Chapter Thirty-One
Fifth Year
The next morning, Alex walked off in search of a payphone. At Mrs Weasley's insistence she was accompanied by Sirius as their chaperone, so Harry volunteered to come with. Naturally, that meant his best mates and Ginny wanted to tag along too.
"There's a fellytone by the country road," said Ron as they left the Burrow.
It was a scorcher today, made bearable only thanks to the cooling charms Sirius and Mrs Weasley had cast on them. Harry welcomed the heat after the cold night they had yesterday. Everyone was dressed in mugglewear for this little side adventure, because although their chances of running into muggles were slim, it was better to be safe than sorry.
"Ah, shit!" Alex yelped from over by the payphone. It must've been hot to the touch. She braced herself for a second before grabbing onto it and punching in the number lightning-quick.
"Can't imagine remembering all those numbers like that," Ron confessed in quiet amazement. "It was bad enough that one time I tried to call you, Harry, and that was even with the number written down."
"It's not that difficult," Hermione said, amused. Harry was glad to see her spirits were up; she had been down in the dumps after the Winky incident.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Mum. You okay? Yeah, I'm fine. Nah, I think I'll stay with the Weasleys. Yep. Okay. Yeah. Sure. Uh-huh." A pause, followed by another sigh, this time resigned. "Yes, I'll make sure to do so. Okay bye mum love you."
She wandered back to them, the furrow in her brow finally gone. It returned when someone in a passing car honked at her; she flipped them off.
"Is your mum okay?" asked Ginny as they began making their way back.
Alex nodded, yanking free a stalk of grass from the field they were wading through. "Nothing a few self-administered healing spells can't fix. She's just resting at home for today."
"I'm amazed the Ministry gave her a whole day off," said Sirius. "You'd think they'd need all hands on deck now."
"She was working all night," explained Alex. "Combing through the woods for any stragglers. Like…" She trailed off, her mind elsewhere.
They were all consumed by their thoughts now, no doubt reflecting on what had happened last night. Harry himself was thinking about that nightmare he had just two days ago—had it only been two?—with the two men, the faceless voice, and the giant snake.
He had to tell his mates about it, but maybe not out here in the open. He wasn't sure if Sirius approved of his intentions either.
"What's that?" asked Alex, her head craned as she stared into the distance.
They traced her line of sight to the woods on the edge of Ottery St Catchpole. What captured their attention, though, was two figures on broomsticks hovering over tops of the trees.
"What are they doing?" gasped Hermione. "They could be seen! We need to stop them!"
"Do we?" asked Ron. A punch to the shoulder courtesy of Hermione answered that question.
It was a bit of a walk, but eventually they reached the edge of the woods.
"Oi!" hollered Ginny, and Harry could tell she got it from her mum. She waved at the broom-riders wildly.
A man with shockingly white hair drifted down, and Harry almost assumed it was Mr Malfoy. But no, this man wore a serene smile on his face, not to mention his hair was shorter and fluffier - like a dandelion, actually.
"Hello," he said calmly. "Have you come to search for flapperblimps as well? Just make sure you haven't confused them with dapperblimps."
"Wouldn't dream of it," replied Alex, shooting him a winning smile. "I'm assuming Luna's up there too?"
"Oh, you know my Luna!" Mr Lovegood beamed at her. "Let me guess… Hm…" Rather than scrutinising her face, he stared at the spot just above Alex's head. "With an aura like that, you must be Alexandra Fortescue. Luna speaks of you all the time, you know. Let me tell her you're here."
Before Hermione could protest, Mr Lovegood shot back up into the sky. Harry was surprised such a, uh, dotty man could remain so stable on a broom like that.
"How'd you know he was Luna's dad?" he asked Alex. "Besides the hair." Lots of people had white hair, after all - Harry could name three from the top of his head.
"He's on the back of the Quibbler," replied Alex.
Ginny snort-laughed. "You read that?"
"I'm subscribed to it, actually."
