Alexandra Potter
Chapter Eleven: Firsts and Lasts
Scene 5/6
For the first time in her life, Alex had trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve. Christmas with the Dursleys was never a pleasant affair: some second hand clothes for her, all the most expensive toys for Dudley. The lunch was good, she supposed, but only when Aunt Marge didn't come. She always got drunk, and when she got drunk she got mean.
But this year she had presents from friends to look forward to, and a lunch cooked by Hogwarts' Elves. She didn't get to sleep until past midnight, and woke up at six o'clock. The moment she was awake she knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep.
"Merry Christmas to me!" she said as she slipped out of bed. That was the only bad part: she'd be opening her presents alone. But just for this year: next year, she'd be celebrating Christmas with the Malfoys.
Her presents had appeared mysteriously at the foot of her bed, arranged in a pretty stack. The House Elves' doing, she guessed. She was surprised by the size of the pile: it was more than she'd got from the Dursleys in 11 years. She'd been expecting fewer.
The Malfoys, she knew, opened one present at breakfast, and the rest after lunch.Screw that.Waiting that long would be torture. She sat down in front of them and looked them over, feeling them, weighing them in her hands, appreciating the paper. It was clear which three came from the Malfoys: wrapped in silver paper with green bows, they were significantly more elegant than the cheery colour of the others. She decided to start with them.
The largest of them was almost certainly a book.For Alexandra. With Regards, Lucius.She opened it carefully, trying not to tear the paper. It opened surprisingly easily, and, as predicted, a book fell out. But when she took a closer look, she realised she wasn't quite right.
It wasn't a book - it was a diary. It was plain black, leather, with high quality parchment within. It was also completely blank. A note fell from the front.
Alexandra,
Draco has told me of your intelligence and desire for knowledge. A girl such as you must have many thoughts in her head. As such, I feel a diary to be an appropriate gift. Within these pages, you may bare your soul, safely unloading those thoughts which grow too weighty to stay within.
Merry Christmas,
Lucius
It was a thoughtful gift, but Alex didn't think she'd be using it any time soon. It would be a good notebook, though, if she ever ran out of parchment. She placed it aside, before pausing.Funny...she thought, for a moment, that she'd seen a flash of gold on the diary's front. But a closer examination revealed plain black leather.Maybe I should've got more sleep, she thought.Nah - presents!
The next present was from Narcissa. Alex's eyes widened when she saw the box: it was marked with the logo of Smith's of London's - one of the most expensive jewellers in Britain. A charm bracelet lay within, just like the one Narcissa had been wearing - though with fewer charms. A card beneath the velvet told her they would keep her dry, warm, and undisturbed by the wind. It was a generous gift indeed. Alex was suddenly glad she'd not skimped on her present to the Malfoys.
The last present had to be from Draco, then. It was the smallest by far: it looked like a card. Curious, she opened it. A letter and a key were inside.
Dear Lady Shrewsbury,
It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to the Abingdon Club, sponsored by Master Malfoy.
As you are no doubt aware, the Abingdon Club started life in 1544 when a group of like-minded friends gathered to discuss issues of mutual interest. Historically, the Abingdon Club is most famous for hunting, and our clubhouse in Westminster possesses the only mounted manticore in the British Isles. Traditionally the presentation of a trophy was a necessary requirement of entry to the club, but in 1904 the club began admitting members by sponsorship. In modern times, Ministry regulations have made the sport of hunting more difficult, but members of our club still enjoy the social aspects of the organisation.
We look forward to seeing you in the clubhouse. Merely enter with your key and our man Henry will be happy to show you around. There are many trophies of note to be seen, and our library is the third largest in Britain.
Good Hunting!
Charles Grundswick-Hector
President
It was, it had to be said, a strange present. Alex had never heard of the Abingdon Club, nor had she ever expressed an interest in hunting. But she'd give Draco the benefit of the doubt on the matter.Maybe there's something more to the club. And itdidhave the third biggest library in Britain. Sure, Hogwarts had the largest, but she wouldn't be at Hogwarts forever.
She put the letter aside and picked up another present. It was the biggest of the lot, clumsily wrapped and heavy.To Alex. Merry Christmas! From Remus. She ripped the paper off eagerly.
When she saw what it was, a lump formed in Alex's throat. She tried to swallow it away, but it wouldn't go, and she did nothing to stop her silent tears. Remus had come through on his promise. He'd sent her a photo album. Trembling, Alex lifted the cover. A single moving photo sat in the centre of the first page. Her parents.
