A/N: You guys are so sweet! Your reviews honestly have me tearing up sometimes. :')

Chapter Ten

Midnight Mania

"Alex!" called a familiar squeaky voice.

Alex switched her gaze from her book to Harry and Ron, who were both walking rather quickly towards her. "What's up?" she said easily.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," replied an irritable Ron. "You're never in the Great Hall. Do you even eat?"

"I survive by consuming the souls of my victims," she said nonchalantly, grabbing the letter Harry was holding out for her. She read it, ignoring the way Ron paled.

It was from Hagrid, asking Harry to come down for tea and tell him about his first week. So sweet. However, what really caught her attention was the post-script, which asked Harry if he knew anyone with the initials A.F. who owned a black cat called Spitfire.

Alex exhaled sharply. "I was wondering where he was," she murmured. Her pet, like most cats, was a free spirit, roaming around the castle and its grounds. She only saw him after class, when he waited for her by the kitchens, so she could feed him and carry him back to the dorm, where he would sleep by her feet.

Harry took back the letter, folding it neatly and slipping it into his bag. "Ron and I are heading there right now. Did you want to come?"

"Sure," she said, glancing at Ron. "Unless there's a problem with that?"

Ron ducked down to hide his blush, but the pink tips of his ears were a dead giveaway.

Harry shook his head. "No problem. We've agreed you're nothing like a Slytherin."

Alex gave him a look.

This time, it was Harry's turn to redden in embarrassment. "We've run into a few bad apples."

"Malfoy," spat Ron, scowling.

Ah. Alex sighed in understanding. "He's a brat," she agreed. Shaking her head, she packed away her book and stood up. "But enough about him. To Hagrid's?"

Hagrid's home wasn't too far from the library. The shack was mostly made of wood, and seemed a little small for a half-giant. Why hadn't anyone—especially Dumbledore—used an enlargement spell? It shouldn't be too difficult, considering every magical tent was secretly bigger on the inside. Or perhaps it only worked with certain materials?

When Harry knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang – back!"

Hagrid managed to open the door with one hand, the other keeping hold of Fang's collar as the great dog struggled to tackle the children and welcome them with wet, slobbery kisses.

"Make yerselves at home," he welcomed, closing the door and finally releasing Fang. It bounded towards Ron and started licking his ears.

Disgusted, Ron managed to nudge the dog away. Alex accepted him with open arms. His tail thudded against the hut loudly as he dragged his tongue over her face enthusiastically.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." He glanced at Alex curiously, his eyes lingering on the proud green tie peeking out from beneath her robe.

"Alexandra Fortescue," she said with a smile.

Hagrid's eyes lit up in recognition. "Yeh must be the owner of little Spitfire 'ere. Hang on a sec, I'll get 'im."

Though Spitfire was a fully-grown cat, his whole body was the size of Hagrid's palm. Hagrid placed him down before Alex with a gentleness that belied his appearance. "Was on a walk with Fang when suddenly this black blur starts attackin' 'im! They got in a bit of a tussle before I could separate 'em, and Spitfire was hurt, so I took care of 'im in the meanwhile."

As if to apologise, Fang gave Spitfire a lick. It didn't have the intended effect, though, as the latter simply hissed. Whimpering, Fang trotted towards Harry, resting his chin on his knee and drooling like no tomorrow.

"You idiot," Alex muttered, running her fingers over Spitfire. His tail and one of his paws were bandaged, but other than that—and the wear on his emerald collar—he seemed okay. She looked up at the kind man in front of her. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said softly.

Hagrid looked at her for a moment before nodding. "So," he said brightly, turning to the boys, "how was yer first week?"

As it turned out, their first week was far from glamorous. Ron and Harry liked to complain – a lot. They complained about the classes, and especially about Filch. Alex also learned that Hagrid was a terrible liar. When Harry mentioned how he thought Snape hated him in particular, Hagrid wouldn't meet Harry's eyes as he denied such a claim. He also changed the subject rather hurriedly. Not to mention how badly he reacted when Harry picked up the news article on the table, detailing the Gringotts break-in on the same day as Harry's birthday. Fortunately, Alex was there to save the day.

