Chapter Fifty-Three
Centaurs and Giants
Now that Alex was Umbridge's lackey—ostensibly, at least—her freedom was greatly limited. Even if she removed her I.S. badge and thus Tracking Charm she was positive was on it, that didn't mean she was in the clear. Umbridge probably had eyes and ears everywhere by now, so attending D.A. meetings and even Occlumency get-togethers were out of the question. Really, the only thing she could do besides attend class and dine at the Great Hall was visit Hagrid every now and then.
Like her, he was rather busy with his own affairs. Half the time she went down to the grounds to see him he wasn't there, and neither was Fang, to her immense disappointment. When she did manage to sit down and have tea with him, he appeared battered and beaten.
"Is someone hurting you?" she asked when the parts of his face not blocked out by his shaggy hair and beard was decorated instead with bruises.
Knowing there was no point in beating around the push, Hagrid said, "No, 'course not. This is nothin' serious."
"You sure? I could help you, if you need me to."
Hagrid hesitated as he considered her offer. "Okay," he said after a while. "Okay. Only if yeh promise not to tell anyone else."
Despite herself, Alex's eyes lit up. A secret. "Of course," she assured him.
"Finish yer tea first," he reminded her.
Alex immediately downed the rest of her beverage in one go, much to Hagrid's amusement. He put out the fire and leashed Fang while Alex Disillusioned herself, as she had on the way over. No doubt if Umbridge saw her entering Hagrid's house she'd use it as an excuse to lob accusations of inappropriate teacher-student conduct or some other tosh to kick Hagrid out the way she did with Trelawney.
Once they were well into the Forbidden Forest, Alex cancelled her charm and held her hand out for Fang's leash. The second she grabbed it he flipped out and looped around her in excitement, tangling her in the lead and sending her crashing to the ground, which he then capitalised on by enthusiastically licking her face.
"Maybe I don't want a dog," she mused as she pushed his slobbery snout from her.
Hagrid picked her up like a ragdoll and set her back on her feet, taking his pet's lead from her at the same time. "C'mon," he said, "only a bit more to go."
The trees at the centre of the forest were far older than those fringing the edges. They towered over her to the point where she couldn't even see their individual branches, the dark bark drowning out most of the sunlight. To prevent them from stumbling in the dark, Alex lit a lumos, casting them in an eerie glow.
I wonder if Luna has ever been this far into the forest. Alex knew the air-headed Ravenclaw liked to visit the threstral herd, but they generally stayed close to the outskirts unless they were really hungry.
"Is it true there are acromantula in here?" Alex asked in a small voice as something skittered over the thick roots not five metres to their left.
"Oh, there are plenty, last time I checked," Hagrid replied with a cheerfulness that felt downright inappropriate.
"Great," she muttered.
"Don't worry. Most of the creatures livin' here won't attack if they see me. Well, except the centaurs."
Alex frowned. "Firenze is nice."
"Firenze is a grand bloke," Hagrid assured her in a booming voice that made her flinch. "His herd, on the other hand… Well, let's just say they were the reason I was bedridden for a week."
"Wait, what?" Alex blinked owlishly up at her friend, and then swore as her momentary distraction caused her to walk into a bush. "They fought you? Why?"
"Well, I had ter," he said, sounding mildly surprised, "otherwise they woulda beaten Firenze ter death."
"Yeah, I'm gonna need a little more info than that."
"They're angry he decided to work fer Dumbledore, said it went agains' their way of life." Hagrid huffed. "I guess murder of one of their own is okay in their books."
"Well, if they thought he betrayed them, then technically he isn't one of theirs," reasoned Alex. "Why would Firenze work with a bunch of smelly humans if it meant being outcasted?" She'd never make that choice if she was in his hooves; the sheer discrimination he faced from the students alone was enough to send Alex for the hills. Just last week she'd heard a Gryffindor refer to him as a horse and another even had the gall to ask him if Hagrid had bred him! The worst thing was that they weren't even being malicious but genuine. God, she hated that House.
