Chapter 23

Sensational Entrances

1st September 1992, Hogwarts Express

Alexandra snarled under the sheer weight of her trunk, trying without success to push it inside the compartment and failing utterly. Finally, out of breath, she stopped her effort and let the bag containing all her clothes, books and various objects she owned descend on the ground of platform nine and three quarters of King's Cross Station.

Defeated by a trunk, thought Alexandra. That was a new low, even for her.

Drawing her wand out of her wand holster, she quickly casted a Wingardium Leviosa on the recalcitrant luggage, praying the interdiction of practising magic during the holidays had already ended when she had crossed the magical barrier.

Opening again the door in front of her, she levitated the heavy trunk inside and quickly walked inside the train.

Sure enough, Hermione and Nigel were already awaiting her in the first compartment she opened.

"You're late." Remarked Nigel in an ironic tone.

"A witch is never really late, Nigel. She arrives when she means to, not before, and wizards must accept it." Joked Alexandra. "In the unlikely event a witch would be late, though, she would accuse her trunk to be too heavy to transport. Well the trunk and these useless Lockhart books."

She wasn't kidding. Her wandless magic was too unreliable to levitate a big object in plain day without all the inhabitants of Privet of Drive seeing it, so she had had to use the normal method to move it, until the point she had called the Knight Bus. Arriving at King's Cross, descending the trunk and reaching the magical platform had been even more difficult thanks to the crowd. Fortunately Atalanta made the travel to Hogwarts on her own. Carrying an owl on her shoulder would have made the task an impossible one.

"Lockhart books are not useless!" Protested Hermione, on the seat facing Nigel.

Alexandra threw her a surprised look, before sitting on the seat to Nigel's left.

"Strange. Have you read the same books as I have? Because there was not a single spell taught in all these books."

"But all the things he's done..." Said Hermione in a vehement voice.

"Whether our new Professor has done all the things he says having accomplished doesn't really matter, Hermione. I paid each of these books three Galleons, and they were seven of them. So, twenty-one Galleons for all, and I can't say any of them is worth the price. The Standard Book of Spells was half the price of a Lockhart book and has much more interesting information about the theory and practise of magic."

"Alexandra's right. My father read one of this book, and he wasn't really happy we were forced to buy all the Lockhart collection." Nigel intervened. "My grandfather said it was proof how deep Hogwarts had fallen, but you know how he is..."

Alexandra and Hermione looked at each other, their debate about Lockhart books forgotten. Seeing Nigel's grandfather at Diagon Alley had been a brutal reminder how bad Nigel's view of himself had suffered under this hard and bitter old man. In fact, Alexandra suspected it had been worse for Hermione. Living with the Dursleys for eleven years was difficult to beat, while the Gryffindor girl had loving parents who had accepted to send their only child to a secret world they ignored the existence two years ago. Watching someone treat his grandchild like dirt was not a pleasing experience.

"So what happened really to you at Brise-Roc?" Demanded Nigel. "The sum-up you sent us by letter wasn't very encouraging..."

"I saw the destruction it wrecked in the newspapers. How did you survive that, Alex?" Added the bushy-haired Gryffindor witch.

"Luck, Hermione. Luck and running as fast as I could away from the danger." Alexandra was forced to admit with bitterness. "Do you want the short or the long version? I saw a salamander-shaped demon from the deepest parts of Hell massacre a goblin army, and I abandoned them to save my skin."

Seeing the expectant regards of her two friends, the green-eyed Ravenclaw had to tell them the full story, which took her over half an hour. The silver sword kept in one of the lower compartments of her trunk was shown to add weight to the whole adventure.

"Does the sword has a name?" Said the auburn-haired Lion while admiring the handle and the forged metal.

"I settled for Glamdring."

"Glamdring. Not Orcrist?"

"Thorin died at the end, Hermione. I hope I will have a happier fate than that."

"Alexandra, please. What you did was truly something worthy of a legend. In fact, I think you should see a Mind-Healer-"

"No, Nigel. Thanks for the offer but no. Half of what I've seen so far is enough to wake me up at night. I don't want to have my face plastered on the newspapers and the persons who organised this slaughter after me. I want to enjoy a calm year. Peace. No deadly fights. Okay?"

