Azkaban Episode 4 (June 1st 2008)
(NOTE - Disclaimer time once again ladies and gentlemen! Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings.)
If Alicia’s fears about her letter writing abilities when it came to Hermione seemed unfounded that night when Harry came to the Leaky Cauldron, they were soon justified and well founded fears as each and every day passed. Each day she would get an owl back from Hermione (cursing her fortune that only Cho knew well enough to wait until she finished her letter before sending it back with Chii), and each day her letters became more and more lengthy and gibbering. She began to feel that she was truly becoming a gossiping little girl everytime she penned a letter to Hermione.
Her letters to Cho Chang were not so blathering, and she also felt more at ease speaking her mind and her feelings more openly than with Hermione. Hermione she was too flustered to do much but blither on about the day’s events, but Cho was different.
“Maybe I’m pursuing the wrong girl.” Alicia wrote in a letter once to Cho, only to get this reply : “I’ll let you know when I’m available. Keep going after Hermione for now.”
Now that was a weird response. But she did as Cho asked, and didn’t push the topic of a relationship again, at least not until she was ready for one.
The day’s activities? Not much to go over, really. She’d start with breakfast, and being her happy go lucky self again she had an easier time chatting it up with the witches and wizards than she did on remembrance day. With the weight of that event off her shoulders for another year she was her old good natured self again. Though of course some of it was show to make her time with the “locals” easier to manage, she still showed abit of real humor and good natured-ness while conversing so it wasn’t all an act.
The most interesting thing she saw was what Harry thought was a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava. Turned out to be a rather fit 30-ish year old witch with blazing pink hair. “BAD HAIR POTION!” she cried, covering her hair again.
It took a few minutes, but Alicia talked her to put her covering down and relish her new hair as a eye catching thing to get a boy (or girl’s) attention. That was yesterday. Today Alicia nearly fell over when that same witch came back in, dressed like a girl half her age and hugging the arm of another “born again” 30-ish witch with purple hair on her head. She then went on to say how she had accidentally bought the wrong “Gilded Lock-hearts” hair potion but then recommended it to her companion after she began to love the results and…
“Yup. Definitely created a monster.” she sighed, wondering just how many “born again” 30 year olds was Gildroy Lockhart going to inspire with his hair potions. The thought sent a cold shiver down Alicia’s spine, mostly because (as a human being with years added from her birth to death, and to now) she was 30-ish in years. ‘Does that make me a bad person to chase girls half my age?’ she thought as she finished breakfast and headed into Diagon Alley. She didn’t want to know the answer to that one.
For the past several days she had been wandering the alley, so much so that she now knew the entire length of Diagon Alley from back to front, even the “Darker” aspects of Knockturn (or was it Nocturne?) Alley, but mostly to indulge in her more “adult” needs.
By now, however, she had gotten a bad rep in Knockturn Alley as being abit of a “loose girl of questionable morals”, but then again she also had a lot of dirt on the regulars of the alley so they kept her “activities” to themselves. After all, it wasn’t her fault that they kept their most guilty thoughts floating at the top of their “heads” for an easy pick up from anyone sensitive enough to hear those thoughts.
As for her “loose girl” morals? It was only once this week, and not even with one of “those girls”. She once spied a “Black Widow” type witch skulking the alleys. She was quite beautiful, and used those looks to stalk male wizards where she proposition them for activities of a sexual nature, then tapped them for whatever Galleons were on them and whatever good magical items she could steal.
Alicia was in the mood, she was right there, so she simply changed her form into a male (which was easy since Ravens could take either gender form without much hassle) and took her offer. The “loose girl” thing came from those who saw the results. When the “Black Widow” came out again from a nearby small inn she was dazed, shaky in the legs, and looked as if she was just run over by the Hogwarts Express. When an unsuspecting male (who was about to ask her for her services) tried to speak to her, she simply jumped into his arms screaming “I’M SORRY!! I’LL NEVER TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MEN AGAIN!!!” (the fact that Alicia came out seconds later grinning like a cat and looking guilty as hell just dug her own grave in that particular incident).
She’ll be the first one to tell you this : she’s no angel. She doesn’t believe in false moralities, nor does she practice platitudes or false moral uprightness. She simply states that she, as a woman, has her needs. If she wants to fulfill them? Those are her priorities, and not to be judged by others. She does as she wishes, and acts as she pleases, devil be damned and to hell with whoever disagrees with her. That didn’t mean she neglected her schoolwork, however, not by a long shot. She did go to a boarding school after all, little chance to use the oft used excuse that a dragon ate her homework when trying to explain why she didn’t do said homework.
When she wasn’t spending the nights blathering to Hermione in letters, or (a few times) having a little fun with the locals, she worked on her scrolls and homework. Luckily for her she took Harry’s advice and started sitting outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor finishing her essays, which was easy on one part because Florean Fortescue himself helped them with their medieval witch burning essays (cutting out a lot of the questionable stuff from Alicia’s while keeping the spirit of it intact). He even once introduced her to a descendent of Wedelin the Weird for part of her essay.
The next day Harry asked how her paper was coming, “The fire thing must be a family addiction.” she mused, toying with her food. “She made me “burn” her four times before she gave me what I wanted.”
“So she helped you with your essay?”
“Huh?” (blushes) “Yeah. The essay. Uh-huh. Right.”
Truth of the matter was she still wasn’t finished, mostly since that wasn‘t the thing she “wanted“ from Wendy (Wedelin‘s descendant) in the first place.
The first thing Alicia wished everytime she went back to Gringotts to refill her pouch was “I wish they gave out “credit cards” here.”, feeling her tesseract pouches as she filled them with coins. One pouch for Gold Galleons, one for Silver Sickles, one for Bronze Knuts, and one for miscellaneous treasures she “pocketed” from “people”. Her money? Since she continued to “launder” the ill gains of the wicked she “exorcised” from the living there was no financial problems as she had more than enough to last her two lifetimes. Still, financial security or not she still practiced a great deal of restraint nevertheless.
“Set of solid gold Gobstones!” the merchant bragged, showing her the set. She poked at it huffing her breath at the useless things, that is until one of the stones squirted her with a nasty smelling liquid. The merchant gave her the counter-liquid to wash it off, after a gentle “reminder” from her on good customer relations when he tried to sell her the counter-liquid.
“Perfect moving model of the galaxy! Set in this indestructible glass sphere, it guarantees that you’ll never have to take another Astronomy lesson ever again!”
What Alicia told the merchant she wanted to see in one of those spheres nearly gave the man a heart attack. She decided not to ask again unless in the “proper” store.
What tested her resolve, however, came when she passed Harry at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and noticed the large crowd. She stood behind Harry, slowly moving along to get a better look at what they were all looking at. “What?” she whispered, trying to get a better view, “Somebody released a Nimbus 2002? What?!”
“Just come out -- prototype --” somebody said, “It’s the fastest broom in the world, isn’t it, Dad?”
“Irish International Side’s just put in an order for seven of these beauties! And they‘re favorites for the World Cup!”
Alicia was becoming annoyed that she heard the hype, but had yet to see the merchandise. Finally someone got out of the way and they both saw the item in question.
THE FIREBOLT This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined--- Blah, blah, blah blah. Alicia quickly sped down the list to the price. She could always figure out the optional extras when she bought one. Price on Request. Alicia’s teeth ground together as she began to tense up, her palms sweaty. Now she knew how guys felt when near an ego-rubbing vehicle or, dare she think it, broom. She looked at the flawless beauty and thought only one thing, ‘Gotta get Hermione on it.’
Briefly she let her thoughts wander away, and she imagined Hermione, naked and beautiful in the moonlight, sitting with legs crossed and eyes glittering on the broom as it floated in midair, a come hither look in her eyes as she reached her hand out to gesture for-- “ACK!” Alicia hissed, quickly spinning away and walking out of the store as fast as possible. ‘No way!’ she thought angrily, ‘She’d never do that! Stupid wet dream idea!’
Still, the thought of seducing her on such a fine broom kind of appealed to her, but she quickly shook it off. Anyway, as she figured, she already had a nice broom in her Nimbus 2001 she got the first year she was eligible to buy her own broom. And since Hermione hadn’t offered to ride barebroom yet for her she figured it was never going to happen.
Still, the thought -- She struggled with that for awhile, mostly gritting her teeth and trying to put it out of her mind.
She even asked Cho about it and she replied with a “She’s too much of a lady for such things.” but then went on to say “I’d like to see what that feels like though, one day.”
Cho Chang. A puzzle wrapped in an enigma riddled with contradicting thoughts.
Getting to know her better only made her that much harder to understand. Still, she was honest at least.
As for the idea? Sexy in wetdream but impractical in reality. The mirror didn’t seem at all interested in helping Alicia figure out if she really did look sexy sitting on her Nimbus 2001 in the buff. It just yawned and fell back asleep. “Maybe I should ask a living person next time.” she lamented, crawling back into bed to sleep.
Of course there was things that Alicia simply had to buy for school.
She went over to the Apothecary to fill out the list of potion ingredients that Snape sent her. She was, it seems, the only student at Hogwarts who wasn’t a Slytherin AND capable of having a decent conversation with Snape without being forced to speak to him.
That made sense to her since they both, after all, held secrets. She learned his the first night she returned in the second year and he bitched her, Harry and Ron out for being late and the flying car thing. He lost his temper so badly that a few random thoughts floated to the top of his mind, thoughts he normally kept hidden. It didn’t take long for her to figure out, while researching about the school’s past, what the images meant. She thought he might have been a disciple of the Darke Raven when the existence of a Darke Raven in that world came to light, but instead Snape, it seems, was once a Death Eater (one of good ole’ Voldemort’s followers).
She didn’t care abit, she was only looking for followers of the Darke Raven who might have been searching the school for the rumored Darke Raven “Heart” lying within it’s walls. Still, she didn’t miss a beat in holding it over his head like a hammer and threatening him with it. When she felt, however, she pushed him far enough? She gave him her dirty bag of secrets in return and made him a deal : they each keep the other’s secrets over their heads, and in return they become ambicle “partners” while she was at the school, keeping young “Mr. Potter” alive while staying out of each other’s way. Given no choice in the matter he agreed, and they’ve been “partners” since.
This partnership was paying off it seems now as it was with the list, however, that he also wrote “Someone told the Headmaster about your recent run in with those youths and how they were murdered. He doesn’t suspect you were involved, but I think he plans on speaking to you when you return to school, be mindful of that in case he summons you. Still, I think it best you tell me what role you played in their demises.”
Alicia wrote back “I didn’t kill them, however that’s not to say that I was saddened by their demise. They were animals, and I’m glad they’re dead. You won’t see me mourn their passing.”
Snape hadn’t written back yet. Obviously he was taken aback by her words, or just silently agreeing with her feelings. Either way? He didn’t answer and she figured the topic closed. She had to buy robes, mostly as a show since she usually used her Raven “Uniform” as her “robes” (form changed into the spitting image of Hogwarts robes), but this was about as good a time as any to dress like the “Romans”, which made sense since she usually occasionally used her robes for after baths as bathrobes, so why not use them as school uniforms for once?
And, of course, she had to buy books. After her birthday she wrote to Hermione and Ron offering to buy their books this year. This was, of course, mostly to get the chance to “buy” Hermione something, and using Ron as a “cover” so she couldn’t point to Ron just in case she noticed that Alicia only lavished Hermione with books.
“Ron needs books too.” she might have complained, or something like that.
Ron’s list was the same as her’s, so that was no shock. The shock came when she saw Hermione’s list. There was more books than the hours of the day could provide Hermione with a chance to go to all the classes these books entailed. “What the…” she rasped, looking at the list. “What kind of nutter signs up for so many classes?!?”
“…maybe she has a lot of time on her hands…” Wendy moaned from her spot on the bed, this being the night she stood over for “homework”. She promised a “refresher” lesson after she caught her breath, so Alicia was looking over the book lists while she waited for Wendy to get her second wind. The idea of all these books and the classes they went to… still, she promised she’d get the books so a promise was a promise.
When she got to Flourish and Blotts she thought for an instant the books have gone mad and started killing each other (it was that time of the year after all so maybe the books were suffering from schooltime maniac depression). In a huge iron cage she saw books trying to murder each other. “Oh, no.” she sighed wearily, “Not the murdering Monster books again.” (sure enough, each list had a request for one copy apiece) “Hagrid must have an evil streak in him to assign these books.” she lamented as she walked in. As she did, the manager came hurrying to her. “Hogwarts?” he said abruptly. “Come to get--”
“Hang on a sec.” she grumbled, shoving her lists into his hands. With a tired groan she walked over to the iron cage and stood in front of it, whipping her head back and forth to work the kinks out as she loosened up. “---miss? What are you---”
With one hand she motioned for the cage to open, with the other she waited as the books rushed out all at once. “MISS!! WHAT ARE--”
“Shut up.” she growled, quickly using her free hand to “catch” all the books as they rushed her, freezing them in place and bringing them upwards into the air. As she focused on them she thought for a second “Need a good medium, something to---” (looks down and sighs miserably) “---the things I do for love---” she groaned. Carefully, she then (with one hand levitating the books) ran two of her fingers up and down between her breasts (generating a sense similar to how she stroked book’s spine if she was working on the book), feeding that same “soft touch” into their “minds” (as it were). She then focused harder, tongue licking the air as she stimulated the books “minds” the same way she did her own book’s spine with her tongue. She then (still stimulating herself while focusing those feelings onto the books) triggered a looping spell that kept that same pleasure rippling through each book.
Finally she set them all down on the display and stopped focusing. That did it. The books were now completely docile, and would stay that way. All she had to do was mend the books and that’s when she realized she was doing it without her wand! Feeling like a total idiot for missing such a simple “trick” she quickly yanked it out and did that spell with her wand, hoping he was too dazed to notice what she was doing before.
After the books mended themselves, and he seemed too dazed to ask about earlier, she told the manager that the books were now docile and moved to catch her breath. Of course she TRIED to catch her breath, which she didn’t have long to do as the store manager nearly mauled her crying out, “GOD BLESS YOU!! GOD BLESS YOU!!” (She nearly died from suffocation). When he finally stopped smothering her he helped her get the books she needed for herself, Ron and Hermione.
Two copies of the Monster Book of Monsters being part of her list of course.
“I’m never stocking those things again!” the manager cried, helping Alicia find a book on Arithimancy, “It’s been bedlam (before you showed up of course)! I thought we’d seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility -- cost a fortune, and we never found them…”
Alicia - “You got ripped off.”
“Huh?”
Alicia - “Ripped off.” she noted as she picked up a book on, of all things, “Muggle Studies” which she put into her lot. “Those kind of books would be sorta like Predators.”
“Say what?” the manager asked, looking confused. “Predators. Like the movie?” Alicia remakred, “With Schwarzenegger, then Danny Glover in the sequel and then Aliens Vs. Predator?” (waits for a reply) “Don’t you ever get out and see a movie? Rent or buy a DVD? Anything that isn‘t magically inclined?”
“OH!” (looks embarrassed) “But what about it? You mean the books are dangerous?”
“I mean you should have received a batch of books which looked like clear whispy glass, when you open it the pages become solid. That’s how you can tell an invisible object from an empty box which is what you probably bought.” The manager excused himself and made a call, probably to a mystical lawyer (’I wonder if they call them “broomchasers“ in the mystical world‘ Alicia pondered silently), coming back seconds later to help her with her books again, thanking her again of course (this time no hug). “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yeah.” (she looks down her list, having taken care of Hermione’s specialty books) “I need three copies of Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky.”
