Chapter Fifty-Nine
The First Move
Alex was home for approximately twenty hours before she found Alastor Moody chilling in her living room.
"Did someone die?" she asked immediately, the last dredges of sleep fully purged from her system.
"Plenty of people are dying all over the world," he replied gruffly, earning himself a nasty look from both her mum. Dad would've reacted similarly if he wasn't at the shop. "I'm here to take you on a work trip."
"But that's my dad's job?"
Alastor rolled his disparate eyes. "A trip related to my—and your mother's—work."
But I wanna spend my first day home eating ice cream… Alex pushed the petulant thought from her mind. Her childhood was officially dead, at least according to Alastor.
"Let me get dressed," she sighed. She turned on the spot and went back up the stairs, muttering, "You really couldn't have given me some warning?"
"It was a last-minute occasion," he called back after her.
Alex threw off her pyjamas and pulled on the plainest, non-school robe she owned. After a moment's debate, she pocketed the wands she had stolen not long ago. They refused to respond to her despite the fact that she had won them fair and square, but she felt better having them on her person.
"Where are we headed?" she asked when she returned to the living room.
"Firstly, your perimeter," replied Alastor, a single grain of rice stuck to his grizzly chin.
"I'm quite certain that rice ball was meant for me," she remarked wryly.
Alex had the opportunity to snag a single rice ball before Alastor ushered her to her backyard, her mum trailing after her.
"Today we'll be going around key houses and setting up wards against unwanted visitors," Alastor informed her, withdrawing his wand. When he noticed her gazing surreptitiously around her property, he said, "I placed Notice-Me-Not spells around us."
"Good. Wouldn't wanna have to obliviate poor Mrs Sanders."
"You handy with neuromagic?" asked Alastor, sounding vaguely impressed.
"Uh, not really. Wanna teach me?" she suggested, eyes wide with hopeful excitement.
They looked to her mum for her approval. "Fine," she sighed, sipping her mug of coffee.
"I'm familiar with some basic wards at least," said Alex, wanting to reassure Alastor that she wasn't completely useless. "Mum has a bunch up now. My dad has to update the ones around the shop from time to time as well."
"I don't doubt he does," grunted Alastor. "We'll be casting similar ones, though we're aiming to ward off more than the average thief. Wand out."
Alex followed his lead. He recast the same spells Mum always applied every now and again while Alex watched closely, mouthing the incantations and mimicking his movements. Her mum gave pointers, correcting the angle and motions of Alex's wand. A transparent barrier flickered around their house, gone in the blink of an eye. Next door, Mrs Sanders' dog began to bark.
"Now onto the front yard," declared Alastor, already two steps ahead of her.
This time Alex was significantly more apprehensive about waving her wand all willy nilly in front of her entire neighbourhood. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice or particularly care thanks to Alastor's earlier charm.
The weathered auror clapped her on the shoulder, almost toppling her over. "Your turn. Do the rest of the street."
Alex's eyes came close to falling out of her head in shock. She didn't complain, though, and instead rose to the challenge. Her mum had to assist her with the first few houses, but from then on it was smooth sailing.
When she was done, she crawled back to her house. The sun was at its peak, and Alex had sweat through her robes – which she could've tossed aside in exchange for her summer mugglewear, now that she thought about it!
"Are other teams doing this all over London?" she asked, distracting herself from the way her robes clung onto her skin.
To her mild surprise, Alastor shook his head. "It's impractical. Not only do we lack the manpower, these wards cannot withstand the more powerful curses. We've decided to hit locations that are more likely to face being attacked."
"That's incredibly reassuring," she drawled.
Alastor held his arm out for her. "Granger's residence next."
Groaning, Alex grabbed his forearm. She managed one small wave to her mum before Alastor apparated them away.
"Wotcher, Alex," Tonks greeted her the following day. "Mad-Eye says you fancy learning neuromagic?"
"You're good at that?" Alex couldn't help but feel sceptical given how scatter-brained Tonks was.
She nodded. "I'm the best of our lot. Can I come in?"
Stepping aside, Alex kept the door open for Tonks as she walked in. She examined the place with obvious interest. Tonks was a brunette today, possibly her original colouring, and appeared rather weary. Dark shadows ringed her eyes while her skin seemed awfully pale.
"Is everything all right?" Alex wondered.
"Hm? Oh," murmured Tonks, snapping out of her reverie. "I was just thinking about Remus. They checked him out of the hospjtal today. He hasn't woken yet," she added hastily when Alex's face brightened, "but everyone decided it was safer for him to remain at HQ."