"Most centaurs believe the forest to be separate from the school," said Hagrid as wove around a fallen log. There was some weird sap oozing at the top, one Alex wasn't sure was natural. "Others like Firenze think the gap should be bridged."
Alex rolled her eyes. As much as she wanted to align herself with Firenze and his optimism, the fact of the matter was that humans couldn't even get along with one another, let alone other species.
After several more minutes of walking, by which time Alex stopped flinching at every snap of a twig nearby, Hagrid stopped them. "So, yeh know how it took me two weeks to get back from meetin' wit' the giants earlier on in the year?" When she nodded mechanically, he continued, "That's 'cause I met my half-brother. Turns out me mother took up with another giant when she left me dad, and she went and had Grawp here—"
"Grawp?" Here? Alex peered around Hagrid as though a giant would pop up from behind the mossy boulder and say, Surprise!
"He didn't want to come at first, but I couldn't've left him there with the others!" he explained, panicking in the face of her wide-eyed horror. "They were bullyin' him 'cause he's so small."
"When you say small…"
Hagrid nodded at the boulder which wasn't a natural formation so much as the head of a literal giant. Grawp's ear alone was the same size as Alex. He was wearing a smock composed of different kinds on animal skins, and Alex wasn't sure if that was the work of Hagrid or the other giants back wherever Grawp had come from.
"Do you feed him or does he hunt?" Alex couldn't help but wonder.
"He can get his own food, no problem. Birds and deer and stuff. It's company he needs," Hagrid replied emphatically.
Alex shot him a wry look. "You mean me."
"Or Harry and Ron and Hermione. Somethin' tells me they'd be, uh, less welcome to the idea."
And the consequences won't be as dire if Grawp accidentally tramples me instead of Harry. Alex shook that morbid thought away, but then she noticed the ropes piled by Grawp's feet. "Any particular reason you have him tied to a tree?" she fairly squawked. Fang yelped supportively from between her and Hagrid.
"He jus' doesn't know his strength is all," he insisted. "Once he sees humans aren't all bad, he'll love it here. Look, I'll show yeh how harmless he is."
Before Alex could even protest, Hagrid woke his half-brother up with a rousing cry that was half-English and half-whatever-language-Grawp spoke. A flock of birds fled in terror as the forest groaned with Grawp's awakening. Trees creaked ominously and the very earth itself seemed to tremor as Grawp loudly pushed himself off the ground and into a sitting position.
At the sight of Hagrid, Grawp roared and pointed first to his stomach and then to his mouth.
"That means he's hungry," Hagrid informed her when her ears ceased ringing.
Don't giants eat people…? Alex took a furtive step back, for all the good that it did. With a whimper, Fang did the same.
"I got no food for yeh, Grawpy!" Hagrid called up to the towering figure. "I've brought a friend ter meet yeh. Remember, I told yeh I might? Remember that, Grawpy?"
Grawp merely gave another low roar; it was hard to say whether he was listening to Hagrid or whether he even recognized the sounds being emitted as speech. He was now seizing the top of the pine tree and was pulling it toward him, evidently for the simple pleasure of seeing how far it would spring back when let go.
"Now, Grawpy, don' do that!" shouted Hagrid. "Tha's how you ended up pullin' up the others—!"
"That explains the fallen trees," Alex muttered to herself, surveying the immediate area. Hagrid was likely to face another beating from the centaurs if his family continued to devastate the forest.
"I got company fer yeh!" Hagrid shouted, still not giving up. "Company, see! Look down, yeh big buffoon, I brought yeh a friend!"
Grawp let go of the top of the pine tree, providing them with a rain of needles, and peered down.
Alex swallowed audibly as the giant lowered his huge boulder of a head so that he could blink blearily at them.
"This," said Hagrid at a slightly lower volume, "is Alex. She'll come 'ere ter talk ter yeh when I can't."
Alex glanced at Hagrid from the corner of her eye, the rest of her attention focused on his half-brother. As such, she noticed Grawp shooting a hand out to her with surprising speed, and managed to duck behind Hagrid just in time.