"What's the Quibbler?" asked Hermione.
Ginny's eyes lit up. "Oh, wait til you see, it—"
"Hello, Alex," Luna Lovegood said, ever the picture of tranquillity even as she descended. "What brings you here?"
Hermione's nostrils flared. "You know of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, correct? Right, well, by flying your brooms in broad daylight like this, you run the risk of being spotted by muggles, which is a clear violation of Clause 38 of the law."
"Merlin's beard," Ron murmured in awe. "Did you memorise the entire Statute?"
"Yes," Hermione said in a tone that implied that the answer should've been obvious.
"That's nice," chirped Luna, "but there aren't any muggles around."
"You don't know that," countered Hermione, sounding about ready to throw down with the other girl. "A group of muggles drove by not too far from here, and they could've easily spotted you on your broom."
Luna tilted her head to side like a curious bird inspecting something strange. "They would rationalise it, though. We could look like bats or bugs or kites to them."
Hermione puffed up as she took in a big breath of air. Harry recognised it as a sign that she was revving up for a good, long argument. Not wanting to stand out here in the summer sun and endure all that, Harry intervened.
"Maybe Disillusion yourselves," he suggested with a shrug.
A faint whining sound could be heard from Mr Lovegood's person. He dug through the pockets of his psychedelic robes and pulled out a fob watch, the source of the noise. When he pressed his thumb against the button on the top, the clock-face fell open and a cuckoo bird flew out and up into the sky.
"Ah, it's noon," he declared, checking his odd watch. "Lunchtime. Would you lot care to join us?"
"We're fine," Hermione said just as Alex began to nod.
"I'm down," she told Mr Lovegood, ignoring Hermione's warning look. "You guys can go back."
Harry turned to Sirius, the only responsi— the only adult in their group. "Sounds good," he declared, clapping his hands together. "I have somewhere I need to be anyway."
"You sure you trust him?" Harry asked lowly as they made their back to the Burrow.
Sirius nodded. "I know of Xenophilius – he's a good bloke, if a little barmy."
"He passed that on to his daughter," commented Ginny. "People call her Loony Lovegood."
"I can see why," Hermione muttered. She bit her lip as though ashamed of her response.
"Weird how she and Alex are such good mates, though," mused Harry as he batted away a fly.
"Please," snorted Ron. "She'd befriend a sentient broom if she could."
Well, he wasn't wrong.
"Luna," Alex said as they reached the Lovegood house, "your home is the single most amazing thing I've ever seen."
The Lovegoods resided in a castle - of sorts. It was a single tower shaped like one of those common chess pieces. What were they called again? Whatever, she'd ask Ron later.
The hopped over the broken-down gate with a sign tacked onto it declaring the property as one pertaining to the Editor of the Quibbler and followed the zigzag path to the front door. The Lovegood front garden was composed of a mishmash of flowers of varying sizes and colours, some magical and some non-magical.
"We can make flower crowns later," promised Luna as her father unlocked the front door.
"Cool."
Due to the cylindrical nature of their home, each floor was composed a single, spacious room. The entrance opened up into a brightly coloured kitchen with a mural spanning one side. The other was painted with curious creatures that she bet belonged to the Lovegoods' vivid imaginations.
In the middle of the kitchen was a wrought-iron staircase which lead to Mr Lovegood's room. Luna explained it doubled as his workspace, and indeed, there was a printing press; on the shelf atop it was a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"Was your dad a Ravenclaw?" Alex asked as they moved up into Luna's room.
Luna nodded. "My mum, too. It's how they met."
Alex couldn't help but notice the conspicuous absence of Mrs Lovegood. Though she wanted to ask, Grant's brooding face popped up in her head whenever the question crossed her mind. Speaking of which…
"Have you spoken to Duncan or Grant recently?" she asked, absently taking in Luna's room. It was surprisingly plain - well, compared to the kitchen, anyway. "Did they go to the World Cup?"
