Alexandra had it all planned out. Now she just had to hope that nothing went wrong.
She stepped cautiously through the corridor, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure that no one had followed her. She was on the third floor, and seeing as lessons had been let out hours ago, the corridors were deserted. Reaching into her robe pocket, she slowly extracted three dungbombs.
Come on, Alexandra thought desperately. Where are you?
"Well, well, well, wittle wee student wondering the halls have we?"
Alexandra looked up and saw Peeves hovering about three feet over her head, a large grin across his face.
"Just out for a stroll," Alexandra said. "It's not curfew yet. I'm not breaking any rules." And then, careful to make sure the poltergeist saw them, Alexandra shifted the dungbombs in her hand.
"Ohhhh! Up to mischief?" Peeves crackled. "Filch won't be liking that, he won't. Said the next dungbomb he has to deal with will be his snapping point. Would be a real shame if he caught you, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, please don't tell him," Alexandra begged. "I was only trying to have a bit of fun. Like you."
"Like me! She wants to be like me!" Peeves laughed. "But Peevesie never disrupts the castle like this. You're trying to taint Peevsie's name. Well, there's only one way to stop this." He took a deep breath and then screamed loudly. "STUDENT WITH DUNGBOMBS! STUDENT WITH DUNGBOMBS ON THE THIRD FLOOR, FITCH! COME QUICK! STUDENT WITH DUNGBOMBS!"
During his screaming, Alexandra let the dungbombs fall from her hands, setting off a rancid smell throughout the corridor.
She heard the footsteps of Filch race up the stairs, and sure enough, he terrifying face appeared a second later.
"Disrupting the peace of the castle!" he bellowed, his face growing more frightening as the smell hit his nose. "You think you can uproot the castle like this? You think I don't have enough to tend to without your hooliganism?"
"I'm-I'm sorry," Alexandra stammered. "But they slipped from my hand; it was an accident!"
"Deliberate disobedience!" Filch roared. "Come on, girl. We'll see what the Headmistress has to say about this."
Filch grabbed Alexandra forearm and began pulling her away. While he was busy muttering under his breath about how he wished torture was still allowed as a form of punishment at the school, Alexandra reached into her pocket again and pulled out a Detonator, which she had "borrowed" from Fred, and dropped it onto the ground.
When the two had reached the large, stone gargoyle that guarded the headmistress's office, Filch gave the password (Jelly Slug) and at once a staircase began to form as the gargoyle moved away.
"Let's go," Filch said roughly, pulling him and Alexandra up onto one of the moving stairs. When they reached the office door, Filch knocked three times.
"Come in," came Professor McGonagall's brisk voice.
"Professor," Filch said, opening the door as he released Alexandra's arm. "I caught this girl uprooting the third floor corridor."
"It was only a couple of dungbombs," Alexandra whispered.
"The hall is most likely going to be uninhabitable for several hours, and will create one damn ruckus, professor," Filch continued, ignoring Alexandra.
"Well, seeing as lessons are done for today and barely anybody will be commuting through that particular corridor, I doubt it will cause much of a disturbance, Mr. Filch," McGonagall said.
Filch looked slightly embarrassed and looked down at his moth-eaten shoes.
"However, it is still true, Ms. Dursley," she went on. "That Dungbombs are not permitted in this school. You knew that, I trust?"
"I dropped them on accident, Professor," Alexandra said.
"Yes, well, the fact is you still had them on you," McGonagall said.
"Yes, that she did!" Filch interjected, finding his voice once more. "Saw them with her myself! I'd think a suspension is in order!"
"That will hardly be necessary, Mr. Filch." McGonagall said, looking at him through her square spectacles. "I'd say one night's detention will be sufficient. Professor Flitwick has been telling me that he needs to get around to scrubbing his teacups without magic. Ms. Dursley, you will meet with him tomorrow and arrange a time for that."
"Yes, professor," she nodded.
"Alright then," McGonagall said curtly. "I suppose that-"
There was suddenly a loud crash from the floor above them. A moment later Neville barged into the office. "Professor, there's some sort of…disturbance going on up on the third floor. There's ink stains all over the suits of armor and they've somehow mobilized and are now fighting each other."