That made sense. Fewer people could access 12 Grimmauld Place, and it was no small secret that the healers could be discriminatory towards certain groups of people when they felt like it. And who was to say a Death Eater wouldn't waltz in and take advantage of Remus' comatose state? No, it was much better for him to be in the care of his closest companions.
"Was Sirius relieved?" she asked, curious.
"Immensely. Though their relationship isn't what it used to be, Sirius cares about Remus even more than I do."
Alex's eyebrows flew up to her hairline at the implications of Tonks' comment. "You and Remus…?"
Tonks rubbed the back of her neck. "We flirted, but that was it. I had been hoping to take further this summer."
"You'll have your chance," Alex assured her despite the lack of concrete evidence to back up her claim. "He's beaten the odds before, hasn't he?"
Tonks nodded slowly, the lines in her face disappearing as she smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Y'know, Alex, you're not half as cold as everyone says."
"Thank you?"
"You're welcome. Now, have you heard of occlumency?"
"Yeah. I'm not too bad at it. Better than Harry and Hermione at least." Ron was probably as good as her in that department too. "I prefer legilimency, though."
Her admission gave Tonks pause. "I see. That's unusual."
"How d'you mean?"
"Well, most people are uncomfortable with the idea of penetrating another's mind and rifling through their inner thoughts and feelings. It's invasive and a massive violation of one's privacy."
"I understand," said Alex. She wasn't talking out of her arse this time; she really could see where Tonks was coming from. It was the same way she felt about love potions, after all.
"I'm glad you agree. Now, we'll work on occlumency and legilimency, but you have to promise me you'll only use it in dire situations."
Alex put on her best smile. "Of course. Shall we start?"
True to her word, Tonks was distinctly talented are neuromagic. Her mental shields were far sturdier than Alex's, and right when she thought she managed to slip past her defences, it turned out that it was a mere red herring dangled by Tonks to fool Alex into believing she had succeeded.
For example, if Alex wanted to discern what Tonks had gotten up to yesterday, her legilimency spell would be met with a solid wall at first. After several eternal seconds wherein Alex would amp up the power to weaken the older witch's mental shield, it would give way, only for Alex to be hit with a barrage of images that were as clear as moonshine. Alex certainly felt as if she had down a few pints of the spirit after trying to parse through the chaos that was Tonks' brain.
"You're sick," Alex gasped as she fell back against her sofa.
Tonks cackled from her perch on the loveseat perpendicular to her. "Save that comment for when we switch places after lunch."
Alex threw her head back and groaned.
Needless to say, Tonks obliterated her occlumency shields.
They ended things shortly before Alex's parents clocked off. If she was tired yesterday, then she was practically dead today. Tonks, on the other hand, left in a much better mood than she had arrived in. She was smiling freely and her hair had turned a bright shade of bubblegum pink.
"See ya around, Alex," Tonks said, throwing her cloak back on. "You improved by leaps and bounds today."
Alex huffed. She immediately regretted it when the small action reinvigorated her headache. "Don't patronise me. I don't hold a candle to you."
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Tonks patted her on the arm. "You've just started training, and you haven't even graduated yet. You just might surpass me someday."
"Sure," she laughed, touched by Tonks' unexpected earnestness. "See you soon."
Tonks disapparated. While only the Fortescues were able to apparate into their home, the runes surrounding their property didn't prevent others from disapparating for convenience's sake.
Since there was time left before dinner, Alex decided to pop by Harry's for a quick visit. She wrestled Spitfire into a leash and took him with her on her walk to Privet Drive. It was always fun, walking her pet. Not only was it interesting to watch how Spitfire interacted with the world around him—he always, always tried to derail their stroll by going after a bird or an insect—it was pleasing to see the way peoples' faces lit up when they realised that, yes, she was walking a cat and not a dog.
On her way to the park, she was stopped by no less than four groups of people. In addition to cooing over the fact that a cat was being walked, they all wanted to pat Spitfire, who was a friendly creature by nature and happily obliged. It was nice, interacting with random strangers who had no expectations or reservations about her; it made her want to resume working at the shop as soon as possible.
Alex wondered what Diagon Alley was like now. Were people beginning to grow afraid of the incoming war? Or were they still oblivious and going about their days like usual? She needed to ask her dad when he got home.
"Ugh." The sound of disgust left her throat before she even registered why.
The local park had a decent playground built for children. It predated Alex, and the city council rarely bothered to maintain it, which was why most of the equipment was rusty or plain uncomfortable to use. Still, there wasn't much to do when you were a kid with heaps of spare time, so a fair amount of children used the playground from time to time.
