Chapter 15
Histories start in the library
April 11 1992, Hogwarts, Scotland
Alexandra groaned as she finished the last line of her Potions essay with her quill. With Saturday morning being bright and sunny, she had hoped getting rid of her homework in one hour or two and then going outside doing some sport or simply enjoying the weather with her friends. Flitwick had been particularly vicious in his duels last night, and she would have really enjoyed the relaxation. Unfortunately, the professors seemed to have concerted to bury the first-years under the weight of homework and essays. With the exams of the end of the year approaching, each teacher competed in ingenuity to give them the longest and difficult assignment possible. The Easter holidays, only one week away from now, promised to be more stressing than the Christmas ones.
The homework she had just been working on was a case in this point. Following the explosion of the cauldron of Sally-Anne Perks on Monday, Professor Snape had been in a massacring humour, and ordered them to write a roll of parchment on the subject of snake fangs. As the information on this ingredient was in the library and not on the current first-year book, Alexandra and the rest of the class had been forced to go row after row searching for books specialising on the effects of the Strength potion, the Boil-Cure Potion and many others. Even by beginning this homework on Wednesday, with the current amount of work delivered by the other classes, Alexandra had just finished the last touches on her essay. At three o'clock in the afternoon, far later than she had ever imagined. At least it was the last piece of homework she had to be done this week, so now she was free to do something else other than list the various proprieties of the fangs from venomous snakes. Closing the massive book Snake parts: What good are they? she had opened two hours ago, Alexandra looked around her, and saw Hermione looking pensively at her on the other side of the desk she was currently sitting on.
Of their trio, the Gryffindor girl had been by far the first drawing up revision tables and underlining all her notes in bright colours for the upcoming exams. When Nigel had had the bad idea to tell her exams were still eight weeks away and she had no need to begin such an arduous amount of revision, the answer had been bearing more than her standard level of 'aggressive'.
"What am I revising for? Are you mad? You realise we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's got into me …"
Poor Nigel hadn't since tried to question Hermione planning of revision. Neither had Alexandra for that matter. Still, Hermione took things far too seriously in her opinion. Discussing with Flitwick after her duels on Friday evening, Alexandra had learnt no student had ever been forced to do again his first-year since the 1870s. In reality, before fifth-year and the OWLS examinations, it was really difficult to redo a year at Hogwarts, and nearly impossible to be dismissed because of your results. If there were students like Crabble and Goyle every year in Slytherin, she was ready to accept her Head of House explanation on the spot.
That was not to say grades and exams at Hogwarts were not important, quite the contrary. Some options taken in third-year like Arithmancy were not accessible anymore if a student received failing grades in the subject at the end of a year. There was also the not very spoken understanding that while the professors had not the power to force a boy or a girl to abandon his magical studies, they had the right to refuse one of their students entry in their class past the fourth year if they judged teaching this teenager was a waste of their time. This right was rarely used, but it existed.
After fifth year, things changed considerably as the Senior Professors set their own requirements to attend their courses. The magical grades of Hogwarts were 'O' for 'Outstanding', 'E' for Exceeds Expectations, 'A' for Acceptable, 'P' for 'Pitiful' , 'D' for Dreadful and 'T' for 'Troll'. Only the three first grades validated a course, and a student had to earn at least two OWLS from the twelve existing classes to stay at Hogwarts. In reality, the teaching staff accepted back teenagers who had had at least three OWLS with one 'E' awarded. While Flitwick had revealed to her Charms studied were open to any Hogwarts alumni having an 'A', he was definitely an exception. Most of the other classes required an 'E', with the exception of History of Magic (that few boys and girls except some studious Ravenclaws dared to take anyway) and Defence Against the Dark Arts (which was changing professors at the end of each year). Professor Snape in Potions class was the worst: he accepted nothing but "O" for sixth and seventh years! Fortunately, the preoccupation of the OWLS score was still some years away for Alexandra. Though it didn't stop certain persons to project themselves forward.
