[Disclaimer: Except for Alice and the extra/modified scenes, everything belongs to JK Rowling. ]
Alice had received a lot of punishments but the one for the boa constrictor incident was, by far, the worst. It included, but was not limited to, the biggest bout of ignoring she had ever been subject to. Other than to glare at her to wash the dishes or dust the living room, the Dursleys pretty much considered her non-existent. If it weren't for Dudley, Alice's lips probably would've started to mould onto each other, for lack of usage.
Dudley's PTSD was proving to be very dangerous to Alice. His bullying had increased twofold since the incident, especially since the uniform at his new school Smeltings, which was also Uncle Vernon's old school, included a long, knobbly stick. The sticks were to whack the other students behind the teachers' backs. This, was said to help develop character. ('Wow, no wonder Uncle Vernon ended up like this,' Alice had thought when she heard of the stick and its usage.)
Alice was to attend the local public school, Stonewall High. For the first time ever, she and Dudley were to go to different places. Perhaps Dudley was putting Alice through all the bullying he would've done to her, had they been going to the same school, along with his usual bullying.
One fine morning, a morning like any other, they were all seated at the breakfast table— Uncle Vernon behind his morning daily, Aunt Petunia fussing over Dudley who was waving his Smeltings stick all about the place and Alice avoiding the stick, just trying to have her breakfast in peace— when the doorbell rang, putting a pause in the family picture. It was the postman. One glower from Uncle Vernon had Alice trudging toward the front door to get the post.
She found three envelopes lying in the hallway— A postcard from Aunt Marge, a bill and a letter.
A letter. For Alice.
Alice froze with it in her hand.
'A letter for me? No way it can't be…'
But there it was, a letter addressed to a Ms. A. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. So unless there was somebody else going by 'Ms. A. Potter' in this house, besides her, this letter was, in fact, for her.
what the bloody heck
If someone had looked into Alice's mind right about then, that was what it would've looked like. She was still taking in the fact that someone had actually written to her as she walked back to the kitchen. Without looking up from the miracle in her hands, she passed Uncle Vernon the rest of the post and took up her seat next to him again.
Her heart was pounding; She could hear the blood rush in her ears as she turned the letter over in her hands. The envelope, made of some heavy yellow parchment, was sealed with purple wax which had on it, a coat of arms— a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large 'H'.
Just as she tore open the envelope with trembling hands, Dudley shouted,"DAAAAAD! Dad, look, she's opening a letter!"
"Opening a letter? What-" Uncle Vernon didn't even bother completing his sentence before snatching it out of her hands.
"Hey, hey! Give that back! It's MINE!" For once, Alice didn't think about the consequences of yelling at Uncle Vernon; The most amazing thing to ever happen to her was being taken away and she was not, for once, going to take it lying down.
"YOURS?" Uncle Vernon laughed derisively. "Who would be writing to YOU?"
The mocking look on his face immediately turned to one of shock as he took in the address and the wax seal on the letter. All the blood in his face drained away and his hands started shaking.
"P-P-Petunia!" Uncle Vernon barely managed to stutter.
Aunt Petunia's reaction was just as bad, if not worse. With a loud clatter, the spoons she had been holding in her hand dropped to the floor, and she rushed over to her husband's side, reaching out for the letter as if to make sure for herself. Her face was paler than Alice had ever seen it, and her eyes were wide and fearful as she confirmed whatever Uncle Vernon had meant.
Swallowing, she turned around slowly and said in a weak voice,"B-Breakfast is over. Both of you, leave the kitchen so I can c-clear up."
"What? What about my letter? I NEED TO SEE MY LET-"
"I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD MY THIRD HELPING YET-"
In one movement, Uncle Vernon was out of his seat, shoving Dudley and dragging Alice by her elbow out the kitchen door.