Unfortunately, Dudley and his friends seemed to fall into that category despite almost reaching adulthood themselves. Then again, it probably didn't count as playing since they were merely doing their best to trash the already run-down playground. Two boys were pulling the seat of the swings back and throwing them up over the metal bar, wrapping the chains around it until the swings were so high not even the tallest child could hope to reach it. Another boy was presumably scrawling obscenities on the mini carousel while Dudley tried to rip down the plastic climbing wall with his bare hands.
What utter cunts, mused Alex, flexing her fingers by her side.
They noticed her before she could complete her spell.
"Nice pussy ya got there!"
The warmth of magic faded from her system as Alex's blood ran cold.
At their mate's comment, the rest of them looked up. They glanced between Alex and Spitfire.
The one by the rock-climbing wall leered. "You like black and hairy ones?" he guffawed.
All of them save Dudley burst into crude, raucous laughter. Harry's cousin recognised her. While his friends saw her as an ordinary girl with her black cat, Dudley knew her as a witch.
Alex met Dudley's gaze and smiled.
Her magic rushed to her fingers with the heat and intensity of a volcanic eruption. A violent gust of wind blew through the park from the boys' end, buffeting them slightly and blowing back Alex's hair away from her face. Seemingly urged by the wind, the seats of the swings forcefully unwound themselves from the bar they had been repeatedly tossed over, slapping the perpetrators in the process. The mini carousel began to spin with unprecedent speed as though pushed by an invisible force, trapping its vandaliser as he screamed and clung to the railing. Dudley's yell of surprise joined the cacophony as the climbing wall at last unbolted itself and fell atop of him. Granted, it was only plastic, so it didn't seem to do much beyond knocking the air from his lungs.
Alex decided to take her leave while Dudley's mates rushed over to help pry the weight pinning him down. The sight of their panicked and bewildered dispositions drew out a smile that, unlike the one she had shot Dudley, was genuine. Still smiling, she turned around from the park – only to almost bump into an elderly man standing behind her.
Scratch that. The old man was none other than Dumbledore.
Her initial reaction of confusion quickly made way for muted horror. Just how much of that had he seen?
"Did someone die?" she asked, wide-eyed. What other reason could bring Dumbledore here?
The most powerful wizard in Britain shook his head. "I'm here to prevent a death," he said ominously.
Alex suppressed the urge to glance behind her. "Whose?"
"Your father's. Let's hurry back now."
Dumbledore held out his arm to her. She took it and steeled herself for side-along apparition. The ancient wizard was experienced at this particular method of transportation, thankfully, so their trip was her smoothest yet. Spitfire gagged, though.
They landed in front of her house. Alex hurried inside and dropped Spitfire, freeing her hands so she could barrel into her parents' open arms.
"What's going on?" she asked, stepping back after their short embrace.
Worry lined her dad's face. "I was closing the shop for the day when Professor Dumbledore appeared. He said there were substantial rumours that the Death Eaters are after me. We need to leave immediately."
Alex's head spun as she tried to absorb all that. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere you're well acquainted with," piped up Dumbledore. "Twelve Grimmauld Place."
Grimacing, Alex nodded. "Do we have time to pack?" she asked.
"We've already cleaned through our rooms," answered Mum, her expression firm despite the moistness of her eyes. "We'll work on the living room while you tend to your room."
Alex ran up the stairs without another word. Time was of the essence here. The runic barriers surrounding the house could only put up with so much.
Her heart thumped against her chest as she hastily scanned her room. She packed everything that would be a pain to replace: her clothes, cosmetics, tabletop and pocket sneakoscopes, her books and video games. God, did Grimmauld Place even have electric outlets?
She shook off that train of thought before it could derail her any further. Her priceless journal was tossed into her bottomless school trunk, followed by her half-filled photo album and her favourite stuffed animal. Yeah, she still slept with one – so what?
"Are we all done up there?" called Dad.
"Just about!" she replied, slamming her trunk shut. She hefted it over her shoulder after applying the Lightening Charm on it. One second spared for what was probably her last look of her room.
The living room had changed completely by the time she returned. All the furniture had been removed, and what was left was covered up with dirty grey sheets. There was a suspicious layer of grime coating the entire house as though it had been untouched for many years.
"There," said Dumbledore, tucking away his wand. "If anyone comes looking, they'll assume you've moved long before Voldemort decided to search for you."
Mum held out the bag of floo powder they kept on the fireplace. "Alex, you first."
"What about the car?" she asked.
Dad shook his head. "It was time we retired it anyway."
