It took a month for Alice to recover. And when she did she couldn't say what happened to her. Only that she remembered a cold black closing in.
Word that Professor Longbottom's daughter had been cursed spread like wildfire throughout the school. Especially since the offending object was never found. It would never be known what had cursed her or how it had been done.
James and Jerry, true to their word, kept their mouths shut about Rebecca. James felt a growing sense of injustice about the whole situation. How she could just get away with everything when, at least to James, her involvement was obvious was beyond him.
He'd written a letter to his parents about the situation. Their reply was firm. The curse was too strong to have been done by a child. It was dark magic, and very advanced. There was no possible situation where she was responsible. Drop the subject.
So James suffered in silence, sitting next to his mortal enemy in Potions, a sick feeling twisting in his stomach as he thought about all she had done and what she was capable of doing next.
Rebecca had become very withdrawn and quiet since the incident. She was even paler than usual, and her face appeared gaunt, with dark circles under the eyes. It was clear something was occupying her mind.
Alice was no better. When she was released from the hospital wing, she couldn't walk long distances without swaying and feeling dizzy. Her hands shook uncontrollably, and she would often forget what she was saying mid-sentence.
It took two weeks for her to return to normal, and even then she was afraid and paranoid, jumping at small noises and peeking around corners whenever she turned them. This was, she confessed to Jerry and James, the result of some rather terrifying hallucinations.
"I kept seeing this pair of awful red eyes," she told the two boys one night in the common room. "And a horrible smell. I can't even describe it. It just smelled like rot and decay. It was disgusting."
"Like an old building?" Jerry asked curiously.
Alice shivered, "Like a body."
There wasn't much either of them could say to that.
The entire school was on high alert. Students were told to travel everywhere in groups of at least two. The restricted section was shut down completely in case more cursed objects remained. And Hogsmeade visits were banned lest someone managed to smuggle in another cursed item.
And it was precisely for this reason that James found himself visiting Hagrid's hut less frequently. In fact, he hadn't visited at all since Alice had woken up. At least not until he got a letter from Hagrid.
James,
Fang's dead. Funeral's tonight. You have permission to come down to the hut at 7.
- Hagrid
James set down the letter and ran a hand through his hair. Fang was dead. Poor Hagrid. That dog had been his companion since James' dad had been at Hogwarts. James remembered all the stories. What would Hagrid do without Fang? James couldn't think how things could get any worse.
That was until he showed up at the funeral and saw Rebecca through the window of Hagrid's hut.
Hagrid was sitting on the front steps of his house, his face puffy and red from crying. He rose when he saw James, wrapping him in a great, big bear-hug.
"Thanks for comin', James."
"What's she doing here?" James asked bitterly, ignoring Hagrid's greeting.
"Ah, don't be like tha'," Hagrid's eyes filled with fresh tears. "She's not so bad. And she loved that dog."
James looked again through the window and was shocked to find that Rebecca was indeed crying. Looking out the window, she noticed James staring and hastily tried to wipe away her tears to no avail.
A polite cough came from behind, and James turned to see Professor Longbottom holding a bouquet of flowers, Professor McGonagall standing next to him, looking very sorrowful.
"Thanks for coming," Hagrid said, breaking down completely. "He would've loved to see you all here."
"Of course, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall said.
This was the first time James had heard her speak informally. He found that when she wasn't addressing a large group of people, her voice had a softer, almost pleasant, quality to it.
Professor Longbottom handed Hagrid the bouquet, "For the grave."
"Thanks," Hagrid blubbered. "I already dug it over there. Took me forever. The ground was frozen near solid."
He pointed to a mound of freshly piled dirt, an awkward clump of rocks sitting at its head.
Rebecca came out of the hut, and in almost comical fashion, their strange group stood around the grave, ready to pay their respects to Fang.
"Would anyone like to speak?" Hagrid asked through his tears.
It was silent to the point of discomfort. Eventually, Rebecca cleared her throat.
"I only knew Fang when he was a very old dog. But even then, he had a big personality and an even bigger heart. I wish I had more time with him, like all of us do. But at the end of the day, I'm just glad I knew him. We'll miss you, Fang."
Hagrid wailed loudly, blowing his nose into a massive green handkerchief.
"Well said," Professor Longbottom nodded.
Rebecca simply cast her eyes downward.
The five of them stood at the grave, staring at it a little bit longer. It was McGonagall who broke the silence first.
"I must get back to the castle. Please try to get some rest, Hagrid. You look exhausted."
And nodding to the rest of their party, she hurried off into the night.
"We all need rest," Professor Longbottom said. He gestured to Rebecca and James, "I'll take you two back up to the castle. It's dangerous for you to go alone right now."
Patting Hagrid on the shoulder, James acquiesced without much protest. He did feel rather sleepy.
Trudging up the hill to the castle, James saw the light in Hagrid's hut go out, signaling that the gamekeeper had gone to sleep. He felt a little better knowing Hagrid wasn't standing outside all alone in the cold of February.
In the foyer, Professor Longbottom left to go to his own room, leaving Rebecca and James alone. James immediately turned to go, but Rebecca called out after him.
"Wait!"
"What?" he snapped.
"How's, um, how's your friend?" she asked.
"Like you care."
"I do care!"
"She's terrified for life, probably, thanks to you," James said.
"How many times do I have to tell you: I didn't do it!" Rebecca protested.
"Tell that to the item I saw you pocket," James said.
Rebecca looked like she'd seen a ghost. Her face turned grey and her eyes widened every so slightly.
"That's right," James said, glad to finally have the upper hand. "I saw you wrap something in a handkerchief and take it with you. Probably what you used to curse Alice."
"It's not what you think," Rebecca stepped forward.
"So you admit there was something!"
"I admit nothing!"
"What did you do to Alice?"
"I didn't!" Rebecca said, her eyes bulging out of her head. "I swear!"
"Sure," James scoffed, "just like you don't know what happened to Casper."
And before she could deny that too, James walked away, seething with rage. He'd get that object if it was the last thing he did.