"Bad boy, Grawpy!" yelled Hagrid, red in the face. "Very bad boy!"
Grawp responded with a lazy swipe towards the half-giant. He didn't actually manage to hit Hagrid, but it was close.
Alex knelt down to Fang's height so she could embrace the nervous dog. "I don't think I'll be coming back to this part of the forest any time soon," she confessed.
Hagrid sighed. "I don't blame yeh. C'mon, let's get outta 'ere."
Their journey back was interrupted by a centaur who cut off their path, a bow slung across his back and a leather satchel of arrows tied to his waist right above his chestnut, horse-like half. This centaur had a proud, high-cheekboned face and long black hair. He was a good deal older than Firenze, and much sterner too.
"I thought that we told you, Hagrid," he said, voice grave, "that you are no longer welcome here?"
"How are yeh, Magorian?" Hagrid asked warily, his eyes darting to the sides.
Sure enough, Magorian wasn't here alone. The trees behind him rustled as four or five centaurs entered the clearing, forming a loose circle around them.
Trapped on all sides, Alex thought, her pulse quickening.
The centaur who looked closest to Magorian's age stepped forward to address them. He was bearded, with a coat as black as the long hair cascading down his back.
"So," he spat, glaring down at Hagrid, "we agreed, I think, what we would do if this human showed his face in the forest again?"
"'This human' now, am I?" echoed Hagrid, scowling. "Jus' fer stoppin' all of yeh committin' murder?"
"You ought not to have meddled, Hagrid," countered Magorian. "Our ways are not yours, nor are our laws. Firenze has betrayed and dishonoured us."
"Firenze has entered into servitude to humans," declared a grey centaur with a hard, deeply lined face.
"Servitude!" Hagrid said scathingly. "He's doin' Dumbledore a favour is all—"
"He is peddling our knowledge and secrets among humans," Magorian said quietly. Something about his even disposition was downright hypnotic. "There can be no return from such disgrace."
"As are you, human," said Bane, by far the most agitated of the centaurs, "coming back into our forest when we warned you—"
"Now, yeh listen ter me," interjected Hagrid angrily. "I'll have less of the 'our' forest, if it's all the same ter yeh. It's not up ter yeh who comes and goes in 'ere—"
"No more is it up to you, Hagrid," Magorian reminded him. And he was right; the forest belonged to none. It was obvious even to those without the ability to see past the physical that the forest was alive and a magical being in its own right.
Like the Hogwarts castle itself, the Forbidden Forest almost radiated pure magic. Whereas the stone structure's source was the generations of witches and wizards and elves that had lived there, the forest's magic was natural and self-generated. That was probably why magical creatures like thestrals and centaurs were so drawn to it in the first place.
Magorian and Bane were arguing back-and-forth over whether they should let Hagrid walk free due to the presence of his young child. Alex's gaze was drawn to Fang—who was quivering behind his owner—before she realised they were talking about her. Though they were aware she wasn't Hagrid's blood, being his student qualified her as his, and besides, the 'slaughter of foals' was a terrible crime in the eyes of the centaurs.
"We do not touch the innocent," concluded Magorian. "Today, Hagrid, you pass. Henceforth, stay away from this place. You forfeited the friendship of the centaurs when you helped the traitor Firenze escape us."
"I won't be kept outta the forest by a bunch of mules like yeh!" snapped Hagrid, his fists trembling.
"Hagrid," Alex hissed, taken aback by his outburst and ashamed by his choice of words. It was no wonder he was Sorted into Gryffindor all those decades ago. "Let's just go already."
Reluctantly he agreed. He tugged roughly at Fang's leash, but the dog needed no incentive to leave; he all but ran out of the clearing and away from the centaurs, who were pawing agitatedly at the ground after Hagrid's comment.