"YOU HEARD HER! OUT!" He bellowed, throwing them both out into the hallway and slamming the door shut.
x_x
Alice exhaled slowly and watched the dust rise up in a cloud. The dirty ground of an abandoned house on the rocks in the middle of the sea wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping places, and lord, was she exhausted, but at least she had a blanket and a pillow. The blanket may be thinner than a spider's web and the pillow may feel like it was filled with dead batteries, but it was a blanket and a pillow nonetheless.
Alice sighed softly. This was not where she thought she'd be on the eve of her eleventh birthday. The days leading up to this moment were a confused, panicky blur. The big freakout over The Letter had ended with Aunt Petunia letting Alice know with a strained smile that it was mistakenly addressed to her and that Uncle Vernon had 'taken care' of it. Alice had barely processed this when another surprising announcement was made— Aunt Petunia suggested she now sleep in what used to be Dudley's second bedroom. In her many years at No 4, Privet Drive, Alice had learnt protesting only made things a million times worse for her so she did what was asked. Sitting on the floor near the window of her new room that night, she'd accepted that nothing like that was ever going to happen again. Maybe she'd even imagined that this had happened in the first place. She was, is and will always be alone. She'd let that sink in, so that nothing could ever make her feel this depressed ever again. Surprisingly, Alice convincing herself that she'd made it all up just to feel better turned out to be completely pointless, because three more letters arrived in the post next day, all addressed to her. Although Uncle Vernon burnt all three, and Aunt Petunia yelled at her to go to her room, she knew that none of it was dreamt up and whoever it was, was determined to contact her. From the next day on, they started finding letters in weird places, besides the ones they received via post- rolled up in the egg cartons, stuffed in flower pots. Alice had tried everything in order to get her hands on one but her relatives were always one step ahead. They all made it to Sunday without Alice having read the letters and just as her uncle was saying that there is no post on Sundays, in came the letters. Dozens and dozens of them burst into the house, through the windows , through the fireplace, through the toilets, you name it, flooding the house with no end in sight. Uncle Vernon had finally cracked, pushed them all into the car and taken off. They stayed at a new place each night, but there seemed to be no escape— the letters would always find them. This zigzag journey is what had led them all here, to this miserable building out in the sea in the middle of nowhere, where no postman could ever hope to reach them.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Alice saw that she had traced the words,'Happy Eleventh Birthday Alice Potter' in the grime with her finger. Oh and what a joyful birthday it was. What was even sadder, though, was that this one was not much worse than any of the others she'd lived through. Alice glanced up at Dudley's hand which was hanging off of the edge of the squashy sofa he was snoring on. His digital glow-in-the-dark watch informed her that it was five to midnight. Alice briefly wondered how anyone could sleep though a raging storm like this, with the wind howling at them and the waves crashing onto the walls outside.
Eleven years old. The big one-one (Not that there was a small one-one). Somehow she felt that it was an important number. She didn't even know why. Ten should've been the special number, what with her crossing over into the two digit years of her life. Maybe it was all that letter business giving her false hope. Maybe it was because she's always referred to eleven as onety-one in her head. Somehow, onety-one seemed to suit the number more than eleven. It seemed to be the type of number that'd be different and odd.
Odd.
'I just made a punny,' Alice giggled to herself.
Sweet mother of monkey milk, she was going crazy.
Or there was something weird about the dust on the floor she'd been inhaling all this while.
'Or MAYBE it's the sleep deprivation,' Alice scolded herself for getting distracted and looked at up at Dudley's expensive watch again- five seconds to twelve.
She felt her body tense in preparation. She couldn't miss this. And she definitely wasn't going to be getting a birthday cake, let alone any candles to blow out whilst making a wish. Might as well.
00:00.
Alice expelled all the air in her lungs with one long breath blowing away the letters she'd traced in the dirt. She smiled and watched the dust settle away from her. She was eleven years old.
BOOM.
Alice twisted around onto her back with a gasp, looking up in fright. She had clearly heard something bang onto the door from the outside. Was it an extra large wave?
BOOM.
