If Alicia’s fears about her letter writing abilities when it came to Hermione seemed unfounded that night when Harry came to the Leaky Cauldron, they were soon justified and well founded fears as each and every day passed. Each day she would get an owl back from Hermione (cursing her fortune that only Cho knew well enough to wait until she finished her letter before sending it back with Chii), and each day her letters became more and more lengthy and gibbering. She began to feel that she was truly becoming a gossiping little girl everytime she penned a letter to Hermione. Her letters to Cho Chang were not so blathering, and she also felt more at ease speaking her mind and her feelings more openly than with Hermione. Hermione she was too flustered to do much but blither on about the day’s events, but Cho was different. “Maybe I’m pursuing the wrong girl.” Alicia wrote in a letter once to Cho, only to get this reply : “I’ll let you know when I’m available. Keep going after Hermione for now.” Now that was a weird response. But she did as Cho asked, and didn’t push the topic of a relationship again, at least not until she was ready for one. The day’s activities? Not much to go over, really. She’d start with breakfast, and being her happy go lucky self again she had an easier time chatting it up with the witches and wizards than she did before remembrance day. With the weight of that event off her shoulders for another year she was her old good natured self again. Though of course some of it was show to make her time with the “locals” easier to manage, she still showed abit of real humor and good natured-ness while conversing so it wasn’t all an act. The most interesting thing she saw was what Harry thought was a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a tick woolen balaclava. Turned out to be a rather fit 30-ish year old witch with blazing pink hair. “BAD HAIR POTION!” she cried, covering her hair again. It took a few minutes, but Alicia talked her to put her covering down and relish her new hair as a eye catching thing to get a boy (or girl’s) attention. That was yesterday. Today Alicia nearly fell over when that same witch came back in, dressed like a girl half her age and hugging the arm of another “born again” 30-ish witch with purple hair on her head. She then went on to say how she had accidentally bought the wrong “Gilded Lock-hearts” hair potion but then recommended it to her companion after she began to love the results and -- “Yup. Definitely created a monster.” she sighed, wondering just how many “born again” 30 year olds was Gildroy Lockhart going to inspire with his hair potions. The thought sent a cold shiver down Alicia’s spine, mostly because (as a human being with years added from her birth to death, and to now) she was 30-ish in years. ‘Does that make me a bad person to chase girls half my age?’ she thought as she finished breakfast and headed into Diagon Alley. For the past several days she had been wandering the alley, so much so that she now knew the entire length of Diagon Alley from back to front, even the “Darker” aspects of Knockturn Alley, but mostly to indulge in her more “adult” needs. By now, however, she had gotten a bad rep in Knockturn Alley as being abit of a “loose girl of questionable morals”, but then again she also had a lot of dirt on the regulars of the alley so they kept her “activities” to themselves. After all, it wasn’t her fault that they kept their most guilty thoughts floating at the top of their “heads” for an easy pick up from anyone sensitive enough to hear those thoughts. As for her “loose girl” morals? It was only once this week, and not even with one of “those girls”. She once spied a “Black Widow” type witch skulking the alleys. She was quite beautiful, and used those looks to stalk male wizards where she proposition them for activities of a sexual nature, then tapped them for whatever Galleons were on them and whatever good magical items she could steal. Alicia was in the mood, she was right there, so she simply changed her form into a male (which was easy since Ravens could take either gender form without much hassle) and took her offer. The “loose girl” thing? Came from those who saw the results. When the “Black Widow” came out again from a nearby small inn she was dazed, shaky in the legs, and looked as if she was just run over by the Hogwarts Express. When an unsuspecting male (who was about to ask her for her services) tried to speak to her, she simply jumped into his arms screaming “I’M SORRY!! I’LL NEVER TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MEN AGAIN!!!” (the fact that Alicia came out seconds later grinning like a cat and looking guilty as hell just dug her own grave in that particular incident). She’ll be the first one to tell you this : she’s no angel. She doesn’t believe in false moralities, nor does she practice platitudes or false moral uprightness. She simply states that she, as a woman, has her needs. If she wants to fulfill them? Those are her priorities, and not to be judged by others. She does as she wishes, and acts as she pleases, devil be damned and to hell with whoever disagrees with her. When she wasn’t spending the nights blathering to Hermione in letters, or (a few times) having a little fun with the locals, she worked on her scrolls and homework. Luckily for her she took Harry’s advice and started sitting outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor finishing her essays, which was easy on one part because Florean Fortescue himself helped them with their medieval witch