“Ah, starting Divination, are you?” he said with a bit of a dramatic flourish. “Guess so.” Alicia muttered as she followed him, sighing resentfully as she did. In truth? She really needed a class like Divination like she needed a hole in her head. She was already a Raven so she had a talent with future sight, but apparently the class was given automatically at Year 3 so she had no choice but to take it, even if it was probably going to bore the heck out of her. He took her to the back of the shop where a small table of books set for fortune telling were set. “Here you go.” said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down three thick, black-bound books. “Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods -- palm-reading, crystal balls, bird entrails--”
“I’ll give it a shot after dinner tonight. I have a hankering for roasted chicken so I‘ll be all set.” (sighs) “Then again maybe I’ll just stick with the Hamburger Helper that the cook makes, and tries to pass off as an old Transylvanian pasta dish. Eck.” (picks up book lying to one side) “What a grim cover. The writer of this book had a lousy future indeed.”
The book was uninteresting except for the title. Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming. (‘Should have had a copy before I died.’ Alicia thought gloomily, ‘Then again--’)
“Oh, I wouldn’t read that if I were you,” the manager warned her, looking at the book in her hand. “You’ll start seeing death omens everywhere. It’s enough to frighten anyone to death.”
“Been there, done that.” she whispered, tossing the book aside. “Then I’ll just need three copies of Intermediate Transfiguration, three copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three, any book that’d make a good birthday gift for a girl who is really good at magic (Year 3) and--” (grabs a book off the shelf, rifles through the pages, and tossing the book into her pile. “This.” The manager looks down at it, “But that’s a book a lot of male customers have been demanding! It’s nothing but naughty stories and moving photos of women having sex with women and---” (blushes) “---oh.”
“Oh.” she repeated, glaring at him as her fingers brushed the title, which simply read “The Beauty of Our Love - Hogsmeades‘ Witches on Witches“. He immediately backed off to find her books, adding “Lots of women read it too! You know, because we get a lot of them here. And they love that book. Highly recommended. The stories of passion are very detailed and beautiful while the pictures are very erotic without being perverted or degrading to the women and---”
“Quit while your WAY behind already.” she finally told him, shaking her head. As he rung her up (adding “The Big Book of Little Known Useful Spells Vol. 1”) she asked the obvious, “Do any lesbians really shop here?”
“Why not? Though I wouldn‘t know which witch is which, it‘s not like they confide those things to me, they just come here to buy books.” he remarks, “I sold quite a few copies of that book to women since it’s written by women so it’s nothing--- oh!” (frowns) “Your thinking of those blokes. The ignorant ones who--- yeah.” (nods his head) “I saw their ‘work’ and heard their ‘ideas’. Bunch of ignorant thought if you ask me. People should be allowed to live and love as they please, not having a bunch of slack jawed whiney wand wavers like that with no class pester them for it. Bunch of jerks if you ask me.”
“Agreed.” She paid him, and pecked him softly on the cheek for being a nice man, then left the shop with her purchases. Still, the thought of those “blokes” rubbed into her as she walked. Still, it lingered as she went back to her room and collapsed into her bed.
She didn’t want to think about it anymore, about ignorance or how racist it was everytime they referred to Muggles, or to -- “I don’t care anymore.” she growled, rolling over onto her stomach to bury her face in her pillow, “I hate my life.”
“What, dear? I didn’t understand that, you have to speak up.” the mirror said with a slight bit of concern, “Your not going to off yourself, are you? I remember when the mirror two rooms down nearly had a bloke who did that by accident, wouldn’t stop panicking everytime somebody looked dead to it and --”
‘Is silence worth seven years back luck.’ Alicia thought as she regarded the mirror briefly.
* * * * * *
The days passed, and the wait for Hermione was becoming unbearable.
She finally sent, after a few days, her “last” owl saying that she was on her way. Still it seemed to be too long. As the days drew closer to the trip back to Hogwarts she began to see students from the school arriving at Diagon Alley for their school supplies.
The last day before departing was the worst and the best though, in her opinion.
The worst of it was being cornered by Oliver Wood at the ice cream shoppe and nearly talked to death about Quidditch moves. Of course he couldn’t stop going on and on about how she should be more like Potter. More like Potter this, more like Potter that, made her want to kick Wood in the Little Wood just to shut him up. The worst (if that wasn‘t worst enough), however, came when Florence came out and remarked on her cute boyfriend (which nearly sent her into ballistic mode), but at least Wood got the point and left her alone (for now at least, but she knew like any “good“ dimestore villain “he‘d be back“).
She met other members Gryffindor house, but only a handful she knew to any degree (moreso from he lacking social skills than any attempt to be a reclusive in school). In terms of friends she only had a tight woven circle of friends, followed by a medium circle of good acquaintances, and then a wide circle of people who feared her, or just kept their distance because they didn’t like her too much. She wasn’t the darling of the school, nor it’s social outcast, she was simply one of them. She had her own friends, her own enemies, and that made her basically normal in every sense -- except this year.
People she never talked to seemed to take note of her, if not to speak to her than just to look at her and speak about her behind her back. For some reason everyone seemed to note her more, and it seemed to go back to what she learned earlier that she was going to be abit more noticed in school than before. But how--? ‘With my luck somebody’s passing around an illegal sphere of me and some loose morals witch making out. With my luck it’s Wendy since I have no idea how much of a egomonger she is when it comes to dubious fame.’ she thought to herself, taking a rather low view of her limited “fame” without even knowing why people were more intent on looking at her than they were last year.
There was, of course, a few bright spots, one of which being her running into the cute couple of Longbottom/Myrial (May to everyone she knew). She ran into Neville (the real Neville) and May outside of Flourish & Blotts, May (a girl Neville’s height with small pointy elfin ears and beautiful blonde hair (from her Amazonian side) flowing down her back) gently scolding Neville for losing his booklist. As he went in to get their books May took Alicia aside. “I told him, and I showed him my true elfin form!” she grinned, flashing a V for Victory sign, “And he STILL LOVES ME!! My precious loves me!”
Alicia, confused, thought about what she said for a second before -- “OH! You mean you -- you act like a Amazonian the way you prattle on! Not like your mutli sexed or any--”
“Don’t be mean!” she pouted, looking down at her feet as she did, “It was sweet of him to still accept me as a lover despite the shock it must have been for him.”
“It would have been a worst shock if you pulled your skirt up and showing him a thing only Amazonians and certain humanoids have! No doubt in my mind, probably would have shocked a few years off his life expectancy.” Alicia murmured, only to receive a glaring glance from May. May, after all, was extremely sensitive about her elfin body. She, when in “true“ form, was a tall statuesque young woman with ample everything (which Alicia liked to tease her about even if it made May majorly pissy). “You‘re supposed to be my “parole“ officer, not here to find the perfect mate! My misery, after all, isn’t supposed to be your “Love Connection”! Anyway, you give him the “grand tour“ of your assets yet? At least help him lose his virginity sometime soon!” May’s face drops and turns serious, “My Neville’s a gentleman!” she growled, waving an accusing finger at Alicia, “When we’re ready we’ll explore our sexualities when it’s time and NOT before. Just because your so loose with your legs--”
“Alright, alright, give me a break.” Alicia sighed, shaking her off as she turned her back over to Neville (who was waving for her from inside the bookstore). “Thank god for sweet “little” girls like May --” (thinks about it for a second) “-- good thing she still goes around in her “second“ form though, I don‘t think anyone‘s ready to see Neville with a tall blonde elfin goddess as a girlfriend just yet. It‘d probably kill Malfoy at first sight.”
There was, of course, other people she met, some of who she actually knew.
She ran into her fellow Quidditch teammates (who were doing their best to avoid Wood since he was on the warpath today), and most of them were found ogling the Firebolt. Even her more sensible female teammates were ogling it, which was a real surprise to Alicia since she never thought them as “broom fanatics”. All and all though? She kept any questions as to why they were ogling it to herself.
She, of course, eventually found the people she was really looking for.
It was outside of the ice cream shoppe she’d been spending her days with Potter studying that she finally saw the person she was waiting for. Hermione Granger. She was presently talking to Harry and Ron (who hadn’t noticed her yet), but she soon heard her opening when Harry asked if they got all their supplies yet. “I already got the books, as I promised.” she chipped in, sliding into a chair between Hermione/Ron as she nodded to each one. “I’ll give them to you once we get back to the Leaky Cauldron. Though…” (her face turns serious) “I have to say that your list baffled me the most. I mean the amount of books implies a lot of classes! Can you…”
“Well, I AM taking more new subjects than you, aren’t I?” she remarked. “Don’t be all flippant with me on it.” Alicia countered, feeling her cheeks grow rosey red from Hermione’s stern expression aimed right at her, “You got all the stuff we have, PLUS Arithmancy (whatever that is), Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -- and that I can’t figure out because you need Muggle Studies like I need a refresher course in Lesbian 10...” (Alicia quickly shut her mouth and went an even brighter red that went from face to toes. Hermione, however, either didn’t notice or chose to “ignore” it as she picked up the conversation where Alicia “dropped” it). “It’ll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view,” she said earnestly.
“Oh, sure. That.” Alicia sputtered, trying to regain her composure, “If you like the view from a purely ignorant racist POV then you’re in for a real treat with this class. Yes, sir.” (sighs irritably as Ron picks up the slack) “Are you planning on surviving on air and sunlight alone because there’s no time to do anything else, let alone feed yourself or get any sleep, with that schedule.” Hermione, ignoring him, checked her purse. “Thanks to Alicia’s generous help I have quite abit of Galleons left.” she announced, checking her purse’s contents. “It’s my birthday in September, and Mum and---?” At this moment Alicia popped the book, wrapped in beautiful gold wrapping and tied with a bow, out of a tesseract gem on her uniform and quickly shoved it forward towards Hermione squeaking “Happy Birthday!” with her face blushing madly, and her eyes shut.
She felt a cold chill down her spine, and gritted her teeth at her rash action. She didn’t even have a chance to prepare, or to do it properly. She just wanted to give it the moment she heard it was her birthday coming up. Rash, impulsive, without thinking a thing out. That’s her alright. Still, Hermione accepted it graciously and looked genuinely happy with the gift. She hugged it to her chest and said she’d treasure it. With a little bit of the weight lifted from her shoulders she asked Hermione what she was going to get herself with her Galleons. “How about a nice book?” said Ron innocently. “No, I don’t think so, and Alicia already got me a nice book so -- I really want an owl.” (Alicia almost groaned out loud at the decision, an OWL, sheesh) “I mean, Harry’s got Hedwig and you’ve got Errol --”
“No I haven’t,” said Ron as a matter of fact. “Errol’s a family owl. All I’ve got is Scabbers.” (suddenly he pulls his pet rat out of his pocket), “Speaking of which I want to get him checked out.” he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. “I don’t think Egypt agreed with him.”
“Don’t blame him.” Alicia whispered, looking carefully at the rat, it’s body thinner than usual with a telltale droop in his whiskers showing how rather “off” it was in it’s health. “Did you try out the Magical Menagerie yet?” Alicia offered, motioning towards the side of the street opposite of the ice cream palour, “Figure they could help you out while Hermione gets her owl.” (she took care not to drool out the word “owl” or make it sound like she was pissed.) Noticing Alicia’s foul mood, Hermione smiled, “I’ll get one that’ll remind me of you everytime I see it, as a thank you for the lovely present.”
This brought Alicia’s frown up to a smile, and brightened her mood. Even an owl started to sound pretty good as long as it was beautiful and noble, because it would always remind Hermione of herself, and gave her hope that Hermione was getting the hints that she was interested in her. Of course it wouldn’t but Alicia could dream, couldn’t she?
* * * * * *
The first thing Alicia noticed when she stepped into the Magical Menagerie behind the trio was that it was quite cramp inside. In truth there was not much room inside the shop, every inch of the walls being hidden behind some form of cage. It was smelly, the noise was unbearable, and it took a lot of effort on Alicia’s part to remain focused as she walked into this virtual assault on the senses.
The first face to peer at her from behind the counter didn’t help her any either, it was the purple haired witch she “helped” some days ago. She was already advising a wizard on a sickly (by appearance more than by it’s health) looking double-ended newts (with an additional head where it’s butt should have been --- whichever end that could have possibly been). As she helped him with that, the four waited behind the wizard, examining cages. The entire store did nothing for Alicia whatsoever. In fact, the store was beginning to get on her nerves in a general and overall sense.
The pair of enormous purple toads that gulped down the dead blowflies made Alicia nauseous. The gigantic tortoise with it’s jewel-encrusted shell that sat by the window, glittering in the sunlight that streamed into Diagon Alley? That was just too weird for Alicia’s tastes, too shiny too. The poisonous orange snails that were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank only served to creep Alicia out majorly. As for the fat white rabbit that kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise? Alicia was tempted to purchase it just so she’d have the unique pleasure of strangling it to death with her bare hands.
There were, of course, cats of many different colors and breeds. They mostly made Alicia thankful that she didn’t have an allergic reaction to cats. There were her favorite animal, of course, the ravens. But these ravens were far too noisy and nowhere as dignified or perfect as her Chii was. These ravens were just bad mannered ruffians, not for her. There was a basketful of odd looking custard-colored furballs that were humming a strange song (if Alicia didn’t know any better, she would have sworn that she was staring at a giant basketful of Tribbles. She didn’t like Tribbles. No sir, she didn’t like them in the least. So these things of course turned her off in a major sense from just reminding her of Tribbles).
On the counter a vast cage of sleek black rats sat, and they were playing a rather odd skipping game with one of the rat’s tails as the “rope”. By the time Alicia finally noticed what was going on, Ron and Harry was already up front and the witch was taking care of Scabbers. She listened to hear Hermione making her selection, wondering what kind of beautiful owl she’d pick. So lost in her thoughts she barely noticed the gigantic orange thing fly from the top of the highest cage, land hard on it’s head (ouch), and then leap like a guided missile right at Scabbers. “NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!” the witch cried out, but almost immediately the entire place became a madhouse.
Scabbers ran off, Ron and Harry scurried to find it, the witch clung onto the strange cat like mad trying to hold it down -- and Alicia? She followed Ron/Harry out, having decided at the start of the chaos to quickly step back out of harm’s way and watch the events unfold without actually becoming an active participant in the madness.
It took ten minutes for Ron to find Scabbers. For some reason, no matter how hard she tried, Alicia couldn’t get a lock on Scabber’s mind. It was as if he was a blank “void” in the middle of this large ocean of open minds. Still Ron found him, and that’s what mattered. Ron had found him beneath a wastepaper bin outside of Quality Quiddich Supplies. This fact confused Alicia. She had passed that wastepaper bin FIVE times, each time scanning it as she passed, yet she felt nothing of Scabbers. ‘Maybe he hid under there just as Ron found him.’ she thought, brushing off her strange inability to “connect” with Scabbers as nothing to become overtly concerned about.
As for Ron? He merely stuffed the trembling terror filled rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head as he did. “What was that?”
“Cat, Ron. It was a cat -- or a furry version of a guided missile,” Alicia remarked, thinking back on the bizarre creature, and how it could respond so quickly after taking a header into the counter and smacking itself upside it’s own head. “Take your pick. I’m personally swaying towards “guided missile” myself, but that’s just me.”
“Where’s Hermione?” Ron asked, to which Harry replied “Probably getting her owl--” before his voice fell away into a dead sort of silence. It seemed that, at that moment, he saw Hermione and saw her “animal”, and that is what fell him so quickly into a stunned silence. It was Hermione alright, but she wasn’t holding an owl as she exited the Magical Menagerie. Far from it. Her arms was, instead, clamped tightly around the self-same enormous ginger cat that tried to turn Scabbers into a mid-day snack. Alicia’s heart sank at the sight of the monstrous thing that passed for a cat, and felt rather dejected by Hermione’s choice.
“You bought that monster?” Ron sputtered, his mouth sputtering as he stared at it in confusion. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she went on, blathering about the thing as if it was the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world. But to Alicia? It only added insult to injury that the thing was not only a monstrously disgusting creature, that it also had to be a “he” as well. That just seemed to push all her buttons, yet she still managed to keep a slightly disturbing “smile” on her face.
