Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Holy Cricket! As Hermione would say. Two updates within a short space of time, what is wrong with me? It's almost like I'm getting back into the story again, or alternatively it has just been so long since anything happened with this story that I thought you deserved a few updates at once. Hope you enjoy and please R&R if you have the time and inclination, I like to hear comments, feedback, and general babblings regarding the story.

A Turn for the Worst

The New Year brought many new and some unexpected happenings at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The first, and perhaps most surprising of all, was that Ron began to spend an unusual amount of time sitting at the Ravenclaw table, reading up on mythical creatures, wandering off suddenly in corridors and generally being anywhere Luna was. Not that he liked her of course, not like that, she was just a friend, he would insist frequently. Ginny declared it nauseating, but Alice thought it was sweet and forbade Fred and George from saying anything to him about it. So far they seemed to have complied, though she suspected they were simply biding their time.

Ron and Luna were not the only students who had been caught up in whatever was going round at Hogwarts. Much to her dismay, Cedric and Cho Chang had become the school's new golden couple, they were the topic on everyone's lips for a week after the Ball and Alice tried hard to tune out of these conversations whether they involved boys exclaiming what a lucky bloke Diggory was or envious girls muttering mutinously about Cho. The glimmer of a silver lining which she managed to steal from this is that it thoroughly scotched any rumours going round that she herself was going out with Cedric and she was no longer an object of antipathy for the school's female population.

Love seemed to be well and truly in the air that month and even Neville took to following Ginny around like a lovesick puppy for a week until she gently informed him they were perhaps better off simply as friends. Much to her surprise Alice found her friend dealt with this rejection remarkably well, though she herself was a little colder towards Ron's sister for a few weeks as payback. Even if she had helped her with her hair for the Ball.

With Christmas past there was renewed excitement amongst the students about the Triwizard Tournament, dampened only slightly by a spray of articles in the Daily Prophet detailing the Ministry's efforts to step up security at the school in the aftermath of the dragon incident and more widely across the wizarding world in light of the attack on Gringotts. A culprit for which had still to be found.

"But that was months ago!" Ron, who was eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table for a change, declared between mouthfuls of drippy, egg-soaked toast. "Do you reckon they know something we don't?"

"Like how to eat without drenching themselves in food?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust as a particularly greasy globule dropped onto the front of his robes, running down to join the others which had gone before it.

Ron threw her a vicious look.

"Maybe," Harry mused, pouring over the paper, "or maybe they're just being cautious. You know what Fudge is like."

"They're probably worrying over nothing," added Neville.

As though his words had been heard by some mocking god there was a sudden commotion as a feathered cloud burst into the Great Hall, startling students into an uproar and causing Ron to spray a mouthful of eggy mush back onto his plate.

"What in Merlin's name…?" Alice gaped up at what appeared to be every single owl in the world as they descended on the tables. Obviously owls were not an uncommon sight at Hogwarts, especially at breakfast time; what was so bewildering was the fact that they had already descended, in all their winged glory, not twenty minutes ago.

Once they had flapped and clattered their way on to the tables Alice could see that each bird had the same piece of parchment tied to its leg. For a moment everyone in the Great Hall seemed unsure of what to do, they scrambled to salvage their meals from beneath disrespectful beaks and claws, whispered and hissed to each other, but were all reluctant to actually take the delivery. After all none of the parchments seemed to be addressed to anyone. Finally, as though some unspoken group decision had been reached, they all began to snatch at the mail, tearing open the parchments and scanning them rapidly.

Alice was too slow in reaching for the closest owl, but thankfully it was Harry who beat her to it and so she was able to pour over it from her vantage point by his shoulder. What she saw made her blood run cold.

"DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL!" It screamed.

"DEVASTATING EXPLOSIONS AT ST MUNGO'S: DOZENS FEARED DEAD!"

She didn't even need to read the article to know who was responsible. Even without the recent spate of attacks loosely attributed to Death Eater activity the picture directly below these words said it all. An image of a busy, muggle shopping street, which she vaguely remembered reading was the cover for St Mungo's scarred by an enormous blackened hole. It was all too reminiscent of what had happened at Gringotts. There was one, stomach churning, blood freezing difference however. As muggles and wizards alike ran in all directions past the photographer an image shimmered high in the sky, just visible against the glare of the winter sun.

