Harry Potter and the Crystal Ball
by Hannah
Chapter Six ~ The Duel
Harry awoke to find himself tangled in his gray sheets, damp with a cold sweat. He took a deep breath or two. His dream . . . it had been a dream, hadn't it?
There had been a small kitten in it, black, with a white face and four white paws. It had a small golden splotch on its head. It was at the foot of his bed, and was apparently crying. The dream-Harry thought this was ridiculous. Cats can't cry. But it looked so sad and lonely and harmless . . .
Dream-Harry reached down to stroke the kitten. It turned its tear- stained face up to him, and mewed slightly at his touch. It nibbled gently at his finger. And suddenly, before dream-Harry could gather his bearings, it grew to become a huge panther that snarled at him. The tears continued to run down its cheeks as it circled him, almost like it was unwilling to kill him. Such large, sad eyes. Dream-Harry jumped off of the bed, and the cat followed his lead. Dream-Harry pulled out his wand and shouted something at the cat. It fell to the ground with a shocked look of remorse on its face. It seemed to blur around the edges, and then became—
Harry told himself to calm down. "Just a dream," he told himself. "Only a dream . . ." Even so, Harry wasn't very convinced. He felt almost certain that the cat had turned into a woman. She looked familiar, though he couldn't place a finger on who she was.
"What do dreams mean?" Harry asked himself, trying to brush away his disease.
Harry took one last deep breath of stale air and crawled out of bed. He was so utterly exhausted, but it was his first day teaching, and he needed to be ready for his class when they arrived. He threw on his robes and quickly brushed back his hair. As a last-minute touch, Harry hurriedly placed his glasses on his nose. With that, he rushed out of the room and down the hallway.
Making his way to the Great Hall, Harry stopped for a moment outside to catch his breath. He glanced around one of the heavy wooden doors into the room, and found it filled with children. "Argh . . ." Harry muttered, slowly making his way into the room. He tried to avoid being seen by all the students.
Alice stood up and waved to him. "Over here," she said in a very cheerful tone. She was wearing her usual robes; black with gold trim. Looking particularly cheerful, as well.
Harry sighed. He had wanted to enter unnoticed, but apparently it wasn't to happen. He made his way over to the head of the table and took a seat by Alice, who had by that time sat down again. She smiled.
"So, how does it feel to know you're a teacher now?"
Harry groaned. "I guess it's all right," he said. "I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Bad dreams?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm," Harry said dejectedly, picking up a spoon and dipping it half-heartedly into his bowl of oatmeal.
"That's too bad, but don't let it bother you too much."
"Yeah, that's what I told myself," he said. "Oh well."
"Yes," she said shortly. "Well, I wouldn't dwell on it."
"Yeah. So, how are you?"
"Fine. Wonderful!"
"That's nice. I'm starving."
"I'm not very hungry."
Harry choked back an 'of course not' as he continued to eat his cereal.
Alice nibbled on a slice of peach. "At least you don't preach on me, like Lupin."
"Let's talk about something else, shall we?"
"All right. Are you excited about starting classes today?"
Harry stared off into space: beyond the room. "Yeah, I suppose. I guess I don't really want all the students talking about 'the Great Harry Potter,' but I don't have much control over it. I've had to put up with that crap since I was at Hogwarts. I wish it would stop."
"Oh, I'm sure you've gotten used to it."
"Yes, I have, but still—"
"Don't let it bother you too much," she said. Her voice had an air of 'I-know-what-I'm-talking-about' in it.
"Okay. I won't."
Alice smiled and popped the rest of the peach into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. "Well, I guess it's just about time to start lessons. What's on your agenda today?"
"Not much. The norm. Rules, a little intro game . . . I guess that's all."
"Yeah, I want the students to get to know eachother. And me. It's one of those we're-stuck-together-for-seven-years-so-we-might-as-well-get- to-know-eachother-and-make-the-best-of-it things."
"Mm-hmm," Harry responded. He set down his spoon and took a long gulp of milk.
The Great Hall was crowded with students, and the ceiling was covered in gray clouds that looked heavy with rain.
"Looks like we can expect some weather," Alice remarked wryly. "At least we'll be indoors."
"I love the rain," Harry said.
"Me too," Alice said hastily. "I just hate getting wet."
"Yes, that is rather unpleasant."
Alice smiled. "But I like curling up in front of a nice, roaring blaze with a cup of hot tea and a nice book."
Harry laughed. "Yes, but you can do that in any weather."
Alice wrinkled her nose. "Who wants to do that in the summer when it's sweltering hot and you could be out on the beach?"
"Got me there . . ."
"I know I do!" She leaned back in her seat, laughing. Her huge purple eyes closed as her shoulders shook a little bit.
Harry smiled, watching her. She looked so happy!
Alice opened her eyes and looked dreamily into the distance. "Well, I guess it's about time to start classes . . ."
Harry scrunched up his face. "Yeah, I guess so . . ."
Alice stood up. "Well, students, finish eating. I believe that all the first years have Potions with Snape to start. That should be so much fun!" Alice ended sarcastically. The first years looked rather frightened. All the more experienced students snickered into their napkins. So, Miss Oak held a grudge against Professor Snape.
Harry stood up, still smiling. Stretching, he said, "Yes, Professor Snape always finds a way to make his classes extremely interesting. He makes a game out of docking points from Gryffindor."
"Yes, I do rather enjoy that."
Harry turned around to find Snape smiling coldly at him. His mocking eyes glared at Harry, making him squirm inwardly.
"Hello, Severus." Alice was also smiling at Snape.
Snape turned and nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence.
"I think my argument is not with you, dear, but with him." Snape's sardonic smile lured at Harry. He wanted nothing my than to punch him.
Alice continued to smile sweetly, but her purple eyes flashed with a vengeance Harry had never before seen. Flashing Snape an evil glance, she said with a poisonous undertone, "I believe, Severus, that I started the façade. I think that this little—argument, did you say? —is between you and me."
Snape continued to smile, his yellow teeth dully shining in the dim light. Greasy and in need of a good trim, his black hair swayed slightly as he bowed to her. "A duel, perhaps, tonight? I would be very honored to fight you." He looked into her eyes, and the anger in them was biting. His sallow face seemed to glow with a joy she had never seen.
Alice curtseyed. "Yes. Midnight. The Forbidden Forest."
Snape stood erect and nodded. "Yes, as you say."
"My second is Harry. And who might yours be?"
"I'll take . . ." Snape surveyed the Great Hall and realized that nobody present would fight for him. "I will take . . . the new one, Frank," he said as his eyes landed on Frank, briskly walking towards them.
"All right, then. Better tell him now." Alice's amused eyes seemed to scorn him.
"Erm . . . yes, I suppose so."
Frank stood by Alice, his face gleaming with sweat. "What's going on?" he asked.
Alice patted him on the back. "Don't you worry one bit, Frank. I've been asked by Snape to fight a duel."
"Okay . . ." Frank didn't seem to understand the relevance of this all.
"You're his second."
The puzzlement in Frank's green eyes seemed to grow even more intense. "I'm—I'm—"
"Yes, you're his second." Alice looked very joyful as she gently guided Frank into a chair.
Frank's hair was very tidy, but he found himself running his hand impulsively through it. "I can't. I won't."
Alice knelt down beside him. "Do it for me, will you?"
Frank just looked at her, his pouty lips curled in confusion. "But . . . I won't be helping you . . . Alice!"
She shrugged. "Come on. Midnight, at the Forbidden Forest. I promise, nothing bad will come of it."
Looking lost, Frank said in an imploring voice, "Alice . . ."
"No," she said resolutely, standing straight. She brushed at her black silk robes with her thin white hands and looked back at Snape, who had been grinning snidely the whole time. "All right. You can go now."
"Yes, I think I will. Good-day, Alice." Snape turned then and left to sit down at the Slytherin table.
It was then that Harry noticed that the hall was filled with a ringing silence. Everyone had been listening quite intently to the conversation held between Alice and Snape.
And he felt guilty. He, too, had been a part of the cause of the whole fight. Getting off so lightly was not fair to Alice. But then again, he knew that she would be able to duel Snape a lot better than he would have been able to.