Frowning, Alex obediently grabbed a fistful of powder and stepped into the fireplace. "Twelve Grimmauld Place," she said clearly, throwing down the powder.
The green flames roared to life and swallowed her and her belongings whole. Spitfire hissed, confused and terrified, as the floo powder worked its magic and transported them another place entirely.
Sirius greeted her in the study where the Black family fireplace was located. "Come in before your parents materialise on top of you."
Alex stepped out of the considerably larger fireplace and shook the soot off her like a dog with water running down its back. Spitfire mewed pitifully from within his carrier and bit Alex on the hand when she let him out.
"Little bastard," she muttered, watching as he scuttled off to explore the house. She turned to Sirius, who appeared visibly amused. "Why are the Death Eaters after my dad?"
The levity disappeared from his expression. He moved to sit behind the large study desk and motioned for her to take the seat across from him.
Alex perched on the edge of the seat, her trunk left behind next to the fireplace. She clasped her hands in her lap and waited for Sirius to divulge the information she so sorely craved.
When nothing happened for several seconds, she grew impatient. "Well?"
Sirius held up a finger.
The fireplace spat someone out. The smoke cleared, revealing Alex's mum. She arched an eyebrow when she saw Sirius. "This is your home, then, Mr Black?"
Sirius shot her a sceptical look that clearly said 'Mr Black'? "It belongs to the Black family," he replied, nodding. "Will your husband be joining us shortly?"
"He'll be on his way," confirmed Mum. "Dumbledore has other plans, I'm afraid."
Dad appeared mere moments later. He greeted Sirius with much more warmth than his wife had, and quickly transfigured himself a seat beside his daughter.
Sirius opened a drawer from his side of the desk and took out a sheet of parchment. "This is a letter we received from an unknown owl last night," he explained, placing the letter atop of the desk. "It warned us that Voldemort was seeking information on Florean Fortescue."
Alex snatched up the incriminating letter before her parents had the chance to. It was fairly straightforward and consisted of four words.
He seeks Florean Fortescue.
Beneath the simple sentence was a crude drawing of the Dark Mark. Whoever the sender was, clearly they were no artist.
Alex committed the inscription to memory even as her mum plucked the letter from her slackened grip.
"Why?" murmured Mum. Her question was directed not at the letter but her husband. "Why you, Florean? I understand why they would be after me, even Alexandra, but you're the least implicated out of us three."
Dad stared at the floor. He didn't reach for the letter, wouldn't even peer at it. "There could be a variety of reasons," he said quietly. "But I can't say for sure. They could've even tried to use to me to get to you."
That…made a frightful amount of sense. As a frequenter of Diagon Alley, Alex's dad was the most accessible person who was connected with the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone else was either a Ministry employee or had their private homes shielded with the proper charms.
"I'm going to have to close the shop," Dad realised with a sigh. "Well, it's not like business will be booming these days anyway." Though it was summer, not many people would be in the mood for ice cream – fewer still would risk an attack in Diagon Alley for a mere sweet treat.
Sirius frowned sympathetically as he got up from his chair. "In the meantime, you are most welcome to stay here as long as possible."
Her parents each took turns to shake Sirius's hand. "We thank you for your generosity," Mum said earnestly.
"I'll show them around," volunteered Alex.
"Remus is on the fourth floor," Sirius informed her.
She nodded hesitantly.
They left Sirius in the study. Alex gave her parents a brief tour of the place and pointed out the kitchen, bathrooms and library. The sight of Kreacher skulking the halls had her mum and dad grimacing, though whether it was because he was a house-elf or because he was Kreacher was up for debate.
"Wow, he really despises you," Dad observed.
"You didn't do anything, did you?" Mum asked warily.
"Anyway," said Alex, "you can use this room. I stayed in the one across the hall last summer." Ginny and Hermione bunked together, much like Harry and Ron did, in order to save space. However, Alex wasn't exactly a quiet sleeper, so it was best for everyone that she had her own room to herself.
After tossing her trunk into said room, Alex ascended the staircase to the fourth floor. She glanced at the closed doors of Sirius and his brother's childhood bedrooms and tried every other door. Finally she found the room housing Remus – and incidentally Sirius, judging by the handheld mirror lying on the table beside the other bed.
Sirius's was parallel to Remus's. Both beds were queen-sized and fit easily in the large room. There was a sneakoscope on the tea table in the middle of the room. Tucked to the side was a trunk that Alex suspected contained all of Sirius's possessions.
