CenturionEon: Thanks for your theories. Lucky spot too!

RoyalDraken: Thanks for your review. Glad you're enjoying it. Hope this soothes your depression temporarily lol. Never fear I'll not abandon this story so you can count on that at least.

Flame Wolfe: Thank you! Much appreciated.

JeepJoop711: Thank you very much for such a high compliment. Glad to hear that Alexander fits into the universe. Can't wait to hear about your judgments.

Alexander's thoughts consumed him. Once he was stuck on an idea or situation, he obsessed over it constantly, replaying it over and over in his mind. It was part of his nature and often caused him to become quiet, with a tiny scrunch visible on his brow. Eliot thought it wasn't good to shut his thoughts and ideas up like that.

Alexander caught himself thinking about his upcoming Hogsmeade outing with Helen. He was distracted in his lessons, and Ron had to nudge him slightly when McGonagall was staring at him with an unimpressed, stern look. Alexander had felt embarrassed as Ron snickered quietly.

Right now, all he could focus on was Helen, especially when they shared secret smiles when passing each other in the corridors. His stomach whirled and he couldn't tell whether he was about to throw up or jump for joy. Physically, he probably didn't look any different, but Alexander was panicking on the inside.

Helen had said date, right? But had she meant date date or like friend date? Was there even a difference? Alexander's thoughts took a turn for the worse. He didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to act on dates. Wait. He gulped nervously. Did she expect him to kiss her? But what if he had this all terribly wrong and they were merely going out with friends? He'd never face it down.

Eliot had told him to be polite and respectful and always listen to girls when they're talking. Perhaps he should write to him for some needed advice. He could do with some right now.

At the other end of the corridor, Alexander spotted a lost and mystified Sullivan Fawley as he walked with another shorted-haired boy next to him.

Sullivan glanced up and turned relieved as his gaze landed on Alexander. It turned out that the two first-years had been lost while searching for the classroom with McGonagall. Alexander grimaced, knowing the Professor wouldn't be too happy. He pointed out the right direction and earned and toothy grin and smiling thanks from Sullivan. The other boy stood silently in awe of his friend. Alexander heard him whisper to Sullivan as they walked off.

"Woah, how come you never mentioned that you knew him before –" hissed the other boy, his voice trailing as they disappeared. Alexander didn't hear Sullivan's response.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Today was Alexander's first day for Ancient Ruins. He was curious about this subject and had briefly scanned the overview, eager to know more. The class was taught by Professor Bathsheba Babbling in classroom 6A. She had a soft face and kind eyes that sparkled when she talked about her knowledge; she did tend to ramble at times, but Alexander found her warmly pleasant.

The first lesson mostly introduced them to the subject and explained the importance of studying runic scriptures.

"For the next few weeks, you'll be translating some basic runes but only after you have come to grips with the different symbols and runes," said Professor Babbling with a smile. "It won't be easy but I'm sure with a little hard work, you'll all be able to breeze through."

Alexander listened with interest. He found it fascinating as it reminded him of learning a new language. He knew French, of course, and his private tutoring taught him some basics of Spanish and Italian from a young age.

Alexander stared around the class. Not a lot of third-year students took the course, which wasn't surprising. He recognised most of the Ravenclaw students – who took the majority – and Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff. They waved to Alexander cheerfully. Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin were tucked away in a corner.

It seemed he and Hermione were the only Gryffindors. Most of the others had taken Divination. Suddenly, a flash of bushy brown hair caught the corner of his eye. His head spun round in shock, blinking in confusion as Hermione occupied what was the empty seat a few moments ago. He knew a hundred per cent that she wasn't there before.

"What the –" he trailed off in an incredulous tone, wondering in anyone else saw that. They hadn't. Hermione hastily tucked away a glint of a shiny object under her collar, hiding it from Alexander's view. "How did you get here?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, unable to look at him as she took her supplies from her bag.

"Well, you weren't there before and now you are. I didn't even see you come in," frowned Alexander then scoffed. "And aren't you meant to be in Muggle Studies right now?"