When Alex reached the edge of the clearing, she turned to speak with the centaurs. "I apologise for his behaviour," she said, her voice even and her expression closed off. She had a feeling even a shred of sympathy for such proud creatures wouldn't bode well for either of them. "And about Firenze – he isn't sharing your secrets to us humans. He's teaching of the ways with which centaurs divine fate, but since none of us are actually gifted with the sight, we aren't able to replicate his results." Alex would know, having snuck into the sixth-year Divination class last week.
Bane stepped forward, looming over her with the immensity of his height. "And yet he is still providing freely information that is solely ours."
"It still is yours," she argued back. "And he's telling us nothing we can't find in a book somewhere. Besides, he's doing a lot to improve the image of centaurs. My kind are disgustingly ill-informed when it comes to yours. He deserves praise for all the prejudice being thrown onto him."
"He knew of the consequences of his actions well before he reached his decision," sniffed Bane, his tail twitching. "He must reap what he sowed."
"I know. But I believe he deserves some credit for the difficult choice he's made."
The centaurs appeared speculative.
"Alex!" called back Hagrid. "Yeh comin'?"
"Yep!" she yelled back.
"Wait," said Magorian. "For your insight, we offer you a warning: Uranus shines favourably upon you, but so does Pluto. Beware your fate."
Even without speaking to any of her fifth-year friends, it was clear to Alex—as well as anyone paying the least attention—that O.W.L.s were in full force. The panic in the air was almost infectious, and Alex found herself applying herself to her studies with a fervour that had been relatively dull the past year.
It was a shame, then, that there was no decent place to study. Like she'd been forced to do during her own O.W.L. year, students took to circling the library at least thrice before landing a seat, and more than once a week a fight broke out over an empty one. It was like the world's dumbest game of musical chairs. In the end, things became so extreme that Pince was forced to establish a queueing system. Alex took one look at the list and thought, Nope.
Her next plan of action was to use one of the many abandoned classrooms in the castle. It was what she had done last year, but what with Umbridge in charge, that option was a dud as well. Rumour had it that the toad was so paranoid about a potential coup de tat (she was getting awfully close to sniffing out the D.A.) that she had her Inquisitorial Squad constantly patrolling the hallways, both day and night. The fifth-year squad members weren't exempt from this, either.
Alex made a face at Draco as he rudely ushered her back the way she came. "Draco," she said slowly, barely moving an inch despite his efforts, "aren't your O.W.L.s coming up? Shouldn't you—I dunno—be studying?"
Draco stopped in his tragic attempt to huff at her, hands on his hips. "Unlike you plebeians, purebloods don't need to apply themselves so strenuously; our natural talent more than makes up for effort."
"Ah," she said blandly. "Is that why our House has one of the lowest averages in terms of marks and grades?"
He scowled tremendously at that. "Maybe if you blood traitors and half-bloods alike stopped infiltrating our House, we'd be the best of the best!"
"You're right." Alex kept her gaze steady even as her blood boiled. "Without people like me, I suppose you, Crabbe and Goyle could restore Slytherin to its former glory?"
Despite the flush colouring his pale face, Draco doubled down on his bigotry and stuck his pointed nose up in the air. "That's right," he said, sneering.
Alex's dominant hand curled into a fist before she could lose herself to the magic roaring within and instinctively withdraw her wand. The last thing she wanted was a duel in the middle of the day right when anyone could walk in on them. So she threw her weight forward, her fist outstretched, punching not Draco's face but the wall behind him. This close, she could see his flinch come and go; the sight brought a smile to her face.
"Do you actually believe what you're spouting?" she asked softly, searching his expression.
Draco's face tightened even as doubt flickered through his grey eyes. His silence was all the confirmation she needed. For a long time now Alex had had a feeling that Draco's loud ignorance was both over-the-top and artificial. No one raised by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy could be that prattish without even realising it. It had to be for show.
"Word of advice," she said, pushing herself off the wall. Draco's shoulders slumped as she distanced herself from him. "It's okay to drop the act sometimes."