Hermione and Nigel both nodded, but Alexandra could see it was reluctant and that they didn't agree with her reasoning.

Choosing to turn the topic of conversation to a safer and less depressing subject, the two Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw then discussed the spells they were going to learn this day in Charms. The minutes passed fast, as they were completely absorbed in their conversation, that they only realised they had left King's Cross as Nigel threw a glance outside and remarked the cow herd nearby the place the train they were passing.

"Weird." Said Nigel.

"What is it?" Asked Hermione.

"I didn't see Neville arrive on the platform. Nor did Ron or Leo."

"You certainly have missed them while we were discussing." Said Alexandra in a bored tone. While she would not be sorry if the Boy-Who-Lived didn't come at Hogwarts this year, reality was hardly going to be so pleasant. "I hadn't even noticed we had started the journey to Hogwarts."

"Perhaps... but the journalists and photographs were here and they would have jumped at him at first sight."

"True. On the other hand, whatever they have planned, they know they will never be expulsed. Last year proved that." Hermione affirmed, apparently still bitter about the rest of the first-year of her House had forced her to go to the Forbidden Corridor. "And have you heard how they called themselves after winning the House Cup?"

"The Golden Trio?" Asked Alexandra. It was the only nickname she had ever heard to describe Neville and his followers, although she was unsure who had first thrown the name in the melee.

"No. The New Marauders."

Alexandra frowned. She had heard the name before at Hogwarts but where? Oh well, it wasn't like the self-proclaimed titles a group of pranksters enjoyed was that important. The young Ravenclaw would remember in due time.

"I hope for them they haven't decided to raise the frequency of their pranks and duels in the corridor. They weren't the most popular students of Hogwarts last year." Alexandra remarked.

"They were loved in Gryffindor." Grimaced Nigel.

"Because they won the Cup at the last minute."Noted Hermione.

"And they are downright hated in Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff is more divided, they have taken care to prank them and leave no clue they are behind it." Alexandra added.

"Slytherin I understand but why Ravenclaw?" Asked Nigel.

Alexandra raised one eyebrow. "Remember which House was supposed to win the House Cup before the Headmaster decided on his own to give you Lions the trophy? Which House studied every time in the library when volleys of dungbombs were thrown? Which House makes literally novels of revision notes for the end of the year exams, only to see them burn in fireworks when some Gryffindors wanted to have fun?"

"Oh."

"They must be even least popular than you in Ravenclaw Tower." Said Hermione.

"No one is less popular than me in Ravenclaw, Hermione." Said Alexandra doing a parody of Malfoy's sneer, making Nigel and Hermione burst in laughter. "But they are really making a good effort, I will grant them that."

Afterwards, the discussion moved to moved to the absolute boredom generated by Binns and the laziness of Tiroflan, and continued from there. They were only interrupted in their debates by the trolley's lady, from which they bought several sweets. The sun finally set down over the hills of Northern Scotland and soon Alexandra and Hermione changed from their regular clothes to the Hogwarts robes, temporarily leaving Nigel out of the compartment as he was already in his wizard clothes.

Finally, the voice of the Hogwarts driver announced they were five minutes away from the station of Hogwarts, then the Express stopped. Taking their time, the trio walked out in the station. It was not raining, but the climate was downright freezing compared to the temperatures they had had in London.

They heard the huge Gatekeeper named Hagrid in the distance calling "Firs'-years this way!" but this time they did not follow him, instead marching after the crowd of older students onto a rough dirt road. Not far from the path, hundreds of stagecoaches awaited the students, driven by what looked to be the weirdest horses Alexandra had ever seen. They had a skeletal body, bat-like wings and reptilian futures, giving them a rather dark appearance, impression not helped by the fact they were now fully in the darkness.

"What are these things driving the coach, Nigel?" Alexandra asked, mounting in one which hadn't been occupied.

"Err...Alexandra, there is nothing driving the coach." Answered the Gryffindor boy, clearly frowning, as he and Hermione mounted with her in the coach.

"Of course, there is!" Alexandra replied, shutting the door and seeing the strange magical horse beginning to advance, making the coach bump and sway on the irregular dirt road. "Don't tell me you haven't seen these things!"

"Nigel's right, Alexandra." Said Hermione. "There's nothing drawing the coach."

