:)
In preparation for Bill and Fleur's wedding, Al found her time spent doing various household tasks. Harry, Ron and Hermione complained about being separated, but thankfully Al hadn't been separated from George. She was writing out the name cards while he folded the fancy napkins. Every now and then she'd pause to admire her ring, or her fiance, smiling to herself. "So..." she said from opposite him, putting her quill down, "When d'you want to get married?"
"After you graduate, I think," he said quietly, "Or will you not be going back?" They hadn't really discussed this, and Al bit her lip.
"I'm going back," she told him, "whether they let me or not."
George dropped the napkin he'd been folding. "That sounds dangerous," he said, frowning.
"I said I would," she said with a shrug. Their conversation would have continued, had Mrs Weasley not shooed George upstairs to sort the washing.
*****
Four days after their arrival it was Harry's birthday. His seventeenth - the big one. Al gave him his present first thing in the morning. It was, of course, a book - Evade Capture Like an Auror. She thought it was appropriate. "I wanted to get you something else, but I had to owl order it," she explained, but Harry's face split into a grin nevertheless.
"It's fantastic," he promised her, "Thank you."
Later on in the day, a fair few people arrived for his birthday meal, including Hagrid, Remus and Tonks. They were just getting ready to sit down and Mrs Weasley was levitating the giant snitch cake across the lawn, when a weasel patronus arrived, and to Al's surprise, Mr Weasley's voice spoke from it. "Minister for magic coming with me."
Al saw from the other side of the garden that Tonks and Remus had leaped over the garden wall and a moment later Mr Weasley appeared at the gate with Scrimgeour in tow. "Pardon my intrusion," he said, mainly to Harry, "I require a private word with you, Mister Potter." Everyone in the garden tensed. "And with Mister Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, and Miss Alexandra Dursley."
"What for?" Al asked caught off guard.
"Perhaps there is somewhere more private we can discuss that," Scrimgeour said to her, but looking at Mr Weasley.
"Certainly," he said, "The living room's empty." Al clutched her wand in her pocket as she walked alongside and slightly behind Scrimgeour, who was following Harry, Ron and Hermione.
As soon as they were inside Al had her wand out, but not raised, and turned to Scrimgeour. "How did you know where to find us?" she asked aggressively.
Scrimgeour merely looked amused. "I asked, Miss Dursley. Arthur told me after I had guessed."
"What do you want then?" Harry asked, as aggressively as Al had.
"I wish to speak to each of you individually," Scrimgeour said, "Ronald, perhaps I can start with you?"
"If you want to talk to us you'll have to do it all together," Harry said with a frown and Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Very well," Scrimgeour said, settling in an armchair and indicating that the others do the same. They obliged. "I'm here, as I'm sure you're aware, because of the will of Albus Dumbledore." Harry, Ron and Hermione had the Gryffindor instinct to look surprised, and Al would have too if she didn't have six long, hard years of Slytherin training behind her. "A surprise apparently-"
"Dumbledore died over a month ago," Harry said, frowning, "Why has it taken so long?"
"Because the thirty-one days are up," Hermione said, sounding like a library as usual, "And the Ministry can't confiscate items longer than that."
"Well then," Scrimgeour said, unravelling a scroll, "The first is to Mister Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave my delluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it." He handed Ron something that looked like a silver cigarette lighter. "Do you have any idea why he might have given this to you?"
Ron shrugged, "Put out lights, I suppose."
Scrimgeour nodded. "And would you say you were close to Dumbledore?"
Ron spoke without thinking. "No, not re-"
"You're being modest, Ron," Hermione cut across, but the damage was done. "Professor Dumbledore was very fond of you."
Scrimgeour sighed and moved on. "To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive." Scrimgeour handed Hermione a battered leather book with Runes inscribed on the cover. "Did Dumbledore ever discuss means of communication through code with you, Miss Granger?"
"Don't insult him!" Al said suddenly, "Dumbledore wasn't stupid. If he was going to pass on a message he wouldn't do it like that."
"I did not mean to offend you, Miss Dursley," Scrimgeour said, remaining calm, and Al shut her mouth.
A few tears dripped down onto Hermione's book. "He didn't," she said, "He just knew I loved books."
"To Miss Alexandra Rosalind Dursley, I leave my moleskin notebook, hoping it will preserve my memory and remind you to trust, and to love." Al rolled her eyes and accepted the notebook, which had a little metal plaque wrapped around the side with a small screw through it, sealing it. It looked brand new. She put it down on her lap and looked back up, almost straight away. "We have not been able to open this notebook, Miss Dursley," Scrimgeour informed her.
"No?" she asked disinterestedly, "Maybe that's the point. I should trust him enough to not read his thoughts."
"It looks brand new," Scrimgeour pointed out.
"Professor Dumbledore was a careful man," Al said, her words dripping with venom, angry that she had had to come to his defence. Trust and love - what kind of message was that?
"Finally to Mister Harry James Potter," Scrimgeour continued, "I leave the snitch he caught in his first quidditch match as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill." Scrimgeour pulled out the golden snitch from his bag, and Al instantly saw what he was doing, and what Dumbledore was doing. Snitches had flesh memories, and Harry had caught it in his mouth. It took all her will not to smile at the thought of Dumbledore chuckling away in the afterlife. "A snitch is a very good object to store small objects in - you know why I'm sure?"
It was Hermione that answered. "Snitches have flesh memories."
"Correct," Scrimgeour said. "I have no doubt that Dumbledore may have enchanted this so that it only opens at your touch." All was quiet. "Take it."
Harry hesitated, looking into Scrimgeour's eyes. Do it, Al thought to him, It'll be fine, just do it. Harry didn't acknowledge that the message had gone through, just took it. As predicted, nothing happened. "Dramatic," Harry said coolly, and Al snorted.
"Dumbledore also left you a second item, Mr Potter," Scrimgeour continued, "The Sword of Godric Gryffindor."
"Where is it then?" Harry challenged. Al thought about why Dumbledore would even bother putting it in his will, when the Ministry would obviously confiscate it. But then she realised - he just needed Harry to know that he'd wanted him to have it, so that Harry could get it himself. She was brought back into action when Scrimgeour pushed his wand into Harry's chest.
She jumped up and raised her wand at him, daring him to do anything, but Hermione stopped her. "Do you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?"
"I'd like to see him try," Al growled, stowing her wand away nevertheless.
"So it's true then?" Scrimgeour asked, "You do have a special power?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Minister," Al said coldly, "I was referring to the fact that I'm a champion duellist." She wasn't referring to that at all, but he didn't need to know that.
Mr and Mrs Weasley hurried in to see Scrimgeour lowering his wand. "Is everything alright?" Mr Weasley asked breathlessly.
"Fine," Scrimgeour said, grabbing his cloak, before turning back to Harry. "I regret your attitude." He strode from the room, and Al only put her wand away after Mrs Weasley announced he was gone. She picked up the notebook and looked it over. In the middle of the screw was a tiny hole, but other than that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She stuffed it in her pocket - she could inspect it later.