"No, Alex, I was here the whole time." She still wouldn't look at him. Alexander's mouth parted in disbelief. He threw her an unimpressed look as she discreetly peeked up to look at him and swiftly glanced away.

"Are you actually serious?" he scowled. "I'm not Harry and Ron. Those two might take everything at face value but not me, okay? I know you better Hermione." He appraised her with a curious glance as she swallowed nervously. "You've figured out how to be in two places at once, haven't you? I'm right, isn't it?"

Hermione sharply inhaled and shrugged non-committedly. She hadn't turned the page in her textbook.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," he sighed, crossing his arms. "I just don't know how you're doing it, which is what I'm hoping you'll tell me." There was a look of conflict on Hermione's face as she bit her lip.

"Please, Alex, don't push me to tell you anymore," she pleaded. "I promised Professor McGonagall I wouldn't say anything about how I get to classes. She trusts me not to and I don't want to disappoint her. You understand, right? It's a matter of the Ministry and I could get into trouble, legal trouble."

Alexander stared at her. "Just tell me this: are you in any danger with it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I – no."

"Okay, then I won't push if you're not in any trouble." His tone became serious. "But if you are, promise me you'll tell me immediately."

Hermione blinked in surprise before nodding. "I promise."

"Good. . ."

Professor Babbling had set them to read through chapter one of their textbook. Mindless chatter and chuckles filled the classroom, drowning out Hermione and Alexander's voices and they spoke quietly. Hermione leaned closer to him, and Alexander smelt vanilla and her perfume overtake his senses. He blinked to focus on her words.

"Alex, I'm worried about Harry," she revealed worriedly. "I'm scared Black going to get to him and truly harm him. You saw how Hagrid reacted. What if he's right?"

"What about the millions of charms on Hogwarts? You said so yourself," Alexander pointed out as he scribbled on his parchment.

"Yeah, but still. . . Black escaped from Azkaban, and no one knows how. I mean we should be taking this seriously." She sighed frustratedly, a tiny furrow on her brow. "Will you say something, please?"

"Well, I think you're right to be worried," replied Alexander, placing his quill down to give her his full attention after hearing her concerned tone of voice. "This hasn't happened before with any other prisoner, but you're forgetting that Dumbledore is here. Nothing will happen to Harry."

"I hope so. Look, I didn't want to mention it in front of Harry. You know how he gets when we worry about him." Alexander snorted. He did know. Harry was the most stubborn person he ever knew.

"I know so. Black won't get to him. I won't let him." Alexander said so in a definite, no-room-for-doubt kind of voice.

Hermione swallowed nervously as she gazed at him. "How can you know for sure?" Something in her voice told him that she wanted to believe him.

Alexander glanced around the class, making sure no one was listening to their conversation, but he needn't have worried. Everyone was focused on their friends. Still, he leaned in and lowered his voice further.

"Look, do you swear not to tell anyone if I tell you something? Not even Harry and Ron. They can't know about it."

Hermione's eyes widened before she nodded, a keen, yet curious expression on her face. "I swear. You can trust me, Alex."

His heart thumped in anticipation and nervousness as he revealed what his grandfather had him doing. It was probably a bad idea, but it wasn't like he was telling a random stranger. It was Hermione, his best friend and confidant and he trusted her more than he could put into words. If anyone could understand him, it was her.

Hermione sat in silent shock; her mouth lay wide.

"Alex. . ." she breathed. "That's –" She could retort with anything.

"I know," he answered, glum. "I'm a bad friend and Harry will hate me when he finds out, right?"

"What, no!" frowned Hermione. "That's not what I was going to say. I think it's admirable and brave that you're willing to protect your friend. You're a good friend, Alexander."

Alex raised his head and smiled softly, a smile that reached his eyes and left his heart feeling lighter. It was like a weight had been lifted off him.

For the rest of the lesson, Hermione read her runes book with acute interest, already further ahead than everyone else in the room. Professor Babbling beamed at him, causing her to preen. Alexander would have done the same if his mind wasn't so occupied as before.