They were both of them young, good looking, and full of life. The photo had been taken in a park. As Alex watched, they linked hands and spun in a circle, laughing silently together. Her hair was from her father, she realised. Her mother's hair was a brilliant red, the colour of rust, and she had the same brilliant green eyes that Alex did.
For the first time in her life, Alex regretted being a metamorphmagus. She'd never changed anything about herself dramatically, but nor was her appearance entirely natural. She'd made hundreds of tiny changes over the years, according to her whims, and the result was that she didn't particularly resemble her parents.
She looked through the entire album before moving on to the final two presents. One was from Lily, and was full of makeup. Alex remembered her last attempt at using it with a grimace.Well, there's certainly enough here to practice with. The last present was a mystery. She had no idea who it was from. She was fairly sure Susan wouldn't send her a present. Was this from the Dursleys? Did they even know how to use owl post? It felt like clothes inside, which was what they'd always given her in the past.
She opened the present to reveal a silvery cloak, unbelievably soft. It was cool to the touch, and slid through her hands easily, like silk.Definitely not from the Dursleys. She looked at the discarded wrapping paper - a note sat inside.
Alex,
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to its rightful owner.
AD
Dumbledore!Dumbledore had sent her the cloak - though, as the note said, it really was hers already. Still, she was glad she'd sent him the bezoar, even if it was something of a joke gift.I wonder why my father lent to to him, she thought. It was a beautiful cloak, to be sure, but Dumbledore had plenty of cloaks.
She tied it around her neck and went to the bathroom to use the mirror. It was very handsome, even combined as it was with her pyjamas. Then she drew it close around her and her body disappeared. Her head was floating in mid air, as if she'd been decapitated.
"No way," she said, and she let the cloak fall open again. Her body re-appeared. "That issocool." She tied the cloak closed with the toggles, and put the hood up. She disappeared entirely.
That gave her an idea.
The Restricted Section of Hogwarts' library was not small. There were many ways for a book to end up there, from containing curses, to the whim of a teacher, to Ministerial decree. According to the Ministry of Magic, there were certain spells which could not be mentioned in books. Any that did - either because they predated the ban, or out of rebelliousness - would end up in the Restricted Section.
Unsurprisingly, the Restricted Section was almost deserted when Alex slipped past the barrier. It was Christmas Day, after all. A portrait hung on the end of a bookcase, standing vigil over the divide, but Alex was invisible. So long as she was silent, the portrait would never know.
She was surprised to find that the restricted books were organised just as well as the main library. She'd expected a confusing jumble of books with no order, but the bookcases were arranged by topic - an "A to Z" of interesting magic. Some were known to her, like alchemy, curses, and transmogrification. Others, though mysterious, had vaguely familiar names: legilimency, cryptomancy, necromancy. A few were quite obvious: Potions was still Potions, ritual magic had a large section, and one small bookcase was simply marked "esoteric". Most shelves, however, were completely new to her. She'd never realised there were so many obscure branches of magic, beyond those taught at Hogwarts. She guessed that somewhere in the Restricted Section she could find more books on Somniamancy, if she wanted.
But first she just wanted to look around. She had plenty of time, after all - lunch was still several hours away. So she wandered the aisles with her head bent sideways, letting her eyes travel across the titles of the books as she walked. Many of them lacked markings of any kind, some were in strange languages, but there were quite a few which looked no different to regular books.
Some of the books had cards stuck to their spines, and those ones Alex avoided. They were all cursed, and the cards gave instructions on how to safely use them. But the others were safe to touch, and touch them she did. She spent hours just looking through contents pages and introductions, sampling a dozen branches of magic. Logology was all about casting Charms on words, and was how the Ministry tracked the traffic of illegal spells. Cryptomancy was a branch of Charms all about keeping secrets. And alchemy was not, as Alex had initially thought, some kind of strange mixture of Potions and Transfiguration. It was a more reflective practice, apparently, and had something to do with the soul.
Eventually, she made her way to more familiar ground and found herself in the Potions section. It was the largest subject by far, the size of Transmogrification and Charms combined. Someone - Madam Pince, she supposed - had divided it up into many sub-sections. And then Alex found it:Sleep Potions.