The cat’s ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but the creature the fur was attached to was rather bowlegged and it’s face looked grumpy and oddly squashed (most likely from it’s habit of “table diving” which often resulted in it landing face first into the countertop). Anyway as long as Scabbers remained hidden the cat seemed quite content to purr contentedly in Hermione’s arms. Still, the implications of Hermione’s “promise”, and the thing she brought out with her, only dug deeply into Alicia’s tender feelings like a red hot knife through exposed flesh. In fact she was so put out by this that she ignored their talking all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, pouting miserably (though keeping her “smile” on her face). They found Mr. Weasley inside, sitting in the bar reading the Daily Prophet. “Harry! Alicia!” he said, smiling as he looked up. “How are you two?”
“Fine, thanks,” said Harry, to which Alicia merely nodded her head and said a quick greeting, as they all joined Mr. Weasley at the table with all their shoppings in hand. As they all sat down Mr. Weasley put down his paper, which Alicia looked at briefly noting the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at them. “They still haven’t caught him, then?” Harry asked. “No,” Mr. Weasley confirmed, looking rather grave as he spoke, “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far.”
“Would we get a reward if we caught him?” asked Ron, which nearly shocked the hell out of Alicia as he did, “It’d be good to get some…” She hit him upside his head and snarled, “ARE YOU MAD?” she hissed, viciously tapping two fingers down on the picture of Sirius as she spoke in her harsh tone, “This guy is a certified whack-job and killer! The only thing you’ll catch is your death if you messed with him.”
“She’s right,” Mr. Weasley added, his face looking rather strained at Alicia’s outburst. “Black’s not going to be caught by a 13-year-old wizard. Mark my words, it’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get him back.”
The mention of Azkaban brought briefly back memories of the place to Alicia. She had seen it only once, but it was enough for her. The place was dismal. Not horrific like a bad cult horror movie, but disturbing in a clean, antiseptic nightmare future prison way.
The walls, floors, everything was bathed in a sickly green light, and everything was far too clean. It was so clean that Alicia almost felt that she could eat off the floor and not worry about becoming ill or anything. Each “cell” was sealed off with a glass “door” which allowed unrestricted visuals into the cell, which held one person each who looked like they had the life sucked out of them and the prison was only being used to hold their lifeless husks. Each prisoner inside was a disturbing vistage of madness, laid out on their bed staring listlessly into space as if their very souls were sucked out by Azkaban.
One cell, however, caught Alicia’s attention the most. It was housing two, not one.
The two, who were husband and wife, laid in their bed naked and seemed to be quite sexually active most of the time. It seemed the only thing they did all day was eat, sleep and have sex. Their eyes were as disturbing as everyone else’s, and their “enthusiasm” for sex was scary by the human guards term of the word “scary” because nobody bothered to watch. They all kept their distance. Even the “Dementors” kept their distance, preferring the quieter prisoners to these two who did everything with great and frightening energy.
That’s why she did what she did, when she…
Her memories stopped as Mrs. Weasley entered, laden with shopping bags followed by the “Terrible Twins” of Fred & George. Now it was no great secret that Alicia didn’t like Fred & George very much, but they seemed to have a strange fascination towards her. A fascination that seemingly bordered on the illegal, the way they seemed to fixated on her at times. The only thing Alicia knew of their fascination with her was that she didn’t want any part of it, period. And that’s all she ever wanted to know about their “liking” for her. Right behind those three was Percy, then Ginny (the youngest and only girl of the family).
Ginny, who had a major crush on Harry, seemed even more embarrassed than usual when she saw him, having no doubt remembered how he was her “Knight in Shining Armor” when he saved her from the temporarily “resurrected” “dupe” of “Lord Voldemort”. She went quite red (even redder than Alicia was earlier when she slipped up outside of the ice cream palour) and muttered a quick “hello” without looking at Harry. Young “love”. Alicia couldn’t help but smile inwardly though she still felt rather moody on the outside. A condition which only worsened when Percy stepped forward. Percy, for his part of the situation, was rather disturbing towards Harry (and in a sense to Alicia as well) as a counterbalance to Ginny’s full body blush girl-ish embarrassment as he held out his hand solemnly to Harry as if it was the first time they met. “Harry. How nice to see you.”
“Hello, Percy.” said Harry, trying not to laugh as they shook hands. Next, he turned to Alicia and repeated the process, “Alicia. Pleasure to meet…”
“Cut the crap, Perce.” Alicia muttered, battering his hand aside as her mood soured even worst than it was a minute ago. “Really not in the mood.” Of course George & Fred simply had to get into the act, bumping Percy aside as they “assaulted” Harry. “Harry!” Fred started, bowing deeply, “Simply splendid to see you, old boy---”
“Marvelous,” George added, bumping Fred aside in turn and seizing Harry’s hand quickly. “Absolutely spiffing.” Percy scowled, and so did Alicia. “That’s enough, now.” said Mrs. Weasley firmly, only to have herself set upon by the two. “Mum!” said Fred as though he’d only just spotted her, seizing her hand as he did. “How really corking to see you…”
“CUT IT OUT!!” Alicia finally yelled, her eyes starting into their “burn” cycle, the whites of the eyes slowly glowing. “I said that’s ENOUGH,” Mrs. Weasley firmly repeated as she put her shopping bags down into an empty chair, reaching a hand out to Alicia, touching her shoulder softly. “You alright?” It took a few seconds, but she simmered down, calming herself to the point she could talk without growling every word. “I’m fine.” she sighed, smiling abit as she beheld Mrs. Weasley in her eyes. It never failed. Just being near Mrs. Weasley always made Alicia feel abit better about the world, and her mood lightened abit in her presence. If she was only younger she’d so take her in an instant… aghh… (Alicia blushed) ‘What the hell am I thinking?!‘ she reprimended herself. ‘Should never repeat that to Ron. He’d so murder me for having inappropriate thoughts about his mum.’ “Oh, hi Ron. Me? Nothing me, I’ve just been thinking about how much I’d love to shag your mum if she was younger. By the way, how’s International Quidditch these days?”
She turned towards Harry, smiling, and greeted him. The buzz was all about Percy’s new rank as Head Boy, but Alicia wasn’t listening. Her mind was wandering aimlessly. She felt something in the back of her head and smiled. Cho Chang was nearby now. She could “feel” her presence faintly in the back of her mind. She told Alicia once that she always came here a day early and stood with relatives in London before taking the train, so that she was always on the Hogwarts Express before everyone else. She had been anticipating this “feeling” ever since she started “looking out” for Cho a few days ago.
It took the sound of Ginny’s giggling to bring her back to the real world. “You want to set a better example for your sister!” snapped Mrs. Weasley, to which Percy replied “Ginny’s got other brothers to set her an example, Mother, I’m going to change for dinner---”
Good examples, at this remark Alicia began to laugh. Low at first, then it started to grow. Percy, staring at Alicia oddly as if she just snapped, simply turned and went upstairs. George heaved a sigh. “We tried to shut him in a pyramid,” he told Harry, “But Mum spotted us.”.
To Be Continued
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Azkaban Chapter 3
Azkaban Chapter 3 (June 1st 2008)
(NOTE - Disclaimer time once again ladies and gentlemen! Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings.)
She didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to converse. Didn’t even want to get to her destination right away. She just paid her galleons and sulked in one of the beds as the bus went on it’s way oblivious to everything and everyone around her.
She didn’t pay attention to how the bus jumped seemingly hundreds of miles with each “BANG”, or how things just seemed to leap out of the bus’ way (to make up for the driver’s occasional habit to ride the bus upside the sidewalks instead of the streets). She didn’t even pay attention to who got on with her. She was just in a bad mood, period.
“I was born with a bad mood.” she whispered to herself.
“No arguments here.”
The voice, damningly familiar and damningly coy, drew her attention to a bed next to her. On it was a rather fit asian woman, dressed in a black uniform. Her arms were at rest folded across her chest, a thin smile etched across her face. “You did seem to be rather off back there. Must be that time of the year I suppose.”
Alicia frowned severely at her “bunkmate“, “What would you know, Yamanaka.”
“You’d be surprised.” Keiko Yamanaka, the 7th Judgement muttered, “I don’t ever remember anyone back home exiling you, yet you seem to be whining about that to a few people here and there how you were sorely treated back home.”
Alicia - “It would have came to that.”
“With you everything would come to a bad end.” Keiko retorted, “You have a bad habit of expecting the worst. Though I suppose it also makes you feel safer from disappointments, especially since you always do seem to bring out the worst in a situation when you fully set that “Beautiful Mind” of your’s to it I suppose.”
Alicia scoffs at this. “Thanks for being the dark acid rain cloud in the horizon, Yamanaka.”
“No problem.”
Silence envelops them for a few seconds as they lie there staring at the ceiling, then, “How’s life?” Keiko asks. “Other than the homicidal pissy fits you throw now and again how is it?”
Alicia - “Same old thing. How’s your life.”
Keiko - “Same old, same old.”
Alicia - “That bad, huh?”
Keiko - “Same to you.”
More silence. Finally Keiko huffs her breath and sits upright, “Look I don’t know why you feel so persecuted over what happened, but it’s none of my business to tell you that you aren’t as hated as you’d like to think you are.”
“I just don’t want to think about it.” she sighs, rolling over to not have to look at Keiko, her “tormentor“. “Well that would be such a beautiful convenience if you could not think about it, wouldn’t it?” Keiko prodded.
“And what’s the problem with that, Keiko?!”
“Nothing. Nothing.” Keiko sighed, “It’s your life so you want to live it that way I have no problem with that. Still, you’re the only one who seems to let it rip into yourself over and over again so blame us for your shortcomings.”
“No I’m not.”
“You almost ripped those three boys in half back there, you sure you’re not---”
“WHAT THEY DID WAS WRONG!!” she screamed, shocking the two in front abit, nearly causing the driver to swerve into a tree which barely managed to jump out of the way. “I know that.” Keiko countered in an even tone, “But in light of your abilities you can’t go about slaughtering the “infidels” who don’t live up to your high standards of…”
“WHAT HIGH STANDARDS!!” Alicia yelled, eyes burning. “Don’t give me--”
Keiko - “Even I don’t expect ignorance to disappear overnight. It’s an unrealistic expectation of those who live with bias. But still, you could have handled it---”
“And how would YOU have handled it?!” Alicia spat out, spinning about on the bed to come face to face with Keiko, both sitting upright. “Don’t you sit there preaching to me from on high that you could have done better than me, because I know you.”
Silence once again separates the two for a little bit, “Maybe your right. But at least I wouldn’t have sent a highly charged plasma disc through a building! What if it hurt someone? Brought the building down? What then? Those discs don’t exactly stop on a dime and you weren’t in the best of mind to stop it that quickly---”
“I could have stopped it.”
“---you weren’t in the right state of mind to stop it!” Keiko finished, growling her words over Alicia’s denial. “You were so messed up that you would have let that disc fly regardless, devil be damned who or what was in front of it!”
“Do you think I would have…”
Keiko - “I KNOW you would have, and you did if it wasn’t for that Mughi guy who---”
Suddenly Alicia face scrunched abit, “Who?“
“Mughi. Mughi. That guy with the funny spellcraft eye that swivels around like it‘s juiced on ten cups of coffee a day!“ (Alicia begins to laugh) “Mughi and… what?!?” Keiko asks, looking flustered, “What’s so funny??”
“MOODY!” Alicia gasps, her laughter growing, “His name is Moody, not Mughi!”
Keiko looks at her oddly as she doubles over, laughing now hysterically. “Wasn’t that funny… “Moody“, “Mughi“, what‘s the difference.”
The next five minutes end up being lighter in mood with her laughing, easing tensions. By the time she recovers she turns to notice that Keiko was gone. On her bed a note.
“Alicia Spinner” (-_-) (“Spinnet, loser, Spinnet.”)
“It wasn’t that funny. Get over yourself.”
“But I didn’t come here to harass you, you know. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK. Despite what you think I don’t blame you for what happened at the end. I’m just glad you’re OK and over her. It’s better this way anyway. I hope you find happiness with whoever you choose as your soulmate in this world.
Best (signed Keiko Yamanaka):”
Alicia sighs and tucks the note in her tessearct pouch, lying back down to catch her breath (occasionally snickering everytime she thought of “Moody”/”Mughi”).
So much so that she once again lost track of who was getting onboard. It wasn’t until she happened to turn her head that she saw--- “YOU?? H--” he quickly clamps her mouth shut, sitting up quickly to do so, before she finished saying the name “Harry Potter”, his grip is rather tight for some reason tonight -- too tight in fact. She stares at him awkwardly, his hand still clamped on her mouth. He motions for her silence then whispers “Sorry.”
“Mmpmmpmmp. Mpmpmpm---”
“I can’t explain it now. I just--- I have to get out of here---I---” he suddenly stops when he notices Alicia waving her arms in a panic. He quickly uncovers her face (hand covered too much) and let’s her breath again. “GASP!!” (she rolls over) “I know I died once but let’s not go through that again---”
“?” (Harry’s confused, so she decides to drop it.) “Never mind.” she grumbles, turning her attention back to Harry. “What are you--- WAIT!!” (hands up to shield her face) “Not that again!” (sighs) “Alright, alright. Never mind.”
As the two lie silently on the bed, Alicia began thinking again and one thought came to her mind. ‘I’ll bet my pocket change that it has something to do with the Dursley. Rutty bunch of racists I’ve ever seen in my---’
“That man!”
Alicia’s head spins around, looking towards the source of the voice, Harry, “He was on the Muggle news!”
Briefly Alicia had a sudden and most peculiar thought. She imagined Sirius Black, dressed up in the most becoming dress, twirling about at the sound of “That man!”
THAT MAN (in color)
Alicia stifles her giggles. ‘Eck. Complete with background music--- better not laugh, they might think I’m psychotic to laugh about a convicted criminal.’ (a few more giggles though just because)
“You oughta read the papers more, Neville.”
‘Neville?’ she thought, looking about almost expecting to see the forgetful boy and his half elfin (sweet as heck but abit scary in her sweet ways) girlfriend, “May”, who was sent mostly to spy on her at Hogwarts (but ended up mostly following Neville around much to her great relief). It then dawned on her that they were talking about Harry. She only then began to realize the depth of his fear if he wasn’t even telling people who he was.
She rolled off her bed to come up next to Harry, looking over his shoulder as he read.
The picture that accompanied the report didn’t move. It took awhile for Alicia to notice that it was, in fact, a moving picture --- only that the subject on it didn’t move an inch.
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, (at this section the image shifted to what looked like a moving press conference as Fudge answered questions while trying to shake his reporter “shadows” that followed him through the halls of the Ministry building) this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”
The newspaper went on to say “Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.” (a still of Prime Minister Tony Blair (‘I thought he got replaced?’ Alicia thought to herself) came up next)
“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know.” said an irritable Fudge as the image shifted back to his retreat from the media. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it --- who’d believe him if he did?”
The newspaper went on: “While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a type of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.”
The image reverts back to that of Black once again.
Alicia stares at the image, having already memorized it from news reports. Only the eyes seemed to contain any sign of life on the picture, and even they didn’t move.
He looked like someone that even Alicia had misgiving about running into in any circumstances, be it dark alleyway or broad daylight surrounded by a hundred Judgements as backup.
“Scary-lookin’ fing, inee?” said Stan, the conductor, who had been watching the two read.
“He murderered thirteen people? With one curse?” Potter said in shock.
“Yup,” Stan shot off as if it didn’t mean much to him, “in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?”
At that Alicia grabbed the paper and stared at the image intensely.
“Ar,”
The picture was indeed dark, and scary, but the man in the image? He looked far too intelligent and smart to have done something so stupid like kill 13 people in broad daylight. There was something about his eyes which---
“Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-’Oo,” Stan said.