"The day I don't have Potions will be the happiest day of my life..." Grumbled Nigel, a gloomy look on his visage as the shy Lion appeared more and more buried under his Potions notes. "I want to be a journalist, not a bloody Potioneer..."
"I don't know if you would be a good journalist, Nigel..."
Alexandra almost face-palmed at that. Sometimes Hermione insensitivity was surfacing at the worst of the moments.
"Why not?" Asked the raven-haired girl, seeing Nigel had almost crawled under the library's table in shame. "Nigel is honest, reliable, and present facts well in his writings. When you have finished reading him, you want to read more. I think he would make a very good journalist."
"But he's..." Hermione tact made an instant return and she didn't finish the sentence. Nigel's visage had in the mean time taken the colour of a tomato, and the Gryffindor was seemingly embarrassed of the compliment Alexandra had given.
"Shy?"
"Yes..."
"He's making progress. And no one is perfect. Nigel has an idea of a job he wants to do when he finishes his studies. Me, I have no clue..." Alexandra's voice change to a bit of melodrama at the end, although there was definitely a point of frustration. For all her ideas of enjoyment, she had not really found a profession finding grace to her eyes.
"You told us you wanted to travel around the world, have some adventures and discover new landscapes..." Mumbled Nigel, rosy in complexion.
"Sure. And I still want to do it." Alexandra confirmed, passing her hand in her long black hair thoughtfully. "But I would define it as a hobby, not as a way to earn money..."
"Like being a librarian?"
The tone of voice was too innocent for Hermione Granger, sounding dozens of alarms in Alexandra's head.
"Please tell me you do not intend to stay in a room of books all your life, Hermione." The sentence pronounced by the Potter Heiress was half-incantation, half-prayer. The answer from the brown-haired Gryffindor girl was a loud huff, which augured nothing good.
"Finished the Potions Essay?" Alexandra asked Hermione, aware her friend was going to camp on her positions, and that this was one she was not going to convince her to budge. Better to change the subject of the conversation.
"The one on Snake fangs? I finished it last evening. You?"
"Just put the last touch right now. Glad it's over."Alexandra suddenly had a disturbing thought. "One minute...we were given the essay on Monday with the Hufflepuffs. But the only moment Snape could give you the homework was yesterday. And you did it in one evening?"
The face of Hermione suddenly looked like a tomato ready to burst. Alexandra sighed, hearing Hermione whisper "Bloody observant friend..."
"Sometimes, Hermione, you will have to explain to me why the Hat didn't put you in Ravenclaw?" The Potter heiress asked rhetorically with a smirk.
"That's a question we would also like the answer!" Said a loud voice behind her.
Alexandra turned her head and refrained to groan or smack her head repeatedly on the desk.
"Longbottom, Black, Weasley." She said in a cold tone."I don't remember inviting you in this private conversation."
"You should be happy Alex," said the red-haired member of the Golden Trio, as brash as usual " that we are interested in bookworms like you..."
"My name is Alexandra Potter." The Ravenclaw replied in a frozen tone. "You are not my friend or my ally, Weasley. You will call me Potter or if I give you the authorisation, Alexandra. Call me Alex once again and we will see if you like speaking with a girl voice for one month or two."
"Actually, House Longbottom, Weasley and Potter are allied in the Wizengamot. The Light Party." Contradicted Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived's posture emitting suddenly pleasure at the fact she obviously wasn't at the top of things when politics were involved. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you? You know, with the debt your House owes to mine..."
Alexandra in the privacy of her own mind put another black mark on the case of the Chief Warlock. Her magical guardian could at least take the bother of informing her who she was 'allied' to by a simple letter. Apparently, she was not worth the effort. Well, if Merlin reborn could not, neither did she.
"I don't remember speaking face to face alone with our great headmaster once in my life" Alexandra said truthfully, putting her hand over the place her heart laid. Then she added in a mocking and falsely hurt tone. "I'm sure this great man has things more important than dealing with me, don't you think?"
