A/N: Have you guys realised how much Rowling and her editing team adore capital letters? Quidditch, Aurors, Apparating - when you think about their real-world equivalent (football, police, driving) - it's really bizarre.

Thanks for all the encouraging reviews! Feel free to let me know if I made an error + predictions and anything you'd like to see happen as the story continues.

Chapter Two

Company

To be honest, being in the world of Harry Potter both delighted and terrified her. On the one hand: magic! On the other: magic… Because magic existed, so many wonderful and improbable things were possible with the flick of a wrist. But because it existed, the pain and suffering in the world was all the greater.

Sighing, Alex leaned onto the carriage wall, her face pressed against the cool glass of the window. This was it. Her journey as a witch was finally beginning.

The Hogwarts Express let out a loud toot, causing one of the other first years to do the same as they stumbled through the corridor. Alex smirked at the sight but, for the poor kid's sake, she pretended she was laughing at the book in her lap instead.

Students from all years were calling out their farewells as the train began to move. Alex's own parents had left fifteen minutes ago. They managed to squeeze in some free time to send her off, but had to return to work eventually.

The day she had received her Hogwarts letter, Alex had turned stiff with apprehension. Honestly, she had been longing for the letter in both her past and current lives, but it wasn't until the shock wore off that the implications fully sunk in. Within the next few years, Hogwarts was going to source of her joy and happiness, but it would also cause much sorrow.

Her parents had been thrilled, of course. For the first few years of Alex's life, they were worried she would turn out to be a squib. Most babies and toddlers showed hints of magic accidentally; Alex had heard recounts of some children turning couches into ducks, replacing water with grape juice, and even altering others' hair colour. This was due to their childishness and lack of restraint. Alex, however, wasn't your average witch; it wasn't until she was ten that she showed her potential.

It happened as she was wandering around Diagon Alley. Her parents had deemed her responsible enough to walk around unsupervised, especially in an amicable place such as the Alley. As she played with the myriad of creatures in the Magical Menagerie, the bell hanging over the door tinkled cheerily, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Alex paid them no mind, focusing her attention instead on the cat nuzzling her hand.

"Mother, why are we in this zoo?" spat a young girl. "I don't even want a pet!"

"Hush, dear," commanded a woman, presumably the haughty girl's mother. "Do not make up your mind so hastily."

"But this place is so filthy. It's probably run by a mudblood," she muttered.

Alex twitched. She continued to pat the black cat on display as she subtly angled herself to catch a glimpse of the purist in the store. What she saw wasn't too surprising. The offending girl had an upturned nose which looked like someone had punched into her face, providing her with the face similar to a pug's.

Honestly, why did conservative witches and wizards believe they were superior simply because of their blood? If anything, they were the ones who were inferior - it was due to purebloods that the First Wizarding War took place; it was their fault that innocent people were harassed, assaulted and killed.

Unbeknownst to Alex, her hands had curled into fists. Naturally, this upset the cat she was stroking but, instead of attacking her, it lunged at Pansy with a hiss. Pansy screamed as she tried to rip the angry ball of black fur off of her face. Snarling, her mother grabbed her wand from the pocket of her robes. She flicked it, and the cat was sent flying through the air. Concern spiked in Alex's gut.

Instead of slamming into the cages lining the wall, though, the cat abruptly stopped mid-air. It floated for a second before gently drifting down to the floor.

During the fuss, the store owner had returned from the back, and was now trying to calm down the pair of women throwing a hissy fit. They eventually left the store – not without a huff or two, of course – but Alex was too stunned to pay much attention.

She had performed her first bout of magic! Her parents were going to be thrilled!

A soft mew drew her back to the present. Smiling, Alex stood up and reached for the carrier on the shelf above her. As she undid the latch, the grated door popped open, and a black cat jumped out and into her arms.

Spitfire purred happily as Alex scratched between his ears. After the whole incident in the pet store, the owner was outraged. She muttered her breath and glared daggers at proud cat even as Alex played with it. So she bought it then and there, lest the owner make good on the threats she was murmuring.

The first few minutes of the trip passed by peacefully. The train was just beginning to cross into the countryside when Alex's door slid open.

A girl with golden hair stepped in. Displeasure flickered over her features as her grey eyes landed on Alex, but it was gone in an instant. She pressed her thin lips into an even line. "I was hoping this carriage would be empty," she admitted, in a ridiculously snooty voice, "but I guess that would be too much to wish for."

Alex arched an eyebrow. "Please, feel free to join me," she said dryly.

The corner of the girl's lips twitched up in what could have been amusement. She seemed to take extra care as she headed towards her seat, trying to make her steps as small and graceful as possible. It wasn't working. Alex politely ignored the awkward scene as she took in the hues of pink and orange as the sun set. She only wished her new carriage buddy was equally conscientious, but the blonde seemed to intent in studying Alex's face before seemingly reaching a decision.

