Hermione Jane Granger had always been a composed person.
She did not gasp. She did not wince. She was never caught by surprise.
She was flawless, she had learned, to be flawless, ready for everything, for the worst.
Because mistakes weren't allowed, forgiven, not when they could cost the life of your loved ones, something she could not allow, afford, bear, no, she could not afford to be found unprepared, defenseless, at a disadvantage, she could not, because she was in a war, and Death Eaters did not care about her young age, her adolescent features or the childish flush of her cheeks, what mattered to them was her blood, her filthy blood that made her unworthy to use magic, to be alive, so when she felt the soft touch on her shoulder she should not have been so startled, she should not have gasped or winced as she did, she should have been ready to react appropriately, to act calm.
To be still.
She should have, but she could not prevent her instinct to get the better of her logic mind, stiffening the muscles of her back while turning around with a fierce light in her eyes, the tip of the wand hidden in her pocket pressed painfully in the side of the young, smiling woman who had just approached her and that now was staring back at her with a raised eyebrow, the irises hidden behind the odd aviator glasses she wore enlightened by an amused glint that made her look like crafty, lazy cat.
- And a good morning to you too, love.
Even before Hermione could let the horror scratch her eyes and make her lips tremble, warm, thin arms had already hugged her form tightly, washing away from her face the trail of a dismay that was going to break her self-control, a hug she returned with a small smile for the childish habit that her muggle friend and neighbor had always had since childhood, a familiar act that brought to her eyes shiny tears the young witch tried hard to swallow along with her struggle.
Too shaken to act properly, normally, she let the girl pull her by the elbow on the comfortable chair of the little cafeteria where she was waiting for her, still too unstable to be able to do something else apart from following the young teenager's swift move.
And it was only when she took her seat on the opposite side of the table that Hermione allowed herself to look up again and finally, to speak.
- You dyed your hair again.
A light chuckle left the pink, full lips that Alexis Mary Jones turned into a sly smile when she heard the couple to the next table gasp as they saw her long and sleek pink hair turning into electric blue locks that the young girl brushed with her nails before placing her sharp chin in her palms, smiling prettily to her best friend.
- Blue had always been your favorite color, right, Mia?
- What ar-
- Nanomachines. Do you like it? I can turn my hair purple if you want.
Hermione blinked a couple of time before returning her gaze to Alexis's expectant expression, almost as she was waiting for some kind of praise from her for her display of unbievable skills, just as when they were little, something the smart girl did not usually seek from others.
And things to praise there were many, it was just that Alexis did not care about what others thought of her except who she believed to be worthy of her affection and her time, a statement that could mislead people on thinking that, maybe, she was a little too cheeky and arrogant for her own good, but Alexis was much more than what people could ever imagine.
Her friend was indeed cheeky and arrogant, sometimes childish, sometimes wise, sometimes so mean to be almost cruel, inhman, but she was also very kind, loving and fiercely protective with the people she cared for, a fondness that left Alexis's face as she pursed her mouth into a thin line when the waiter she had not called noticed them, focusing his attention on Hermione before looking up at her and stiffening, reading in her raised eyebrow an invitation to advance with what he probably thought was a handsome smile, an intrusive attention for which Hermione stiffened a little in her seat, her eyes once again on the shaky hands she tightened to recompose herself and act more as she should have, as Alexis knew her, composed, invincible.
Perfect.
But a honest smile really tug the corner of the young witch's mouth when she heard the usual playful voice of her muggle friend get annoyed and low, a biting hiss between clenched teeth that made the poor waiter pale and Hermione smile more sincerily this time.
- Did I call you, pal?
How could such a common nickname sound so offensive on those pretty lips was something the waiter failed to understand and accept, but if her words had made him took a hesitant step back, the cold and odd eyes she focused on him when she brought her aviator glasses on her blue head made the waiter swallow words Alexis did not give him the time to utter when she 'shooshed him with an annoyed move of hands.
- You are foolish as well as rude to interrupt me when I try to teach you some manner, but I will let it slide, as I will let slide your pathetic approach towards a minor who is obviously before your reach – and this time her already mordant voice seemed to drip poison before recovering her bored tone once again - so you go back to whatever you were doing and did not interrupt me and my best friend while we bond, Am I clear?
- Crystalline – was the dry answer the waiter gave her with a tight smile, giving them his back before
retreating into the kitchen where he would have spat in her drink.
'A crazy bitch escaped his lips as he reached the front door, but it was with horror that he heard the crazy bitch shout at him "the worst you could ever meet"as answer to what Alexis shouldn't have heard, not from so far, not without magic, but when Hermione notice the pretty, metallic earrings on her friend's ears, although Alexis hated earrings with a passion, all she could do was smiling with pride and a little of amazement.
- Your new invention?
The harshness that had made her soft features look sharper and darker left Alexis's face at once, her eyes softer and her voice warmer as she reached for the tip of her ears, brushing the cold metal with her short black nails.
- Do you like it? You would be able to hear even if you were deaf since birth.
- They are pretty, very feminine.
- Are they? – mused Alexis with a distant voice, smiling a little when she met the pretty hazel eyes of her friend – I am happy you like it. I was not sure if they were suitable for a child.
Hermione welcomed the honest confession of her friend with a frown, her hands now more steady on her lap.