burning essays (cutting out a lot of the questionable stuff from Alicia’s while keeping the spirit of it intact). He even once introduced her to a descendent of Wedelin the Weird for part of her essay. The next day Harry asked how her paper was coming, “The fire thing must be a family addiction.” she mused, toying with her food. “She made me “burn” her four times before she gave me what I wanted.” “So she helped you with your essay?” “Huh?” (blushes) “Yeah. The essay. Uh-huh. Right.” She still wasn’t finished, mostly since that wasn‘t the thing she “wanted“ from Wendy (Wedelin‘s descendant) in the first place. The first thing Alicia wished everytime she went back to Gringotts to refill her pouch was “I wish they gave out “credit cards” here.”, feeling her tesseract pouches as she filled them with coins. One pouch for Gold Galleons, one for Silver Sickles, one for Bronze Knuts, and one for miscellaneous treasures she “pocketed” from “people”. Her money? Since she continued to “launder” the ill gains of the wicked she “exorcised” from the living? She had more than enough to last her two lifetimes, yet she still practiced a great deal of restraint nevertheless. “Set of solid gold Gobstones!” the merchant bragged, showing her the set. She poked at it huffing her breath at the useless things, that is until one of the stones squirted her with a nasty smelling liquid. The merchant gave her the counter-liquid to wash it off, after a gentle “reminder” from her on good customer relations when he tried to sell her the counter-liquid. “Perfect moving model of the galaxy! Set in this indestructible glass sphere, it guarantees that you’ll never have to take another Astronomy lesson ever again!” What Alicia told the merchant she wanted to see in one of those spheres nearly gave the man a heart attack. She decided not to ask again unless in the “proper” store. What tested her resolve, however, came when she passed Harry at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and noticed the large crowd. She stood behind Harry, slowly moving along to get a better look at what they were all looking at. “What?” she whispered, trying to get a better view, “Somebody released a Nimbus 2002? What?!” “Just come out -- prototype --” somebody said, “It’s the fastest broom in the world, isn’t it, Dad?” “Irish International Side’s just put in an order for seven of these beauties! And they‘re favorites for the World Cup!” Alicia was becoming annoyed that she heard the hype, but had yet to see the merchandise. Finally someone got out of the way and they both saw the item in question. THE FIREBOLT This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined--- Blah, blah, blah blah. Alicia quickly sped down the list to the price. She could always figure out the optional extras when she bought one. Price on Request. Alicia’s teeth ground together as she began to tense up, her palms sweaty. Now she knew how guys felt when near an ego-rubbing vehicle or, dare she think it, broom. She looked at the flawless beauty and thought only one thing, ‘Gotta get Hermione on it.’ Briefly she let her thoughts wander away, and she imagined Hermione, naked and beautiful in the moonlight, sitting with legs crossed and eyes glittering on the broom as it floated in midair, a come hither look in her eyes as she reached her hand out to gesture for-- “ACK!” Alicia hissed, quickly spinning away and walking out of the store as fast as possible. ‘No way!’ she thought angrily, ‘She’d never do that! Stupid wet dream idea!’ Still, the thought of seducing her on such a fine broom kind of appealed to her, but she quickly shook it off. Anyway, as she figured, she already had a nice broom in her Nimbus 2001 she got the first year she was eligible to buy her own broom. And since Hermione hadn’t offered to ride barebroom yet for her she figured it was never going to happen. Still, the thought -- She struggled with that for awhile, mostly gritting her teeth and trying to put it out of her mind. She even asked Cho about it and she replied with a “She’s too much of a lady for such things.” but then went on to say “I’d like to see what that feels like though, one day.” Cho Chang. A puzzle wrapped in an enigma riddled with contradicting thoughts. Getting to know her better only made her that much harder to understand. Still, she was honest at least. As for the idea? The mirror didn’t seem at all interested in helping Alicia figure out if she really did look sexy sitting on her Nimbus 2001 in the buff. It just yawned and fell back asleep. “Maybe I should ask a living person next time.” she lamented, crawling back into bed to sleep. Of course there was things that Alicia simply had to buy for school. She went over to the Apothecary to fill out the list of potion ingredients that Snape sent her. She was, it seems, the only student at Hogwarts who wasn’t a Slytherin AND capable of having a decent conversation with Snape without being forced to speak to him. They both, after all, held secrets. She learned his the first night she returned in the second year and he bitched her, Harry and Ron out for being late and the flying car thing. He lost his temper so badly that a few random thoughts floated to the top, thoughts he normally kept hidden. It didn’t take long for her to figure out, while researching about the school’s past, what the images meant. She thought he might have been a disciple of the Darke Raven, but instead Snape, it seems, was once a Death Eater (one of good ole’ Voldemort’s followers). She didn’t care abit, she was only looking for followers of