Chapter Forty
Troubled Waters
Alex ended up staying in the medical wing for another hour until Esther Clemmons, a Ravenclaw sixth-year, decided she was comfortable leaving. The two spoke much about nothing during the time they spent together. No personal details were exchanged, but that they have a fun time discussing every other topic they could think of.
In the hour Alex remained by her side, she learned that Esther didn't want to report McGaffin's actions to the proper authorities for the same reasons Moody had listed earlier.
"Is it really that common?" Alex asked in a small voice as a tidal wave of misery threatened to overwhelm her.
"Unfortunately," Esther replied, her eyes on the ceiling.
Alex curled into herself in her chair as that knowledge ate her up inside.
A few minutes before 10, they headed back to the Great Hall. Esther was going to tell her friends she had had one too many slices of a yule log, citing lactose intolerance for her sudden disappearance. It wasn't until she ran her story by Alex did she realise her presence was probably missed as well.
Oh, shit, she thought, suddenly recalling Cedric's existence. He's gonna be so upset.
She was right, of course. Cedric was hovering by the entrance of the Great Hall when she got there, his stoic expression flashing with relief when he spotted her before becoming cross.
"Where have you been?" he asked, voice hushed. He was well aware of the curious eyes and ears pointed their way.
"Someone needed help," Alex explained shortly, not wanting to go into details. "I intervened."
Cedric softened as he took in her dishevelled state. "Are you all right?" he asked instead of pressing for more information.
Gratitude bloomed in her chest. "I am now," she admitted, suddenly shy. "Did you at least enjoy yourself while I was gone?"
"More or less. Thought about searching for you, but I figured you were having toilet troubles."
"For an hour?" she scoffed. "My bowel isn't that awful."
"I don't know… Those yule logs we had for dessert weren't exactly easy on the stomach."
"C'mon," she laughed, heading into the Great Hall. There was an elaborate group dance taking place on the dancefloor, and Alex needed something to occupy her mind.
"I thought you didn't dance," said Cedric with some surprise even as he followed after her.
She snorted. "I wouldn't call this dancing," she replied as she slipped in between Ginny and Neville right before they linked arms and began spinning around in a large circle.
That was how Alex spent the rest of the night, mingling with friends and acquaintances as she joined them for group dances – never couple ones, though. She ran into Esther again just once during the ball; they shared small, sad smiles before moving on like nothing had happened. But they both knew they would carry the weight of the night's mishaps for the rest of their lives.
Alex collapsed into bed several minutes past midnight after the Yule Ball had officially ended, much to her relief and her peers' anguish. Agatha just barely managed to get rid of all traces of makeup from Alex's face before she fell into a deep sleep that was oddly restful, and she didn't wake up until noon the following day. She was the last to rise in her dorm and temporarily forewent eating in favour of heading down to the prefects' bathroom.
Thankfully it was unoccupied by the time she got there. She placed her basket of belongings down after ensuring the door was locked behind her and got started on brewing the perfect bath. Alex deemed it ready once all the water was hidden away by a thick layer of bubbles, stripped down, and dipped herself—and the egg—in the comfortably hot bathwater.
Alex opened her eyes then closed them again immediately as the soapy water stung them. She blindly felt along the ridges of the egg and pried it open, bracing herself for the inevitable screeching that was to follow.
Except it never came. Instead there was a chorus of beautiful but eerie voices which sang:
"Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour — the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
Alex managed to hear it once more before she was forced back up for some much-needed air. The creepy song was so memorable, though, that it was burned into her brain even after just two listens.
So, she had an hour to go belowground—underwater, based on her present circumstances—and retrieve something precious to her. If she didn't accomplish her goal by then, it'd disappear forever. What took an hour to dissolve in water? Soap? Perhaps that was the next 'golden egg', so to say.
Bemused, Alex contemplated the message again and again as she washed herself. All the dirt and dead skin cells vanished from the water, leaving it clean enough for her to wallow in it as she was wont to do. Being in the water always had a magical effect on her; she felt like all her ties to the world around her cut off once in the water, leaving her untethered and free. When she was little, and her parents forced her to take swimming lessons at the public pool, she'd happily spend hours in the chlorine-filled water. Her dad like to joke she was actually part-merperson because of that.
The Black Lake. Of course. There was no other body of water large enough to accommodate the second task. Was she going to have to fight off merpeople for their spawn this time? Would the giant squid intervene? She hoped not; it was a good friend of hers.