"I'm Agatha Gamp. Pureblood," she declared proudly, hand outstretched.

Alex accepted it firmly – perhaps overtly so, because Agatha winced as they shook hands. "Alexandra Flortescue." She dutifully pretended to not see the look Agatha gave her.

"Who are your parents?" she all but demanded as she retracted her large hand.

Alex stifled a huff. Of course the first person she'd meet on her Hogwarts journey would be an uppity pureblood fanatic. "Julia Aoda and Florean Fortescue," she replied.

"Aoda?"

The urge to roll her eyes was becoming more and more irresistible. "Japanese."

"Ah. That explains it," she noted, her eyes scanning Alex once more.

She fixed Agatha an unimpressed look. I swear, she thought vindictively, if someone so much as murmurs 'exotic', they're going to see what an auror's daughter is capable of.

"Are you half?" Agatha asked bluntly.

"Yeah. My dad's Italian."

Agatha's lips twisted into a displeased pout. It was off-putting. "No, I meant, are you a half-blood?"

Alex was the embodiment of calm. "What does that matter?"

"Well, of course it matters!" spluttered Agatha. She ran a hand through her thick hair. "Purebloods are inherently better than half-bloods, and especially mudbloods," she hissed.

"Why?"

"Because- because our blood is purer and untainted! Our magic is much better than theirs!"

Alex executed a perfect head-tilt, the image of innocent ignorance. "But there have been skilled halfbloods and muggleborns throughout history, even more so than purebloods."

Indignant shock was still apparent on Agatha's long face, but it was slightly affected by no small amount of confusion. They spoke no more after that, both content to leave each to their own thoughts.

The train groaned as it came to a stop. Students who identified themselves as prefects ushered the others out onto the chilly platform. Alex shivered lightly as she stepped out. Before following the crowd, she turned to the doorway, where Agatha was delicately hopping off of the steps.

"See you," she offered.

Agatha frowned, but nodded. She hurried into the crowd without another word.

Spitfire mewed distastefully at the cold. Alex gave him one final pat before popping it in her jumper with his head sticking out from the top. She crossed her arms beneath her cat to keep him from sliding down before heading towards the general direction everyone was in.

"Ev'ry body here?" called a booming voice. "C'mon, c'mon, let's get to the boats!"

Hagrid easily towered over the little first years. With his height and seemingly stern features, he was a sight to behold, and quite a few of the children shuffled apprehensively behind him. Others glanced at his rugged clothing and scruffy hair with thinly veiled disgust. Alex, however, saw the way his brown eyes crinkled in delight, and she was willing to bet a few sickles that there was a smile hidden beneath that bushy beard of his.

The children followed Hagrid like obedient ducklings. They stepped off the platform and, a few seconds later, reached a vast lake riddled with stars. Alex wondered whether it was enchanted or if the stars were really that bright tonight.

Several small, wooden boats sat on the shore, waiting for the first years to jump in. Alex, like many others, waited until a few brave souls approached the boats first. Once it appeared completely safe, everyone was settled in quickly.

She barely registered the two others who had chosen the same boat. Instead, she focused on the body of water beneath her. It was practically pitch black, but she swore she could have seen something move down there. Merpeople? The giant squid? An excited smile tugged at her lips at the thought. Spitfire hissed.

The boys in her boat gasped. Alex glanced up, and her mouth fell open at the sight. A classically ancient castle peered down at them. The windows were lit with a warm yellow light, which seemed to welcome the first years as they approached. As she marvelled at the sight of Hogwarts, any and all apprehension she felt about her magical school life vanished from her mind. Nothing but pure excitement remained. For the first time in a long time, Alex felt like she was actually eleven.

Hagrid quickly and efficiently led them off the boats and up into the castle. He soon handed them off to the deputy headmistress, but not before wishing them good luck. He was probably aiming to assure the worried students, but he had the opposite effect, funnily enough.

As opposed the friendly aura Hagrid exuded, Professor McGonagall looked like the gravest person to ever live. Her lips were pressed together firmly as she stared down at them, silencing the murmurs in an instant. Alex hoped to be like her someday.

"Welcome, first years," she began. "In a few moments, I will lead you into the Great Hall over here. This is where you'll be Sorted into the following four houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. Once you've been sorted, you must sit down in the appropriate area. Understood?"

Heads bobbed up and down in cowed acceptance. Some of the students wore excited grins, while others were blank with consideration.

Professor McGonagall continued to explained about the Start-of-Term Feast before the great doors of the Great Hall opened with a great creak. There was no one near it, though, so someone – most likely Dumbledore – must have magicked it open. Delighted gasps ruffled through the crowd as they took in the grand sight. Even the shyest of children paid no mind to the hundreds of eyes on them as they stepped through the Great Hall, their attention too focussed on the enchanted ceiling above them.