the Darke Raven who might have been searching the school for the rumored Darke Raven “Heart” lying within it’s walls. Still, she didn’t miss a beat in holding it over his head like a hammer and threatening him with it. When she felt, however, she pushed him far enough? She gave him her dirty bag of secrets in return and made him a deal : they each keep the other’s secrets over their heads, and in return they become ambicle “partners” while she was at the school, keeping young “Mr. Potter” alive while staying out of each other’s way. Given no choice in the matter he agreed, and they’ve been “partners” since. It was with the list, however, that he also wrote “Someone told the Headmaster about your recent run in with those youths and how they were murdered. He doesn’t suspect you were involved, but I think he plans on speaking to you when you return to school, be mindful of that in case he summons you. Still, I think it best you tell me what role you played in their demises.” Alicia wrote back “I didn’t kill them, however that’s not to say that I was saddened by their demise. They were animals, and I’m glad they’re dead. You won’t see me mourn their passing.” Snape hadn’t written back yet. Obviously he was taken aback by her words, or just silently agreeing with her feelings. Either way? He didn’t answer and she figured the topic closed. She had to buy robes, mostly as a show since she usually used her Raven “Uniform” as her “robes” (form changed into the spitting image of Hogwarts robes), but occasionally she used them -- mostly for after baths as bathrobes. And, of course, she had to buy books. After her birthday she wrote to Hermione and Ron offering to buy their books this year. Mostly to get the chance to “buy” Hermione something, and using Ron as a “cover” so she couldn’t point to Ron and ask why she was only lavishing her with books. “Ron needs books too.” she might have complained, or something like that. Ron’s list was the same as her’s, so that was no shock. The shock came when she saw Hermione’s list. There was more books than the hours of the day could provide Hermione with a chance to go to all the classes these books entailed. “What the--” she rasped, looking at the list. “What kind of nutter signs up for so many classes?!?” “---maybe she has a lot of time on her hands---” Wendy moaned from her spot on the bed, this being the night she stood over for “homework”. She promised a “refresher” lesson after she caught her breath, so Alicia was looking over the book lists while she waited. The idea of all these books and the classes they went to -- still, she promised she’d get the books so a promise was a promise. When she got to Flourish and Blotts she thought for an instant the books have gone mad and started killing each other. In a huge iron cage she saw books trying to murder each other. “Oh, no.” she sighed wearily, “Not the murdering Monster books again.” (sure enough, each list had a request for one copy apiece) “Hagrid must have an evil streak in him to assign these books.” she lamented as she walked in. As she did, the manager came hurrying to her. “Hogwarts?” he said abruptly. “Come to get you--” “Hang on a sec.” she grumbled, shoving her lists into his hands. With a tired groan she walked over to the iron cage and stood in front of it, whipping her head back and forth to work the kinks out as she loosened up. “---miss? What are you---” With one hand she motioned for the cage to open, with the other she waited as the books rushed out all at once. “MISS!! WHAT ARE--” “Shut up.” she growled, quickly using her free hand to “catch” all the books as they rushed her, freezing them in place and bringing them upwards into the air. As she focused on them she thought for a second “Need a good medium, something to---” (looks down) “---the things I do for love---” she groaned. Carefully, she then (with one hand levitating the books) ran two of her fingers up and down between her breasts (generating a sense similar to how she stroked book’s spine if she was working on the book), feeding that same “soft touch” into their “minds” (as it were). She then focused harder, tongue licking the air as she stimulated the books “minds” the same way she did her own book’s spine with her tongue. She then (still stimulating herself while focusing those feelings onto the books) triggered a looping spell that kept that same pleasure rippling through each book. Finally she set them all down on the display and stopped focusing. That did it. The books were now completely docile, and would stay that way. All she had to do was mend the books and that’s when she realized she was doing it without her wand! Feeling like a total idiot for missing such a simple “trick” she quickly yanked it out and did that spell with her wand, hoping he was too dazed to notice what she was doing before. After the books mended themselves, and he seemed too dazed to ask about earlier, she told the manager that the books were now docile and moved to catch her breath. Of course she TRIED to catch her breath, which she didn’t have long to do as the store manager nearly mauled her crying out, “GOD BLESS YOU!! GOD BLESS YOU!!” (She nearly died from suffocation). When he finally stopped smothering her he helped her get the books she needed for herself, Ron and Hermione. Two copies of the Monster Book of Monsters being part of her list of course. “I’m never stocking those things again!” the manager cried, helping Alicia find a book on Arithimancy, “It’s been bedlam (before you showed up of course)! I thought we’d seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility -- cost a fortune, and we never found them---” “You got ripped off.” “Huh?” “Ripped off.” she noted as she picked up a book on, of all things, “Muggle Studies” which she put into her lot. “Those kind of books would be sorta like Predators.” “Say what?” the manager asked, looking confused. “Predators. Like the movie? With Schwarzenegger, then Danny Glover in the sequel?” (waits for a reply) “Don’t you ever get out and see a movie? Rent or buy a DVD? Anything?” “OH!” (looks embarrassed) “But what about it? You mean the books are dangerous?” “I mean you should have received a batch of books which looked like clear whispy glass, when you open it the pages become solid. That’s how you can tell an invisible object from an empty box which is what you probably bought.” The manager excused himself and made a call, probably to a lawyer, coming back seconds later to help her with her books, thanking her again of course (this time no hug). “Is there anything else I can help you with?” “Yeah.” (she looks down her list, having taken care of Hermione’s specialty books) “I need three copies of Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky.” “Ah, starting Divination, are you?” “Guess so.” Alicia muttered as she followed him, sighing resentfully as she did. In truth? She really needed a class like Divination like she needed a hole in her head. She was already a Raven so she had a talent with future sight, but apparently the class was given automatically at Year 3 so she had no choice but to take it, even if it was probably going to bore the heck out of her. He took her to the back of the shop where a small table of books set for fortune telling were set. “Here you go.” said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down three thick, black-bound books. “Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods -- palm-reading, crystal balls, bird entrails--” “I’ll give it a shot after dinner tonight. I have a hankering for roasted chicken--” (sighs) “--then again maybe I’ll just stick with the Hamburger Helper that the cook makes, and tries to pass off as an old Transylvanian pasta dish. Eck.” (picks up book lying to one side) “What a grim cover. The writer of this book had a lousy future indeed.” The book was uninteresting except for the title. Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming. (‘Should have had a copy before I died.’ Alicia thought gloomily, ‘Then again--’) “Oh, I wouldn’t read that if I were you,” the manager warned her, looking at the book in her hand. “You’ll start seeing death omens everywhere. It’s enough to frighten anyone to death.” “Been there, done that.” she whispered, tossing the book aside. “Then I’ll just need three copies of Intermediate Transfiguration, three copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three, any book that’d make a good birthday gift for a girl who is really good at magic (Year 3) and--” (grabs a book off the shelf, rifles through the pages, and tossing the book into her pile. “This.” The manager looks down at it, “But that’s a book a lot of male customers have been demanding! It’s nothing but naughty stories and moving photos of women having---” (blushes) “---oh.” “Oh.” she repeated, glaring at him as her fingers brushed the title, which simply read “The Beauty of Our Love - Hogsmeades‘ Witches on Witches“. He immediately backed off to find her books, adding “Lots of women read it too! You know, because we get a lot of them here. And they love that book. Highly recommended. The stories of passion are very detailed and beautiful while the pictures are very erotic without being perverted or degrading to the women and---” “Quit while your WAY behind already.” she finally told him, shaking her head. As he rung her up (adding “The Big Book of Little Known Useful Spells Vol. 1”) she asked the obvious, “Do any lesbians really shop here?” “Why not? Though I wouldn‘t know which witch is which, it‘s not like they confide those things to me, they just come here to buy books.” he remarks, “I sold quite a few copies of that book to women since it’s written by women so it’s nothing--- oh!” (frowns) “Your thinking of those blokes. The ignorant ones who--- yeah.” (nods his head) “I saw their ‘work’ and heard their ‘ideas’. Bunch of ignorant thought if you ask me. People should be allowed to live and love as they please, not having a bunch of slack jawed whiney wand wavers like that with no class pester them for it. Bunch of jerks if you ask me.” “Agreed.” She paid him, and pecked him softly on the cheek for being a nice man, then left the shop with her purchases. Still, the thought of those “blokes” rubbed into her as she walked. Still, it lingered as she went back to her room and collapsed into her bed. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, about ignorance or how racist it was everytime they referred to Muggles, or to -- “I don’t care anymore.” she growled, rolling over onto her stomach to bury her face in her pillow, “I hate my life.” “What, dear? I didn’t understand that, you have to speak up.” the mirror said with a slight bit of concern, “Your not going to off yourself, are you? I remember when the mirror two rooms down nearly had a bloke who did that by accident, wouldn’t stop panicking everytime somebody looked dead to it and --” ‘Is silence worth seven years back luck---’ Alicia thought as she regarded the mirror briefly. ------ The days passed, and the wait for Hermione was becoming unbearable. She finally sent, after a few days, her “last” owl saying that she was on her way. Still it seemed to be too long. As the days drew closer to the trip back to Hogwarts she began to see students from the school arriving at Diagon Alley for their school supplies. The last day before departing was the worst and the best though, in her opinion. The worst of it was being cornered by Oliver Wood at the ice cream shoppe and nearly talked to death about Quidditch moves. Of course he couldn’t stop going on and on about how she should be more like Potter. More like Potter this, more like Potter that, made her want to kick Wood in the Little Wood just to shut him up. The worst, however, came when Florence came out and remarked on her cute boyfriend (which nearly sent her into ballistic mode), but at least Wood got the point and left her alone (for now at least). She met other members of her “house”, but only a handful she knew to any degree. In terms of friends she only had a tight woven circle of friends, followed by a medium circle of good acquaintances, and then a wide circle of people who feared her, or just kept their distance because they didn’t like her too much. She wasn’t the darling of the school, nor it’s social outcast. She was simply one of them, with her own friends and enemies, and basically normal in every sense -- except this year. People she never talked to seemed to take note of her, if not to speak to her than just to look at her and speak about her behind her back. For some reason everyone seemed to note her more, and it seemed to go back to what she learned earlier that she was going to be abit more noticed in school than before. But how--? ‘With my luck somebody’s passing around an illegal sphere of me and some loose morals witch making out.’ she thought to herself, taking a rather low view of her limited “fame” without even knowing with people were more intent on looking at her than they were last year. There was, of course, a few bright spots, one of which being her running into the cute couple of Longbottom/Myrial (May to everyone she knew). She ran into Neville (the real Neville) and May outside of Flourish & Blotts, May (a girl Neville’s height with small pointy elfin ears and beautiful blonde hair (from her Amazonian side) flowing down her back) gently scolding Neville for losing his booklist. As he went in to get their books May took Alicia aside. “I told him, and I showed him my true elfin form!” she grinned, flashing a V for Victory sign, “And he STILL LOVES ME!! My precious loves me!” Alicia, confused, thought about what she said for a second before -- “OH! You mean you -- you act like a Amazonian the way you prattle on! Not like your mutli sexed or any--” “Don’t be mean!” she pouted, looking down at her feet as she did, “It was sweet of him to still accept me as a lover despite the shock it must have been for him.” “It would have been a worst shock if you pulled your skirt up and showing him a thing only Amazonians and certain humanoids have! No doubt in my mind, probably would have shocked a few years off his life expectancy.” Alicia murmured, only to receive a glaring glance from May. May, after all, was extremely sensitive about her elfin body. She, when in “true“ form, was a tall statuesque young woman with ample everything (which Alicia liked to tease her about even if it made May majorly pissy). “You‘re supposed to be my “parole“ officer, not here to find the perfect mate! Anyway, you give him the “grand tour“ of your assets yet? At least help him lose his virginity sometime soon!” May’s face drops and turns serious, “My Neville’s a gentleman!” she growled, waving an accusing finger at Alicia, “When we’re ready we’ll explore our sexualities when it’s time and NOT before. Just because your so loose with your legs and your--” “Alright, alright, give me a break.” Alicia sighed, shaking her off as she turned her back over to Neville (who was waving for her from inside the bookstore). “Thank god for sweet “little” girls like May --” (thinks about it for a second) “-- good thing she still goes around in her “second“ form though, I don‘t think anyone‘s ready to see Neville with a tall blonde elfin goddess as a girlfriend just yet. It‘d probably kill Malfoy at first sight.” There was, of course, other people she met. She ran into her fellow Quidditch teammates (who were doing their best to avoid Wood since he was on the warpath today), and most of them were found ogling the Firebolt. Even her more sensible female teammates were ogling it, which was a real surprise to Alicia since she never thought them as “broom fanatics”. All and all though? She kept any questions as to why they were ogling it to herself. She, of course, eventually found the people she was really looking for. It was outside of the ice cream shoppe she’d been spending her days with Potter studying that she finally saw the person she was waiting for. Hermione Granger. She was presently talking to Harry and Ron (who hadn’t noticed her yet), but she soon heard her opening when Harry asked if they got all their supplies yet. “I already got the books, as I promised.” she chipped in, sliding into a chair between Hermione/Ron as she nodded to each one. “I’ll give them to you once we get back to the Leaky Cauldron. Though---” (her face turns serious) “---I have to say that your list baffled me the most. I mean the amount of books implies a lot of classes! Can you---” “Well, I AM taking more new subjects than you, aren’t I?” she remarked. “Don’t be all flippant with me on it.” Alicia countered, feeling her cheeks grow rosey red from Hermione’s stern expression aimed right at