"You don't see them? Skeletal horses with wings?" The Ravenclaw witch asked, wondering if she had not begun to suffer from hallucinations.

Nigel completely paled at her last words. "Thestrals." Her friend said in a whisper. "Of course you can see them, Alexandra."

"Why?"

"The only persons who can see Thestrals, are the ones who have seen death." Answered Hermione, distinctly ill-at-ease. "There was a chapter about them in Hogwarts: A History." The bushy-haired Gryffindor justified as the two others turned their head to observe her.

Alexandra grimaced. Well, at least she was not crazy. Alas, she was not certain having the confirmation she had already seen too much death to be better. The troll and Sykes at Halloween. Devkins at the end of the year. The goblins of Brise-Roc during the holidays. In one year, she had had a lot of occasions to see persons leaving this world. Usually in very violent circumstances.

Ten minutes passed, until their carriage like the others passed two great wrought-iron gates with large columns and winged boars on top of them, looking a bit ridiculous by the posture they were represented. The coach accelerated, as the towers, walls and turrets of Hogwarts grew more and more imposing from the tiny window available. When it came to a halt, they came out and found themselves directly in front of the entrance. Hermione led the group, climbing up first the stairs which guided them into the castle itself and when they passed the huge oak front doors, the cold disappeared in an instant, proof of the magic existing in the school.

They did not stay long in the Entrance Hall, as the crowd of incoming students was growing without sign of interruption. Entering the Great Hall, she noted the enchanted ceiling was fully black tonight, without any stars to illuminate it. The hundreds of torches, the great four tables, the flatware, the gold-coloured plates and the rest of decorations had not changed, though.

"See you tomorrow." Alexandra said to Hermione and Nigel, before they marched in the direction of the Gryffindor table. If the Professors had literally ignored the two Gryffindors eating and dining with her a good part of the last year, there was no way the teachers would tolerate this at the Sorting Feast.

She turned and began to walk at a rapid pace towards her usual place at the Ravenclaw table. On her way, she noticed many people looking at her with a lot of attention that wasn't there before, pointing fingers at her, not in fear or terror, but for the first time in interest and calculation. Great. There still students glancing at her and then avoiding her attention, frightened and scared, but not a majority anymore. What had happened in the holidays to dissipate her status of Dark Lady?

Sitting on her seat, she looked towards the teacher's table. Not many new faces present this year. Sure enough, Lockhart was here, and he had a middle-aged brown-haired witch on his right who looked to be a fan-girl given the looks of adoration she sent him. They looked to be the only addition to the staff. The rest of the teachers had been already present last year.

Turning her attention to the Gryffindor table, she realised that Neville Longbottom and his two lieutenants were nowhere to be found. Had the Boy-Who-Lived really left Hogwarts for good?

As a very long column of new students entered the Hall, Alexandra stopped her musings. Like her one year ago, the young wizards and witches saw with stupefaction Professor McGonagall posing the Sorting Hat on a three-leg stool and listen the artefact sing the qualities of each of the four Houses existing at Hogwarts: bravery and nobility for Gryffindor, hard-work and solidarity for Hufflepuff, intelligence and wisdom for Ravenclaw, ambition and cunning for Slytherin.

Alexandra applauded politely with the rest of the school when the song finished, although inside she wondered if the hat shouldn't have dropped a few qualities for practicality's sake. Too many Gryffindors had nothing noble in them, and were only proving courageous with overwhelming odds on their side. Hufflepuff were loyal, but only to their House and no one else. Ravenclaws were usually intelligent, but extremely individualists and prone to attack whoever challenged their way of thinking. And for Slytherin...some of its members had nothing ambitious or cunning in them. One look at Crabbe and Goyle was enough to see that.

The Sorting hat having finished his musical performance, the Sorting thus began, with Professor McGonagall calling the students in the alphabetical order.

"Angela, Jade!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table of the Lions suddenly burst in cheers to welcome the new addition to their ranks.

"Baddock, Bridget!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Alexandra didn't follow every name of the Sorting after the first ones. First, because she was now rather hungry, and secondly there were too many young students waiting to be sorted. Her own promotion had numbered only forty-five, but this year there was a lot more students, closer to ninety she thought. Post-war baby boom, maybe?