Alice gave Frank a hug. "Thank you, Frank."
He sighed. He looked ready to be sick. "For you, I suppose. But really: Snape!"
"I know, I know." She turned toward Harry. "And thank you for being my second."
"No prob," Harry responded.
Alice turned to the silent students. "And who, may I ask, are you staring at?" she asked teasingly. "If you're done eating, head towards Snape's dungeon. Tell him I say hello!"
A few of the bolder students rushed off, hurrying to be the first to relay her message.
With the disturbance over and done with, the students were beginning to file out of the hall. A few of the teachers were talking excitedly to eachother in the corners of the room. Emily Rightsee walked over to Harry.
"Hi, Harry," she said. She was flashing him the whitest smile he'd seen, other than Alice's.
Harry felt some little jerk within him. He remembered something Alice had said: You'll find your bride at Hogwarts. Could this be she? Blinking rapidly, Harry came out of his trance.
"Hello, Ms. Rightsee."
"Oh please, call me Emily." She was glancing at him coyly.
Without a second thought, Harry said, "Well, I'd be very happy to walk you to your room before our classes begin." He might as well help Fate along a bit.
"Oh, you're too kind, Harry." Her soft green eyes looked into his, brimming over with emotions.
Alice was smiling at the two of them from out of their range of vision. Slowly shaking her head, she muttered, "Harry, Harry: when will you learn? There's no helping Fate along . . . would it be Fate otherwise?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Hello, students. Welcome to the class of History of Spells and Potions. You are the sixth year class, correct?
The students were staring blankly at him, nodding their heads. Several were obviously pureblooded magicians, because they looked it. One had black eyes, another was so tall that she seemed to almost touch the ceiling when standing, and one boy was so thin that Harry was sure that if he were to place his hands around his waist, they would fit around it with room to spare.
Harry swallowed and took a deep breath. "I am your professor, Harry Potter. I'm sure most of you know about me?"
More nodding of heads.
"Okay, well, let's hear from some of you. You probably know eachother, but I don't know you."
Harry then realized why they were so quiet. They were from Slytherin. Slytherins and Gryffindors had been long-standing rivals at Hogwarts.
"Hmmm . . ." Harry mused to himself. "How can I make them respond?"
Harry couldn't help but think of Alice. Surely she'd know how to make these students participate.
Suddenly, he heard her voice clearly in his head. "Crack some jokes about Snape. Talk about your boyhood with him. Talk about something they can relate to."
Harry smiled. Of course she knew his dilemma. She knew everything. And she had helped him.
"You know, Snape and I have never hit it well together . . ."
Alice's room reflected all the grandeur one would expect from her. The whole room was accessorized in ebony and gold, and even in the dim surroundings, a warm glow seemed to radiate about the place.
Alice smiled at the fearful sea of faces before her. "All right. I suppose that you are first year Gryffindors. I am one of the leaders of your house. We should have a great time together. I am Professor Oak, or Miss Oak. I prefer Miss Oak, if you don't mind."
The students seemed to be relaxing.
"Anyhow, I don't know any of you, and I really ought to, seeing as we'll be together for such a time. How about each of you stand up and recite for us your name, where you're from, and just a little bit about yourself. I'll start."
The students all smiled back at their young teacher.
"My name is Alice Oak, and I've been living all over the world, although I was born in Montgomery, Alabama. I like to fight the Dark Arts. I'm going to try to be a wonderful teacher for all of you. I love chocolate, fineries, and mint tea. I also love to cast spells. Now, how about you go next, Geraldine?"
And so the class related their lives to their teacher. Of course, they didn't have to. The moment Alice looked at Edward she knew that he was from Surrey, that his grandparents had all been wizards, and that he loved to play Quidditch (he was a Keeper). Even so, everyone seemed more comfortable after the go-around.
"Well, class is just about over. I'm not supposed to let you out early, but . . . I know what I used to like when I was your age." Alice gave them a bright smile. "You're dismissed. Tomorrow: wear something that you don't care about too much!"
The students filed out of the room, and Alice sat down at her desk, head in her hands. Was she ever tired! Longing for some time alone, she stood to close her door and tottered slightly on her weary feet. She put her hand on the golden doorknob and was about to push the door shut when she heard a voice say, "Mind if we come in?"
Alice sighed. "I suppose not. I really wanted to rest, but . . ."
She broke off and opened the door completely to find Harry, Lupin, and Frank standing in front of her. Not capable of helping herself, she smiled and motioned for them to sit down at a desk.
Harry sat in the front row, right in front of Alice's desk, and Frank and Lupin took seats on either side of him. Perching herself on the edge of her desk, Alice asked, "So, what's new?"
Harry looked thoughtful. "Not much," he admitted. Frank and Lupin nodded in agreement.
"Well then . . ."
"We just came to see how you are," Frank said innocently.
"And to ask you not to duel Snape," Lupin added pointedly.
Alice stood. "I cannot. It is under my guard of honor that I accept him. Besides, what makes you think that he can win me? He has no chance when it comes to a War of the Wands. You ought to know that by now!"
Harry looked at Frank. "Told you so."
"What?" Alice asked in an exasperated voice. "That I wouldn't give in? And what, may I ask, is wrong with that?"
"Nothing," Lupin said coolly. "Just that really, Alice, you've looked so tired and weak and sickly lately . . . we don't think it's a good idea."
Alice sat back down on her desk. "I've always been weak and sickly. You would know, Lupin." Alice cast Lupin a meaningful look. Harry and Frank looked at each other. What did she mean? "Of course, it's a good idea," she said. "I couldn't refuse, you know. Then I'd look like a coward. I'll bet Snape is cowering behind his desk right now, wondering why he ever asked."
But Snape was not. He had held the Gryffindor first years late and was lecturing them on the importance of keeping quiet during lessons.
"I don't want to hear rude interjections," he said. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Some teachers like for the students to put up arguments. Miss Oak likes nothing better. Even so, I am the teacher. You are supposed to listen to me and learn in turn!"
The students were all cringing. They already disliked Snape. No wonder Miss Oak didn't like him.
"Anyhow," he continued, pacing in front of his class, "I don't intent for such a rowdy lesson to ever happen again. To teach lessons, I punish." He paused for a moment to see if anyone would groan. No one did. "I am going to ask you to write a paper, entitled 'Why It Is Important to Not Interrupt the Teacher.' I expect it to be handed in two days from now. At least two scrolls of parchment."
Now the class groaned.
"Shall I make it three?" Snape asked with a cruel edge in his voice. Silence prevailed. "So I thought. You are dismissed."
After the class had filed out, muttered amongst themselves over the cruelty of their teacher, Snape followed. He was headed toward the Great Hall for a cup of coffee when he bumped into someone. He dropped the book he was carrying (Teaching Magic for Dummies), and stooped down to retrieve it. The other person also knelt. He saw that it was one of the new teachers, a Miss Emily someone or other. She seemed like a nice enough woman. Smiling lightly, she said, "Dear me, I'm so clumsy. Please excuse me . . . oh dear, what is your name?"
"Severus," Snape found himself muttering. His pallid, waxy face had turned somewhat pink.
"I'm Emily Rightsee," she replied, offering him her hand. He took it and shook it rather half-heartedly.
He looked at a pocket watch and feigned surprise. "Dear me, must be going . . ." He was gone.
"Odd men around here," Emily said to herself, shaking her head and continuing down the corridor. She turned a corner and heard laughter coming from a closed, black door on her left. She paused in front of it for a moment, pushing her black hair behind her ear. Most of it fell right back into her face.
"Oh Harry," a woman was saying. "Really, you are clueless, aren't you?"
Then a man said, "Yes, listen to us Dark Arts professors. A snizzletope is added to a broth made of rats' tails and sulfur boiled in pig's lard to create a very strong poison."
"Only a very few wizards are immune to it. And you are one of them. That is absolutely wonderful! It means that you cannot be poisoned in any way."