Once her fingers turned into prunes, Alex decided it was as good a time as any to dry off. Harry needed to be made aware of this at the very least. Maybe he and his mates could help them brainstorm ways to hold their breath for an hour.
But first, she thought grimly as her stomach rumbled audibly, lunch.
The trio was still in the Great Hall by the time she got there. Hermione and Ron were being distantly civil with one another, as though they were both trying to ignore the absolutely horrid fight they engaged in last night. Alex waited until she had enough to eat to stop the grumbles before she mentioned her breakthrough with the egg.
"That why your hair's still damp?" Ron asked, eyeing her locks. "Y'know there's a spell for that, right?"
"By all means," she said, waving a generous hand towards him.
As Ron struggled to recall the charm, Hermione praised Alex for her work, even if it was technically Moody who handed her the answer.
"Why'd he do that?" wondered Harry, sounding purely curious and not at all suspicious.
"I think he's acquainted with my mum," responded Alex, wincing slightly as a blast of too-hot hair blew out of Ron's wand and into her face. He angled it properly, smiling sheepishly as he helped blow-dry her hair. "And maybe it was a little reward for that…bastard I stopped last night."
"What happened?"
Alex shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Think instead about the second task. You don't happen to be skilled at self-transfiguration, do you?"
"What, give myself gills?" said Harry, wide-eyed. "Can't I just buy scuba gear?"
"Where would you even get that?" Alex asked incredulously, brushing some wayward strands aside as Ron's spell petered out. "Also, the task seems speed-based, so you mightn't have enough time to retrieve your precious belonging with such a heavy weight dragging you down."
"We don't learn human transfiguration until sixth year," murmured Hermione as she worried her lower lip. "Though it mightn't be of any help for you, anyway, Alex."
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she said dryly before turning back to Harry. "More importantly, you remember how to swim, right?"
Like the rest of the student body in their primary school, she and Harry had both been forced into mandatory swimming lessons once a week for a year. While Alex took to it like a duck to water (ha), she distinctly remembered Harry struggling – though that was mostly due to the bullies who thought it would be great fun to try to drown him.
"I'm passable," Harry assured her. "Maybe Sirius or Remus will know a way for us to breathe underwater for an hour?"
"Write to them," agreed Hermione with a nod. "You write to your parents as well, Alex."
Ron thumped Harry on the back. "You've got this, mate. The second task isn't for another two months, anyhow."
Alex sighed into her goblet. Nine weeks to go.
Surprisingly, there was limited information on how to breathe underwater for an extended period of time. She and the trio scoured the library in the ensuing weeks, and though Alex now knew how to cast a Drought Charm, a spell to part water, and create whirlpools, the books available at Hogwarts weren't of much assistance for the second task.
Fortunately, her parents had her back. They responded to her written request for assistance with instructions on how to perform the Bubble-Head Charm, which Alex managed to nail within a week. She practiced in the prefects' bath, and the longest she managed to hold the charm was an hour and fifteen minutes, give or take a few. However, she found through trial and error that the more hysterical she was feeling, the quicker her bubble ran out of air. And considering the horrors the lake held… Yeah, it was safe to say she was going to have to expertly manage her time.
It wasn't until February 1st that Alex shared her revelation with the trio. Predictably, Ron looked ecstatic, Harry relieved, and Hermione disapproving.
"Don't tell us the spell," she said hastily before the boys could ask. "You've already helped us enough; this feels too much like cheating."
Alex could kind of see her point. Sure, each of the competitors were receiving help in their own ways, but she was fairly sure Fleur and Viktor weren't reaching out to each other nearly as much as Alex was with Harry.
Instead of arguing with Hermione—an almost pointless feat—she simply nodded. "A fortnight," she said. "If you have nothing then, I'll teach you the charm."
Harry reached beneath his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. "Great. Thanks."
She shot him a sympathetic glance before leaving their study table and returning to the one she was sharing with Cedric. He had become exceptionally needy following the Yule Ball, and while his constant attempts to spend time with her tended to drain her, she decided it was only fair if she threw him a bone every once in a while. Besides, he was fully supportive of her as champion now that he'd seen the dangers the tournament could pose.
"I was thinking," he said as soon as she reclaimed her seat, "is the Bubble-Head Charm durable? I mean, you can maintain it for a good while, but can it be affected by external forces?"