He glanced at Hermione with curiosity. Perhaps it can't hurt to ask. Hermione was a girl after all. She'd know more about it than him. Alexander licked his lips and hesitantly posed a question that had been nagging him.

"Hey, Hermione." She hummed, not lifting her head from her page. "Do girls expect flowers on a first date?" he asked slowly.

Hermione spun around so fast that her elbow knocked her ink across her parchment, leaving a tiny puddle in the middle. Alexander helped her clean it with a wave of his wand, feeling guilty for springing it out of nowhere. No wonder she was surprised.

"Why did you want to know that?" she asked. Alexander couldn't make out her facial expression.

He shrugged loosely. "Just wondering. You're a girl, so I thought to ask you."

Hermione's brown eyes narrowed, and Alexander fought the urge to squirm. "Well, some do," she replied after a while. "It's nice to make an effort. "Most people do grand romantic gestures. I've seen them in films and read about them so they're not too hard to master I suppose. But I wouldn't really know. I've never been on one." She shrugged with a thoughtful expression.

"Oh, okay, thanks." Alexander made a mental note. He was grateful that he had Hermione.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Potions class was a pain as usual but after Malfoy's injury, it seemed to become even more unbearable. Alexander had tried to ignore his whining, not caring a tad for his troubles, but it was hard when the ferret would glaze on the extra woe-begotten look.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm –"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

Alexander rolled his eyes for the hundredth time, and beside him, Blaise Zabini scoffed quietly in disbelief. They shared a look of mutual disdain for the ferret. As Alexander stirred his cauldron, a few feet away he noticed a tearful and frazzled Neville.

"Orange, Longbottom," drawled Snape, ladling some up his wrongly coloured potion and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Alexander saw Neville turn pink and his body trembling; a rush of indignation at Neville's expense ran through him as he glared at Snape. Everyone else in the room could sense the unfairness of Snape. Hermione spoke up, taking pity on Neville.

"Please, sir," began Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right –"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville.

Alexander didn't like how deflated she looked. He wouldn't let Snape humiliate her like that. "Didn't you hear her, Professor?" he spat, and Snape's cold eyes snapped towards him. "She wasn't showing off, she just wanted to help. How is Neville supposed to learn if you don't let him?"

Alexander heard the subtle sharp inhale of Blaise, who cringed at how quiet the room had become.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for questioning a Professor, Laurent, and for speaking out of turn," replied Snape, appraising him with a displeased look.

Alexander's mouth dropped. "What that's –" He was nudged warningly by Blaise, who kept his gaze focused on Snape.

"Speak one more time out of turn, Laurent, and it's a week's detention for you."

Alexander fell back into his chair with a frustrated huff. He gritted his teeth but kept silent, choosing to glare at the side of his cauldron. That wasn't the end of Snape's opportunity to humiliate Neville. At the end of the lesson, he summoned the class.

"Everyone gather 'round," called Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. Alexander bristled, irritation burning his skin. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

"Five points from Gryffindor," announced an annoyed Snape, which wiped the smile from Alexander's face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

"God, I wish I could give Snape a nasty curse!" fumed Alexander as he walked out of the stifling classroom. "Five points all because Hermione's a good person."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!" But Hermione didn't answer. They looked around. "Where is she?"

Alexander frowned. "Not sure. She was behind me a second ago."

"There she is," pointed Harry. Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched her bag, and the other seemed to be tucking the same shiny object he'd seen before down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron, staring.

"What?" replied Hermione, joining the space next to Alexander.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" repeated Hermione, appearing slightly bewildered. "Oh – I had to go back for something. Oh no –" A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Her face fell when she spotted it. Alexander pulled out his wand and cast reparo. "Oh, thank you for that, Alexander."

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concerned at how frazzled and out of control she seemed.

"Yes, not to worry," she forced a smile. "I'm perfectly okay."

Alexander didn't quite believe her but didn't say anything. "Let me carry your books," he offered instead.

Ron peered over Alexander's shoulder at the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today," he said. "It's only Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," answered Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving." She marched off toward the Great Hall, Alexander following as he snorted at the confused expression she left behind on Harry and Ron.