“What, Voldemort?”
“Voldemort would approve -- uh, “Neville“.” Alicia responded, tapping the page, “Looks like his---?” stops as the bus swerves hard, almost tossing her from her bed, causing her to throw her arm out grab something to keep from rolling off.
“You two outta your tree?” yelped Stan, to which Alicia growled “WHAT?!”
“Choo say ‘is name for?”
Harry apologized, but Alicia refused, tossing the paper back to Stan and calling him a baby for being so afraid of a name. They talked to Harry in hushed whispers the rest of the ride, mostly because Alicia had hurt Stan’s feelings. “Big deal.” she griped, “It’s only a name.”
Alicia didn’t have to listen anyway, she simply opened her mind to his and picked off the images he was ‘feeling’ as he talked. Nothing too hard for her to do.
The images she saw made her think.
Image of Voldemort, crumpling under his own spell in a overtly dramatic mannerism while standing in front of a glowing baby. It had to be Harry’s “defeat” of Voldemort (though she thought it was rather over the top for “Harry” to have been standing in his crib waving Voldemort down as he fell, Stan seemed to have had a lively imagination).
Newsclippings and reports on wizarding news of the capture of Voldemort supporters.
Image of Black, cornered on a busy street, going down fighting (wand striking out at his enemies). Death. Destruction. Then he started to laugh.
It was silent, because Stan never heard Sirius Black speak so he didn’t have a voice to put with the laughter, so it was rather errie to see this scene play out. Just to be sure she watched it a few more times, but then gave up.
‘Too colorful.’ she thought to herself. The images in his mind were the “colorized”, sensationalized recollections of a man who reads the newspapers and overtly dramatized the events within them. There was no factual information to be gained from his “account” of the situation. In a moment she supposed if she did some background and found an actual eyewitness, she could then scan his or her thoughts and get a better peek. But, then again, didn’t she say promise that she was through with “saving” the world after the chaos last year at Hogwarts?
‘There’s got to be a better way to find a significant other than this way.’ she lamented.
Briefly an image of Azkaban came up, and she remembered that she hadn’t “disconnected” herself from his thoughts. She did that and came back to reality. The rest really didn’t interest her since Stan didn‘t even get Azkaban right in his mind.
Still, the brief memory of Azkaban made her remember the Dementors.
She had only seen them once, and she was in her worst mood then. When Hagrid was taken there. She had been frustrated, angry, and overtly pissed that everyone was being so easily manipulated by Lucius Malfoy. That just got her anger up.
She used what power she had (which wasn’t as much as it was now post her receival of a new Raven’s “heart” and Familyar Cloak) to travel there (teleport) and made a big show to threaten the Dementors. The guards were miffed at her arrival, and Hagrid looked embarrassed at her boldness, but the Dementors were intrigued. They followed her as she walked Hagrid to his cell, and then stopped. When she turned to look at them, eyes burning red, they drifted away.
It was on her way out she saw something that interested her. Something that got her thinking---
Stan (who apparently had to speak to her because it was his job) woke her out of thought. “where abouts in London?”
“Diagon Alley.” she whispered, her thoughts fading back to Azkaban and her discovery.
But that didn’t last long because a few shaky moves and twists later and they were there with a thunderous BANG to announce their arrival.
“Thanks,” Harry said to Ern, jumping down the steps, helping Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig’s cage onto the pavement. Alicia right behind him.
“Well,” said Harry. “Bye then!”
Alicia moved to join him, only to realize that Stan wasn’t moving. His eyes were firmly fixed at something, or someone, ahead. She looked up, and saw him.
“There you are, Harry.”
Alicia saw him the minute she looked out the bus, but for Harry it was too late as he felt a hand on his shoulder. At that exact same moment, Stan shouted “Blimey! Ern, come ‘ere! Come ‘ere!”
‘For God’s sake don’t act so excited!’ Alicia thought to herself gloomily as she stepped off the bus and approached Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. As she did this, Stan leapt onto the pavement besides them. “What didja call Neville, Minister?” he asked in an excited tone.
Fudge, a rather portly little man (yet with an air of power about him) in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked at Stan oddly. He was worn out, looked rather tired and cold, yet he still had that air of power about him which came from his mantle as Minister.
“Neville?” he repeated, frowning as if he couldn’t understand why Stan would say such a thing, “This is Harry Potter.”
“I knew it!” Stan shouted gleefully, almost instantly causing Fudge to turn pale, no doubt regretting that he even mentioned that to Stan. “Ern! Ern! Guess ‘oo Neville is, Ern! ‘E’s ‘Arry Potter! I can see ‘is scar!” (his eyes suddenly turned onto Alicia, who suddenly felt quite anxious to leave the alleyway ASAP) “What is it?!”
“YOU!!” Stan shouted, suddenly grabbing Alicia’s right arm trying to force the sleeve of her shirt up. She quickly shoves him back and screams, “STOP THAT!!” (obviously they were looking for her raven tattoo which was making the rounds ever since she the end of last year after her fight with the Darke Raven, when she came back upstairs in her tattered robes (her uniform safely “tucked” back into subspace), her right arm exposed showing her tattoo). (‘Guess I should be glad it wasn’t a breast tattoo.’ she thought briefly.)
But why such an excitement over a tattoo was something Alicia couldn’t fathom. She just knew people wanted to see her raven tattoo, that’s it. It was 20 or so the first week, and then a steady 1-4 each week afterwards. Maybe they were just fond of tattoos.
“Yes,” Fudge finally interrupted, his patience with Stan growing thin (a feeling Alicia could relate to wholeheartidly) “well, I’m very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now---”
Fudge, making sure not to lose Harry, skillfully increased pressure on his arm to maneuver him inside the pub. Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, his stooping figure coming through the door bearing a lantern, eyed the crowd outside. “You’ve got him, Minister! Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?”
“Perhaps a pot of tea,” said Fudge carefully, slowly manuvering Harry into the pub. Behind them there was a loud scraping and puffing, as Stan & Ern appeared carrying Harry’s trunk (dragging it more likely) and Hedwig’s cage looking about rather excitedly. ‘It’s like they barely ever get out of the bus they drive around in.’ Alicia thought with great disdain.
“’Ow come you di’n’t tell us ‘oo you are, eh, Neville?” Stan asked, to which Alicia replied “Because of the way your acting now I suppose.”, still that didn’t stop Stan from continuing to gawk with Ernie’s rather owllish face peering intensely over Stan’s shoulder in a rather un-owllike manner.
“And a private parlor, please, Tom.” said Fudge, his tolerance for the duo obviously at it’s end. Then he turned to Alicia and added “I’d like to see you as well if you don’t mind, after I talked with Harry that is.”
Alicia nodded her head and trudged off to her private booth, already feeling the weight of his request on her shoulders. Well, she figured, somebody reported her in for nearly hacking up those wizard boys. Oh, well, guess she was going to be in for it now she figured. Still, as she sat down and waited for him to call for her, she didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
Tom returned in awhile with a drink for Alicia, and took her order for dinner (which he said he’d deliver to Fudge’s private parlor for her when she was called in). As he hurried on his way she sat there and pondered what he’d do. Thoughts of that lead back to thoughts of what happened in the alley, and thoughts of that lead to thoughts of Hermione.
For a brief instance she imagined it was her in the alley, her robes hiked up as one of those “things” straddled between her legs and -- ‘dammit.’ Alicia hissed mentally, drinking down another gulp, ‘Don’t go all paranoid. That’s what got you in trouble in the first place.’
Still, if it was Hermione, she wouldn’t have stopped when she did, and she wouldn’t have bothered with an easy to dispell thing like the Eviscerator Disc. Then she realized something. Something she didn’t before in the alleyway. “I wanted to be stopped.”
Before she could ponder it further she realized that Tom needed help with Harry’s luggage seeing how heavy it was. Meeting him at the foot of the staircase leading upstairs she simply lowered her left hand, “gripped” the trunk with her power, and raised her hand levitating it into the air. It didn’t take long that was (trunk floating behind her) to get Harry settled in. By the time she was done Harry and Fudge were done talking and Tom showed her down a narrow passage to the parlor where Fudge was waiting.
“Sit down.” Fudge motioned, indicating a chair by the fire. Alicia, however, took a seat at the table and motioned for him to sit down. “I’m expecting dinner. Come.”
Feeling a little awkward by her boldness he did just that, watching as Tom brought in a huge bowl of spaghetti, a bowl of sauce, garlic toast and two plates. “I took the liberty of ordering dinner for you.” she motioned, digging in. As he helped himself he stared at her, his expression one of curious amusement. It seemed as if he didn’t know quite what to make of her, and this seemed to have thrown him off balance abit. “I’m Cornelius Fudge,” he began, digging in himself, “The Minister of Magic.”
“Your reputation precedes you, sir.” she compliments him as she eats, “What can I do for you, Mister Minister?”
She felt that she was already in trouble, lest he wouldn’t be speaking to her now, so she played it rather coy and kept her hands close to her chest while she waited for Fudge to make his own move. However the first thing out of his mouth made Alicia more concerned than worried.
“What about young Mr. Potter, huh? We were in quite abit of a flap about that incident I assure you---”
“Stop.” she whispers, motioning with her hand (garlic toast held tight), “As much as I’m deeply concerned for young “Mr. Potter”’s welfare, I don’t think you called me in here for that. Want to try that again?”
He stopped, and swallowed a little harder than he should have. He was clearly at a disadvantage, and for the first time she saw his power slipping a little. Whatever he was on about? It wasn’t going to be about her, or at least not to the point of her being in trouble. “The boys you -- had words with earlier tonight? They’re dead.”
Alicia frowned, looking up at him from her plate, “And you’re blaming --”
“No! No! No!” Fudge spat out, turning pale. “I wasn’t blaming you at all. It seems the three young men you ran into -- were eaten alive.”
‘Now there’s a lively thing to chat about during dinner.’ Alicia lamented to herself as she took another bite, “And what does that have to --” (she stopped and thought about it) “-- tell me, were the bite marks on the remains rather large? Like say that of a fair sized carnivore? About six feet from nose to tail?”
“That’d be about right.” Fudge confirmed.
“Sharp small incisions like that made by, say, a Velociraptor? With claw marks that showed signs of an opposable thumb, yet ground markings of something huge with talons and a tail like a reptile (which it used as both a weapon and a balancer)? Is that what “ate” the little bastard boys?”
Fudge was now paper white as he stared at her, shaking, “Now, now, they weren’t that bad at all, just a little--”
“Yes or no, Mister Minister.” Alicia pressed, drawing closer to him as she spoke in a firm even tone. ”Unless you were in that alley and watched them beat those young women for the “Crime“ of being lesbians don‘t you dare tell me they weren‘t that “bad“, OK?”
Her abruptness took him off guard, causing him to studder a little as he choked out “yes”. She simply raised a hand and produced a small 3-D holographic image before him of “A Galerian.” she said, then waited for his reply. As he stared at the image his eyes grew wider and his mouth fell open. “Chew your food honey, it’s showing.” she jabbed, causing him to shut his mouth, “I bet it looks familiar, this little guy. Azkaban? New guest? The “unregistered Ani-Magius”?”
“How did you--”
Alicia shook her head as she motioned towards the image in her free hand, “I hate to break this to you, but it’s NOT an Ani-Magius. It’s worst.”
Fudge didn’t answer. He looked like he was incapable of giving an answer. So she gave it to him anyway. “Cornelius Fudge? Meet your first extraterrestrial.”
Fudge - “---w-w-what?”
“That’s right. Meet the Ministry of Magic’s first hostile alien life form.”
* * * * * *
It took five minutes to give Fudge the data he needed to take back to the Ministry of Magic. Just as long to get him to eat again after she gave him the gory details.
He seemed to relax when she suggested that he tell her all about Harry, taking his mind off of the topic of the alien. At least his appetite improved, and that was good for starters.
In short? She wasn’t in trouble, and apparently neither was Harry despite what he did. “So he… ahem…” (Alicia motioned with her hands as if she was indicating something inflating) “…”blew” up his aunt, and then ran away from home?”
“That’s basically it.”
Alicia whistled in amazement, “And the Ministry has been running about rampant because they were worried that he’d get capped by this Black fella before someone had a chance to find Harry alive? After that I‘d think it‘d be Black who‘d better worry.”
“That’s basically it.” Fudge repeated, his appetite returning with each bite.
“And the Aunt & Uncle will take Harry back as long as he stays at Hogwarts for the Christmas & Easter holidays which he already does without being asked?”
“That’s basically it.”
For a minute she could imagine Hermione scolding her from the background, chiding her for the nasty remarks and insults she had on the tip of her tongue, ready to go at a moment’s notice. So, for her “imaginary Hermione-chan’s” sake, she kept her tongue civil. “And he asked about punishments, right?”
“Right.” Fudge answered. “Well it’s true! We simply don’t cart people off to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”
She kept her thoughts of what they did to Hagrid last year to herself, however --
“That’s funny.” she remarked, her sly voice coming back as she leaned towards Fudge, making him more than abit nervous as she did. “As I remember it? Last year your boys sent Harry an “official warning” just because Dobby the House Elf smashed a cake (mislabeled “pudding” in the letter) in his uncle’s house. Didn’t the letter say they’d expel him from Hogwarts if anymore tom foolery of that sort took place?”
Fudge swallowed hard again, and began to fidgit nervously, “Mistake. Some overzealous paper pusher back at the Ministry took it upon himself to send the warning. Didn’t ask his superior or anything, just sent it. He got a good scolding of course, won’t happen again.”
“Sir.” Alicia whispered, drawling out the word which made Fudge sweat, “I’m not trying to blame you. But the circumstances--”
“Are different now that Harry’s life is in danger.” he quickly pointed out, shoveling down another bite of food as he did.
“Well then,” Alicia spoke up, slapping her hand down on the table to his shock, “What’s the hubbub about! Let’s enjoy dinner!”
“Yes, lets.” Fudge agreed quickly.
Dinner, for the rest of the meal, went by quietly. Fudge didn’t ask questions, Alicia didn’t volunteer answers. As they wrapped up she lead him to the door, then stopped. “How’s the search for Black progressing?” she asked.
Fudge’s fingers slipped on the fastenings of his cloak, his hands shaking as he tried to grip the silver metal beneath his fingers. “Oh, well, we’re trying our best but so far nothing. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Before you catch him, or he kills again?”
“I better be going--” he groaned, pushing his way out and quickly down the corridor before she could pursue him.
“Guess even the best of the best falter.”
* * * * * *
Writing that night’s letter to Hermione was more of an adventure than she thought.
‘I’m beginning to act like a love sick girl.’ she thought to herself as she laid stretched out on her bed, in her panties only, scribbling madly on a piece of paper everything that happened as if she was pouring her heart out to her girlfriend. “We’re not even there yet and already I’m babbling like she’s my sweet forever love.”
She took care not to refer to Hermione as “Hermione-chan”, or to babble sticky sweet words. She just wrote the letter, filled it with info and sometimes thoughts and such (she only depended on two people to hear her innermost thoughts - Hermione & Cho Chang) and sent it off with Chii.
“She’ll probably owl me just to spite me. She knows I hate owls.” she griped, settling down into bed for sleep.
As she looked up at the ceiling above one thought came into her mind, “Helluva day.” she muttered, rolling over as she slowly fell asleep.
“Uh-huh.” the mirror replied wearily.
To Be Continued
(NOTE - Disclaimer time once again ladies and gentlemen! Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings.)
She didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to converse. Didn’t even want to get to her destination right away. She just paid her galleons and sulked in one of the beds as the bus went on it’s way oblivious to everything and everyone around her.
She didn’t pay attention to how the bus jumped seemingly hundreds of miles with each “BANG”, or how things just seemed to leap out of the bus’ way (to make up for the driver’s occasional habit to ride the bus upside the sidewalks instead of the streets). She didn’t even pay attention to who got on with her. She was just in a bad mood, period.