- I didn't know the Cern had found prodigy children beside you.
- They did not – Alexis answered without even blinking, placing her chin on her palm with a relaxed smile – I met a kind kid in the hospital the other week-
- Hospital? – Hermione interrupted her with an alarmed gaze, reaching the hand Alexis had left on the table while the young witch's worried eyes scanned the soft features of her face in search of scratch or cut.
Because, since childhood, since the quiet kid who lived next door had promised her to become her best friend even when death do them apart, Hermione had always been worried and concerned about Alexis, or, to be more specific, about her rashness and recklessness, not that Alexis was foolish or clumsy, actually, it was quite the opposite, because if Harry thought of her as the brightest witch of their times, then her friend was the smarter muggle you could ever meet in your lifetime, and she was not exaggerating or being kind just because she was her best friend.
Alexis was a genius, a prodigy child, and it was not an idiom or an alternative way to say that she was very acculturated, she was a genius, her IQ made her one, the international qualifications she had gained at such a young age made her one, the fact that she was just eighteen years old and the youngest and brightest scientist of robotics and nanotechnology in Europe made her one.
Therefore, as every self-respecting scientist Alexis had done experiments, she had invented and discovered things, the worrying fact was that she had always had the bad habit to do experiment even on herself since she was a child to test her theory, and the proof of how reckless she had been could be found in the color of her left eye.
Alexis had inherited the pretty green eyes of her mother, but if you looked closely at Alexis's irises, you could notice that the left one wasn't really green, but of a darker shade, a warm cholocate that made people marvel if she was born with heterochromatic eyes, a rare case that made people stare a little too much and for too long, but that one wasn't a case that had occurred, but something that Alexis had created.
Alexis had always had the same, pretty green eyes for all her life, or at least, until she had decided to make her left eye took the same color of her best friend's iris, so to be one of her eyes and look out for her in the future as she had read in one of her books, but when Hermione had heard Alexis's kind but silly idea she had thought of it as a joke, a bad one, she had not expected something like that, but that little act had shown her that Alexis was indeed full of skills, but even that she lacked common sense and boundary.
She had always done what she wanted to do because, since she could do it, she would have done it as Alexis had said many times to explain herself and her rash actions.
She had changed the color of her left eye at eleven years old with the chemicals recipe and some tools she had found at her prestigious European school to have with her something of her only friend.
She had used her clever mind to create an algorithm to win the lottery, giving to their old neighbor a million dollars because she always brought them chocolate cookies, and she loved chocolate.
She was studying at the Cern as a researcher, fabricating high robotics prosthesis to give to soldiers who had been wounded in war.
Alexis was a genius, someone who could really change the world and make it better, fairer.
She was someone Hermione had wanted to protect and to emulate for all her life, someone too precious to be lost, someone who had to be protected, and she would have protected her friend, her first, friend, from the horror of her world, from who would have hurt her to hurt her, that one was the reason why, when Alexis asked her about school, Hermione said nothing.
Nothing about the incoming war.
Nothing about her role as Harry Potter's best friend and shield.
She said nothing.
To protect her. To protect her family.
To shield her from a wicked world it was her duty to save, to face as a magical being.
As a witch.
- Don't fret Mia, I am fine, just a little scratch.
Shaking her head to free her mind from her dark thoughts and worry, Hermione looked at the light scar on her wrist while Alexis soft palm patted her hand in a reassuring way.
- So those earrings are for her?
- Yes, the poor thing was deaf since birth, she was visiting her sick mom.
- So? – asked Hermione, confused about how those facts could lead Alexis to give away such a fine and probably expensive piece of robotic to a girl she had just met.
- So she gave me a candy as an apology when we collided in the corridor.
- And?
- I like candies.
Trying to understand Alexis's strange way of thinking was a difficult task she had never stopped trying, even if it was quite difficult to label Alexis, to follow her unique way of thinking, of acting, to follow the trail of her thoughts.
She could be so childish sometimes to look almost naive, but if there was something Alexis wasn't, then, it was being naive, because Alexis could become mean when she wanted to, almost cruel and sometimes, even merciless.
Her emotions were raw, dry, just like the ones of a little child.
She acted on instinct, she could be quite reckless, stubborn as well as wise and understanding.
She had no shades, no middle ways, for her there was only black and white, but despite all that, Hermione loved her fondly for loving her so much to be able to soften her edgy character, just as soft were the eyes the girl sharpened a little when she noticed a cut on Hermione's temple she did not remember.
- But I don't think you called me back in England just because you want to see my new haircut, right Mia? - she asked nonchalantly, leaning lazily on the chair, her hand still closed around hers, her lips lightly bend into a pensive line - Is everything ok? Trouble at school? Can I be of any help?
Easy.
Hermione kept on repeating the word to the throbbing of her heart, a small smile to conceal the worry that was eating her inside, because Alexis's senses were sharp, her eyes attentive, her mind too clever not to notice her discomfort, but what worried her the most was Alexis's fierce protective instinct towards her.
Because Alexis could be the sweetest person she knew, but she could become scary, wicked, obsessive and savage with who she did not like, with who bullied her or dared to threaten her family, especially her friends, and if she had known about the incoming war, about her role as the best friend of the boy who lived, then, she would have jumped in right away in her defence, and she could not allow something like that.