"You know they're starting to suspect something about you," he grinned at her, flinging Hermione's bag over his shoulder.

"Yes, but I'm not too worried. Those two will never figure out what exactly," shrugged Hermione breezily.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Alexander didn't know what to expect for this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts. Last year had been abysmal – he scowled at the thought of Lockhart – but anything was better than that.

Professor Lupin entered the classroom after they had all sat down and got their quills and parchments out. He smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. Alexander noticed that he was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train. He didn't know what to make of him.

"Good afternoon," greeted Lupin in a soft voice. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

Alexander shared a bewildered look with Harry and Ron but did as he was told. No books? What was all that about? He suddenly felt a bit wary as he remembered the incident with a bunch of troublesome Cornish pixies but hopefully, Lupin knew what he was doing.

"Right then," said Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, Alexander followed the class and Professor Lupin out of the classroom. They met Peeves, who was floating upside down in mid-air and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum. He broke out into a rude song. Alexander felt surprised to see Lupin still smiling; any other teacher would have become annoyed.

Lupin warned Peeves to remove the gum pleasantly as if he were having a conversation over tea. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely." He raised the wand, pointed it at Peeves and said, "Waddiwasi!"

Alexander watched with shocked awe as the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril, who then whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing. Alexander looked up at the Professor with new-found respect. It wasn't every day that you saw someone get the better of Peeves, apart from the Weasley twins, of course.

Lupin led them out of the staff room. He opened it and stood back. "Inside please," he instructed.

Alexander scowled as he noticed Snape sitting in a low armchair. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him.

At the doorway, he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. Alexander bit the inside of his cheek to keep a curse from erupting from his mouth. Snape always knew how to push everyone's buttons.

Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Lupin said it without a hint of mockery. A flash of satisfaction flickered through Alexander as he saw the greasy-haired Professor sneer in displease.

"Now, then," continued Professor Lupin after Snape had left, beckoning the class toward the end of the room.

There was nothing there but an old, worn-down wardrobe where the teachers kept spare robes. As Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. Alexander jumped, taking a step back as he eyed the wardrobe warily. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly. "There's a boggart in there."

A slow, twisting sense of dread settled in Alexander's stomach. He knew Lupin meant it to calm them, but it was doing the opposite for him. He had come across a boggart in a book he'd read once and felt like it was something to be concerned about.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," explained Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks – So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

Hermione raised her hand straight away. "It's a shapeshifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

Alexander gulped. Frighten him the most? That didn't sound very appealing. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be a theoretical lesson. He eyed the wardrobe, expecting the boggart to fly open from the locked doors and consume him.

He listened back in when Lupin's voice grew louder over the excited mutter.

"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires a force of mind. You see, the thing that finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please. Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" chimed Alexander, repeating the word under his breath.

"Good," smiled Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

Alexander watched, hardly blinking, as Neville approached, pale and frightened. He didn't envy his friend though a flash of curiosity flickered as he kept his eyes peeled. He frowned as Snape appeared from the two doors, hook-nosed and menacing with a nasty sneer on his face. Snape scaring Neville didn't surprise Alexander much, not with the terrible way Neville was treated. Snape marched forwards, eyes flashing at Neville as he reached inside his robes.

"R – r – riddikulus!" Neville squeaked, causing Alexander to breathe a sigh of relief as he was sure Neville was a goner a few seconds ago.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

A burst of laughter erupted from him as he threw his head back at the sight. This was classic! Snape in the most hideous clothes anyone could imagine. Everyone would be talking about this for days; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Alexander thought about what scared him as Lupin called each person from the class. When he was younger, he used to be afraid of the Grim Reaper after watching films with Eliot. He thought a mysterious man that could control death would lurk in the shadows and take him unawares like it'd taken his mother. He didn't sleep in the dark for a long time. But he was a child then. He wasn't afraid of a fictional being any longer.

A grimace overtook his face as he remembered thunderstorms. He hated the sound of them, the thunderous crashing, which made it seem like the clouds and the rain would press down on him and crush him. It was absurd he knew, but he couldn't help the jolt of fear in his heart when a thunderstorm happened.

