Chapter Eight

New Year, New Me?

Alex eyed the train with distaste. After what seemed like an impossibly joyous week with her parents and Harry, the prospect of going back to the castle-shaped prison was far from tempting. Only the thought of the library forced her to put one foot in front of the other.

It didn't take long to find an empty compartment – she was insanely early, after all. Alex cracked open the book her dad had given her for Christmas. It was fairly thick, detailing the difficulty and steps it took to create one's own spell. A bit high-end for a typical first year, but Alex was far from so, and her parents were vaguely aware of that.

"Besides," added Dad, a cheerful smile on his face, "plenty of Fortescues have created their own spells, so you can too, Alex!" Creating magical ice cream flavours was a surprisingly tough ordeal, it seemed.

Harry had still been asleep while they exchanged their less-than-normal gifts, so they were free to do so without fear of breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. Not that it counted if the subject himself was Harry, but she would rather her parents remained in the dark – for now.

Mum had given her a book as well, though it was on defensive spells that weren't taught at school.

"A bit crass," she had admitted, nursing some eggnog, "but it'll get the job done."

For a frightening moment, Alex wondered if her parents somehow knew about the bullying incident at school. Their expressions didn't hint as much, so she was forced to tuck away the idea and calm herself down. Paranoia wasn't exactly an activity she'd like to indulge in during Christmastime.

Alex managed to annotate twenty pages before the door slid open.

"Cedric," she said lamely. "Hi."

Her friend smiled. "Finally found you, Alex. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why?" she asked, honestly confused. Cedric had plenty of friends, and sitting in a compartment full of people he knew and liked was much preferable to staying with her and those who couldn't find seats elsewhere.

"Because I wanted to," Cedric replied with typical childish obliviousness. He politely declined her offer to help him pop his luggage up on the shelf. "How was your holiday?" he asked, wiggling a finger through the grated door of Spitfire's carrier.

"Good," she said, smiling. "Thank you for the present."

When Cedric grinned, Alex could suddenly see why he'd become such a heart-throb in several years' time. "Did you like it?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah. I've practised some of the spells at home, so I'm curious about what the results'll be like."

Cedric laughed, his brown eyes dancing with glee as he imagined the reactions of her future victims. Like her mum, Cedric had bought her a book on defensive magic. Well, it'd be more accurate to call them offensive, since they were jinxes and hexes that could be used against those who raised their wands against her. He had attained her address before the break, explaining that he would owl her in the meantime. She had been expecting letters, not a Christmas present.

Her smiled dimmed somewhat. "I'm sorry for not getting you a better gift," she admitted. When the owl had arrived, she exchanged her package for one filled with sweets from Honeydukes as well as coupons for her dad's shop.

"Don't be. Free ice cream is much better than some of the other presents I received," he claimed. Noting her curious expression, he elaborated: "My mates gave me the usual – Christmas cards, quidditch merch, chocolate frogs, jelly beans, and even acid pops. Dad was so mad when he saw that last one, but it gave Mum and me a bit of a laugh."

She grinned. "Did you end up eating the acid pops, though?"

Cedric replied by sticking out his tongue. A small hole had burned through the muscle, confirming that he had indeed indulged in the oddly popular sweet. She rolled her eyes at the sight, even as her smile grew.

They were still chatting by the time the train took off. Alex capitalised on one of the lulls in conversation by glancing out the window as the view rolled by. It was just as lovely as the first time around.

Her inner peace was short-lived. The door was thrown open for the second time, and the compartment was suddenly bombarded by a gaggle of Hufflepuffs. It was easy to tell who they were – the joy they regarded Cedric with as well as the disdain they aimed at her were dead giveaways.

"What're you doing here?" one of the shorter ones asked, a sneer on his face.

"Yeah," added another, "leave Ced alone."

Wow. They weren't even at Hogwarts yet and she was already being harassed. The Hufflepuffs seemed to have regained their confidence over the break.

Alex really didn't want to deal with all this right now. Instead of replying, she sank into her seat and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

"Wha— Hey! Wake up, snake!"

"Let me. Alama—!"

Alex's eyes were open in an instant. Her wand shot out of the sleeve of her jacket, a counter on the tip of her tongue when she registered the sight before her. Cedric was standing in front of her, forming a wall that separated her from the others. From what she could see of his face, he didn't look happy.

"Enough," he said firmly. "I know Professor Sprout told us it's important for us to look out for each other, but Alex is my friend."

"But she's a Slytherin," hissed the girl, her wand raised.

"That shouldn't matter," countered Cedric. "If you think Alex is bad because of her House, then it must also mean that we're as lazy and untalented as people think we are."

Dissent rippled through the small group of children. Some had redirected their scowls from her to Cedric, and Alex fought to swallow the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Cedric shouldn't have to lose his friends over her.

