A/N: aka Alexandra Fortescue and the Surprising Start to Her Second Year

Chapter Nine

It Begins

The rest of the year practically flew by in Alex's eyes. Spending time with Cedric seemed to do the trick. Almost every day they met up in the Room of Requirement, which changed depending on what they craved. Sometimes it was Cedric's room, or hers; or their respective common rooms. Generally, though, it was a fantastical forest straight out of a fairy tale.

Alex smiled to herself as she recalled Cedric's reaction upon seeing the room for the first time. His jaw had literally dropped open as he gaped at the magical room. Alex actually had to push him in before anyone noticed, and it still took him a few moments to regain himself. Once he did, though, he began to put her words to the test, wishing for several different layouts and items as he watched the room cater to his desire.

Noticing her out-of-place grin, the customer she was serving quickly paid for his ice cream and bolted. That snapped Alex out of her reverie rather efficiently. She moved onto the next patron, scooper in hand.

It was summer, and while that meant fun in the sun for most children, it simply meant working in the parlour for Alex. She didn't mind, though; she only had to work every other day, she got paid for it, and it was an excellent place to people-watch and information-gathering. Spotting the familiar witch or wizard here or there was also a nice boost.

When she wasn't working, Alex made sure to see Harry. Like her, he was put to work during the break. The difference was that it was completely involuntary and utterly dreadful on his part. On more than one occasion did she catch him tending to the garden under the sweltering heat of the sun.

When the Dursleys struggled to scrounge up another menial chore for him to, they let Harry loose to do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't have anything to do with them in any way possible. Love, thy name was Dursley.

As much as Alex wanted to invite Harry into comforts of her home, she knew it would be a pain to hide anything remotely magical from him once again. On days when the heat was bearable, they played outside, wandering around the area, making up games as they went. When stepping outside for more than a few minutes resulted in fine sheens of sweat, though, they retreated to either the library or local shopping centre.

Man, she would give almost anything to visit him now. Unfortunately, it was August, when the heat seemed to intensify with a vengeance before summer could officially make way for autumn. At least working in the ice cream parlour ensured she would constantly be cool.

It was so peaceful. Alex wouldn't mind if time froze, leaving them all in the summer of '91 without having to worry about the horrors that would soon plague the near future. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way. She would know.

Time passed, and she was back at Platform 9¾ before she knew it. Since it was the first day of the year, both her parents had taken time off of work to see her off. Like last year, she waited as Dad ruffled her hair and Mum pat her cheek before boarding the train. She gave them one last smile and a "See you soon" as she trekked through the train in search of her favourite carriage.

Someone was already in it.

She stared blankly at the bespectacled boy in her seat.

Harry Potter mirrored her stunned expression. "Alex? What are you—? Are you—? No."

Alex snapped her gaping mouth shut with a click. "I didn't know you were a wizard," she finally managed to get out.

"So it's true," he said quietly. "You're magical as well."

"A witch, yeah. Small world, huh?"

Hurt shone through Harry's green eyes, visible even beneath his wonky glasses. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's a law," she said, lowering her eyes in shame. "We're not to reveal our magic to non-magical beings."

"Oh," he murmured. His downtrodden demeanour cleared for a moment. "Does that mean your family is the one who owns the ice cream parlour in Diagon Alley? I mean, I had a feeling, but…"

Alex nodded, smiling slightly. "Now you know why Dad is such a nutter about ice cream."

Harry laughed, and Alex knew things were all right again.

They talked for a while—well, it was mostly Harry who talked, while she listened—as the train took off with a small jolt. Harry recounted the snake incident at the zoo, the whole letter affair, meeting Hagrid and exploring Diagon Alley. Alex smiled the entire time he spoke; he seemed more alive in this moment than he had so far in the time she knew him. Well, she supposed it was natural. Harry Potter was returning to his world, after all.

"Hogwarts was the boarding school you spent all of last year in, wasn't in?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. When she nodded, he continued nervously, "How is it?"

Alex pursed her lips as she searched her mind for a fitting word. "Complicated," she decided.

Harry's face scrunched up into bemusement, but before he could seek an explanation, the door was sliding open.

An uncomfortable boy with ginger hair poked his head in. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing to the seat beside Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

When they shook their heads, the boy came in and sat down. He spared maybe a glance at Alex, but focused on Harry a little longer before gazing out the window. Despite his apparent disinterest, his body language practically screamed curiosity.

"Hi," she ventured, hating the awkward silence. "I'm Alexandra Fortescue."

