Chapter Text
On the other side of the hall a certain twin was having a difficult time focusing. Lee and George were telling Harry about a particularly nasty prank they had pulled on Filch in their third year. Hermione was attempting to help a flustered Ron with a spell they had been learning in Charms. Ron kept insisting his wand movements were fine, and was slowly starting to lean towards George, Lee, and Harry. Hermione rolled her eyes and took a long sip of pumpkin juice.
Fred found his attention wandering, along with his eyes, over to the Slytherin table. They fell, as they did every time, on the raven-haired Alice. His jaw twitched as he watched Zabini roar with laughter as pumpkin juice sloshed all over Alice. She waved off the Slytherin Quidditch Captain’s attempt to dry her with napkins.
With a gentle wave of her hand and flick of her wrist, Fred watched in wonder as Alice pulled the juice from the threads of her robes and redistributed the liquid into her goblet. Zabini was watching carefully too, and whatever he said made Alice blush, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. At that moment, she glanced up and met Fred’s eyes.
All the air seemed to rush out of him as he stared into her bright blue eyes. Her cheeks seemed to darken further, Fred could feel his own face heating up. She looked away quickly, but not before a flash of hurt seemed to dance across her face. Fred immediately felt like a right git for what he had said in Potions. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.
George noticed his twin’s demeanor and jabbed his side. “What’s this, the King who bested the Princess isn’t celebrating?” George crooned in mock disbelief.
Fred groaned in annoyance because now Lee, harry, Hermione, and Ron were looking at him curiously. “I…I just…Winters and I are Potions partners and I won the snapping match of the day,” Fred said lamely. He felt like a petty idiot. Ron joined Lee as he mock cheered for Fred.
Hermione, however, grimaced at the twin. “She’s really nice, actually. You all give her a bad rap just for being in Slytherin, and being better at Quidditch than the rest of you.” At this, Hermione rolled her eyes before continuing, “But, she’s not like Malfoy and the rest of them.” Her soft voice hit Fred like a ton of bricks, especially since he knew Hermione was right. Alice was kind and compassionate. She had saved several first years from the wrath of the Slytherins, and she was never pompous about her skill as a Chaser.
Fred couldn’t help but try to defend himself, “Anyone who can get along with Malfoy -”
But Harry, of all people, cut in. “Well…I think we can all agree Malfoy is a prat, but have you ever watched him when he’s around her? She’s like some off anger management charm for him.”
“It’s true, he doesn’t lash out like he normally does. Him and Zabini both are actually bearable around her.” George piped in, seemingly surprising himself at his own contribution to the conversation. His cheeks turned slightly pink and he began eating with a fervor.
Fred rolled his eyes at his twin before turning his attention to his food. “I don’t know, we just don’t get along.”
Blaise was right, some food and Quidditch was just what they all needed. She gripped the handle of her Thunderbolt VII. Alice cut a wide swath around the pitch. The wind whistled loudly in her ear as she leaned forward, urging her broom to go faster. The Thunderbolt VII was a controversial broom, thought to have sacrificed safety for speed.
But, Alice thought to herself, So long as I don’t get hit with a Bludger, safety isn’t really necessary. It was this line of thinking that flitted through her mind every time she mounted the broomstick. The wild rush of speed when she kicked off the ground was enough to erase any doubts or worries she may have held about the controversy surrounding the make of her broom.
Montague was gesturing wildly to her from forty yards below. Both his arms were swinging like oak branches above his head. Alice grinned and dipped into a dive towards the Captain. Despite his bulk, Graham was quite graceful on a broom, and he was fast enough. He acted more of an enforcer, usually wrestling the Quaffle for a turnover and getting it to Alice or Cassius so they could weave their way to the goalposts.
Crabbe and Goyle were hitting Bludgers at each other, laughing rather stupidly when Goyle whacked one particularly hard and it clipped Crabbe’s broom, spinning him wildly for a moment. Malfoy was bobbing up and down, his eyes darting around the pitch for a glint of gold. Zabini and Adrian Pucey, the back-up Chasers, were hovering near Miles Bletchley. The Keeper was miming something that had the other two boys snickering into their hands.
Alice rolled her eyes and pulled out of the dive. She closed her eyes at the force it took for her to stop level with Graham.
“Thanks for joining us, Winters.” Montague barked at her, all business, and called the rest of the team closer. “Crabbe, Goyle, one of you on each side. Aim at the Chasers, but please, no head shots, right?” The two Beaters nodded. Graham gestured at Pucey and Blaise. “You two, separate. Zabini, stay with Warrington, I’ll go with Puck.” Adrian rolled his eyes at the nickname. It was useless telling Graham to call him by his proper name. “Dragon,” Malfoy smirked at Graham’s chosen nickname for him. Alice rolled her eyes, Montague didn’t notice. “Do Seeker things. And Alice,” Alice straightened up on her broom, eager to start playing. “You’re neutral.”
