A/N: Part one of a two-chapter update!
Chapter Thirty-Five
Preparations
The mockery she received afterwards was agonizing. She bore Jacob's and Zubair's teasing comments with a chagrined smile, but Bhagat was infuriatingly snide with his barbed words and deliberate looks of disgust. Worse still were the snickers that followed her as she made her way to the Great Hall for lunch. Alex flipped the bird at the more obnoxious students and was rewarded with several looks of indignation.
To top it all off, Agatha could not stop trying to kiss up to her as recompense for the humiliation she suffered at her hand. The blonde cringed each time they overheard a whispered comment about the incident and appeared incongruously uncomfortable as they settled down for lunch.
"Relax, Agatha," Katherine told her as she reached for a sandwich. "Alexandra is a big girl; she'll survive."
"Thanks," said Alex with a roll of her eyes. Katherine's blasé attitude was soothing in a way Agatha's anxiousness could never be, at least. She began to pile her plate with some chips.
Agatha's watery eyes darted from Alex to her food. "Will you be okay to eat?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and pity.
"Oh my god, yes," snapped Alex, her eyes heating up as she lost her temper. "My stomach is utterly, completely empty, thanks to you, so could you please just let me eat in peace?"
Okay, so maybe she had gone overboard. The awkward silence that befell them only served to emphasise Alex's huge impasse.
All her anger had fled her system. Feeling drained, Alex murmured a curt, "Sorry" before fleeing to the next table over.
Grant let out a low whistle as she climbed into the seat across from him. "Who knew the Hogwarts champion had such a hot temper?" he drawled.
Not in the mood to engage in another fight, Alex played the fool and asked, "I am hot, thanks."
"No, that's n—"
"You okay, Alex?" asked Duncan, his brow furrowed.
She heaved a sigh. "Not really," she admitted, stuffing her face with a fistful of chips. "It's been a long day."
"It's noon," Grant reminded her.
"A long week."
"Now that I can agree with."
Alex offered him a small smirk. It seemed Grant was doing well, his disposition notably warmer compared to last year. Making things official with Duncan seemed to be having a positive effect on him.
Feeling a bit better, Alex sat up slightly. "How was your summer?"
"Great," said Grant in that usual wry tone of his. It always made it difficult to decipher whether he was being genuine or not. "I got kicked out of my house and disowned by my family, so that's wonderful."
Alex stared at him.
Duncan patted his hand sympathetically. "They'll come around. And even if they don't, your aunts are much cooler anyhow."
The cogs in Alex's head were still churning away. "Why… What…?"
Grant rolled his eyes at her poor attempts at conversation. "My dad is super religious, and while he could tolerate the whole magic thing, being gay was the straw that broke the camel's back."
"Oh." How did you even reply to that? 'That sucks'? 'Let's kill him'? "Does that have anything to do with what happened last year?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
"Is that all you know how to say?" It was probably meant to come off as a joke, but there was definitely more than a hint of frustration underlying Grant's words.
Alex thought fast. "If a gay uncle is called a guncle, would a lesbian aunt be called a launt?"
Fast? Yeah. Smart? Not so much.
Grant shot a flat look at his boyfriend. "I blame you for this."
Duncan pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm so proud of you," he claimed. "Share your puns with the world, my child.
"I'm older than you by three months," replied Alex, frowning.
"What's your point?"
Whatever reply her brain was going conjure was lost thanks to the chiming of the school bell. "Transfiguration, right?" she asked, scarfing down the last of her fries.
Grant nodded. "Your fave subject."
Ugh. "Not funny," she muttered, recalling her dismal results from last year. "Thank Merlin we can drop some subjects next year."
"Right?" chirped Duncan as they headed to class. "Can't wait to ditch Potions. Snape seriously gives me the creeps." He hastily if belatedly surveyed the area for any overgrown bats.
Alex nodded in quiet agreement. While Potions was a supremely important subject to learn, the professor in charge of their curriculum was an overgrown bully who spent more time scaring his students than teaching them. Sometimes Alex indulged in daydreams where Hogwarts was filled with compassionate, competent pedagogues rather than ragtag team of misfits thrust in their way.
"I've always wanted to call him Mister Snape," admitted Grant as they turned a corner. "He doesn't have a doctorate—no one here does—so 'professor' is unbefitting."
