Note- This has been corrected for the sole reason that I needed to add a paragraph of foreshadowing, just so the ending will make sense. Rewrites will come later.

Le Garçon Qui Vivants Pas Plus

Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, my curiosity exceeded me. There were just so many questions unanswered after my visit that I were dying to know. Papa always had said that I had the spirit and ambition to be a journalist- I wouldn't leave things alone.

Coping with my newfound fame proved to be a chore, of course. I didn't want all of the celebrity that came with being a journalist. I would have just been happier to live as a hermit in the mountains with a typewriter and a great deal of imagination.

Stories were being shoved in my face, stuck on my car, everyone wanted in to the business. It was very hard to show my face in public for about 2 months.

And, of course, the death eaters. Voldemort's regime. I had heard them being compared to some American group called the KKK, but still, never had I seen worse discrimination toward myself. I had no idea that anyone who associated with Draco Malfoy would face the penalty of death. Or worse- public humiliation.

I had enough money and fame to set me off for the rest of my life. I just needed one thing-

To find the answer.

---

Walking very slowly, I entered the large garden area of the Potter Mansion, gasping at the sight of the huge manor in front of me. Mr. Potter obviously felt the need to flaunt his incredible wealth.

And it really was an incredible wealth, since the manor was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen. Roses, carnations, tulips. But the most remarkable of them all were the pure white lilies. They almost enveloped a partially ivy-covered statue of some sort of angel with its arms outstretched. I hadn't seen many of these kind of statues- they were said to keep precedence at mausoleums in the southern portion of the United States. Since many of those muggles followed some kind of religion called something like "Christianity".

The statue was a pale marble with its eyes closed and long, flowing romantic hair. It was frozen in a position of despair, like it was missing something rather important. I shrugged the image out of my mind and walked up to the front of the house, pressing the doorbell cautiously when I arrived at the vast doorstep.

"BONG"

The doorbell resonated throughout the property; I could tell even from where I was standing on the doorstep. I heard a loud, barking dog, and then the door creaked open.

I found myself staring at one of the most dashing men I had ever seen. His famous tousled hair was hanging over his eyes, and he was grinning like a maniac.

He saw me and stopped grinning.

"Ah, Miss Alice Everett I presume?"

I slowly nodded, wary of my surroundings. Father had always been told to observe the atmosphere before making a move. Looking to his face, I noted that the usually cheerful face in portraits was fixed in a scowl.

Harry Potter was obviously not very happy to see me.

"Yes, I'm here to interview your wife, Virginia. Is she home?"

He folded his arms across his chest.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you, and I don't want you running one of your exposes on Virginia."

Right on cue, a voice from upstairs rang through the downstairs hallway.

"Harry, who is it?"

"It's the mailman, Virginia. Don't come downstairs!" His eyes narrowed as he yelled up the grand wooden staircase.

I just kept staring at my feet, obviously ashamed. Ashamed because I was intruding on something that wasn't supposed to be interrupted. It was expected that I would receive this kind of reception, I shouldn't have expected any less-

My running thoughts halted as I saw Virginia Potter standing at the top of the staircase. Her famous red hair draped down her back and tapered at her waist in large curls. She was wearing a simple green tea-dress, which emphasized her full figure. It was easy to see why anyone would adore her, with her doe-like face and girlish features.

"That doesn't look like a mailman." She had such a plaintive look on her face. I sighed, she was completely oblivious.

"I'm Alice Everett from the Daily Prophet." Her ears perked up. "Mind if I talk to your for a second?"

"Yes, of course. Is this for another story?"

Ah, that was their reservation. Or, at least, what his was.

"Anything you say to me won't be used in another story. I'm just curious about what's new since our school days at Hogwarts. Remember? You used to tutor me in Herbology, I was in 5th year and you were in 7th."

Her ears perked up, and I knew that meant recognition. It wasn't just another lie; I had been tutored by her, 4 years ago. I didn't think she'd recognize me, but I knew she'd recognize my name. Alice Everett.

A mudblood. Father told me to always be ashamed of the fact that I was a mudblood, himself being the only person in Hogwarts history to bribe the sorting hat for their child. I remember my first day at Hogwarts in Slytherin house; people stared at me as if I was a form of vermin. I had virtually no friends, basically attributing to the fact that I was a mudblood. That dirty, dirty word. But instead of despising purebloods, I admired them and their cruel behavior.

"Oh, ALICE darling! How wonderful for you to come and visit! Please, step inside and we can chat upstairs." She smiled a glowing grin.

"Dear, I don't think that's the best idea-"

"Harry, shut up. I'm practically dying from lack of social interaction." She flashed a pair of large-doe eyes. Mr. Potter sighed, and I knew that Virginia had won the battle. At least- for now.

"Let's just go upstairs-" she grabbed my hand and literally flew upstairs, running through corridors and past sun-rooms and windows and… I became rather dizzy after about 15 seconds.

Finally, we stopped in front of a large, ominous looking door.

"Vous savoir."

The door slowly creaked open, and I could see the makings of a room that looked like a study.

"Sit, please."

The door flew shut, and 5 bolts fastened themselves into place.

She nodded, "I apologize for my husband. This is my secret room, perfectly concealed and the only safe place in the house. Soundproofed, many locks. Advanced alohamora can't even get in here."

I was a tad confused. "It's a very simple password."

"Harry refuses to learn French," she grinned. "Besides, it's only keyed to my voice."

I smiled slightly. It seemed typical of the great Harry Potter to be so stubborn.

"So, what was your question?" The doe-like features of her face had suddenly disappeared and she looked like she always used to at school. Smart, witty, cheerful. Instead of a caged dove, she embodied more of an energetic sparrow.

"As you know, I went to visit Draco at the Esprit Torture de Dieu," she nodded and I continued, "and I was wondering whether you wanted me to be a go-between for the two of you. I figured that it must be rather risky for you trying to sneak out and see each other, and I feel that something links me to Draco in history. I remembered that you were a rather good researcher. Care to look up some things in exchange for this small favor?"

She sat very still for a second, then her cheeks regained color.

"Yes, of course. I assume that you found out about my private library?"

The world famous Potter library. Only belonging to Virginia, of course. Harry hated to read, being more of an extrovert. He wore his feelings on his sleeve. I despised him.

I smiled sheepishly, was I THAT transparent? "Kind of… yes… well…"

"It's quite alright. No one uses it except for me. I'll look up some things for you in exchange for you taking some things such as letters to Draco," she bit her lip, I could tell she was nervous.

I grasped her hands in mine. "Everything's going to work out. Don't worry."

She fell into my arms as tears flowed from her starry eyes.

The poor woman.

---

"Pity, she looks just like her mother."

"Yes master, a shame we'll have to kill her."

A man sat in front of a fire, his hand absentmindedly grasping the hand of his cane. Elegant and poised, he brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

"Her stupid father and mother, merlin. We'll have her yet, Pettigrew."

"Of course, master."

---

I sat up immediately.

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Next Time: Family history, let's go visit the psycho boy, and unnecessary flashbacks!

… please don't throw pieces of fruit at me for not updating. I've had severe writer's drought!

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