She nodded, and flipped backwards away from the huddle. Draco circled above them as the rest of the team spread out. Graham raised the Quaffle and shouted, “Right, we’ve got an hour of practice. Whatever team wins, I owe you a round at The Three Broomsticks. Bletchley,” Graham looked over his shoulder to check in with the Keeper. “Ready?” Miles gave him a thumbs up. Graham chucked the Quaffle as high as he could, “LET’S GO!”
It took a fair amount of self control to not shoot after the Quaffle immediately. As a neutral, Alice needed a team to touch the ball before she could act. Miles tensed and began to slowly follow the path of the ball, always keeping in range of the three goalposts. Because Graham hadn’t found a satisfactory back-up Keeper, whenever there was a turnover, the team had to check the Quaffle at the center of the pitch before trying to have a go at Bletchley.
Zabini just beat Pucey for the Quaffle. Blaise dove immediately and passed it to Cassius, dodging Graham’s swipe. Alice spurred herself forward, flying parallel with Warrington as he pelted towards the goalposts. Miles watched them steadily, his broom bobbing slightly in anticipation.
“Here!” Alice shouted. Cassius punched the Quaffle to her, and she swung her left leg in a powerful arc to meet it. It was a good shot, a bit of curve and spin on it sent it shooting towards the farthest goalpost. But, Bletchley was a better Keeper. He jerked slightly backwards then dove forward to adjust to the curve, just slapping the Quaffle clear of the goal. Alice soared away, watching Graham snatch the ball and bring it back to the center, waiting for her chance to swoop into play.
The hour went by far too quickly. Alice tripped into the Slytherin common room, laughing uncontrollably as she took Draco down with her. Though they had changed into their regular clothes, the two were still covered in sweat from the practice. Blaise stepped in gracefully after them, purposefully trodding on the two as he passed. He was in a foul mood after Pucey had bulldozed him off his broom during a particularly aggressive attempt at a turnover.
“Night, 'Bini!” Alice shouted cheerily after his gloomy figure. With a mischievous look, Alice dove her fingers into Draco’s already mussed hair. The blond locks spiked easily with the help of the sweat build-up from practice.
He shook his head violently in protest. “Get off me!” Draco shoved Alice hard. She laughed again and rolled off of him. His normally pale face was bright right and shining with sweat, and his hair sticking straight up gave him a slightly insane look. He also had a dark streak of dirt across his forehead and left cheek. Draco had been a second too slow to pull out of a dive for the Snitch towards the end of the practice. His broom handle had hooked an edge on the ground and Draco had been thrown clear, but not before caressing the ground with his face.
Alice reached forward and swiped her finger through the dirt. “You sure you don’t want to run up to the Hospital Wing?”
“Nah,” Draco said. He slowly climbed to his feet. “I just need a shower and my bed.” He walked off towards the boys dormitory. Alice remained on the floor, her legs stuck out straight in front of her. “Night, Alley-cat.” Draco called over his shoulder, followed by a long yawn.
“Night, Dray.” Alice called back. Her eyes were burning, and her muscles ached beautifully from the rough antics of their practice. Crabbe and Goyle were getting better and better at aiming. Alice had a close call with a particularly well-placed hit from Goyle. The Bludger narrowly missed her head, and she’d dodged right into one of the curved edges of the goalpost. Her shoulder ached with the large bruise that blossomed after the collision.
She rubbed her tired eyes and slowly picked herself off the ground. The load of homework swam to the front of her mind. With a heavy sigh, Alice made her way to the girls dormitory. Carina was already snoring softly on the far side of the room. Her emerald drapes were open as always; Carina had a streak of claustrophobia in her. Chelsea and Hesper were sitting on Hesper’s bed. They were pouring over a shared letter; the two were cousins. It was often easiest to send one owl to and from home instead of two.
Alice murmured a quiet hello to the girls and made her way to the washroom. When she returned, Hesper was in her own bed next to Alice. She gestured to Alice’s pillow, “A letter came for you. Don’t know how that owl always finds its way here at this hour.” Hesper didn’t wait for anything relating to an explanation. The auburn hair girl closed her drapes, giving Alice some privacy.
Alice didn’t know how the family owl always seemed to find her either, but she had stopped being surprised about the arrival of letters to her dormitory after her second year.
Dearest,
Your father and I miss you. We went seal hunting the other morning, but it’s just not the same without you. Frank and Cecelia send their best wishes. If you could send the most recent news with your reply letter, that would be quite helpful. Your father has been talking about heading further into the bergs again. I still disagree with him; we are safe here, and we cannot move until you return to us regardless. Nevertheless, I know your father is afraid. We all are. We remember too much from before, some days it’s like it was yesterday, and the last fourteen years never happened. Stay safe and under the radar. Use your gifts to a minimum. Everything is changing, again, and remember: don’t trust anybody. Life is safer that way.