Alexis was a muggle. She was her friend. Her family.
She had to be kept out of it. Of the war. Of her problem.
It was her responsibility, not hers, she was the witch, she was the reason why Death eater wanted her and her family dead, and she could not bear it, to lose her.
She had to do what she had to do, even if it meant to betray her friend's trust, but it would not have mattered, because soon Alexis would not have known to have a magical friend as a neighbor.
So she faked a serenity she didn't feel, she tried to be strong, to be brave, just to protect her.
To keep her safe.
To keep her alive.
- I wanted to see you, is it wrong?
Leveraging on Alexis's absolute trust and unconditional love for her was unfair, maybe even cruel, but if a little lie could save her from the horror of the war, then she didn't mind to be unfair.
To be cruel, for once.
The grip on her hand softened, and when Alexis called back the waiter to order two chocolate after making him drink them first to test him, Hermione decided to memorize every single moment, to store every single smile in her heart, so to use it for the darkest day of her life, when she would have returned to Howgarts for her sixth year.
They spend almost two hours talking about their childhood memories, about themselves, their hope, their plan for the future, and only when Alexis's back was turned to her the young witch allowed her lips to tremble and her eyes to water, wielding her wand with a trembling hand as Alexis stopped on the opposite side of the road, waiting for the traffic light to turn green.
No one noticed the flash of light on that sunny days, the only thing out the ordinary was the crying teenager on the sidewalk who had just run away with pain clear in her broken eyes but the hope to have saved her friend from a cruel destiny, however, when the taxi stopped in front of Alexis, the young woman did not get in the car.
She stood stone cold on the hard ground, her back stiff, her limbs lifeless, but if her body did not betray the turmoil of feelings that made her lips twist and her gaze harden, there was the growing snarl in her throat to warn the world and the startled bus driver who had just tried to approach her that it was better not to mess with her at the moment.
And she kept on snarling through all her journey.
She growled at the Stewart when he asked her if she wanted water on her plane.
She kept on growling and hissing between clenched teeth while waiting for the car that would have brought her back to the CERN, where Hermione thought she was studying, but there were many things her best friend didn't know about her.
About her research. Her knowledge of magic.
Because Hermione had cast a spell on her, a spell she knew, she could recognize, because what her friend didn't know was that she wasn't studying only robotics or nanotechnology, she had not been experimenting only on them, but even on magical artefacts, magical being, a secret many did not want to give away for obvious reason.
How could she tell her magical best friend that the reason why the muggle world and especially Europe had not taken actions or measure against them was that they had already them, that they had her to thought about it?
Humans, muggles as the wizard called them, weren't a pacifist race.
They were not wise, they were not understanding, they were coward, merciless, and they did not like to make the same mistake twice, to underestimate something that could become dangerous for them, and a crazy dark wizard who talked about the purity of his kind and the need to clean the word from the presence of the unworthy ones was something they had already seen, something they had already faced, something they could not allow to deal with again.
- Welcome to the Glass Palace.
Alexis ignored the smiling, pretty hostess at the entry when she reached the door of the tall building she had just entered, her eyes still hard, her lips still twisted, while her feet led her towards the hall, reaching the elegant elevator where another pretty hostess greeted her with her plastic smile, asking her if she needed help, but when she lifted her head she could see her smile broke a little when she recognized her.
- Welcome back Miss Jones. How did your free day go?
- We both know you don't really want to know about my day, Sasha, so spare me the small talks and let me pass. I have things to do unlike you.
The blond, beautiful woman tightened the smile to the harsh tone of the young lady who stared at her with her eyes devoid of any emotion, a flush of shame to color prettily her cheeks while Alexis clicked her tongue to vent her annoyance, something for which she saw the hostess step back a little, as if she feared her reaction and moves, as she feared her, a eighteen years old with a scowl.
Nothing out of ordinary, nothing to be scared of, but despite her young age and the obvious power and influence that the people of that shiny building possesssed, everyone in that elegant palace, from the higher stand to the lower one feared her.
What she could do if bothered, if annoyed.
And the fact that, at the moment, she was both, wasn't a good thing, for no one.
A thin smile break the line of her lips when she saw the woman's fingers tremble a little when she reached the shiny buttons of the elevator as she entered it, but instead of one of them, the woman touched softly the panel beneath before a registered voice warned Alexis to cling to the bar to prevent to fall as she leaned with her back on the wall.
But she did nothing of that, she kept on smiling sharply at the woman she saw swallow slowly before the doors closed in front of her eyes and, instead of going up, the elevator began to go down where there should not have been anything except the hard ground.
However, when the door hissed in front of her annoyed look what she found was not ground, but a counter, a pretty woman with red cheeks who smelled of cinnamon behind it, and a red door behind her back.
- Welcome back amore! How was your free day? – the woman greeted her, happy, apparently, of seeing her.
Well, she was the only one who was ever happy to see her.
- Like shit, but thanks for asking.
- I am sorry, amore. Can I be of any help?
Alexis smiled gently at the concerned woman as she felt the soft touch of the laser scan her body in search of something dangerous, of something wrong, out of place, chosing to change the topic to save Miranda from her bad mood since she did not deserve it.
- How is your mom, Miranda?
