A/N: Debated waiting 2 months to post this in Oct, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting too long! Enjoy :)

Chapter Four

Halloween

After that day with the flying lesson, Alex became more aware of Duncan. Whenever she showed up for breakfast and lunch—but not dinner, never dinner—and sat down at the end of the Slytherin table, he would move down to sit on the end of the Ravenclaw table. She only noticed this when he tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump.

She turned around warily, only to be pleasantly surprised by the sight of Duncan's smiling face. He didn't talk to her much during meals, merely saying hi, bye, or commenting on something or the other during the lulls in conversation he shared with his fellow Ravenclaws.

Alex was glad for that. While she appreciated, and even enjoyed, Duncan's camaraderie, she wasn't too comfortable with spending much time with children. Their wavelengths were just too different. They worried about trivial things, gossiped plenty, and were just too…immature. Some were cute, though, she could admit; they'd probably become more bearable as time passed.

Duncan also made an effort to sit next to her in the classes they shared, which was fairly often. The first time he did so was during Transfiguration, and she was sitting in her usual seat at the back of the Slytherin half of the room. Duncan walked in, saw her, and made a beeline for the seat beside her. His redheaded friend looked conflicted, but eventually sat on Duncan's other side, ignoring her completely.

This was the first time both houses had seen such a display. Whispers broke out, and more than one raised eyebrow was directed their way. Alex rolled her eyes at the dramatics and, though Duncan looked uneasy, he did his best to ignore it.

Transfiguration was one of the most difficult subjects, in Alex's opinion. It was hard imagining inanimate objects as anything more than that, and even more so when she actually had to change it into something. Fortunately, because they were first years, they were focusing on nothing more turning an object into another object for now, as opposed to an actual living, breathing lifeform.

Alex stared long and hard at the leaf on her desk. Professor McGonagall had explained the task to them, providing them with an elaborate run-down on the theory, a demonstration as well as an illustration and notes on the chalkboard at the front of the class. Despite all this, Alex struggled.

She turned to her tablemates. Duncan was in the process of transfiguring his leaf into parchment, while his friend was sitting back, relaxed, his parchment already complete.

Her eyes widened. "How did you do that?" she blurted.

Duncan looked up, but didn't seem surprised at his friend's work. "Grant here's a Transfiguration whiz," he grumped. "Or should I say Transfiguration wizard?"

Alex snorted at the pun. "Nice," she murmured to Duncan. To Grant, she said, "I'm Alexandra Fortescue."

"Grant Page," Duncan's friend replied.

What a…normal name. It was nice and simple, unlike the convoluted and almost ridiculous names of those in her house. Grant was definitely a muggleborn, then, or a half-blood.

Alex stopped herself short. Was she really beginning to put stock in the whole blood status deal?

"So," she said, derailing that train of thought, "you're quite skilled at Transfiguration. How do you do it?"

"You're asking me for help?" asked Grant, bewildered. "Why?"

Alex frowned. "Am I not meant to?" she asked cautiously, but she had a sinking suspicion…

"Well, you're a Slytherin. You should be, I don't know, too proud to ask for help – from someone in another House, no less."

"That's stupid," she said flatly. Grant bristled, offended by the insult to his Ravenclaw intelligence. She ignored it. "If I need help, I'm going to ask…unless it's from someone I despise." She felt her lip curl as bitterness seeped into her words. "This House rivalry thing is ridiculous."

"Very…inspiring," noted the stern voice of Professor McGonagall. "But perhaps save it for after the lesson?" She nodded approvingly at Duncan's and Grant's efforts before moving along.

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping her embarrassment would fade.

"Right," Grant said suddenly. "I'll help you."

She brightened. "Thank you."

"So, before you try the spell, you have to explicitly picture what you want your final result to be. This task is about shaping a leaf into a sheet of parchment, right? How thick is the parchment? What about the length? Is it smooth or crinkled? Think about it, and then cast the spell."

Alex nodded in understanding. What he said wasn't too different from McGonagall's explanation, but it suddenly seemed much clearer.

She reached a conclusion herself: she needed to stop thinking like a muggle, and start thinking like a witch. For most muggles, it was pretty impossible to turn one thing into another by simply waving a hand and saying the magic words, but for them? It was nothing.

She…was no longer a muggle. She was a witch now. That life was gone.

With a shuddering breath, Alex cleared her mind of everything but her desired end result. A simple piece of parchment, no bigger than an A4 sheet, and perfectly neat and flat. The image remained in her brain as she picked up her wand and waved it at her leaf. It was a perfect replica of her imagined image.

She beamed. "Thanks!" she told Grant.

He blinked, startled, before smiling slightly himself.

