Chapter Fifty-Six
Mind Matters
Leaving the Inquisitorial Squad was a huge relief. Not only did she have less responsibility, Alex suddenly found herself with heaps of free time on her hands, which she dedicated to her studies at last. Exams were around the corner, and though they didn't mean as much to her as the next sixth-year, she couldn't bear to see her parents' disappointment when faced with her grades.
There was one subject she was particularly interested in improving upon. It took some planning and coordination, but eventually she and the trio decided to bite the bullet and work on what Alex liked to call their mind magic. They ran the risk of Umbridge finding them, but even if she did, what was she going to do? Punish them for forming a study group?
"I mean, she might," reasoned Ron as they shuffled into an abandoned classroom on the upper floors of the castle. "I really wouldn't put it past her."
Harry snorted. "I think she's got her plate full as it is."
Inspired by the Weasley twins' legendary prank, other students had begun pulling mischief of their own accord. Be it sneaking nifflers into Umbridge's office or defacing her educational decrees, their new headmistress was far too busy to concern herself with a simple study session amongst three O.W.L. students and their sixth-year classmate.
"Will we take turns keeping watch?" wondered Alex as she darted a glance towards the locked door. She'd charmed it so that it would remain unaffected by a basic Unlocking Charm, but Umbridge had made it clear that she had no qualms about forcing her way into rooms she had no business poking her nose into.
"No need," Ron said excitedly. He pulled out a carefully folded square of yellowed parchment from his robes. "Look what Fred and George gave us the other day."
He tapped his wand against the seemingly blank parchment and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink bled onto the parchment from the centre where the tip of Ron's wand was placed against it. It spread out to all four corners of the sheet, not in a haphazard way but one that was systemic. At first glance it seemed like a typical map of Hogwarts, but upon closer inspection it was clear it was so much more.
"Holy shit," Alex muttered. "It's live."
She watched with avid eyes as footsteps moved around the school like ants on a constant march. A quick glance at the upper levels revealed her name, clustered with the trio's. It was honestly kind of terrifying.
"The Room of Requirement isn't here," she realised with a frown.
"That's because my dad and his mates never found it," explained Harry.
"Your dad?"
Nodding, he flipped to the back of the map, where a welcoming message was printed for the reader's benefit. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present the Marauders Map.
"Holy shit," she murmured again. "This is some complex magic." She couldn't even fathom how long it would have taken to create such a thing.
"When I told Sirius, he was over the moon," said Harry, grinning. "He thought Filch had destroyed it ages ago."
"Fred and George nicked it from his office before we even got here," remarked Ron, a hint of awe imbued in his voice. "They've been holding onto it since."
"That explains so much," confessed Alex, still peering at the map. "Can it be Duplicated?"
Harry shook his head. "It's too imbued with magic or something."
"Or something," echoed Hermione, giggling.
"Why did the twins give it up all of a sudden?" asked Alex, bemused. "This thing is worth galleons."
"Well…" Ron shifted uncomfortably behind the dusty desk he was perched by. "They reckon they're gonna be expelled soon. It's no secret who set off the fireworks yesterday."
Hermione snorted. "It'd be less obvious if they stopped selling their Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs," she said dryly.
"Expelled…right before graduation?" Alex couldn't fathom it. "What?"
The look of understanding Hermione shot her told her she was on the same wavelength. The yearbooks! The going away ceremony! Riding the boats one last time!
Movement on the map snagged her attention. "Ugh, Crabbe is on his way here," Alex noted.
They watched as his name drifted closer to theirs. With bated breath they waited for him to try and jiggle their door open, but the fifth-year Slytherin waltzed past their hiding spot without so much as a pause in his steps.
She shook her head. "Anyway," she said, turning back to the others, "Occlumency. How's that going?"
"It isn't," Harry replied flatly.
She blinked. "Come again?"
"He snooped into Snape's penseive and saw a humiliating memory," clarified Hermione when it became evident Harry was keeping mum.
Alex directed an unimpressed expression his way.
Harry straightened indignantly. "Well, he gets to spend our Occlumency lessons rifling through my memories, why can't I do the same to him?"