"It's okay," she said, gaining everyone's attention. Alex slid her wand back up her sleeve, where her recently purchased holster kept it latched on to her arm. "I'll leave. See you, Cedric."

She didn't give him any time to refute. With as much dignity as she could muster, Alex strode out of the crowded compartment, Spitfire's carrier under her arm.

Fortunately, the train wasn't nearly as crowded as it was in the beginning of the school year. More than one carriage was empty, so Alex headed to the very last one and made herself comfortable once more. She cuddled Spitfire close to her, but other than him, she was completely alone. And that was okay.

School continued as per usual, though the shift in seasons brought a small change to the lessons. Several professors took advantage of the fairer weather and taught outside; Herbology expanded past the usual greenhouses to the greens of Hogwarts. Professor Sprout had sent them on a plant-themed treasure hunt, where they had to gather the appropriate plant based on the hints provided. Alex took a moment to be grateful that Professor Sprout hadn't been the Head of Ravenclaw – otherwise, the relatively simple hints would have undoubtedly become riddles.

Then again, it would've saved them a lot of awkwardness. Professor Sprout had overlooked the fact that there was an uneven amount of students among the first-year Slytherins and Gryffindors, which wouldn't normally be an issue, but this activity was designed to be pair work. As everyone chose their partners, Alex stayed on the sidelines and found herself alone. Professor Sprout grew flustered, but Alex managed a small smile for the anxious woman and assured her she would be fine on her own. The Herbology professor's frown told her she wasn't fond of the idea, but there was no other choice. Alex worked best on her own anyway. In the end, she was the first to return, and received ten points as a result. They might've been pity points, but Alex didn't care. It was fine.

She quickly faded into the background. Now that she was no longer hanging with one of the more notable students in the lower years, she slipped under the radar. Other than the professors, the only other people who acknowledged her presence were Grant and Duncan, and even that was limited to their shared classes and occasionally the library. Alex didn't eat in the Great Hall anymore.

One night, she was jolted awake by a particularly cruel nightmare. She forced her breaths to calm down as she slowly extracted herself from her covers, careful not to jostle her sleeping cat. Her exit went undetected.

There was one problem – where to go now? She could stay in the common room, but it was creepier than ever in the middle of the night. The torches were dim, allowing the perpetual green glow to emanate eerily. Though it was spring, and though there were temperature charms controlling the area, Alex felt a shiver crawl down her spine. No to the common room, then.

She sighed. She really didn't want to wander the castle at night, for a multitude of reasons—losing points being just one of them—but she didn't have much of a choice. There was no way she could fall back asleep, and she'd soon have a heart attack than stay in the common room this late, so the hallways would have to do.

A simple Disillusionment spell quelled most of her fears of being caught. It didn't make one invisible, exactly, but repelled people from looking too closely in the castor's direction. If they did, they could see the faint outline of someone or something, like a less convincing chameleon. Or so said the second-year Charms book she had read, anyway.

Alex stepped quickly and lightly through the castle. She wasn't cocky enough to believe the spell was foolproof, even with the darkness of the night cloaking her movements. Prefects, teachers, ghosts, paintings – anyone could spot her, and she wasn't looking forward to having to explain her actions.

The last bunch probably wasn't much to worry about, now that she thought about it. They all seemed to be sleeping soundly (and loudly) in the comfort of their frames. Alex wondered if it was real. Paintings weren't actual people, after all, so did they really need respite?

Her answer came in the form of an old History of Magic professor. Professor Galing blinked her eyes open the moment Alex removed the spell, bemusement replacing her initial surprise. "Miss Fortescue?" she murmured quietly, glancing at the painting around her. No one stirred. "What are you doing here at this time?"

"I couldn't sleep," she explained, frowning. "How have you been, professor? Anything odd happen around here?"

The middle-aged witch mirrored her frown. "Not much, no. A few pranks here and there – one of the little buggers tainted my painting! The nerve of them," she whispered furiously.

Alex smiled, relaxing gradually as she Professor Galing's rants to wash over. She hummed and 'ah'ed at the appropriate moments, smiling here or frowning there (mostly the latter) when something odd piqued her attention.

"Sorry, what was that?" she interrupted, startled. "Professor Farlah did what?"

Professor Galing appeared displeased by the disruption, but she answered nevertheless. "He ran past here, looking like he had lost his marbles."

Poor man. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor must've been slowly unravelling from his time here. Underage wizards and witches were already chaotic enough by themselves, but placed in a situation where dangerous spells were actually encouraged? Forget about Voldemort's curse, the job itself seemed hellish enough.

"All due to that ruddy curse," muttered the painting.

Opportunity struck in the least likely of places. "Curse?" she asked, feigning mild interest.