"It was your birthday?" she gasped. "Harry, you never told me."

Harry twirled a rock cake in his hand. "It's not a big deal."

"Of course it is. Here." Rummaging through the pockets of her robes, Alex finally found some coupons. "For the shop."

Laughing, Harry accepted it, distracted from the suspicious Gringotts incident for the time being.

Alex rested her hand on Spitfire's back. She needed to be much more cautious about her friends from now on.

After that day, Alex found herself visiting Hagrid and Fang more often. Out of politeness, she had accepted a rock cake from the courteous host, and now her teeth were smarting. She ran her tongue over the sore spots, wondering if she should bother Madam Pomfrey, when Spitfire leapt out of her arms and ran off.

"Hey!" she called after him. The little idiot had only just finished healing, too. Sighing, Alex jogged after her trouble-bound cat. She wondered if Hagrid wanted to trade pets.

Spitfire, the gluttonous thing he was, had rushed into the Great Hall, despite the fact that he had dinner mere moments ago. "You're gonna eat yourself sick," she muttered beneath her breath, keeping her eyes peeled for him.

Naturally, he was at the Gryffindor table. Spitfire was in Harry's lap, yowling at him for some food. Flustered, Harry looked around wildly. Relief flooded through him when he noticed her.

"Sorry," she said, grabbing her cat. "He loves food a little too much." She couldn't help but shoot a look at Ron, who was oblivious to the world as he stuffed his face.

"Have you eaten?" asked Harry. "I haven't seen you all day."

She nodded. "I have. So has Spit, actually," she grumbled, tapping her finger on her cat's damp nose.

Feeling an intense, unabashed gaze on her, Alex turned. A girl with crazy, bushy hair was staring excitedly at Spitfire. "Hello," Alex said curiously. "Would you like to pat him?"

The girl stammered out a yes. Alex was forced to sit next to Harry in order to reach over the table to pass her pet to none other than Hermione Granger. She received more than a few glances at that, but that was nothing new.

Hermione cooed and doted on Spitfire. Rather than trying to squirm away like he did with everyone else, Spitfire basked in her attention. Then again, he was probably buttering her up for treats. The same trick never failed to work with Dad. Every. Single. Time.

"I don't think you're getting your cat back any time soon," noted Harry as he resumed his dinner.

Alex sighed. "True."

A plate appeared before her, and Alex shrugged before grabbing some rolls. She might as well snack some more while Spitfire conned Hermione.

"So," she said, buttering a roll, "what did you get up to today?"

Harry grinned. "I made Seeker."

Alex smiled, genuinely happy for him. "Your dad was a Chaser, you know."

"Really?" Harry said, turning to gape at her. "How d'you know?"

"It was in some book." She shrugged apologetically. "Think he was a good one, too, so hopefully that trait was passed onto you."

"Of course it'll be," scoffed Ron, sending a fleck of corn flying in her direction. "Harry's only a first-year and he's already made the team!"

As if on cue, Draco Malfoy himself sauntered over towards them, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" he said snidely. God, she hated his voice. "When are you getting the train back to the muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. Ah, there was that Gryffindor 'bravery'. Alex supposed Harry's sass was acceptable in this case, since Malfoy and his goons could do nothing more than crack their knuckles and scowl while in direct view of the High Table.

Of course, Malfoy didn't stop there. He challenged Harry to a wizard's duel, capitalising on Harry's confusion to mock him for not even knowing what it was. Fortunately, Ron swooped in, claiming he'd be his second while Malfoy chose Crabbe.

"Midnight all right?" he asked rhetorically. "We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." Without another word, he strode off, his goons following obediently.

Alex rolled her eyes once he left. "'What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?'" she mocked, imitating Malfoy's snobbish voice. "Like's he ever heard of half the things in the muggle world."

Appreciative chuckles rang around her, and Alex was pleasantly surprised to note that it didn't come from just Harry and Ron. Hermione had paused in tickling Spitfire's chin, and gave her a contemplative look.