"Hey, don't speak of Professor Dumbledore like that!" Shouted Weasley.
Alexandra rapidly turned her head towards the extremity of the library, hoping Madam Pince, the angry librarian, had not heard this outburst. Fortunately not. Damn, she had heard some persons venerated the Gandalf-like figure of the Wizarding world, but the Potter Heiress was not seeing often witches or wizards willing to defend Dumbledore's reputation despite not having said one real insult. Ronald Weasley was by all evidence was one of them.
"Tell what you have to say and go. Some of us are trying to work here." Alexandra affirmed in a soft whisper which carried very well her annoyance. Trying to reason Weasley 'his faith in Dumbledore was excessive' did not figure in her plan for the year. Alexandra knew a lost cause when she saw one.
"Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?" Asked Longbottom. Ah, that was the reason of their visit. No progress had been made since the Ravenclaw girl had overheard them at Christmas.
"Of course." Alexandra said in a surprised tone."I'm really surprised you don't."
"Why?" Asked Leo Black in a puzzled tone.
"Well, the man is a famous alchemist and known friend of the Headmaster. He is even mentioned on Dumbledore's card in the Chocolate Frogs."
"But we didn't find him anywhere in recent works!" Protested Ron Weasley.
"The man is famous for his alchemic works and creating the Philosopher's stone, Weasley! He's over six hundred years old! Of course he will not appear in recent magical inventions!"
For a moment, she wondered if she would have to give even more information to the Gryffindor trio, but it seemed Longbottom and Black had taken the hint. Unlike Weasley which sounded completely lost. In an instant, the Golden Trio ran out of the library wing where Alexandra, Nigel and Hermione were sitting. Alexandra had not even heard a thanks from Longbottom and his sidekicks. The supposed House of nobility had really manners to learn in everyday's life.
"Why did you answer their question and how did you know the answer?" Asked Hermione in a suspicious voice. The two Gryffindors had remained silent thorough the conversation, a manner like another not to attract even more scorn and light bullying from their housemates.
Alexandra dithered for a moment whether she wanted to answer truthfully or not. On the one hand, Nigel and Hermione would probably be safe if she kept the secret until the year was over. On the other hand, with Longbottom searching and putting his nose where he didn't belong, the probabilities were skyrocketing the two Gryffindors would be involved in one manner or another. Not telling them would be not only a breach of their trust, but could also keep them alive.
Alexandra sighed and then choose. It was not going to be a pleasant explanation.
"I heard them discussing the topic with Hagrid," Alexandra stated, rolling her shoulders "and I was curious so I did my research. Of course, I had heard the name in non-magical legends and myths. As for why I did answer their question, I wanted them out of the library. Seeing them search row after row and book after book was no more fun after several weeks. With them in proximity, it was becoming difficult to work in peace. Other questions?" The green-eyed girl finished, hoping her friend would stop there.
"Yes. Why were they searching about Flamel? And why are you calling the muggle world non-magical?" Demanded the auburn-haired boy.
"Do you want the honest answer?" Frowned Alexandra. At the combined nod of approval from Hermione and Nigel she answered.
"They are searching about Flamel because his Philosopher Stone is hidden in the Forbidden Corridor of the third floor." Seeing her friend go white at that information and staring at her open-mouthed. "The entrance is guarded by a gigantic three-headed dog. A Cerberus. Then there is a Devil Snare, some Flying Keys, a gigantic exchequer with massive statues to play, a mountain troll, several poisons and an enchanted mirror. Those are the main traps I saw.
And I don't pronounce the 'Muggle' word because it is an insult to people which don't have any magical powers. Seriously, we are all humans. Do I call Nigel 'pureblood' before engaging every conversation?"
But Hermione didn't seem to have heard the second part of her tirade. She was now pale like death, and looking really terrified.
"A-a three headed dog? A mountain troll?" Hermione slowly spoke, like she was uncertain of Alexandra's words, but the fear in her voice was clear. Alexandra winced. She should have known mentioning the troll was going to unleash a reaction like this. The bushy-haired Gryffindor had endured an awful experience with this sort of creature on Halloween.