That was like comparing apples to oranges, but whatever. When it came to Snape, there was no reasoning with Harry. "What did you see?" she couldn't help but ask.
To her surprise, Harry ducked his head as though ashamed. "I saw the Marauders bullying Snape in their final years at Hogwarts."
Alex sucked in a sharp breath. "Yikes. I can understand bullying him now, but what was he like before?"
"Alex!" protested Hermione. She elbowed a snickering Ron in his side.
Harry perked up a little. "He…mostly kept to himself. And then he called my mum the m-word."
Alex felt her lips purse together. If only she could go back in time and sucker-punch Snape right in his dirty mouth. "Git," she spat.
"Still can't believe he and your mum were mates," confessed Ron. "That's like me and Malfoy getting along."
"Does Malfoy wanna shag you?" Alex asked before she could think twice.
Hermione let out a horrified squeak while Ron paled dramatically. There was a loud noise as Harry's face collided with his desk.
"Anyway," she said before they could hex her. "Occlumency. Shall we?"
Saying Alex's Occlumency skills had gone rusty would be putting it lightly. Harry's Legilimency barrelled through her pathetic defences as if her mental shield was made of literal paper. To her infinite embarrassment, he caught a glimpse of her final meeting with Umbridge, which was the very last thing she wanted anyone to see and so of course was at the forefront of her mind.
Harry pulled away when he noticed her struggling to fight back. "She dosed you with Veritaserum?" he asked, horrified. "That hag tried to do the same thing with me!"
"Except you were smart enough not to drink it," realised Alex, chagrined.
"Merlin's beard, that woman is all kinds of awful," murmured Ron, his face growing red.
Hermione peered at her with wide eyes. "Is this why Cedric told me to cancel the publication with Rita?"
Alex nodded grimly, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Let's keep going," she said, changing the subject as she lifted her wand.
Once they were done, Alex left the classroom with a mild headache building between her eyes and a promise to keep about copying her O.W.L.s notes for the trio. It remained a mystery whether Hermione would stoop to the boys' level and use them instead of relying on her own prowess to achieve an O in every subject, but the notes served as a nice backup in case someone wiped all memory of her studies. Alex reassured her that if such a thing happened, she had far more important things than an exam to worry about, but Hermione refused to listen, the silly swot.
"Do you have any tips?" more than one fifth-year asked her before their very first O.W.L.
"Take it easy," replied Alex as she rubbed the crud out of her sleepy eyes. "Save all that energy for your N.E.W.T.s."
The seventh-years were completing their exams on the same day as the fifth-years, except their sessions occurred an hour or so earlier; that way the exam proctors didn't have to waste twice as much of their time at one school.
"Good luck," Alex told Cedric as he waited outside the hall for his Transfiguration N.E.W.T.
"Ossio Dispersimus," he muttered back distractedly from behind his study notes.
"You know," Katherine said conversationally later in the common room, "we have our own exams to study for."
Alex, who had spent the past half-hour trying to turn a paper airplane into a butterfly, replied, "Really? I had no clue."
"Your marks have been slipping," Agatha reminded her with a frown. "You need to pick up the slack or you'll never be an auror."
I'll probably be dead before I reach twenty. Alex sighed and threw her airplane into the roaring fire. "Okay, okay, I'll crack open a book."
Studying used to be second nature to Alex. Though she was no Ravenclaw, she had enjoyed reading anything and everything about the magical world in her younger years. But the material provided in their syllabus was such thestral shit, especially DADA. At least Runes were worth her while. Alex subconsciously rubbed the fingers she'd had to slice open around this time last year.
There was one silver lining to her pre-exam week, and that was the Friar's Deathday party. After Hexing herself so that she temporarily lost her sense of smell, Alex Charmed a store-bought, owl-delivered birthday cake way past its expiry date. Initially pink and white, the cake soon turned into a green and black mouldy mess.
"Wow," remarked Katherine when she showed off her handiwork to her roommates. "One whiff of that thing and you'd drop dead."
"Wanna test that theory?" Alex asked, smirking. She hovered her hand over the opening of the cake box. It was cardboard save for the transparent plastic top that provided a brilliant view of the snack within.
"I think we're okay," squeaked Agatha. Just the very sight of the affront to nature in Alex's hands made her queasy.