Alex grimaced as she understood the meaning in his words. "Like, can it be popped?"
Cedric nodded, expression grim. "And if it pops while you're submerged…"
She sighed before using her wand to draw a circle around her head as she recited the all too familiar incantation. A thick, transparent bubble drifted down onto her head, its opening tightening until it closed around her neck. It actually reminded Alex of an upside-down fish bowl, or the helmet of an old-fashioned underwater exploration suit.
An extremely flimsy one, she amended as she poked a finger into the bubble, causing it to deflate like an untied balloon as all the oxygen within escaped.
"What the hell," she groaned. She'd been so preoccupied with ensuring the longevity of the charm that she had neglected to notice its most obvious fallacy.
"Maybe try reducing its size so that it only covers your nose and mouth?" suggested Cedric, frowning. "That way it'll be less likely for something to brush against it and pop it."
"Maybe. But who's to say something down in the lake won't attack me? Then I'd really be screwed." The mere idea of fighting underwater before she drowned made her shudder.
"Well…" Cedric began slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "There's another, spell-less way of breathing underwater. It's kind of illegal, though."
Alex straightened out from her slumped position. "What is it?"
Cedric leaned forward and dropped his voice an octave. "Gillyweed."
She snorted. "You mean the stuff people dehydrate and smoke?" AKA wizard's weed. It was stronger than marijuana, or so she had heard, but also less dangerous. If you smoked enough of it, you could even float off the ground for several minutes. Alex had once asked her mum which she'd rather have her smoke: muggle weed or wizard weed. She'd almost been grounded on the spot for her audacity.
"That's one way to use it," he hedged, his frown deepening. "Gillywater is a socially acceptable drink as well. But when ingested in its natural form, gillyweed basically turns humans into part-merperson. It gives you gills, webbed feet and hands, and perfect vision underwater."
Alex whistled, impressed. "Where'd you learn that?"
"From one of my Housemates," Cedric said wryly with a roll of his eyes. "I confiscated it from him last year when I found him smoking it in his dorm of all places. He was protesting the entire time, trying to convince me to leave it with him since it was so useful. Of course, that just made confiscate it even faster – I can't imagine what he'd do if he actually decided to eat it and go for a dip in the lake."
An idea bloomed in Alex's mind. She tapped her wand against her chin as she processed it. "D'you think he could get his hands on some more?"
"Sadly, yes," sighed Cedric. "It's an open secret in Hufflepuff that he still smokes gillyweed, even if he has gotten wiser about it. It'll be no small price, though."
It took a few days, but Cedric finally arranged a meeting between her and Hufflepuff's resident pothead, seventh-year Benjamin Carlson. They gathered in an abandoned Charms room during a Hogsmeade weekend to lessen the chances of anyone catching glimpse of their shady deal.
"Cedric says you need a dose of gillyweed?" Benjamin said as soon as she slipped into the old classroom. His thick arms were folded over his chest, his expression carefully schooled into one of neutrality. "What for?"
"The second task," Alex replied, seeing no need to hide that from him. "It involves diving into the lake for a good while."
Benjamin scratched at the scab on his elbow as he thought over it. "Gillyweed's hard to grow. You realise that, right?" he asked, flicking his blue eyes to her first and then to Cedric.
Alex nodded stiffly. Like other illicit resources, gillyweed was strictly regulated in most if not all magical nations, Britain included. Only licensed potions masters were allowed to request access to gillyweed, and even then its usage was scrutinised with a careful and close eye to ensure they were actually used appropriately.
"What d'you want in return for some?" Cedric asked cautiously.
"Well, first of all, I want you, Fortescue, to win the second task and the tournament overall. For betting purposes, you see," he added after catching the bemused looks she and Cedric were sending his way.
"I'll…do my best?" she offered.
"And Cedric, if you ever catch me doing something I shouldn't, I'd like you to turn a blind eye."
Cedric grimaced. "To an extent."
"Also," Benjamin continued, and Alex was beginning to regret seeking his help in the first place, "I'd like Krum's autograph. Your muggleborn friend is dating him, isn't she?"
Alex barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She has a name, she thought acidly. "They're seeing each other, I suppose." Both Hermione and Viktor were relatively private people who liked to keep things on the down-low, so Benjamin's guess was as good as hers. "But sure, I can get you his autograph." Probably.
"Great." Benjamin withdrew two things from the pockets of his robes: a glossy photo of Krum mid-flight and a sandwich bag containing what appeared to be a clumped ball of green rat tails.