"Big paws, big fangs, three heads, yes. And the troll...well it's a troll. Ugly, grey and smell like a dustbin in decomposition."
"I hope they are chained at least. Something that dangerous..." Hermione asked in a nervous voice. "They are chained right?"
"I'm not sure about the Cerberus." Alexandra was forced to admit, making her friends pale further, if it was humanly possible. "But I suppose so. The door is not strongly protected, so there must be something that forces the dog to stay inside the room and not go running in the rest of the castle. The troll is in a room with enchanted doors so it can't get out, that I'm sure."
"Fantastic."Hermione closed her eyes."How long have you known?"
"Christmas." Alexandra admitted. "Honestly, Hermione, I thought you knew of the Cerberus's presence. Most of the boys of your House have gone to the corridor and saw it. Well, except Nigel, of course. He's intelligent enough to stay far away from this place."
Hermione huffed at that, though Alexandra didn't know if that was at the fact she hadn't told her or the issue that most of her own House had chosen to not trust her with such sensitive information.
"I must go back to the Common Room for Nigel's Transfiguration Essay" The bushy-haired Gryffindor stated, standing as she affirmed it. An affirmation, Alexandra knew pertinently false, but let go for the moment. She had figured there would be some pay-back for her not revealing her actions, now she could only hope Hermione and Nigel would forgive her. "You will help him tomorrow for his Charms?"
"Sure." Alexandra said. "Same place, ten o'clock?"
"And don't think I will forget you hid this from me!"
And with another huff, Hermione Granger walked away in the pace of an irritated person, followed quickly by a Nigel Wolpert showing his 'sorry' expression.
"If only you knew..." Alexandra whispered in a low tone, seeing the bushy-haired girl leaving the library.
Frankly, Alexandra had not told the entire truth to Hermione. Far from it. By the beginning of April, she was reasonably sure at least three-quarters of Gryffindor House had seen the Cerberus guarding the entry of the forbidden corridor supposed to guard the Stone (that or they had heard of it from a friend). Being aware of it and having connected the clues would not be a difficult thing to claim if someone came to ask for more information or questioned how she knew. However, she had been unable to confirm whether the trials and defences were specifically conceived to challenge Longbottom, Black and Weasley. Alexandra also didn't know if the Headmaster was aware of the theft she had committed or not.
There was also the problem of Quirell. The man was apparently after the Stone himself, posing himself as a coward to divert attention to more terrifying professors like Snape. The troll evidence was compelling, and it implied Junior Professor Devkins of Defence Against the Dark Arts was probably Quirell's subordinate in this little operation to divert attention from themselves. To aggravate things, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had also tried to assassinate Neville Longbottom.
Also concerning was the character of Nicolas Flamel. Alexandra had sent Atalanta to the famous alchemist home in January, with a letter in which she proposed to give back his Stone. Her owl returned back in March, the letter still unopened and disappointed hoots marking her inability to achieve her task. So either Flamel's home was so well protected a magical owl had no chance to find it, or the Flamel couple was dead.
This was the last thing going wrong from a long list at Hogwarts. In the world she had just left, Alexandra was sure it would be enough to alert the police and the authorities. Placing students in danger of death. Murder attempts. Murder: Alex Sykes for certain, Nicolas Flamel possibly. But it was Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful man of Magical England she was speaking about. By the little bits of information heard in the corridor and the boast coming from the Gryffindor table during the meals, the man was seen as Merlin-reborn, the only rampart England had against the forces of Darkness. Headmaster of Hogwarts, magical equivalent of the Lord Chancellor and the lord Speaker of the House of Lords at the same time, Dumbledore was presiding the only international magical organisation of the world. Any accusation a first-year could make would be swept under the carpet, true or false.