"If you say that to his face, you'll personally become my hero for life," Alex said earnestly.
"I'll consider it."
"Oh dear," murmured Duncan as they walked past a giggling gaggle of second-year Slytherins. They were all sporting the same brightly coloured badge that was recognisable even from where they were situated. "Oh my."
"You didn't make those, right?" asked Grant, eyebrow arched.
"Please," she muttered, cringing at the sight of her Housemates. "I'm not nearly as talented." Ew. The indirect compliment left a bad taste in her mouth, even if Draco wasn't around to hear it.
Alex hadn't seen too many badges, which was a relief. It seemed as though it was only popular with those in Harry's year and below, particularly the prattish ones like Draco and co. The comfort she gained from that knowledge abruptly curled up and died when she walked into class and saw the badges pinned to her Housemates's robes.
"Oh my god," she muttered, striding over to Zubair and Jacob. "What the hell are you guys wearing?"
"Badges of support," Jacob replied with a serious nod. "You're welcome."
"I… Thanks," murmured Alex. She watched as the text on his badge changed to scream POTTER STINKS. Harry smelt pretty good, actually. "Don't you think it's a little embarrassing?"
"Not at all," Jacob said calmly. "It makes sense that we're wearing them — we like you, not Potter."
Zubair leaned forward in his seat to see her better. "Emphasis on the not Potter," he added with a toothy grin.
Oddly, Alex felt flattered by their support. Convoluted though it may be, they actually were being supportive of her. Sort of? She wasn't really sure of these two; their motives weren't as clear-cut as Katherine's and Agatha's.
Alex returned to Duncan's and Grant's sides when Professor McGonagall appeared. Throughout the lesson, whenever her eyes landed on Zubair and Jacob—particularly their accessories—she would grimace. She would then direct a disapproving glance at Alex, who pouted each time. It wasn't like she had a hand in producing those things.
After Transfiguration was Magical Creatures. According to Hagrid's lesson plans (which Hermione scoured through at least a fortnight in advance) they were to focus on hinkypunks and firedrakes, fire-based magical creatures which had a tendency to harass people. While Hagrid taught them the theoretical aspects, Moody would then instruct them on how to ward them off. Mad though he may be, one couldn't deny that Moody was a practical, hands-on professor.
But when they gathered near Hagrid's hut, there was no sign of any of the aforementioned beasts. There was, however, a giant bonfire roaring in the middle of the clearing. Alex's classmates were peering into it expectantly and somewhat apprehensively.
"Think the firedrake is in there?" murmured Zubair.
"Bet you five sickles it isn't," replied Jacob.
"What do you think, Fortescue?"
Alex stared long and hard at the fire as she searched for a magical presence within the red flames. It had been a while since she had done this, especially with her eyes wide open instead of shut tight to keep out any distractions, but she managed to block out the magical monolith that was the castle and ignore the signatures of her classmates surrounding the atypically bright flames. What she couldn't tell was whether there was an additional magical presence within the fire or if it was the fire itself that was tipping off her radar.
So she shrugged and said, "Firedrakes are aggressive; if there was one in there, it would've given us plenty warning by now."
Hagrid chose that moment to stomp down the haphazard steps leading up to the castle. He was decked out in his usual furs and leathers as well as an additional rubbery apron and some gloves. Somehow, the getup rang a bell in Alex's mind.
"Good afternoon, class," he greeted them cheerily. "Bet yeh've been wonderin' what's in the fire."
"A firedrake?" Zubair guessed with notable excitement.
Hagrid chuckled. "No, but good try."
He deflated visibly and began rummaging through his robes for Jacob's payout.
"An ashwinder?" called a Gryffindor from Alex's right.
Smiling, Hagrid shook his head. "I'll give yeh all a clue: it feeds off fire, an' can only survive outside one fer six hours."
Several hands drifted upwards. It was Katherine who answered, "A salamander." A mix of awe and wariness coloured her voice as she peered at the flickering flames with renewed interest.
"Correct," declared Hagrid with a grin. "Three points ter Slytherin."
"How long have you had this one, then, professor?" asked Jamie Khairo, a Gryffindor.
"Since last night," he answered, beaming with pride. "My dog Fang started barkin' up a storm not long after I started a fire for my tea. When I knelt down ter check wha' all the fuss was abou', I almos' fell down in surprise!"