- She is well amore, she is well. Grazie – answered warmly the scented lady, thanking her for the concern, something few people were able to obtain from her in that place.
Truly, the previous receptionists had cowered in fright everytime they had met her eyes or irked her, but Miranda had learned how to win her favor, to be on her good side.
Everyone had a weakness, after all, and hers, as childish as it could seem, were sweets.
Candy.
Chocolate.
It did not matter what it was as long as they were sweet, and if they were handmade, then, she would have been the happier young woman on the earth, and people wanted her to be happy.
Because, it was when she was not happy that bad things happened, that people get hurt or began to disappear, because she was not a nice person as her best friend believed, but again, there were many things Hermione did not know about her life, about what she was doing, where she was studying,
Not that she would have told her anyway.
Her world wasn't suitable for a kind person like Hermione.
Her friend had a brave heart, a soft spirit, a gentle soul too frail to be able to take the cruel truth, that rotten world, while Alexis, Alexis could easily take the blow without breaking, without even batting an eyelid.
Because if the world could be a bitch sometimes, she could be a bitch most of the time.
She was someone you don't want to antagonize, someone you preferred to hold off, to keep on your side, even if doing it would have meant compromising with a teenager who was careless of what hardship people had to go through to satisfy her whim and tantrum, even if it meant to hire a famous Italian pastry as Miranda as the secretary of the NIF, even if for most people NIF rang no bell, but it was obvious, normal.
After all, a secret organization could not be secret if people knew about it, a secret that, however, for Alexis had ceased to be one when she had been called to an interview from a "prestigious European school" when she was eleven years old, knowing, however, who they were since the beginning.
What they wanted from her.
She had feigned ignorance at first, just to make them believe that she was interested in a secret society formed in the dark age with the only purpouse to find gifted being to keep the balance between magical people and muggle, and who better than her was gifted?
Valuable?
But then, just when her parents had excused themselves to get the car Alexis had thrown away her mask and she had done what she had wanted to do from the beginning.
Moke them, wasting no time to criticize their sloppy security system, comparing the secret organization's name with the sound of a strange sneeze.
She had proposed them a cooler name, but when the well-mannered man with the whiter mustache she had ever seen had requested silence with a single move of one of his elegant hand from his affronted colleagues, he had piqued her interest.
So she had stopped to complain, to be unsuffarable, even if she was still appaled for their secureness in her joining them just like that.
Because, seriously, how could they think she was interested in a group of people who could not even protect themselves and their data from an eleven years old?
Save the world? Keep the balance?
Not her thing.
She wasn't interested. The world could go to ruin and fallen to ashes for what she cared.
She would have contribued even to burn it herself if, in doing so, she would have protected her family, and she could do that on her own, thank you very much.
But then, the white man had opened his mouth, and Alexis had stopped thinking, had stopped feeling, becoming once again what she had been called as a child.
A robot-girl.
That one had been her nickname in her kindergarden, the opinion of her teacher, the view of who had met her eyes and found nothing.
Alexis knew how difficult she had always been, even as a kid.
Childern, adult, even her teachers were scared of her, of her hard and focused gaze, her expressionless face, her flat voice.
They had compared her to a robot many times.
Expressionless, heartless, soulless.
A smart child, of course, but a child unable to smile, to show interest in something, to feel anything apart from nothingness.
Too smart. Too quiet.
Men were unable to accept what was different from them, and a child who thought and talked like an adult, who could solve problems not even the smartest dude on earth could solve, who asked questions of which no one knew the answers was disturbing.
Abnormal.
Her mother had cried every night for her, for the way people looked at her, for the way people talked about her, and she, even if mortified for that, had not felt sorry for herself.
She was fine alone.
She was smart, after all. No one had to explain things to herself, actually, it was the other way around, and people hated that about her.
No one liked a know-it-all, after all, but suddenly, someone had decided to talk with her, and, for the first time in her life, Alexis had known that happiness wasn't only a chemical reaction in her brain.
Hermione Jane Granger was a pretty, smart child.
She liked to read, a lot, just like her, and when the kid had presented herself in front of her door with the shy request to help her with something Hermione did not understand, then, Alexis had felt surprised.
No one wanted her help, after all, no one wanted to hear her flat voice at all, but when she had explained what the child had wanted to know in her bored tone, instead of a snarl, she had received a smile of gratitude, and more questions.
Her first friend.
Hermione Jane Granger had become her first friend, her first bond, someone who had decided to go beyond her hard gaze and cold manners, who had seen something good in her, even if she knew that she wasn't good in any way, just really smart, something others had begun to take as something useful.
Valuable.
Growing up, in fact, people had wanted to have her as a student, as someone to show off, to bang in the face of another prestigious school all the time, but Alexis had always been a loner.
She was too smart even for the smarter course of the smarter school.
She got bored easily, she got irked quickly, and bad things happened when people took on her their anger and frustration just because they were as ignorant and stupid as a goat while she, she was always a step closer, always the best.
It was not her fault if Einstein could be described as dumb child in comparison to her, but hey, even she had gone through some shit.
It was not easy to be the smarter kid, because if you were a nerd, even if the most intelligent nerd, you remained a nerd, and as such, even Alexis had been bullied. Discriminated.
Emarginate.
She had been on her own most of her life, she had chosen not to settle for something less than what she had found with Hermione.