Okay, this was definitely not happening in her head. She'd seen the door shake with the impact of whatever it was just now. Alice quickly scrambled onto her feet just as Dudley shot straight up on the sofa, sleep still in his system, shouting,"THE SHIP'S SINKING, PA!"
Even her aunt and uncle were awake and standing outside their room. Alice's eyes widened when she saw that Uncle Vernon had a shotgun in his shaking hands, as he yelled,"Whoever you are, DO NOT COME INSIDE. I repeat, do not come inside or I'll sh-shoot!"
BOOM.
The door swung clean off of its hinges, finally giving in, and fell onto the floor with a loud thud, sending clouds of dust billowing all around.
Alice stood frozen. A ginormous man was silhouetted against the violent storm outside in the doorway. Dudley, who was fully awake by now, let out a whimper. Uncle Vernon looked like he'd swallowed a bullet and Aunt Petunia was cowering behind him.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then the stranger bent over and squeezed through the doorway. ('He's too big, he won't be- wait, no is he- oh what? He made it.') Once inside, he took a large step forward, finally allowing everyone to see him properly.
Round-nosed and black-eyed. Thick, long, wild, black hair and beard.A tatty brown cloak large enough for Alice to use as a tent.
She had barely taken all this in when the man cleared his throat loudly and spoke.
"Sorry abou' tha'. Storm ou'side was gettin' a bi' nasty an' you people didn' answer the firs' few times I knocked."
Knocked. He had been knocking. Oh my god.
"I'll fix tha' righ' up now," he grunted, stooping and picking up the door. With one strong push, he had it wedged in the doorway nice and tight, lessening the deafening sounds of the storm outside.
"Aah that's much better now, innit?"
Uncle Vernon, who'd been watching all this with a white face, finally found his voice.
"Whoever you are, I need you to back out that door and LEAVE. NOW. Or I will shoot!"
"Ah shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune." The man strode forwards until he was inches away from the shotgun pointed at him. He reached out, gripped the barrel in his large hands and with a quick twist, he bent it backwards.
A small squeak escaped Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon was looking at his now-mangled gun with his mouth open.
The stranger turned around like what he'd done was no big deal, and clapped his hands together."Now, where's Alice?"
Dudley, who'd been trembling on his sofa all this while, toppled over onto the ground when the man looked at him."IT'S NOT ME, IT'S NOT ME, IT'S HER! TAKE HER!" He pointed at Alice.
'Wow, thanks, cuz.' Alice mentally rolled her eyes.
The man looked at Dudley for a minute."Didn' think yeh were, either, prune junior."
Dudley's mouth fell open.
Their visitor then peered at Alice who hadn't moved or made a sound till then.
"An' here's Alice!" He cried."Lookit how yeh've grown! Las' time I saw yeh, yeh were abou' the size o' me palm." Behind his wild and messy hair and beard, Alice could see his beetle-black eyes were twinkling.
"How 'bout a cuppa tea then, eh? Or maybe summat stronger. Haven' got any Firewhiskey now, do yeh?" He addressed the Dursleys. Dudley had gotten up and scrambled over to his parents. None of them responded, their faces white with fear.
The giant man sighed, walked over to the damp fireplace and leant down. When he'd drawn back, a warm fire was burning in the hearth.
He strode over to the couch and sat down, the thing sagging under his weight. He then looked at Alice again.
"Yeh look jus' like yer dad, Alice. 'Cept fer yer eyes. Yeh've got yer mum's eyes," he said, eyes soft. "But everythin' else is James. Yeh look jus' like he did when he wuz eleven years ol'."
Alice couldn't find her man knew her parents!
"Speakin' of, I got summat here for yeh. Since it's yer birthday an' all," He continued, searching inside his coat for the something. He drew out a slightly squashed box and handed it to Alice.
With a quick glance at the man, she opened it to find a golden-brown cake sitting inside, butter from the smell of it, with 'Happy Birthday Alice' scrawled on it in bright green icing.