"It didn't attack you?" asked Alex, concerned. She glanced at his cabin, which appeared to be intact.
Khairo scoffed. "Fire-dwelling salamanders aren't aggressive unless you're dumb enough to try to snatch them out of their fire. It was in the textbook, Fortescue – do keep up."
Alex stared speechlessly at the hostile Gryffindor as their classmates snickered none-too-quietly. What the hell was her problem?
Although Alex hadn't uttered a word, her thoughts must've been broadcasted on her face, because Khairo shrugged and said, "Hey, I just think the person representing our school ought to know better. Right, champion?"
Was that a touch of jealousy she saw in Khairo's green eyes? Amused, Alex said, "Just because the goblet deemed you unworthy is no excuse for you to lash out at me. Then again," she added, smirk growing, "I'd be a bitter hag too if I were you."
Khairo blushed heavily. "I've no reason to be bitter, seeing how I didn't even enter the glorified death tournament," she snapped.
"Why? Did you already know you wouldn't be picked anyway?"
Katherine brought a hand to her mouth to cover her wide grin while Zubair pretended to have the shivers.
"Brr," concurred Jacob, his tone wry.
"Now, now," Hagrid interjected hastily. Like a proper professor, he was attempting to diffuse the situation before Khairo could explode with rage – which looked to be soon, judging by the fierce scowl twisting her face. "Yeh both need ter settle before I start deductin' points."
Per his instructions, Alex turned away from Khairo, her expression becoming a blank slate as she returned her attention to Hagrid.
God, she was exhausted. Alex wasn't unused to butting heads with others, but never before had she been on the receiving end of such naked disdain from someone with whom she otherwise had no issues with. It didn't help that Khairo was so cavalier about the (very likely) prospect of Alex's death in the upcoming tournament. Honestly, her words had left Alex quite shaken, even if she appeared impassive outwardly.
Fortunately, Hagrid didn't leave much time for chatter after that. He encouraged them to move closer to the fire as he provided detailed information about fire-dwelling salamanders that they struggled to copy down onto some parchment while standing. Once the note-taking was done, they were corralled into a single-file line where they would take turns grabbing a stick of firewood from the pile Hagrid had amassed and feed it into the fire to lower the salamander's guard in the hopes that it would pop its head out and say hello.
The Gryffindors—in their eagerness—basically ran to line up while the pretentious Slytherins opted to maintain their air of superiority by ambling towards the queue. Distracted by her thoughts, Alex was the last to line up.
Glorified death tournament. Despite herself, Khairo's words had gotten to her. Alex knew, theoretically, that the tournament was dangerous, and that people had died before. But now that she was actually competing, she was beginning to realise how serious things were going to get. Still…better her than any of her peers.
Feeling somewhat calmer, Alex grabbed a thick branch from the dwindling supply of firewood and held one end to the fire. There was a tug on the other end of the branch as a pair of bright, yellow eyes shone through the flickering flames. Lips pursed, Alex slowly and steadily withdrew the stick, hoping to drag out the salamander with it.
"Look 'ere, ev'ryone," Hagrid said in what passed as an indoor voice for him but outdoor volume for others. "Alex has got the salamander's attention."
She and her classmates waited with bated breath as the salamander hesitantly emerged from its safe, fiery haven. The stick grew warmer and warmer in Alex's hand; she held it for as long as possible until the heat grew unbearable. Hissing, she let it go a second before it was consumed in flames.
Alex hastily stepped away from the cautious creature while Hagrid took her place, a handful of peppercorns held out in front of him. As noted before during his lecture, fire-dwelling salamanders loved pepper – when fed an appropriate amount, they felt safer spending time outside their fire.
Now no longer under danger of receiving third degree burns, Alex took the time to really get a good look at the salamander. It seemed like it had been born from magma rather than fire, with its dark red scales bisected by golden streaks of lava-like blood. Out of all the magical creatures Alex had the fortune of seeing in real life, the salamander took the cake; it was simply fascinating.
They spent the rest of the lesson feeding the salamander some pepper, courtesy of Hagrid. Most of Alex's classmates simply tossed a handful close to the salamander, wary of being burnt by its hot skin despite assurances that the salamander would only actively burn if it so chose. Not many people had much faith in the shy little bugger, though, even with the fire-proof gloves and apron Hagrid offered them.