Gryffindor received Abigail Nicola, Edith Newton, Rosalyn Ewhirst, a photograph addict named Colin Creevey, Remy Olivier, Riley Frazer and Kieran Muirhead amongst others. Heather Dodworth, Trudy Galston, Haruka Endoh, Gabriel Tate, Darrel Turner were kids who went to Hufflepuff.

A strange girl with messy blond hair named Luna Lovegood was sent to Ravenclaw, along with Margaret Ettington, Joan Kerridge, Ophelia Rushden, Nathaniel Douglass, Godfrey Midhurst and Austen Guthrie.

Then there were Slytherin, and this time Alexandra remarked more than once the looks and whispers when some boys and girls were sent into the Snakes' Den. That it happened when the boy or the girl marched arrogantly to the Sorting Hat was purely a coincidence of course. Names like Gertrude Meads, Archana Shetty, Sylvia Melville or Byron Miller were totally unknown to her, but they were some she recognised from rumours in the corridors or old issues from the Daily Prophet. William Rosier, Damon Harper, Priscilla Mulciber. Ancient, Noble, or Ancient and Noble families that had a major proportion of their numbers killed under the Death Eaters banners. And of course, both being quite recognisable with their almost platinum blonde hair, Astoria Greengrass and Lyre de Male-Foi.

A young French witch indeed, and the crossing of the Channel was not normal if the rumours spreading at lightning's speed with Hogwarts Mill were exact.

The sorting ended with "Ginevra Weasley!" being sent to "GRYFFINDOR!" and joining the rest of her family in the Lions pride. Red hair, red banners. Overall, this Sorting had presented no surprise.

While Professor McGonagall was taking the Sorting Hat on its stool away, Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his throne-seat, his silver hair and beard strangely luminescent at the light of the Great Hall candles. Alexandra felt deeply the waves of magic pouring out of the old man, strangely emanating an impression of calm and confidence.

"Welcome!" Said the old wizard looking like more than ever to a copy of Merlin or Gandalf. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things..."

The venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts had not the time to say one more word. A loud, car-like noise thundered from above, and over the stunned expressions of the entire Hogwarts population, the enchanted ceiling reflected the passage of a true, red-flashing, Flying Car over their heads with a student in Hogwarts robes hanging on to the car trunk for dear life. With stupefaction, Alexandra recognised the black, disorganised hair of Leo Black, and the red hair of Ronal Weasley trying to put an acrobatic manoeuvre with the passenger door to save the Black Heir.

That's an entrance, acknowledged a little part of Alexandra's mind in the few seconds the Car stayed in view before disappearing.

The silence in the great Hall was absolute. Then a loud, awful noise of crash resonated, evident sign the Flying Car had finished its course somewhere. A second crash echoed, and many in the assistance winced. Contact with the ground had not been a delicate affair, if the noise was any indication.

It was as if someone had lightened a fire, as conversations spiralled from every student's mouth.

"I thought Longbottom, Weasley and Black couldn't act more stupidly than last year." Snarled a Ravenclaw on her left. "I was wrong."

"Ten Galleons they are going to get away with it!" Exclaimed another boy.

Seeing the murderous face of Professor Snape as the Potions Senior Professor rushed out the Great Hall with his black robes billowing like a hell-bat, Alexandra wasn't so sure. Professor McGonagall who was following him in a series of long strides looked positively furious too. The rest of the professors at the head table, minus Lockhart and the new woman, were varying from irritated to enraged. Even Dumbledore was radiating in anger, a sort of magical violet magical aura forming around him. The three Gryffindor were clearly not going to pass a good moment.

In the chaos unleashed by this unexpected arrival, the Headmaster had to launch a few spells with his wand to restore order.

"Ahem. As I was saying before being interrupted, I am pleased to welcome two new Professors in this prestigious school this year.

Firstly, Professor Reed, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Junior Professor for the Defence Against the Dark Arts."

The brown-haired witch stood up, waved her hand and saluted and sat down, meeting a fairly warm welcome of the Hogwarts students.

"Secondly, please welcome Professor Gilderoy Lockhart who will be the Senior Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year."