The photograph was black and white, but Alice knew from books she had read about darker times that if it had been in colour the undulating skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth would have been a worthy shade of Slytherin green. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry anymore.

There was a numb silence as everyone in the Great Hall stared at the news in horror and revulsion. The grainy picture staring back at them did nothing to soften the horror of the scene; blood clearly spattered the pavement as an arm flopped lifelessly into the corner of the shot.

"Merlin," Hermione hissed, her voice barely audible. "Do you think that anyone was..." She couldn't make herself say it.

Ron gulped, for once he couldn't seem to face his breakfast either. "Well that's... that's the D-Dark Mark. They only used to conjure that if... well, if-"

No one seemed to have any words for what they were looking at.

Wordlessly her eyes sought out Neville who was sitting as though he was carved from granite, he'd even turned a peculiar shade of grey. His pale, trembling fingers clutched at the paper until they formed a fist and the Daily Prophet was nothing more than a crumpled mess. His glazed eyes were fixed on a jug of pumpkin juice as his face remained frozen; then suddenly he shoved himself back from the table and ran from the hall. Several people glanced up as he dashed past, but no one stopped him and their terrified eyes quickly returned to the paper, it was taking everyone time just to process what they were seeing.

Alice slipped from her seat and went after him on legs which were suddenly shaky. She found him outside on the front steps, ignoring the swirling snow and a steady stream of tears tripping down his cheeks.

"Neville?" She crept up behind him. "Neville? Don't cry. I'm sure your parents are fine. The explosions were only at the front doors, I don't think they got any further than the reception."

"I know," his voice was scratchy, "but it's still... they might still have... People still died, and I feel so... helpless."

"I know," Alice laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "We all do. That's what they want, to make us feel scared and helpless. We can't let them win though. We have to stick together and be strong. And you can be, you are every bit as brave as your parents."

"Do you think it's going to start again... like before?"

For a moment Alice considered telling him the truth, telling him about the fears Sirius had confided in Harry and her earlier in the year, but the rising sounds of panic coming from the Great Hall and the trembling in Neville's hands as he still clutched the ruined Prophet changed her mind.

"I don't know Neville. Before was different. This time there's only these idiots, even if they are Death Eaters. It's not as though -"

"You-Know-Who," he cut in before she could say the name.

"- has come back," she finished. "We can't afford to spend all our time fearing the worst, because if that happens and we forget to live then he's won whether he comes back or not.

Cold fingers found her own. "Thanks. You always do know the right things to say," The fingers tightened. "I need to go and write to Gran, she'll be upset and I'll need to ask her..." He trailed off with a juddering breath and turned back inside.

Alice stayed for a minute longer gazing out at the snow, the grey, blasted landscape and the threatening sky. It was the sort of setting which reflected her mood. Despite what she had said to Neville she was afraid. It was all starting to happen too fast; separated from most of the turmoil by the walls of Hogwarts she had fooled herself into thinking they might be safe.

What a joke.

"You alright out here, Evans?" Fred Weasley's voice was in her ear. She hadn't even heard him approach.

"Yes." The response left her lips before she had even considered it. "No. I'm not sure. Not really."

"I reckon we're all with you on that one."

They stood there in silence for a moment. "Is Neville alright?"

"He will be, he's shaken up because... he knows people in St Mungo's just now." Her friends still didn't know the truth about Neville's parents and much as she didn't like keeping things from them it wasn't her secret to tell. Neville would do it when he was ready, in his own time.

"Poor bloke." Fred hesitated. "Are you going to write to Sirius?"

"Probably; why?"

"Well, with everything... he's got more experience than most when it comes to dealing with... Death Eaters." A chill which had nothing to do with the frozen flakes landing on her arm crawled across Alice's flesh. She continued to stare.

"Your uncles died, didn't they? Before." It was something she had never really asked about.

"Mum's two brothers; yeah they did. They were ambushed and killed by Death Eaters one night on their way home from some meeting. It took five of them to bring them down. I don't remember them much; we were just babies when it happened. Mum doesn't talk about them often."