Alex remained with Hagrid even after the bell chimed. Classes were done for the day, and most people were eager to sit back and relax – or study, in a lot of the seventh-years' cases.
"Yer sure yer wanna stay behind?" Hagrid asked her as he cuddled the content salamander. It was surprisingly docile now that it was well-fed. Maybe it even saw Hagrid as its parent, since he was the first face it would've seen after it emerged from his fireplace.
"I've nothing better to do," Alex replied, watching as the end of Hagrid's beard began to smoulder the closer he brought the salamander to his face.
"Go on," he said encouragingly, "yeh can pet 'im."
Tentatively Alex reached a gloved hand and touched the top of its sizzling head. The salamander barely reacted.
"What will you call him?" she asked, eyes glued to the fire creature.
Hagrid hummed. "Sammy?"
"You should call him Alex."
He guffawed. "That would get a tad confusin'." His smile dimmed as he glanced at her with concern. "How are yeh and Harry holdin' up, eh?"
"Well," said Alex, dragging the word out, "I'm faring better than he is."
Hagrid winced. "Tell him not to worry, would yeh? Dumbledore is keepin' an eye out for him; he knows what he's doin'."
Alex politely refrained from rolling her eyes at Hagrid's blind trust in the old headmaster. If the past few years were anything to go by, Dumbledore was as reliable as Seamus Finnigan's notorious spellcasting.
The salamander began to wiggle uncomfortably in Hagrid's arms, so they returned it to the hearth in Hagrid's home. Unable to refuse, Alex was forced to sit down for a cuppa and shoved some tea cakes down the hatch for extra measure. At least Fang was there to help her gobble a few when his owner wasn't looking.
Alex returned to the castle before dinner, her stomach heavy with rock-like sweets. Hagrid had bid her goodbye with an open-ended invitation to seek his assistance or advice – it didn't have to be about the tournament, but since he had never offered her this before, Alex was willing to bet it was what was on his mind. Based on this, as well as his continuous teachings on fire-based creatures, it seemed her recollection of the tournament was accurate.
Frowning tersely, Alex headed to the library. She had dragons to research.
It was still early enough in the year that the library was relatively quiet. Not wishing to arouse suspicion—or, worse still, Madam Pince's ire—Alex walked straight past the reception desk and headed towards the closest index. It was a giant tome with genres and categories ordered alphabetically. Alex tapped it gently with the tip of her wand and murmured, "Dragons." Her search was simple enough; the pages of the book flipped itself and she found the appropriate shelf numbers in no time.
Not trusting herself to remember the long string of digits, Alex duplicated the entire page before winding way around and through the shelves. She took care to avoid the hotspots and the tables she knew her friends liked to stake their places at.
Thankfully, the dragon aisle was deserted. There wasn't much reason to visit it, unless you were an avid dragon dork. A quick glance at the more commonly perused items was proof of that: the last person to actually borrow the copy of Dragons and How to Tame Them in her hands was one Charlie Weasley. Alex withdrew several similarly titled volumes and slunk towards the closest desk. Despite the immense weight of the books, she placed them softly on the wooden table for fear of being on the receiving end of Madam Pince's lectures.
By the time the bell for dinner went off, Alex had a sizeable sheaf of notes on dragons and their weaknesses. Because she wasn't a thoughtless twit, she took the time to sweep up all her books and return them to their proper places. She nearly dropped them on her foot when she noticed the typically abandoned aisle was occupied by one Neville Longbottom.
"Um," he uttered when she did nothing but stare at him, wide-eyed and red-handed. "Hi, Alex."
"Neville," she replied, smoothing her expression. Play it cool. "Hello. You interested in dragons too?"
"Oh, not really," he admitted, looking her not in the eye but somewhere to the right of her face. Was he still nervous around her? "I was mostly researching the properties of dragon dung and their effects as plant fertiliser."
Alex appeared politely interested. "Is there a particular dragon that produces the best fertiliser?" Somehow she managed to ask that with a completely straight face.
Neville finally cracked a smile. It was a small one, still shy, but it transformed his face nonetheless. He then proceeded to list off a bunch of dragons and the properties of their poop.
"That was very enlightening," Alex said at the end, smirking slightly. "Thanks."
His red cheeks were easy to spot even with the dim lighting of the library. "No problem."
A loud gurgle from her stomach reminded them both it was already dinnertime. She stared at Neville.