Alex grinned. Yes, the stars really were that bright tonight.

As the first years were herded to the front of the Hall, McGonagall grabbed a stool with a generic witch's hat atop of it. Several students stared at it, nonplussed, and almost screamed when one of its folds parted into some semblance of a mouth. And then it began to sing. It was pretty good at it, too. The song was nothing to sneeze at – it must have been difficult composing it, making sure it rhymed as well as flowing smoothly to boot. Then again, the Hat probably did nothing 364 days of the year, so…

Polite applause followed the song, though Alex clapped more enthusiastically than appropriate. She received some looks for that, but they could suck it.

McGonagall unfurled a long piece of parchment and read the first name on the list. "Arthrid, Diana."

Being the first at anything was never easy. Poor Diana was practically trembling with nerves as she stepped up and sat on the stool. McGonagall lowered the Hat onto her brown hair, but it barely grazed the top of her head before declaring, "RAVENCLAW!"

Diana hopped off the stool, beaming. She quickly dashed to the table which was applauding enthusiastically, her tie changing colours as she did so.

"Axon, Roderick!"

And so it went, until, finally, "Fortescue, Alexandra!"

Alex took a deep breath. She went to decide her fate.

The Hat fit snugly on her head. "Oh my," it whispered. "This is certainly unusual."

She stiffened. No way.

"This is the first time I've encountered such a case. How did you do it?"

Hell if I know. Alex's frown deepened as their audience continued to stare. Shouldn't we get back to the sorting?

The Hat chuckled. "Very well. It would be unfair to place you in Ravenclaw, considering your advantage, even if your thirst for knowledge is there. Gryffindor? No, no, definitely not…" Wow, rude. "Your path will be much easier were you to be placed in Hufflepuff, but alas, your ambition and cunning make you a perfect candidate for… SLYTHERIN!"

What. The. Hell.

A long time ago, when she was a different person, Alex fantasised about joining the Slytherin House when she inevitably received her Hogwarts letter and travelled overseas to attend Britain's finest magical school. She was cold and sly, and so seemingly perfect for the House. But she never really understood the detrimental side-effects of becoming a Slytherin. The subtle harassment, the prejudice, the cruelty – it was everything she hated in people and more, all wrapped up in a neat package that she was forced to live with for the next seven years.

Maybe she'd be reborn in the Pokémon world in her next life.

Her days at Hogwarts passed by peacefully. Well, as peacefully as it could when one was a Slytherin. There was a lot of jeering and not-so-friendly teasing, but Alex could hold her own against the little snakes, and the occasionally haughty serpent. They weren't nice, but they weren't unbearably cruel either. She supposed she had her blood to thank for that.

She ended up bunking with Agatha, along with a brunette named Katherine Doge, and identical twins McKayla and Alicia Dulburry. The latter two tended to isolate themselves from everyone else, and Alex paid them no mind in response. Agatha, however, was torn between shooting Alex bemused and frustrated looks. She otherwise barely acknowledged her, instead socialising with the quiet and almost invisible Katherine. Which left Alex alone by default. Not like that was anything new.

Still, she coped. She did then and she was doing it now. The glaringly empty hole in her heart was filled with Spitfire and the plethora of books readily available in the library. It was far larger than the libraries she had seen in her past life, even more so than the university library her alma mater bragged about.

After devouring the books assigned for her classes, she began with the basics of the magical world. More often than not, the books devoured her. (Figuratively, of course. She didn't have access to the restricted section yet.) Time flew by each time she found an interesting book and, more often than not, she was forced to hurry back to her dorm before curfew fell. Madam Pince made it her job to go around the library warning students that their time was up, but Alex always chose the most secluded spots to huddle in. It was only when the shift in temperature sent a chill creeping down her spine that she realised night had fallen, quickly and quietly. One day, she was going to end up having to stay overnight; she just knew it.

"Tempus," she murmured at her wand. The time hovered over its tip. 21:08. Sighing, she cancelled the spell and lowered the stick. Too early for curfew, too late for dinner. That meant only one thing – the kitchens.

None of the books she had read so far actually listed the location of the kitchens, but that was what her prior knowledge was for. Well, sort of. She knew she had to tickle a painting of a pear, and it was on the same floor as the Hufflepuff dorms, but that was all she knew.

Alex thought furiously as she traversed the dimly lit hallways. Hogwarts really needed to do away with the archaic candles and move onto the more efficient lightbulbs, but nooo. The Founders just had to do make it so that all technology was reduced to fodder the moment it reached the grounds, didn't they?

Hey. That was an idea.