"Grant went with Duncan's family," replied Luna as she toyed with one of the silver magical bubbles floating in her room. "I think it was his first time meeting the parents."
"Wait. They're an item? Since when?" Alex furrowed her brow in thought as she tried to recollect any obvious tells.
Luna tilted her head to the side. "Since always?"
"I mean, they have heaps of chemistry, and the flirt from time to time. I just never knew they made it official."
Having lost interest in the topic, Luna moved on with a shrug. She laid down on the pale blue carpet, inviting Alex to do the same. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside; they cloud-watched for a few minutes before Alex remembered Luna had also been at the game.
She turned to Luna and propped herself up on her elbow. "You saw the riot, right?"
But Luna shook her head. "Our Seer warned us beforehand something disastrous would take place during the first half-moon of August."
"Damn," murmured Alex. "I should start consulting Seers."
"I'm taking Divination as an elective this year," Luna informed her brightly. "Perhaps I can be of assistance."
Alex laughed. "I'll be sure to seek you out," she promised her.
After a wholesome lunch made of ingredients from the Lovegood garden, Mr Lovegood apparated her back to the Burrow where they had just finished their own tea. With a very unsubtle gesture, Harry encouraged Ron, Hermione and Alex to follow them into the room he was sharing with Ron. Alex cast a sympathetic look to Ginny, who was fuming at being left behind.
As soon as they all filed in, Harry closed the door behind them. Inhaling deeply, he turned to face them.
"I had a nightmare the other night. It… It was about Voldemort."
Hermione and Ron gasped, and belatedly Alex wondered if she should have too.
"Like, a nightmare?" she asked instead. It wasn't unusual for someone to be haunted by the thoughts of their parents' murderer. Merlin, what a messed-up thought that was. Sometimes she forgot how tragic Harry's past truly was.
Harry shook his head impatiently. "This wasn't just something my mind made up; it was a- a vision of sorts." Briefly he recounted the dream to them. "They were plotting to kill someone."
One guess as to who that someone was.
"It was only a dream," Ron reminded them weakly. "Just a nightmare."
"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."
"Don't say his name," hissed Ron.
"What did Sirius say?" asked Hermione plausibly.
Harry shrugged. "Nothing much."
She pursed her lips, dissatisfied.
They were silent for a contemplative moment before Ron asked, "Quidditch?"
Since they were far enough from the muggle part of the village, Harry agreed. Alex got up to join them.
Hermione was gobsmacked. "You're playing, Alex?"
"Oh, no," laughed Alex. "I just wanna practise my flying." Her Firebolt was shrunken and tucked away in her luggage in the girls' room.
Hermione shuddered. Out of the four of them, she was the worst flyer. "Go," she said upon noticing Alex's hesitation. "I want to get started on my schoolwork anyway."
"Shame you don't have more time," Alex said, smirking.
Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
Every year on the first train ride to Hogwarts, the prefects were made to congregate at the second carriage from the front. A specially designed carriage, it was split into two large compartments: one for teachers, and one for students with badges.
Impeded as she was by her peers, Alex wound up the last to arrive to the prefects meeting.
The head boy, a sour-faced lad from Gryffindor, gave her an unfriendly grin when she slid open the door. "Glad you could finally join us, Fortescue."
Not wanting to flip off someone with the power to inconvenience her, Alex threw a peace sign his way.
Cedric coughed to hide his snort of laughter.
Ravenclaw's head girl didn't bother disguising her amused smile. "We were just about to start," she said.
Alex thanked her with a smile and took the closest seat by the door.
"Welcome to prefects new and old," she continued. "And congratulations on receiving your badge of honour. Please ensure you wear it at all times; it's what grants you the ability to reward or punish your peers."
A Hufflepuff prefect raised her hand. "What if someone steals our badge?"
"Good question—" The head girl stretched out the word until she got a name.
"Mya Hoorne."
"Okay, Mya, even if someone takes it, if they're not recognised as a prefect on the list in Dumbledore's office, the badge will be rendered useless until it returns to its proper owner."