Not wanting to put him on the spot, Alex left Draco to stew in the hallway, his brow furrowed as he struggled to think of a response. She turned the corner and walked past a moving tapestry depicting an epic battle between Merlin and Morgana before returning to it moments later. Sensing a presence behind the cloth, Alex made a move to pry it open.
The person hiding beat her to it. Ginny threw the tapestry open, appearing mildly surprised to see Alex right in front of her. "Hey," she said casually.
"What's up?" replied Alex, making room for Ginny to step out of the hidden alcove.
"It's a shortcut," Ginny explained as she hopped down. "I was running away from Fred and George – they insist on giving me tips for the next match."
"Oh, right," Alex murmured, brow furrowed as she vaguely recalled that little episode. "Congrats on reaching the finals."
"Thanks. Hey – what're you up to now?"
Alex's left hand twitched. "Nothing, really. I was thinking of taking a nap."
"Post-lunch drowsiness, huh?" Ginny said sympathetically.
Alex pressed a hand over her heart. "You're the only one who truly gets me."
Nodding sagely, Ginny offered Alex her arm; she took it. Arm in arm, they wandered the halls, chatting about inconsequential things. Ginny was having relationship issues with her boyfriend, Michael Corner.
"He has some weirdly outdated ideas on how to treat women," complained Ginny, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "It took him literal months to cast a spell on me during the D.A. meetings, and yet he's an incredible sulker whenever I beat him in any game we play. It's insufferable, really."
"Then dump him," said Alex with a shrug.
Ginny snorted. "If only it were that easy."
Isn't it? Alex arched an eyebrow but didn't force the issue. When it came down to it, this was Ginny's business, not hers.
The next corner they rounded led to a crowded hallway wherein a pair of sixth-years were trying to scam a handful of daft underclassmen into buying good luck charms and/or brain boosters that would aid them during their upcoming exams.
"I swear," said Ravenclaw's Eddie Carmichael, "this bottle of Baruffio's Brain Elixir was the only reason I received nine Outstanding O.W.L.s last year."
The fifth-years amassed around him shuffled in excitement. "How much?" called a voice Alex was ashamed to identify as Ron. Beside her, Ginny's shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"For the whole pint?" Eddie hummed thoughtfully. "Twelve galleons."
A few of the more level-headed students scoffed, their interest quashed. Unfortunately, that didn't include either Ron or Harry.
"What a steal!" the former said gleefully.
"Yeah," interjected Alex, swiping the bottle from the grifter. "But for him."
"Hey!" he protested, but a stomp of his toes shut him up real quick.
Alex uncorked the blue-tinted vial and, with a flick of her wand, drew out its contents like a snake charmer. "Piss off, Carmichael," she said, scowling. "This is orange and mango juice."
Eddie was forced to vacate the hallway as a mob of indignant fifth-years swarmed after him.
"You two are honestly so thick," scoffed Ginny.
Ron retaliated by pushing her shoulder. Naturally, the situation degenerated to the point where the two siblings were basically wrestling with each other.
Rolling her eyes, Alex coerced the juice back into its bottle and corked it before Vanishing it entirely. As she always did whenever she cast the spell, she wondered where Vanished items disappeared off to. Before she could get too lost in her mind, Harry said, "Alex."
"What?"
"You've been through the O.W.L.s, yeah? How were they?"
"A piece of cake," she said honestly.
Ron made a face from where Ginny was pinning him against the floor. "You and I have very different opinions about cake."
It was a stupid quip, but it made Alex snort nonetheless. "Why're you guys so worried? Haven't you been spending the past few months preparing for it?"
"How could we not have been?" groaned Ron as he shoved his sister away from him. "What with everyone spending their waking moment either studying for O.W.L.s or talking 'bout how much they're studying!"
Alex rolled her eyes. This was the part where she probably should have offered them her notes from last year, but she had slaved over that booklet, and really, there was only so much she could do for them. She wasn't a pushover like Hermione; the line had to be drawn somewhere.
The soft clearing of a throat had shivers creeping up Alex's spine. She knew the identity of the cougher even without turning around, and even if she didn't, the grating pitch of Umbridge's voice gave her away.