When he was a young child, they'd been a huge one during a late evening. Alexander was in his bedroom, too afraid to fall asleep; Grandfather was at work and Eliot had been downstairs in the living room, a complete heavy sleeper. Alexander had trembled at the thought of moving and hid his head under the covers, hands pressed against his ears to block out the sounds.

Nobody had been there to comfort him or tell him it was nothing to fear. He'd been all alone and finally fell asleep from exhaustion. He's better at dealing with it now, of course, and usually distracted himself with a task, mostly playing his violin to block out the noise. Still, he remembered what it felt like to be helpless and alone and scared that night.

He pictured dark clouds gathering into a storm, which then changed into a puff of smoke. Satisfied, he moved closer and closer to the front of the queue. Now it was just Ron, and then it'd be him.

Ron leapt forward. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. Alexander shuddered, recalling the incident in the forest last year. He'd be happy to never see another spider again in his life. He didn't understand how Ron did it seeing how he was even more deathly afraid of the creatures than he and Harry were.

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished.

The body rolled over and landed beneath Alexander's feet. His heart leapt to his throat as he realised it was his turn. He raised his wand, cringing as he waited for the crash of thunder to sound and the clouds to appear. . .

But it never happened. Alexander stared, stunned into silence.

A brown-haired girl appeared in front of him, her expression sly and cheerful as she grinned around the classroom. This – this wasn't supposed to happen. Maybe the boggart was broken.

"Mum," he muttered under his breath, his hand dropping as his mind turned numbingly disoriented. Seems like he wasn't the only one as confused chattering swept the classroom. There was no way he feared his mother. To see his mother in photos is one but to have her in front of him, like she was breathing was another.

His mother's gaze settled on his and twisted, much to his shock. Her eyes glazed over with tears, falling like rain droplets down her cheeks. Alexander swallowed harshly and took a step forward, wanting to know what was wrong and if she was okay. He halted as she spoke. It was like only he could hear her with how soft and quiet her voice was.

"Oh, my boy," she sobbed, shaking her head like she was in deep sorrow. "My sweet, pathetic boy. Whatever have you become?"

Alexander flinched, her words being like piercing bullets. "I – I don't. . ." he murmured but fell silent as his mother continued.

"I'm sorry to say that I am glad that I died. So, I don't have to be around you anymore." She wiped her tears. "My dearest boy – a complete and utter disappointment, and not worthy of anyone's love least of all mine." She sighed sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry, Alexander. I just can't love you no matter how hard I try."

Alexander couldn't move, his feet frozen. Try as he might, he couldn't move his wand arm to cast the spell. His tongue was lodged to the roof of his mouth and a large lump filled the back of his throat. It was like his body had given up. In the distance, he could make out murmured whisperings, but they felt like they were coming out of a tube.

Suddenly, his mother shifted, and this time his grandfather stood in front of him. He appeared crueller and more arrogant than ever. Alexander glanced up in horror as his grandfather's eyes burned with malice.

"You are an utter burden, did you know that, Alexander?" asked his grandfather coldly, shaking his head in disgust. "My ultimate failure. My daughter – my treasure and the most important person in my life – dies and now I'm left with you." He scoffed loudly. "And what do I have to show for it? Absolutely nothing. Too bad you are and always will be a disappointment."

"Grandfather, please, I don't –" He tried hard to interrupt, his sight blurring slightly as the back of his eyes prickled.

His grandfather ignored him and went on like he hadn't heard him. "I should have told you this sooner, but I don't love you," he said bluntly. "Matter of fact, I very much despise you with every inch of my being. Let me tell you this: I long for the day when I don't have to deal with you anymore, boy. Hopefully it comes sooner."

"– ander? Alex? Alexander?"

A voice broke him out. Alexander glanced up at Lupin's worried yet bewildered expression. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown at him. Alexander peered up and glared at his grandfather's smirking expression.

"What?" shrugged his grandfather with an entitled air. "You know I'm right. People will always leave you in the end, no matter what. And who can blame them?"