Alex hopped onto the edge of Sirius's bed. She kicked her feet out as she unloaded a soliloquy onto Remus, who was unconscious but probably still dimly away of what was occurring around him. After recounting what had happened in her life and in the wizarding world since he'd been out—which wasn't much, considering it'd been roughly a week since the battle at the Department of Mysteries—Alex began to ramble about the books she read and the shows she'd seen, and then gave a play-by-play of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which had just been released in theatres. Alex was just confiding in her conspiracy theory that Walt Disney was, in fact, a squib when there was a knock on the door.
Harry poked his head in. "Hi."
"Hey. You been here long?"
He shook his head. "Just got here. You?"
She mimicked his gesture. "Same. Voldemort wants my dad so we're here from now on. Did…something happen with you?"
"Nothing as severe," Harry said slowly as he tried to wrap his mind around what she'd just said. "Dumbledore took me to meet the new Defence professor, then apparated me here. He says I don't have to return to Privet Drive until next year."
"Nice." She patted the spot next to her. "What's the new professor like?"
Harry thought about it as he took a seat beside her. "Better than Umbridge. Did you know she was the one who sent the dementors after me?"
"Huh?" Alex felt totally blindsided by that bomb. "Says who?"
"Dumbledore," Harry responded dryly. "He told me just now. When you, uh, Stunned her, Snape found her and rifled through her mind."
"That's fucked."
"Yeah. Makes you wonder how many times he's picked at our brains."
"Not that," she said impatiently with a wave of her hand. "Umbridge. She was a high-ranking Ministry official who tried to destroy your soul! And for what? Because you challenged Fudge's narrative?" Alex scoffed. "Tell me the bint is in Azkaban at least."
Harry shrugged. "There's no evidence, even with your photos. She can't be implicated, but at least the dementors are no longer employed by the Ministry. They're breaking the news tomorrow morning."
"Well, that's something," grumbled Alex. At least Sirius's goal at abolishing dementors from Azkaban was finally complete. "Though I don't suppose it'll matter much when Voldemort starts using them for his army again. How do you even kill a dementor, anyway?" Maybe the Black library had some answers for her.
"Remus would know," Harry mumbled, glancing at his father's old friend.
Alex nudged him. "He'll be right," she assured him. "Maybe killing the person responsible might even break the curse on him."
Harry smirked half-heartedly. "I don't think this is exactly a fairy-tale type situation."
She clicked her fingers as though she had received a revelation. "He needs true love's kiss. Think Sirius fits the bill?"
"Maybe back when they were our age," reflected Harry. "That ship has sailed though."
"Sucks," she murmured.
"More importantly," said Harry, "why is Voldemort after your dad?"
"No clue. Maybe he really hates ice cream." She shouldn't be joking about it, but when rendered ineffectual it was infinitely better to laugh than cry.
The Weasley family arrived shortly after. Either it was a coincidence or Dumbledore had tipped them off, because Harry was as surprised as her when they showed up. More surprising still was the fact that Fleur Delacour was with them, her arms around Bill's.
Alex sighed. The hot Weasley was taken.
"Alexandra!" gasped Fleur. She let go of Bill and wrapped her arms around Alex instead. "It is so lovely to see you again."
Was it? She and Fleur, though fairly amicable, weren't exactly good friends. Still, she was a good hugger. "You too, Fleur," said Alex, smiling. "How long have you and Bill been together?"
"Since the beginning of the year," Fleur replied giddily. "Look at the gorgeous ring he gave me."
"It's a fat ring," Alex said approvingly.
Ginny snorted. "It was grandma's. Mum was saving it for Charlie, but it probably wouldn't fit on a dragon."
Alex grinned.
"I still have hope for my eldest," claimed Mrs Weasley.
"Sometimes people don't get married, and that's okay," Alex said a touch patronisingly.
Her mum cuffed her on the back of her head. "Watch it," she warned her beneath her breath.
Alex stuck her tongue out at her.
"Well, won't you look at the time," said Dad, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. "We should get dinner ready, don't you think?"
Mrs Weasley. "You kids can catch up and help set up later. Off you go, now."
"They're gonna use this time to share information we're apparently not ready to hear," drawled one of the twins.
"Even though we're done with school and we're about to open up our shop!" rounded off the other.
"You guys have your merch finalised?" Alex asked as they filed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Anything useful?"
They appeared mildly offended. "Everything in our store is a necessity, young lady! You'll see this weekend at our grand opening."
"Can't wait," chirped Harry, grinning.
"You'd better not go as yourself," Alex said archly. "Either throw on your cloak or change your face. It's too dangerous otherwise."
"What about you?" he countered. "You've got a target on your back too."