The ghosts loved it as much as Alex's living friends loathed it. Sir Nicholas was especially vocal with his praise that night in one of the old dungeons the ghosts liked to throw parties in. It was surprisingly clean and warm, reminding her somewhat of the dungeons that housed the Slytherin common room.
"I had my own 500th party here in this very dungeon not too long ago," Sir Nicholas admitted to her as he showed her around the admittedly small space. "A shame you couldn't come, Alexandra."
Had she even been invited? No matter. "You would've gotten an equally amazing cake," she told him sympathetically. "How old is the Friar turning anyway?"
"A thousand and fourteen-years-old," he replied, a note of admiration ringing in his voice. "And to think, he's lost none of his good humour over the millennium."
"Unreal," she agreed, watching from afar as the Friar guffawed loudly at something one of his other guests said. She brought a goblet of wine to her lips; it was a few years past its use-by date but was by far the freshest thing available. The Friar had had it brought it just for her, the lone undead guest.
Sir Nicholas was openly envious at the relish she displayed over her drink. Aged though his own serving was, the ghosts could only taste an echo of what she could. Then his attention was diverted by the end of the dagger poking out of her sleeve.
"Oh, you're a knife-wielder?" he asked casually. "I didn't realise anyone of this century even owned knives, let alone used one."
"Uh, they don't," she admitted, blushing lightly at the inadvertent reveal. "It's just something I like to keep on me."
"Yes, yes, I suppose it wouldn't hurt," he murmured thoughtfully. "Can it be imbued with magic?"
"I dunno, really. Never tried."
"Oh, you should give it a go," he advised her enthusiastically. "The possibilities are almost endless! I'm no expert, but Lord Draben over there certainly is. Lord Draben!"
A ghost in a long coat and tall top hat drifted over curiously. He nodded first at Alex and then to Sir Nicholas. "How can I be of service, my old friend?"
Sir Nicholas beamed. "Lord Draben, this young witch here is Alexandra Fortescue. Alexandra, Lord Draben is a talented knife-thrower. The best in the world, I'm willing to bet!"
Silver pooled into Lord Draben's cheeks. "Poppycock," he huffed, nonetheless appearing pleased by the praise. "It was merely a hobby of mine, something to entertain the other lords and ladies with."
"You are far too humble for your own good," admonished Sir Nicholas. "Well, there's only one way to determine how talented you are."
Lord Draben acquiesced with a soft sigh. Either he was a pushover or very fond of Sir Nicholas.
Probably both, mused Alex as she watched the strange ghost pull several transparent knives from his person. They were metal throughout, sort of like mini butcher's knives. Alex wondered if the lack of a coated hilt or any other embellishment affected its aerodynamics.
Lord Draben repositioned himself so that he was facing the wooden door. Alex hastily tapped into her magical sense to check no one was behind the door or moving towards it. Fortunately, they were in the clear – or masking their presence.
Without warning, Lord Draben threw a knife, then another, then another. Alex and Sir Nicholas clapped politely while he retrieved his knives.
"That's nothing," he said dismissively. "I can do all three at once."
At least half the party had stopped to watch the show being put on. Lord Draben, either ignorant or apathetic to his growing audience, fluidly flung his three knives at the door; they landed in a straight line beside each other.
The applause this time was louder. "Try a moving target!" urged one of their onlookers – a nun of all people.
"Oh, this looks grand," laughed the Friar. He rubbed his hands together anticipatorily. "I'll volunteer."
The Friar played the part well. He floated back and forth in front of the door, reminding Alex of those plastic targets people aimed for at carnivals. The mental image provided by that comparison had her grinning.
"You're quite excited to see the deathday boy skewered," Sir Nicholas noted wryly.
Alex shook her head, still smiling, but didn't disagree.
Lord Draben took microcosmically longer to prepare himself for the throw this round. He flicked his wrist, and less than a second later, the Friar found a knife lodged in the middle of his head. He gamely went still, allowing Lord Draben to pin him in the chest and then the groin, amusingly enough.
Alex actually did laugh then, as did many of the ghosts. The Friar himself was chuffed.
"Good show, m'boy, good show!" complimented the Friar over the raucous applause of the partygoers.