Professor McGonagall, too, expressed her surprise when she came around once more. She put two and two together, and inspected Grant closely. "A point to Ravenclaw, Mr Page," she said, before striding away.

Grant breathed a sigh of relief as she left. Duncan simply looked excited.

Alex took a chance. She glanced at Grant and sent a wink his way. "You're welcome," she said cheekily.

Grant rolled his eyes in response, but the corner of his mouth was definitely lifted in amusement.

Maybe life at Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all.

October 31st was a special day for Alex. It was the day her old life ended, and the day her new one began. According to the midwife, she had been born at 12am on the dot, just as the 30th became the 31st. Her parents joked that that was how they knew she was a witch.

Halloween at Hogwarts was purely magnificent. Granted, she never really celebrated it in any way, since it was one of the busiest days of the year for her parents (there was always that one group of wrongdoers who used the costumes to disguise themselves as they wreaked havoc, and people of all ages really craved ice cream and other sweets at that time). Instead, they celebrated her birthday on the 30th. Still, one couldn't help but appreciate the live, if conjured, bats diving between, over and under the orange streamers decorating the Great Hall. Even the sky overhead was appropriately spooky, covered in thick clouds which parted just enough to reveal the full moon shining above.

Keeping the day in mind, Alex made an effort to arrive early to dinner for once. It paid off, too. The moments the heavy doors parted, revealing a dimly lit hall illuminated only by several jack-o-lanterns. As the first round of students entered, the torches and streamers on the walls glowed a vibrant orange, lighting up the hall eerily.

Excited chatter arose from the students as they settled into their seats and dug in. In addition to the typical candy corn and other sweets, the house elves had included sausages which looked like dirty disjointed fingers, mashed potatoes piled up into semblances of white ghosts with peas as eyes, as well as pies with extra stretches of pastry emerging from the centre like the spindly legs of a spider. Alex was pretty sure she saw someone frothing at the mouth at the sight of it all.

Alex swallowed another spoonful of pumpkin soup as she scratched Spitfire between the ears. She had taken to carrying him around ever since she noticed people eying her black cat oddly. Even now she spied the occasional glance her way, so it was probably best if she left now before anyone decided to point a hex her way. Wizards and their superstitions…

She didn't mind too much. The novelty of the feast grew a little duller the longer she stayed, and there was far too much sugar on the plates before her for her tastes. Also, Spitfire needed his own dinner.

Throwing back the last dregs of pumpkin juice, Alex nicked an over-sized rainbow lollipop before standing. She threw a look towards Duncan and Grant, wondering if she should say goodbye, but they were busy gorging themselves and squee-ing ecstatically with their friends.

She had just taken a step when a chilling voice behind her said, "Leaving so soon?"

Her bemusement heightened to bewilderment as she locked eyes with the iconic Slytherin ghost. The Bloody Baron watched her, his solemn eyes tinged with curiosity. They had the attention of everyone within a three metre radius of them. To her knowledge, the Baron never spoke to the students, let alone a nobody like her.

"Um, yes," she stammered. It was one thing being addressed by Sir Nicholas, but the Bloody Baron? He wasn't someone she ever wanted to encounter in an isolated hallway.

The Baron followed her in lowering his voice. "Did you know, Miss Fortescue"—because of course he knew her name—"that Halloween is a night wherein the rift between the living and the dead is less…stable?"

"It doesn't surprise me," she said carefully.

"I see." He looked at her imploringly, his transparent eyes containing a warning she had yet to decipher. "Take care, then." At her nod, he sunk into the ground, as if he had never appeared in the first place.

But he had. And the wide-eyed stares and curious, sharp gazes stabbing into her were proof of that. Alex walked quickly out of the Great Hall, wishing with every fibre in her being that she had the ability to sink away, too.

The tension in her shoulders began to seep away once she could no longer see nor hear the Great Hall. She patted Spitfire, glad she brought him along with her. Pets were the best form of stress-relief.

They were also good foe-glasses. As such, when Spitfire grew still, so did Alex.

They approached her silently. That was only natural, as ghosts could remain as silent as death when they wanted to. From the ceiling, the floor, the walls, they floated towards her with unnerving tenacity. Spitfire hissed a warning at them, but the ethereal beings paid him no mind as they continued to close in on her. Her cat leapt out of her arms and ran down the nearest corridor, leaving Alex frozen in the middle of the hallway.

Goosebumps prickled against her robes. The torches stuck to the walls had shifted from warm orange to an icy blue the moment the ghosts appeared. She had learned in school – muggle school, not magical, because there was no room for menial things such as science here – that blue flames were meant to be much hotter than normal flames, but she supposed normalcy and logic was thrown out the window when the undead were involved.