"Wicked," muttered a Ravenclaw prefect to Alex's right.
The head girl proceeded once no other hands flew up. "Let's introduce ourselves," she said with a clap of her hands. "I'm Aisha Saamir, Ravenclaw, head girl."
"Head boy. Mason Johanovic. Gryffindor."
They continued around the circular table. Other than Cedric and Zubair—her Slytherin partner—this was Alex's first time meeting everyone else. To her disappointment, she didn't recognise any of the other fifth-year prefects.
After Alex finished introducing herself, Mason began listing off the rules and roles of prefects. Once every two nights, they were to patrol the castle with their prefect partner. They were allowed to swap shifts and even partners if need be but were discouraged from doing so to prevent any unnecessary confusion. They all had copies of the schedule, which were controlled by the head prefects; once they updated it, their parchments would change automatically.
As it turned out, Alex had the first shift for the train patrols. Judging by Mason's smirk, it was no coincidence, either. Due to the simplicity of the job, prefects patrolled the train without their partner. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zubair grin.
Dismissed, they filed out of the carriage. Alex went ahead with a wave to Cedric; she'd talk to him later.
On her patrol, she caught more than one couple snogging, and almost threw up both times. A few kids were actually brawling, and she was tempted to let them continue to teach them a lesson about fighting in enclosed spaces, but there was one innocent bystander pressed up against his seat and trying to wiggle his way out to no avail. Sighing, Alex slammed open the door, startling them enough to cause them to snap out of it.
She crossed her arms, scowling. "If you want to hurt yourselves this badly, I can lend you a hand," she said, tapping her wand against her elbow.
She waited for the boys to nod apprehensively before making her way through the train again. She stopped to show off her badge to Ginny and Neville, who were in their own compartment with a few other Gryffindors. "Such a great role model," Ginny said, pretending to fawn over her. Alex rolled her eyes and laughed before moving along. She greeted several Slytherins with a polite nod before waving happily at Luna, Grant and Duncan.
But it was the trio's reactions that truly entertained her.
"Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron," she heard Hermione say through the opening of their compartment.
"Him! Get to me? As if!" said Ron, his voice high-pitched with false bravado.
"Well," began Alex, opening the door further, "if he does, let me know. I'll put Malfoy in his place."
Harry peered at her curiously. "How d'you mean?"
She smirked and fished out the badge from the pocket of her jacket. "Guess who made Slytherin prefect," she said smugly.
They gazed at the silver-and-green badge almost reverently. "Oh, Alex," gushed Hermione, "congratulations!"
"Yes!" breathed Ron. "Think of all the ways you can punish Malfoy!"
"Your parents must be so proud," said Hermione, eyeing the badge hungrily.
"Yeah, I guess," she said vaguely. Dad had been pretty thrilled, and Mum managed to muster her leftover energy to congratulate her. She was always working overtime these days, and it was showing.
"Is that what you were doing all morning?" Harry asked, nodding to the badge she was tucking away.
She nodded. "Prefects' meeting. The head girl and boy were inaugurating us. Being prefect's such a hassle," she sighed, grabbing another chocolate. "We have to patrol the hallways at night, patrol the corridors of the train, show the first-years to the dorm…"
"Why not just quit?" asked Hermione, though the look on her face was severely disapproving.
"Because we have our own bathroom," she said, straightening with excitement. "I hear it's amazing." Probably no more amazing than the bathrooms the Room of Requirement conjured for her, though. At least she could stop peering over her shoulder when heading to the prefects' bathroom.
"Where is it?" asked Ron, his eyes alight with interest.
"Sorry, Ron, but we aren't allowed to share the bathroom with others," said Alex, frowning lightly. "Otherwise our privileges will be revoked."
"Aw," he whined, "c'mon. How would they even find out?"
She shrugged. There were eyes all over the castle. Despite the vastness of the place, privacy was a foreign concept at Hogwarts.