Love always,
Your mother
Alice reread the letter two more times before she held it aloft over the side of her bed. Fire was difficult for her at times. She had to recall an intense emotion to ignite it. Her parents had always been straightforward about their feelings of trust. It was often misplaced. And after-all, as Alice’s father was fond of saying, only an ally can betray you.
She thought of her parents being chased through alleyways like rats, pushing further and further North, and finally burrowing into the stone and ice to survive. Enough anger and sadness flared in Alice to create a ball of fire in her palm. The letter curled and burned in the orange flame. A pleasant warmth filled Alice, and she didn’t release the fire until the letter was nothing but soft ash. Her hand dimmed and fell into darkness as the it went out. The ash slid through her fingers. She would worry about her homework tomorrow.
Potions that Monday was not going well. Alice was beyond frustrated. Her hair was strung up in a tight ponytail, and the sleeves of her uniform were shoved past her elbows. Sweat clung to her brow, and she impatiently wiped it against the bunched up folds of her robe.
The class was supposed to be making a potion similar to the Drink of Despair, it was sort of a second cousin. Unlike the Drink of Despair, which induced panic, pain, hallucination, and thirst, this concoction only created panic and pain. Why they were making such a draught, Alice had no idea.
She stared hard into her cauldron, the forest green liquid stared mockingly back at her. It should be a teal color, similar to the emerald of the Drink of Despair, but diluted with a touch of blue. Fred, she noted with irritation, had completely given up on the complicated potion. He and George had focused their efforts in bewitching a paper bird to flit between the twins. They were working very hard to keep the neatly folded creature out of sight from the hook-nosed Professor.
Alice huffed and tore her gaze from the unchanging potion. Hesper, and Chelsea were half-heartedly poking at the liquid in their cauldrons. Carina and Miles were chucking bits of dragon heart string at Warren and Graham. The latter pair were at least trying to finish the potion, but they seemed to be fairing even worse than Alice.
Professor Snape was pouring over several pages of parchment. Occasionally his face would twist into a sneer and he would scratch something out, or scrawl a comment aggressively in the margins. They still had another thirty minutes to finish the assignment, and Snape seemed wholly unbothered by the lack of success in the classroom.
Determined to move on from the forest green color, Alice studied her text again. The potion required a surprising amount of Lobalug venom, most likely to deter a wizard from healing themselves with magic immediately. The venom would create a deterrence as well as provide a catalyst for the pain. Perhaps if she just added some more…
She quickly measure out a second dose of the venom, careful to not spill any on her bare skin. Alice gently stirred her cauldron while she gradually added the extra dose of venom. A smile built across Alice’s face as she noted, with delight, that the color in her cauldron was beginning to lighten to a beautiful teal.
It was here that disaster struck. Alice leaned over her cauldron, one arm confidently stirring the mixture, and the other lightly pressed on the side of the cauldron to steady it. Meanwhile, George made a particularly dramatic gesture with his wand. The bird spiraled past Snape’s head with a small trill. The Professor turned quickly and Fred darted sideways to catch the paper animal before the Professor identified the source of the disturbance. As Fred snatched the bird out of the air, his arm came crashing down against Alice’s cauldron, and the entire thing tipped over.
It seemed to happen in slow motion for Alice. One moment she was watching her potion lighten to a splendid teal with triumph, and the next she was watching it slosh over the side as the cauldron tumbled off its base. The teal liquid rushed over the left arm that Alice had pressed against the cauldron. It latched confidently to her pale skin, covering her forearm and splashing sporadically up to her shoulder.
For a split second, Alice stared at her doused arm in bewilderment, then a rush of fire erupted through her arm. Alice was shocked to hear terrible scream of agony claw its way up and out of her throat. Panic flooded her veins, clouded her eyes, and blanketed her brain. She shoved the dripping cauldron away from her and fell backwards off her stool. The fire raged in her arm, she could feel the invisible flames feasting on her flesh and lapping at her veins.
There was no sound, or perhaps her screams had deafened Alice. She could feel the ragged flesh of her throat constrict as she released another panicked screech of pain. Finally, a single thought burst through the fog of panic.
Water in the Flobberworm Mucus. Immediately, Alice waved her right hand along her infect arm, extracting the elements that shared properties with water. The pain lessened from a raging, crackling fire, to a smoldering flow of lava. Her vision was becoming clear again, and her ears were now registering the clatter of the class and shouts between the students and Professor Snape beyond Alice’s own screams.
Fred’s obnoxious mop of hair swam into focus. “YOU ABSOLUTE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, IDIOTIC GIT!” Alice roared before giving into another scream of pain as an icy-hot dagger dug into her arm.