Alex turned to her with a small smile, ignoring Harry and Ron's discussion about the duel. "I'm Alexandra Fortescue. I see you're fond of Spitfire."

"An interesting name," Hermione said, smiling. "I'm Hermione Granger. Are you a muggle-born too?"

Technically… "Half," she said. "But I know more of the muggle world than all of my House combined."

"You don't seem too fond of them," she observed.

"You mean I'm not obsessed with House loyalty and all that garbage?" She scoffed. "All that does is establish petty rivalries and the basis of discrimination, as you can tell." She cut her eyes to Harry and Ron, who were now detailing what Malfoy's face would look like once they punched it.

"That's a unique perspective." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before sniffing at the boys. "Excuse me," she said, her voice suddenly growing much colder and much ruder. Alex reeled from the one-eighty as Hermione continued: "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying—"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"—and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Goodbye," added Ron.

"You really should listen to her," interjected Alex, feeling sorry for Hermione. "Why're you so eager to pick a fight, anyhow? Harry, you've just arrived here, and you already want to engage in a wizard's duel? Do you even know any duelling spells?"

Harry looked put-out. "I can just use my fists, can't I?"

"So Malfoy can use his bruises as an excuse to get you into trouble?"

"Why're you picking on Harry?" exploded Ron. "Siding with your fellow snake, are you? If Harry doesn't show, he's going to be called a coward!"

"Fine," she snapped. "But I'm coming with."

"What? Why?"

"Because Harry's my friend," she said simply. "And I could crush you lot in a wizarding duel any day."

It was 11.30pm, and Alex was outside the Gryffindor common room. Or, more accurately, she was in front of the painting that was meant to hold the Fat Lady. It was a distasteful name which Alex wanted to rectify, but the person in question was presently missing, so she would have to save her efforts for next time.

She probably should have waited at the actual location instead, but she didn't trust the boys to get there themselves. The door to the common room popped open, and Alex tensed despite the fact she was under the disillusionment spell. When two familiar heads of red and black hair, followed by one of brown, came out, she calmed down and undid the spell.

Hermione, who had been in the middle of lecturing the boys, cut herself off with a squeak of surprise. "Alexandra?" she asked, stunned. "How did you do that?"

"Disillusionment charm," she explained offhandedly. "Never mind that, you guys are making way too much noise for such a delicate mission."

"S'not us," protested Ron. "She's the loud one. Won't stop nagging us."

"Quiet," ordered Harry. "I think I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling noise and, instead of heading away from the source like people with brains would, the Golden Trio crept towards it. Alex had her wand out in the open, but it turned out she didn't need it. It was simply Neville, who was curled up asleep on the cold tiles. As they approached, though, he jolted awake.

"Thank goodness you found me!" he sighed. "I've been out here for hours; I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville," scolded Hermione. Hm. She did a lot of that. "The password's 'pig snout' but it won't help you now – the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"Don't call her that," Alex said, frowning.

"How's your arm?" asked Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them his unmarked appendage. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Why didn't you ask for help once you realised you didn't know the password?" Alex asked, bemused.

Even in the darkness of night, Alex could see Neville's blush. "I didn't know who to ask," he admitted quietly.

"Oh. Well, next time you should seek Professor McGonagall out. She's your Head of House, right?"

The Gryffindors nodded their heads, but half of them looked impatient as they did so. "Well, look, Neville," began Harry, "we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later—"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone. The Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Alex pursed her lips, feeling the need to stick up for one of her allies. "The Baron's alright." She shrugged as the others eyed her like she had sprouted another head. "You guys go. I'll stay here with – Neville, was it? Alexandra Fortescue. Hope you don't mind."

Even though she was in her pyjamas—a plain grey top with black pants—as opposed to her uniform, Neville was still wary of her, and looked very much like he minded. He didn't have much choice in the matter, though, as Ron hastily capitalised on her scapegoat and ran like the wind. Though somewhat worried, Alex had a feeling they would be alright.