Alex planned on joining her Gryffindor mates once she wrapped up her patrol, but then Cedric ambushed her.
"We need to talk," he said, stepping back so she could enter his compartment.
Alex hesitantly accepted his invitation. "Uh, there's someone in here," she pointed. It was one of Cedric's mates, a guy in his House and year.
"Mike is deaf," clarified Cedric. "And he promised not to lip-read."
Mike waved cheerily at them before pointedly peering out the window.
That settled, Alex sat down across from Cedric. "What's up?" she asked, but she had an inkling as to what this was about.
"So my dad ran into you at the World Cup. Said something about you casting the Dark Mark?" he said sardonically.
Alex's lips twitched in amusement. "I don't even know the spell," she told him. "No offence, Ced, but your dad was a bit unhinged that night."
Cedric winced. "Can you not? He can be a little... but he's my dad."
"He made a house-elf cry, Cedric," she replied flatly. You'd have to be a grade-A piece of shit to do something like that. "And he branded me a criminal almost instantly."
Resigned, Cedric sighed. "I'm sorry about that. He's always been overzealous when it comes to work. If it makes you feel any better, my mum chewed him out once she found out. I wouldn't talk to him for a solid day."
Alex smiled slightly. "Thanks for the solidarity, mate."
"My pleasure," he responded with a small grin. "He tried to make it up to me by telling me about the Triwizard Tournament – your mum's told you about it, right?"
Her stomach twisted at the horrid reminder. "My dad, actually," she murmured. "He knows everything about everyone, almost. Helps my mum with her job a good amount."
"Don't tell anyone," he began, grey eyes bright with excitement, "but I plan on entering."
"People have died," she said immediately, the words falling out of her mouth helplessly. "That's the reason it was stopped in the first place, because of the body count." Magical nations all over the world had tried their hand at reinstating it with little success.
"It's bullshit," she continued, on a roll now. "As if Hogwarts needs to invite danger to our doorstep. Something happens literally every year – why tempt the fates? It's like Dumbledore enjoys endangering our lives."
"What happened last year?" asked Cedric, frowning. "I mean, Professor Lupin was a werewolf, but he never hurt anyone."
Alex shook her head to avoid explaining herself. "Promise me you won't enter," she pleaded. "If you get hurt, if you die…"
But Cedric wouldn't take her words to heart. "It'll be fine," he assured her. "Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of the century. There's no way he'll let anything happen."
She rolled her eyes. "He's a man, Cedric, not a god. Why are you so keen to enter anyhow? Are all quidditch players naturally jeopardy friendly?"
Cedric's expression tightened. "I…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "The prize is a thousand galleons."
Oh. Alex leaned back in her seat, stunned. While the Diggorys weren't loaded, they weren't struggling, either – at least, they didn't appear to be. But only fools accepted everything at face value.
Her frustration at Cedric's circumstances cooled down as resolve replaced it instead.
"All right," she said, straightening in her seat. "If that's how it is."
The sight of Cedric's grateful smile only amplified the screams inside her head.
When they reached Hogsmeade station, Alex declined Cedric's offer to sit with him and his mates and branched off to join her roommates. Alex ignored the protests of indignation behind her as she cut in line and joined Agatha and Katherine at the front of the line for the thestral-drawn carriages.
"Did you know?" was the first thing she asked as soon the thestrals began moving.
"Know what?" asked Katherine, blank-faced, while Agatha glanced at her shoes.
"Don't play dumb," hissed Alex. "The riot. Did you two know that was going to happen?"
"Honestly, no," replied Katherine, frowning. "We were warned something was going to go down, but not what."
Alex nodded, satisfied with Katherine's answer; she wasn't in the habit of telling lies. "Agatha?"
"I tried to warn you," insisted Agatha, her fists clenched in her lap. "When you wandered to our tent… If you hadn't left when you did…"
Katherine sighed, disappointed but not surprised.
"Were your parents wearing masks that night?" Alex asked through clenched teeth.