her, “You got all the stuff we have, PLUS Arithmancy (whatever that is), Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -- and that I can’t figure out because you need Muggle Studies like I need a refresher course in Lesbian 10---” (Alicia quickly shut her mouth and went an even brighter red that went from face to toes. Hermione, however, either didn’t notice or chose to “ignore” it as she picked up the conversation where Alicia “dropped” it. “It’ll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view,” she said earnestly. “Oh, sure. That.” Alicia sputtered, trying to regain her composure, “If you like the view from a purely ignorant racist POV then you’re in for a real treat with this class. Yes, sir.” (sighs irritably as Ron picks up the slack) “Are you planning on surviving on air and sunlight alone because there’s no time to do anything else, let alone feed yourself or get any sleep, with that schedule.” Hermione, ignoring him, checked her purse. “Thanks to Alicia’s generous help I have quite abit of Galleons left.” she announced, checking her purse’s contents. “It’s my birthday in September, and Mum and---?” At this moment Alicia popped the book, wrapped in beautiful gold wrapping and tied with a bow, out of a tesseract gem on her uniform and quickly shoved it forward towards Hermione squeaking “Happy Birthday!” with her face blushing madly, and her eyes shut. She felt a cold chill down her spine, and gritted her teeth at her rash action. She didn’t even have a chance to prepare, or to do it properly. She just wanted to give it the moment she heard it was her birthday coming up. Rash, impulsive, without thinking a thing out. That’s her alright. Still, Hermione accepted it graciously and looked genuinely happy with the gift. She hugged it to her chest and said she’d treasure it. With a little bit of the weight lifted from her shoulders she asked Hermione what she was going to get herself with her Galleons. “How about a nice book?” said Ron innocently. “No, I don’t think so, and Alicia already got me a nice book so -- I really want an owl.” (Alicia almost groaned out loud at the decision, an OWL, sheesh) “I mean, Harry’s got Hedwig and you’ve got Errol --” “No I haven’t,” said Ron as a matter of fact. “Errol’s a family owl. All I’ve got is Scabbers.” (suddenly he pulls his pet rat out of his pocket, “Speaking of which I want to get him checked out.” he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. “I don’t think Egypt agreed with him.” “Don’t blame him.” Alicia whispered, looking carefully at the rat, it’s body thinner than usual with a telltale droop in his whiskers showing how rather “off” it was in it’s health. “Did you try out the Magical Menagerie yet?” Alicia offered, motioning towards the side of the street opposite of the ice cream palour, “Figure they could help you out while Hermione gets her owl.” (she took care not to drool out the word “owl” or make it sound like she was pissed.) Noticing Alicia’s foul mood, Hermione smiled, “I’ll get one that’ll remind me of you everytime I see it, as a thank you for the lovely present.” This brought Alicia’s frown up to a smile, and brightened her mood. Even an owl started to sound pretty good as long as it was beautiful and noble, because it would always remind Hermione of herself, and gave her hope that Hermione was getting the hints that she was interested in her. ------ The first thing Alicia noticed when she stepped into the Magical Menagerie behind the trio was that it was quite cramp inside. In truth there was not much room inside the shop, every inch of the walls being hidden behind some form of cage. It was smelly, the noise was unbearable, and it took a lot of effort on Alicia’s part to remain focused as she walked into this virtual assault on the senses. The first face to peer at her from behind the counter didn’t help her any either, it was the purple haired witch she “helped” some days ago. She was already advising a wizard on a sickly (by appearance more than by it’s health) looking double-ended newts (with an additional head where it’s butt should have been --- whichever end that could have possibly been). As she helped him with that, the four waited behind the wizard, examining cages. The entire store did nothing for Alicia whatsoever. In fact, the store was beginning to get on her nerves in a general and overall sense. The pair of enormous purple toads that gulped down the dead blowflies made Alicia nauseous. The gigantic tortoise with it’s jewel-encrusted shell that sat by the window, glittering in the sunlight that streamed into Diagon Alley? That was just too weird for Alicia’s tastes, too shiny too. The poisonous orange snails that were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank only served to creep Alicia out majorly. As for the fat white rabbit that kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise? Alicia was tempted to purchase it just so she’d have the unique pleasure of strangling it to death with her bare hands. There were, of course, cats of many different colors and breeds. They mostly made Alicia thankful that she didn’t have an allergic reaction to cats. There were her favorite animal, of course, the ravens. But these ravens were far too noisy and nowhere as dignified or perfect as her Chii was. These ravens? They were just bad mannered. There was a basketful of odd looking custard-colored furballs that were humming a strange song. And, if Alicia didn’t know any better, she would have sworn that she was staring at a basketful of Tribbles. She didn’t like Tribbles. No