"I'll just go check these out, then," he said once he realised she wasn't moving any time soon. He scampered around her, as though there was a forcefield surrounding her that burnt at the touch.
Alex shook her head in bemusement once Neville. Even after all these years he was still just as skittish and strange as he had been during their first encounter. She wasn't that scary, was she? Maybe it was a Neville thing.
Once the books were in their proper positions, Alex left the library – but not before noticing Hermione. She was arguing with Madam Pince—of all people—about the borrowing limit for fifth-years.
"It's our O.W.L. year," the swottish girl said emphatically, as if Madam Pince was a newbie librarian who didn't know how things worked around here. "Five books simply isn't enough to suit our needs."
Hermione's efforts were pointless, as Madam Pince was even more unmovable than a stone statue. (A certain gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office sprung to mind.) "Fifth- and sixth-year students are permitted five selections at a time," she all but hissed. "Return one of your other items, Miss Granger, and I'll gladly allow you to borrow this. Otherwise, leave."
Alex almost let out a low whistle at the steel in the librarian's voice. Merlin only knew how Stephen ever got on her good side. "I'll borrow it for you, 'Mione," offered Alex as she approached the front desk. Best to step in now before her friend was banned for life.
Hermione's expression lit up at her timely interruption. "Thank you," she breathed, sounding immensely relieved.
Madam Pince flared her nostrils, but since Alex hadn't reached her limit yet, she couldn't object despite her intense desire to one-up Hermione.
"This school seriously needs a new librarian," Alex mused once she and Hermione had left the library. "And a new custodian," she added, watching Filch and his cat skulk by.
"A new Potions professor would be nice, too," sighed Hermione.
"How'd the rest of the lesson go?" she asked, recalling their conversation in the medical wing. "No more wayward spells?"
"No," Hermione replied with a shake of her head. "Ron noticed my teeth had changed, though, and that infuriated him and Harry."
"Why?"
"Well…" She bit her bottom lip with her newly shrunken teeth. "Right after Malfoy's jinx hit me, they tried reporting him to Professor Snape, and he – well, he looked right at my elongated teeth and said he didn't see any difference."
Hermione was blushing heavily at this point, and Alex had no doubt in her mind that she had been close to tears—if not actually crying—at the time.
Alex stopped walking, forcing Hermione to come to a standstill as well. Hesitantly, she reached out to her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's an arse, Hermione," Alex reminded her softly. "A pale, greasy, grotty bastard whose word nor opinion have any value. If you want, we could—"
"Please don't say slit his throat."
"Well, I was gonna suggest transfiguring him into a bat, but I like the way you think."
Hermione managed a small laugh at that. "I learn from the best," she joked.
"That's the spirit." Alex clapped Hermione on the shoulder before retracting her hand. They resumed their trek to the Great Hall. "Really, though, you should tattle to Professor McGonagall. I'd bet a galleon she'd demolish him without a second thought."
"Maybe," said Hermione, smiling slightly. "I don't really want to make this into a whole thing, though. Like you said, his opinion doesn't matter in the slightest."
But his intent did – and that was all that counted in the long run.
Alex waved goodbye to Hermione when they entered the Great Hall. While her Gryffindor friend went to her rightful table, Alex hemmed and hawed for a second as she debated where to sit. Her deliberation was cut short at the handful of glowers aimed in her direction, however, as she remembered her unfortunate new title as champion.
She was beginning to grow weary of the word.
As she headed to the empty seat Katherine saved for her, she heard a distinctly human voice imitate the croaking of a frog.
"Ribbit."
Her eye twitched.
Someone snickered.
Unwilling and unable to make a scene in front of the entire school plus their visitors, Alex took a deep breath and continued to her seat. She ignored the amused curl of Katherine's lips and the pathetic hunch in Agatha's back as she began plating up.
"Pass me the frog legs, won't you, Alexandra?" Jacob asked casually.
Alex put her fork down with perhaps more force than necessary, judging by the clutter of tableware around her. "How about I kick your arse instead?" she suggested calmly.
Jacob laughed. "You really need to learn how to take a joke," he said with a small shake of his head.
Alex briefly considered using her knife to stab Jacob's hand as he extended it to grab the frog legs himself. Her anger was chased away by the light touch she felt on her elbow; Katherine subtly pried her hand away before reaching for the roast.
