Mystique → Hermione Granger [2] ✔

I 11 I Holiday Discoveries

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Harry, as it turned out, was not expelled. He told them afterwards that Professor McGonagall took him to the Headmaster's office (Hermione gasped, horrified). They'd all feared the worst until Harry hastened to reveal that Dumbledore believed him – that he had nothing to do with the attacks. Harry also didn't tell Dumbledore about the voices, to Hermione's disapproval, but Alexander figured this to be a good idea. The last thing they needed was for Harry to be branded crazy. It was up to them to discover what the voices meant. They tried to tell the teachers last year but no one believed them, this year would be no different.

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick transformed what had hitherto been nervousness into a real panic. It was Nick's fate that seemed to worry people the most. What manner of being or spell could do that to a ghost? What terrible power could harm someone already dead? Hermione was in the library constantly now, searching up anything that would divulge something. Not that she had much luck.

As for Alexander, he was frequently on edge. It wasn't so much for himself, but his friends that he was anxious for. Any one of them could be attacked at any time. He clung to the hope that the monster would show itself and this would be over soon – he had to believe that. If he happened to face the monster, he hoped to have enough courage. Yet, at times, Alexander couldn't help the fearful thoughts flashing into his mind. Especially at night, when he lay staring up at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, Ron snoring noisily one bed down. What if he was Petrified? What if the time came and he didn't have the skills or strength? It was meant to be a terrifying monster. No mere second year was going to beat it. And how was he, or anyone else for that matter, supposed to put a stop to a monster he can neither see nor hear? It seemed futile . . .

For the rest of the school, the solution was simpler. There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express.

'At this rate, we'll be the only ones left,' said Ron. 'Us, except Alex, of course – Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be.'

'Do try not to kill them, but I wouldn't blame you if you do,' said Alexander wryly, legs sprawled out on an armchair.

As people were afraid of Harry, most of the seats around them were emptier. First years refused to even look at any of them and would huddle together in a circle as if protecting each other somehow. Other years hid in their dormitories or were absent from the common room.

Alexander glimpsed at Harry. 'Bet Harry's glad, though – no one will bother him now that they're all going home, eh, Harry?'

'It'll be a welcome change, yeah,' sighed Harry, nodding, 'it just can't come soon enough.'

It didn't take a genius to realise how tired and frustrated Harry had become after the Duelling Club revelation. There was not one person in the school who was not aware that he spoke Parseltongue. Alexander noticed that people skirted around Harry in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; they'd also given up any shame in their blatant mutterings, pointing, and hissings. Alexander wasn't even on the receiving end and he was fed up with it.