"Fortescue as in Florean Fortescue?" the redhead asked, excited.

Alex huffed a laugh. "Yeah, daughter of the ice cream man. You are?"

"I'm—" Before he could answer, though, the compartment was opened yet again.

"Hey, Ron," called the Weasley twins.

Alex stiffened, but they hadn't seemed to notice her presence yet.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

One of the twins turned to her, and Alex could feel her heart pounding furiously in her chest. His eyes narrowed. "Hey, we know you! You're the Slytherin from the Owlery!"

"Slytherin?" spat Ron, his open face now twisting in disgust.

Her fists were clenched, and it was only when she looked down did she realise she was shaking. Alex was furious, but she was also hurt. The revelation was a bit confusing. She'd long grown used to the (sometimes rightful) discrimination against her House, but for some reason it was much worse when Ron – someone who hadn't even stepped foot into Hogwarts yet, someone so young and innocent – regarded her with unjustified disdain. He didn't even know her.

She tried her best not to look in Harry's direction. She didn't want to see what his reaction was.

Alex closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were cool and indifferent. "I'm a Slytherin, yes. What of it?"

Spluttering, Ron and his siblings gave her the usual run-down that seemed to define Slytherins as a whole: sly, evil, dark history, dark lords, etc.

Alex clutched Spitfire's carrier close to her chest. "Maybe they went mad from the hate they received."

One of the twins sneered. "Don't act like you lot don't give as good as you get."

"There was once a man who betrayed his best friends to the Dark Lord, you know. They died because of him. He was a Gryffindor."

Okay, so maybe letting slip something so integral wasn't a wise move. But no one said Alex was wise, especially not when she was being this emotional and irrational.

The boys recoiled, but Alex wasn't done. "And yeah, my House has a terrible history. But that doesn't mean you should judge people before getting to know them. I haven't done anything to anyone."

The other twin scoffed. "So you're saying the Hufflepuffs—the quietest House in Hogwarts—decided to attack you for no reason last year?"

Alex couldn't help but smile. "Pretty much."

Before the Weasleys could retaliate, Harry reminded them all he was still in the carriage. "I don't understand," he confessed. "I've known Alex for a year and she's been nothing but nice." Well, to him, anyway.

"Harry!" the twins cried simultaneously.

"A year?" asked Ron, eyes comically wide.

Harry nodded, his glasses slipping slightly at the motion. "We went to the same school."

"Don't be fooled," warned Ron. "I've heard tons of stories about Slytherins. They're the worst sort of people, always lying and sneaking around and stabbing people in the back."

Always lying. That sounded about right. After all, Alex's life was essentially a lie.

Whatever semblance of calm Alex managed to grab onto was long gone. Her eyes burned and her mind felt foggy, but one clear thought managed to pierce the torrent of emotions wrestling within her: she needed to leave. Now.

Without another word – not even to Harry, her first friend – Alex rushed out, leaving her luggage and only carrying Spitfire and his carrier with her. She pushed past the yelping twins, ignored Harry's call for her, and ran off to the nearest bathroom. She spent the rest of the trip there.

Harry stared, stunned, at the place where Alex had been sitting only moments. But she was driven away, looking more upset than he had ever seen her, because of the red-headed boys around him. He scowled.

"How could you say those things?" he demanded. "I don't care what these Slytherin people are supposed to be like, Alex is none of that."

The twins shared a look. Ron eyed him weirdly.

"Harry, right?" one of the twins asked. "We didn't introduce ourselves, did we? Fred and George Weasley. That's Ron, our brother," he continued, nodding in the direction of said boy.

Harry was thrown off, having expected a confrontation. He deflated somewhat. "Hi," he said uncertainly.

The other twin rubbed the back of his neck. "We might have gone a bit too far with her…" he admitted anxiously.

"Her name's Alex," he interjected.

"Right. Alex." George—or was it Fred?—shook himself slightly. "Anyway, we should get going. Lee's going to wonder what happened to us. Later."

"Bye," chorused Harry and Ron.

They were silent for a few seconds. Harry gazed out the window, though he noticed in the corner of his eye Ron working himself up to say something.

"Did you mean what you said?" he finally asked. "About her?"

Harry frowned. "Yes. She's my friend."

"But…you…" Ron ran his hands over his face in frustration, somehow missing the black smudge on his nose. "I don't get it. But I guess if you say she's alright… She wasn't anything like I expected her to be."