Lord Draben bowed before retrieving his knives.
"Can you teach me how to do that?" Alex asked when he made his way back to them.
Lord Draben's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "I don't see why not." It wasn't like the ghosts of Hogwarts had much on their plates.
Alex spent the rest of the evening practising with some knives she conjured up. Her first throw was pitifully far from its mark, startling the Grey Lady badly enough that she dropped her plate. Alex smiled sheepishly and repaired the shattered glassware, but the damage was done; the Grey Lady turned her nose up at her and wandered off.
With Lord Draben's somewhat questionable guidance, her knife-throwing ability improved by the party's end. She managed to throw several knives into the door, forming a smiley face that was more or less discernible.
"Good enough," he decided with a pat of her shoulder. Alex tried not to shiver beneath his ice-cold touch.
"Thank you for inviting me," Alex told the Friar as she left.
"Thank you for the cake!" he responded brightly. "Til next time!"
It was close to midnight when she left the party. Time flies when you're throwing knives, she thought to herself with a chuckle. Despite the late hour of the night, Alex was feeling strangely restless. The Slytherin common room was close by, but rather than retreating to her room, she decided to go for a wander to burn off the excess energy in her system.
Wanting to see the cosmos, she ascended a nearby staircase and continued to climb upwards until she was satisfied with a window that presented the best vantage point for stargazing. If there was one thing she missed about school during the holidays at home, it was the absence of artificial light polluting the skies. Without the manmade interference, the constellations glittered clearly against the dark backdrop of the night sky. As she leaned against the window frame, admiring what the universe had to offer, she had half a mind to find Firenze and ask him for a private Astronomy lesson.
Lights below returned her attention back to earth. Several pinpricks of what could only be lumos were clustered together and making a direct beeline for Hagrid's house. Alex watched, frozen with mounting horror, as Umbridge of all people knocked furiously on Hagrid's door.
Less than a second later, the half-giant threw his door open, barely holding a snarling Fang back. From where she was leaning out of the window, Alex could see that loaded words were exchanged, and Hagrid must've said something Umbridge greatly disliked, for she raised her wand and attempted to Stun him, as did the rest of her mob.
Alex gasped even as the air fought to rush out of her lungs. Despite taking several Stunners directly—one at point-blank range—Hagrid was still standing. The curse had no effect on him.
His pet was nowhere near as hardy. Fang went down with a howl in his attempt to protect his owner. He was only unconscious, of course, and not necessarily in any real danger, but Hagrid went ballistic. He seized the person responsible for harming his dog and threw him bodily to the ground. Difficult though his predicament was, Alex couldn't help but wince at the sight. Hagrid's victim would be lucky to receive no more than a couple of bruises.
Another figure rushed towards Hagrid – to aid him. It was Professor McGonagall, identifiable even dressed in her nightgown and with her hair down. Her wand was out, but before she could so much as utter a spell, she took no less than four Stunners straight to her chest.
Alex screamed. No one heard her.
She felt cold tears carve a path down her cheeks as Hagrid scooped Fang up and abandoned the scene as quickly as he could. Umbridge was trying and failing to Stun him, and screeched unintelligibly when Hagrid continued, pace unbroken, into the Forbidden Forest.
Alex's knees met the hard floor as she sunk to the ground, feeling as though she herself had been cursed. She inhaled a shuddering breath to impede the sob that threatened to break free. The illusion of Hogwarts as a safe place was well and truly obliterated.
Calm down, a voice a lot like her mum's urged her. You need to get help.
Right. Professor McGonagall was the one suffering here.
A glance at her watch warned her that Madam Pomfrey mightn't even be awake at the moment, let alone in the hospital wing. Her room had to be close by, surely.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, she thought as she ran down the stairs. By the time she reached the grounds, the bastards who had assaulted Professor McGonagall in the first place were levitating her inert body via levicorpus and heading back into the castle.
Alex clung to the shadows, reflexively Disillusioning herself in the process, and watched with bated breath. To her infinite relief, the mob was making their way to the infirmary. Alex tailed them the entire way, careful not to reveal herself, and made sure Madam Pomfrey actually got her hands on the comatose professor before ducking back to the Slytherin common room.