Agatha didn't reply, which was an answer in itself.
"Unbelievable," Alex muttered, shaking her head scornfully.
The rest of the carriage ride continued in stiff silence. When the thestrals came to a stop, Alex hopped off the cart and walked into the castle without so much as a glance back. Though she longed to sit on a different table tonight, the weight of her prefect badge pinned to her front served as a reminder of her responsibility to her House now. To keep up appearances, she sat with the other Slytherin fifth-years, but didn't offer much besides a half-hearted greeting. Frankly, she wasn't sure who she could trust in this House of Snakes.
"Merlin's beard," Jacob whispered, his gaze focused on the teachers' table. "Is that Mad-Eye Moody?"
"Wow." Zubair tapped his chin in thought. "Is that who the new Defence professor is? Dumbledore isn't taking any chances this year, is he?"
"Think his choice was affected by the World Cup?"
"Maybe," murmured Zubair. "Maybe."
Mad-Eye Moody was an auror notorious for his crudeness which was matched only by his reputation as one of the most successful in the department. He was virtually untouchable despite—or perhaps due to—his brutally effective methods, and had made the front page of several editorials frequently in the years following Voldemort's supposed demise. He was personally responsible for imprisoning more than a few relatives of her Housemates.
As angry as they were, though, Alex was confident no one would mess with him. His grisly appearance wasn't just for show, after all, not to mention his Mad-Eye could spot anything up to a mile away.
Alex watched this year's Sorting with a sharper eye than usual. There were only six new Slytherins: three boys and three girls. They were an even mix of pure- and half-bloods, but although none of them were of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Still, she had to try and set them straight before they could become traditionalists like so many of their Housemates were.
She was in the middle of composing a speech in her head when the feast ended. Alex tuned Dumbledore out when he began his annual speech with general admin and only tuned back in when he informed everyone quidditch was cancelled for the year.
There was a shout of protest from the Gryffindor table, followed by discontented murmurs around the hall. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, though as to whether it was in response to the quidditch decision or the students' reactions, Alex wasn't sure.
Dumbledore held up two hands in a silent gesture to get everyone to shut the hell up. It worked like magic. "Now, allow me to explain why."
He smiled down benignly at the sea of students hanging onto each and every word. "We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
The headmaster went onto a give a brief rundown on the history of the tournament. At the mention of what sorts of rewards would be reaped by the winner—money, fame, glory, etc.—students turned their rapt attention from Dumbledore to murmur comments to their friends.
"I'm in," Jacob declared.
"I'll be sure to attend your funeral," replied Zubair. No wonder he made prefect as well.
"Before you start envisioning yourselves as the Hogwarts champion," interjected Dumbledore, "I must warn you, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Initially we had planned to maintain the limit at seventeen to exclude underage students. However," he continued, overriding the chatter, "after much conference, it was decided that it would be unfair for those who would never get a chance to participate in the Tournament, which occurs every few years. Moreover, if the impartial judge deems a witch or wizard as worthy, age should not be a barrier."
Alex deliberately glued her gaze to the front even as she noticed Draco's meaningful glance in her direction. Not only did she not want to make their little deal obvious, she wasn't in the mood to indulge any Death Eater children tonight. No doubt his parents, like Agatha's, were in the thick of things the night of the World Cup.
"As such," continued Dumbledore, and the air was practically vibrating with anticipation now, "the Triwizard Tournament is open to those who are thirteen and over."
The ensuing silence was almost deafening as people digested the weight of Dumbledore's words. It was nothing compared to the clamour that followed, each individual voice lost as everyone rejoiced and announced their intention to compete.
Alex, meanwhile, was lost in her own thoughts. Cedric's chances at competing had shrunken considerably, but not completely. While there was the chance someone could beat him in the running, Alex wasn't sure if she could live with the fact that she had basically sent another one of her peers to an early grave just to save Cedric.
There was only one thing to it, then.
She was just going to have to win the Triwizard Tournament.