Alex paused in her steps and turned to the nearest painting. She chose the one that wasn't pretending to sleep (why would paintings need rest?) and cleared her throat softly. "Excuse me," she said, "but do you happen to know where the Hufflepuff dorms are?"

A woman in ancient clothing peered at her suspiciously. "Why?"

Alex lowered her head and fidgeted, playing the part of the nervous first year. "My friend's in Hufflepuff, and I was hoping to return her book." She opened her bag slightly, revealing one of the books she had borrowed from the library. "She needs it urgently for her essay, you see, and I don't know when I'll see her next."

She gave Alex one last look before coming to a decision. "Very well. But first, what is your name?"

"Oh. Um, Alex Fortescue." Her reaction was genuine this time.

"Fortescue, eh? Your ancestor was once headmaster here, did you know? He was the one who hired me."

Alex blinked. "You were a professor, ma'am?"

"Indeed. I taught History of Magic for a good decade before that lousy Binns mucked it all up."

Was death the reason she was replaced? Or did she simply quit herself? Curiosity niggled at her, but manners held her back.

"Well, young Miss Fortescue, the Hufflepuff common room is located in the basement of the castle. You must descend the stairs by the Great Hall in order to reach it. Now," she added, her voice growing stern, "if I hear about any mischief, I will be reporting you to the headmaster. Understood?"

Alex nodded obediently. "Thank you, ma'am. May I visit you again sometime"—she glanced at the copper tag on the frame—"Professor Galing?"

The middle-aged professor gazed at her with visible surprise before nodding curtly.

She smiled. "Good night."

Satisfied with her accomplishment, Alex dashed off. Her wand was still out, lighting the way with a lumos whenever the hallways grew too dim. It'd also be handy in case anyone fancied using an ickle first year as target practice. They were kids, sure, but wizards were barbaric like that.

When they said 'basement', Alex had pictured a dark, stuffy room filled with cluttered boxes. But this was Hogwarts, so of course it really meant a large room that was a whole floor in and of itself. It was no dimmer than the other floors, and there were several portraits snoozing away. To one end, she saw barrels which signalled the location of the Hufflepuff common room. Halfway between it and the staircase was a painting of a bowl of fruit.

It was unusually large, the painting. No one really appreciated a bowl of fruit that much. Besides, it practically radiated magic.

That was something she was quick to learn growing up. She'd been raised in a magical environment, so it wasn't until her first day at St. Grogory's did she realise how…off everything felt. After she returned home from her first day, the air itself seemed to buzz with energy. She dismissed it after a few seconds, but then it happened again the next day. Once she concentrated, she realised why it was happening: she was becoming sensitive to magic. St. Grogory's was appallingly devoid of magic (save Harry, herself, and a few other people, surprisingly enough), so returning to her magical home was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on her.

Through chance, Alex discovered that her focus improved if she had her wand in hand. Now, if she concentrated, she could pinpoint objects and places which were brimming with magic. It was a bit harder to do so in Hogwarts, since it was practically the embodiment of magic, but in quieter places like the basement, it was much more doable.

Feeling oddly embarrassed, Alex tickled the pear in the painting. It giggled – and that wasn't frightening in the least – before defying the laws of physics by transforming into a very solid, very tangible doorknob. She hesitantly twisted it open and stepped into the newfound door.

If she thought the basement was huge, it had nothing on the kitchens. It was easily the size of the Great Hall, if not bigger, and was abuzz with activity even in this time of night. A handful of house-elves stopped and stared at her, but most returned to their business soon after. Alex turned to the nearest one, a little thing who was staring at her unabashedly.

"Hi," she said.

"H-Hello," it squeaked. "What is we can do for Miss…?"

"Fortescue. Alex Fortescue." It felt weird being called by her surname after almost two decades of using her first name, but when in Rome… "I was actually wondering if I could grab a bite? I missed dinner."

"Oh," the house-elf murmured in understanding. "Okay. Kippy will be fetchings Miss Fortescue some leftovers."

"Appreciated," she said, smiling. "I'll just have a seat over there."

Alex strode over to one of the four long tables, separate from the tools and utensils of the kitchen. 'Kitchen' was a bit inaccurate, she thought. 'Dining hall' was more like it, since the room was split into two – the part where all the cooking and plating actually took place, and then the tables, which were obviously connected to the House tables in the Great Hall above. It was an amazing system.

When Kippy placed a plate of roast chicken, mash and peas in front of her, Alex was half-afraid it would disappear into the Great Hall. The elves had probably cancelled the magic, though, since dining times were long gone.

After thanking Kippy (and waiting for the house-elf to finish stammering through a reply) Alex ate her in meal in silence, with the occasional interruption from a shyly curious elf.

It was much better than eating in the Great Hall. Though she was surrounded by many more people in the Hall, they barely acknowledged her presence. The house-elves, however, did.

Well, she knew where she was going to have her meals from now on.