The atmosphere at Hogwarts was dreary as Alex made her way toward the main hall after teaching her last class. For once she didn't have to shove her way through crowds of boisterous adolescents. The students had been subdued since rumors of Professor McGonagall's death had begun shortly after classes started for the day. The plan had been for Dumbledore to find McGonagall's body, but Poppy Pomfrey had gotten to her quarters first. The school nurse had been stunned by the death of her friend. So were Flitwick and Sprout, Alex thought, but at least they managed to teach their classes. Professor Trelawney had reportedly collapsed, having apparently seen McGonagall's untimely demise in one of her crystal balls the week before. And Hagrid just totally fell apart when he heard the news.
The decision had been made not to tell anyone that Minerva was really alive. Only those who'd been at Grimmauld Place to hear Snape's announcement knew the truth. They had to minimize the risk of word getting out that her death had been faked. Not only that, but Lucius Malfoy would undoubtedly attend the funeral. If anyone appeared too cheerful, it might arouse the Death Eater's suspicions. Not that that's going to be a problem, Alex thought. The ones who believe Minerva is dead are miserable with grief, and the ones who know better are miserable with guilt. She passed a group of Gryffindor girls crying and hugging one another for comfort. Poor kids. Wonder how Potter's holding up ?
Alex scanned the entrance hall, half hoping to see Severus Snape pacing and waiting for her. Her view of the doors was blocked for a moment by an official-looking team of aurors. Then she caught sight of a tall wizard. Oh, great Merlin's beard, no. Not him. To her dismay, Mad-Eye Moody was the one doing the pacing. Alex was tempted to turn around and flee. Not on your life, she thought resolutely. I'm not afraid of him.
"They're conducting a full investigation into McGonagall's death," Moody remarked by way of greeting. He watched with approval as another pair of aurors bustled by. "At least someone in the Ministry is showing good sense. Seventy is too young for a witch like McGonagall to buy it. She was in the prime of life." He took Alex's arm in a firm grip. "Snape says you have an appointment at St. Mungo's ? Let's get on with it."
Alex jerked her arm out of his grasp and strode out of the hall. To her disappointment, Moody kept pace with her easily across the muddy grounds. His wooden leg must have a charm on it. Argh. Just wait until I get within hexing distance of Severus. They made it to the hospital without incident. Moody insisted on checking the waiting room thoroughly before allowing her to take a seat. He sat across from her, tense and alert. Paranoid, Alex decided. To add to her bad mood, the receptionist informed them that Dr. Salubria was running late. Great. Just great. Alex picked up an outdated copy of Witch Weekly and flipped it open. She stared blindly at a random page, trying to ignore Moody's beady eye fixed on her.
His electric-blue magical eye rolled around the room suspiciously, then focused on the magazine in her hands. "Lip Potion on the Collar of his Robes and Nine Other Clues That Your Wizard May be Cheating on You," he read through the cover. "Don't trust Snape, eh ? Smart girl."
Alex tossed the magazine aside, biting back an angry retort. No. He's not worth it. I won't let this asshole get a rise out of me. She was relieved when Dr. Salubria finally called her into his office.
"Terrible thing, Minerva McGonagall dying so suddenly," the Healer remarked sympathetically. "How are you holding up ?"
"I'm fine," Alex answered truthfully. They made small talk for a few minutes. "Doc, I think it's time to switch back to Muggle medication. The Felicitas potion just isn't doing the trick anymore," Alex finally told him.
"Are you sure this isn't because of Professor McGonagall's death ? Grief is a normal response."
"No, that's not it," she explained. "I've been feeling down for a while. Irritable, anxious...
"It's time for you to go back on Prozac," Salubria concurred. "I'll have to get the prescription filled at a Muggle pharmacy. I'll send the medicine out to Hogwarts as soon as possible."
"Thanks, Doc."
"Now remember, no alcohol with this medication, young lady." He bid her goodbye with a twinkle in his eye.
"Back to Hogwarts ?" Mad-Eye Moody inquired, rising to his mismatched feet.
"I'd like to stop in Diagon Alley for just a few minutes," Alex answered, managing to keep her voice polite. "That is, if you don't mind."
Moody shrugged. "Let's go." They apparated to Diagon Alley, where Alex stopped at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary Shop. Mad-Eye followed on her heels like a guard dog, peering into the bulk potion ingredients bins suspiciously and wrinkling his nose at the foul smell that permeated the building. Shopping completed, they returned to the gates of Hogwarts. Moody refused to leave Alex there, opting instead to trail her up the lawns and watch until she was safely inside the castle.
"Thanks," Alex said curtly. Moody turned away with a grunt. She shrugged and closed the door.
-----
Inside, the hushed murmur of conversation drifted out from the great hall; dinner wasn't quite over yet. Not feeling any desire for either food or company, Alex headed for the dungeons, intent on putting her purchases to use. The idea for a potion had come to her when Dr. Salubria had warned her not to mix alcohol with her medications. Poor Hagrid. He's taking McGonagall's death really hard, Alex thought, motivated by a mixture of sympathy for her friend and the desire to experiment. The guy's a heavy drinker to begin with. What the heck, if anyone could use a hangover remedy, it's Hagrid.