"You should learn to control your temper," observed Katherine halfway through their meal. "No offense, Alexandra, but as Slytherin prefect and school champion, it wouldn't do you any good to have a go at every pillock that riles you up."
"I know," Alex admitted with a sigh. She had come to that conclusion herself not long ago. "It's just– it's been a long day."
Katherine hummed noncommittally. Her dark eyes darted to Agatha, who still undoubtedly felt bad about what had happened earlier.
Alex read the message loud and clear. "Water?" she offered to her guilt-ridden roommate.
"Oh." Agatha blinked rapidly in surprise. "Yes. Thank you," she said, lifting up her empty goblet so Alex could refill it. Her smile peeked out from beneath the cup as she brought it up to her lips and drank.
It was sort of pathetic how easily swayed Agatha was. Alex wondered if her pureblood upbringing had anything to do with her transparency. Agatha didn't seem like a bigot despite the values and actions of her parents – the only time she had ever really displayed such repulsive behaviour was during their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago, and that was rather tame compared to the other sorts of behaviour Alex had had the misfortune of witnessing from her peers.
She supposed it was time to settle things once and for all. As soon as dinner was declared to be over, Alex asked Agatha and Katherine to stay seated with her at the table even as almost everyone else left. A handful of people lingered behind, content to remain where they were or disinterested in returning to their overcrowded common room. A few busybodies glanced their way, openly curious, including their Housemates. Most glanced away when Alex stared them down – except for Zubair, who wiggled his eyebrows comically before laughing himself silly. She huffed in fond amusement. Only Merlin knew why he was her prefect partner.
"Are you still mad?" Agatha wondered with a slight wince. "Because I can help you get back at Jacob for that remark just now."
"What? No," replied Alex, bemused. Jacob was merely taking the piss; they both knew that. She took a deep breath to prepare herself. "I want to talk about what happened at the World Cup."
Her roommates grew uncannily still. "What's there to talk about?" Katherine asked evasively.
"Don't play dumb," sighed Alex. "It doesn't suit you."
The fact that Katherine's lips didn't twitch upwards at the indirect compliment spoke volumes.
"You already know my parents were involved," Agatha responded tightly. "Directly involved."
"And does that bother you?" asked Alex. She had to be sure.
"At first, not really," she admitted, her brow furrowed. "My parents told me they were going to spook some muggles, remind people that purebloods were still in power and ready to act whenever. I just didn't realise what they meant until I witnessed it all."
Agatha's regretful words triggered the memory in Alex's mind. She could still recall the frightened screams and shouts of the panicked crowd, the gleeful roars of the masked purebloods, the stench of smoke and magic in the air. Worst of all was the sight of the hapless muggles dancing to the macabre tune of the psychopaths below them. Their minds had been wiped clear of the horrors, sure, but obliviating was a fine art that could easily be butchered, leaving faint wisps of incidences that seemed to be neither fiction nor reality. Not to mention they were being robbed of their autonomy again by the same type of people that had caused them harm in the first place.
It was times like these when Alex could understand why witch-hunts used to be a thing.
"My father was wounded after their circle was broken," continued Agatha, her frown deepening. "His right arm and leg were burned. And all I could think was good. It was the least he deserved."
"He's your father," Alex felt the need to remind her, surprised and somewhat sceptical of Agatha's apparent righteousness.
"He was healed relatively quickly," she explained. "No scars to remind him of what he'd done."
Alex turned to Katherine, who was as still and as silent as a statue – the non-magical kind, at any rate. "Is your entire family neutral?"
"Neutral compared to Agatha's," quipped Katherine. "True neutral. The Zabinis like to pretend they're neutral, but based on the families they've allied themselves with, it's obvious they're only lying to themselves."
"So if you saw a muggleborn being harassed by a bigot, you'd just stand there and watch or—?"
"I'd intervene," Katherine said firmly. "Somehow. Discretely."
Pretty words, that was for sure. Time would reveal the sincerity behind her roommates' claims. Now, though, Alex could only sit back and relax as an air of satisfaction enshrouded her.
"You'll let me know if something's going on, right?" she asked them after meeting both their gazes steadily.
"Of course," Katherine replied breezily. Agatha remained silent.
Her roommates were many things, but neither of them were passable liars. Alex smiled at their predictable transparency.
"Great."