It was deserted, of course. Alex lit the fireplace and played with the green flames until her mind finally quieted. She swapped her wand for a nearby cat, pulling the fat lump into her lap and petting it until it drooled on her. She plopped it on the carpeted floor and spent the rest of the night staring at the fire until her eyes grew too heavy to keep open.
She woke up within a few hours when a fluffy white cat catapulted itself off the floor and right onto her stomach. Wheezing, Alex clambered off the regrettably plush sofa and forced herself up the stairs and into her own bed. Her roommates were sleeping soundly, undisturbed by her late arrival even as she parted the curtain around her four-poster and slipped beneath her covers.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun was high in the sky and her room was abandoned. Alex remained in bed, exhausted despite having just woken up. It was only when the memory of what happened last night came crashing like a tidal wave did she disentangle herself from her sheets and into the shower.
Afterwards, she went down to the Great Hall for lunch. By the time she reached her seat between Katherine and Agatha, she'd heard about a dozen variations of last night's incident. Professor McGonagall had been hit by ten Stunners. No, by the Cruciatus. She even dodged the Killing Curse!
"I hate this school," Alex mumbled around a banana walnut muffin.
"There's never a dull moment," countered Katherine.
"Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall…" Agatha glanced up at the teachers' table. "She's really taking over the whole school, isn't she?"
Alex didn't bother tracing Agatha's gaze. The very sight of Umbridge sitting smugly in the headmaster's spot would send her blood pressure through the roof.
She needs to go, decided Alex, her expression hardening.
"Fortescue. Hey, Fortescue."
Alex flicked her eyes from her plate to the fifth-year calling for her. Blaise Zabini flashed an admittedly charming smile her way.
"I hear you're giving away your O.W.L. notes?" he said without elaborating.
Alex huffed at the thinly veiled request. "To my friends, yes," she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching into the beginnings of a smirk.
Blaise placed a hand against his chest in a show of faux consternation. "Are you saying we aren't friends?"
If she were single and suaver, Alex would've tilted her head and quipped, No, Blaise, we're more than that. As it was, she simply chuckled and passed a copy of her History of Magic notes to him. She'd made several for her other fifth-year friends. "For your eyes only," she said, the levity in her voice betraying how serious she actually was.
Blaise nodded. Message received.
"You're way too generous for your own good," Katherine said bluntly as she buttered her crumpet.
"A little generosity never killed anyone."
Katherine put down her butter knife and arched an eyebrow at her.
"Well, it's not like my notes are gonna save his arse. His exam is in less than an hour," said Alex, glancing at the chalkboard at the front of the Great Hall. As soon as lunch was over, the proctors would transform the room into an area suitable for an exam.
After stuffing herself with an inappropriate amount of finger sandwiches, Alex strode over to the Hufflepuff table where Cedric had just finished his own meal left the hall. "Wanna visit Professor McGonagall?" she asked after waving hello at his friends.
Cedric reached over and squeezed her hand. "Sure."
"How was your exam?" she asked, swinging their joined hands slightly as they left the hall. "Transfiguration this morning, right?"
He nodded. "Honestly, we were all a little distracted by what happened to our Transfiguration professor last night," he confessed, frowning. "My lion was without a mane, but it could have passed off as a lioness?"
Alex smiled. "Are you telling me or asking me?"
He laughed. "Well, at least that's that. I'm a free man now."
"Well," said Alex, "until graduation. Then you say hello to life as an employed member of society. At least it's not a regular nine-to-five," she added when she saw Cedric's frown deepen.
"A professional quidditch player's schedule is so hectic most people wish for a nine-to-five," he sighed.
"Yeah, but regular office workers don't have dedicated fans screaming their name," she reminded him with a grin.
"Are you one of those fans, then?" he asked, amused.
Alex scoffed. "Get real."
"Right, the screaming of my name occurs in a different context."
Alex could feel her entire face turn beet red. "Prat!" she yelled, punching him in the arm hard enough to make him wince. Mortified, she released his hand and basically ran the rest of the way to the hospital wing, Cedric laughing softly behind her.
Madam Pomfrey narrowed her gaze at Alex the moment she opened the door to the infirmary. "You again," she grunted. "What happened?"