Emily pursed her lips. She wished that she was in there, laughing. She was rather fond of that Harry Potter. He seemed like a kind, likeable character. Summoning all the courage she could possibly muster, Emily walked to the door and tapped on it.
"Yes?" a man's voice questioned.
Yet before Emily could respond, the woman called, "Yes, Emily, do come in."
Puzzled, Emily pushed the door and walked inside. She was suddenly rather upset that she had invaded. Quiet seemed to spread across the room as she stood in the doorframe, not moving.
Alice leapt agilely from the desk and smiled. "Come on, sit down. Take the seat by Frank. There's a good girl."
Emily found herself being led to a comfortable looking desk, and then sitting down in it. Alice went back to the desk, pulled herself backward up onto it, and then began swinging her legs.
"What's the matter, boys?" she asked teasingly. "Can't say anything with two stunning women sitting in the room? It's impolite, to just gawk."
Harry smiled. "So, immune to poison, am I? And what good will that do me?"
"Trying to extricate more information from me, Harry?" Alice asked with a maddening gleam in those purple eyes. "I'm afraid I can't say, Harry. Yet you'll know. Someday, you'll know."
Emily sighed. "It's nice to sit down and have a friendly conversation with some people."
Frank nodded. "Well, I don't know if you can classify us as people. I mean, one is an ex-werewolf, two have defeated Lord Voldemort, one of them can transform into any shape that she chooses—" Alice smiled devilishly, "—but I suppose we are somewhat normal."
Emily tapped her fingers on the desk and didn't look at them. "Now I feel bad, like I don't know anything."
"Ah, don't," Harry said, leaning across Frank's desk to pat Emily on the hand. "Alice must have chosen you for some reason."
Glancing upwards, Alice said, "Lord help the one who doesn't believe Harry!"
Everyone burst out laughing, even Emily.
Meanwhile, Alice closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate very hard. Everyone stopped laughing, and Lupin said, "You okay?"
Alice didn't reply. Suddenly, where she had been sitting, there sat a small, fuzzy, pink creature with two very large, pointed ears that seemed to spiral about its head. It flopped from the desk on six stubby legs and landed in front of Emily.
Emily started giggling again. "Oh, she's really too good!"
Harry smiled. "Okay Alice, you've had your fun. Let's go eat, finish our classes, and . . . do the duel."
With a little pop, the small creature turned back into Alice, who was smiling mischievously. "All right, let's go eat."
The group made their way down the hall and to the Great Hall, where the students were already assembled. They sat down at their separate tables: Harry and Alice at the Gryffindor table, and the others at the staff's table.
Lunch was quiet. Alice was meditating on which spells she was to use to defeat Snape. She didn't want to mortally wound him or anything of the sort. She just wanted to give him a lesson he wouldn't forget.
Snape, meanwhile, was finally beginning to have second thoughts. He realized now how hasty his decision had been. Being aware of the fact that Alice was practically omnipotent, Snape knew he stood no chance in a duel. So he too began to think over which spells he ought to use.
Alice smiled. A humgobble apparition would be just the ticket, followed by a handful of swizzlegibbets and a Grumb spell.
Harry looked over at her. "Cheese?" he asked, offering her a tray.
"No, thank you," Alice responded, pushing the air with her hand. She bowed her head and her plate held a small cucumber sandwich (two pieces of bread, white, with small slices of cucumber stuck between them).
Harry looked skeptically at the mouthful of sandwich that sat before her. "You sure?" His quizzical eyes burned into hers.
"I'm sure," she replied, trying to keep her cool. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders and picked up the sandwich, nibbling around the edges. "I don't want to go back to classes."
"Neither do I," Harry said, digging into a steaming pile of pasta with bits of sausage. "I'm already sick of them."
"Yes, aren't we all." Alice sighed and took a dainty swallow of water.
Harry nodded, and a silence prevailed between the two of them.
Alice averted her gaze down to her lap. Her hands were folded neatly over her black silk skirt, and her golden hair fell over her face. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could instinctively feel overwhelming sadness radiating from her. Her shoulders were hunched over in a depressing, hopeless way.
Harry reached out to put an arm around her shoulder, but she cringed as his fingertips touched her. He drew back, not understanding her sudden moodiness.
"Harry," she said quietly, "I can't do it."
"Can't do what?"
"Fight Snape. It isn't fair. For him."
"I know. That's what we've been trying to tell you."
"But I can't call it off."
"I understand that."
Alice slowly raised her head and looked sorrowfully into Harry's eyes. Their gaze locked and in that moment, all of Alice's pain seemed to pass before Harry, and he looked away. "Don't call it off. Please," he begged of her.
She blinked once or twice. "Don't worry; I never planned on doing so."
She looked down at her plate of food and pushed it away disdainfully.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
Her hair fell into her face as she stood up and brushed off her dress. She smiled rather ruefully at Harry and turned. Not facing him, she said, "I'll be in my room."
Harry sighed. "Always in her room. Such an introvert."
One of the students walked over to Harry. "Professor," she said rather meekly, "my wand is broken."
"Broken?"
She looked downwards to her boots, which she was digging into the floor. "Yeah, my wand. It's acting really weird."
Harry smiled. "Let me look."
He took the wand into his hands and was frightened by the heat radiating from it. It nearly burned him. Fumbling and turning it, Harry tried not to drop the wand.
"What's wrong?" she asked questioningly.
"Nothing, nothing." Harry didn't want to show any signs of alarm. But he knew that such heat was generally a sign of powerful Dark Magic.
"Where'd you get this wand?"
The girl blushed, her pale cheeks turning bright red. She mumbled, "Second hand. I don't know where; my mother fetched it. I'm a Muggle."
Harry sharply drew in his breath. He was immediately reminded of Ginny, Ron's younger sister (now in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts). She had once gotten hold of a very powerful diary that almost ruined Hogwarts. It had at one time belonged to Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort.
Harry felt around in his pockets until he found his own battered wand. "Here, borrow this. I'll show this to Dumbledore, and then give it back when we've fixed it." He tossed the wand to the girl, who said, "Thank you," and then left the room.
He had no intention of bringing it to Dumbledore. He was going to take the wand to Alice. He walked briskly down the fairly deserted hallway and over to the portrait that was her doorway.
"She's sleeping," the portrait said cheekily.
"I don't give a damn," Harry retorted, sticking out his tongue. "You know who I am by now, so just open the damned door."
The portrait seemed taken aback for a moment, but then mustered to sarcastically reply, "Your wish is my command."
The portrait swirled into a small hole through which Harry ducked. Standing up straight again, Harry found Alice sleeping in the huge bed.
Harry didn't really want to awaken her, but this was important. He slowly and quietly made his way over to the bed, and then whispered, "Alice."
She groaned. "Hello, Harry." Stretching and yawning, she slowly sat straight. Her eyes snapped open as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face. "Wand? Let me see it."
Harry sometimes forgot that Alice knew all. He handed her the wand without objection and she turned it slowly over in her hands. As she fingered it, the wand began to glow red with heat.
"Jumping dragons," she muttered to herself. "Some curse. Some curse."
"What?" Harry asked, leaning closer.
"Obviously, powerful Dark Magic is at hand. Very powerful."
"Like, how powerful?"
Alice looked into his eyes, and he saw how serious it was. "Like, so powerful that the Muggle community, not to mention the magical community, is to be threatened."
"I don't understand."
"Voldemort." The wand was now spitting fire, which Alice was dousing with a perpetual fall of water. It didn't seem capable of burning her, but Harry didn't think this too odd. After all, this was Alice.
"Anyhow," she continued, finally letting the flaming wand fall to the ground, "I don't think we should let too many people in on this. Not yet."
"Yes, but—"
"There's no immediate danger, Harry. So what? A girl ended up with Voldemort's old wand. Let's not jump to conclusions. It doesn't mean that Voldemort is still out there. Even those who are gone from a place leave things behind. When my mother died, she left behind shelves of books and little magical trinkets. They're still out there, somewhere. So just take your time, Harry. Don't stress it."
"Yes, all right."
"Okay. Well, we'd better go and begin afternoon classes. And we have a duel tonight!"