“I was born with a bad mood.” she whispered to herself.
“No arguments here.”
The voice, damningly familiar and damningly coy, drew her attention to a bed next to her. On it was a rather fit asian woman, dressed in a black uniform. Her arms were at rest folded across her chest, a thin smile etched across her face. “You did seem to be rather off back there. Must be that time of the year I suppose.”
Alicia frowned severely at her “bunkmate“, “What would you know, Yamanaka.”
“You’d be surprised.” Keiko Yamanaka, the 7th Judgement muttered, “I don’t ever remember anyone back home exiling you, yet you seem to be whining about that to a few people here and there how you were sorely treated back home.”
Alicia - “It would have came to that.”
“With you everything would come to a bad end.” Keiko retorted, “You have a bad habit of expecting the worst. Though I suppose it also makes you feel safer from disappointments, especially since you always do seem to bring out the worst in a situation when you fully set that “Beautiful Mind” of your’s to it I suppose.”
Alicia scoffs at this. “Thanks for being the dark acid rain cloud in the horizon, Yamanaka.”
“No problem.”
Silence envelops them for a few seconds as they lie there staring at the ceiling, then, “How’s life?” Keiko asks. “Other than the homicidal pissy fits you throw now and again how is it?”
Alicia - “Same old thing. How’s your life.”
Keiko - “Same old, same old.”
Alicia - “That bad, huh?”
Keiko - “Same to you.”
More silence. Finally Keiko huffs her breath and sits upright, “Look I don’t know why you feel so persecuted over what happened, but it’s none of my business to tell you that you aren’t as hated as you’d like to think you are.”
“I just don’t want to think about it.” she sighs, rolling over to not have to look at Keiko, her “tormentor“. “Well that would be such a beautiful convenience if you could not think about it, wouldn’t it?” Keiko prodded.
“And what’s the problem with that, Keiko?!”
“Nothing. Nothing.” Keiko sighed, “It’s your life so you want to live it that way I have no problem with that. Still, you’re the only one who seems to let it rip into yourself over and over again so blame us for your shortcomings.”
“No I’m not.”
“You almost ripped those three boys in half back there, you sure you’re not---”
“WHAT THEY DID WAS WRONG!!” she screamed, shocking the two in front abit, nearly causing the driver to swerve into a tree which barely managed to jump out of the way. “I know that.” Keiko countered in an even tone, “But in light of your abilities you can’t go about slaughtering the “infidels” who don’t live up to your high standards of…”
“WHAT HIGH STANDARDS!!” Alicia yelled, eyes burning. “Don’t give me--”
Keiko - “Even I don’t expect ignorance to disappear overnight. It’s an unrealistic expectation of those who live with bias. But still, you could have handled it---”
“And how would YOU have handled it?!” Alicia spat out, spinning about on the bed to come face to face with Keiko, both sitting upright. “Don’t you sit there preaching to me from on high that you could have done better than me, because I know you.”
Silence once again separates the two for a little bit, “Maybe your right. But at least I wouldn’t have sent a highly charged plasma disc through a building! What if it hurt someone? Brought the building down? What then? Those discs don’t exactly stop on a dime and you weren’t in the best of mind to stop it that quickly---”
“I could have stopped it.”
“---you weren’t in the right state of mind to stop it!” Keiko finished, growling her words over Alicia’s denial. “You were so messed up that you would have let that disc fly regardless, devil be damned who or what was in front of it!”
“Do you think I would have…”
Keiko - “I KNOW you would have, and you did if it wasn’t for that Mughi guy who---”
Suddenly Alicia face scrunched abit, “Who?“
“Mughi. Mughi. That guy with the funny spellcraft eye that swivels around like it‘s juiced on ten cups of coffee a day!“ (Alicia begins to laugh) “Mughi and… what?!?” Keiko asks, looking flustered, “What’s so funny??”
“MOODY!” Alicia gasps, her laughter growing, “His name is Moody, not Mughi!”
Keiko looks at her oddly as she doubles over, laughing now hysterically. “Wasn’t that funny… “Moody“, “Mughi“, what‘s the difference.”
The next five minutes end up being lighter in mood with her laughing, easing tensions. By the time she recovers she turns to notice that Keiko was gone. On her bed a note.
“Alicia Spinner” (-_-) (“Spinnet, loser, Spinnet.”)
“It wasn’t that funny. Get over yourself.”
“But I didn’t come here to harass you, you know. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK. Despite what you think I don’t blame you for what happened at the end. I’m just glad you’re OK and over her. It’s better this way anyway. I hope you find happiness with whoever you choose as your soulmate in this world.
Best (signed Keiko Yamanaka):”
Alicia sighs and tucks the note in her tessearct pouch, lying back down to catch her breath (occasionally snickering everytime she thought of “Moody”/”Mughi”).
So much so that she once again lost track of who was getting onboard. It wasn’t until she happened to turn her head that she saw--- “YOU?? H--” he quickly clamps her mouth shut, sitting up quickly to do so, before she finished saying the name “Harry Potter”, his grip is rather tight for some reason tonight -- too tight in fact. She stares at him awkwardly, his hand still clamped on her mouth. He motions for her silence then whispers “Sorry.”
“Mmpmmpmmp. Mpmpmpm---”
“I can’t explain it now. I just--- I have to get out of here---I---” he suddenly stops when he notices Alicia waving her arms in a panic. He quickly uncovers her face (hand covered too much) and let’s her breath again. “GASP!!” (she rolls over) “I know I died once but let’s not go through that again---”
“?” (Harry’s confused, so she decides to drop it.) “Never mind.” she grumbles, turning her attention back to Harry. “What are you--- WAIT!!” (hands up to shield her face) “Not that again!” (sighs) “Alright, alright. Never mind.”
As the two lie silently on the bed, Alicia began thinking again and one thought came to her mind. ‘I’ll bet my pocket change that it has something to do with the Dursley. Rutty bunch of racists I’ve ever seen in my---’
“That man!”
Alicia’s head spins around, looking towards the source of the voice, Harry, “He was on the Muggle news!”
Briefly Alicia had a sudden and most peculiar thought. She imagined Sirius Black, dressed up in the most becoming dress, twirling about at the sound of “That man!”
THAT MAN (in color)
Alicia stifles her giggles. ‘Eck. Complete with background music--- better not laugh, they might think I’m psychotic to laugh about a convicted criminal.’ (a few more giggles though just because)
“You oughta read the papers more, Neville.”
‘Neville?’ she thought, looking about almost expecting to see the forgetful boy and his half elfin (sweet as heck but abit scary in her sweet ways) girlfriend, “May”, who was sent mostly to spy on her at Hogwarts (but ended up mostly following Neville around much to her great relief). It then dawned on her that they were talking about Harry. She only then began to realize the depth of his fear if he wasn’t even telling people who he was.
She rolled off her bed to come up next to Harry, looking over his shoulder as he read.
The picture that accompanied the report didn’t move. It took awhile for Alicia to notice that it was, in fact, a moving picture --- only that the subject on it didn’t move an inch.
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, (at this section the image shifted to what looked like a moving press conference as Fudge answered questions while trying to shake his reporter “shadows” that followed him through the halls of the Ministry building) this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”
The newspaper went on to say “Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.” (a still of Prime Minister Tony Blair (‘I thought he got replaced?’ Alicia thought to herself) came up next)
“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know.” said an irritable Fudge as the image shifted back to his retreat from the media. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it --- who’d believe him if he did?”
The newspaper went on: “While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a type of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.”
The image reverts back to that of Black once again.
Alicia stares at the image, having already memorized it from news reports. Only the eyes seemed to contain any sign of life on the picture, and even they didn’t move.
He looked like someone that even Alicia had misgiving about running into in any circumstances, be it dark alleyway or broad daylight surrounded by a hundred Judgements as backup.
“Scary-lookin’ fing, inee?” said Stan, the conductor, who had been watching the two read.
“He murderered thirteen people? With one curse?” Potter said in shock.
“Yup,” Stan shot off as if it didn’t mean much to him, “in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?”
At that Alicia grabbed the paper and stared at the image intensely.
“Ar,”
The picture was indeed dark, and scary, but the man in the image? He looked far too intelligent and smart to have done something so stupid like kill 13 people in broad daylight. There was something about his eyes which---
“Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-’Oo,” Stan said.
“What, Voldemort?”
“Voldemort would approve -- uh, “Neville“.” Alicia responded, tapping the page, “Looks like his---?” stops as the bus swerves hard, almost tossing her from her bed, causing her to throw her arm out grab something to keep from rolling off.
“You two outta your tree?” yelped Stan, to which Alicia growled “WHAT?!”
“Choo say ‘is name for?”
Harry apologized, but Alicia refused, tossing the paper back to Stan and calling him a baby for being so afraid of a name. They talked to Harry in hushed whispers the rest of the ride, mostly because Alicia had hurt Stan’s feelings. “Big deal.” she griped, “It’s only a name.”
Alicia didn’t have to listen anyway, she simply opened her mind to his and picked off the images he was ‘feeling’ as he talked. Nothing too hard for her to do.
The images she saw made her think.
Image of Voldemort, crumpling under his own spell in a overtly dramatic mannerism while standing in front of a glowing baby. It had to be Harry’s “defeat” of Voldemort (though she thought it was rather over the top for “Harry” to have been standing in his crib waving Voldemort down as he fell, Stan seemed to have had a lively imagination).
Newsclippings and reports on wizarding news of the capture of Voldemort supporters.
Image of Black, cornered on a busy street, going down fighting (wand striking out at his enemies). Death. Destruction. Then he started to laugh.
It was silent, because Stan never heard Sirius Black speak so he didn’t have a voice to put with the laughter, so it was rather errie to see this scene play out. Just to be sure she watched it a few more times, but then gave up.
‘Too colorful.’ she thought to herself. The images in his mind were the “colorized”, sensationalized recollections of a man who reads the newspapers and overtly dramatized the events within them. There was no factual information to be gained from his “account” of the situation. In a moment she supposed if she did some background and found an actual eyewitness, she could then scan his or her thoughts and get a better peek. But, then again, didn’t she say promise that she was through with “saving” the world after the chaos last year at Hogwarts?
‘There’s got to be a better way to find a significant other than this way.’ she lamented.
Briefly an image of Azkaban came up, and she remembered that she hadn’t “disconnected” herself from his thoughts. She did that and came back to reality. The rest really didn’t interest her since Stan didn‘t even get Azkaban right in his mind.
Still, the brief memory of Azkaban made her remember the Dementors.
She had only seen them once, and she was in her worst mood then. When Hagrid was taken there. She had been frustrated, angry, and overtly pissed that everyone was being so easily manipulated by Lucius Malfoy. That just got her anger up.
She used what power she had (which wasn’t as much as it was now post her receival of a new Raven’s “heart” and Familyar Cloak) to travel there (teleport) and made a big show to threaten the Dementors. The guards were miffed at her arrival, and Hagrid looked embarrassed at her boldness, but the Dementors were intrigued. They followed her as she walked Hagrid to his cell, and then stopped. When she turned to look at them, eyes burning red, they drifted away.
It was on her way out she saw something that interested her. Something that got her thinking---
Stan (who apparently had to speak to her because it was his job) woke her out of thought. “where abouts in London?”
“Diagon Alley.” she whispered, her thoughts fading back to Azkaban and her discovery.
But that didn’t last long because a few shaky moves and twists later and they were there with a thunderous BANG to announce their arrival.
“Thanks,” Harry said to Ern, jumping down the steps, helping Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig’s cage onto the pavement. Alicia right behind him.
“Well,” said Harry. “Bye then!”
Alicia moved to join him, only to realize that Stan wasn’t moving. His eyes were firmly fixed at something, or someone, ahead. She looked up, and saw him.
“There you are, Harry.”
Alicia saw him the minute she looked out the bus, but for Harry it was too late as he felt a hand on his shoulder. At that exact same moment, Stan shouted “Blimey! Ern, come ‘ere! Come ‘ere!”
‘For God’s sake don’t act so excited!’ Alicia thought to herself gloomily as she stepped off the bus and approached Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. As she did this, Stan leapt onto the pavement besides them. “What didja call Neville, Minister?” he asked in an excited tone.
Fudge, a rather portly little man (yet with an air of power about him) in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked at Stan oddly. He was worn out, looked rather tired and cold, yet he still had that air of power about him which came from his mantle as Minister.
“Neville?” he repeated, frowning as if he couldn’t understand why Stan would say such a thing, “This is Harry Potter.”
“I knew it!” Stan shouted gleefully, almost instantly causing Fudge to turn pale, no doubt regretting that he even mentioned that to Stan. “Ern! Ern! Guess ‘oo Neville is, Ern! ‘E’s ‘Arry Potter! I can see ‘is scar!” (his eyes suddenly turned onto Alicia, who suddenly felt quite anxious to leave the alleyway ASAP) “What is it?!”
“YOU!!” Stan shouted, suddenly grabbing Alicia’s right arm trying to force the sleeve of her shirt up. She quickly shoves him back and screams, “STOP THAT!!” (obviously they were looking for her raven tattoo which was making the rounds ever since she the end of last year after her fight with the Darke Raven, when she came back upstairs in her tattered robes (her uniform safely “tucked” back into subspace), her right arm exposed showing her tattoo). (‘Guess I should be glad it wasn’t a breast tattoo.’ she thought briefly.)
But why such an excitement over a tattoo was something Alicia couldn’t fathom. She just knew people wanted to see her raven tattoo, that’s it. It was 20 or so the first week, and then a steady 1-4 each week afterwards. Maybe they were just fond of tattoos.
“Yes,” Fudge finally interrupted, his patience with Stan growing thin (a feeling Alicia could relate to wholeheartidly) “well, I’m very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now---”
Fudge, making sure not to lose Harry, skillfully increased pressure on his arm to maneuver him inside the pub. Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, his stooping figure coming through the door bearing a lantern, eyed the crowd outside. “You’ve got him, Minister! Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?”
“Perhaps a pot of tea,” said Fudge carefully, slowly manuvering Harry into the pub. Behind them there was a loud scraping and puffing, as Stan & Ern appeared carrying Harry’s trunk (dragging it more likely) and Hedwig’s cage looking about rather excitedly. ‘It’s like they barely ever get out of the bus they drive around in.’ Alicia thought with great disdain.
“’Ow come you di’n’t tell us ‘oo you are, eh, Neville?” Stan asked, to which Alicia replied “Because of the way your acting now I suppose.”, still that didn’t stop Stan from continuing to gawk with Ernie’s rather owllish face peering intensely over Stan’s shoulder in a rather un-owllike manner.
“And a private parlor, please, Tom.” said Fudge, his tolerance for the duo obviously at it’s end. Then he turned to Alicia and added “I’d like to see you as well if you don’t mind, after I talked with Harry that is.”
Alicia nodded her head and trudged off to her private booth, already feeling the weight of his request on her shoulders. Well, she figured, somebody reported her in for nearly hacking up those wizard boys. Oh, well, guess she was going to be in for it now she figured. Still, as she sat down and waited for him to call for her, she didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
Tom returned in awhile with a drink for Alicia, and took her order for dinner (which he said he’d deliver to Fudge’s private parlor for her when she was called in). As he hurried on his way she sat there and pondered what he’d do. Thoughts of that lead back to thoughts of what happened in the alley, and thoughts of that lead to thoughts of Hermione.
For a brief instance she imagined it was her in the alley, her robes hiked up as one of those “things” straddled between her legs and -- ‘dammit.’ Alicia hissed mentally, drinking down another gulp, ‘Don’t go all paranoid. That’s what got you in trouble in the first place.’
Still, if it was Hermione, she wouldn’t have stopped when she did, and she wouldn’t have bothered with an easy to dispell thing like the Eviscerator Disc. Then she realized something. Something she didn’t before in the alleyway. “I wanted to be stopped.”