Heading towards the section of history books she read for fun, Alexandra thought again about her decision to not inform Hermione of this minefield. While it pained her to not reveal everything to one of the only friends she had, the danger was simply too great. Hermione's tendency to venerate the professors had faded, but there was a felling of righteousness in her friend which would drive her as sure as the sun rose to butt heads with the Hogwarts establishment, in particular Professor McGonagall. The Head of House Gryffindor drinking the words of the headmaster as divine truth, Hermione and Alexandra would be expulsed from Hogwarts by the next day at the very least in the best of cases. That was, if most of the clues and conclusions she had gathered were false. If not, she would not leave the castle alive.
Taking English History of the Twelfth Century from a row, the raven-haired Ravenclaw marched back to her seat and began to read. Absorbed in her lecture, she didn't notice a person sitting in the seat in front of her.
"Forgot anything Hermione?" Alexandra demanded absently.
"I'm not a girl, Potter." Affirmed an elegant, cultured voice she had heard once before in a red train.
Alexandra groaned internally. First, Longbottom, Black and Weasley. Secondly, a time of 'revelations' with Hermione on one of her least favourite subjects. And now him.
"What do you want, Zabini?" Alexandra livid green eyes ceased to read and fixed the boy sitting before her.
The dark-skinned pureblood had not changed much from the only time they had met and spoken in the Hogwarts Express. His robes were still looking meticulously perfect, every single clothe which could be seen was in the correct position. His nails were polished and his hairs looked like he had passed four times Alexandra's time in a bathroom to accomplish the perfect appearance of the arrogant pureblood in all his glory. Sometimes she wondered if the members of House Slytherin took the time off their revisions and their homework to pass their time in front of mirror, tracking the little imperfections of bodies. The depressing answer was 'probably'. Crabble and Goyle being the exceptions, of course.
"I'm hurt Potter. You sound like you aren't happy to see me. Don't tell me you are becoming like the Gryffindors in believing "All Slytherins are evil!" ?"
"No, I am firmly on the side "Gryffindors and Slytherins are stupid, let's them kill each other!" She replied in a trait of black humour.
Zabini winced at that, whispering something which sounded like "Bloody Malfoy..." Interesting in her opinion that he didn't tried to defend the behaviour of Draco and his followers.
"As funny as your point was, I'm afraid I'm not here for that."
"And what are you here for? Your stash of poisons ran out of ingredients? There is a curse you don't know how to locate in the library?" Alexandra paused an instant. "The condolences for the next husband of your mother?"
"I want you to give me private lessons."
That was a sentence Alexandra had not classed in her top ten for a request coming from a Slytherin.
"Repeat that again?" She said in an incredulous voice.
"You understood me correctly the first time." Zabini smirked, sounding really amused by her perplexity.
"Why? You are well, a pureblood and..."
"Yes, I'm a pureblood." Zabini looked testy at that."And as my mother liked to remind me at the Christmas holidays, I'm at the bottom of the class like the rest of my fellow housemates." The last two words were pronounced was full of venom. "If I do not want to pass all my summer with private tutors like my mother promised me, I must raise my notes and climb up in the rankings."
"That does not explain why you came to me. There are older students in Slytherin who could teach you much better than me, I'm sure."
"You do not know Slytherin very well, do you, Potter?" Zabini replied. "In our House, everything is about favours, wealth and influence. Having an older student for tutor would cost me a lot of money, and if knowledge came out I searched one, my standing inside the House would be destroyed by Malfoy and his goons."
"Never mind that Crabble and Goyle are the dead lasts of our year." At Blaise's nod of approbation, she continued. "That doesn't explain why you are addressing yourself to me? There are a lot of Ravenclaws who love nothing but study. 'Bookworms' like one Ron Weasley loves to nickname us. One of the third or fourth-years would make an excellent tutor I'm sure."
"That's true." admitted Blaise."The problem is, unless I forced one of them to accept an Oath of Silence about what they are teaching me, my strengths and my weaknesses would be available to whatever political faction they belong."
