Al got up early the next morning to go for her run, and was very glad she did because it was a beautiful morning, the highland air being crisp and fresh. She arrived back at the dorms at seven-thirty and got showered and dressed just in time to leave for breakfast with Daphne and Theo. They ate an amazing cooked breakfast, before Snape came along with their timetables. Daphne was cleared to do Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defence and Ancient Runes, and Theo signed up for Charms, Transfiguration, Defence, Ancient Runes, Potions and Arithmancy. "Oh we've got Ancient Runes now," Daphne said, "We'll see you at lunch, Al," she promised and the two of them sped off out the Great Hall.
"Dursley," Snape said, impatiently. Al looked up at him, still reminded of the month locked in that cellar, despite far worse things happening since then.
"Alchemy, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Magical Theory please," Al said.
"You might want to consider another option as well," Snape said, "Alchemy is only a one year course."
"Is it a whole NEWT?" Al asked.
"As opposed to..." Snape taunted.
"I'll just do those ones, thank you, Professor," Al said politely.
"Not Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Who will I have next year?" Al retorted, trying and failing to sound polite. No one around her spoke.
"Detention, Dursley," Snape said and Al sighed. She hadn't even done anything. "Tonight, my office." He tapped his wand on the parchment. "And you're cleared." Al peered down at the lessons she had today. Double Alchemy, Arithmancy, a free period and then double Potions. That would make a pretty good Monday if it wasn't for the detention she already had.
Al headed for the exit, but a hand grabbed her wrist. She turned around and saw Draco stood there, his eyes pleading. "Let go of me," she hissed, pulling at her hand, but his grip was iron tight.
"Al," Draco said, "Just listen-" There was a bang and he stumbled back. Al lowered her wand, the stinging hex having worked. She turned to leave when she heard him say, "Aguamenti!" and found herself soaking wet. People were watching now, and several teachers had stood up.
"Leave me alone," Al said, turning around again.
"No," came the simple reply. Al's face grew hot with fury. She knew he was goading her, and she shouldn't turn around. But she so wanted to.
"What is your problem?" Al shouted, "You. Are. A. Coward! Why won't you just drop it and leave me alone?" McGonagall was rushing towards them now, but Al wanted an answer.
"Because I love you!" All movement and chatter in the hall stopped. Al stared at him, open-mouthed.
"I've known you for five years," Al finally said slowly, "Why are you only telling me this now?" Every cold word she spoke hung in the air, and she had everyone's undivided attention.
"Because-" Draco began, almost teary.
"Because it's not true!" Al shouted, "Because you are a lying COWARD!"
"That is enough!" McGonagall hissed, ushering them out, "Ten points each from Slytherin! Now go to your lessons!"
Al rushed off to get the books she needed and then headed up to the seventh floor corridor, where a few Gryffindors milled around, but it was otherwise empty. She located the correct classroom and let herself in, taking a seat in the third row by a window, checked she was alone and burst into tears.
After about five minutes, Al looked around the room. It was laid-out like a Potions classroom, with stools and raised desks instead of the usual desks. The only difference was the lack of gruesome animal parts in jars, and the sunlight that flooded through the windows. The bell went, and still no one had arrived. The corridor outside grew silent, and Al checked her timetable. She was definitely in the right room.
She frowned. Where was the class, or the professor? Was this some kind of trick that Snape had played on her? Or something more sinister? She dug her wand out from her pocket and looked around the room, frowning. She held her breath listening intently. A slight sound came from the corner behind her. So slight, she could hardly hear it.
A quiet ticking noise came from the corner behind her. There were no clocks or instruments is the room, however. None that she could see anyway. She raised her wand, pointing it directly at the corner, and said, "homonum revellum." In front of her materialised a person. First their star-embroidered robes, then their long white, beard and finally the face of Albus Dumbledore. Al stared intently at his amused expression, but did not lower her wand. "What drink did you offer me in the summer holidays?" she asked, still suspicious.
"Madame Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead," Dumbledore said calmly, and Al put her wand back in her pocket, and gathered her bag and books.
"Sorry, Professor," she said, "I must have found the wrong room. I'll go and rectify it with Professor Snape."
"You aren't taking Alchemy?" Dumbledore asked, "I confess myself disappointed. You're the first student that's expressed an interest in four years."
"You're the Alchemy professor?" Al asked, sliding back into her seat. Dumbledore nodded, perching on the teacher's desk. "Of course!" she said, "You've worked with Nicolas Flamel!"