Alice stood and walked over to the doorway with Harry. They walked through it and out into the hall. She turned to him again. "Don't let it bother you, Harry," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. With this she turned and walked down the hall.
Harry watched her for a moment, and then turned and made his way in the other direction.
There was another hour before the duel. Harry had asked Emily to sit with him by the lake. He had made her a crown of flowers, and she had placed one in his buttonhole. Together they were looking out across the lake, until it disappeared from their view by the rosy line of the horizon.
"I'm worried about Alice," Emily said, sighing.
"Yeah, me too." Harry looked rather upset. Alice. Alice had said that he would "find his bride at Hogwarts." Who had she meant? Who? Now he just felt utterly confused. He liked Emily well enough, but for some reason, she didn't strike him as the type to be his wife. She could be awfully coy and flirtatious at times. As for Alice, she had talked about her future as though it were completely separate from his. And then there was Frank . . .
Harry felt that Frank and Alice had a special friendship that he wasn't a part of. Just the other day, Frank had said something to the extent of "my birthday is coming up soon."
And, without thinking, Alice had replied, "When?"
Harry had felt completely shocked. She didn't know. She didn't know something. But the scariest part was when she laughed and had looked . . . surprised. Utterly surprised. Harry had never seen her look that way before.
Sighing deeply, he stood. The days were getting chilly, and now that the sun was almost gone, Harry could feel the bite of winter deep within his bones. He helped Emily up and they started back towards the castle.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Emily was looking at Harry; looking deep into the very depths of his soul. Harry turned away. "Nothing," he muttered, picking up his pace.
"Is it the duel?"
"Yeah," he sputtered, not telling her his secret jealousy of Frank.
And to make matters worse, Harry found Alice and Frank in the orchard together as he neared the door. Alice was up in a tree, and Frank was pretending to not be able to climb it. Alice was laughing and laughing. She looked so happy.
Harry opened the door, waited for Emily to go through it, and then slammed it bitterly.
"What's wrong?" she asked again.
"Nothing. I'm just . . . really tired. I need to spend some time alone."
Harry stalked off in the direction of his room. Emily just stood there for a moment, and then moved to the mirror, where she fixed her hair a little bit. "Well, that went really well . . ."
She turned as the door opened and a gust of cold air filled the room. She drew what little robes she had on about her. Her bright red, mini- robe was not the ideal outfit for this weather, especially with its low-cut neck.
Alice was still laughing as she stumbled into the room, grabbing for the doorpost to lean on. Her cheeks were rosy with the bite of the fall chill and her robes looked damp from the light mist that was falling outside. Frank had a merry sparkle in his eyes as he walked into the room. Glancing at Emily, he smiled broadly.
"Hello, m' dear. Didn't see you."
"Yes, I suppose not. I'm going to go get ready for the duel. Really, I need to wear a cloak or something." She looked down at her short robes.
Frank also looked at the alluring outfit. "Yes . . . that would be wise . . ."
Alice walked over to Emily. "I'd better get ready as well. You too, Frank."
Frank suddenly looked solemn. "Yes, that would be wise . . ."
"Yes, it would be wise . . ." Alice glanced at him mockingly. "Is that all you can say? One would think you're a parrot. Now go on; we don't want to be late!"
"Bye now," Emily said, turning back to the mirror.
Alice scuttled off down the dark corridor, Frank following slowly behind. He was too tired to care. And really, he didn't want to see the duel. He knew Alice could beat Snape, doubtlessly she could, but still . . .
Being completely lost in his thoughts, Frank found himself colliding with somebody. He fell flat upon the hardwood floor, and a pile of books and the like fell on top of him.
Frank looked up to see Snape glaring contemptuously at him. "My books, please?" he growled.
Frank picked up one of the books. Dangerous Spells for the Insecure Wizard.
"That's interesting," Frank said, as he gathered the rest into his arms. He handed Snape the stack of books.
"Thank you," he hissed, turning on his heel and stomping off down the hall. Frank just sat there for a moment, and then brushed himself off and hurried toward his room. He did want to see Alice beat that unlikable Snape, after all.
"Maybe she just forgot," McGonagall muttered, knowing deep inside that that was certainly no possibility.
Snape was smirking in center of the crowd of teachers and seventh years. "So, our brave hero doesn't have a heart of iron after all, eh?"
Harry glared at him. "Just shut up. Really, I know that something must have happened. Alice never goes back on her word."
Frank and Emily nodded in agreement. Everyone, except Snape, seemed worried.
"No," Snape said in a cold, laughing manner. "I'm sure she just chickened out. She knew she couldn't beat me!"
It was dark outside, but everyone could see Snape's eyes glowing wickedly. Harry couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm going to look for her," he said in a disgusted voice, "for no one else seems to care."
"Wait—I'll come," McGonagall said.
"No, that's all right," Harry assured her, his voice softening somewhat. "I'll find her. Myself."
Harry walked off into the darkness. The trees of the Forbidden Forest loomed about him, and he could hear the ghastly howls and shrieks of terrifying, unidentified creatures. The ground was sodden (with rain? or blood?), which made walking harder than usual.
He looked all about him, but in the dense vegetation, it was hard to make out any shape. He began to call for her.
"Alice! Alice? Are you here?"
He got no reply other than chilling silence.
It began to sleet, and Harry found that it was far too cold for him to go much longer. But he had this feeling . . . something was terribly wrong. Alice was ill. Or had had one of her fits. Or maybe she had been hurt . . .
Harry was so lost in his worry that he forgot to watch where he was going and tripped over something lying in his path. He fell forward and landed on the object blocking his way. With his face buried in the snow, he couldn't look at the object, but it was soft. It was covered in fabric. Harry pushed himself onto his knees.
It was Alice.
"Goddamn," he muttered, slapping her face. She was as white as the thin, slushy snow that was falling all about them. Her purple eyes were frozen open with a look of horror in her eyes, and her thin hands were colder than ice.
"Just wake up," Harry said, rubbing her arms vigorously. "You are the most trouble of anyone I have ever met . . . so weak . . . so stubborn . . . so nerve-rackingly intelligent . . ." He punctuated each of his lamentations with a sharp slap to her face.
After her face had become red with Harry's hand hitting it repeatedly, she moaned slightly. The dark was gathering closely to them.
Harry ran over to a small puddle of cold water. Cupping his hands, he managed to scoop some of it and carry it over to Alice. He dribbled it over her face, and she moved her head away from it slightly.
Harry sat down beside her and placed his head on his knees. Neither of them talked for a moment.
After an uncomfortable pause, Alice raised her head and managed to clumsily turn herself to rest on her elbow. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. "I missed the duel, didn't I?" she asked in a hoarse voice.
"Yes," Harry said. He peered off into the darkness that engulfed them.
Upon hearing this reply, Alice seemed slightly comforted. "That's fine."
Harry lifted his head and gawked at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she coolly responded, "that I didn't want to have to hurt Snape. He stood absolutely no chance."
"But—but—you've been disgraced!"
"Not really. I had another fit. I couldn't help it." She was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Thank you for finding me."
His eyes locked with hers, but there was no feeling in her eyes. Just an overwhelming sadness. She often puzzled him in such a way.
She smiled ruefully. "I can't help my emotionless state, Harry. Please forgive me at times. It's just . . ." She looked as though she were at a loss for words. "It's just . . . my life is one long script that has already been written, and then rehearsed uncountable times in my head . . ." (Harry had an odd feeling that she knew the exact uncountable number), " . . . and nothing surprises me anymore. Except . . ." She looked reluctant to go any further.
Harry, trying to be of comfort, said, "I understand."
"No," Alice replied, with a sorrowful shake of her head, "you do not." She shifted her weight to her leg and tried to stand, but with a cry of pain she collapsed into the ever-growing drifts of snow about them.
"I can't move yet," she managed weakly, leaning against a tree.
"All right. I'll wait with you. No worries."
"They'll be looking for us soon."
"Let them look."
"Yes," Alice said in a sleepy voice, "let them." She closed her eyes, and Harry kept silent vigil as she dozed peacefully.
