs Weasley's smile grew at that. "It was nothing, dear."

"Alex!"

Alex grinned. "Dad. Mum."

They hurried toward her, her dad ruffling her hair while her mum patted her face as they reached her. She leaned into their touch gratefully.

"Florean!" Mrs Weasley looked surprised as she stared at Dad. "It's good to see you. How long has it been?"

"Molly," he said, equally delighted. "It's great to see you again! Oh, it's been years, hasn't it? Are your boys as energetic as ever?"

Mrs Weasley cut a look to the twins, who were looking suspiciously cheeky. "I'm afraid so," she sighed. "This must be your wife." They shared greetings and pleasantries, while she and Ron exchanged equally bewildered looks.

"And is this Alexandra?" continued Mrs Weasley. "You've grown so much! I took care of you when you were still just a baby, you know. The twins were so adamant in feeding you some ice cream even though you didn't even have any teeth at the time."

Alex smiled politely at Mrs Weasley, waiting for her to continue her talk with her parents before she turning to the twins. She raised her eyebrows at them, and they looked equal parts stunned and embarrassed. Catching them off-guard was very satisfying.

The adults wrapped up their conversations rather quickly. She assumed it was because Mrs Weasley knew better than to get distracted around the twins for too long.

Harry, meanwhile, was looking around wildly.

"What's up?" she asked.

He frowned, worried. "I can't see the Dursleys anywhere."

"Oh yeah. They're not coming. We're taking you home."

Harry brightened immediately. "Really?"

She smiled. "Yeah. I owled my parents, and they convinced your uncle not to come." Not like it took much effort to do so.

"Thanks!"

She turned to Hermione, who was also looking for her parents, albeit less worriedly. "Do you need a ride too?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, thanks. My parents should be here soon."

Alex took her word for it, but she still stuck around until they arrived. The Weasleys were long gone by then, but neither Harry nor her parents minded. Hermione was obviously relaxed once she realised they weren't going anywhere without seeing her picked up safely.

They set off once Hermione's parents arrived. Harry looked weary, but he still managed to laugh at his parents' reactions once they realised Harry the friend was Harry the Boy-Who-Lived. He stayed over for the night, reacquainting himself with what her house and family were really like. Besides, no one would be eager to return to a family like the Dursleys.

Compared to the last time Harry had visited, her parents were much more relaxed. They didn't have to worry about indirectly breaking the Statute of Secrecy by letting Harry witness something magical. Now he was free to see all their knick-knacks, starting with their collection of magical texts.

He watched, amazed, as the dishes collected and cleaned themselves. "If only I could use magic at home," he said wistfully.

Alex sighed in silent agreement.

The house saw a lot of Harry that summer, though not too much; there were many chores to complete at the Dursley household, after all. In the meanwhile, Alex was put to work at the store. She fell into the routine easily, although one thing remained on her mind the entire time. Cedric's invitation.

Her parents almost collapsed in surprise when she told them about both his and Ron's offer to visit. Her dad was ecstatic, while her mum looked relieved. Alex was mildly offended by their lack of faith in her social skills. She wasn't a total hermit. On the bright side, they eagerly agreed, and Alex found herself counting down the days until it was the appointed date.

"Are you ready?" asked Mum. "Clothes good? Hair good? Gift good?"

"Check, check, and check." Alex took her mum's hand. "Let's go."

Apparating, Alex was sad to learn, was a horrid experience. She landed on her rear while her mum remained standing, looking as if she hadn't been sucked through a magical whirlpool. Gagging, Alex pulled herself up.

"You get used to it," her mum assured her. Frowning, she waved her wand over Alex. She felt rather than saw her appearance grow tidy. "Much better. The Diggorys live down the road, right? Okay, off you go. I have to get back to the office. Love you."

Alex barely finished replying before her mum disappeared. Shrugging it off, she headed down the path, her eyes scanning the grassy plains as she went. Cedric essentially lived in the middle of nowhere, as most wizards and witches tended to do. Alex quite liked it; it was quiet and peaceful, and she felt like she could lose herself in it all rather easily.

She told Cedric as much when he asked her how she felt about his home. Like her house, his was one-storey, but still spacious enough for him and his parents to feel comfortable. She was surprised at how homely it was, wrongfully having assumed it would be pristine and cool, like hers was. It was pleasantly warm.