Alexander gritted his teeth, anger rolling around in his stomach. He had enough. His face was hard as he cast. "Riddikulus."

Clothes fall onto the floor, and an empty suit is left on the ground. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Alexander tried his best to ignore the burning gazes that were being thrown at him and was left staring at Harry's worried expression.

"Are you okay?" whispered Harry. "I only heard some of it, not the whole thing. What was that?"

Alexander shrugged. He watched with a numbing feeling as Neville leapt forward to finish off the boggart.

"Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson," smiled Lupin. "Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me. . . to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Lupin's gaze settled on Alexander, but he barely gave Lupin a chance to call his name before he grabbed his bag and left the classroom, being the first one out. It was time for dinner, but Alexander felt like he didn't have much of an appetite.

Along the way, Nia and Helen brushed past him.

"Hey, Alex!" called Helen cheerfully, but Alexander couldn't mirror her expression.

"Not now, please," he mumbled, pushing past.

"What, Alex? Wait a moment, what's –"

"I said not now!" he snapped, raising his voice a tad.

Nia's mouth parted and Helen's eyes were wide, her eyebrows raised to her temple. Alexander took a final glance at them and left; his mind too distracted to dwell on it any longer. When he reached his dorm room, grateful that it lay empty, he removed his cloak. He shoved his head under the covers and let the darkness of sleep take over.

29th November 2022

So, something weird happened recently that I can't even make sense of myself. It's been driving me crazy, and I feel completely out of my zone. Perhaps I should explain the whole story.

It started in detention. Slughorn left Prince and me alone as usual, nothing out of the ordinary. Prince looked more sully than usual. I don't know why it felt worse to have him angry and silent than constantly annoying me with his comments.

And I'll probably deny this if anyone asks me, but I was a little worried because it looked like he was about to cry.

Being the good person that I am, I tried to find out what was bothering him, but the stupid git just glared at me. We said a few words to – I can't remember off the top of my head – but the next thing I knew, we were screaming at each other. My face was heated, and his expression burned, we were all up in each other's faces.

I managed to get the gist of the story though. It was something to do with his brother and parents. Sometimes, I see Prince staring at his brother with this kind of resentful, longing expression. I kind of feel sorry for him to be honest though I shouldn't.

Anyway, his brother had left their home apparently. The whole packed bags and everything. It seemed like an inevitable conclusion. Prince's brother and their parents had never got along. It meant that Prince was an only child now, seeing how his brother was now disowned and burned from the family tree.

Then, he was staring at me with hate-filled eyes and the next second my back was once again shoved against. I didn't have my wand with me at the time as we weren't allowed to use it in detention. I cursed my luck then and there. Prince might have been slim and didn't appear to be made of muscle, but he did have a strong grip, stronger than I expected.

I couldn't move. His face was close to mine, and I could feel his hot breath against my face. There was a hint of mint in there from the peppermint he had at dinner. Strangely, I couldn't breathe at that moment – all my senses were on high alert.

I told him that he was jealous and that he didn't want to admit it. It was common knowledge that everyone in the school preferred his brother, and he couldn't stand it. But I also knew that he missed his brother and didn't want to admit it.

Prince's eyes flared dangerously, and he shouted, which was shocking as he's normally so quiet when angry. I must have touched a nerve. I also must admit that slight fear sparked in my chest, but I quickly covered it up with a smirk. I was right.

But then. . . Then he did something that made me speechless, literally. He kissed me.

He might have done it to shut me up but still. . . I don't know how to feel about it. I feel dizzy even writing about it. The worse thing is that I liked it. For all his aggravating qualities, Prince kissed better than most of the people I've kissed. His breath was minty and his lips soft. I don't know why I can't stop thinking about it though.

I tried wiping my memory through Henry but even that didn't work. His tongue was slimy and his grabby hands under my shirt felt like an ice-cold shower, ruining my mood completely. I'm on edge and I don't know what to do.

Prince is truly despicable. So why couldn't I stop thinking about him then?

I'm back with another chapter. Hopefully, this doesn't disappoint. Thank you for waiting.