Alex scowled while Cedric stifled a chortle. "Just here to visit the professor," she muttered.
The healer's eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "I'm afraid she isn't here, Miss Fortescue. She was transferred to St. Mungo's this morning. Four Stunning Spells straight to the chest at her age? It's a wonder they didn't kill her."
What…the fuck…?
"What now?" Cedric asked as the doors closed shut once more.
"Wanna fight?" suggested Alex.
They ducked into a nearby classroom and duelled. After about a dozen matches wherein no one really won, they took a well-needed break that was ultimately spent trying to see who could produce the most drinkable aguamenti. They were in the middle of fighting about that when they heard footsteps right outside the door – no doubt headed straight for the hospital wing.
Alex sprung up from the sprawled-out position she and her mates had assumed. "Something's wrong," she said, thinking of Professor McGonagall. Had Umbridge given someone else the boot?
She cracked open the door just in time to see Harry run away from the hospital wing like he was being chased by the devil himself. "Oi!" she hollered, waving for emphasis. "What's wrong?"
Harry skidded to a halt, his eyes wild like a madman's. "Voldemort's got Sirius."
Alex felt as though someone had cast the Freezing Jinx on her. "What?" she gasped.
Harry nodded once. "I fell asleep during my exam and saw it – saw Voldemort torture Sirius, felt myself lift his wand and cast the Cruciatus." He swallowed heavily. "I know exactly where they are: a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven. He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there. No doubt it's the weapon the Order's been talking about for months now."
Scowling, Alex scanned the corridor for any presences, visible or otherwise. "Not out here," she hissed, tugging him into the classroom – or attempting to, anyway.
Harry wrenched his arm out of her grasp with startling force. "There's no time!" he snapped. "Don't you see? We have to rescue him now! Dumbledore and Hagrid and McGonagall are gone. There's no one else but us!"
"So you wanna run headfirst into Voldemort's open arms?" she asked incredulously. "Use your brain for one fucking second, Harry. Have you even considered that this vision was planted in your mind purposefully? That Voldemort has done what we feared this whole time and manipulated this weird connection of yours and exploited your very obvious love for Sirius? What if he isn't even there? What if you get yourself killed for no reason? How would Sirius feel then, huh?!"
"We can't take that chance!" he countered, face purpling with rage. "You don't know that he isn't dying at this very moment! Or don't you even care?"
Alex couldn't help it – she slapped him. "Fuck you," she spat, chest heaving and her palm stinging. "You've no idea—"
"Everything all right out here?" Cedric asked tentatively from behind her.
Harry placed a palm against his red cheek. "If you're not gonna help, I'll find someone who will." He darted off without another word.
Alex buried her face in her hands and screamed. Stupid, reckless moron! Then she rushed after him, Cedric following her after a moment's pause.
Harry had just reached the bottom of a flight of stairs when Hermione and Ron spotted him from the top. They met halfway and were in the midst of the same back-and-forth she and Harry had engaged in when Alex caught up with them.
"But how would Voldemort even get inside the Ministry of Magic in the middle of a work day?" asked Hermione in a small voice. She and Ron both were taken aback by Harry's emotional outbursts.
"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry shouted. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been—"
"You've never been there, Harry," said Hermione quietly, pity shining through her dark eyes. "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."
"They're not normal dreams!" Harry shouted in her face, standing up and taking a step closer to her in turn. He appeared a moment away from grabbing and shaking her. How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what had happened to him?"
"True," Ron murmured unhelpfully.
"You know you guys are just kids, right?" said Cedric as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Aren't there any adults we can rely on? Aurors like Alex's mum?"
"And how exactly are we supposed to contact her?" asked Harry, growing more annoyed by the second.
Hermione brightened marginally. "That's it! Harry, use the mirror to contact Sirius! The rest of us can trying flooing HQ."
From the corner of her eye, Alex noticed Cedric shoot them an odd look. "There's only one working floo right now, and that's Umbridge's," Alex said darkly, recalling the numerous times the wretched hag had boasted about such blatant abuse of her power.
"Then break into her office," urged Harry. "You three do that while we go back to Gryffindor Tower and try to reach Sirius."