Alexandra posed a moment to consider about Blaise was saying. As the Potter Heiress was an outcast in Ravenclaw House, she had big difficulties to keep a civil conversation with any of her housemates for any length of time. The difficulty increased if the subject was not Quidditch or what you thought about the classes of this week. Thus, Alexandra had really little information related to the persons in her year. She certainly knew nothing about their politic affiliations. This was not the kind of thing you spoke about to a complete stranger. Perhaps what Zabini said was completely bogus. But it could also be right. No way to judge.
"Assuming you speak the truth, why should I say yes? When the news will break out and they will, Malfoy will send all his lackeys after me. I have already my own House complotting to kill me. I really don't feel happy at the idea of adding another quarter of the school to the list of people I must fight."
"Malfoy will never be your ally." Remarked Blaise.
"True. But are you ready to stand with me when this blonde slimy snake comes after me with his two gorillas? Thought not." Alexandra affirmed when Zabini 's eyes refused to meet her directly as she spoke.
"I could pay you." The pureblood voice has become almost inaudible.
"Money isn't everything Zabini. And gold is unimportant when you're dead. Besides, while I'm not wealthy like a Malfoy, I am not poor."
"So why do you wear these Muggle drags when you're out of class? You love being seen in the same category as the Weasleys?"
"I will pretend I did not hear this last remark, Zabini. But for your information, these 'Muggle drags' as you called them are a lot more practical when you are attacked than the robes you're wearing. And unlike the rest of you, I'm not wearing things which are two centuries out of fashion." Alexandra drew her wand from the holster on her right arm in a fluid and rapid move, a feat nearly impossible in execution with the bulky witches' robes.
Silence came between Blaise and Alexandra, each side seemingly pausing to consider what the other has said in the conversation. Personally, Alexandra didn't like what she had been forced to listen. Unlike Hermione and Nigel who had the nobility wells of the Gryffindors in them, Blaise Zabini had not an ounce of loyalty in him. To say the truth, Alexandra suspected the meaning of the word was unknown to him. In a fight, he would be next to useless at best, the weekly Gryffindors-Slytherins ambushes had proven that beyond doubt. At worse, he would stab her in the back as soon as she had not her eyes on him anymore. Academically, Zabini was in the last quarter of the rankings and was only decent in Potions and Astronomy. Rumours and whispers were telling his only specialty was in undetectable poisons like his mother. Did Alexandra want to be friend with someone like that? In her own mind, she knew the answer was a loud 'NO!'. Living at the Dursleys had taught Alexandra how cruel people could be when they had not your best interests at her. Blaise was only searching for a way not to fail in half of his classes. This was hardly what Alexandra would recognise as her 'best interests'. Assuming of course, it was not just a plot of a certain blond first-year Slytherin to put her in trouble. Those sorted in the House of Snakes were hardly subtle, but there was always a possibility someone started to use his brain. Stranger things had happened.
"I am going to have to decline your offer, Zabini. You will have to find another tutor." Alexandra said, in her best neutral tone.
"You can't refuse my offer like that!" The exclamation of the dark-skinned boy was incredulous, like he had not seriously expected her to decline his offer. His tone then calmed a bit, in a furious whisper. "If my mother..."
"Discover you passed your whole time sneering and cursing the students who are too weak to defend themselves against you instead of studying? Too bad for you." Alexandra had taken a disapproving voice. While Blaise Zabini was far from the most assiduous follower of Draco Malfoy, he participated like the rest of House Slytherin in verbal abuse towards the students having no 'pure' ancestry and those of lower standing than him. Well, it seemed these hours passed to bully his way in the corridors had not been profitable to his performances on the academic field.
Ranging her affairs and bringing back to their rows the books she had used for her essay, Alexandra prepared to leave the wing. Blaise had still not moved from his chair.
"I would be careful if I were you outside Potter." Blaise whispered.
"Is that a threat?" Alexandra asked, wondering internally if she would have to ask Flitwick the spells to verify if her food and her drinks weren't poisoned.