"Maybe you shouldn't believe rumours," he said a bit rudely. Harry himself had been the target of a fair share of rumours, instigated by both children and adults alike. All the things the Dursleys told people about him were rubbish, so it was most likely that the things people said about Alex and Slytherins were stupid too.

Ron flushed in shame, and whatever anger Harry had in regards to him mellowed out.

His opinion of Ron improved with time, as the two boys talked about all sorts of things. Ron seemed as interested in Harry as he was in him. He couldn't still believe it – him, Harry Potter, a wizard. And Alex was a witch. Sadness welled up within him at the thought, but he quickly brushed it away. She couldn't have told him. There was a law.

There were so many things Harry still didn't know about this whole new world. So he bombarded Ron with questions, and the other boy did the same.

Harry's train of thought was derailed when the boy with the round face he had seen on the platform popped in asking about a rat. A minute or so after he left, a bushy-haired girl strode in asking the same thing. She spoke a lot, and very quickly, and Harry's head was still reeling by the time she left.

"Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell," he grumbled, glaring at his very not-yellow rat. "George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What House are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Sly—"

Slytherin. There it was again. The one Voldemort was in. The one Alex was in. Harry's stomach churned, and he was certain it wasn't due to the sweets.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, trying to take their minds off Houses. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

To be honest, Alex wasn't too surprised to see Harry in Gryffindor. Some things never changed, she supposed.

She clapped dutifully each time someone was sorted, regardless of House. Still, she made sure her applause for the Slytherins was just a tad more enthusiastic, if only to keep the others from coming after her with torches and pitchforks.

What she would give to be eating in the kitchens instead. The only thing holding her back was the knowledge of the house elves slaving away more so than usual tonight. They tended to go all out on all special occasions—like Halloween and Christmas—but the Sorting feast was the most excitable. They wanted to impress the new students, especially the ones who knew barely anything about magic, or so Kippy said.

"Well, I heard from Father that—"

Then again, she thought as she stabbed into her potatoes, that didn't stop her from eating as fast as she could, if only to distance herself from the Malfoy scion and his condescending words. To make things worse, most of the first-years around him, as well a good chunk of the second-years, were listening avidly to every word.

It was safe to say Alex wasn't going to be in the Great Hall much this year.

Dessert had barely begun by the time Alex was well and done for the night. Despite her intense desire to leave, though, she didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. So she turned around and caught up with Duncan and Grant. While Duncan had stayed home during the break, Grant had gone to Hawaii, and was sporting a healthy tan as a result.

"You should have seen him right after he got back," said Duncan, grinning. "He was so dark he could have passed as my brother!"

Grant rolled his eyes, looking as if he heard that joke a million times already. Since it was Duncan, he probably had. Alex chuckled, feeling lighter than she had in hours.

Someone was staring at her. Keeping her smile in place, Alex flicked her eyes in the direction the stare was coming from. Her eyes met that of her favourite Hufflepuff, and her smile widened into a grin before she looked away.

In addition to exchanging letters, Cedric had visited the shop several times over the summer. Each time he used the coupons she had given him for Christmas. He lingered long after he had devoured his ice cream, chatting with her and killing time while his parents shopped and socialised.

She would see Cedric soon enough. Like last year, they agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement after lunch on Sundays. It was one of the quieter periods, when the corridor was relatively abandoned in favour of the fields, or the library, or the dorms.

A few people were finally leaving the tables. Sighing, Alex followed them a moment later, bidding Duncan and Grant goodbye as she rose.

As she headed to the dungeons, she kept a firm grip on her wand. It was best to be on guard all year this year. Lord Voldemort was in town, after all.

The next morning was full of stumbling first-years gazing hopelessly at the corridors. For the umpteenth time, Alex wondered why they didn't hand out maps on the first day. Merlin knew at least half of the year got lost for most of their first week.

The first bunch she ran into were those from her own House. Two boys were huddled together, and since neither of them were blonde or bull-like, that narrowed it down to Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

Her knowledge of them was obscure. Were they anti-Muggle and pro-Voldemort? Were they cruel bullies who lorded the power and status over everyone else? She didn't know, and at that moment she didn't care. Right now, they looked like nothing but a pair of apprehensive eleven-year-olds not wanting to be tardy to their first class of the year. She remembered the feeling all too well.

"What class do you have first?" she asked.

Blaise eyed her warily, so that left Theodore to answer: "Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall."

Alex nodded. "I know of a shortcut. Follow me if you want." She didn't ask them if they wanted to follow, because their pride would forbid them to, so she gave them no room to argue. Without another word, she turned and trekked the familiar path to the Transfiguration classroom. The soft footfalls behind her told her that the boys had used their heads and listened.