She selected a book of standard remedies, flipping through it until she found a hangover cure she was familiar with. Summoning parchment and a quill, Alex frowned in concentration as she altered the recipe, nearly tripling some of the ingredients, taking into account Hagrid's unique half-giant physiognomy. Using a mixture of mathematics and intuition, she was finally satisfied that her modifications would work. The witch took up a mortar and pestle and began to grind dried kudzu leaves into a fine powder, settling into the calming, familiar routine of potions work.
Dinner ended and Severus Snape returned to the dungeon. Alerted by the brightly lit torches, he drew his wand and entered the laboratory silently. When he saw Alex, he relaxed and lounged against the door frame, watching as she deftly chopped pegasusradish and added it to the simmering brew. Midway through stirring lemon juice into the cauldron, she glanced up and saw him. "What are you doing here ?" she asked with a touch of belligerence.
"I live here," Severus pointed out. Then he shrugged. "I like watching you work."
Alex hesitated. "Severus, I -"
"I only said I enjoyed watching you," he sneered, brushing past her to the storage closet. "I have no desire to listen to your moralizing."
Alex fought off the urge to go after him, to escalate from insults to throwing hexes. She took a deep breath, then let it out in a snarl of frustration. Ungh. I'm better off without him. She turned her attention to bottling the potion and cleaning up the workspace, performing each chore mechanically as she ran over a list of Snape's faults in her mind. He's hopeless. The man is incurably twisted. Hell, he basically told me straight out that I can't trust him. Alex gathered up the finished potions and left the lab. Her reluctance to climb the stairs had nothing to do with acrophobia, she realized. I'm better off, she reminded herself, so why the hell is it that all I want to do right now is run back to him ? Resolutely, she turned her back on the dungeon and headed for her apartment. I hope Dr. Salubria sends the Prozac over tomorrow. Because obviously, I need it bad.
-----
The funeral was held Sunday afternoon at St. Dymphna's, a little church in McGonagall's home village of Peatreek in Berwikshire. Wizarding folk from all over Britain had come to pay their last respects. A special train from Hogwarts had brought many of the staff and students. Albus Dumbledore had assigned members of the Order of the Phoenix to help out with logistics, so Alex found herself manning the apparition point set up in a field near the church. Witches and wizards appeared in the field with loud pops, then made their way down the country lane and into the churchyard in somber groups of two or three. Lucius Malfoy arrived in this fashion, as did Remus Lupin. At a quarter til two, Alex started down the lane herself. Lupin was sitting on the stone wall bordering the field. He stepped out and kept pace with her.
"How have you been, Alex ?"
She shrugged. "All right. Yourself ?"
"Fine," Remus replied shortly. He lowered his voice. "Has Severus said anything to you about the last meeting ?"
"What do you mean ? He told everyone what went on."
"I don't think so. I saw the look on his face when he realized that you hadn't had the chance to see the meeting. He was holding something back. I was hoping he'd tell you what really happened."
Alex felt her heartbeat speed up. Rat spleen, daisy roots, shrivelfig, dash of leech.. she recited the list of ingredients to calm herself. "You-Know-Who wanted to punish Dolohov for his recruit's failure." She managed to keep her voice bland. "Some of the Death Eaters got carried away. Severus tells me that's not uncommon."
"And that's all there was to it ?" Remus had stopped, blocking her path.
Alex met his eyes without blinking. She shrugged. "That's all there was to it. Come on. We don't want to be late for the funeral."
People were still crowding into St. Dymphna's. Alex slipped away from Remus as they joined the mourners and found herself standing next to Hagrid in the back of the church. The big gamekeeper blew his nose loudly into a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. He was simply too huge to fit into a pew. Alex patted his hand sympathetically, watching the ceremony begin with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. I dont belong here. It's not like I have a clue what's going on. Alex grimaced. Dark wizards don't rank religious education as a high priority for their children. She had been surprised to find that Minerva McGonagall's memorial would be taking place at a church. It makes an odd kind of sense, though, she realized, listening to the stately Elizabethan phrases of the funeral service. Minerva would have approved of this. Alex shook her head, impatient with herself. Sheesh, she did approve of this, just a week ago. Stop thinking about her as though she's really dead.
At the conclusion, eight pallbearers bore the coffin down the aisle. They were all Hogwarts students, chosen by lot from among the Gryffindor prefects and members of McGonagall's beloved house quidditch team. Pale-faced and stoic, the teenagers levitated the heavy casket draped with crimson and gold. Alex closed her eyes involuntarily. Dear gods, those poor kids. They're too young to have to deal with this. The congregation of witches and wizards filed solemnly out of the church, following the pallbearers to McGonagall's final resting place.
The American was startled by a hand on her shoulder. It was Lucius Malfoy, his pale eyes watching her intently as she turned to face him. The last of the mourners were crossing the threshold, just a few feet away. She and Malfoy were alone in the church. "I'd like a word with you, Miss Rose," he murmured.