Neville was trembling like a leaf on a windy day, and Alex wasn't sure if it was due to the cold seeping into the castle or the perpetual gloom Hogwarts adopted at night. (Or maybe it was her presence. Nah.)

"Do you know where McGonagall's office is?"

Neville nodded hesitantly. "It's on the first floor. Next to the stairs."

"Lead the way."

They walked in silence, Alex indifferent and Neville nervous. Feeling bad for him, she made small talk.

"How d'you find Hogwarts so far?" she asked politely.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "The classes are hard, and the people can be…"

"Gits?" she offered.

Surprised, Neville smiled slightly. "Something like that. Um, what House are you in, Alexandra?"

"Guess."

Neville thought for a moment. "Ravenclaw?"

"Ew. No."

"Uh, Hufflepuff?"

"Nope."

"So…that means…" Neville swallowed audibly. "Slytherin?"

"Bingo." She flashed him a toothy smile. "It's okay. I don't bite."

She couldn't help teasing Neville; he made it too easy. It was a good thing that they were nearing Professor McGonagall's office, because Neville looked close to whimpering.

Alex knocked on the door twice. There was a bit of a rustle, and McGonagall opened the door. She was wearing a plain cream robe, her face pinched up with irritation.

"Mr Longbottom?" she asked crisply. "Miss Fortescue? What in Merlin's name are you doing at my office at this hour?"

Seeing how Neville was remaining painfully silent, Alex piped up. "I was looking for my cat, professor, when I found Neville here locked out of the common room. Seemed like the painting guarding it was missing."

Professor McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated but unsurprised. The Lady must have loved her nightly walks. "She should be back by now. Let's go."

Neville scurried after the professor, scrambling to keep up with her long strides. Alex walked a bit more sedately, keeping an eye open on their surroundings – or as much as was visible due to both her and the professor's combined lumoses.

They ran into no one on their way back, and were soon back at Gryffindor Tower. Perhaps not wanting to expose the common room to her, Professor McGonagall said, "I trust you are able to find your own way back to the Slytherin common room, Miss Fortescue? It is extremely late, after all, and while your pet may be missing, cats are rather independent creatures. It'll appear sooner or later."

Alex frowned at the blatant dismissal, but kept her lips locked tight. She simply nodded and left, checking the time as she did so. It was almost midnight, and the trophy room was on the way to the dungeons…

It was a few minutes past midnight when Alex reached the trophy room. Slowly and quietly, she pushed open the door. She was greeted by a wand to the face.

"It's just me," she grumbled.

"Alex!" Harry hastily lowered his wand. "Why are you here? What happened to Neville?"

"We—"

Hermione shushed them, pressing a finger against her lips as she cocked her head to the side. That was when they heard it – a pair of heavy footsteps, followed by someone muttering, "Sniff around, my sweet. They might be lurking in a corner."

Alex felt a chill run down her spine. She knew that voice. Almost every student knew that voice. It belonged to Filch, the school's bitter and vengeful caretaker.

She slipped out of the doorway, the other three quickly following suit. The was no time to close the door; they had all just cleared the room when they heard Filch come in through the other entrance, grumbling away.

Alex nervously eyed the corridor they were in. It was lined with nothing but suits of armour.

"This way," mouth Harry, and they were forced to creep down the long gallery.

Alex could hear a soft pit-patter that didn't match any of their footsteps. Feeling like she was in a horror movie, she slowly looked back. A pair of red eyes landed on her as Mrs Norris rounded the corner.

"The cat!" she warned.

They took off in a run, throwing caution to the wind as they tried to evade the cat who served as eyes and ears for Filch.

Harry was in the lead now. He ripped through a tapestry—perhaps to hide—which turned out to be a hidden passageway. They hurtled along it and came out near the Charms classroom, which was a long stretch away from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," panted Harry. He wiped away the sweat on his forehead.

Alex steadied her breaths as Hermione scolded the boys for falling into Malfoy's trap. Judging by Harry's face, he knew she was right, but there was no way he would admit that.