Trust. Loyalty. Unconditional love.
So she had studied at home with her mother, she had ignored the world that was not ready to accept and welcome someone like her, just as she had wanted to ignore NIF, but then, he had to say that, and Alexis had agreed to what he was asking without blinking a second time.
Because Hermione's well being had always been one of her priority.
Therefore, how could she deny the chance to become Hermione's shield against humanity's madness?
She could not, not when she had a magical friend people would have burned to a stick for a sick, passive-aggressive wizard who had gone batshit because he had been bullied and not loved as a child, poor thing, a state that most of the people cured with an analyst and a soy-based diet without turning into a murderer who aimed at a genocide, so Alexis had been ready to accept anything to protect her.
If only Hermione let her help her as she wanted, growled her mind when she thought again to the way her friend had tried to oblivate her, even if she had been almost cute with her clumsy attempt to lie to her, but it annoyed her to no end that Hermione did not want her help, that she did not ask for it.
Because even if she was cheeky, even if she was arrogant and moody, Alexis could respect authority, if she respected the one who had to be respected, and she respected Arthur, or, how people knew him and how he had presented himself when they had shaken hands, Arthur Pendragon.
Yes. That Arthur.
King, Arthur, a title for which she had raised an eyebrow and whistled, because no, she had not expected it.
Okay, so NFI's founder was indeed the infamous King Arthur, but despite the legend, he wasn't a golden boy, but a kind, gentle old man, just as Morgana had not been a bitch, but a kind witch who had loved her baby brother very much and maybe in a wrong way and Merlin had not been the bearded wizard with the ridiculous hat, first, he had not been even a he, but a she, but you knew, writer had always been a pack of misogynists fools, and they could not accept a woman who had balls even in the dark ages.
So she had stuck to the only rule Arthur had given her before entering NIF, the oath she had had to taken as one of his knight.
Help only if they asked for help, and since Hermione had not asked for it, Alexis could only get angrier and darker with the passing of time, even if the chocolate bar Miranda had just given her lessened the murderous light in her gaze, just a little.
- Have a nice day amore.
Alexis waved warmly at the kind lady as she turned the knob while the familiar hissing of the machine covered the crumbling of the chocolate she kept on chewing between her teeth, ignoring the women and men dressed in black who, once recognized her, were smart enough to change direction and not try to cross her path, especially when she was so upset and annoyed to stomp her feet as a little child, an annoyance for which the man behind the elegant wood desk raised a white eyebrow, setting aside the fold of sheets as Alexis collapsed heavily on the comfy armchair in front of him, a pout to make her look more childish than she actually was.
- I presume that your meeting with your friend had not gone well.
- No shit Sherlock.
- Language.
Alexis pursued her lips at the scolding tone of the man in front of her, the one who called her like that, the one who could talk with her like that, but she knew that Arthur was only trying to curb her anger and annoyance, to be the wise leader who needed to put back in line his undisciplined pupil.
- She lied to me – she whined as a little child, crossing her arms over her chest, her hair now a scarlet red that looked as bloodstains against her pale skin – she casted a memory spell on me.
- She wants to protect you, my child. As I told you before, things in the magical world arent' going well. Darkness is upon us – Arthur stated in his mystical way, raising his other eyebrow when Alexis grunted at him.
- Protect me? – she in fact spat with sarcasm, pointing her own fingers towards herself – I don't need protection. People need to protect themselves from me, not the other way around.
- I have no doubt about it – he concessed her, chuckling a little to show his amusement - You are hard to handle even for me. And I have faced many hard trial in my long life.
- You are damn right old man!
- Alexis.
- Do you prefer when I call you dad long leg?
A small smile touched Arthur Pendragon's lips when Alexis's mocking tone reminded him of his older sister Morgana, in fact, since the day he had met the young, hot-blooded child in front of him Arthur had often compared her with his older sister.
They were both gifted with power, intellect and a charisma that made people follow them instinctively and blindly, but just as Morgana, Alexis was too focused on keeping safe who she loved in her own contorted way to think about something else.
They were both too stubborn to listen to him, to let him take care of them, of his own safety, of his own problems.
They were bossy and wild, but Arthur knew how much love they could feel, the sacrifice they were willing to do for who they loved, how far they would have gone for who they cherished, but unlike Morgana, Alexis was still a child, she was still too young to sacrifice her own happiness.
To face such a danger alone.
- If you want, I can arrange a meeting with the council – he proposed her with a heavy sigh, smiling when he noticed the triumph in her expression – but you know how we work, Alexis – he added then with a severe tone – you know how complicated it is for me to decide when to intervene or not, the balance I have to keep.
- You and your balance are going to make me nuts someday, King – Alexis grumbled irritably, crossing her arms behind her head while a lazy look took place on her face – You are the King. You are the one who decided what to do, in the end. So why don't you let me do something?
- You know that we can't intervene, Alexis, the Ministry is already trying to…
- To put their fingers in their own eyes as a dumb child! This is what those fools are doing! Come on Arthur! I can't simply stay here while people are acting dumb and allowing the "dark one" – and she quoted the nickname with her fingers and a sarcastic gaze – to kill children. If you give me the chance I can easily track him down and kill the crazy bat.
- Alexis…
- But what about my balance King, hm? – she retorted with a raised eyebrow– I knew a couple of people in this place that would not have been happy to find me…well…unbalanced.