This declaration was met with giggles, cheers and countless cry of delight made by the majority of the female population. Embarrassingly and to Alexandra's consternation, Hermione's was among them.

But the horror had not really begun. Gilderoy Lockhart then stood up and began to talk. Of this welcoming speech, Alexandra had to be honest, she would never be able to remember a single sentence without breaking violently something in the vicinity. Lockhart began by talking about himself, his smile, his skills, his smile, his fame, himself, his hair, his new book, his old books, himself, his hair and in the end...himself.

By the time this unbearable litany was over, Alexandra was ready to murder someone and by the looks of it, about half of the male Hogwarts students were ready to follow her in this endeavour.

"Well, I think everything of importance has been said for the evening!" Said Dumbledore in a crisped voice, which proved even the Headmaster, veteran and survivor of endless pointless speeches, had badly tolerated Lockhart's voice during these endless minutes. "Let the feast begin!"

Immediately, the goblets and the plates in the four tables began to fill themselves of delicious foods and drinks. Alexandra, more hungry than ever, began to serve herself a large part of meat and potatoes, stopping the complaints of her abused stomach, which had been forced to endure a long wait and the ramblings of Lockhart.

Glancing once from the spectacle of her dinner when the meals such as meat and vegetables disappeared to let place to the desserts, she noticed Dumbledore had disappeared from the professor's table, and that Professors Snape and McGonagall still hadn't returned. Longbottom had ruffled quite a few feathers this evening, hadn't he?

Grabbing a part of chocolate tart, she noticed the red-haired girl directly facing her was studying her attentively. After a few seconds, Alexandra remembered her name: Morag MacDougal, one of her year-mates. But with the isolation Alexandra had endured during her first year at Hogwarts, the green-eyed child could not remember having talked to her in more than five occasions. Probably less.

"I really hope I did not left chocolate on my face." She joked.

"Sorry," the other just Ravenclaw girl said. "I just wanted to see..."

"If I was going to curse you because you stared at me too many times? If I did that, I would be forced to curse all the school from dusk till dawn."Alexandra said ironically, finishing her tart.

Morag frowned. "There are rumours about you..."

"Hogwarts is full of rumours. Some of them have some basis in reality. The rest are pure fantasy, invented by students who have way too much free time and an impressive imagination."

"So the rumours you have killed Quirell and Devkins one after the other are just fantasy?"

Alexandra widened her eyes. That she had not heard before leaving Hogwarts in June. And judging by the relative silence of about one quarter of the Ravenclaw table at this moment, Morag wasn't the only one interested in the answer.

"For the record, I didn't kill Quirell." Alexandra answered in a low tone. She didn't answer the rest of the question. Openly saying you had killed one of your teachers in public, even if most of the faculty professors had likely known of the incident by the end of the night, was neither prudent nor an intelligent thing to do.

Imperceptibly, the attention of her House went elsewhere, as the Ravens realised she would not be inclined to gossip with them.

"What's with the questions anyway, Morag?" Alexandra asked, drinking a sip of apple juice. "You never tried to speak with me outside class before."

The second-year girl blushed a deep red nicely complimenting the colour of her hair, grumbling something which suspiciously sounded like "I was just curious". It was a poor lie, but Alexandra didn't insist.

Thinking rapidly, Alexandra tried to remember what she had learnt about House MacDougal. She knew Morag and her family were pure-bloods, had a siege at the Wizengamot as a Most Noble and Ancient House and were usually considered to be among the Neutrals or Non-Aligned, a faction which rarely voted in support of laws proposed by the Light and the Dark factions. House MacDougal had not acted in any military way in the last British Civil War, choosing to retreat to their ancestral lands and possessions in Ireland and let the storm pass. A strategy which didn't look so idiotic when you counted the number of other pure-blood families which had become extinct or were very near this particular threshold. This last category included one with the name Potter.

Still, all the information at her disposition gave no clue why Morag or Morag family were interested in her. One more thing, Alexandra thought, she was unlikely to have the answer any time soon, as Morag was now busy fixing her plate and eating without looking her in the eyes. As a result, Alexandra passed the end of her dinner in a relative and safe silence, a pleasant change compared to her first Sorting Feast. Maybe, this evening was going not to end badly in definitive.