The expression Professor Galing adopted was similar to that of a child caught misbehaving. "Ah, yes," she began uncomfortably. "It is said that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself put a curse on the position. Why? Perhaps it would make it easier for him knowing that wizards and witches would be unable to protect themselves from his favourite kind of magic."

"Dark magic," she muttered. Alex asked another question, hoping to wheedle out some more information from the bored professor. After all, an alibi for her knowledge was extremely valuable.

The sun began to rise once Professor Galing had talked herself dry. Bidding her informant farewell, Alex dragged herself back to the dorm. Hopefully by now the common room looked less like something straight out of a haunted house.

A tremendous grumble from her stomach forced her to change paths. Shooting the snickering portraits a dirty glare, Alex hurried towards the kitchens.

Though the elves had only just begun to make breakfast, one managed to break free and ask for her order. She smiled as she recognised which elf it was – Kippy, one of the few who always catered to her needs. When the elf wasn't too busy, Alex invited Kippy to talk to her. Thankfully, she wasn't as messed up as Dobby, and responded with some sobbing the first time she had asked.

"Is Miss here for breakfast?" asked Kippy as she twiddled her thumbs.

Alex nodded. "No need to rush. I don't mind waiting." She knew her words were futile, though, as Kippy promptly and firmly denied such an offense and hurried off to business.

As she waited, Alex watched the elves hustle and bustle as they prepared enough for the small army that was the Hogwarts population. Pots and pans drifted through the air, as well as several plates. They all steered clear of her by now, so she didn't have to duck her head like the first time she had discovered the kitchens.

Her food was ready within minutes. Kippy hefted a plateful of hash browns, eggs and bacon, as well as wholemeal toast covered thinly in butter and jam. She had a different meal every morning, but this was one of her favourites.

Before digging in, though Alex smiled and thanked Kippy like she always did. But she had something special with her this time.

"Can I give you something, Kippy?"

The already-wide eyes of the house-elf grew even larger. "S'not clothes, is it, Miss? Please no clothes!"

"No, no, nothing of the sort." Leaning down, Alex tied a turquoise ribbon by the knot of Kippy's makeshift wash-cloth robe. "It's just a little trinket," she explained, sitting back up. "A thank-you for being so kind and helpful."

As far as house-elves went, Kippy wasn't quite as emotional as one would expect, but Alex's gift was too much for her. She began to sob and wail, making Alex flinch. She jumped right out of her stool and awkwardly patted the elf, trying to soothe her in any way possible. Gradually, the sniffles died down into something more manageable, and—after numerous thank-you's—Kippy returned to work.

"That was kind of you."

Closing her eyes briefly, Alex straightened herself. "I know a thing or two about kindness," she admitted, turning around to face Cedric.

"Yeah, I eventually figured that out." The corners of Cedric's lips tugged up into a small smile. "Would you mind some company?"

"You're always welcome, Cedric."

Cedric's smile grew. He closed the door-slash-portrait and walked over, sitting in the seat beside her. It reminded her of their very first meeting. Cedric must've been thinking the same thing, because a look of nostalgia washed over him.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, twirling her fork between her fingers.

"Honestly, I was at first. It's upsetting when one of your close friends cuts you out almost completely, you know?" Boy, did she. "But as the weeks went on, I calmed down and thought things through a little." Cedric kept her gaze locked with his. "You weren't ignoring me because you wanted to, were you?"

Slowly, Alex nodded. "You're well-liked, Cedric. You have so many friends, and our friendship would only cause you trouble. So it was better for everyone that it stopped."

"Not for everyone. It wasn't better for you."

Alex smiled. "That doesn't matter."

"Stop that." Cedric's hands clenched into fists on his lap. "You can't think like that, Alex."

But it was true; she was a nobody in every sense. She had no place in this world, in the grand scheme of things. She could count on one hand the amount of people who actually cared for her, and even that wasn't much. Her parents were almost too busy for her, Duncan and Grant were merely classmates, Harry would have so many more precious people that would soon outweigh her immensely, and Cedric? He was the Champion of Hogwarts itself.

Some of this must have broken through her forced smile. Cedric scowled—an action Alex didn't think the boy was even capable of—and grabbed her shoulders with a strength that belied his quidditch training.

"You matter to me," he said, face serious and sombre. "You're my friend."

"And the Hufflepuffs?"

Cedric finally broke the stare-off. He gazed uncertainly at his hands as he retracted them from her person. "I don't know," he said, his voice soft with honest confusion. "Sometimes I'm sure of everything, that they're my friends and I can trust them, but then I mention you and their reactions aren't… well, they aren't pleasant."

She didn't like seeing Cedric like this, so torn and helpless. "I don't want to make you choose between us." If anything, she wanted him to choose them. "And I don't want anything to happen because of me. So, how about this? We go incognito."

"What do you mean?"

This time, Alex's smile was genuine. "What do you know about the Room of Requirement?"