Cedric's smile grew with each word that came out of her mouth. She smiled back.

"Are your parents home?" She had to greet them; it would be rude otherwise.

"Dad's off to the shops for something or the other. Mum should be in the living room, though." Cedric led her further into the house, and Alex couldn't help but glance at the family portraits donning the wall. A lot of them were of Cedric, from when he was a baby up until his first year at Hogwarts. Alex smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.

Observant as ever, Cedric picked up on it. He paused in his steps. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding extremely concerned.

Alex tried not to laugh at his misplaced worry. "Nothing."

"That's not true," he protested. "You're smiling, but it's not reaching your eyes." He pursed his lips, as if weighing the pros and cons of his next statement. "You do that a lot."

Alex focused her gaze on a picture of baby Cedric. Giggling, he lifted his chubby hand to wave at her. "I'm envious," she admitted. "Your parents have taken a lot of photos of you. Mine aren't fond of pictures." Some superstition about it stealing part of your soul – which, considering the eerie way the photos moved in this world, not to mention the entire concept of magical portraits, was a rather reasonable suspicion to have.

"You don't have any of yourself when you were young?" he asked, frowning.

She shook her head. "Only a few." Apparently her soul was worth risking if it meant immortalising the images of herself as an infant.

Cedric thought for a moment before snapping his fingers in an 'a-ha!' sort of gesture. "Be right back." He ran out the hallway, leaving Alex to stand around awkwardly for a few seconds before he returned, panting lightly. "Smile," he said suddenly.

Surprised, Alex simply stared as Cedric clicked his camera. Bright spots danced in her eyes as the flash seared her corneas. "The hell?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Cedric inspected the photo, his lips twitched upwards in an amused smile. "Not exactly what I was hoping for," he laughed, showing her the picture.

Alex's eye twitched as she inspected it. Her own gaping face blinked at her from the photo. "A little warning would've been nice," she grumbled, but there was no heat in it.

Cedric grinned, and that was all the warning she was going to get. He began clicking furiously, barely giving her enough time to pose appropriately. Her gestures grew more ridiculous the more he encouraged her to act weirder and weirder. He was beside himself with laughter in the end, so she used his momentary distraction to grab the camera and snap a picture of them both. The act surprised him enough to end the chortles.

"This is my favourite," she declared. Cedric was laughing uproariously, and her own smile was carefree and happier than she had ever seen it as she glanced at the boy beside her. "Mind if I keep it?"

"We'll ask my mum to make a copy first."

"Make a copy of what?"

Flinching, Alex turned around. Mrs Diggory approached them from the end of the corridor, a pleasant smile on her lips. Her blonde hair reminded Alex of sunshine, which matched the warm aura she was emitting.

"Of this," replied Cedric, handing over the photo.

"Oh, what a lovely photo," she said appreciatively, nodding at it before tucking it into the pocket of her robes.

"You must be Alex," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Cedric's mother. Feel free to call me Mrs Diggory."

Alex shook her hand, making sure to keep her grip firm but not harsh. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs Diggory." She almost sighed in relief. Calling parents and adults by their first name was a big no-no in her culture, so she couldn't have been more grateful that Mrs Diggory chose the alternative.

"Cedric's told me so much about you," she informed her, her smile growing sly.

Cedric laughed loudly and awkwardly. "Thanks, Mum," he intervened. "Is lunch ready? I'm sure Alex is starving."

"Uh, yeah," Alex said. "Lunch would be nice." What did Cedric say about her? She worried her lip, her mind racing as she recalled all the mortifying crap Cedric had witnessed her do or say. A glance at Cedric told her she wasn't going to receive any answers soon.

"There are some sandwiches on the table," Mrs Diggory told them. "I'll be in the study. Have fun, kids."

Cedric practically ran to the kitchen, forcing Alex to hurry after him. Mrs Diggory shot her a wink before she left, though, which made her relax, strangely enough.

After lunch, they went for a walk, as per her request. Alex breathed in the warm summer air greedily, enjoying the feel of sunshine on her bare arms. It was finally t-shirt season, and she planned on capitalising on it completely. They steered clear of the woods, just in case.

"D'you have any pets?" she asked, running her hands through the wheat field they were strolling through. Maybe they would find a snake.

Cedric shook his head. "Dad's allergic. We have an owl, but all he does is deliver the mail. Won't let us touch him otherwise."