An hour later, they were found. But not by whom they had expected.
by Hannah
Chapter Six ~ The Duel
Harry awoke to find himself tangled in his gray sheets, damp with a cold sweat. He took a deep breath or two. His dream . . . it had been a dream, hadn't it?
There had been a small kitten in it, black, with a white face and four white paws. It had a small golden splotch on its head. It was at the foot of his bed, and was apparently crying. The dream-Harry thought this was ridiculous. Cats can't cry. But it looked so sad and lonely and harmless . . .
Dream-Harry reached down to stroke the kitten. It turned its tear- stained face up to him, and mewed slightly at his touch. It nibbled gently at his finger. And suddenly, before dream-Harry could gather his bearings, it grew to become a huge panther that snarled at him. The tears continued to run down its cheeks as it circled him, almost like it was unwilling to kill him. Such large, sad eyes. Dream-Harry jumped off of the bed, and the cat followed his lead. Dream-Harry pulled out his wand and shouted something at the cat. It fell to the ground with a shocked look of remorse on its face. It seemed to blur around the edges, and then became—
Harry told himself to calm down. "Just a dream," he told himself. "Only a dream . . ." Even so, Harry wasn't very convinced. He felt almost certain that the cat had turned into a woman. She looked familiar, though he couldn't place a finger on who she was.
"What do dreams mean?" Harry asked himself, trying to brush away his disease.
Harry took one last deep breath of stale air and crawled out of bed. He was so utterly exhausted, but it was his first day teaching, and he needed to be ready for his class when they arrived. He threw on his robes and quickly brushed back his hair. As a last-minute touch, Harry hurriedly placed his glasses on his nose. With that, he rushed out of the room and down the hallway.
Making his way to the Great Hall, Harry stopped for a moment outside to catch his breath. He glanced around one of the heavy wooden doors into the room, and found it filled with children. "Argh . . ." Harry muttered, slowly making his way into the room. He tried to avoid being seen by all the students.
Alice stood up and waved to him. "Over here," she said in a very cheerful tone. She was wearing her usual robes; black with gold trim. Looking particularly cheerful, as well.
Harry sighed. He had wanted to enter unnoticed, but apparently it wasn't to happen. He made his way over to the head of the table and took a seat by Alice, who had by that time sat down again. She smiled.
"So, how does it feel to know you're a teacher now?"
Harry groaned. "I guess it's all right," he said. "I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Bad dreams?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm," Harry said dejectedly, picking up a spoon and dipping it half-heartedly into his bowl of oatmeal.
"That's too bad, but don't let it bother you too much."
"Yeah, that's what I told myself," he said. "Oh well."
"Yes," she said shortly. "Well, I wouldn't dwell on it."
"Yeah. So, how are you?"
"Fine. Wonderful!"
"That's nice. I'm starving."
"I'm not very hungry."
Harry choked back an 'of course not' as he continued to eat his cereal.
Alice nibbled on a slice of peach. "At least you don't preach on me, like Lupin."
"Let's talk about something else, shall we?"
"All right. Are you excited about starting classes today?"
Harry stared off into space: beyond the room. "Yeah, I suppose. I guess I don't really want all the students talking about 'the Great Harry Potter,' but I don't have much control over it. I've had to put up with that crap since I was at Hogwarts. I wish it would stop."
"Oh, I'm sure you've gotten used to it."
"Yes, I have, but still—"
"Don't let it bother you too much," she said. Her voice had an air of 'I-know-what-I'm-talking-about' in it.
"Okay. I won't."
Alice smiled and popped the rest of the peach into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. "Well, I guess it's just about time to start lessons. What's on your agenda today?"
"Not much. The norm. Rules, a little intro game . . . I guess that's all."
"Yeah, I want the students to get to know eachother. And me. It's one of those we're-stuck-together-for-seven-years-so-we-might-as-well-get- to-know-eachother-and-make-the-best-of-it things."
"Mm-hmm," Harry responded. He set down his spoon and took a long gulp of milk.
The Great Hall was crowded with students, and the ceiling was covered in gray clouds that looked heavy with rain.
"Looks like we can expect some weather," Alice remarked wryly. "At least we'll be indoors."
"I love the rain," Harry said.
"Me too," Alice said hastily. "I just hate getting wet."
"Yes, that is rather unpleasant."
Alice smiled. "But I like curling up in front of a nice, roaring blaze with a cup of hot tea and a nice book."
Harry laughed. "Yes, but you can do that in any weather."
Alice wrinkled her nose. "Who wants to do that in the summer when it's sweltering hot and you could be out on the beach?"
"Got me there . . ."
"I know I do!" She leaned back in her seat, laughing. Her huge purple eyes closed as her shoulders shook a little bit.
Harry smiled, watching her. She looked so happy!
Alice opened her eyes and looked dreamily into the distance. "Well, I guess it's about time to start classes . . ."
Harry scrunched up his face. "Yeah, I guess so . . ."
Alice stood up. "Well, students, finish eating. I believe that all the first years have Potions with Snape to start. That should be so much fun!" Alice ended sarcastically. The first years looked rather frightened. All the more experienced students snickered into their napkins. So, Miss Oak held a grudge against Professor Snape.
Harry stood up, still smiling. Stretching, he said, "Yes, Professor Snape always finds a way to make his classes extremely interesting. He makes a game out of docking points from Gryffindor."
"Yes, I do rather enjoy that."
Harry turned around to find Snape smiling coldly at him. His mocking eyes glared at Harry, making him squirm inwardly.
"Hello, Severus." Alice was also smiling at Snape.
Snape turned and nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence.
"I think my argument is not with you, dear, but with him." Snape's sardonic smile lured at Harry. He wanted nothing my than to punch him.
Alice continued to smile sweetly, but her purple eyes flashed with a vengeance Harry had never before seen. Flashing Snape an evil glance, she said with a poisonous undertone, "I believe, Severus, that I started the façade. I think that this little—argument, did you say? —is between you and me."
Snape continued to smile, his yellow teeth dully shining in the dim light. Greasy and in need of a good trim, his black hair swayed slightly as he bowed to her. "A duel, perhaps, tonight? I would be very honored to fight you." He looked into her eyes, and the anger in them was biting. His sallow face seemed to glow with a joy she had never seen.
Alice curtseyed. "Yes. Midnight. The Forbidden Forest."
Snape stood erect and nodded. "Yes, as you say."
"My second is Harry. And who might yours be?"
"I'll take . . ." Snape surveyed the Great Hall and realized that nobody present would fight for him. "I will take . . . the new one, Frank," he said as his eyes landed on Frank, briskly walking towards them.
"All right, then. Better tell him now." Alice's amused eyes seemed to scorn him.
"Erm . . . yes, I suppose so."
Frank stood by Alice, his face gleaming with sweat. "What's going on?" he asked.
Alice patted him on the back. "Don't you worry one bit, Frank. I've been asked by Snape to fight a duel."
"Okay . . ." Frank didn't seem to understand the relevance of this all.
"You're his second."
The puzzlement in Frank's green eyes seemed to grow even more intense. "I'm—I'm—"
"Yes, you're his second." Alice looked very joyful as she gently guided Frank into a chair.
Frank's hair was very tidy, but he found himself running his hand impulsively through it. "I can't. I won't."
Alice knelt down beside him. "Do it for me, will you?"
Frank just looked at her, his pouty lips curled in confusion. "But . . . I won't be helping you . . . Alice!"
She shrugged. "Come on. Midnight, at the Forbidden Forest. I promise, nothing bad will come of it."
Looking lost, Frank said in an imploring voice, "Alice . . ."
"No," she said resolutely, standing straight. She brushed at her black silk robes with her thin white hands and looked back at Snape, who had been grinning snidely the whole time. "All right. You can go now."
"Yes, I think I will. Good-day, Alice." Snape turned then and left to sit down at the Slytherin table.
It was then that Harry noticed that the hall was filled with a ringing silence. Everyone had been listening quite intently to the conversation held between Alice and Snape.
And he felt guilty. He, too, had been a part of the cause of the whole fight. Getting off so lightly was not fair to Alice. But then again, he knew that she would be able to duel Snape a lot better than he would have been able to.