If she was to execute a better revenge on Daphne, perhaps this was the place to look. She didn't want to abandon Somniamancy entirely - not after all the work she'd put into it.Maybe I can use a Somniamancy AND a potion. It would be justice: Daphne had got Alex with a potion, so this would balance them out. So she took down a half dozen promising books, sat cross-legged on the floor, and began to read.
She found the perfect potion inFantasy No More, a book all about making dreams more real. Even alone as she was, some of the book's illustrations made Alex blush - it was focused on a rather different kind of dream to the kind Alex would send Daphne. Still, she thought it would work. She'd get Draco to slip Daphne the potion, then at night she'd enter Daphne's dreams. The dreams would turn to nightmares, and within the nightmare Alex would confront Daphne. She'd tell her: leave me alone - or else.
And then Daphne would wake up, and find that the nightmare was real. That whatever happened to her in the nightmare, happened in real life too. If she cut herself in the nightmare, the cut would appear on her body. If she got a bruise in the nightmare, she'd bruise in the waking world too. Not knowing about the potion, she'd think Alex could do anything to her, any time. And Alex would have won.
There were dangers, of course. The potion wasn't just limited to cuts and bruises.But I'll be in control, Alex thought.I'll just scare her - nothing worse than that. And anyway, people tended to wake up before anythingtoobad happened to them in their dreams. Just like she'd done, with Dumbledore's gargoyle.
It was, Alex thought uncomfortably, Dark magic. It was not adult content alone which placed it in the Restricted Section. The potion would resist reversal quite powerfully - while you still were dreaming, the effects on the body could not be easily undone. But once awake, the wounds would be just like any other. Alex had spent several hours in Madam Pomfrey's care, and in the end Snape had to come to brew her an antidote. She could've lost the use of her voice forever. A few cuts and bruises were nothing compared to that. Draco had broken his leg and shrugged it off as nothing.
Yes, it would work very nicely. It would feel dangerous to Daphne, but it was actually quite safe. She copied out the recipe, checked it three times, then put all the books back exactly as she'd found them.
The clocktower bell rang twice and Alex's tummy gurgled in anticipation.Time for lunch. She returned her new cloak to Hufflepuff and made her way to the Great Hall.
The Hall had been redecorated for Christmas. A huge tree grew out of the floor in the centre of the room, reaching right up to the invisible rafters, and fairies fluttered in and out of its branches, flashing green and red. The House tables had been taken away, too. In their place sat a single table, decked out in full Christmas cheer, with candles, crackers and colourful paper hats at each place.
"Ah, Miss Potter!" said Dumbledore, standing up as she walked in. His paper hat was magnificent: bright pink, it was a perfect replica of Professor McGonagall's witch's brim. It clashed horribly with his red and green robes. The table was already more than half full, with teachers and students sitting together. "Come, come!" he said, gesturing towards a seat, "there's a place for you next to Miss Greengrass."
Daphne spun in her seat to face her, a look of surprise on her face. The Slytherin girl was looking positively radiant, her white blonde hair long and artfully messy, her green and silver paper crown perched jauntily on her head.
Well, there goes Christmas. Alex paused for only a moment before taking the place with a fake smile. She was just a few seats down from Professor McGonagall, who sitting opposite Dumbledore at the centre of the table.
"Merry Christmas, Alex!" said Daphne, and she held out an enormous cracker. "Pull a cracker with me?"
Alex tried not to let her surprise show.She wants to play games, does she?
"Of course!" said Alex, with as much girly charm as she could muster. She grasped the cracker and pulled.
BANG!Alex jumped; the cracker exploded with a puff of purple smoke. A figurine of a ballerina fell onto the table, where she picked herself up and started to dance.
"Oh, how cute!" said Daphne, watching the ballerina stumble when she pirouetted into a goblet. "You should take her."
"Oh, no, I couldn't -"
"I insist," said Daphne, and she pushed the dancer towards Alex. Disoriented, it danced towards the edge of the table.
"She doesn't have much spatial awareness, does she?" said Alex, giggling as she rescued it from certain death.
"Oh my goodness," said Daphne, delicately grasping Alex's wrist to expose her bracelet. "Is that a Smith's original?"
Alex grinned, genuinely pleased. "A gift from Mrs Malfoy," she said, glancing at Daphne while the other girl was looking at the bracelet. "That's a new robe, isn't it?" she said, nodding at Daphne's dress. It was, it had to be said, very beautiful - a deep forest green, long sleeved and embroidered in lace, it made Daphne look nothing less than a princess. "It's beautiful."
