Disclaimer: As much as I wish it, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any and all of it's subsidiaries as owned by J.K Rowling, Warner Bros etc. All characters, and so far all places, belong to J.K Rowling. Only the ongoing plot of this story is mine, and I do not make, nor wish to make, any money from this story.
AN: 'Italics' = Ali's private thoughts.
The next morning dawned bright and warm and Ali awoke feeling slightly groggy, but rested nonetheless. Savouring the feeling of a comfortable bed beneath her, she lay there for a while before finding the motivation to start her day. Swinging her legs out of bed, she absently noted that her back was much better than yesterday with only the occasional twinge of discomfort. Recalling that she had a meeting with Ragnok at two in the afternoon, she checked the time, found it to be just after 11 and headed to the bathroom. She stopped short at the sight of the huge walk-in shower and supposed that that, coupled with the bed, made any money she had spent worth it. It was halfway through her shower, when she reached to wash her privates that the previous day's events fell upon her like a tonne of bricks. Her body heaving with sobs, she sunk to her knees and let the water rain down upon her back.
'Oh my god. I can't believe he did that. He stole my virginity from me, he stole the last thing I had of my childhood, my last bit of innocence. Urgh, I feel so dirty, I can still feel his hands on me, can…can still feel him in me. Merlin, who's going to want me now? Good for nothing, dirty, little freak. I must have deserved it, no one is capable of loving me, they all leave me, and it's my fault. Argh! I'm sorry! I don't mean to be such a freak, I don't mean to hurt people. I just want someone to love me, and now they never will. Now I'm used, and broken, and vile. I'm sorry! Argh! How dare he take that from me. That was mine. How dare he? I can't believe he took that from me. It wasn't supposed to be that way, it was supposed to be beautiful, loving. It wasn't supposed to be painful and violent. Merlin I hate him! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I should kill that fucking bastard! How dare he think he can break me. No way! That is not happening. I am not going to let that perverted fucker win! I am Alexandria Lilian Potter and damn it, I've killed a man, battled a basilisk, fought off a hundred dementors, competed in a tournament designed to bloody kill me, fought Voldemort and survived, battled Death Eaters, and been possessed by Voldie himself. If that's not a gross violation; I don't know what is. No. This will not be the thing that beats me. No fucking way!'
Eventually, and filled with a new sense of determination, Ali picked herself up off the floor and continued washing. Looking in the mirror, with bright green eyes that belied a hint of steel behind them, Ali brushed her long black hair. Giving up on getting it to behave, though it was better now it was long, the weight seemed to tame it slightly, she put it up in a pony-tail, and admired her reflection. Her eyes had always been her favourite feature, the only sign of her Mother that she could see in her face. A face that had always seemed a little too masculine to her, a little too much like her Father. And whilst she loved her Father, she was a young woman, and quite frankly wouldn't mind a bit of femininity in her features. And so it was today that she was startled to find her face looking a little different, her cheekbones seemed a bit higher and sharper, her lips were a deeper blood red, and slightly fuller too. Looking back on it, she realised that aside from yesterday where it was too dark to see properly, she had hardly looked in a mirror since her return to the Dursley's; too depressed over the loss of Sirius to care much for what she looked like. 'Well, isn't puberty a wonderful thing? About time I found out. Stupid bloody malnutrition and neglect. Honestly, if it weren't for those people I'd have found this out years ago! Oh well, can't change it now and at least it has finally happened anyway. Now time to get dressed. Fuck. I've nothing to wear. Really should have thought about that before I left.'
Sighing, she threw on the dressing gown provided and went to order room service. Half an hour later with a large bowl of porridge and a platter of various fruits in front of her, she ate ravenously. Once she'd finished the cup of coffee that accompanied her rather late breakfast she got dressed in yesterday's clothes, grimacing in disgust at the dried blood stains on her shirt. She then left the hotel in search of a clothes shop. Finding a Debenhams she went in and found 3 skirts that reached below her knee, a green, black and navy blue one. They'd look rather old on her in the Muggle world, but they'd work for the Wizarding one. She then went in pursuit of some shorts and dresses that she could wear in the Muggle world without looking like a teenager trying to be an adult. Finding them, she proceeded to get a selection of tops and blouses, and finally some underwear. Catching herself before she went to pay, she made her way to the shoe department and bought some black flats. On her way back to the hotel she popped into a make-up shop and bought some foundation and bobby-pins, reasoning that if she covered her scar and pinned her fringe back it might make her less noticeable in Diagon Alley, given her fringe covering her scar was apparently such a trademark of hers that it warranted an entire article by Rita Skeeter during her Fourth Year. 'I mean honestly, how ridiculous '"Miss Potter, pictured with her trademark fringe covering the sign we all want to see. The sign of her victory over You-Know-Who! The people want to know! Why does she insist on covering the evidence of her triumph!"' Evidence of triumph my arse! How about reminder of the night my parents were brutally murdered? Stupid cow!' Lost in thought as she was, Ali made it back to the hotel in what seemed like no time at all. She had another shower, selected the green skirt with a cream coloured blouse and matching cardigan, double checked that the welts on her back weren't visible through her clothes, and her scar was sufficiently hidden, then left once again for Gringotts.