"I have indeed," Dumbledore said, "Now before we begin, I have a few personal matters to discuss with you." Al remained silent, so he continued, "I would like you to have private lessons with me, once a week."
"Are we not already doing that?" Al asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "But this class is more important than a NEWT."
"What would it involve?" Al asked.
"I'd like to prepare you for the war and fighting Voldemort," Dumbledore said simply. Al wouldn't have said she was surprised. Just a little shocked. "I'd like to work on the soul power that you told me about last year, and explain Voldemort's horcruxes."
He wasn't surprised that Al wasn't surprised. He only raised his eyebrows. "I found a book in the restricted section," Al explained, "Third-year. I guessed that the diary had been one, and began looking for the others."
"I have since removed the book. I presume Sirius knew of this?" Dumbledore asked, "That's why he left all of Regulus's notes to you?"
"Yes, Sir," Al confessed, her face growing hot.
"Well, I'd like you to assist me in hunting down the others," Dumbledore said, "And then you'll be in a better position to aid Harry next year."
Al swallowed. "Are you dying, Professor?"
Dumbledore gave her a kind smile, "I am," he confessed, "But to the educated mind, death is but the next great adventure."
"So these lessons," Al asked again, "What about my soul power?"
"I have grown concerned," Dumbledore said, "That you have only ever used your power out of hate or anger." Al made to protest, but Dumbledore held up his hand. "Rightly so. And somewhat out of love. You saw the people you loved at the leaving feast, and you loved Draco before he hurt you so much."
"Well you can't have love without hate," Al said, "It's like a spectrum, and without one end you can't have the other."
"I'm glad you see it so," Dumbledore said with a smile, "These are very wise words. Nevertheless, I would like you to learn to control it out of love. And to grow it."
"I have a question, Sir," Al asked, and he nodded for her to continue, "Why does Voldemort want me to join him? I'm a muggle-born, and isn't he against muggle-borns?"
"To some extent," Dumbledore said, "But he has other priorities that come before that. His fears and emotions for example. Voldemort is terrified of death - it's why he made the horcruxes to begin with."
"So you think he just wants to use me as a weapon?" Al asked, "That his image of being anti-muggle would be a mask?"
"Some of the most powerful members of our society are anti-muggle," Dumbledore explained, "And it would certainly increase his recruitment process to take that stand too. But I don't think he cares as strongly as one might think."
"His Pa was a muggle," Al remembered, "He told me so in the graveyard. Do you think that's where he gets some of his hate from?"
"Very good," Dumbledore said, "I do think so, yes. But you, Al, are a witch. I am only relieved he has not offered you a deal that you are unable to resist." Al just looked at him, thinking. "You are a Slytherin, Al, and I would like to know why," Dumbledore asked quietly. "Why not a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?"
"Harry, Sir," Al said simply, "I spent most of my childhood devising plans to get Harry out of trouble and keep him there. The hat said that I was cunning, determined, resourceful. It never mentioned ambition, but I think I've developed that over time."
"And what is your ambition now, Al?" he asked, and Al thought it must be purely out of curiosity.
"I want to keep my loved ones safe," Al said, "And hopefully unite Hogwarts when the time comes."
Dumbledore nodded. "I believe Voldemort would like that too," he said, "But in a different sense. He believes Slytherin is the greatest house and is proud of his ancestry-"
"Voldemort's descended from Slytherin?" Al asked, astounded.
"The Gaunts were the last living descendants of Salazar Slytherin, yes," Dumbledore said, "But this we can discuss in our private lessons. I would now like to discuss your relationship with Draco Malfoy."
"There isn't one, Sir," Al said quickly, "I don't want anything to do with him."
"Oh, but there is!" Dumbledore said, "You brought out the best in Mr Malfoy, and I fear he would've been led down a darker path had you not been friends for so many years."
"What are you saying?" Al asked hesitantly.
"I would like you to show that you are still an ally to him," Dumbledore said, "That he can trust you. And then when his trust is gained, I would like you to offer his family protection from Voldemort."
"But they're Death Eaters!" Al protested, "Draco's already made his position clear-"
"Has he?" Dumbledore asked, "Draco acted out of fear in the Department of Mysteries. And people do wildly stupid things out of fear. I would like you to show him how to be brave. And I think we've established, you only have a year." There was a pause; a silence shared between them, and Al found her mind wandering back to the prophecy again until Dumbledore spoke. "And now - Alchemy."