Ron peered at her with wide eyes. "Already? We only left school two days ago."
Alex sighed. "You explain," she told Harry, tired of having to repeat herself so soon. "I'm going to hang with Fleur. You coming, Ginny?"
The only other girl in the group shot Fleur an unfriendly look. "I'm good," she told Alex.
"Uh, okay." Bemused, Alex turned to Fleur, who seemed unaffected by Ginny's hostility. "Let's keep Remus company."
Fleur frowned sympathetically at Remus's comatose state when she and Alex entered his room. "My friend's aunt was in a coma for ten years before she woke up," she informed Alex. "She dreamt she was living in a completely life the entire time."
Alex tried not to think too hard or long about that. "How have you been?" she asked instead.
"Good. I mean, well," she amended. "Is my English improving? I worked part-time at Gringotts after school to improve my English skills – that's where I met Bill." Fleur basically swooned as she spoke her betrothed's name.
Alex smiled, amused. "He is the hottest Weasley, so congrats."
"Looks matter not to me," declared Fleur, and Alex had no reason to doubt her. Most people tended to assume Fleur was shallow because she was part-Veela, but if anything her ethereal attractiveness was a burden when it came to dating. You couldn't really tell if people loved you for yourself or because of your appearance.
Pretty people had it so hard.
Fleur misinterpreted Alex's sardonic smirk. "Truly," she insisted, a hint of her accent peeking out as it did whenever she grew flustered. "I have received many proposals in my life, but Bill's was the only one I even considered accepting."
"I trust you," Alex assured her. "How long did you date before he popped the question?"
"A year."
Alex's eyes almost fell out of her head in shock. "That's…very quick."
"When you know, you know," Fleur said with a sage nod. "His family, on the other hand, do not approve."
"Yeah, I noticed that. Did you kill their chickens or something?" Or maybe she insulted their favourite quidditch teams. Had she turned her nose up at Mrs Weasley's hospitality?
"It is my very personality which appears to offend them," sniffed Fleur. "But I am who I am, and there's no changing that."
"Well," said Alex, "you could change it a little. Y'know, if you ever want in-laws who accept you as their family."
Fleur deflated somewhat. "I suppose," she admitted quietly.
Alex patted her hand. "I've learned that being quiet and fading into the background does wonders for how likeable you seem."
"Such an attitude goes against my very nature," remarked Fleur.
Alex laughed.
Fleur smiled at her. "At least I have you as my ally."
"Only if you make me your maid of honour."
Hermione, to Alex's immense disappointment, was also staunchly anti-Fleur. While she gave no substantial reason for her stake in that camp, Alex suspected it was a mixture of insecurity and jealousy that fuelled her enmity towards Fleur.
Hermione was similarly disappointed, not in Fleur or Alex but herself. The Gryffindor swot arrived at Grimmauld Place the same morning as her and the boys' O.W.L. results were mailed in. She had received an Outstanding in everything save for DADA; she got an Exceeds Expectations for that subject.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Alex told Hermione while Harry and Ron high-fived each other for only failing Divination and History of Magic. "I doubt anyone in your year did better than you."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at her. "Didn't you achieve all O's for your exams?"
Alex shrugged.
Hermione faintly trembled with rage.
"Aw, don't fret, Herm," said Tonks. "I didn't get a single O and I'm doing great!"
"You fell down the stairs this morning," noted Sirius from behind his copy of the Prophet.
"Is that what that ominous noise was?" murmured Mum.
Tonks reddened.
The adults slowly trickled out of the house after they ate their fill. Mum left for work while Dad did the dishes. Sirius retreated upstairs to his room. Alex planned on spending her day in the library. Last night she had discovered a set of books related to medical magic, and she was keen to sink her teeth into them and swallow down any useful spells they had to offer.
Unlike last year, no one protested how much time she was spending in the Black library. Either they stopped caring or were too busy to notice; either way, Alex revelled in her alone time.
By the time her candle was one-third of the way burnt through, she felt confident enough to try her hand at at least one spell. Unfortunately, she needed a corpse to practise it on. A living body would suffice as well, but her inexperienced hand would most likely end up killing them.
The one person she would even consider asking was Alastor, and even then she was pushing it. She didn't feel comfortable gravedigging or breaking into mortuaries; Alex's moral compass was still mostly intact despite what some people thought.
A knock on the door had her flinching.
"Come in," she called – a pointless action since whoever knocked was already halfway through opening the door.
"Wotcher," greeted Tonks. Her hair was blue now. "A bunch of us were gonna grab our brooms and fly for a bit. You wanna come?"