- Are you threatening me? – the man asked without even blinking or showing disbelief, raising instead his other eyebrow when he saw the young woman smiling at him like that.
Like when she knew to have you in her clutch.
- Threatening? Me? Never – she scoffed with a grunt, smiling charmingly to the way Artur had just frowned at her when he realized that her mind had already taken a dangerous turn – I was simpling stating a fact, my King. Actually, I have a proposal for you.
- A proposal?
- Yes, a proposal.
- Yours are never proposals, Alexis - he stated with a flat tone, making the child in front of him smiling more wickedly - Yours are always decisions already taken that you disguise as proposals to make other believe to have some kind of control over you.
A satisfied smile bloomed in her face for the way he had exposed her real purpose so quickly, but he knew her for quite some time now, he, just like Hermione, was always trying to understand her, to give a sense to her action, to justify her even when there was nothing to justify in her madness.
- So? – Arthur invited her to finish her sentence with a light sign of tiredenss in his voice – what is this proposal?
The desk welcomed her elbows when Alexis reached the man who let her grab his hand quietly, a heavy sigh to leave his lips as he recognized the dark glittering in her impatient gaze.
- What do you think about a student exchange program?
- Give me one good reason why I should not kill the old fart on the spot and save us the trouble.
Arthur Pendragon did not flinch or show some kind of concern for the childish whine that the young woman lazily lying down on the chair next to his had grumbled under breath while he, with one hand, answered to the greeting of the American President and the Scandinavian Minister of Magic.
- Because I am asking you not to do it, Alexis.
Blinking, the young girl seemed to consider his request as something she could do for real before rolling her eyes and giving up, grumbling under her breath unrepeatable words Arthur did not dare to replay in his mind, not if he wanted to keep the polite smile on his lips.
- You are lucky that I like you enough to listen to you, King.
Smiling a little for the way Alexis had just given up for him her attempt of a surely savage murder, Arthur patted gently her head to show his appreciation, squeezing her shoulder as he stood up to greet the man his pupil wanted to kill on the spot.
- It's been a long time, Dumbledore.
Alexis's chest vibrated hard under the laught that reached her eyes when she noticed the way Arthur had deliberately greeted the old man, with his back completely turned to her, so to conceal her form, preventing her to stick the thin cane she was biting beetween her teeth in the old wizard's throat, watching him gasping for air while she enjoyed the show on her chair, they had to have popcorn around here she reasoned with herself, chuckling a little for the way Arthur had hit her knee, as sensing the dangerous trail of her thought.
Really, it was astonishing how well he knew her.
Few people were able to read her like that, to foresee her moves, to walk with her instead of running after her shadow, but her King was a clever man, he knew her too well not to expect her irritation and annoyance since she hated that place.
Those people.
Because, despite the white walls and marble floor, she could see through the purple lenses of her glasses the blood that soiled the room.
And, if she wasnt' too bored to focus on them, she could even see it on the gloved hands that people were shaking with a polite smile behind which she knew they were gnashing their teeth.
Liar.
Murderer.
Coward.
That room was filled with humanity's worst offsprings despite the tailored dress and expensive porfumes and shoes.
She had already been there a few time, but only because she did not feel at easy knowing that Arthur was on his own with those people.
Not that she feared for his safety, they would have already found lying dead on the floor if she had suspected some foolish attempt to her King's life and Merlin would have surely created some kind of storm to scare them off.
Truly, NIF did not usually take part in that meetings, not if they thought that Muggle's democracy and Magic Ministries could manage alone their problem, not if the balance Arthur Pendragon was keeping from the old age was threatened by someone or something.
Their presence there was, in fact, the result of her nagging.
She had asked him to take part in the meeting, she was the reason why her King was smiling so politely to the wizard she had read about, a man she did not respect as others in that room.
She had read his file.
Every magical being had a file in her personal archive, and she could still not understand how could such a man be so respected, so high in place and society despite what he had done.
He was a murder.
He was a liar.
He was the kind of man she liked to hear screaming in agony before tearing his heart from his chest, squishing it under the sole of her foot.
- I appreciate your cooperation, Dumbledore.
The thin can between her teeth folded itself under the pressure of her incisives when she felt her jaw tightening for the gaze she could feel upon her head, for the eyes she met with her own when Arthur finally let her see the fool who had Mia's safety in his hand for years.
- It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Jones.
- Of course you are pleased to meet me, old man. I am marvelous.
Arthur Pendragon let a light chuckle escaping his lips when he heard the pompous way Alexis was talking to the wizard to his side, his eyes focused on the way her legs began to swing on the arm of the chair, a sign that she was pondering something dangerous, because it was when she looked so harmless that bad things happened.
- I had been already informed of your lack of modesty from the Scandinavian Minister of Magic.
- Old Algot is badmouthing me? What a surprise – and she deliberately raised her voice to attract the grey eyes she met with her own, smiling sharply to the man who had just begun to cough almost irregularly before looking back at the wizard with a grin - Ignorant people tend to fear what they could not understand, old fart.
- Alexis.
- What? – she complained – he is old and he obviously farters too, right, old fart?