Alice gave Frank a hug. "Thank you, Frank."
He sighed. He looked ready to be sick. "For you, I suppose. But really: Snape!"
"I know, I know." She turned toward Harry. "And thank you for being my second."
"No prob," Harry responded.
Alice turned to the silent students. "And who, may I ask, are you staring at?" she asked teasingly. "If you're done eating, head towards Snape's dungeon. Tell him I say hello!"
A few of the bolder students rushed off, hurrying to be the first to relay her message.
With the disturbance over and done with, the students were beginning to file out of the hall. A few of the teachers were talking excitedly to eachother in the corners of the room. Emily Rightsee walked over to Harry.
"Hi, Harry," she said. She was flashing him the whitest smile he'd seen, other than Alice's.
Harry felt some little jerk within him. He remembered something Alice had said: You'll find your bride at Hogwarts. Could this be she? Blinking rapidly, Harry came out of his trance.
"Hello, Ms. Rightsee."
"Oh please, call me Emily." She was glancing at him coyly.
Without a second thought, Harry said, "Well, I'd be very happy to walk you to your room before our classes begin." He might as well help Fate along a bit.
"Oh, you're too kind, Harry." Her soft green eyes looked into his, brimming over with emotions.
Alice was smiling at the two of them from out of their range of vision. Slowly shaking her head, she muttered, "Harry, Harry: when will you learn? There's no helping Fate along . . . would it be Fate otherwise?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Hello, students. Welcome to the class of History of Spells and Potions. You are the sixth year class, correct?
The students were staring blankly at him, nodding their heads. Several were obviously pureblooded magicians, because they looked it. One had black eyes, another was so tall that she seemed to almost touch the ceiling when standing, and one boy was so thin that Harry was sure that if he were to place his hands around his waist, they would fit around it with room to spare.
Harry swallowed and took a deep breath. "I am your professor, Harry Potter. I'm sure most of you know about me?"
More nodding of heads.
"Okay, well, let's hear from some of you. You probably know eachother, but I don't know you."
Harry then realized why they were so quiet. They were from Slytherin. Slytherins and Gryffindors had been long-standing rivals at Hogwarts.
"Hmmm . . ." Harry mused to himself. "How can I make them respond?"
Harry couldn't help but think of Alice. Surely she'd know how to make these students participate.
Suddenly, he heard her voice clearly in his head. "Crack some jokes about Snape. Talk about your boyhood with him. Talk about something they can relate to."
Harry smiled. Of course she knew his dilemma. She knew everything. And she had helped him.
"You know, Snape and I have never hit it well together . . ."
Alice's room reflected all the grandeur one would expect from her. The whole room was accessorized in ebony and gold, and even in the dim surroundings, a warm glow seemed to radiate about the place.
Alice smiled at the fearful sea of faces before her. "All right. I suppose that you are first year Gryffindors. I am one of the leaders of your house. We should have a great time together. I am Professor Oak, or Miss Oak. I prefer Miss Oak, if you don't mind."
The students seemed to be relaxing.
"Anyhow, I don't know any of you, and I really ought to, seeing as we'll be together for such a time. How about each of you stand up and recite for us your name, where you're from, and just a little bit about yourself. I'll start."
The students all smiled back at their young teacher.
"My name is Alice Oak, and I've been living all over the world, although I was born in Montgomery, Alabama. I like to fight the Dark Arts. I'm going to try to be a wonderful teacher for all of you. I love chocolate, fineries, and mint tea. I also love to cast spells. Now, how about you go next, Geraldine?"
And so the class related their lives to their teacher. Of course, they didn't have to. The moment Alice looked at Edward she knew that he was from Surrey, that his grandparents had all been wizards, and that he loved to play Quidditch (he was a Keeper). Even so, everyone seemed more comfortable after the go-around.
"Well, class is just about over. I'm not supposed to let you out early, but . . . I know what I used to like when I was your age." Alice gave them a bright smile. "You're dismissed. Tomorrow: wear something that you don't care about too much!"
The students filed out of the room, and Alice sat down at her desk, head in her hands. Was she ever tired! Longing for some time alone, she stood to close her door and tottered slightly on her weary feet. She put her hand on the golden doorknob and was about to push the door shut when she heard a voice say, "Mind if we come in?"
Alice sighed. "I suppose not. I really wanted to rest, but . . ."
She broke off and opened the door completely to find Harry, Lupin, and Frank standing in front of her. Not capable of helping herself, she smiled and motioned for them to sit down at a desk.
Harry sat in the front row, right in front of Alice's desk, and Frank and Lupin took seats on either side of him. Perching herself on the edge of her desk, Alice asked, "So, what's new?"
Harry looked thoughtful. "Not much," he admitted. Frank and Lupin nodded in agreement.
"Well then . . ."
"We just came to see how you are," Frank said innocently.
"And to ask you not to duel Snape," Lupin added pointedly.
Alice stood. "I cannot. It is under my guard of honor that I accept him. Besides, what makes you think that he can win me? He has no chance when it comes to a War of the Wands. You ought to know that by now!"
Harry looked at Frank. "Told you so."
"What?" Alice asked in an exasperated voice. "That I wouldn't give in? And what, may I ask, is wrong with that?"
"Nothing," Lupin said coolly. "Just that really, Alice, you've looked so tired and weak and sickly lately . . . we don't think it's a good idea."
Alice sat back down on her desk. "I've always been weak and sickly. You would know, Lupin." Alice cast Lupin a meaningful look. Harry and Frank looked at each other. What did she mean? "Of course, it's a good idea," she said. "I couldn't refuse, you know. Then I'd look like a coward. I'll bet Snape is cowering behind his desk right now, wondering why he ever asked."
But Snape was not. He had held the Gryffindor first years late and was lecturing them on the importance of keeping quiet during lessons.
"I don't want to hear rude interjections," he said. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Some teachers like for the students to put up arguments. Miss Oak likes nothing better. Even so, I am the teacher. You are supposed to listen to me and learn in turn!"
The students were all cringing. They already disliked Snape. No wonder Miss Oak didn't like him.
"Anyhow," he continued, pacing in front of his class, "I don't intent for such a rowdy lesson to ever happen again. To teach lessons, I punish." He paused for a moment to see if anyone would groan. No one did. "I am going to ask you to write a paper, entitled 'Why It Is Important to Not Interrupt the Teacher.' I expect it to be handed in two days from now. At least two scrolls of parchment."
Now the class groaned.
"Shall I make it three?" Snape asked with a cruel edge in his voice. Silence prevailed. "So I thought. You are dismissed."
After the class had filed out, muttered amongst themselves over the cruelty of their teacher, Snape followed. He was headed toward the Great Hall for a cup of coffee when he bumped into someone. He dropped the book he was carrying (Teaching Magic for Dummies), and stooped down to retrieve it. The other person also knelt. He saw that it was one of the new teachers, a Miss Emily someone or other. She seemed like a nice enough woman. Smiling lightly, she said, "Dear me, I'm so clumsy. Please excuse me . . . oh dear, what is your name?"
"Severus," Snape found himself muttering. His pallid, waxy face had turned somewhat pink.
"I'm Emily Rightsee," she replied, offering him her hand. He took it and shook it rather half-heartedly.
He looked at a pocket watch and feigned surprise. "Dear me, must be going . . ." He was gone.
"Odd men around here," Emily said to herself, shaking her head and continuing down the corridor. She turned a corner and heard laughter coming from a closed, black door on her left. She paused in front of it for a moment, pushing her black hair behind her ear. Most of it fell right back into her face.
"Oh Harry," a woman was saying. "Really, you are clueless, aren't you?"
Then a man said, "Yes, listen to us Dark Arts professors. A snizzletope is added to a broth made of rats' tails and sulfur boiled in pig's lard to create a very strong poison."
"Only a very few wizards are immune to it. And you are one of them. That is absolutely wonderful! It means that you cannot be poisoned in any way."