Before she could ponder it further she realized that Tom needed help with Harry’s luggage seeing how heavy it was. Meeting him at the foot of the staircase leading upstairs she simply lowered her left hand, “gripped” the trunk with her power, and raised her hand levitating it into the air. It didn’t take long that was (trunk floating behind her) to get Harry settled in. By the time she was done Harry and Fudge were done talking and Tom showed her down a narrow passage to the parlor where Fudge was waiting.
“Sit down.” Fudge motioned, indicating a chair by the fire. Alicia, however, took a seat at the table and motioned for him to sit down. “I’m expecting dinner. Come.”
Feeling a little awkward by her boldness he did just that, watching as Tom brought in a huge bowl of spaghetti, a bowl of sauce, garlic toast and two plates. “I took the liberty of ordering dinner for you.” she motioned, digging in. As he helped himself he stared at her, his expression one of curious amusement. It seemed as if he didn’t know quite what to make of her, and this seemed to have thrown him off balance abit. “I’m Cornelius Fudge,” he began, digging in himself, “The Minister of Magic.”
“Your reputation precedes you, sir.” she compliments him as she eats, “What can I do for you, Mister Minister?”
She felt that she was already in trouble, lest he wouldn’t be speaking to her now, so she played it rather coy and kept her hands close to her chest while she waited for Fudge to make his own move. However the first thing out of his mouth made Alicia more concerned than worried.
“What about young Mr. Potter, huh? We were in quite abit of a flap about that incident I assure you---”
“Stop.” she whispers, motioning with her hand (garlic toast held tight), “As much as I’m deeply concerned for young “Mr. Potter”’s welfare, I don’t think you called me in here for that. Want to try that again?”
He stopped, and swallowed a little harder than he should have. He was clearly at a disadvantage, and for the first time she saw his power slipping a little. Whatever he was on about? It wasn’t going to be about her, or at least not to the point of her being in trouble. “The boys you -- had words with earlier tonight? They’re dead.”
Alicia frowned, looking up at him from her plate, “And you’re blaming --”
“No! No! No!” Fudge spat out, turning pale. “I wasn’t blaming you at all. It seems the three young men you ran into -- were eaten alive.”
‘Now there’s a lively thing to chat about during dinner.’ Alicia lamented to herself as she took another bite, “And what does that have to --” (she stopped and thought about it) “-- tell me, were the bite marks on the remains rather large? Like say that of a fair sized carnivore? About six feet from nose to tail?”
“That’d be about right.” Fudge confirmed.
“Sharp small incisions like that made by, say, a Velociraptor? With claw marks that showed signs of an opposable thumb, yet ground markings of something huge with talons and a tail like a reptile (which it used as both a weapon and a balancer)? Is that what “ate” the little bastard boys?”
Fudge was now paper white as he stared at her, shaking, “Now, now, they weren’t that bad at all, just a little--”
“Yes or no, Mister Minister.” Alicia pressed, drawing closer to him as she spoke in a firm even tone. ”Unless you were in that alley and watched them beat those young women for the “Crime“ of being lesbians don‘t you dare tell me they weren‘t that “bad“, OK?”
Her abruptness took him off guard, causing him to studder a little as he choked out “yes”. She simply raised a hand and produced a small 3-D holographic image before him of “A Galerian.” she said, then waited for his reply. As he stared at the image his eyes grew wider and his mouth fell open. “Chew your food honey, it’s showing.” she jabbed, causing him to shut his mouth, “I bet it looks familiar, this little guy. Azkaban? New guest? The “unregistered Ani-Magius”?”
“How did you--”
Alicia shook her head as she motioned towards the image in her free hand, “I hate to break this to you, but it’s NOT an Ani-Magius. It’s worst.”
Fudge didn’t answer. He looked like he was incapable of giving an answer. So she gave it to him anyway. “Cornelius Fudge? Meet your first extraterrestrial.”
Fudge - “---w-w-what?”
“That’s right. Meet the Ministry of Magic’s first hostile alien life form.”
* * * * * *
It took five minutes to give Fudge the data he needed to take back to the Ministry of Magic. Just as long to get him to eat again after she gave him the gory details.
He seemed to relax when she suggested that he tell her all about Harry, taking his mind off of the topic of the alien. At least his appetite improved, and that was good for starters.
In short? She wasn’t in trouble, and apparently neither was Harry despite what he did. “So he… ahem…” (Alicia motioned with her hands as if she was indicating something inflating) “…”blew” up his aunt, and then ran away from home?”
“That’s basically it.”
Alicia whistled in amazement, “And the Ministry has been running about rampant because they were worried that he’d get capped by this Black fella before someone had a chance to find Harry alive? After that I‘d think it‘d be Black who‘d better worry.”
“That’s basically it.” Fudge repeated, his appetite returning with each bite.
“And the Aunt & Uncle will take Harry back as long as he stays at Hogwarts for the Christmas & Easter holidays which he already does without being asked?”
“That’s basically it.”
For a minute she could imagine Hermione scolding her from the background, chiding her for the nasty remarks and insults she had on the tip of her tongue, ready to go at a moment’s notice. So, for her “imaginary Hermione-chan’s” sake, she kept her tongue civil. “And he asked about punishments, right?”
“Right.” Fudge answered. “Well it’s true! We simply don’t cart people off to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”
She kept her thoughts of what they did to Hagrid last year to herself, however --
“That’s funny.” she remarked, her sly voice coming back as she leaned towards Fudge, making him more than abit nervous as she did. “As I remember it? Last year your boys sent Harry an “official warning” just because Dobby the House Elf smashed a cake (mislabeled “pudding” in the letter) in his uncle’s house. Didn’t the letter say they’d expel him from Hogwarts if anymore tom foolery of that sort took place?”
Fudge swallowed hard again, and began to fidgit nervously, “Mistake. Some overzealous paper pusher back at the Ministry took it upon himself to send the warning. Didn’t ask his superior or anything, just sent it. He got a good scolding of course, won’t happen again.”
“Sir.” Alicia whispered, drawling out the word which made Fudge sweat, “I’m not trying to blame you. But the circumstances--”
“Are different now that Harry’s life is in danger.” he quickly pointed out, shoveling down another bite of food as he did.
“Well then,” Alicia spoke up, slapping her hand down on the table to his shock, “What’s the hubbub about! Let’s enjoy dinner!”
“Yes, lets.” Fudge agreed quickly.
Dinner, for the rest of the meal, went by quietly. Fudge didn’t ask questions, Alicia didn’t volunteer answers. As they wrapped up she lead him to the door, then stopped. “How’s the search for Black progressing?” she asked.
Fudge’s fingers slipped on the fastenings of his cloak, his hands shaking as he tried to grip the silver metal beneath his fingers. “Oh, well, we’re trying our best but so far nothing. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Before you catch him, or he kills again?”
“I better be going--” he groaned, pushing his way out and quickly down the corridor before she could pursue him.
“Guess even the best of the best falter.”
* * * * * *
Writing that night’s letter to Hermione was more of an adventure than she thought.
‘I’m beginning to act like a love sick girl.’ she thought to herself as she laid stretched out on her bed, in her panties only, scribbling madly on a piece of paper everything that happened as if she was pouring her heart out to her girlfriend. “We’re not even there yet and already I’m babbling like she’s my sweet forever love.”
She took care not to refer to Hermione as “Hermione-chan”, or to babble sticky sweet words. She just wrote the letter, filled it with info and sometimes thoughts and such (she only depended on two people to hear her innermost thoughts - Hermione & Cho Chang) and sent it off with Chii.
“She’ll probably owl me just to spite me. She knows I hate owls.” she griped, settling down into bed for sleep.
As she looked up at the ceiling above one thought came into her mind, “Helluva day.” she muttered, rolling over as she slowly fell asleep.
“Uh-huh.” the mirror replied wearily.
To Be Continued
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Harry Potter gaming past, present and future are all here!
And, bonus content, we overview LEGO Builder : Harry Potter I & II, talk about The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and look into two strange incidents of Potter future (Potter Land and Potter the Musical)!
Check it out! Purchase an epub (only $0.99 each)!
(And now, to celebrate, here's the next chapter of the fan fiction!)
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Azkaban Chapter 2
Azkaban Chapter 2 (May 25th 2008)
(NOTE - Disclaimer time once again ladies and gentlemen! Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings. One book to completion of her series, three movies to go (with Order of the Phoenix coming in Summer of 2007). By the way, that means she only has until… hmm… I’d say we’ll see Harry Potter Year 7 the Movie by Summer 2010 if things go the way they do, so Rowlings will have to answer whether she’ll do anything with the Potter franchise past the last book of the series by then. Don’t envy her, by the way, when she finally makes her announcement if she hadn’t already.)
Four days had passed since the presents arrived. She had, of course, remembered to send one to Harry since (oddly enough) their birthdays were on the same day. Strange, but true. She had gotten him a set of books on the best teams in Quidditch, but mostly for enjoyment and the endlessly fascinating moving pictures of the most exciting games since he obviously didn’t need it for improving his game.
For awhile she enjoyed her days, pushing back her purchasing of the new year’s school supplies, and just enjoying herself to the fullest. There was no need to rush the trip back to school yet. But she couldn’t enjoy herself today. Not today.
Once again it had come about, whether she wanted it to or not. The day had come.
With a slight sigh of irritation, Alicia wearily went down to the Leaky Cauldron to eat breakfast before heading into the “Normal” world to conduct her business for today. The room, as usual, was filled with witches and wizards of all types, yet she didn’t feel like being a social animal. She simply requested a private booth, and set herself within to eat in private. That, more than anything, silenced the room.
Everybody was used to her usual jolly self in the room, her eagerness to jump into conversations and correct magic folks when they had a misconception about Muggles (“No, no, Pink Flamingos are not used to attack unsuspecting door to door salesmen.”), but today --- today was different and they all felt it.
She didn’t want company today. Even when her food was delivered she politely declined any offer of companionship and wished only to be alone. She wasn’t herself this morning, and nobody could figure out why.
It wasn’t the Dursleys, that’s for certain. She hadn’t returned to their home on Privet Drive in days and days. She kept in touch with Harry easy enough via her raven (who could deliver any message silently and without fail), and she hadn’t even thought of the Weasleys in a long while.
No, today was a particular “task” she did every year since she got here, which made this the third time since her arrival three years ago.
Outside people were murmuring, but instead of the normal daily business they were murmuring about her. To shut it out she pulled out her portable “telly” sphere from her pouch tesseract and set it on the table, tuning it to the W3N2 Wizarding WorldWide News Network).
“The magic community is warned that Black is considered extremely dangerous and prone to violence. The Ministry of Magic has set up a special hotline that can be reached via what Muggles call “telephones”, should any sighting of Black be made in the Muggle communities. Black should be considered extremely dangerous, and not approached under any circumstances.
Instructions on the proper use of a Muggle “telephone“, and the types of coins needed to work one can be requested from the Ministry of Magic. But stay tuned to this station as at the bottom of the hour our roving reporter will show you how to properly work the average Muggle Telly, and whether or not any of these devices with a focus on law enforcement alerting can actually be transformed into a mobile time machine.”
The news has been carrying on about Black non-stop it seems since he escaped. Meanwhile the other being that escaped, the unknown Ani-Magius, remained at large yet unreported on. Apparently he was really as harmless as the paper suggested, and people were more worried of the devil they knew (Black) than one that was unknown to them.
Pity they didn’t take Jack Lazarus’ Guardian Academy class on the “Darkling Element“ (darkness and evil intent in both nightmares and humankind), because as he was well known for drilling into new recruits “It’s always the devil you know the least that can prove to be the most dangerous.” (Jack Lazarus)
The only image they had of the strange entity was of a gaunt faced individual, his hair was a matted elbow length tangle. Of course that was before he broke out, which shouldn’t mean anything as even the dimmest of criminals knew to change their appearance after breaking out of jail so there stood a good chance that Black didn’t even look like this anymore (let alone the mysterious AniMagius). The news should have prepared more images of possible appearances he might have taken on, just to have been on the safe side.
The news shifted to Quidditch news (World Cup news again) and Alicia shut her sphere off and put it back into her tesseract pouch. While it was nice that they occasionally reported on other thing, it seems that the news media in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds have been hanging on Black’s story for days (though only the Wizarding world knew the truth about Black, or as much of the truth as they had about him), but not so much as to inform the public as it drew in good ratings. Like vultures to a dead carcass, the news tended to hover over stories like this until it was beaten to death. Still, if this over exposure helped capture Black then more power to the news media.
With that she finished her meal, tidied up (making a nice neat little pile for the cleaning staff to gather up) and made her way out of the doors of the Leaky Cauldron and into the Normal world. Right off the bat her day was already doomed.
She missed her first bus and had to wait for a second one, all the while being passed by wizards from the pub still wondering what was bothering her. She smiled, and tried her best to be polite, though they all were acting like she had lost a limb back at the pub and they were all trying to give her missing arm back to her (the way they fidgeted about her like nervous cats).
When she finally caught her bus and made it to the part of town she wanted to go she found the little store she wanted to visit was being visited already, by a gunman. With more than abit of annoyance in her voice, she stormed up to him and yanked the gun away screaming at him to get lost. Now, mind you, most Muggles should NEVER try such a stupid thing --- but then again she figured the bullets wouldn’t harm her anyway since her costume would only “emerge” from it’s resting spot in subspace to protect her, and she could have just yanked the gun free from his hand with abit of power. But she was in a foul mood, and he just so happened to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, she mused, at least she didn’t kill him. He should be grateful for that at least.
What was worst for her was, as she bought her picnic lunch, she almost forgot to pay in Muggle money (cursing as she almost handed the cashier a fistful of silver Sickles for her purchase). Today she was definitely not paying attention.
As she waited for her ride to the place where she was going to eat her lunch she felt her thoughts wander back to the permission form, and how to get it signed.
She had, for the past few days (from time to time) mulled over it. And while it wasn’t a top priority with her it still demanded some thought from her, and yet she still hadn’t come to a satisfactory conclusion over it. She could have had her “associates” who masqueraded as her parents sign it, but it could have opened a sticky cage of Cornish Pixies if they did a background check and found out her “parents” were not even related to her (and they were too vital to her as human resources to be disposed off so easily).
So far all she needed was a place for her mail to go that was, on the record, home, and that’s it. But this form could have opened up a deeper inquiry into her “life” and her “home” which was something she really didn’t want right now.
She didn’t know how they did it at Hogwarts, but she felt she had to play it safe rather than take a risk like this. So she still had the form, but nobody to sign it.
Stranger still was the fact that she tried to write to Harry two days ago for his advice, only for Chii to return to her with the note STILL in her possession and a small note asking her not to write for a few days. She thought it might have been that Mr. Dursley had “remembered” what she did to him, but in fact it was just that his “Aunt Marge” was visiting and she was, from what she could get in the one line or two he wrote about her, a major git and a half.
Oh, well, she was once again stuck with her perdictiment even after trying to palm it off onto someone else. One form, no signers, and no answers.
Maybe she was feeling a little bold because the next thought that came into her head was to send a message to Hermione to see if she could figure out a way around this.
But knowing her she’d just scold her for trying to get around the rules and reprimand her. She had already written to Hermione anyway, making her promise not to buy her school books since this year it was going to be Alica’s “treat” to buy them. Part in reason was to return the favor for the Animes she got her, part because it made Alicia all tingly to think about buying Hermione “gifts” (even if they were only school books). (Maybe she would “accidentally” sneak chocolates in, just because--)
A quick thought to try and get the Weasley brothers of George & Fred to “forge” a name on the form came up, but the form was probably magicked to detect that kind of trickery (and even if it wasn’t there was probably tests they’d do on the form to make sure it wasn’t monkeyed with).