But the first-year Slytherin refused to say more, glancing quickly to see if there were others students around to hear their conversation. After ten seconds, his only reply was a "Good luck Potter" and he departed, not running but walking rapidly like he had suddenly an emergency of some kind.
Now alone in the library, Alexandra frowned. It had been too long since she had been the target of an attack at Hogwarts. She had made the optimistic assumption that no one would dare attack her again, with the terrifying rumours which had circulated about her murdering a full grown mountain troll, but apparently she had been deadly wrong. If indeed Blaise Zabini was right and there was an ambush waiting for her outside the library, it was likely they were prepared and had Slytherins inside their ranks to gather the maximum of magical power against her. Best case, it was only Malfoy and his cronies. Worst case, twenty Slytherins and twenty Ravenclaws, most of them older years. Unlikely, but not impossible. Alexandra was enough realist to know she could not win against such odds.
Looking at her watch, she saw it was five minutes before four o'clock. She could wait in the library two hours and then got to dinner, but there was no certainty her stalkers would not wait that long. It was not as if they were obsessed with their school revisions. Sighing, Alexandra realised she had become too predictable in her schedule. Flitwick had warned her against this habit in the duels, but evidently she should have also applied it to her way of life. And now it was going to end badly.
With her bag on her shoulder, she opened the only door allowing to get out of the library and began to run in a corridor on the right leading to a not very well known stair on the fifth floor.
"AFTER HER!"
Alexandra tried not to laugh hearing that. Apparently, dozens of defeat had not made Draco Malfoy more subtle or careful in strategy planning. If the noises of cavalcade behind her were any indication, it had made the 'wait until my father hears this' pureblood even more brash and straightforward.
The corridor Alexandra had taken was not well-frequented between classes; it was completely deserted on a Saturday afternoon. With her good physical condition, she was able to run half an hour before being forced to stop breathless, even with a bag on her shoulder. Behind her, Malfoy and whoever he had recruited to do the attempt were losing ground, having not practised jogging or duelling in their free time.
When Alexandra reached the stairs, she was thirty meters before her pursuers. Throwing two or three trap spells on the corridor she had just ran from, Alexandra climbed up the stairs, remarking it was 'only' Draco Malfoy, his usual followers Crabble, Goyle, Parkinson, Nott, Bulstrode, Vaisey and what looked to be three fourth-years Ravenclaws with the Slytherins. So it was ten against one, and her housemates were the most dangerous of the lot. It was probably the Ravens who had had the idea of this little ambush, and Malfoy had sabotaged it by his simple presence.
Alexandra did not stop running on top of the stairs, instead continuing to pose simple first-years traps behind her and boosting the advance on her pursuers. Unless she was badly mistaken, all the attackers after her were purebloods. Considering the disdain most the nobility heirs and heiresses of the Wizarding world felt towards physical exercise, she had decided to tire them a bit before engaging the fight.
After three more corridors and two more stairs, Alexandra stopped. Her advance had become sufficiently important for only the older Ravenclaws to maintain a retard of fifty or so meters. The Slytherins first years were lagging far behind at the bottom of the stairs, red-faced from this unanticipated effort.
Throwing a wall of smoke, Alexandra took position under a pillar at her right, hoping that irritated from the long hunt, the Ravenclaws would charge ahead without thinking. To her great surprise, they did.
"Sorry, but a lot of people have angered me today. LUMOS!"
It had been a long time she had ceased to use this tactic of duel against Flitwick: her little Head of House had magical glasses which allowed him to deflect most of the blindness coming from one of her overpowered spell of light.
"ARRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Opening back her eyes, she knew by the screams of pain the light spell had once again done the job. The three Ravenclaws fourth-years, two of them who incidentally had been the deceased Alex Sykes followers, were shouting and trying to hold their eyes, completely blind. Alexandra did not miss the opportunity and immobilised them with three Petrificus Totalus. Held by invisible ropes, the three older teenagers fell on their back, neutralised. The ambush had not taken half a minute.