"I thought I heard of a ruckus going on here," she declared, approaching them like a predator seizing her prey. "I should have known you lot would be the culprits."
"Professor," greeted Alex, her spine straightening in the face of her (at least nominally) superior. "I've just finished docking points from each of these Gryffindors."
"Well done, Miss Fortescue," Umbridge said without taking her eyes off Ginny and Ron, who were scrambling off the floor. "But I think these two deserve a harsher punishment than that for tussling on the floor like a pair of animals."
Alex hastily smoothed her expression before her the twitch in her eye became visible. There were rumours that Filch was badgering Umbridge into letting him whip troublemaking students like they did in the good ol' days. Alex would rather die than let that happen to her friends.
Fortunately for all of them, the next words out of Umbridge's leering mouth wasn't the promise of a whipping but a simple detention. Alex's shoulders slumped in relief – but the others didn't share her sentiment. Ron's face turned an angry shade of red, Ginny clenched her jaw, and Harry was glaring at Umbridge so fiercely it was almost as if he could vaporise her with his eyes alone.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what set them off. As soon as Umbridge left, Alex turned to them. "What does she do in detention?" asked Alex.
Different professors preferred different methods. Snape made you clean cauldrons by hand, McGonagall made you erase graffiti from books and tables alike, Filch made you feed the toads used by the Choir Club, and Sprout had you handling manure for the greenhouse. Whatever Umbridge made people do, it couldn't possibly be worse than dealing with literal shit.
To her confusion, Ron nudged Harry and gestured to his hand. Frowning, Harry relented. He silently lifted his non-wand arm, pulling his sleeve away so that the back of his hand was visible to her – or rather, the scars on his hand.
Before she even realised it, Alex was in front of her Harry, cradling his hand gently in both of hers. The adage I must not tell lies was carved into his skin, the scar pale compared to the rest of his hand.
"What the fuck is this?" she murmured, unable to pry her gaze from the garish declaration.
"She makes us write lines," Harry said flatly. "Some people's fade. Mine won't."
Alex shuddered as she recalled the amount of detentions he had received. Then the rest of his response clicked. She stared at him with wide eyes. "All of them?" she breathed. "She does this to every student she punishes?"
Ron nodded gravely.
The first-years… Alex bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, using the pain to distract herself from the despair tearing her open within. She took a large step away from Harry, releasing his hand as if the appendage had burnt her. Unbidden tears sprung to her eyes.
"Don't go to detention anymore," she told them, not meeting their eyes lest they noticed how shiny hers had become.
"She'll get our dad fired," Ginny growled. "Leyana Warda's mum got sacked because her daughter got on Umbridge's wrong side."
Alex inhaled deeply as her eyes dried themselves. "Okay," she sighed. "Then let's make sure the public know just who the Ministry decided was fit to teach their children."
It took almost no effort to convince Hermione to partake in their plan. Skeeter, emboldened by their recent success, was just as eager, if not more so. Considering the praises and opportunities that had been heaped onto her after her other article, it was easy to see why. Fortunately, these prospects provided Skeeter with a different outlet to publish her writing, because while the Quibbler was decent enough to the job, it didn't hurt to choose a platform with a better reputation. Besides, no one wanted to risk Mr Lovegood's wellbeing again after the consequences he had faced last time.
Agreeing to the article was one thing. Getting the materials ready was another. Skeeter couldn't compose an article overnight, especially not when she needed photos of the abuse occurring within the castle. Few people were interested in volunteering their vulnerabilities for the world to see, least of all Harry. Ginny was game, apathetic to the attention her I will not fight carving would garner. Alex hastened to take a photo to be sent to Skeeter, but she needn't worry; the cursed quill Umbridge used for her barbaric detentions slowed down both the natural and magical healing process. It took Alex considerable restraint not to claw the horrid woman's face off every time she saw her.