After everyone had completely ate more than one what could be considered reasonable, the plates and the rest of the elements present on the tables magically disappeared one by one.

"So!" Said Headmaster Dumbledore, who had come back while the Potter heiress wasn't looking, and was now smiling naturally around at all the assistance.

"Now that we are all fed and watered I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Explosive Gums, Slime Bombs and Laxative Catnip. The full list comprises some four hundred and one items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, clearly he found humorous that the Gryffindors found new and inventive ways to break the rules of Hogwarts.

The Headmaster continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to all students and some amongst us-" he directed his attention in the direction of the Weasley Twins, "-should always remember it. The village of Hogsmeade is forbidden to all students below third year, and for those beyond third year only during some week-ends and not at their convenience. Now I believe everything of importance has been said. Time to go to bed! Chop! Chop!"

Alexandra stood up and joined the rest of the school marching towards the marble stairs. Despite the crowd, she rapidly found again her marks and found away to Ravenclaw tower where the knocker in the form of an eagle was waiting.

Two or three third-year students were already waiting before the entrance, and by their face they had failed to find the answer to the riddle. As she came in front of the riddle, the musical voice asked:

"There is a house. A person enters this house blind but exits it seeing. What is it?"

Alexandra smiled. This one was very famous no matter the world, it seems. First day of the year, the eagle went for the classics.

"A school."

"Correct."

And the door opened, letting her and the other Ravenclaws enter their common room. Seeing the atmosphere was less stormy than last year, Alexandra sat in a comfortable armchair and waited for the first-years to arrive.

A minute had not lasted that a large boy, most likely a five year or a sixth year judging by his corpulence, ran into the room announcing: "Did you hear? Longbottom, Black and Weasley flew the Flying Car from London to Hogwarts, Snape caught them after they crashed in the Whomping Willow!"

The reaction of the Ravenclaw present did not wait to erupt in a large cacophony where everyone tried to babble his point of view, most of the words being quite unflattering to Longbottom and his accomplices.

"You're not serious!"

"Who would be stupid enough to build a Flying Car?"

"I hope they get expelled!"

"I knew he was an attention-seeker brat!"

BOOM!

A small explosion had just come out the wand from Professor Flitwick, who no one in the terrible racket had heard coming.

"Enough." Said their tiny Head of House, looking a bit miffed at the awful din reigning in the Common Room a few seconds ago. "I know the spectacular entrance of Misters Longbottom, Black and Weasley has made the turn of the school already, but it is not a reason not to greet your new Housemates."

"What's the final punishment, Professor?" One of the Prefects asked timidly, clearly having still the will to fish out the latest information available.

Professor Flitwick emitted a long sigh and during an instant, looked ten years older than his usual flamboyant and jovial appearance.

"Mister Longbottom and his friends will not be expulsed, in spite of the vigorous campaign led by Professor Snape. They will have a month of detention and lost about one hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor, though."

There were some shouts of disappointment in the Ravenclaw crowd, but not many. A month of detention was good punishment, never mind that it was not going to add more neurons in the Golden Trio's skulls. One hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor was more than enough to be sure that, save another Dumbledore intervention, Gryffindor House was out of the game for long months the House Cup.

Alexandra still heard one of the Quidditch Raven players murmuring "should have expulsed him from the Quidditch team too..." She was forced to admit the broom-addicted boy had a point, Longbottom no doubt cared a lot more about his place in the Gryffindor team than losing hundreds of points to his House or doing a few detentions. Each Quidditch game gave a hundred points to its winner, and as for detentions, it would not be the first or the last the Golden Trio would be forced to do.

In the mean time, Professor Flitwick had introduced himself and had elaborated a bit about the qualities he expected from each member of Ravenclaw House. Alexandra only listened from one ear, but she noted the half-goblin and former duellist had judged good to make the speech himself and not delegate the task himself this year.

"...and then I wish you good night. Sleep well, the classes begin tomorrow. Miss Potter, one word please."

Anguish fell in her stomach, as she rose to follow her small Head of House out of the Ravens' Nest and towards his office. What sort of calamity was going to be brought upon her head this time?

Passing the door after Flitwick song in a foreign language his password, she waited for her Charms Professor to be seated before she took her place on the comfortable armchair.