sir, she didn’t like them in the least. So these things of course turned her off in a major sense from just reminding her of Tribbles. On the counter a vast cage of sleek black rats sat, and they were playing a rather odd skipping game with one of the rat’s tails as the “rope”. By the time Alicia finally noticed what was going on, Ron and Harry was already up front and the witch was taking care of Scabbers. She listened to hear Hermione making her selection, wondering what kind of beautiful owl she’d pick. So lost in her thoughts she barely noticed the gigantic orange thing fly from the top of the highest cage, land hard on it’s head (ouch), and then leap like a guided missile right at Scabbers. “NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!” the witch cried out, but almost immediately the entire place became a madhouse. Scabbers ran off, Ron and Harry scurried to find it, the witch clung onto the strange cat like mad trying to hold it down -- and Alicia? She followed Ron/Harry out, having decided at the start of the chaos to quickly step back out of harm’s way and watch the events unfold without actually becoming an active participant in the madness. It took ten minutes for Ron to find Scabbers. For some reason, no matter how hard she tried, Alicia couldn’t get a lock on Scabber’s mind. It was as if he was a blank “void” in the middle of this large ocean of open minds. Still Ron found him, and that’s what mattered. Ron had found him beneath a wastepaper bin outside of Quality Quiddich Supplies. This fact confused Alicia. She had passed that wastepaper bin FIVE times, each time scanning it as she passed, yet she felt nothing of Scabbers. ‘Maybe he hid under there just as Ron found him.’ she thought, brushing off her strange inability to “connect” with Scabbers as nothing to become overtly concerned about. As for Ron? He merely stuffed the trembling terror filled rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head as he did. “What was that?” “Cat, Ron. It was a cat -- or a furry version of a guided missile,” Alicia remarked, thinking back on the bizarre creature, and how it could respond so quickly after taking a header into the counter and smacking itself upside it’s own head. “Take your pick. I’m personally swaying towards “guided missile” myself, but that’s just me.” “Where’s Hermione?” Ron asked, to which Harry replied “Probably getting her owl--” before his voice fell away into a dead sort of silence. It seemed that, at that moment, he saw Hermione and saw her “animal”, and that is what fell him so quickly into a stunned silence. It was Hermione alright, but she wasn’t holding an owl as she exited the Magical Menagerie. Far from it. Her arms was, instead, clamped tightly around the self-same enormous ginger cat that tried to turn Scabbers into a mid-day snack. Alicia’s heart sank at the sight of the monstrous thing that passed for a cat, and felt rather dejected by Hermione’s choice. “You bought that monster?” Ron sputtered, his mouth sputtering as he stared at it in confusion. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she went on, blathering about the thing as if it was the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world. But to Alicia? It only added insult to injury that the thing was not only a monstrously disgusting creature, that it also had to be a “he” as well. That just seemed to push all her buttons, yet she still managed to keep a slightly disturbing “smile” on her face. The cat’s ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but the creature the fur was attached to was rather bowlegged and it’s face looked grumpy and oddly squashed (most likely from it’s habit of “table diving” which often resulted in it landing face first into the countertop). Anyway as long as Scabbers remained hidden the cat seemed quite content to purr contentedly in Hermione’s arms. Still, the implications of Hermione’s “promise”, and the thing she brought out with her, only dug deeply into Alicia’s tender feelings like a red hot knife through exposed flesh. In fact she was so put out by this that she ignored their talking all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, pouting miserably (though keeping her “smile” on her face). They found Mr. Weasley inside, sitting in the bar reading the Daily Prophet. “Harry! Alicia!” he said, smiling as he looked up. “How are you two?” “Fine, thanks,” said Harry, to which Alicia merely nodded her head and said a quick greeting, as they all joined Mr. Weasley at the table with all their shoppings in hand. As they all sat down Mr. Weasley put down his paper, which Alicia looked at briefly noting the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at them. “They still haven’t caught him, then?” Harry asked. “No,” Mr. Weasley confirmed, looking rather grave as he spoke, “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far.” “Would we get a reward if we caught him?” asked Ron, which nearly shocked the hell out of Alicia as he did, “It’d be good to get some---” She hit him upside his head and snarled, “ARE YOU MAD?” she hissed, viciously tapping two fingers down on the picture of Sirius as she spoke in her harsh tone, “This guy is a certified whack-job and killer! The only thing you’ll catch is your death if you messed with him.” “She’s right,” Mr. Weasley added, his face looking rather strained at Alicia’s outburst. “Black’s not going to be caught by a 13-year-old wizard. Mark my words, it’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get him back.” The mention of Azkaban brought briefly back memories