- You are a strange child – the wizard conceded her with a raised eyebrow before noticing something dangerous flashing in her eyes, eyes he had already met a long time ago, when, in his foolish attempt to redeem himself and cleaning his cosciense, he had decided to save from the misery a young, promising boy .
The burning eyes of who had the power to bring the world to his knees without feeling a drop of pity in doing it.
- Strange, cruel, you can call me the way you want – Alexis listed with a bored tone, the cheek cupped in her hand pulled by a smile that did not reach her eyes – But I can still look myself in the mirror and see something, while I doubt that someone like you had something to look at.
- Someone like me? - the old wizard inquired curiously.
Arthur could feel it echoing in his mind, Alexis's dark laugh, even if the young girl wasn't really laughing, even if nothing in her face moved.
- Forgetful aren't we, old fart? Well, lucky for you I am a kind girl who rarely forgets what I read. Let me refresh your mind.
When Alexis crossed her leg, she did not want to be seductive, she just wanted to point out what people seemed to forget, what made the man in front of her the worst candidate for the role of Mia's protector.
- You are a man who killed his baby sister in a foolish family squarrel. The wizard who had an affair with a mad man with whom you shared the same horrific desidere to kill off every muggle that dared to cross your path. And, last but not less important, you are a coward who is letting small children taking care of what is obviously your fault and your weight to bear. That is what you are, what I see, so you will understand why I will not shake your hand and say "nice to meet you", because it is not a pleasure to meet you. At all.
Many would have shaken in anger for that words, and even if Alexis noticed the light trembling of the wizard's now pale knucles, she was not happy to see that the old fart was studer than she had expected,, but well, he will crumble just like the others, she needed only more time to make it happen.
And when she saw the talking hat appearing magically in the wrinkled hand of the wizard who had recovered his cool, she knew that she would have had all the time of the world to break him while a laugh escaped her and everyone in the room threw a bewildered look for the screaming hat Alexis took away from her head with an amused smile and the awareness that yes, she was terrific in green.
An old, popular dictum said that when the Devil fondled you, he wanted your soul.
However, even if that same popular dictum did not specify what kind of appearance the Devil could have taken when trying to steal your soul and bringing you in Hell with him, General Schmidt could state with certainty that, if the Devil had chosen to come to earth and to show himself to humanity, then, he would have taken the form of the young woman who was waiting for him to hand her the authorization to leave NIF's ground and to do what she did best.
Wreaking avoc and giving him a headache.
- So? Aren't you sad about me leaving, Schmidtty?
If he could have grunted, then, he would have done it, and quite loudly, but General Schmidt, high chancellor of NIF, did not grunt, or growl, or show some kind of emotion in his expression made of steel, he simply stared at the world and at the people who dared to meet his eyes of smoke with coldness. Hardness.
Equability.
He was a soldier, after all, he had been in a war.
His soul was as hardned as smoking steel and his heart was as hard as stone, and yet, the woman who was looking at him through the purple lenses of her aviator glasses with a thin smile could make his wrists tremble as not even the incoming of the Russian troops had done during the second World War.
But she was evil incarnate, and nothing, nothing could make him think otherwise, not after all those years.
She could try to fool others with her petite figure and her polite smiles, but not him, not his eyes.
He knew what she concealed behind her lazy gestures and free attitude, he had seen what the feminine hands she had interlaced behind her neck to hold her head in place were capable of, and he had learned what to expect from her.
A lot of migraines and paperwork.
Stacks and stacks of paperwork to cover up her nocturnal raids with her crazy team as the reconnaissance tour of friendly neghborhood watchmen, but friendly neghborhood watchmen did not usually return home with corpses hidden in one of the base's basket of dirty clothes, not that General Schmidt had ever tried to discover if the arm he had glimpsed between the white sheets before one of the whistlig youngsters could throw it back in the basket belonged to someone who was still alive.
No one usually questioned them and what they do, not even him.
They had been chosen for that reason, after all, to do what no other could do, what normal human being could not do for moral issues or a simple matter of humanity.
Be reckless. Heartless. Beyond the rules.
Beyond everything else.
They were who you would have called to do the dirty work, the Viewless, who was there without you knowing that they were there with you, that they were watching you all the time, that they were only waiting for a reason to act, to keep the balance, even if there was nothing balanced in her gaze or mind, or in anything that belonged to the young woman in front of him.
-Here.
When the man handed her the sheet, an excited smile graced Alexis's pale face, but just as she tried to put it back in her yellow backpack, a hand covered her own, forcing Alexis to meet the hard gaze of the old soldier with her own.
- Try to keep a low profile, Jones. You are going as a watcher, and watching is the only thing you should do, am i clear?
- Of course Schmitty, of course – the young woman cooed, giving a reassuring pat on his cheek.
- I am serious, child.
- It will be fine signor Schmidt, I will be with her.
A flash of worry darkened the stone gaze of the man when he saw the tall, blonde and gentle woman who was accompanyning Alexis trying to reassure him, but their secretary did not seem troubled by the Arthur's request to go with Alexis into a magical school full of Death Eater's offsprings ready to kill her on the spot just for being, well, a muggle, she was actually looking forward it.
- I still did not approve it. You should not go, miss Bianchi. It's too dangerous.
- I am happy to help NIF, signore. And I am happy to be with dear Alexis.