Even though it looked like someone had run a steamroller over it, Alice felt a slight itching in her nose and a burning lump in her throat. No one had ever given her anything for her birthday, let alone a cake made especially for her.
"I might've sat on it at some point, but it'll still taste alrigh'," the man explained a little apologetically.
Alice looked up at him, meaning to say thank you, but the words that came out of her mouth were,"Who are you?"
"Ah whoops, forgot ter introduce meself," He chortled."Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."
He held out a hand and shook Alice's arm whole-heartedly. She felt her feet leave the ground momentarily with each shake.
"Now why don' yeh have a slice o' that cake while I put the water ter boil fer the tea," He said, pulling out an entire kettle from within his coat and placing it on top of the fire.
'A birthday cake and a teapot full of water,' Alice thought.'What else does he have in there? A boat? Is that how he got here?'
She attempted to rid herself of all the distracting questions running through her head."Um, I'm really sorry, but all I really got out of your introduction was that your name is Rubeus Hagrid…" she said, confusedly.
"Call me Hagrid, everyone does. And like I said, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts. Yeh'll know all abou' Hogwarts, o'course."
"UHHH, no."
Alice knew she'd said the wrong thing when the man, Hagrid, started choking on his spit.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
"WHAT? Why are YOU sorry?! It's them who should be SORRY!" He roared, pointing at the Dursleys, who shrank back. "Not knowin' abou' Hogwarts… I mean, I knew yeh hadn' bin gettin' yer letters, but I thought they'd at least have…"
He whirled around and bellowed,"WHY WOULD YEH NOT TELL HER? WHY WOULD YEH KEEP HER IN THE DARK?"
Aunt Petunia and Dudley cowered behind Uncle Vernon, who looked like a man who's internal organs had collapsed and was mouthing words no one could hear.
"Tell me what?" Alice asked, a bit frightened at the sudden change in the man.
"Abou' you! Abou' yer parents!" He cried, his tone softening when he addressed her.
"They DID tell me! My parents died in a car crash!"
"In a CAR CR-? Now wait jus' a minute," he said turning around to face the Dursleys again., looking even angrier than before."Do yeh mean ter tell me tha' this girl here knows NOTHING, abou'-abou' ANYTHING?"
"Hey! I'm not THAT bad!" Alice interjected indignantly. "I can do, like algebra and stuff!"
"Algeb- Okay, okay,"
The man, Hagrid, squeezed the bridge of his nose and muttered,"Dumbledore did say it might be a bit hard but this…"
He strode back over to the couch where Alice was still standing, holding her birthday cake in her hands, and sat down heavily (It was a miracle the thing held). He then placed a hand as gently as he could on her shoulder and said,"Alice, listen carefully because I'm going ter tell yeh what they should've told yeh years ago."
Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice and shouted,"NO! DON'T YOU DARE TELL HER!"
Hagrid shot a look at him that warned him that he shouldn't be telling him what he dared or dared not do.
But apparently, desperation made you braver because Uncle Vernon yelled again,"STOP! I FORBID YOU!"
"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh." Hagrid waved an arm dismissively at them before continuing,"Alice, yer a witch."
For one long moment, only the waves crashing against the walls outside could be heard.
And then Alice said,"Rude."
Hagrid seemed confused,"Wha'?"
"There's no need to call me names.I know I'm not the easiest child in the world too look after," her voice faltered but she went on,"I try my hardest everyday. I get decent grades, I do my chores. I may not have any friends, but that isn't because I'm mean to anyone-"
"I'm not calling yeh names!" Hagrid exclaimed exasperatedly. "I'm jus' tellin' yer what yeh are! Yer a witch an' yeh have bin accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
Alice gaped at him."You're-you're serious?"
" 'Course I am. I reckon it's time yeh read yer letter," he took one out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.