of the place to Alicia. She had seen it only once, but it was enough for her. The place was dismal. Not horrific like a bad cult horror movie, but disturbing in a clean, antiseptic nightmare hospital way. The walls, floors, everything was bathed in a sickly green light, and everything was far too clean. It was so clean that Alicia almost felt that she could eat off the floor and not worry about becoming ill or anything. Each “cell” was sealed off with a glass “door” which allowed unrestricted visuals into the cell, which held one person each who looked like they had the life sucked out of them and the prison was only being used to hold their lifeless husks. Each one was a disturbing vistage of madness, laid out on their bed staring listlessly into space. One cell, however, caught Alicia’s attention the most. It was housing two, not one. The two, who were husband and wife, laid in their bed naked and seemed to be quite sexually active most of the time. It seemed the only thing they did all day was eat, sleep and have sex. Their eyes were as disturbing as everyone else’s, and their “enthusiasm” for sex was scary by the human guards term of the word “scary” because nobody bothered to watch. They all kept their distance. Even the “Dementors” kept their distance, preferring the quieter prisoners to these two who did everything with great and frightening energy. That’s why she did what she did, when she--- Her memories stopped as Mrs. Weasley entered, laden with shopping bags followed by the “Terrible Twins” of Fred & George. Now it was no great secret that Alicia didn’t like Fred & George very much, but they seemed to have a strange fascination towards her. A fascination that seemingly bordered on the illegal, the way they seemed to fixated on her at times. The only thing Alicia knew of their fascination with her was that she didn’t want any part of it, period. And that’s all she ever wanted to know about their “liking” for her. Right behind those three was Percy, then Ginny (the youngest and only girl of the family). Ginny, who had a major crush on Harry, seemed even more embarrassed than usual when she saw him, having no doubt remembered how he was her “Knight in Shining Armor” when he saved her from the temporarily “resurrected” “dupe” of “Lord Voldemort”. She went quite red (even redder than Alicia was earlier when she slipped up outside of the ice cream palour) and muttered a quick “hello” without looking at Harry. Young “love”. Alicia couldn’t help but smile inwardly though she still felt rather moody on the outside. A condition which only worsened when Percy stepped forward. Percy, for his part of the situation, was rather disturbing towards Harry (and in a sense to Alicia as well) as a counterbalance to Ginny’s full body blush girl-ish embarrassment as he held out his hand solemnly to Harry as if it was the first time they met. “Harry. How nice to see you.” “Hello, Percy.” said Harry, trying not to laugh as they shook hands. Next, he turned to Alicia and repeated the process, “Alicia. Pleasure to meet---” “Cut the crap, Perce.” Alicia muttered, battering his hand aside as her mood soured even worst than it was a minute ago. “Really not in the mood.” Of course George & Fred simply had to get into the act, bumping Percy aside as they “assaulted” Harry. “Harry!” Fred started, bowing deeply, “Simply splendid to see you, old boy---” “Marvelous,” George added, bumping Fred aside in turn and seizing Harry’s hand quickly. “Absolutely spiffing.” Percy scowled, and so did Alicia. “That’s enough, now.” said Mrs. Weasley firmly, only to have herself set upon by the two. “Mum!” said Fred as though he’d only just spotted her, seizing her hand as he did. “How really corking to see you---” “CUT IT OUT!!” Alicia finally yelled, her eyes starting into their “burn” cycle, the whites of the eyes slowly glowing. “I said that’s ENOUGH,” Mrs. Weasley firmly repeated as she put her shopping bags down into an empty chair, reaching a hand out to Alicia, touching her shoulder softly. “You alright?” It took a few seconds, but she simmered down, calming herself to the point she could talk without growling every word. “I’m fine.” she sighed, smiling abit as she beheld Mrs. Weasley in her eyes. It never failed. Just being near Mrs. Weasley always made Alicia feel abit better about the world, and her mood lightened abit in her presence. She turned towards Harry, smiling, and greeted him. The buzz was all about Percy’s new rank as Head Boy, but Alicia wasn’t listening. Her mind was wandering aimlessly. She felt something in the back of her head and smiled. Cho Chang was nearby now. She could “feel” her presence faintly in the back of her mind. She told Alicia once that she always came here a day early and stood with relatives in London before taking the train, so that she was always on the Hogwarts Express before everyone else. She had been anticipating this “feeling” ever since she started “looking out” for Cho a few days ago. It took the sound of Ginny’s giggling to bring her back to the real world. “You want to set a better example for your sister!” snapped Mrs. Weasley, to which Percy replied “Ginny’s got other brothers to set her an example, Mother, I’m going to change for dinner---” Good examples, at this remark Alicia began to laugh. Low at first, then it started to grow. Percy, staring at Alicia oddly as if she just snapped, simply turned and went upstairs. George heaved a sigh. “We tried to shut him in a pyramid,” he told Harry, “But Mum spotted us.”.
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