"Miss Potter," began Flitwick in a voice which was clear he was not enjoying posing it at all. "The Headmaster would like to know why you haven't passed your summer at your uncle's and your aunt house."

Alexandra slightly narrowed her eyes at this affirmation. The raven-haired girl knew the director of Hogwarts was her magical guardian, but the manipulative old man had never manifested any interest in speaking to her or visiting Privet Drive once in the last eleven years. That he had done so while she was away in France or at Hermione's home was nearing 'hell froze over' in probability and went below it, especially as the Dursleys had made no mention of it when she came back from her little escapade. Granted, Petunia and Vernon didn't talk to her a lot, but they would have mentioned a wizard or a witch passing by their house, if only to add how repulsive and freakish the magical being was.

Oh, well. In doubt, apply the Slytherin operation protocol. Deny. Deny. Deny.

"With all due respect, Professor, I don't know what you're talking about." Alexandra answered in her best 'honest tone', which she knew wouldn't fool her minuscule Head of House a single second.

"Miss Potter." Sighed Flitwick. "Personally, I don't care what you're doing during the holidays as long as you do not break any law or commit crimes which fall under the authority of the Ministry of Magic or the ICW. But the Headmaster is very concerned, as the person he left to keep an eye on you reported you being away for large period of time this summer."

Alexandra made a nasty grimace at this last affirmation, anger filling her head. Dumbledore had left someone to keep an eye on her. The Headmaster dared affirm he had left someone to keep an eye on her! Where was this person when the Dursleys beat her in her childhood? Where was this person when Dudley and his gang tried their best to make her life one of pure hell? When she was beaten to have the audacity to have better marks than Dudley? When she was forced to steal to have decent clothes, food and the commodities any child took for granted long before he was able to walk?

"With due respect, Professor, " she said, not managing to keep the anger and the hate out of her voice, to the point her Head of House examined her with concern. "If the person Headmaster Dumbledore has left to keep an eye on me had done his bloody job, my so-called uncle and aunt would be in jail today for childhood abuse today."

Flitwick went very still at her accusation. Alexandra was not yet over.

"As for what I did during the holidays, you can say to my magical guardian," she underlined the last two words with all the venom she was able to muster, "that if he wants to know, he can very well pose me the question himself."

"The Headmaster has ordered me to cease your tutoring in private duel sessions if you persist in this path." Affirmed Flitwick in a voice which made clear how against and powerless he was concerning the new move made by the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"You can say to him I was at Hermione's home for most of the summer." Alexandra told her Senior Charms Professor. "Hermione will confirm." Her Gryffindor friend had accepted to be Alexandra's alibi should someone worry about her disappearance.

"Then there won't be any problem at all." Affirmed Flitwick in a more relaxed tone.

"In this case, my magical guardian will just find another excuse to justify his order to stop our sessions." Corrected Alexandra. "Either he will say I'm too advanced compared to the rest of my year-mates or something equally ridiculous but impossible to deny."

"Surely things will not come to that." Protested Flitwick. But his voice lacked any conviction when he said it. The Charms Professor was better placed than her to know it was one more attempt to destroy tutoring, apprenticeships and personal teachers from setting a foot inside the noble institution known as Hogwarts. The British school had an infamous reputation for that sort of things, starting way back in the eighteenth century. Perhaps it was not personal. Perhaps Dumbledore regarded duelling practise as something to nip in the bud to avoid foreign contamination. Not that the reasons were important in the end.

"Have you seen the buffoon we have for Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Flitwick did not even try to correct her language concerning the new Defence Professor. "Things are exactly that bad. The more I think about it, the less I am surprised to be able to defeat older students in duels. Hogwarts wizards and witches are completely unprepared to face any barely skilled opponent."

"You are certainly right." Sighed Flitwick. "But Dumbledore has the Board and the Wizengamot firmly in his grasp. Nothing I or you can do will change that. And we're not at war yet."

"War is already coming." Said Alexandra, remembering the noise of thousands goblins roasted alive and the dark inferno created by the Summon. "With its share of darkness...and atrocities."

With these last words, Alexandra rose from the armchair and left for the Common Room. The black-haired witch had no doubt the next day was going to be pure hell. Better to spend good sleep time before it. Why were the first days always such horrible moments to pass?