Emily pursed her lips. She wished that she was in there, laughing. She was rather fond of that Harry Potter. He seemed like a kind, likeable character. Summoning all the courage she could possibly muster, Emily walked to the door and tapped on it.
"Yes?" a man's voice questioned.
Yet before Emily could respond, the woman called, "Yes, Emily, do come in."
Puzzled, Emily pushed the door and walked inside. She was suddenly rather upset that she had invaded. Quiet seemed to spread across the room as she stood in the doorframe, not moving.
Alice leapt agilely from the desk and smiled. "Come on, sit down. Take the seat by Frank. There's a good girl."
Emily found herself being led to a comfortable looking desk, and then sitting down in it. Alice went back to the desk, pulled herself backward up onto it, and then began swinging her legs.
"What's the matter, boys?" she asked teasingly. "Can't say anything with two stunning women sitting in the room? It's impolite, to just gawk."
Harry smiled. "So, immune to poison, am I? And what good will that do me?"
"Trying to extricate more information from me, Harry?" Alice asked with a maddening gleam in those purple eyes. "I'm afraid I can't say, Harry. Yet you'll know. Someday, you'll know."
Emily sighed. "It's nice to sit down and have a friendly conversation with some people."
Frank nodded. "Well, I don't know if you can classify us as people. I mean, one is an ex-werewolf, two have defeated Lord Voldemort, one of them can transform into any shape that she chooses—" Alice smiled devilishly, "—but I suppose we are somewhat normal."
Emily tapped her fingers on the desk and didn't look at them. "Now I feel bad, like I don't know anything."
"Ah, don't," Harry said, leaning across Frank's desk to pat Emily on the hand. "Alice must have chosen you for some reason."
Glancing upwards, Alice said, "Lord help the one who doesn't believe Harry!"
Everyone burst out laughing, even Emily.
Meanwhile, Alice closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate very hard. Everyone stopped laughing, and Lupin said, "You okay?"
Alice didn't reply. Suddenly, where she had been sitting, there sat a small, fuzzy, pink creature with two very large, pointed ears that seemed to spiral about its head. It flopped from the desk on six stubby legs and landed in front of Emily.
Emily started giggling again. "Oh, she's really too good!"
Harry smiled. "Okay Alice, you've had your fun. Let's go eat, finish our classes, and . . . do the duel."
With a little pop, the small creature turned back into Alice, who was smiling mischievously. "All right, let's go eat."
The group made their way down the hall and to the Great Hall, where the students were already assembled. They sat down at their separate tables: Harry and Alice at the Gryffindor table, and the others at the staff's table.
Lunch was quiet. Alice was meditating on which spells she was to use to defeat Snape. She didn't want to mortally wound him or anything of the sort. She just wanted to give him a lesson he wouldn't forget.
Snape, meanwhile, was finally beginning to have second thoughts. He realized now how hasty his decision had been. Being aware of the fact that Alice was practically omnipotent, Snape knew he stood no chance in a duel. So he too began to think over which spells he ought to use.
Alice smiled. A humgobble apparition would be just the ticket, followed by a handful of swizzlegibbets and a Grumb spell.
Harry looked over at her. "Cheese?" he asked, offering her a tray.
"No, thank you," Alice responded, pushing the air with her hand. She bowed her head and her plate held a small cucumber sandwich (two pieces of bread, white, with small slices of cucumber stuck between them).
Harry looked skeptically at the mouthful of sandwich that sat before her. "You sure?" His quizzical eyes burned into hers.
"I'm sure," she replied, trying to keep her cool. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders and picked up the sandwich, nibbling around the edges. "I don't want to go back to classes."
"Neither do I," Harry said, digging into a steaming pile of pasta with bits of sausage. "I'm already sick of them."
"Yes, aren't we all." Alice sighed and took a dainty swallow of water.
Harry nodded, and a silence prevailed between the two of them.
Alice averted her gaze down to her lap. Her hands were folded neatly over her black silk skirt, and her golden hair fell over her face. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could instinctively feel overwhelming sadness radiating from her. Her shoulders were hunched over in a depressing, hopeless way.
Harry reached out to put an arm around her shoulder, but she cringed as his fingertips touched her. He drew back, not understanding her sudden moodiness.
"Harry," she said quietly, "I can't do it."
"Can't do what?"
"Fight Snape. It isn't fair. For him."
"I know. That's what we've been trying to tell you."
"But I can't call it off."
"I understand that."
Alice slowly raised her head and looked sorrowfully into Harry's eyes. Their gaze locked and in that moment, all of Alice's pain seemed to pass before Harry, and he looked away. "Don't call it off. Please," he begged of her.
She blinked once or twice. "Don't worry; I never planned on doing so."
She looked down at her plate of food and pushed it away disdainfully.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
Her hair fell into her face as she stood up and brushed off her dress. She smiled rather ruefully at Harry and turned. Not facing him, she said, "I'll be in my room."
Harry sighed. "Always in her room. Such an introvert."
One of the students walked over to Harry. "Professor," she said rather meekly, "my wand is broken."
"Broken?"
She looked downwards to her boots, which she was digging into the floor. "Yeah, my wand. It's acting really weird."
Harry smiled. "Let me look."
He took the wand into his hands and was frightened by the heat radiating from it. It nearly burned him. Fumbling and turning it, Harry tried not to drop the wand.
"What's wrong?" she asked questioningly.
"Nothing, nothing." Harry didn't want to show any signs of alarm. But he knew that such heat was generally a sign of powerful Dark Magic.
"Where'd you get this wand?"
The girl blushed, her pale cheeks turning bright red. She mumbled, "Second hand. I don't know where; my mother fetched it. I'm a Muggle."
Harry sharply drew in his breath. He was immediately reminded of Ginny, Ron's younger sister (now in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts). She had once gotten hold of a very powerful diary that almost ruined Hogwarts. It had at one time belonged to Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort.
Harry felt around in his pockets until he found his own battered wand. "Here, borrow this. I'll show this to Dumbledore, and then give it back when we've fixed it." He tossed the wand to the girl, who said, "Thank you," and then left the room.
He had no intention of bringing it to Dumbledore. He was going to take the wand to Alice. He walked briskly down the fairly deserted hallway and over to the portrait that was her doorway.
"She's sleeping," the portrait said cheekily.
"I don't give a damn," Harry retorted, sticking out his tongue. "You know who I am by now, so just open the damned door."
The portrait seemed taken aback for a moment, but then mustered to sarcastically reply, "Your wish is my command."
The portrait swirled into a small hole through which Harry ducked. Standing up straight again, Harry found Alice sleeping in the huge bed.
Harry didn't really want to awaken her, but this was important. He slowly and quietly made his way over to the bed, and then whispered, "Alice."
She groaned. "Hello, Harry." Stretching and yawning, she slowly sat straight. Her eyes snapped open as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face. "Wand? Let me see it."
Harry sometimes forgot that Alice knew all. He handed her the wand without objection and she turned it slowly over in her hands. As she fingered it, the wand began to glow red with heat.
"Jumping dragons," she muttered to herself. "Some curse. Some curse."
"What?" Harry asked, leaning closer.
"Obviously, powerful Dark Magic is at hand. Very powerful."
"Like, how powerful?"
Alice looked into his eyes, and he saw how serious it was. "Like, so powerful that the Muggle community, not to mention the magical community, is to be threatened."
"I don't understand."
"Voldemort." The wand was now spitting fire, which Alice was dousing with a perpetual fall of water. It didn't seem capable of burning her, but Harry didn't think this too odd. After all, this was Alice.
"Anyhow," she continued, finally letting the flaming wand fall to the ground, "I don't think we should let too many people in on this. Not yet."
"Yes, but—"
"There's no immediate danger, Harry. So what? A girl ended up with Voldemort's old wand. Let's not jump to conclusions. It doesn't mean that Voldemort is still out there. Even those who are gone from a place leave things behind. When my mother died, she left behind shelves of books and little magical trinkets. They're still out there, somewhere. So just take your time, Harry. Don't stress it."
"Yes, all right."
"Okay. Well, we'd better go and begin afternoon classes. And we have a duel tonight!"