The Weasley twins were incapable of such self-control. After hearing of their siblings' dual detention, they decided enough was enough. They were planning something retaliatory, something big, and any attempts to find out what were met with a wink and a shrug. If Umbridge thought the Skiving Snackboxes they'd been cooking up were a headache, she was going to be floored by the upcoming migraine, that was for sure.
Umbridge deserved worse than that. Her head ought to be split open with the bluntest instrument available. Who the hell took pleasure from torturing children, and young ones at that? Hogwarts professors, apparently.
Wouldn't be the first abusive teacher hired here, Alex groused internally, reflecting on all the times Snape had made first-years like Neville and Hermione cry simply because he didn't like that. Imagine being your eleven-year-old students' schoolyard bully.
Alex pushed back her plate of eggs, her appetite non-existent. When she excused herself from breakfast early, none of her friends batted an eye, well accustomed to her atypical habits by now.
The only professor who had been absent from the Great Hall was the headmaster himself. He was still in the castle, that was for sure; the portraits would've informed her otherwise. Her suspicions were confirmed when she approached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office and asked, "He in there?"
Michael, the sentient sentry, nodded, but otherwise remained still.
Alex sighed. Looked like he wanted to do this the hard way.
Irked, she grabbed a rolled-up piece of parchment from her bag. "Lemon drops," she said.
Nothing happened.
She heaved another sigh. "Fizzing whizbees. Chocolate frog. Lime drops."
No reaction other than a slow blink of stony eyes.
"You're killing me here," she muttered, continuing down her list of possible confectionary related passwords.
Michael continued to torture her with his silence until he at last leapt aside at the term Turkish delight.
"Ew," she said, putting her list away. "That's literally the worst one."
Michael shrugged.
"Thanks anyway," she sighed as she walked past him and up into the office.
"Miss Fortescue," Dumbledore said politely even as she ignored him in favour of greeting her grandfather's portraits first and foremost. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Alex remained standing despite the comfortable chairs on offer. "Did you know your latest Defence professor has taken to mutilating students as young as eleven?" she asked coolly.
Dumbledore frowned, his gentle expression discarded as a weary frown overtook him. "I'm aware," he murmured, unable to meet her gaze. "As is the Minister."
Alex flexed her hands by her side. They squeezed into tight fists to ward off the thrum of magic that surged into her palms. "He…knows that his Undersecretary is torturing children. And he approves of it?"
"He isn't aware of the specific details," said Dumbledore, his fingers steepled in front of his weathered face as he rested his elbows on his busy desk. "But he did provide what is essentially blanket immunity to Professor Umbridge. She is free to do as she wishes – to an extent."
"Such as using cursed items on first-years simply because they challenged her authority?" she said testily.
Dumbledore dipped his head in silent acknowledgement.
"Rubbish," Alex muttered beneath her breath. "That spineless piece of shit never should've been elected in the first place."
The person who, in another universe, could've been Minister of Magic and lead the country down a wildly different path merely watched her with neutral blue eyes. They darted down to his crystal ball not a moment later as a pink figure emerged in its reflection.
Alex's lips quirked upwards into a faint smirk at the sight of the dread newcomer waiting downstairs. "Thank you for your time, headmaster," she forced out when she noticed her grandfather peer at her in disapproval. "And good luck dealing with that ghoul."
"As always, your consideration is appreciated," Dumbledore said wryly as she left.
Umbridge's false smile froze into place when she spotted Alex at the entrance. "Miss Fortescue," she greeted, her eyes flashing with some indecipherable emotion. "I'm surprised to see you here instead of the Great Hall."
"Yes, well, I was wondering who Professor Dumbledore had in mind for head girl next year," Alex replied smoothly. "The prefects put in a vote, but the professors have a had in deciding the next heads as well."
"You needn't worry, Miss Fortescue," Umbridge assured her, smile widening. "You'll have my vote at the very least."
Alex dipped her head in appreciation. "Thank you, professor. I'll see you for my report later this evening."
Umbridge dismissed her with a nod, her mind already elsewhere. "Until then."