Alice looked at it. Here it was, the object that she had been dying to get her hands on, and what had driven them all out of their house at No 4, Privet Drive. It was made of the same heavy parchment and had the same purple wax seal with the coat of arms on it as all the others. With trembling fingers, she tore the envelope open, took out the letter and started to read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
HEADMASTER: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(ORDER OF MERLIN, FIRST CLASS, GRAND
SORCERER, CHIEF WARLOCK, SUPREME
MUGWUMP, INTERNATIONAL CONFED.
OF WIZARDS)
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
what the bloody heck
This was what she had been thinking the day she had first received the letter and this was what she was thinking now after reading said letter.
She couldn't make sense of half of the things written in it. A million and one questions were racing around in her head. When she looked back up at Hagrid who was waiting expectantly, the one that came out of her mouth was,"What do they mean, they await my owl?"
"Gallopin' Gorgons, I nearly forgot! Thanks for remindin' me," He nodded at Alice and proceeded to pull out a large grey quill, an ink bottle and a roll of parchment from within the depths of his large overcoat. Dipping the quill in the ink, he wrote:
Dear Mr Dumbledore,
Given Alice her letter. Taking her to buy her things tomorrow. Weather's terrible. Hope you're doing well.
Hagrid
Alice watched him grab a dishevelled-looking owl from his pocket, tie the letter around its leg and open the window & throw it out into the storm. He then came and sat down next to Alice with not the slightest change of expression on his face, like what he had just done was as normal as texting someone.
"Now where was I?"
At that moment, a voice stated firmly,"She's not going. I'm not going to let her."
Hagrid turned around to fix his gaze on a panting Uncle Vernon, who had spoken.
"Ha!" He snorted. "As if a Muggle like yeh could stop her!"
"Mug-Muggle? What's that?" Alice enquired interestedly.
"A Muggle. Non- magic person," Hagrid explained." And these three happen to be the most Muggle-ish Muggles I've ever seen."
Uncle Vernon scrunched up his pig-like nose, offended."She's NOT GOING. She'll need money won't she? I'm not paying for her."
Alice looked around at Hagrid who immediately responded,"Yeh rilly think that James and Lily left nutin' fer their only daughter?"
Her uncle looked like he was ready to burst."SHE'S NOT LEAVING FOR THAT FREAKHOUSE! For years we have tried to stomp out all that rubbish out of her worthless body, and you can't just barge in and RUIN EVERYTHING!"
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, hold on."Alice interrupted. "You KNEW? All this while? You knew I was a-a witch?"
"Knew? OF COURSE WE KNEW!"
To Alice's shock, it wasn't her uncle who had exploded, but Aunt Petunia who hadn't said a word until now.
"We knew the minute you landed on our doorstep that you would be as abnormal, as-as unnatural — as that bitch I called my sister had been! She had gotten that letter too and disappeared to that nuthouse! She met that good-for-nothing scoundrel you call your father, there" Alice looked into her aunt's face and realised that she'd never seen her look so livid."And he was just like her, if not worse. They went and got married of course, freaks of a feather and all that. So yes, we knew that you would up being just like them, a DANGEROUS LUNATIC!" She spat.
Alice couldn't breathe. She barely noticed Hagrid blow up next to her in retaliation. Every sentence her aunt had thrown at her had hit her in her gut. After all this, she knew she hasn't even heard half of what she should know, but she was sure of one thing— She believed Hagrid. She was a witch. As impossible as it sounded, the fact was now cemented into her. And she realised in that moment, that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
A/N: PHEW! One hell of a chapter, huh? Gotta admit, I had been dreading writing this one. It's very hard to change something that is so perfect, y'know? And I apologise for not having posted in MONTHS. It's all this chapter's fault! :T
Guess what motivated me to start writing again, though?
The answer starts with Dylan and ends in O'Brien! ;)
I WILL post the next one within two days. If I'm late, just send a 'DYLAN IS IN DANGER!' message to me. :D
Review? Please? :3
xx