Alex perked up, interested. "Can I see him?"

Cedric laughed. He laughed more in one day than she did in a month. "Sure," he said easily. "Race you back?"

She smirked. "Okay." Without another word, she sped off, Cedric's accusatory "Cheater!" faint in her ears.

Still, her early mark didn't count for much. Cedric was, unfortunately, an athlete, and his quidditch practises could be quite physically strenuous. It was an easy win for him.

"I wasn't cheating," she said, in between pants. "I was just getting a head start. Handicap, you know?"

He shook his head, grinning. "Sneaky Slytherin."

She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

The Diggorys' owl was named Hermes, cheesily enough. He lived on the balcony, where he had his own elaborate perch and food dispenser. Alex made sure to exude a relaxed aura as she smiled and held her hand out to Hermes. He regarded her stonily, but made no move to attack or retreat. Emboldened, she grabbed a treat from the dispenser and offered it to him. He snapped it up before she could blink. After a bit more coaxing and several more treats, he allowed her to stroke him. Cedric very nearly fainted in shock.

"You're an owl-whisperer," he said, dazed.

Talk about déjà vu. Alex rolled her eyes at Cedric's dramatics, even as she quickly retreated from Hermes. He twitched warningly, letting her know that that was enough for the day. Smiling slightly, she bid the bird farewell before stepping back into the house.

"What next?" she asked, crossing her arms triumphantly.

"Next," he said gravely, "is world domination. You and your owl army will be unstoppable."

Alex faked a yawn. "Tell me something I don't know."

Snorting, Cedric headed to one of the rooms that had its door wide open. "We finish the tour with my room."

Alex had thought she already knew what Cedric's room looked like – they spent a lot of time in the Room of Requirement, after all. She was right—it was mostly the same—but his real one was more personal. A poster of the Falmouth Falcons adorned one of his walls, its occupants zooming in and out. The walls were painted a warm blue, like the sky, while the sheets of Cedric's bed were a plain white. Other than the Hufflepuff poster on the hook by his door, there wasn't a speck of yellow in his room. It was oddly cheering.

Cedric picked up the book on his dark desk. "I'm almost done," he said, flipping through the Grimm brothers' famous collection of fairy tales. "It's really good."

Alex smiled. "Glad you like it."

"Did you finish the one I gave you?" he asked, referring to Hazel Petal and the Ruffian's Rally. An interesting name, to say the least.

"Yeah. It was amazing. When's the next one coming out?"

Cedric smirked. "Why, next Christmas, of course."

Typical.

"Ced!" a deep voice called. "Gen! I'm back!"

"It's my dad," explained Cedric. "Let's go say hi."

"Sure."

"Dad!" called Cedric as they descended the stairs. "My friend Alex is over."

Mr Diggory glanced up, by he didn't seem as pleased as his wife had. "Ah, yes. Miss Fortescue, right?"

"Yes," she replied warily. She made no move to make any pleasantries. For some reason, she got the feeling that Mr Diggory would sooner bite her hand off than shake it. She looked to Cedric, whose face was resigned but unsurprised.

Mr Diggory bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, drawing himself up self-importantly. "Ced here tells me you were sorted into Slytherin."

Ah. There was the crux of the issue. On the inside, a very loud voice was demanding why in the hell a grown man like Mr Diggory even cared about school Houses anymore. On the outside, though, all she said was, "Yes. I'm a Slytherin." And, just to rub it in, she added, "A proud one, too."

Beside her, Cedric snorted. Mr Diggory was turning a painful red colour as he spluttered. "Alex and I are going to play exploding snap now," he told his father, turning away from the railing and back to his room.

"It was nice meeting you," she said dully, following him.

When they were back in the room, Cedric sighed and turned to her. "I'm sorry about my dad. My mum told me was bullied a lot when he was in school."

"Let me guess. It was Slytherins who bullied him."

"Yeah." Poor Cedric looked so disappointed in his father.

Alex shrugged. "Don't worry, Ced. I'm used to it."

Cedric's irritation at her blasé attitude screeched to a stop as he acknowledged the nickname. "Did… Did you just call me Ced?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Am I not allowed to?" she teased, smirking.

Cedric shook his head. "'Course you are, Alex."

"Good. Now, where are your cards? I wanna see what you're like without your eyebrows."