"Three down, seven to go." Alexandra told herself. Indeed, the strident shouts of Draco Malfoy were already coming nearer, having profited from the time spent to arrive on the scene.
"Slytherin and no quarter!" Exclaimed Draco Malfoy, staying near the stairs and making charge in the corridor his minions Crabble and Goyle, followed by the four other first-years.
"GONDOR!" Alexandra shouted back. After having put three of her own housemates under body-bind, she would be damned before she screamed the name of Ravenclaw.
Then the raven-haired girl began to cast.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! FURUNCULUS! MUCUS AD NAUSEAM! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! FLIPENDO! VERMILLIOUS! VERDIMILLIOUS!"
Crabble and Goyle had absolutely no chance, being massive for their age. By the time she casted "FLIPENDO!", Crabble was body-bound and Goyle was groaning in pain, covered in boils with his nose and his mouth full of mucus.
Parkinson, Vaisey, Nott and Bulstrode received the rest of her spells but continued to advance casting their own hexes and jinxes in return. Which missed completely. Terrible aim. Moreover, Alexandra was behind a pillar and could take cover. The Slytherins were in the middle of the corridor. Now if only they could stay there...
"COLLOSHOO! COLLOSHOO! COLLOSHOO! COLLOSHOO!"
The Stickfast Hex had only one main application: stick someone shoes to the ground. Of course, it was useless against professional duellists who knew how to protect their foot and their legs, but the Slytherins she was fighting were not professionals. Vaisey and Bulstrode didn't stop running, and as such slammed on the floor on their face when their shoes were suddenly stuck on the floor. Parkinson slammed into the wall and didn't move anymore. But Nott managed to immobilise himself in time.
"ANTEOCULATIA!" Theodore Nott snarled, having apparently not appreciated at all seeing his housemates falling one by one.
Alexandra raised an eyebrow at that. She had just taken down eight students, and Nott wanted to curse her with horns? This boy had really no sense of priorities.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
And Nott joined the rest of the first-Slytherins unable to move on the floor of the corridor.
Fifty meters away, Draco Malfoy looked at her with fear and shock on his face. Transpiring and breathing hard, the self-proclaimed leader of Slytherin had apparently not fully recuperated from their little jogging in the corridors of Hogwarts. Too bad for him. However, she had not the intention to let him run to Snape's office and proclaim an outlandish piece of fiction which had no contact whatsoever with reality. Seeing the heir of the Malfoy family beginning to run in the other direction, Alexandra pursued him and reduced the distance without effort, the escape speed of her last opponent being desperately slow.
"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!"
The spell touched Draco Malfoy in his back and tied magically his legs together. As the blonde was running without even thinking of what she could throw at him, the effect was immediate. Draco Malfoy lost his equilibrium and crashed into a painting representing monks, before collapsing slowly against the wall, visibly unconscious.
"And this was the last. Ten out of ten." Alexandra said.
Looking around her, she wondered how she was going to explain the new attack. This was not like the long-lasting feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin: unlike Longbottom and the Lions, no one was going to try to protect her against the wrath of Lucius Malfoy. Unless...
Grabbing Draco Malfoy by the feet and dragging him where the other nine students had fallen, Alexandra had a very nasty thought. The Ravenclaws and the Slytherins knew she was responsible for their predicament. But should someone unknown modify the scene of the 'crime' to make it even more pathetic for her attackers, well. Perhaps the students lying defeated at her feet wouldn't dare go to Snape and declare their distorted version of the events. The Potions Master didn't like the three other Houses, but he hated even more seeing when his Snakes were caught doing the deed they were accused of. With a smile which would have made a predator take three steps back, Alexandra began to cast Charms on the corridor. Her work done, she gathered the ten wands of the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins and left the sixth floor where the fight had taken place. Alexandra had a Head of House to inform, her version of events to spread around Hogwarts and ten wizards wands to deliver.
"Now if only all the problems were all that simple to solve..."