As much as Alex wanted to say no, she had a feeling that neglecting her flying would only come back to bite her in the arse.
"Fine," she sighed, shutting her book. A cloud of dust flew out from between the pages.
"Some fresh air will do you heaps good," said Tonks, grinning. "You're getting paler by the day cooped up in here."
Alex rolled her eyes as she exited the library. "Don't let anyone from Hogwarts hear you say that. They already think I'm a ghost who's stolen the body of a mortal."
Tonks shook her head. "That's far more flattering than anything anyone's ever said about me."
Alex headed to her room and grabbed her broomstick. By the time she made her way downstairs, Tonks, the trio and Ginny were waiting by the front door, brooms in hand. They shrunk their broomsticks and left Grimmauld Place.
The humidity had them all grimacing as soon as they stepped outside.
"At least it's overcast," observed Ron.
"Let's walk to the park before taking off," suggested Tonks. "We all have our pocket sneakoscopes, yeah?"
The girls nodded. Harry and Ron shrugged sheepishly.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Well, no big deal," Tonks said easily, leading them to the nearby park. "We're sticking together anyhow."
The park—if it could even be called that—was devoid of any other people. Tonks and Alex applied notice-me-not spells on each of them before everyone returned their brooms to their original sizes. They tossed a leg over the broomstick, some with more dexterity than others, and hovered off the ground.
"I know of a solid route," announced Tonks. She withdrew a pair of flying goggles from her pockets and snapped it on. "Follow me."
The older witch pushed off the ground and ascended a good twenty metres up in the air. The rest of the group hastened to follow her. Ginny was the first to reach Tonks' level, beating Harry by mere milliseconds. Ron was up next, then Alex, and then Hermione.
"Ready?" Tonks yelled over the wind. "Let's go!"
Alex gripped her broomstick tightly as she learned forward. Her broom was neither old nor new, and kept up easily with Tonks'. She flanked her left while Ginny covered her right side. Harry fell into the middle while Hermione and Ron covered the back end of their formation. It amused Alex greatly at how naturally they had defaulted into such a position.
When was the last time she had flown? She'd forgotten how soothing it could be, if you forgot how dangerous it was. Alex savoured the way the clean, fresh air tickled the nape of her neck and brushed the exposed skin her muggle outfit provided her. The first thing she would do after landing would be to smear on an overwhelming amount of moisture, but she chose not to think about that at the moment.
Harry and Ginny, the show-offs that they were, began to do tricks mid-air, much to Hermione's vocal consternation. Tonks laughed boisterously and put her juniors in their places by turning things up a notch with her own broom manoeuvres.
They landed back at the park several minutes later without any injuries whatsoever. Well, their lips were quite chapped, but not even Mrs Weasley would get worked up over that…probably.
"I haven't had that much fun in ages!" exclaimed Tonks. She removed her goggles, beaming. "We should do that again sometime."
"Maybe with less upside-down flying," Hermione squeaked, her knees shaking slightly. Her hair was wilder than usual thanks to the wind.
Ginny ran her fingers through the knots in her hair. "I dunno know about you lot, but I could go for some butterbeer right now," she chirped.
"Sounds good," agreed Harry.
They shared a warm look that was hastily disrupted by Ron, who walked between them and noisily voiced his eagerness to get back inside.
Rolling her eyes, Alex traced his footsteps. She shrunk her broomstick into a more manageable size and took out her cherry lip balm.
Tonks eyed the small stick as Alex dragged it across her mouth. "Can I use some?"
"Sure." Smacking her lips together to ensure thorough application, Alex handed the uncapped balm to Tonks.
"Thanks." Like a toddler confronted with something beyond their realm of awareness, Tonks slowly dabbed at her lips. "Oh, it tastes like cherries!"
Alex chuckled. "Keep it," she said, amused at Tonks' naked excitement. "Cherry's my least favourite from this brand."
"You sure?"
She nodded. "I always end up misplacing my lip balm after I've had it for a certain amount of time. It happens to so many people I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the inventor was actually a witch or wizard with a bad sense of humour."
Wide-eyed, Tonks held up the lip balm as though seeing it in a brand-new light. "Fascinating," she murmured, sounding so much like Mr Weasley that it had Alex bursting into laughter. Tonks grinned brightly in response.
Something in her stomach stirred. Alex's smile dimmed.
Yeah, no, she thought to herself, stepping foot into 12 Grimmauld Place. That's not happening.
Honestly, what was it with her and Hufflepuffs?
"You wanna work on your occlumency?" Tonks asked, closing the door behind them.