"By the way," he said as Alex reluctantly accepted both items, "if you fail to complete your end of the bargain, five hundred galleons will suffice." He flashed her a greasy grin that wouldn't have been out of place on the face of a hustler.
"Fine," she bit out even as Cedric seemed to be having a small cardiac arrest by her side. It'd put a significant dent in her savings, but she'd manage.
"Fantastic." His grin widened as he slanted his eyes between her and Cedric. "Say, are the rumours true? Are you two really dating?"
"Not really," Alex replied the same time Cedric answered, "Yes."
They snapped their gazes towards each other, their faces drawn into mirror expressions of shock.
"Oops," said Benjamin, who was clearly relishing his role as an annoying prat. "Miscommunication's never a good sign in a relationship. Although I suppose that wouldn't matter, y'know, seeing how you're not really together."
"Carlson," Alex forced out between grit teeth, "leave before I set your robes on fire."
The seventh-year clicked his tongue but complied, taking his sweet time as he sauntered out of the dusty room.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Alex set up a privacy spell to prevent any eavesdroppers from catching wind of their conversation – and judging by the vexed expression on Cedric's face, it wasn't going to be an easy one.
"I never agreed to date you," Alex bit out before he could say anything. "In fact, we haven't really talked about…this…since the ball." And that was ages ago.
"You needed time," replied Cedric, his brow still furrowed. "You didn't avoid me after that night. We've hung out loads – we've gone on dates to Hogsmeade whenever we can."
Alex's eyes almost fell out of her head in shock. "Dates?" she choked out, coughing slightly. "Ced, we've always gone out on Hogs weekends ever since we were allowed to. If you consider that a date, then I've dated at least ten other people ever since third year."
"That's different," he grounded out through clenched teeth. He was keeping his temper in check admirably even as his face reddened with humiliation. "That was before I told you how I felt about you."
Alex felt herself softening at the reminder. "I know," she murmured, glancing downwards. "I didn't say no, but I didn't say yes, either."
Cedric's eyes darted to the side as he tried to smother his hurt. "How long will it take? Before you know?"
She shrugged. "I've never fancied anyone before, so I'm not sure how this"—she waved her hand in a gesture that referred to everything yet nothing at all—"is meant to work. But I don't want to lie to you and promise that I'll ever reciprocate how you feel for me."
Cedric ran his hands over his face, clearly frustrated. Alex felt for him, she really did. It would've been so easy if she liked him the way he did her, but she wasn't sure she was even capable of loving someone in such an earnest manner. She could've taken the coward's route and agreed to date him, but there was no point if her heart wasn't in it. That would've been crueller, in fact.
Cedric seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion, although with much more resignation than she was experiencing. "At least I can always count on your honesty," he said, trying to lighten the mood – because that was the sort of person he was, without fail.
She smiled. "Honesty is the best policy," she quipped, even if the words felt wrong in her mouth.
"I won't say I'll wait for you," continued Cedric, his expression dimming. "I don't want you to feel pressured like that. So we'll just carry on like normal."
Ironically, it was this decision that increased Alex's fondness for him. Her smile grew. "Yeah. Sounds good."
Alex could sincerely say with all her heart that she had no interest in romance or dating at the present moment, or in the foreseeable future. So why, pray tell, was she bombarded with about a hundred presents and letters from her apparent admirers two weeks later on Valentine's Day?
"I wouldn't eat that if I were you," Zubair warned Jacob just as prodded open a heart-shaped box of chocolates. "They could be laced with Merlin-knows-what."
Love potions. Alex shuddered from behind the mountain of mail piled in front of her. Not only were the unsavoury potions accessible and relatively easy to make, they were also legal in the eyes of the Ministry. If/when she became Minister of Magic, love potions would be the first item to be addressed on her list.
Agatha flipped open an envelope. "Do you know an Ethan Lim in Gryffindor?"
"I don't know any Ethans, period," Alex muttered, poking at her blueberry muffin.
"Well, he apparently doesn't know you well, either, considering he just described your eyes as a beautiful hazel."
Katherine nodded. "They're obviously auburn."
Bemused, Alex grabbed the closest pitcher of water and charmed it so it was as reflective as a polished mirror. Two brown eyes stared back at her. What the hell's the difference between hazel and auburn? she wondered.