Oh, I'll just break into her office, shall I? Alex bit back a derisive snort. At least Harry was now entertaining the possibility that he was being played. "Map," she said, holding out her hand.
Harry dug out the Marauders Map that he always kept on him and passed it to her. Alex unfurled it and spoke the magic words. Umbridge was in her office.
Alex signalled to Cedric to follow her to the DADA office. "You mind distracting her?"
"What should I say?" he asked, his long legs easily keeping up with the fast pace she was setting.
"Something tantalising but predictable. Say you found Hagrid in the forest when you went for a walk. You're head boy, so basically any excuse will work."
Prior to turning the corner in the hallway that led to Umbridge's room, Alex rendered her invisible to the naked eye and pressed herself against the wall while Cedric knocked on her door and lured her out. Either Umbridge was desperate for a win or Cedric was an impressive actor, because the acting headmistress barrelled out of her room without bothering to the lock the door behind her. Cedric tailed her, if only to maintain the façade and keep her away from her office as long as possible.
Alex slipped into the office and scanned it for any magical tools or items that would give her away. Other than the decorative plates of mewing kittens (still tacky no matter how many times she saw them), Alex was alone.
She strode over to the fireplace and tossed a pinch of floo powder into the grate. Signature emerald flames burst to life the moment the powder landed in the fireplace. Grimacing, Alex knelt down and stuck her head into the fire, now fully visible. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" she said loudly and clearly.
It was like being thrown into a washing machine. Even though she was certain she kneeling on the floor of Umbridge's office, she felt like she was being tossed around not unlike a load of laundry. Ash and soot slapped her face as the floo call connected. When the spinning stopped, she opened her eyes and saw the long, cold kitchen of Grimmauld Place.
There was no one there.
"Hello?" she called tentatively. "Anyone home? There's an emergency."
Kreacher scuttled into the room. He glared furiously at her, no doubt remember the last time they had interacted.
"Kreacher," she said by way of greeting. "Is Sirius home? Has he gone somewhere?"
He turned his nose up at her. "Kreacher will not answer to a half-breed."
Alex felt her eye twitch. "Is anyone else here?" she tried again.
"Nobody here but Kreacher! Not even his Mistress here to keep him company!"
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. There was no point in continuing to engage with the spiteful house-elf. Sighing, Alex withdrew her head from the fireplace and reached for another dose of floo powder when someone grabbed hold of her hand and yanked.
"Well, well, well," Umbridge all but sang. "When I felt someone triggering my Stealth Sensoring Spells, I thought I'd catch the little imp who's been infesting my office with nifflers all month. Instead, I find a sneaky rat trying to contact Dumbledore."
"I wasn't trying to call Dumbledore," Alex snapped, pulling her hand free. She righted herself, absently noting that Cedric was nowhere to be seen.
"Liar!" Umbridge said shrilly. "You will deceive me no longer, girl! Not once were you loyal to me or the cause, were you?"
"And what cause is that?" Alex wondered sardonically. "The noble and mighty cause to traumatise as many children as possible?"
"How dare you. If you won't cooperate, there are other ways to get the answers out of you." Umbridge slid a hand to her pocket, presumably where she kept her wand.
Why she didn't have it out in the first place was no small wonder. Her lack of caution was her own undoing, because Alex was definitely the sort of person to exploit another's weakness, whether they were an authority figure or not.
In the time it took for Umbridge to reach her wand, Alex's own was already out and pointed straight at the older witch's surprised face. "Stupefy."
Umbridge fell backwards like a toppled tree. Wanting to be extra safe, Alex conjured ropes that wrapped around the sham of a professor's body and plucked her pale brown wand from her fist. Alex had just tucked the stolen wand into her pocket when the door burst open and several armed teenagers stormed inside. In addition to Cedric and the trio, Ginny, Neville and the Weasley twins were present.
"What's up?" she asked calmly in the face of their steely-eyed determination.
They had about a million questions between the seven of them, but there was no time. "Sirius didn't respond," said Harry, lips wobbling faintly.
"No one was at HQ," Alex replied, equally stiff.
"Well, then," squeaked Ron, "guess we're off to the Department of Mysteries."