Daphne ducked her head shyly, a small smile on her mouth. "It's from Henry," she said, glancing down the table. Alex followed her gaze - Henry Talbot was down the other end of the table, sandwiched uncomfortably between Professors Winters and Flitwick. Daphne's second year boyfriend was a slightly soft looking boy, not fat, but not thin either, with long brown hair that fell in curtains in front of his eyes. When he saw them looking he waved, before cocking his head. He looked confused.
"Right now he's wondering how it is we're sitting together and Hogwarts still stands," whispered Daphne, and Alex laughed - though she too was wondering the same. Not that she wasn't having fun.
"Boys!" she said, rolling her eyes, and Daphne laughed.
"You two are scary, you know that?" said a boy opposite - Roland Peaks, of all people. He was sitting there half-gaping at them.
A wild impulse took Alex. "How's the telescope, Roland?" she said, enjoying the look of confusion on his face. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but he was interrupted.
Ting ting. The tell-tale sound of a spoon against glass hushed the table, and Dumbledore stood.
"You must forgive an old man," he said, "here we all are, and yet I seem to have forgotten the food!" Alex withheld a snort - Dumbledore forgot nothing. But everyone laughed indulgently, and Dumbledore actually chuckled himself. "Yes, yes. A mistake easily remedied! Bon appetit!"
He sat back down, and the food appeared to cheers. There were no courses: starters, mains and desserts appeared all at once, spread all over the table. In front of Alex was a jug of gravy, a plate of cheese, a mound of glistening golden roast potatoes, and a chocolate cake. For several minutes the table was ruled by calls for this or that dish, and a dance of plates began as everyone tried to get their favourites.
"I hear the Malfoy's ball was a success," said Daphne as they dug in. A few months ago Alex might have eaten such a delicious meal like a race, but she now ate slowly, with delicacy and grace. Just like Daphne did.Is that Dumbledore's game?she thought.He must have sat us together for a reason. He wants us to realise how similar we are?
"Oh yes," said Alex, "theHogsmeade Heraldwrote a very nice piece about it."
"I saw," said Daphne, "The Great and the Good Gather. Henry's father was there, of course, and his younger sister. I'm surprised you didn't go yourself..."
"Well, the invites were sent out last year," said Alex, spearing some turkey, stuffing and potato all together. "But I'll be going next year."
"Maybe I'll be able to go too, if Lord Talbot invites me," said Daphne, glancing down to Henry again. "I hear the Viceroy of India actually arrived on a Himalayan Sky Elephant."
"Well, maybe I can speak to Mr Malfoy," said Alex, hardly believing what she was saying, "I'll tell him you'd like to come, and then you won't need an invite from the Talbots!"
"Would you really?" said Daphne, turning to Alex with wide eyes, "oh, that would be so amazing. It'stheevent of the year. I'd have to get a new robe, of course, but I'm sure father would understand..."
"We could go shopping together!" said Alex, getting carried away now. "In Paris!"
"In New York!" added Daphne, tossing her hair like a glamorous American model. Her paper crown fell off. "Whoops!" she said, fishing it out of her gravy. "I think it's dead."
Alex stared at the soggy crown and laughed, and Daphne joined her.
The rest of lunch passed in talk of dresses, giggles about boys, and some creative matchmaking wherein they planned to marry off Professor Winters to Snape. Entirely by accident, the game stopped being a game and Alex started to have fun. More fun than she'd had in a long time.
"Of course everyone would get them shampoo for a wedding gift," said Daphne.
"Maybe Professor Winters can charm his hair greaseproof," suggested Alex, her stomach aching from laughing so much. But not so much that she didn't want dessert. She let her fork slice into the chocolate cake, and went to take a bite.
A whiff of burnt coffee.No! Her instincts screamed; her fork froze in midair. Burnt coffee - Mordred's Draught. She'd come one bite and thirty seconds from her heart exploding within her chest. She pretended to take a drink of juice, looking at Daphne over the brim. Was it her? Had her apparent redemption beenallan act? Had she just tried to kill Alex?
Her eyes slid from Daphne to Dumbledore. He was pretending to drink himself; their eyes locked. He'd been watching her. He offered her a mock toast, which Alex acknowledged with a small nod and a smile.
"Alex?" said Daphne, and Alex turned her attention back to the girl she was supposed to hate.
"Never mind," she said, putting her fork down. "Decided against dessert. You were saying?"