Loister, the Malfoy's house elf, had brought dinner on a silver platter to Alice's room. After eating, she decided to pour herself a bath, hoping the warm water would relieve some of her tension and ease her transition into sleep.
While running the water she heard a tapping noise coming from outside on the veranda. Peering through the glass, she saw a dusty brown owl drop a bundle of parchment on the veranda floor, only to jump up on the railing and fly away. After retrieving it, she noticed it was a letter attached to the evening edition of The Daily Prophet newspaper. On the outside of the letter was written, Miss Alice McNally.
"These owls really do find you anywhere," she thought, while breaking the envelope's wax seal.
Dear Alice McNally,
Your former commentary has sparked a great debate in the wizarding world. A second response would be a thrilling enterprise for us.
Sincerely yours,
Barnabus Cuffe
Editor, The Daily Prophet
"Curious," Alice pondered the letter for a moment longer before grabbing the crisp evening edition of The Daily Prophet.
On the front page was none other than Blaise Zabini, seconds of his press conference caught in a black and white photograph. "It's moving?" Alice almost dropped the paper in surprise. None of her other papers had moving photographs but then again, she never read them in the magical realm. A moment later she focused on the text.
In a statement today, Special Cases Unit head, Blaise Zabini, offered scant words of wisdom on the matter of the miscreant muggle, stating that the case is now being handled exclusively by the Special Cases Unit in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He assured the public that the Ministry has upheld the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy by eradicating all breached information. But what is puzzling is that the muggle known as Alice McNally has been taken into custody and charged. No comment has been made for why. Inside sources tell us that potions tests are being conducted to discern her true identity. Could she be a witch with contempt for her magical ancestry in disguise? Has the department failed again to do its job in protecting our informational security?
Alice's eyes continued to scan the sentence, Could she be a witch…in disguise? Her mind raced - Was that the potions tests they were performing? Did they assume she had magical ancestry? What were the implications if she did? But she couldn't do magic and certainly didn't use magic to write her book. Why do they think so little of muggle's mental ability? Only if she had never written that book…
Alice had lost herself in contemplation when suddenly she heard a splashing sound. "The bath!" she jumped up and raced over to turn off the faucet. The bathroom tile was suddenly covered by a puddle of warm water. The rug in front of the vanity, undoubtedly a well kept antique, had now become a soggy mess.
Finding some towels in a cupboard, which not surprisingly were embroidered with the letter "M," she attempted to clean up the deluge as best she could. She then hung the now wet towels and the soggy rug on the railing of her veranda, hoping the brisk air and calm breeze would dry them overnight. By the time she was finished cleaning everything, the water in the bath tub had grown lukewarm. "So much for a bath," she pined; pulling the plug and watching her relaxing soak go down the drain.
The newspaper which Alice had thrown on the floor prior to stopping the flood, had beckoned her back to its pages. She quickly realized that the wizarding world's media was exactly the same as her worlds. They could spin a story in any direction they wanted. Skipping to the comments page she was immediately aware of what the editor meant by "great debate." The page was dripping with negativity and name slinging. A few anonymous posters suggested that the wizarding world should dominate muggles instead of keeping the two worlds separate. Many others felt the laws were too lenient, and that if McNally was a witch, she should be put into Azkaban. There was one comment, by someone called Hermione Weasley, that agreed with McNally's former commentary, reiterating that ignorance only breeds hate and the less we understand muggles the more difficult it is to have an intelligent conversation about them. "At least not everyone's against me," she thought.
Alice retrieved her notebook and a pen from her bag. The comments had upset her enough that she felt an emotional urge to defend her position and she considered providing the editor exactly what he wanted. Opening the page and touching the pen to the paper, she stopped. Suddenly she remembered something her grandfather had told her when he visited her in a dream: "Sometimes it is better to listen than to speak Alice. Only by listening long enough will the words we do speak fully respond to the situation in question."
She put down her pen realizing there were still many things she didn't know about this world. She was naïve to think that her comment would do anything more than make things worse for her. She decided it was time to simply listen.
The morning had come but the room Alice was in was still dark due to the thick drapes that covered the windows. When she awoke she found a small silver tray with that morning's meal sitting out for her at the side table near the fireplace. She had not heard Loister, the Malfoy's house elf enter the room at all, which made her a little uneasy.
She opened the heavy curtains, letting a pool of light stream in from the outside. Squinting out, she noticed only one white towel hung off the banister. It was lightly blowing in the wind. "One? Where's the other, and the rug?" Her heart raced as she opened the veranda doors to look down to the ground below.
The breeze last night must have picked up, carrying the rug and another towel off the railing. They each landed on a perfectly manicured shrubbery.
"This has the potential to be extremely embarrassing," Alice thought, slightly panicked. Her balcony was on the second floor and the side of the wall nearby was draped in vines with a wooden lattice underneath. Before even considering the situation fully, she swung her leg off the side rail and began climbing down the wooden lattice structure; her feet and hands intertwined with the leafy foliage. Making it to the ground level she quickly grabbed the rug and swung it back up to the overheard balcony. "That's one," she thought a bit relieved when she heard it hit. She moved to grab the white cotton towel on the bush nearby when suddenly she heard low growling noise coming behind her.
Lucius Malfoy's Irish wolf hound was in an attack position several meters away, its white fangs visible and ominous eyes centered directly on Alice. Remaining as composed as she could, Alice slowly collected the towel with her outstretched hand and glided her feet towards the lattice, trying desperately not to make any sudden movements. She kept her eyes fixed on the angry dog which made it unsure of when to attack. As soon as she had one hand firmly secured on the lattice, she swung and jumped up onto it, noting that her hands and feet never moved so fast in her life. The dog raced towards her snapping, only to miss by an incredibly small margin. It continued to growl and bark furiously as it tried to jump up the wall towards Alice, who within seconds made it safely to the other side of the railing.
"Shhh!" Alice jeered at its racket, but it was not backing down and continued to yelp and growl up at her. Thinking it would give her mischief away, she ran inside the room to the breakfast tray which was brought in for her earlier. She grabbed one sausage link and flung it off the veranda. Watching the treat fly, the dog jumped in excitement and quickly gobbled it up. It began waging its tail as if having been rewarded for a job well done. It looked at Alice from down below, happily asking for more. "Alright," she couldn't help but laugh at how its behavior took a complete 180 degree turn. She took the final sausage link from her platter and flung it into its mouth.
Suddenly, a high pitched whistle came from the far garden, acting as a beckoning call for the dog to return to its master. Alice slowly backed into her room and stood behind the open door. She peered out through a slit in the curtains. She could see an imposing figure, dressed in all black with long blonde hair. She correctly guessed it was Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father.
The large hound returned obediently to the man's side while its owner stared suspiciously up at the second story guestroom balcony, disgusted at the thought of the muggle who occupied it. "What is she up to?" He wondered, having heard the dog's racket moments earlier. Instead of lingering he returned to his morning stroll, now followed by a surprisingly happy dog.
Alice sighed. She was incredibly relieved considering the direction the morning events could have taken. Looking at the dirt now soiling her clothes, hands and feet, she had no choice but to wash up before eating her already cold and partially gone breakfast. She had a feeling the day would be dull, stuck in the guestroom at Malfoy Manor, but after the morning's events she couldn't have welcomed it more.