"Yes." The word had left her before she could even think about it.
Tonks' pretty smile definitely wasn't helping matters. "Great! Your room or mine?"
Alex struggled to pull her mind from the gutter. "Uh, mine." She wasn't really keen on seeing the mess that no doubt constituted Tonks' room.
In the few days since she moved in, Alex had decorated her room considerably. In addition to the bed that had originally been there, she added everything she had packed with her, including her study table and chair. She offered the latter to Tonks, but she preferred the end of Alex's bed instead. Bemused, Alex sat opposite her.
"Defence or offense first?" asked Tonks, wand in hand.
Alex was already gripping her own. "The former."
Tonks inhaled deeply and met Alex's steady gaze with an intense one of her own. "Legilimency."
Alex's mental shield was definitely stronger than it had been the last time. She felt Tonks' magic attempting to pry at the edges of her mind, and when that didn't work, it became a battering ram. Unable to withstand such an attack, Alex's shield collapsed. Tonks courteously cancelled her spell, but not before she caught a wisp of Alex's most recent thought.
Tonks grinned wolfishly. "You think my eyes are pretty?"
Alex was tempted to bury her head in her pillows. "Uh," she said, blushing like mad. "Sure. Are they your original colour?"
Tonks nodded. "People usually don't comment on them, 'cause they're black," she commented. She blinked, and suddenly they were green, then blue, then purple. "My eyes were the first thing I changed when I realised my powers."
"Those are also nice," Alex said diplomatically. "But I like your real colour the most." Whenever Tonks used her gift, it was almost like a thin veil had been tossed over her. It clouded her features, made her seem less genuine in Alex's point of view. She wondered if that was how everyone else saw her.
Tonks' grin mellowed out into something smaller and softer. Her eyes became black once more. "Is it 'cause your eyes are a similar shade?" she asked, reaching out to brush an errant eyelash from Alex's cheek.
She felt so safe in Tonks' presence that she hardly even reacted to the abrupt invasion of her personal space. "Maybe," she murmured, straining not to stare at Tonks' lips. It was right there and still curved upwards into that warm smile of hers.
Tonks' smile widened as she leaned forward.
Well, thought Alex as she made no move to avoid what was coming, it's nice to know the feeling's mutual.
Tonks was a…confident kisser. Cedric had always been shy and hesitant, even near the end of their relationship.
That initial comparison was the last she thought of Cedric. It was funny – she had believed it would be difficult to move on from him. She supposed she had checked out of their relationship long before that day at the entrance hall.
Snogging Tonks was nice. Not only was it a great distraction from the chaos surrounding them, Tonks herself was nice. Alex really liked her. She would probably never love her; she doubted she would love anyone the way she loved Cedric. That was okay, though, because even at that moment Alex was sure this wouldn't last past the summer.
Alex was the first to end the kiss. She caught her breath while Tonks hardly looked ruffled.
"You didn't change your lungs to that of a horse's, did you?" Alex asked suspiciously.
Tonks guffawed. "I wouldn't say a horse, but you're on the right track. I'm surprised you caught on," she admitted, a shade of approval colouring her voice.
Smiling, Alex rolled her eyes. "Bet that comes in handy."
"My partners sure liked it," Tonks said with a salacious wink.
Alex pressed her hands against her reddening cheeks. "I meant at work! On auror missions and stuff!"
"Yeah, that too."
Sobering, Alex lowered her hands. "I can't do long distance," she warned her. "Even though I like you…a lot."
Tonks patted her on the knee. "I wasn't thinking that far ahead, but thanks for letting me know. You should try living in the moment a bit."
It was a testament to how much Alex fancied Tonks that she didn't immediately and callously dismiss her. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, which was honestly the best she could promise.
Apparently understanding that, Tonks offered her a small smile of encouragement. "Sounds good to me. Let's get back to occlumency, yeah?"
"I don't think we'll get much done if we approach that branch of magic again," Alex noted wryly. Her amusement grew alongside Tonks' smirk. "How are your Memory Charms?"
Tonks' eyes widened comically. "Not great," she confessed. "I'm a scatterbrain myself so I'm only subpar at the spell."
Alex hummed, mildly disappointed. "D'you know anyone who's good at it?"
"It'd have to be someone good at lying," mused Tonks. "Someone who can be unshakably calm."
Those criteria narrowed down Alex's search pool considerably. Remus was comatose, her mum had no time to teach her, Dumbledore would instantly suspect her of No Good, and Snape was – well, he was Snape.
Alex fell back onto her bed, sighing. Hopefully Alastor had someone who owed him a favour.