- See? I am a dear – Alexis stressed with a cheerful smile, blowing a kiss to the gentle woman to express her appreciation for her kind words- She will be fine with me, so shut it and let me leave, Schmiddty.
- Low profile Jones, do we understand each other?
Alexis waved her hand in the air to dismiss his echoing words as she reached the door with Miranda on her side, stopping in exiting the room to look back at the man with a smile that send a wave of shivers to his spine.
And there he was, the Devil who was foundling him to get his soul.
- Say 'hi to the others when they came back from Bucarest for me, will you?
When the door closed behind her back, Miranda hesitated on her steps before reaching Alexis while throwing worried glances to the door behind which she had seen the old soldier jumping in his seat as he had just been biten by a snake before clinging to Alexis's arm in fright when she heard the scream echoing in the aisle as they reached the elevator.
- What was that?
Patting gently her hand, Alexis pressed the button with a smile, joining Miranda inside the elevator while the door she had just closed was thrown open and old Schimdtty searched her with a wild look.
- Are they not going with you?
Pity should have been what she should have felt in seeing the horrified look in the man's face once realized that her team would not have been happy to find her gone, to have been left behind.
Because awful things happened when she or one of the members of her team was not happy, but well, let old Schmiddty handle them, she was late for her plane, after all.
- Have fun!
- Is something wrong?
When Harry's soft voice succeded on going beyond the physical barrier she had erected around her hunched form with her hair, Hermione could only take a deep breath before nodding slowly while her throat swallowed back the tears that were threatening to roll down her cheeks and expose her crying.
Her breakdown.
Because she was yielding.
She was falling, and the young witch did not know how to stop, that time.
Not the tears that she felt pushing behind the eyelids she had just closed not to let a single tear leave her eyes.
Not the heavy breathing that was crushing her chest, forcing Hermione to take long and slow intakes of air to calm down.
Not the trembling of a hand she tightened around the spoon Hermione forced inside her mouth to swallow down her cry of pain and frustration with the pumpkin soup.
Unfair.
Everything was unfair.
Her life.
Her destiny, the world where she knew to belong despite her blood, a world that had always asked something from her every time, even when she had not been ready to give something in return for her staying.
First, her childhood.
Then her hope. Her sleep. Her peace of mind.
Hermione had run out of thing to give, to sacrifice, or so she had thought, hoped.
Mia.
A sob escaped her lips when the calling echoed in her mind, a reminder of what she had just sacrificed, what the magical world had claimed from her as a payment for another year to spend on his magical ground.
Her soul.
Because giving up Alexis had meant giving up even that, sacrificing who had saved her before Harry and Ron from the loneliness, who she had loved like a sister, like a family she had betrayed, she had abandoned.
And it hurts, it hurts so much cried her internal voice with a choking sound that escaped her lips while Dumbledore began to talk about the incoming war and the need to be strong, to face the darkness with bravery, to stand strong and united, but Hermione was tired of being strong, of being invincible.
Perfect.
She just wanted to curl in a corner and cry, cry until she had no voice to scream, until she had no tears to share, crying until she had run out of breath and strength.
But there she was, squeezed between who could not even imagine what she had had to sacrifice to sit there with them, to be who she was, to do what they could do so normally to make her want to throw up.
- I am glad to welcome a newcomer to ours ranks, she will help the elf in the kitchen, so let's give to Miranda Bianchi a warm welcome.
A row of applause echoed around her while Hermione kept on staring at her plate, deaf to Harry concerned voice and the stares she knew to have attracted with her silence and stilness, but she did not want to cheer, she did not want to applaude, she wanted to be left alone, just for a while, just for few seconds.
She deserved at least that.
- Now, I am pleased to inform you that we have been chosen from the Ministry as a tester for a student exchange program with a famous European institute. Therefore, without further delay, let's greet your new companion, I hope you will treat her equally. Please my dear, come forward.
When Hermione heard it, when she recognized that walk, she thought to have gone mad.
However, when she heard it a second time, she could not help herself to take a sharp intake of air while the ticking of boots echoed in the surprisingly silent hall and the choking sound to her right made her aware that the new student had to be gorgeous to make Ronald choke with his own tongue.
- Merlin's beard.
Harry Potter and every Griffondor who was staring at the petite, pink haired girl jumped at the way Hermione Jane Granger's head jerked up, her eyes wide and shining with tears as she surveied the new student with tears stuck in her throath and chest.
Black boots.
A cloak that was billowing around her lithe body in a mystical way.
She loved striking entry like that one.
And then. She met them.
Her odd eyes.
Thin, stretched on the corner, with long, dark eyelashes that could not camouflage the glint of madness and cleverness that had always made her the smartest person she knew, eyes that Hermione saw softening instantly in meeting the witch's trembling gaze while Alexis's mouth took a gentler fold and the young witch's lips parted to free a soft and incredulous whisper.
- Alex?
Have you ever wondered about what a smart muggle would have done in the magical war? What could have happened if science and magic had collided?
Well, I have, so this is my retelling of how things would have gone if someone had actually taken in hand the situation instead of letting small children taking care of a crazy wizard.
I hope you liked the first chapter.
It's a lot to take in, but we will soon deepen what NIF meant, the story behind it and Alexis's background. I am curious to know what you think of this chapter, so I will wait hopefully for your review.
To the next chapter!