Alice stood and walked over to the doorway with Harry. They walked through it and out into the hall. She turned to him again. "Don't let it bother you, Harry," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. With this she turned and walked down the hall.
Harry watched her for a moment, and then turned and made his way in the other direction.
There was another hour before the duel. Harry had asked Emily to sit with him by the lake. He had made her a crown of flowers, and she had placed one in his buttonhole. Together they were looking out across the lake, until it disappeared from their view by the rosy line of the horizon.
"I'm worried about Alice," Emily said, sighing.
"Yeah, me too." Harry looked rather upset. Alice. Alice had said that he would "find his bride at Hogwarts." Who had she meant? Who? Now he just felt utterly confused. He liked Emily well enough, but for some reason, she didn't strike him as the type to be his wife. She could be awfully coy and flirtatious at times. As for Alice, she had talked about her future as though it were completely separate from his. And then there was Frank . . .
Harry felt that Frank and Alice had a special friendship that he wasn't a part of. Just the other day, Frank had said something to the extent of "my birthday is coming up soon."
And, without thinking, Alice had replied, "When?"
Harry had felt completely shocked. She didn't know. She didn't know something. But the scariest part was when she laughed and had looked . . . surprised. Utterly surprised. Harry had never seen her look that way before.
Sighing deeply, he stood. The days were getting chilly, and now that the sun was almost gone, Harry could feel the bite of winter deep within his bones. He helped Emily up and they started back towards the castle.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Emily was looking at Harry; looking deep into the very depths of his soul. Harry turned away. "Nothing," he muttered, picking up his pace.
"Is it the duel?"
"Yeah," he sputtered, not telling her his secret jealousy of Frank.
And to make matters worse, Harry found Alice and Frank in the orchard together as he neared the door. Alice was up in a tree, and Frank was pretending to not be able to climb it. Alice was laughing and laughing. She looked so happy.
Harry opened the door, waited for Emily to go through it, and then slammed it bitterly.
"What's wrong?" she asked again.
"Nothing. I'm just . . . really tired. I need to spend some time alone."
Harry stalked off in the direction of his room. Emily just stood there for a moment, and then moved to the mirror, where she fixed her hair a little bit. "Well, that went really well . . ."
She turned as the door opened and a gust of cold air filled the room. She drew what little robes she had on about her. Her bright red, mini- robe was not the ideal outfit for this weather, especially with its low-cut neck.
Alice was still laughing as she stumbled into the room, grabbing for the doorpost to lean on. Her cheeks were rosy with the bite of the fall chill and her robes looked damp from the light mist that was falling outside. Frank had a merry sparkle in his eyes as he walked into the room. Glancing at Emily, he smiled broadly.
"Hello, m' dear. Didn't see you."
"Yes, I suppose not. I'm going to go get ready for the duel. Really, I need to wear a cloak or something." She looked down at her short robes.
Frank also looked at the alluring outfit. "Yes . . . that would be wise . . ."
Alice walked over to Emily. "I'd better get ready as well. You too, Frank."
Frank suddenly looked solemn. "Yes, that would be wise . . ."
"Yes, it would be wise . . ." Alice glanced at him mockingly. "Is that all you can say? One would think you're a parrot. Now go on; we don't want to be late!"
"Bye now," Emily said, turning back to the mirror.
Alice scuttled off down the dark corridor, Frank following slowly behind. He was too tired to care. And really, he didn't want to see the duel. He knew Alice could beat Snape, doubtlessly she could, but still . . .
Being completely lost in his thoughts, Frank found himself colliding with somebody. He fell flat upon the hardwood floor, and a pile of books and the like fell on top of him.
Frank looked up to see Snape glaring contemptuously at him. "My books, please?" he growled.
Frank picked up one of the books. Dangerous Spells for the Insecure Wizard.
"That's interesting," Frank said, as he gathered the rest into his arms. He handed Snape the stack of books.
"Thank you," he hissed, turning on his heel and stomping off down the hall. Frank just sat there for a moment, and then brushed himself off and hurried toward his room. He did want to see Alice beat that unlikable Snape, after all.
"Maybe she just forgot," McGonagall muttered, knowing deep inside that that was certainly no possibility.
Snape was smirking in center of the crowd of teachers and seventh years. "So, our brave hero doesn't have a heart of iron after all, eh?"
Harry glared at him. "Just shut up. Really, I know that something must have happened. Alice never goes back on her word."
Frank and Emily nodded in agreement. Everyone, except Snape, seemed worried.
"No," Snape said in a cold, laughing manner. "I'm sure she just chickened out. She knew she couldn't beat me!"
It was dark outside, but everyone could see Snape's eyes glowing wickedly. Harry couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm going to look for her," he said in a disgusted voice, "for no one else seems to care."
"Wait—I'll come," McGonagall said.
"No, that's all right," Harry assured her, his voice softening somewhat. "I'll find her. Myself."
Harry walked off into the darkness. The trees of the Forbidden Forest loomed about him, and he could hear the ghastly howls and shrieks of terrifying, unidentified creatures. The ground was sodden (with rain? or blood?), which made walking harder than usual.
He looked all about him, but in the dense vegetation, it was hard to make out any shape. He began to call for her.
"Alice! Alice? Are you here?"
He got no reply other than chilling silence.
It began to sleet, and Harry found that it was far too cold for him to go much longer. But he had this feeling . . . something was terribly wrong. Alice was ill. Or had had one of her fits. Or maybe she had been hurt . . .
Harry was so lost in his worry that he forgot to watch where he was going and tripped over something lying in his path. He fell forward and landed on the object blocking his way. With his face buried in the snow, he couldn't look at the object, but it was soft. It was covered in fabric. Harry pushed himself onto his knees.
It was Alice.
"Goddamn," he muttered, slapping her face. She was as white as the thin, slushy snow that was falling all about them. Her purple eyes were frozen open with a look of horror in her eyes, and her thin hands were colder than ice.
"Just wake up," Harry said, rubbing her arms vigorously. "You are the most trouble of anyone I have ever met . . . so weak . . . so stubborn . . . so nerve-rackingly intelligent . . ." He punctuated each of his lamentations with a sharp slap to her face.
After her face had become red with Harry's hand hitting it repeatedly, she moaned slightly. The dark was gathering closely to them.
Harry ran over to a small puddle of cold water. Cupping his hands, he managed to scoop some of it and carry it over to Alice. He dribbled it over her face, and she moved her head away from it slightly.
Harry sat down beside her and placed his head on his knees. Neither of them talked for a moment.
After an uncomfortable pause, Alice raised her head and managed to clumsily turn herself to rest on her elbow. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. "I missed the duel, didn't I?" she asked in a hoarse voice.
"Yes," Harry said. He peered off into the darkness that engulfed them.
Upon hearing this reply, Alice seemed slightly comforted. "That's fine."
Harry lifted his head and gawked at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she coolly responded, "that I didn't want to have to hurt Snape. He stood absolutely no chance."
"But—but—you've been disgraced!"
"Not really. I had another fit. I couldn't help it." She was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Thank you for finding me."
His eyes locked with hers, but there was no feeling in her eyes. Just an overwhelming sadness. She often puzzled him in such a way.
She smiled ruefully. "I can't help my emotionless state, Harry. Please forgive me at times. It's just . . ." She looked as though she were at a loss for words. "It's just . . . my life is one long script that has already been written, and then rehearsed uncountable times in my head . . ." (Harry had an odd feeling that she knew the exact uncountable number), " . . . and nothing surprises me anymore. Except . . ." She looked reluctant to go any further.
Harry, trying to be of comfort, said, "I understand."
"No," Alice replied, with a sorrowful shake of her head, "you do not." She shifted her weight to her leg and tried to stand, but with a cry of pain she collapsed into the ever-growing drifts of snow about them.
"I can't move yet," she managed weakly, leaning against a tree.
"All right. I'll wait with you. No worries."
"They'll be looking for us soon."
"Let them look."
"Yes," Alice said in a sleepy voice, "let them." She closed her eyes, and Harry kept silent vigil as she dozed peacefully.
An hour later, they were found. But not by whom they had expected.