Overall? When it came to this one form somehow her scrolls of homework seemed a helluva lot easier to fathom than the problems that this one piece of paper was giving her. Sure she could dodge out of going to Hogsmeade until she was old enough to go without permission from parents she didn’t have in this world, but still -- the thought of using Hogsmeade’s’ resources to court Hermione with gifts of affection intrigued her greatly.
Then there was the matter of Cho Chang. She’d been friends with the girl since first year (herself being a second year back then), and this year she heard Cho was going up for possibly becoming the Seeker for Ravenclaw. She thought for a few agonizing seconds about asking her, then declined it right off.
There was something that needed to be said about this.
Hermione was her crush, her interest and lost cause in love.
Cho Chang was her best friend -- but when last year ended, and Alicia took a pass at Cho saying “Seeing how I probably won’t make it out of Hogwarts with everyone and their Darke Raven uncle trying to off me, maybe I should seduce you now before I die a virgin? I mean I really really need it and I could see myself falling in love with you.”
“Ask me again in two years.” she simply said, and no more with a smile most perplexing on her lips. Walking off leaving Alicia confused, as they parted for the year.
Heh. Alicia almost thought it way too naughty to even humor the unlikely thought that Cho was-- but still, in letters she sent (via Chii since she knew how much Alicia hated owls) she had hinted that, if Alicia was serious, that they could POSSIBLY try it later. Alicia said yes, and Cho said this in the next letter to her.
“I want to court a Hufflepuff for awhile. Let’s stay friends until we’ve truly decided our heart’s desires, then we’ll make our choice then.”
What a cryptic message. A Hufflepuff? Why? And who did she--- Alicia smirked at the thought of Cho picking her after her Hufflepuff “courtier“, then smiled a more humble smile. She’s just a nice friend who wants to make Alicia happy. Ah, if only it could be true, that would be so sweet (and not bittersweet as it felt right now).
When she finally arrived at Big Ben a few minutes later it didn’t take long to find the place she was looking for. In the shadow of Big Ben, hidden out of sight of the Muggles, she tapped out a small sequence on an ordinary wall and opened a “door” to the most beautiful park in all of London. The park, which existed in a pocket “tesseract”, was huge and spanned as far as the eye could see. It was a hidden place of extreme beauty in the heart of the man made city of London. Trees, rolling hills of grass, and even a huge lake could be seen from her vantage point as she stepped through off of London’s hustle and bustle and into the serenity of “Tranquility Park”.
Tranquility Park was a place for magical folk to relax and enjoy themselves without having to spend time in the “normal” parks where Muggles hung around. It was their own private nature sanctuary all to themselves, and they did their best to keep it clean and tidy for all to enjoy. The park was maintained by a small rotating staff of wizards who constantly patrolled the park zapping litter and lecturing people to clean up after themselves.
Today was a nice day, as always, since the environment in the tesseract was always sunny (or a clear starry night if it was dark out in London), so it was as good a day as any for a picnic. Alicia set off across the grass, watching the birds fly by while minding not to step on the garden gnomes that wandered the landscape. She knew exactly where she was going. She’d done it before. But it had been a year since she was last there.
The last time she was there she was commuting between Diagon Alley & the Burrows (where Harry was staying after he had to be sprung from his “imprisonment” by the Dursleys on the day of his birthday), and she had almost forgotten to come. But since this year things were relatively quiet she didn’t forget -- even if at times she wished she could forget what happened there three years ago.
As she came over the tenth hill it came into sight. Rising up from the landscape was a quiet hill with a tall stone monument looking over the park from it’s vantage point.
The marker, which she paid for herself from the large fortune of galleons she “earned” from the one key she confiscated from that Darke Raven she chased to this world that day three years ago -- the day she killed the real Alicia Spinnet and assumed her place.
The monument was made in her honor. Her final resting place sorta since her body still walked the Earth despite the fact that the spirit within had gone to heaven a long time ago.
As she neared the marker, ready to set up for lunch, something felt wrong. Something was amiss. When she neared she saw that someone had vandalized the monument. Burned into the stone itself (no doubt with the use of a wand) were the words “DYKE” and “WHORE”.
Alicia’s eyes narrowed, and her teeth ground together as she stared at the words, each one burning into her mind’s eye. She raised a hand, only to feel someone else’s presence.
“Damn kids went and did it again, I see.”
The sound of shuffling and a steady thunk thunk thunk in the soft grass alerted her to the presence. With a ragged sigh she released her pent up anger slowly and turned towards the source of the words. “They did it again, Moody. Damn bastards --”
“Give ‘em a little credit.” Mad Eye Moody remarked as he neared, motioning towards the stone, “Least they managed to spell it right this time. Remember last time when they misspelled--”
“Don’t remind me.” Alicia sighed bitterly, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet as she examined it. “I guess I’ll have to repair it again.”
“Guess so. You brought lunch?”
“You know I did.”
* * * * * *
Tradition. She did it last year, and she was doing it again.
Lunch with the man who helped her defeat the Darke Raven she was hunting.
Once again he makes a table and two plush chairs appear on the hilltop, mostly since he would probably have a difficult time sitting on the grass with his wooden leg and all, and the two sit down. As they observed the fields of people relaxing, a coy thought came into Alicia’s mind.
“People probably think we’re spring/autumn lovers, you know. Wondering what kind of naughty mischief we’ll get into beneath the bushes after lunch---”
Moody frowned at her and took another bite of his chicken, looking about as usual for any sign of “Attackers”. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”
“That’s my line.” she retorted softly, chewing her food slowly as she looked back at the now cleaned and sanitized headstone. “Magical folk can be so ignorant at times.”
“Folk in general, or just me?”
“Don’t sass me.” Alicia grumbled, eyes wandering as she spoke slowly. “You know what I mean. Muggle this, Muggle that, dyke dyke --”
“Don’t be getting yourself all worked up.”
“WHY NOT!” she snarls, taking a bite out of her food, “I’ve been riled up since this morning. Nothing but Sirius Black staring me in the face on the news, and in the paper, and this ignorance today--” (shoving a hand out towards the tombstone as she goes on) “--it’s just getting on my nerves. If it’s not one thing, it’s the usual thing. And that usual thing being---”
“That usual thing being the homophobic nature of some of the younger wizards.”
“And Normals.” she finishes. Her shoulders slump abit as she speaks, “No wonder Cho didn’t give me an answer last year. Even the sweetest and gentlest of girls can be stumped when their best female friend makes a pass. Bet she thinks I’m some sort of freak now.”
“You’re quick to judge what others think of you.”
“Aren’t you the same?” Alicia retorted.
“Guess.” Moody accepts, smiling grimly at her as he watches her closely, “You really think that badly of others? That you can’t get close without being hurt? Do unto others as you want them to do unto--”
Alicia - “You swallow a bad fortune cookie or are you ALWAYS this annoying?!”
Moody goes back to eating, his magical eye continuing to swivel about endlessly.
‘God I hate remembrances.’ she growled to herself, in her thoughts.
* * * * * *
At the end they parted, and she laid her flowers at the base of the stone and prayed.
She didn’t know what “faith” or “beliefs” the real Alicia Spinnet had, so she could only do what she herself knew and that was the Goddess faith, which probably wasn’t what the real Alicia believed in. Still, better than nothing. She then spent the rest of the afternoon telling tales to the stone of what she did in school, the adventures and the mishaps, and wished that Alicia could tell her what Heaven was like.
She knew that Alicia went to Heaven in the end. She saw the angels come for her soul herself. But what happened next? Even she didn’t know.
At the end she packed up her basket (dropping the empty thing into one of her tesseract gems for safe keeping), and went back into the now darkened Muggle streets to head back to Diagon Alley. Night was descending on the streets, and it looks gloomy in the now ominous shadow of the towering Big Ben. Time, definitely, to go. All she had to do was get back to the bus stop and catch the next bus and she’d be on her way.
That’s when she heard the laughing, and in between a soft sobbing noise.
Her attention turned away from the bus stop, and deeper into the darkness.
She didn’t like the noise one bit, but she had to investigate. Drawing her wand (finely made custom job from Ollivander’s using a piece of rare wood from the Realm of Dreams and the “strings” of her own soul as it’s base) she held it out and tried to remember the word for light. “Lumos.” she finally remembered, shining a light ahead of her. A few feet down, and one turn, she ran into three robed boys (obviously magicals) tormenting two Muggle girls. One laid cowering on the ground, while the other shielded her from their gazes and taunts. One kept kicking the one on top.
“Like being on top don’t YOU! Slutty little Muggle dyke!”
“FUCKIN’ LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BASTARD!!” Alicia screaming in a rage.
“Come on! Let me kick the little pu--” (they turned and noticed Alicia, and she them), “Well if it isn’t the little dyke from---”
That’s all he said. Alicia’s eyes narrowed, her teeth clenched again (as before on the hill), only this time she had three live targets to “play” with.
She lowered her wand hand, and jerked him into the wall with her free hand, her power building as her eyes began to burn red. The others paused as there was a sudden BANG and something rolled behind her. The two girls didn’t move, one was still petrified as the other protected her.
Regardless of what it was, Alicia thought, she wasn’t going to let them get away.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emer--- blimey.” the voice behind her gasped.
Briefly she let her attention stray, battering back her three targets with a slight wave of the hand sending them crashing into the wall where she slammed the first one moments before. “Hang on.” she asked, turning her attention back, this time reaching out to cause all three pain by stimulating their pain centers severely, making them scream.
“Here, here!” the voice yelled, “What ’u tink yer do--” (Alicia points her wand right at his head, his body shaking as he stands before her.) “Not now. I’m busy.”
But her attention strayed, allowing them to get up to run for it. However, before the three could run very far she raised her free hand (keeping her wand pointed steady at the conductor) and began to power it, forming a disc at the palm of her hand, extending it outwards making it grow. “Eviscerator--”
“STOP!!”
“--DISC!!”
She spins (wand still managing to keep itself pointed at the conductor through the large swinging motion of her body) and she lets the disc go, dead on at her prey. That’s when something shot out from behind her. “DISPELLIUS!!”
The shot was dead on, hitting the disc dead center, shattering it. The boys continued to run. “OH NO YOU DON’T!!” Alicia yelled, only to feel a strong hand grab her. “DON’T!”
She struggled, her eyes blazing, “LET ME GO!! LET ME GO!!”
“Don’t do it! Scum like that aren’t worth it!” Moody yelled.
“THOSE BASTARDS!! LET ME GO!!” she yelled, finally breaking free. The jolt sent both people falling to the sides of the alley, each collapsing against the wall opposite the other. Alicia’s eyes met Moody’s, and she scowled. “You let those BASTARDS get away!!”
“Not really.”
A horrific shriek filled the alley, then two more and silence.
“Better help me with their memories. Even love can’t wash away that kind of horror of listening to that.”
* * * * * *
It was an easy enough task to mend their memories, and set the two on their way again.
In the end they caught the bus that Alicia wanted, and she caught the Knight Bus.
Moody was in a good mood after being fed, and he seemed to have had a special little spot for the loud Spinnet, because he didn’t report her to the Ministry of Magic.
The Knight Bus driver and conductor (a Mr. Ernie Prang and Stan Shunpike) also had their memories altered, but just to the point that they didn’t remember the violence.
Still, as she stewed moodily in her bed (the entire bus made up like a dormitory with beds instead of bus seats) Alicia couldn’t let go to what they were doing. It boiled in her blood, and made her angry everytime the images of them doing worst to those girls if she hadn’t caught them came to mind.
As for what happened to them? Those evil things?
She knew it was better not to ask. At least for now.
* * * * * *
It lolled it’s head back and forth, blood dripping from it’s mouth as it surveyed the dead. It didn’t stay long, moving back to the rooftops as soon as it heard footsteps. As the reptilian form took refuge above, Moody looked over it’s work.
“Docile as a kitten, eh?” he sneered, “Shows what the lot of them at Azkaban know.”
He turns, and walks away, leaving the bodies behind. “Nobody ever misses trash like them anyway.” he mutters as he disappears into the alleys.
To Be Continued Next Weekend
(NOTE - Disclaimer time once again ladies and gentlemen! Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings. One book to completion of her series, three movies to go (with Order of the Phoenix coming in Summer of 2007). By the way, that means she only has until… hmm… I’d say we’ll see Harry Potter Year 7 the Movie by Summer 2010 if things go the way they do, so Rowlings will have to answer whether she’ll do anything with the Potter franchise past the last book of the series by then. Don’t envy her, by the way, when she finally makes her announcement if she hadn’t already.)
Four days had passed since the presents arrived. She had, of course, remembered to send one to Harry since (oddly enough) their birthdays were on the same day. Strange, but true. She had gotten him a set of books on the best teams in Quidditch, but mostly for enjoyment and the endlessly fascinating moving pictures of the most exciting games since he obviously didn’t need it for improving his game.
For awhile she enjoyed her days, pushing back her purchasing of the new year’s school supplies, and just enjoying herself to the fullest. There was no need to rush the trip back to school yet. But she couldn’t enjoy herself today. Not today.
Once again it had come about, whether she wanted it to or not. The day had come.
With a slight sigh of irritation, Alicia wearily went down to the Leaky Cauldron to eat breakfast before heading into the “Normal” world to conduct her business for today. The room, as usual, was filled with witches and wizards of all types, yet she didn’t feel like being a social animal. She simply requested a private booth, and set herself within to eat in private. That, more than anything, silenced the room.
Everybody was used to her usual jolly self in the room, her eagerness to jump into conversations and correct magic folks when they had a misconception about Muggles (“No, no, Pink Flamingos are not used to attack unsuspecting door to door salesmen.”), but today --- today was different and they all felt it.
She didn’t want company today. Even when her food was delivered she politely declined any offer of companionship and wished only to be alone. She wasn’t herself this morning, and nobody could figure out why.
It wasn’t the Dursleys, that’s for certain. She hadn’t returned to their home on Privet Drive in days and days. She kept in touch with Harry easy enough via her raven (who could deliver any message silently and without fail), and she hadn’t even thought of the Weasleys in a long while.
No, today was a particular “task” she did every year since she got here, which made this the third time since her arrival three years ago.
Outside people were murmuring, but instead of the normal daily business they were murmuring about her. To shut it out she pulled out her portable “telly” sphere from her pouch tesseract and set it on the table, tuning it to the W3N2 Wizarding WorldWide News Network).
“The magic community is warned that Black is considered extremely dangerous and prone to violence. The Ministry of Magic has set up a special hotline that can be reached via what Muggles call “telephones”, should any sighting of Black be made in the Muggle communities. Black should be considered extremely dangerous, and not approached under any circumstances.
Instructions on the proper use of a Muggle “telephone“, and the types of coins needed to work one can be requested from the Ministry of Magic. But stay tuned to this station as at the bottom of the hour our roving reporter will show you how to properly work the average Muggle Telly, and whether or not any of these devices with a focus on law enforcement alerting can actually be transformed into a mobile time machine.”
The news has been carrying on about Black non-stop it seems since he escaped. Meanwhile the other being that escaped, the unknown Ani-Magius, remained at large yet unreported on. Apparently he was really as harmless as the paper suggested, and people were more worried of the devil they knew (Black) than one that was unknown to them.
Pity they didn’t take Jack Lazarus’ Guardian Academy class on the “Darkling Element“ (darkness and evil intent in both nightmares and humankind), because as he was well known for drilling into new recruits “It’s always the devil you know the least that can prove to be the most dangerous.” (Jack Lazarus)
The only image they had of the strange entity was of a gaunt faced individual, his hair was a matted elbow length tangle. Of course that was before he broke out, which shouldn’t mean anything as even the dimmest of criminals knew to change their appearance after breaking out of jail so there stood a good chance that Black didn’t even look like this anymore (let alone the mysterious AniMagius). The news should have prepared more images of possible appearances he might have taken on, just to have been on the safe side.