Jacob wrinkled his nose at the perfumed letter he was reading. "This is the eighth second-year to profess their feelings for you. You're not a pied piper, are you?"
"Kiss my arse."
"That's not a no."
Agatha rolled her eyes impatiently. "They're obviously only paying attention to Alexandra because she's a champion." She jutted her sharp chin towards Harry, who was similarly bombarded with fanmail. "Potter's pile is larger than usual."
They turned to the Gryffindor table just in time to watch a package belch smoke straight into Harry's face. Once it cleared, his glasses were completely fogged over.
"Aren't you glad you have us to help you?" Zubair asked, grinning.
"I'm eternally grateful," she replied, only semi-facetiously.
Agatha flicked through the unopened letters. "None from Diggory, unfortunately."
Alex sighed. "For the billionth time, we're just friends."
"Besides," chimed in Katherine as she refilled their tea, "him sending Alexandra a love letter is a sure-fire way to send her running to the hills."
Alex grimaced, somewhat unsettled by how well Katherine could read her. She forewent answering by picking up her now-full teacup.
After breakfast was over, and her mail carefully sorted out by her friends, Alex ambushed the trio before they could skip off to Hogsmeade – though she wasn't sure why they would want to in the first place. The little village was going to be inundated with lovesick idiots and moon-eyed couples, most of whom would be concentrated in and around Madam Puddifoot's tea parlour. Alex liked pink as much as the next person, but almost everything in the store from the shopfront to each individual teacup bore every shade of pink in existence. Duncan had once dared them to stare at the parlour for as long as they could in exchange for a prize; he ended up winning at seven minutes twenty seconds, but suffered from a nasty headache for the rest of the afternoon.
She actually spotted him and Grant after she emerged from the Great Hall post-breakfast. They were aimlessly walking hand-in-hand, chatting amicably as they lapped the courtyard. Alex watched them come in and out, smiling in amusement each time they failed to notice her. Not wanting to disturb them, she turned away and headed outside.
Although there were only two weeks of winter remaining, the chill in the air lingered. The grass was no longer frosty, so Alex was content to recline by the lake with her books to keep her company. As soon as she sat down on the conjured blanket beneath her, she couldn't pry her eyes away from the glittering Black Lake.
I'll be swimming in that in ten days' time, Alex realised with a shiver. Well, she'd always wondered how deep the lake went - at least this tournament was good for something.
As tempted as she was to fish out the gillyweed from the pocket and scarf some down right now, she had just enough to last her for the Second Task; Carlson had been meticulous about handing her the exact portion. For now, she had no choice but to stay content with watching the mostly still lake and the enormous ship moored on its furthermost side.
The Durmstrang ship was certainly positioned in the most isolated spot available – Alex wouldn't put it past Karkaroff to hide his star pupil from the rest of the student body as much as possible. Better yet, the less people around to snoop on him and his method of teaching, the better. According to Stephen's cousin, Durmstrang focused on the Dark Arts as much as the Defense against it, except they called it Incursive magic. A cute little euphemism, if Alex did say so herself. Still, unlike some of her friends, she didn't judge them for studying the Dark Arts. Knowledge was knowledge regardless of the stigma against it. In terribly skilled hands, Transfiguration could be just as deadly as any curse.
A surge of motivation suddenly swept over her. Alex fished out her notebook from her bag and flipped to the most recent entries. She'd come across a myriad of interesting water-related spells while researching for a feasible way of addressing the Second Task, and rather than skip over them dismissively like she knew Harry and co. had, she'd taken the time to note down each one. It slowed her down a considerable deal, but hey, at least she had a solution now. Harry definitely couldn't say the same.
A sweep of her eyes assured her that no one was nearby. Despite that, Alex couldn't shake the sense that she was being watched – and she probably was. The lakeside was a very open area that could be seen all the way from the castle, and even from the Forbidden Forest. Hell, they might've even been a few underwater entities lurking near the transparent surface to spy on her.
Still, it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. Alex snuffed her paranoia and moved her things closer to the lake, seizing the opportunity to practise the water charms she'd spent the past month accumulating. She'd always intended on practising within the privacy of the prefects' bathroom, but then she'd step foot into the warm, scented water, and all thoughts of doing anything seeped out of her mind.