"Let's just get back to the tower," grumbled Ron. But they had barely travelled two metres when a doorknob rattled and something milky white emerged from the classroom.

It was Peeves, who squealed in delight upon seeing them.

Harry and Hermione begged and pleaded with Peeves to keep quiet, but this only caused him to cackle and taunt them. Seeing the mounting impatience on Ron's face, Alex intervened. "Hello, Peeves," she said cordially.

"It's you," he said, sounding neither pleased nor displeased. "Leading these ickle firsties out and about during midnight, hm? Tut, tut, such a baaaaad influence."

Alex smiled sharply. "Yes, well, good girls don't make deals with poltergeists, now do they? What do you want in exchange for keeping mum?"

Peeves drifted through the air, his form practically illuminating the entire hallway as he adopted what she supposed was a thoughtful pose. "Cake," he decided. "One rotten and one fresh."

Ron sneered. "Why would you want a fresh one? You can't even taste it."

Peeves grinned, and it wasn't a pleasant one. "To lob it at annoying children like you, of course."

"Deal," Alex said quickly.

"Yeah, now get out of the way," snapped Ron. To make matters worse, he actually tried to swipe at Peeves.

Alex's defeated sigh was lost among Peeve's screams of, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

They were running again. Alex was tempted to trip Ron and leave him to fend off Filch alone, but she had a feeling Harry would do something noble and stupid and stop to help him up.

They reached the end of the corridor, slamming into a door – but it was locked. Wand already in hand, Alex murmured, "Alohomora". Since they had been pushing at the door at the time, the moment it swung open, Ron and Harry toppled in and onto the floor. She traded a smile with Hermione, who looked a touch more annoyed than amused.

The Gryffindors shut the door quickly and pressed their ears against it. Meanwhile, Alex glanced at the corridor they were in. Her eyes fell upon an enormous, three-headed dog. She grinned.

"Fluffy!" she crowed, delighted. All three faces looked confused, recognising the name Hagrid had bestowed upon it.

She wanted to pat it so bad. It was a good thing Harry pulled them out of the room when he did, though, because Alex probably would have lost a good chunk of her body otherwise. Fluffy snarled and growled fiercely as they shut the door in its faces.

Alex would have been content to find her way back to the dungeons from there, but the Gryffindors were running again, this time because of something much more frightening than Filch. She had no choice but to follow, her body protesting the entire way.

"Enough," she finally choked out a few minutes later. "Magical dog or not, I doubt it has the ability to shrink itself enough to fit through that door."

Seeing the logic in her words, the others paused. Their shoulders and chests heaved with each breath they took, causing their bathrobes to droop slightly.

She was the first to regain her breath. "Well," she sighed, "that was an adventure. I don't know about you, but I have class tomorrow. Good night."

The trio of first-years were so tired they could do no more than nod. Alex walked off, headed not to her common room but to the Room of Requirement. When she had snuck out of her dorm earlier that night, she did so quietly and stealthily, with a touch of magic so that no one could tell anything was amiss in the thick of night. Now, though, she was drained – both physically and spiritually. She'd run more tonight than she had in the past few years. There was no way she would pull off sneaking back in.

As she walked, she thought about Fluffy, as Harry, Ron and Hermione were no doubt doing right at that moment. Why would Dumbledore place such a flawed security device there for anyone with half a brain to notice? Most students knew the unlocking charm, and it wouldn't be too difficult to get past Fluffy. A few stunners here, a few curses there, or even the elusive music tactic and bam. Guard dog defanged.

Unless Dumbledore wanted to catch the thief red-handed? He made it no secret that Hogwarts was hiding something this year, not with the way he asked Hagrid of all people to retrieve the Stone itself. The half-giant was loyal, sure, but he wouldn't be Alex's first choice if discretion was her aim. It was clear Dumbledore wanted to publicise this, but why involve the students? He could have easily held a staff meeting and warned the professors about the third floor… Or did he suspect the students too?

Alex climbed into the replica of her bed and sighed, knowing sleep would have to wait.