She made an aborted movement to the left, but there was no use: they were definitely surrounding her now. "What do you want?" she spat, shivering as they drifted closer.

"You smell like death," murmured a portly ghost. His mouth was stained with what she hoped was berry juice, or even mud. She didn't want to think about the gorier alternative. "How are you alive?"

Fear clawed at her throat. Something told her it was wise to keep quiet about her rebirth. Alex searched for an escape, but the ghosts were locked around her in a perfect circle. Aside from the one who had spoken, there were a few nuns, a highwayman on a very still horse, a ragged man in chains, and a young woman with a knife jammed into her chest, right where her heart would be.

"Tell us!" she screeched, making the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. "I was killed before I could properly live! Help me!"

Alex's heart pounded furiously in her chest. They were just ghosts, right? They couldn't touch her – couldn't hurt her. Emboldened, Alex made an attempt to break free by running through the ghost. She threw her arm forward, as if to push a physical body away. Rather than feeling the familiar coldness, though, they burned. She retreated with a hiss, her left hand gingerly supporting her burnt right. Even though there was no visible evidence of what just happened, she could still feel the simmering heat beneath her skin.

The ghosts used this newfound information to their advantage. They closed in on her, either pleading or threatening her to help them, their moans and screams the only things she could hear. Unable to do anything else, Alex crouched down, hugging her knees to her chest and burying her head in them. Maybe if she pretended they weren't there, they would leave her alone.

The first of the ghosts had just begun to reach out for her, when a clear voice demanded, "What's going on?"

Alex looked up. The circle of ghosts parted slightly as they turned to check out the interruption.

There! Her chance!

Desperation boosted her as she dove through the slight opening, paying little mind to the way her sides seared when she grazed the ghosts. They were on her tail in a second, but hesitated when she threw herself in a heap next to the boy who had intervened.

He was a brunette decked out in Hufflepuff robes, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. Despite his uncertainty, though, he still kept his wand pointed at the group of ghosts glaring at them. "Leave," he said calmly, his voice quivering only slightly. "While it's true ghosts are impervious to numerous spells, I know a few that can affect you."

It was funny, in a way, watching the ghosts hesitate before a pre-teen. Then again, it was probably the weapon he held in his hand that stilled them. The rotund ghost, perhaps their leader, clicked his tongue and shot Alex one last look before skulking away. The others followed, vanishing as if they never existed in the first place.

Maybe it was the candy overdose, but Alex felt like throwing up. Before she could up-chuck her recent dinner, a familiar black cat dove onto her lap. Spitfire nuzzled her arm, purring up a storm as Alex automatically stroked him.

"Smart cat, she is," said the boy. "Wouldn't stop clawing and biting me until I followed her."

Alex took a deep breath, her panic abating as she sighed. "Spitfire's a boy," she corrected absently, scratching said cat's head. "And a bloody smart one, too."

"I'm Cedric," he said. "Cedric Diggory. Are you all right?"

Cedric Diggory? Why…did that name sound so familiar? Alex hid her frown as she rose, scooping Spitfire in her arms as she did so. "I'm okay. My name's Alexandra Fortescue. Thank you," she added lowly, "for helping me."

"You're welcome," he said kindly. "If you don't mind, can I ask what was happening?"

Alex hugged Spitfire close, and he fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't know. But I'm glad you came when you did. I'm surprised you weren't at the Halloween Feast, though."

"I was actually on my way there," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "Thought I'd take a quick nap after class, and the next thing I know, dinner's already started."

"Naps are evil," she agreed. She was forced to elaborate when Cedric gave her an odd look. "When I woke after my first nap, I thought I'd slept through the entire day and got ready for school. I was almost out the door when my dad was asking what I was doing." She sighed. "It turned out it was still the same evening. He couldn't stop laughing." Jerk.

So was Cedric, judging by the way he was grinning. Alex tried to give him a flat look, but his joy was contagious, and she couldn't help but crack a smile herself.

She recalled Cedric's words from before, an intrigued expression blooming on her face. "You said you knew some spells against ghosts, right? Can you tell me some?"

"Oh, sure," he said, surprised. "But, ah, I am a tad hungry…"

She grimaced. While food was indeed of the utmost importance, she didn't fancy returning to the Great Hall tonight. She smirked as an idea struck her. "Have you ever been to the kitchens?"

Intrigued, Cedric admitted that he hadn't ever been to the kitchens before, and a mischievous look appeared in her eyes before she led the way. They chatted as they walked, discussing the charms and jinxes he knew that were effective in dealing with ghosts. Unfortunately, he didn't know any exorcism spells – did those even exist? – but he knew a few which were unpleasant to the incorporeal beings, whether harmful or simple repellents.