Alice nodded in understanding as she considered the fact that of her closest friends Hermione was the only one who hadn't had her family scarred in some way by Voldemort's followers. What would happen if it all started again? She didn't know if she'd be strong enough to face it.

"Come on, Midget," Fred broke through her thoughts, injecting some forced levity into his voice. "It's freezing out here, why don't we go back inside?" He slipped an arm round her shoulders.

"I know, I just..." Alice sighed and leant back against him for a moment. "It's all starting again, isn't it?"

Fred was silent for a moment giving her all the answer she needed. "I don't know, Midget, I really don't. Things might settle down -"

"Or they might not."

"Right," he spun her round and clamped her arms to her sides, "there will be none of that. I am making a new rule. There will be no doom and despondency or I may be forced to take extreme measures to induce cheerfulness. Do I make myself clear?"

Alice nodded obediently and managed to crack a small smile. She was just trying to conjure up a feeble joke in response when she realised how close they were; she could count every freckle on Fred's nose at this distance.

"Ok, come on then," she broke away before he saw her face go red and stumbled back towards the Great Hall. Why did she always feel awkward about everything?

By the time they got back into the Great Hall McGonagall was shouting for quiet and it was a mark of how panicked the whole school was that she wasn't even heard, let alone obeyed. It wasn't until she had to let off several loud bangs accompanied by a shower of sparks from her wand that the mass of students came under control and the uproar subsided. Alice took the opportunity to slip back into her seat.

"That's better," her face was grey and her lips had disappeared into a thin, hard line, "can we have some quiet please? The Headmaster would like to say as few words."

Dumbledore got slowly to his feet with a smile. Alice didn't know how he managed it, to keep his cool all the time. Either he really was unflappable or he was an excellent actor, she hadn't decided. Whichever she was sure that the platitudes would spring readily enough from his lips.

"I suspect," he began, his words falling into the hushed silence, "that we all need to take a moment to calm ourselves. Doubtless you will all be concerned for loved ones, family and friends, but this is no reason for us all to lose our heads." He surveyed them all, the hundreds of fearful faces staring up at him, and smiled kindly. "I wish I could tell you all that this means you get the morning off classes, but since today is Saturday that would seem a tad unnecessary. I suggest everyone returns to their common rooms however until lunch time at the very least."

There was some general muttering at this. Why did Dumbledore feel the need to confine them? Was there something they didn't know? Was Hogwarts safe? Did he feel there was a threat? The whispering was growing in volume again as McGonagall let another cracker off from her wand.

"I believe the Headmaster meant now," she looked at them all severely.

Glancing uneasily at her friends Alice rose from the Gryffindor table and they joined the throng of anxious students forcing their way towards the stairs.

It was probably the quietest any of them had ever seen the Gryffindor common room, especially when it was full to bursting with cooped up students. Everyone was sitting around in clumps either staring into space or whispering worriedly to their friends. What did the attack mean? The World Cup could have been dismissed as an accident, the break in at Gringotts a simple coincidence, but with the dragon escape and the latest vicious assault on St Mungo's people were uneasy. They could spot a pattern. The question was who was responsible? The paper had claimed that rather than Death Eaters conjuring the Mark it had been scaremongers afterwards wishing to grab their five minutes of fame. That the incantation and mark had show minor discrepancies which real Death Eaters would not have conjured. Was it true?

Alice was sitting scribbling a letter to Sirius asking these very questions; Ron attempted to play chess with Neville, but neither of them really had the heart for it and had taken to staring into the fire. Hermione was voraciously soaking up the contents of a book on protective charms, as Harry absentmindedly tore up a piece of parchment as he watched his twin write.

"Harry, you're not going to be able to will me to go any faster with this you know," she told him.

"Sorry."

She smiled affectionately at him and reached over to take the scraps from him, giving his hand a squeeze as she did so. "You're going to turn that into confetti in a minute."

He glanced down at the pieces littering the floor in mild surprise. "Sorry," he repeated. "I was lost in thought."

"Care to share?"