They reached the classroom before anyone had even entered the corridor. Alex nodded to the set of doors on her left. "This is it. I'm Alexandra Fortescue, by the way. If you need to find your way, let me know."

"Thank you," said Theodore, and Alex almost flinched in surprise. She rarely heard those words from her Housemates. "I'm Theodore Nott, and that's Blaise Zabini."

Alex found herself smiling. Theodore's politeness was refreshing. "It's not a problem. It takes a while to get used to navigating through the castle." She checked her watch, made an excuse about getting to class, and waved a goodbye to the boys before walking away.

Her excuse became more and more honest as she came across more and more lost students. She probably should have just ignored them and kept going, but it was better that she was late than them. They actually cared about school.

Instead of personally escorting each and every student, though, she grabbed a sticky note from her bag and wrote down directions. She wasn't sure about some rooms, though, so she gave some student general outlines of what they should encounter if they went the right way. Since that wasn't enough for the more nervous ones, she assured them that it was their first day, and no one would really fault them (besides Snape).

She was ten minutes late to class by the time she was done. Oh well. It was only Defence Against the Dark Arts with Quirrell.

The rest of the week followed mostly the same way. There were still a few lost students, bumbling around and dazed because of the moving staircases, deceitful Peeves, well-intentioned but incompetent portraits, as well as doors that weren't doors, but merely the walls playing a trick on them. Honestly, why that jinx was still in place…

The only ones who asked her anymore were the Slytherins, oddly enough. Then again, she supposed the Ravenclaw first-years had settled into their House nicely, and were relying on books and their Housemates to guide the way. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were also most likely more comfortable asking their older Housemates. It was either that or they had learned to stay from her, the evil snake that she was.

"Hey, Fortescue."

Alex looked away from the dim greenhouse to one of her Housemates. His name escaped her, since they had never spoken a single word to each other. She identified him by his long black hair, which grazed his shoulders, and his sharp-as-knives cheekbones.

"I hear you've been helping out the Slytherin firsties." He nodded in approval. "Good to see you have some House loyalty after all."

My life is complete. "How'd you hear?" she asked, keeping her voice polite but cool.

"My cousin Pansy was complaining about being the only one late to class on the first day. She interrogated a few of the others, who admitted they were directed by you."

Oh, so he was related to the snobby little girl from the pet store. "I see." Feeling a bit courageous, she continued: "You didn't advise her?"

He waved his hand dismissively as he rolled his eyes. "If she can't even ask for help, there's no point in handing it to her on a silver platter."

Smiling slightly, Alex nodded and wrapped up the conversation. Mostly because holding a civil conversation with someone from her House was both an anomaly and discomforting, but also because Professor Sprout had arrived.

The portly witch bustled in, appearing rather excited despite the fact that they were being taught how to handle mandrakes today. Second year Herbology was considerably more dangerous and difficult than first year, she knew, but she didn't realise they would dive right into it.

Grimacing, Alex tried to block out the chatter of the boys to her right. Professor Sprout was explaining the importance of Mandrakes, but also the dire threat they could pose. Fortunately, they were only working on baby Mandrakes as opposed to adults, so the chance of dropping dead was immensely lower.

"Everybody, put on your earmuffs! Quickly now!" Professor Sprout beamed at her students as they scrambled to shove the earmuffs on before she plucked the young Mandrake from its comfy pot.

Even with the earmuffs on, Alex could still hear the boys on her right snicker and groan about the lame gear. Alex supposed they hadn't been paying attention to the professor's lecture, because when she pulled up the shrieking plant, a few of them collapsed immediately.

Professor Sprout seemed to mutter, "Oh no," before hastily tucking the mandrake into a fresh pot of dirt. The class collectively breathed a sigh of relief as they removed their earmuffs. Wincing, Alex tugged on her left ear, which was still ringing.

Note to self, she thought grumpily, learn the silencing spell.

"Oh dear," sighed Professor Sprout, as she came to inspect the fallen boys. "They weren't listening when I was talking about the potency of the cries, were they?" She flicked her wand and muttered, "Rennervate" before scolding the now-conscious idiots. When that was done, she resumed the lesson, making the class suffer from multiple blood-curdling shrieks as the horrifyingly baby-like plants were uprooted and planted once more.

Then again, if she were a mandrake, she'd be screaming too. The plants were surprisingly sentient, which made the future butchering and stewing of them when they were ripe much worse.

Alex sighed. What a way to start the year.