Surely the limb would crumble and fall off at any moment. Alice shook the irrational thought from her mind immediately. She could see the black-robed figure of Professor Snape forcing his way through the crowd of students. Alice’s panic was fading, and she vaguely considered that was something the would need to improve the next time she tried to make the potion.
The dagger was replaced by a sawing, the lava flowing into the cracks created in her bones. The small amount of water she had been able to bend out had not halted the physical effects. The teal liquid was steadily eating through arm. Tears were rolling freely down Alice’s face. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her breathing. Her lungs shook unsteadily as she drew a breath in, then out, in…and out.
She didn’t hear Snape finally get through to her desk, where he promptly shoved Fred out of the way and crouched to examine Alice. She didn’t hear his strained voice bark instructions to Alice, and accusatory questions at Fred.
Instead, Alice was focusing on temporarily stopping the flow of blood to and from her arm. She couldn’t risk the potion spreading to her heart, the pain would surely kill her. It was a trick bit of water bending that had been dubbed ‘blood-bending,’ but it did the trick. Her arm grew slightly colder, but the pain was not as fierce. There was an uncomfortable, blistering, pressure in her arm as the concoction slowly continued eating through her bones. It was a pain Alice could bear, however.
“Miss Winters.” Professor Snape’s voice finally broke through her awareness. Alice opened her eyes slowly, and met his glittering black orbs. At her attention, Snape grabbed her wrist and studied it carefully, taking note of Alice’s right had, which remained taut and tensed as she continued the halt of blood in her arm. The Professor muttered something about venom and blood before turning his black eyes on her again. “Fascinating work.” She managed a small smile, and Snape seemed to relax a fraction at the sign of life in her. “Full marks for the day I think. Weasley!” Snape barked at Fred.
He was still sprawled on the ground where Snape had shoved him in his effort to examine Alice. The twin was ashen faced, and was staring at Alice with frightened eyes. As Alice surveyed her lab partner, she realized with embarrassment that she was surrounded by the horrified faces of her entire Potions class. George was looking uneasily at the entire scene, Angelina looked terrified, and Katie had an iron grip on Lee Jordan’s arm. Hesper was trying to get closer to Alice, and Carina looked close to tears. Chelsea was using to opportunity to have Warren hold her comfortingly, and Graham, Cassius, and Miles all looked terrified.
When Fred finally tore his eyes from Alice to look at Snape, the Professor snarled, “Fifty points - no - one hundred points from Gryffindor. And take Miss Winters to the hospital wing at one.” When Fred didn’t immediately move, Snape’s roared filled the dungeon. “NOW, WEASLEY!”
Fred scrambled to his feet, reaching to help Alice up. She sputtered dramatically, scooting away from Fred. “Professor, really I can take myself -”
“You look like death. I wouldn’t be surprised if you collapse the second you stand.” Professor Snape’s cold voice cut off any of Alice’s attempts to argue.
Alice frowned, clapped her right hand to her left forearm to make sure the blood flow was still halted, and stood defiantly. Immediately, she felt a wave of nausea rise in her stomach, and it took all her self control to not start crying again at the fresh wave of pain that flowed through her arm at the movement. With a curt nod, Alice turned on her heel and strode out of the room.
Once she reached the stone hallway, however, she collapsed against the stone wall, sweat clinging to her brow. The nausea boiled in her stomach. Alice did her best to swallow it down, breathing deeply to settle the reaction. She panted slightly and screwed her eyes shut. Her back stiffened and she pushed herself off the wall as the door scraped open.
An abashed Fred stood in the hallway with her. He was stared at the floor before looking at Alice through his lashed. She snorted in anger and turned to walk briskly down the hallway. She got about five feet before she collapsed again, unable to hold back her gasp of pain.
“Alice, stop!” Fred rushed to her side and attempted to help her up. Alice pushed him away, then pathetically fell back on the ground.
She glared up at Fred. “I don’t need your help.” She lied.
Fred cocked his eyebrow at her and tilted his head, studying her collapsed form. “Clearly,” he said dryly.
The dim light in the dungeon hall made his chocolate eyes glow warmly, and he was smiling rather exasperatedly at her. He really is quite handsome, Alice thought as she glared up at Fred. Her eyes bugged slightly at the sudden thought and she dropped her gaze quickly.
Fred huffed in annoyance, “Honestly, Alice. It’s my fault you got hurt. Let me help you.” Alice sighed in defeat. Her vision was starting to blur from the pain, and she just didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.
The moment she nodded, a pair of muscular arms curled around her back and hooked under her knees. Fred hoisted her into the air as easily as if she were stuffed animal. He rested her against his chest and began walking quickly towards the Hospital Wing.
Alice couldn’t hold on anymore. Her circulation slowly returned, and the pain began to increase. Her head flopped against Fred’s chest. It was warm, and firm, and she could hear the steady thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart. She slipped into unconsciousness.