Now, the cold air rolling off the icy lake kept her awake and alert. Alex warmed up her senses with simply exercises – basic water manipulation magic that allowed her to tug on globs of water without disconnecting it from its larger body. When she tried to separate it into a ball or stream of liquid on its own, though, its inevitably fell back into the lake with a loud and fairly messy splash. Alex eventually lowered herself so that she was lying on her belly in order to get as close to the water as possible.
"Do I even want to know?" asked Stephen from above and behind her.
"Elemental magic is hard," she said by way of explanation.
She heard him take a seat beside her. "They say it's easiest to practise with dirt, then work your way up."
Alex pulled herself back up so that she was sitting. "Makes sense," she murmured, unable to keep the disappointment from colouring her voice. "Sick of holing yourself up in the library?"
He snorted. "Not yet. But in between the frisky couples and Madam Pince's tirades, I can't say I'd get much work done."
"Work?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow. "You that fussed about O.W.L.s?"
He ignored her question in favour of asking one of his own. "Do you want to hear a story?"
"Always," she replied, stretching her legs out in front of her and getting comfy on her blanket.
Stephen curled in on himself so that he could hug his knees in front of him. Unlike herself, he was dressed in muggle clothes—he probably missed wearing pants—and appeared rather cold. Alex took the initiative to conjure up a jar of fire in between them as he began his tale.
"One day," he said, his eyes on the lake, "after many years of trying, there was a girl born to a prominent pureblood family from a respectable magical village. The family's good spirits lasted less than a decade, when it became clear that she wasn't able to produce any magic. She was labelled a squib and a stain on the family's reputation. So that no one would ever find out about their shame, they locked the girl up and treated her like a slave."
Is this magical Cinderella? Alex wondered as Stephen paused for breath. Then again, there was already magic involved in the original Cinderella… Were the Grimm brothers wizards?
Stephen continued, unaware of the revelation that was presently shaking Alex to her core.
"The only time she found peace was during her excursions to a nearby lake. She wasn't let out much, but when she was, the lake in the woods was the first place she headed off to. One day, after a particularly bad confrontation with her family, the girl wept and wept.
"Her uncontrollable sobbing eventually gained some unwanted attention. A scaly head popped out from the surface of the lake and asked in a shrill voice what was wrong. The merperson listened to the girl's story and grinned sharply. Would you like to get away from them once and for all? asked the merperson. When the exhausted girl nodded, the merperson broke off a scale from their own arm and offered it to the girl. Swallow it, they said, so she did.
"The effect was instant. The girl cried out in pain as she felt her body shift and change. She stumbled into the water, but instead of sinking to its depths and drowning, she felt light as a feather in the cold lake. She was no longer human, nor a squib, but a merperson – and all the happier for it."
Stephen turned to her the moment his story ended. "What d'you think?"
"Did you make that up yourself?" asked Alex.
"Just now, yeah."
She shot him an impressed look. Not bad for an impromptu story. "Bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure you'll smooth it over with time. Is that possible, by the way? The transformation?"
"Dunno," he said with an easy shrug. "Kinda hope it is, though."
"I don't think being a merperson is all fun and games," reflected Alex, chunks of text floating through her mind as she recalled all the research she'd done. "They're not like The Little Mermaid."
Stephen was quiet for a moment. "Have you read many magical fairy tales? As in those exclusive to witches and wizards."
Alex nodded. Her parents had read them to her all the time from ages 0 to 8.
"Have you noticed none of them feature muggleborns in a good light? Muggles, either. They're always the villain or the buffoon – no one remotely admirable," he added with a notable degree of bitterness.
"I haven't," she admitted softly. "But now that I think about it…"
"The same can be said of stories published in the magical world to this day," Stephen continued, evidently on a roll. "The closest we get is a pureblood wizard raised with the belief that he was a muggle, and the author spares no opportunity shitting on the muggle world throughout the narrative. That's why I'm making my own stories."
Alex regarded her friend in a new light. "Is that what you've been doing the past few months?" Forget O.W.L.s; this was arguably more important.
Stephen nodded, calming down slightly now that all his pent-up steam had been aired out. "My sister's part of a Ravenclaw-exclusive book club, and she noticed that none of the novels they read any respectable muggleborns as the main characters, so I'm trying to fix that. So far I've only managed to get one of my short stories published in a monthly literature journal, but I've got time."
"Damn," she muttered. Stephen had always seemed so languid and lazy, but he was a Ravenclaw through and through. "Well, if you ever need help, you know who to ask."
He smiled wryly. "My Housemates?" he quipped.
Alex laughed. "Exactly."