"Like bug spray," she noted, amused. Cedric didn't know what bug spray was, but he smiled nonetheless.

She looked nicer when she was in a good mood, he decided. Less sharp. He had caught sight of her when she was surrounded by her housemates. She never smiled around them. Other than that, and the fact that she was one of the first years whom the Sorting Hat took the longest to deal with, Cedric knew very little of Alexandra Fortescue.

"You're oddly pleasant," he admitted.

Alexandra arched an eyebrow. "You sure know how to compliment someone," she said dryly.

Cedric flushed. "No, no, it's just…" He rubbed the nape of his neck. "My experiences with Slytherins aren't the best." That was putting it lightly. Though their rivalry wasn't nearly as bad as it was between the Snakes and the Lions, the Badgers were constantly snubbed and dismissed. It was depressing.

"I'll bet," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Huh, not exactly the embodiment of house pride, was she? "A word of advice: don't generalise. Not all Slytherins are bad, not all Gryffindors are good, not all Ravenclaws are smart, and…" She glanced at him. "Not all Hufflepuffs are fodder."

Cedric eyed her curiously. "Definitely odd," he joked.

Alexandra let out a laugh and, judging by her surprised expression, it wasn't intentional. Cedric puffed up with pride. He got the feeling she didn't laugh much.

"This is it," she said, halting before a painting of a bowl of fruit.

Cedric eyed it in confusion. "This is what?" He passed this painting every day, as did the rest of the Hufflepuffs, as they exited their common room and headed off for the day.

"The entrance to the kitchens."

"Through…the painting?"

"Well, you're almost right," she allowed, bringing her arm to the painting of the bowl of fruit. She began to tickle the pear. "It's not like the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ though. It's more like a door."

The second-year flinched as the pear began to giggle. That was eerie. Fruit shouldn't be allowed to make those noises, two-dimensional or no. The green fruit morphed into a tangible door knob before his very eyes, and yeah, it was very door-like.

Alex pulled it outwards, allowing Cedric to stay in the centre as the kitchen came into view. "Welcome to Hogwarts's kitchen," she greeted, smirking slightly as the dumbfounded expression undoubtedly planted on his face.

He recovered quickly, murmuring a quiet, "Neat" as he soaked in the place. There were dozens of house-elves running about, and only a few of them empty-handed for the moment. One of the latter scurried over to them, clothed in several tea towels tied together.

"Hi, Kippy," Alexandra said kindly. "Are you busy?"

Kippy the elf shook her head furiously, causing her ears to flap about. "Never too busy for Miss Fortescue!"

"You're sweet," she said, smiling. "This is Cedric Diggory. Do you mind grabbing some food for us?"

Kippy glanced at Cedric curiously, but hastily avoided his gaze when he nodded in greeting. She focused her attention on Alexandra instead. "Yes, Miss," it agreed, before bustling away.

"Was that your elf?" Cedric asked, as they searched for a seat. There were four long tables to the side, resembling the house tables in the Great Hall, but Alexandra steered away from them.

"No. Why?"

"Oh. You just seemed very close."

Alexandra tilted her head in bemusement. "Close? How?"

Cedric thought about how to arrange his answer as they settled onto a couple of stools placed before a counter. "Most wizards and witches aren't nearly as friendly towards house-elves as you, especially to ones they don't own."

"That seems a bit sad," she said, tugging at her earlobes. Cedric briefly wondered if she had piercings, but when she pulled her hand away, her ear was undecorated. "They slave over the kitchens, the bathrooms, the laundry rooms for us and yet most of them are treated as if they can't think or feel for themselves. It's not right."

Kippy chose that moment to arrive, holding up a heaping plate of food over her wrinkly head. She wasn't alone, as two more elves arrived, each bearing a similarly large plate of different food – or should he say sweets? Halloween was the best.

To be frank, Cedric was tempted to argue back with Alexandra. He wanted to tell her how house-elves were fine with their treatment, especially his grandparents', as the Diggorys were much kinder than other wizarding families. However, his words died in his throat when he noted the way the elves flocked shyly yet eagerly towards Alexandra, who was smiling at them as if they were a litter of puppies.

The elves only stayed for several seconds. Before they passed him, Cedric smiled politely and said, "Thank you." They bowed, flustered, and hurried off.

Alexandra said nothing, but a pleased smile was stretching across her face. "So, Cedric, you're probably wondering why we aren't sitting at those infinitely comfier tables. Well, they're actually charmed to correspond with the house tables up above in the Great Hall, and…"

It was one of the most interesting dinners Cedric had had in a while.