"What in the world?" McGonagall sputtered, jumping up. "Mr. Filch, come with us. Ms. Dursley, you stay put and don't leave this office."
Excellent, Alexandra thought happily to herself as the adults rushed out of the office. The plan worked perfectly.
She got out of her seat and slowly walked over to the large portrait with a plaque that read Severus Snape underneath it. The figure in the portrait was sleeping, his head tilted slightly to the left.
"Um, excuse me," she said timidly. The figure of Snape did not move.
"Hello?" she said a bit more loudly.
Snape's eyes opened. He looked down at Alexandra with a completely emotionless face.
"Er, sorry to wake you," Alexandra said. "But um, well, are you Severus Snape?"
Snape's eyes flickered down to the nameplate underneath the frame, but did not answer.
"Oh, well, yes of course you are, it does say it down there," Alexandra said, feeling rather stupid. "Um, my name is Alexandra."
Snape still said nothing.
"I'm very sorry to disturb you," Alexandra continued. "But well, I only had a few questions for you."
Still silence.
"I found your old potions book," Alexandra told him. "You're the Half-Blood Prince, aren't you?"
Snape's eyes glanced down at her face. "You must know I am," he said in an oily voice. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you?"
"James Potter told me, yes," Alexandra nodded. "He's the son of-"
"I know who is father is," Snape snapped.
"Oh, um, great then," Alexandra said. "Anyway, I found your potions book, like I told you, and well, there was something scribbled about the Athrimo potion in one of the pages. There was a lot of things in the margins of the book, actually. Spells, notes…you must've been quite gifted with potions."
Snape did not reply to this.
"I don't know if you know about Claridina Wretermoust, but she made a batch of Athrimo and tried to unleash it on a lot of people. I just…I just wanted to find out more about the potion. I've looked in all the books in the library, but nothing has helped. You're the only one who would know about it."
Snape stared at her for a moment with a strange expression on her face. "What is your surname?"
"Dursley," she said.
"You're related to Potter, aren't you?"
"Yes, my dad is his cousin," Alexandra nodded.
She could've sworn she saw Snape's face twinge for a brief second.
"So could you help me?" she asked after another brief period of silence.
"No."
Alexandra frowned. "No? But…you're the only one who knows anything about this potion!"
"I made enough mistakes when I was alive," he said. "I won't make the same ones during my death."
"Mistakes? What mistakes? All I want you to do is tell me a little about this potion!" Alexandra didn't even notice her voice rising. She felt her blood boiling. She hadn't counted on Snape being so unhelpful.
Just then the door opened again and McGonagall walked back in.
"I'll be sending a very strongly worded letter to Weasley about selling certain products to students," she said to herself. Alexandra quickly turned from the portrait.
"You may go now, Ms. Dursley, remember to meet with Professor Flitwick to arrange your detention."
Alexandra nodded and turned to leave the office. Before she left though, her eyes fell on another portrait with a nameplate that read Albus Dumbledore. The figure in the portrait was looking at her with a grave, curious look on her face. Alexandra frowned and hurried out.
The corridors were still deserted, thankfully. Alexandra wasn't much in a mood to talk to anybody right now. She had just reached the seventh floor, though, when she head a voice behind her.
"I could've helped you out, you know."
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Wretermoust.
"With finding out about the potion, I mean," he said, walking closer to her. "Mum's told me a fair bit about brewing it. Probably wouldn't be able to make it myself, yet, but she's told me the theory."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alexandra said, hurrying to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"The Traitor probably wasn't too much help, was he?" Wretermoust continued. "No, he wouldn't tell you a thing, I bet. He's too loyal to the other side."
Alexandra ignored him as she reached the Fat Lady.
"Just remember," Wretermoust said as she opened her mouth to give the password. "You know where to find me if you ever have anymore urging…questions."
"Feather Flight," she said, staring straight at the Fat Lady.
The portrait swung open and she hurried in, leaving her half-brother behind.