He seemed to consider not telling her for a moment, but then thought better of it. She knew him too well. "What if this is all just the build up to something big," he kept his voice down so the others wouldn't hear. "I don't mean just an escalation, what if all this, everything this year is just the old Death Eaters warming up to something? What if Voldemort comes back?" She couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed her mind and was about to say so when he said something that stopped her in her tracks. "If he did, he'd know about you too now, and I don't think I could... if anything happened..."

Alice felt tears prick at her eyes as she returned his earnest, worried gaze. Harry had lived with the shadow of Voldemort all his life, whether he knew it or not, and yet it was for her that he was concerned, rather than himself. She had never had someone who cared about her so much before, not in the way that family did. And the concept of what might happen should Voldemort return terrified her more than words could say. "I'm not going anywhere," she gripped his hand tightly, her whisper fierce. "Not now after I've just..." she choked over the words. "And if anything... If Voldemort does come back then we'll deal with it when it happens. Together."

Harry's fingers twined with her own ink-stained ones as the corner of his mouth crooked up in a poor attempt of a smile and she saw an incomprehensible depth of love in his green eyes.

Glancing up she saw Hermione watching them discretely over the top of her book, an affectionate smile on her face. Seeing her best-friend had spotted her it widened, but it wasn't quite enough to hide the worry in her expression.

The school remained on edge all weekend, Alice barely saw the foreign students; they seemed to remain closeted anxiously in their respective accommodations and looked fearful and uneasy when they did show up at dinner. Some of the Beauxbatons girls had taken to jumping at the slightest noise and looked as though they would burst into tears at a moment's notice.

All week the Prophet attempted to soothe the fear that must have raged as fiercely across the rest of the Wizarding world as it did at Hogwarts. Claims of exaggerated death rates and pranksters masquerading as Death Eaters were rife. They even quoted one Auror, a John Dawlish, as saying that he believed it had simply been an explosion from a faulty muggle gas-pipe which had caused the tragedy. Rita Skeeter was in her element and conjured lurid depictions of distraught relatives and hysterical witnesses with abundant glee. Alice began ignoring anything the Prophet had to say on the matter.

Monday morning greeted them with a notice posted in the Great Hall that the Hogsmeade visit on the following Saturday had been cancelled.

"But I'm nearly out of Liquorice Wands!" Ron complained upon reading this.

Hermione made an irritable noise. "Honestly Ronald, are you ever going to sort out your priorities? There are more important things in the world than food you know!" She stormed off to Herbology without a backwards glance leaving a dumbfounded looking Ron in her wake.

"What did I say?"

"She's just worried, mate," Harry reassured him. "I wouldn't get too upset about it."

The four of them followed Hermione down to the greenhouses, Alice trying to draw Neville into conversation. He had barely said two words since Saturday morning and he was still awaiting a reply from his Grandmother. She had attempted to reassure him by pointing out that she hadn't received a reply from Sirius either, but it wasn't much use. Herbology was the best subject in which to engage him due to his love and aptitude for the subject and she had just begun to have him tell her the various properties of the Flitterbloom they were re-potting when there was an interruption.

"Excuse me, Professor Sprout?" A seventh year Ravnclaw girl stood at the door to the Greenhouse. "Professor McGonagall asked to see Harry Potter and Alice E-Potter," she stumbled over the surname as Alice felt every eye in the class turn upon them. What had they done now?

Obediently the two of them put down their pruning shears, stripped off their dragonhide gloves and followed the girl back to the castle.

"She asked if you could go to her office," the girl informed them before disappearing down a corridor that lead towards the Ravenclaw tower.

"What do you reckon she wants?" Harry asked his sister as they scurried up to the First Floor. "You don't reckon something has happened do you?"

"No idea." It was the only reason she could think of that they might have been summoned. There had been a distinct lack of any rule breaking for months, so it couldn't be for that the head of house wanted to see them. The reason for their presence was made immediately obvious however the minute McGonagall bade them enter her office.

"Sirius!" Harry's voice was full of surprise and not a little concern at the sight of their godfather standing by the Transfiguration teacher's desk. Thick, grey robes encircled his tall frame and billowed about him as he turned at their arrival. "What's wrong?"