The news shifted to Quidditch news (World Cup news again) and Alicia shut her sphere off and put it back into her tesseract pouch. While it was nice that they occasionally reported on other thing, it seems that the news media in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds have been hanging on Black’s story for days (though only the Wizarding world knew the truth about Black, or as much of the truth as they had about him), but not so much as to inform the public as it drew in good ratings. Like vultures to a dead carcass, the news tended to hover over stories like this until it was beaten to death. Still, if this over exposure helped capture Black then more power to the news media.
With that she finished her meal, tidied up (making a nice neat little pile for the cleaning staff to gather up) and made her way out of the doors of the Leaky Cauldron and into the Normal world. Right off the bat her day was already doomed.
She missed her first bus and had to wait for a second one, all the while being passed by wizards from the pub still wondering what was bothering her. She smiled, and tried her best to be polite, though they all were acting like she had lost a limb back at the pub and they were all trying to give her missing arm back to her (the way they fidgeted about her like nervous cats).
When she finally caught her bus and made it to the part of town she wanted to go she found the little store she wanted to visit was being visited already, by a gunman. With more than abit of annoyance in her voice, she stormed up to him and yanked the gun away screaming at him to get lost. Now, mind you, most Muggles should NEVER try such a stupid thing --- but then again she figured the bullets wouldn’t harm her anyway since her costume would only “emerge” from it’s resting spot in subspace to protect her, and she could have just yanked the gun free from his hand with abit of power. But she was in a foul mood, and he just so happened to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, she mused, at least she didn’t kill him. He should be grateful for that at least.
What was worst for her was, as she bought her picnic lunch, she almost forgot to pay in Muggle money (cursing as she almost handed the cashier a fistful of silver Sickles for her purchase). Today she was definitely not paying attention.
As she waited for her ride to the place where she was going to eat her lunch she felt her thoughts wander back to the permission form, and how to get it signed.
She had, for the past few days (from time to time) mulled over it. And while it wasn’t a top priority with her it still demanded some thought from her, and yet she still hadn’t come to a satisfactory conclusion over it. She could have had her “associates” who masqueraded as her parents sign it, but it could have opened a sticky cage of Cornish Pixies if they did a background check and found out her “parents” were not even related to her (and they were too vital to her as human resources to be disposed off so easily).
So far all she needed was a place for her mail to go that was, on the record, home, and that’s it. But this form could have opened up a deeper inquiry into her “life” and her “home” which was something she really didn’t want right now.
She didn’t know how they did it at Hogwarts, but she felt she had to play it safe rather than take a risk like this. So she still had the form, but nobody to sign it.
Stranger still was the fact that she tried to write to Harry two days ago for his advice, only for Chii to return to her with the note STILL in her possession and a small note asking her not to write for a few days. She thought it might have been that Mr. Dursley had “remembered” what she did to him, but in fact it was just that his “Aunt Marge” was visiting and she was, from what she could get in the one line or two he wrote about her, a major git and a half.
Oh, well, she was once again stuck with her perdictiment even after trying to palm it off onto someone else. One form, no signers, and no answers.
Maybe she was feeling a little bold because the next thought that came into her head was to send a message to Hermione to see if she could figure out a way around this.
But knowing her she’d just scold her for trying to get around the rules and reprimand her. She had already written to Hermione anyway, making her promise not to buy her school books since this year it was going to be Alica’s “treat” to buy them. Part in reason was to return the favor for the Animes she got her, part because it made Alicia all tingly to think about buying Hermione “gifts” (even if they were only school books). (Maybe she would “accidentally” sneak chocolates in, just because--)
A quick thought to try and get the Weasley brothers of George & Fred to “forge” a name on the form came up, but the form was probably magicked to detect that kind of trickery (and even if it wasn’t there was probably tests they’d do on the form to make sure it wasn’t monkeyed with).
Overall? When it came to this one form somehow her scrolls of homework seemed a helluva lot easier to fathom than the problems that this one piece of paper was giving her. Sure she could dodge out of going to Hogsmeade until she was old enough to go without permission from parents she didn’t have in this world, but still -- the thought of using Hogsmeade’s’ resources to court Hermione with gifts of affection intrigued her greatly.
Then there was the matter of Cho Chang. She’d been friends with the girl since first year (herself being a second year back then), and this year she heard Cho was going up for possibly becoming the Seeker for Ravenclaw. She thought for a few agonizing seconds about asking her, then declined it right off.
There was something that needed to be said about this.
Hermione was her crush, her interest and lost cause in love.
Cho Chang was her best friend -- but when last year ended, and Alicia took a pass at Cho saying “Seeing how I probably won’t make it out of Hogwarts with everyone and their Darke Raven uncle trying to off me, maybe I should seduce you now before I die a virgin? I mean I really really need it and I could see myself falling in love with you.”
“Ask me again in two years.” she simply said, and no more with a smile most perplexing on her lips. Walking off leaving Alicia confused, as they parted for the year.
Heh. Alicia almost thought it way too naughty to even humor the unlikely thought that Cho was-- but still, in letters she sent (via Chii since she knew how much Alicia hated owls) she had hinted that, if Alicia was serious, that they could POSSIBLY try it later. Alicia said yes, and Cho said this in the next letter to her.
“I want to court a Hufflepuff for awhile. Let’s stay friends until we’ve truly decided our heart’s desires, then we’ll make our choice then.”
What a cryptic message. A Hufflepuff? Why? And who did she--- Alicia smirked at the thought of Cho picking her after her Hufflepuff “courtier“, then smiled a more humble smile. She’s just a nice friend who wants to make Alicia happy. Ah, if only it could be true, that would be so sweet (and not bittersweet as it felt right now).
When she finally arrived at Big Ben a few minutes later it didn’t take long to find the place she was looking for. In the shadow of Big Ben, hidden out of sight of the Muggles, she tapped out a small sequence on an ordinary wall and opened a “door” to the most beautiful park in all of London. The park, which existed in a pocket “tesseract”, was huge and spanned as far as the eye could see. It was a hidden place of extreme beauty in the heart of the man made city of London. Trees, rolling hills of grass, and even a huge lake could be seen from her vantage point as she stepped through off of London’s hustle and bustle and into the serenity of “Tranquility Park”.
Tranquility Park was a place for magical folk to relax and enjoy themselves without having to spend time in the “normal” parks where Muggles hung around. It was their own private nature sanctuary all to themselves, and they did their best to keep it clean and tidy for all to enjoy. The park was maintained by a small rotating staff of wizards who constantly patrolled the park zapping litter and lecturing people to clean up after themselves.
Today was a nice day, as always, since the environment in the tesseract was always sunny (or a clear starry night if it was dark out in London), so it was as good a day as any for a picnic. Alicia set off across the grass, watching the birds fly by while minding not to step on the garden gnomes that wandered the landscape. She knew exactly where she was going. She’d done it before. But it had been a year since she was last there.
The last time she was there she was commuting between Diagon Alley & the Burrows (where Harry was staying after he had to be sprung from his “imprisonment” by the Dursleys on the day of his birthday), and she had almost forgotten to come. But since this year things were relatively quiet she didn’t forget -- even if at times she wished she could forget what happened there three years ago.
As she came over the tenth hill it came into sight. Rising up from the landscape was a quiet hill with a tall stone monument looking over the park from it’s vantage point.
The marker, which she paid for herself from the large fortune of galleons she “earned” from the one key she confiscated from that Darke Raven she chased to this world that day three years ago -- the day she killed the real Alicia Spinnet and assumed her place.
The monument was made in her honor. Her final resting place sorta since her body still walked the Earth despite the fact that the spirit within had gone to heaven a long time ago.
As she neared the marker, ready to set up for lunch, something felt wrong. Something was amiss. When she neared she saw that someone had vandalized the monument. Burned into the stone itself (no doubt with the use of a wand) were the words “DYKE” and “WHORE”.
Alicia’s eyes narrowed, and her teeth ground together as she stared at the words, each one burning into her mind’s eye. She raised a hand, only to feel someone else’s presence.
“Damn kids went and did it again, I see.”
The sound of shuffling and a steady thunk thunk thunk in the soft grass alerted her to the presence. With a ragged sigh she released her pent up anger slowly and turned towards the source of the words. “They did it again, Moody. Damn bastards --”
“Give ‘em a little credit.” Mad Eye Moody remarked as he neared, motioning towards the stone, “Least they managed to spell it right this time. Remember last time when they misspelled--”
“Don’t remind me.” Alicia sighed bitterly, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet as she examined it. “I guess I’ll have to repair it again.”
“Guess so. You brought lunch?”
“You know I did.”
* * * * * *
Tradition. She did it last year, and she was doing it again.
Lunch with the man who helped her defeat the Darke Raven she was hunting.
Once again he makes a table and two plush chairs appear on the hilltop, mostly since he would probably have a difficult time sitting on the grass with his wooden leg and all, and the two sit down. As they observed the fields of people relaxing, a coy thought came into Alicia’s mind.
“People probably think we’re spring/autumn lovers, you know. Wondering what kind of naughty mischief we’ll get into beneath the bushes after lunch---”
Moody frowned at her and took another bite of his chicken, looking about as usual for any sign of “Attackers”. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”
“That’s my line.” she retorted softly, chewing her food slowly as she looked back at the now cleaned and sanitized headstone. “Magical folk can be so ignorant at times.”
“Folk in general, or just me?”
“Don’t sass me.” Alicia grumbled, eyes wandering as she spoke slowly. “You know what I mean. Muggle this, Muggle that, dyke dyke --”
“Don’t be getting yourself all worked up.”
“WHY NOT!” she snarls, taking a bite out of her food, “I’ve been riled up since this morning. Nothing but Sirius Black staring me in the face on the news, and in the paper, and this ignorance today--” (shoving a hand out towards the tombstone as she goes on) “--it’s just getting on my nerves. If it’s not one thing, it’s the usual thing. And that usual thing being---”
“That usual thing being the homophobic nature of some of the younger wizards.”
“And Normals.” she finishes. Her shoulders slump abit as she speaks, “No wonder Cho didn’t give me an answer last year. Even the sweetest and gentlest of girls can be stumped when their best female friend makes a pass. Bet she thinks I’m some sort of freak now.”
“You’re quick to judge what others think of you.”
“Aren’t you the same?” Alicia retorted.
“Guess.” Moody accepts, smiling grimly at her as he watches her closely, “You really think that badly of others? That you can’t get close without being hurt? Do unto others as you want them to do unto--”
Alicia - “You swallow a bad fortune cookie or are you ALWAYS this annoying?!”
Moody goes back to eating, his magical eye continuing to swivel about endlessly.
‘God I hate remembrances.’ she growled to herself, in her thoughts.
* * * * * *
At the end they parted, and she laid her flowers at the base of the stone and prayed.
She didn’t know what “faith” or “beliefs” the real Alicia Spinnet had, so she could only do what she herself knew and that was the Goddess faith, which probably wasn’t what the real Alicia believed in. Still, better than nothing. She then spent the rest of the afternoon telling tales to the stone of what she did in school, the adventures and the mishaps, and wished that Alicia could tell her what Heaven was like.
She knew that Alicia went to Heaven in the end. She saw the angels come for her soul herself. But what happened next? Even she didn’t know.
At the end she packed up her basket (dropping the empty thing into one of her tesseract gems for safe keeping), and went back into the now darkened Muggle streets to head back to Diagon Alley. Night was descending on the streets, and it looks gloomy in the now ominous shadow of the towering Big Ben. Time, definitely, to go. All she had to do was get back to the bus stop and catch the next bus and she’d be on her way.
That’s when she heard the laughing, and in between a soft sobbing noise.
Her attention turned away from the bus stop, and deeper into the darkness.
She didn’t like the noise one bit, but she had to investigate. Drawing her wand (finely made custom job from Ollivander’s using a piece of rare wood from the Realm of Dreams and the “strings” of her own soul as it’s base) she held it out and tried to remember the word for light. “Lumos.” she finally remembered, shining a light ahead of her. A few feet down, and one turn, she ran into three robed boys (obviously magicals) tormenting two Muggle girls. One laid cowering on the ground, while the other shielded her from their gazes and taunts. One kept kicking the one on top.
“Like being on top don’t YOU! Slutty little Muggle dyke!”
“FUCKIN’ LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BASTARD!!” Alicia screaming in a rage.
“Come on! Let me kick the little pu--” (they turned and noticed Alicia, and she them), “Well if it isn’t the little dyke from---”
That’s all he said. Alicia’s eyes narrowed, her teeth clenched again (as before on the hill), only this time she had three live targets to “play” with.
She lowered her wand hand, and jerked him into the wall with her free hand, her power building as her eyes began to burn red. The others paused as there was a sudden BANG and something rolled behind her. The two girls didn’t move, one was still petrified as the other protected her.
Regardless of what it was, Alicia thought, she wasn’t going to let them get away.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emer--- blimey.” the voice behind her gasped.
Briefly she let her attention stray, battering back her three targets with a slight wave of the hand sending them crashing into the wall where she slammed the first one moments before. “Hang on.” she asked, turning her attention back, this time reaching out to cause all three pain by stimulating their pain centers severely, making them scream.
“Here, here!” the voice yelled, “What ’u tink yer do--” (Alicia points her wand right at his head, his body shaking as he stands before her.) “Not now. I’m busy.”
But her attention strayed, allowing them to get up to run for it. However, before the three could run very far she raised her free hand (keeping her wand pointed steady at the conductor) and began to power it, forming a disc at the palm of her hand, extending it outwards making it grow. “Eviscerator--”
“STOP!!”
“--DISC!!”
She spins (wand still managing to keep itself pointed at the conductor through the large swinging motion of her body) and she lets the disc go, dead on at her prey. That’s when something shot out from behind her. “DISPELLIUS!!”
The shot was dead on, hitting the disc dead center, shattering it. The boys continued to run. “OH NO YOU DON’T!!” Alicia yelled, only to feel a strong hand grab her. “DON’T!”
She struggled, her eyes blazing, “LET ME GO!! LET ME GO!!”
“Don’t do it! Scum like that aren’t worth it!” Moody yelled.
“THOSE BASTARDS!! LET ME GO!!” she yelled, finally breaking free. The jolt sent both people falling to the sides of the alley, each collapsing against the wall opposite the other. Alicia’s eyes met Moody’s, and she scowled. “You let those BASTARDS get away!!”
“Not really.”
A horrific shriek filled the alley, then two more and silence.
“Better help me with their memories. Even love can’t wash away that kind of horror of listening to that.”
* * * * * *
It was an easy enough task to mend their memories, and set the two on their way again.
In the end they caught the bus that Alicia wanted, and she caught the Knight Bus.
Moody was in a good mood after being fed, and he seemed to have had a special little spot for the loud Spinnet, because he didn’t report her to the Ministry of Magic.
The Knight Bus driver and conductor (a Mr. Ernie Prang and Stan Shunpike) also had their memories altered, but just to the point that they didn’t remember the violence.
Still, as she stewed moodily in her bed (the entire bus made up like a dormitory with beds instead of bus seats) Alicia couldn’t let go to what they were doing. It boiled in her blood, and made her angry everytime the images of them doing worst to those girls if she hadn’t caught them came to mind.
As for what happened to them? Those evil things?
She knew it was better not to ask. At least for now.
* * * * * *
It lolled it’s head back and forth, blood dripping from it’s mouth as it surveyed the dead. It didn’t stay long, moving back to the rooftops as soon as it heard footsteps. As the reptilian form took refuge above, Moody looked over it’s work.
“Docile as a kitten, eh?” he sneered, “Shows what the lot of them at Azkaban know.”
He turns, and walks away, leaving the bodies behind. “Nobody ever misses trash like them anyway.” he mutters as he disappears into the alleys.
To Be Continued Next Weekend
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