In three strides Sirius was across the room as pulling them both into a close hug. Alice gripped him tightly for a second before he relinquished his grip and stepped back to examine them critically. She noticed he still kept a hand on each of their shoulders though and his face was strained despite the reassuring smile he tried to produce.

"Nothing... nothing, everything is fine." He reassured them, his eyes flicking towards McGonagall for a moment. "I just wanted to see how you were and coming in person seemed the quickest way to answer Alice's letter. And it was definitely safer than having to deal with that bloody bird again."

Alice chuckled despite herself, but there was still something wrong with her godfather. He seemed unusually fidgety, even for someone who had recently spent twelve years in Azkaban.

"I think perhaps I shall leave you to it, Sirius." McGonagall smiled at them all before excusing herself from the office.

"How are you?" Sirius asked the moment the door had closed behind her.

"We're fine... Sirius, what's going on?" Alice looked at him. "It's not that it's not nice to see you, but why are you here?"

"I wanted to check the two of you were alright, and as I said, this was quicker than waiting for your feathered menace to decide to come down from the attic to take a letter."

Amusing as that image was Alice wasn't buying it. "The real reason, Sirius."

He looked at her levelly for a long moment as Harry glanced between their two stubborn faces.

"You're too much like your mother for your own good sometimes, do you know that?"

Alice took that as a compliment.

"We've heard rumours," he told them, "whispers really, that something is in the offing. There has been word that next time it might be Hogwarts they hit."

"To try and get to us?" Harry asked, his concerned gaze flicking to Alice again.

"Possibly. Probably."

"So it definitely was Death Eaters, then?" She asked.

Sirius looked at her. "Almost certainly."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts at the implications of Sirius' statement.

Eventually Harry tried to inject a little levity into the conversation. "You didn't need to come all the way down here to check we were alright though. Dumbledore would have told you if we'd fallen off the Astronomy Tower or something."

Sirius did grin at that. "I know, but I'm like an old mother hen, I worry. Besides," he paused, growing serious, "I promised Lily and James that I would look after you and I've done a poor enough job of that up until now -"

"That's not exactly your fault though," Alice pointed out reasonably.

"Still." Sirius shrugged. "I wanted to see you were alright," he smoothed some flyaway curls behind her ear, "and I didn't want to put things in a letter. Can you forgive an old man for worrying?"

"Of course," Alice gave him another hug feeling the thick material of his robes beneath her cheek. "Any time."

"Why do you think they're doing it?" Harry asked after a while. "I mean obviously to cause chaos and scare people, but are they making way for Voldemort to come back? Or do you reckon it's for some other reason?"

Sirius considered them both for a moment. "I think they were trying their luck at the World Cup, a few old Death Eaters who had too much Fire Whisky and nobody stopped them. It's made them bold in a way they haven't been for years, not since just after... They're seeing how much they can get away with."

Alice shifted uneasily. "But let's not cast any more gloom on your day. You have classes to be getting on with and I have to go and help Remus look at houses. I think he's finally gotten fed up of my company."

"Or your cooking," Alice quipped.

"That too. Now off you go the pair of you," they gave him a last hug and moved towards the door as they heard their godfather's parting shot, "and stay out of trouble!"

"You'd have thought he would realise how pointless it is to tell us that by now," Harry grinned as they made their way along the corridor. He quickly sobered however. "So what do you reckon?"

"He's worried," Alice said immediately, "really worried. And if he doesn't think he can put things in a letter..."

"Then he's worried they might be intercepted," her brother finished for her with a grim nod. "Which would mean the Death Eaters are a lot more organised than everyone is letting on."

Alice shuddered at the thought. This year had started with such potential: the Quiddditch World Cup, the Triwizard Tournament, they'd managed to keep out of trouble, by and large, and now it was all being ruined by a gang of psychopathic maniacs intent on destruction.

"Come on," Harry saw her bleak expression and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go back down to the greenhouses; fresh air always helps."

"Alright, Madam Pomfrey!" Alice chuckled which she knew had been his intention all along. As they walked side by side she recalled her earlier words to Neville and realised she had been right; as long as they stuck together they would get through whatever was thrown at them and as she had told her brother, she had no intention of letting him go anywhere.

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