The Sorting Ceremony finished and the students, well-fed, had all gone to their dormitories. The newcomers discovered, with wide, fascinated eyes, the school's first specialties, such as its unpredictable staircases and the animated portraits. For the older students, it was merely a return to their second home, as Harry Potter and his friends made their way to the common room to chat with their excited classmates about their summer holidays.
The energetic conversations by the fireplace echoed through the school, warming the hallways that had sorely lacked life after being empty for so long.
Further away, leaning on the railing of a balcony, Alice was lost in the chaos of her mind. Many topics were gnawing at her thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate on just one problem. Some would say she should take her time and address each issue as she felt better, but she seemed to think otherwise. Everything felt urgent, and these simple "vacations," which had primarily served as her physical rehabilitation, hadn’t helped her put her life back in order. She even wondered if she still had a place in it.
With her gaze lost over the landscape, she leaned more heavily on the railing. Until she had to accept that she was clearly exhausted and needed to sit down before collapsing to the ground. She set her sights on a nearby stone bench and sighed loudly, a breath filled more with annoyance than anything else.
"Is everything alright, Miss Mc.Garden?" a voice in the alcove asked.
"Headmaster..." Alice greeted, somewhat embarrassed.
"Good evening, Alice..." Minerva replied, her expression compassionate.
"Minerva... I'm sure I'll be fine... I imagine..." She smiled at them.
One didn't need to be an Occlumens or a mentalist to realize that her smile was insincere. But Dumbledore and Minerva accepted it; age had taught them that certain smiles exist solely for the sake of peace.
"I would like to discuss a certain matter with you, Miss, if you permit me..." Dumbledore began.
"I'm listening... I'm not sure I'll have the right answers to all your questions, though... I think I'm a bit behind on current events... Haha..." She chuckled softly.
Minerva wore a concerned expression at the young woman's self-deprecating humor, reminding her of another acquaintance, though whether it was truly humorous was debatable. Dumbledore remained impassive and stepped a little closer.
"This is a delicate subject, and I must admit I didn't expect to have to bring it up... It concerns Harry Potter..."
"Harry Potter? A delicate subject? That's an understatement... That child is a story all on his own..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat; he did not seem amused by the young woman's diversion.
"You know very well where I'm going with this, Alice..."
"Hmm..."
"We've tried to propose dates... Meetings... But you've consistently refused them... This can't go on forever..."
"We don’t wish to force your hand, Alice... But..." Minerva McGonagall started.
"But you're doing just that," she replied sharply. "I don’t feel that my opinion has truly been considered from the start. I've already told you what I had to say on the subject."
"We're simply trying to help you..."
"By forcing a relationship that's heading straight for a wall?" she retorted.
"I find you unfair, Alice... Harry needs you, and you can't deprive him of that..." Dumbledore said before being coldly interrupted.
"Me unfair?" She stood up, trembling; clearly, the sudden movement was a bad idea, but she tried to remain stoic.
Dumbledore observed her for a moment.
"No... You're right, Alice. Excuse us..."
The old man understood that nothing good would come from this conversation. And even though he believed it was urgent for the two to speak, he recognized that, given the witch's situation, rushing it would not benefit her condition at all.
"Take care of yourself, Alice..." Dumbledore withdrew in silence, followed by the head of Gryffindor, who cast a last worried glance at Alice, who did not grant them a farewell, already far away in her thoughts.
Alice resumed her place on the bench, gripping the fabric of her skirt tightly. Since waking up, she had the heavy feeling of being on the verge of exploding at any moment. And time only exacerbated this feeling, quite the opposite.
She drew her legs up close to her head and remained like that for a moment, but the chill of the night bit at her fingers. It was time for her to return to her quarters.
She walked a bit, letting her mind wander. Dumbledore and Minerva were not wrong, and she could have surely explained to them in more detail the reasons for her refusal, but she just couldn't... It was so complicated for her to organize her thoughts, between her feelings, her fears, her shames, and... everything else.
She walked slowly until she heard footsteps approaching from the corridor opposite her. She did not particularly want to run into anyone tonight, but a part of her hoped to cross paths with a specific person.
A person who, it seemed, had deliberately chosen to ignore her and had, to her greatest misfortune, brilliantly avoided every opportunity to approach her. But, as if by fate, at the intersection, Alice could finally see who was now walking in front of her; it was none other than Severus Snape, the potions master of the school.
"Severus!" she called out to him.
He did not respond and quickened his pace, much to Alice's dismay, who was already struggling to navigate the long corridors.
"Severus, wait for me, please..." She began to pant.
But still, there was no reaction from the man, who maintained his brisk pace. His long black cloak billowed behind him as his gaze remained fixed straight ahead.
"Sev... Severus..." She had to stop to catch her breath, but across from her, the wizard did not halt, further increasing the distance between them with each of his long strides.
He finally disappeared around the corner of a corridor. The expression on Alice's face was a mix of sheer exhaustion and deep confusion. Her frustration continued to rise, leaving her no respite as she headed in the opposite direction of her quarters.
Knowing full well that sleep would not come, she made her way to the training room for young witches and wizards, where she took out her frustration on a few dummies that were unprepared for such a release.
Unintentionally, she went through a good number of her spells—defensive, preventive, but mostly offensive. If her frustration had not yet reached its peak, she realized she had lost much of her abilities, with her endurance having evaporated completely.
"Me unfair? Really? Is that all anyone can say to me? Alice here, Alice there! I should be pleased that, on this point, things haven't changed! By Merlin's beard!" She cast a spell that sent the dummy flying, but not far from its initial position; not enough force had gone into the spell to make a real impact. Alice frowned.
"May the heavens catch fire if Alice Mc.Garden simply needs to talk to someone! Just one person! And they can't even be bothered to look her in the eye!" She then cast a fire spell that burned half of the dummy.
Breathing heavily again, her head began to spin, and fearing she might faint in a classroom that would likely be used the next morning, she left the room, slowly but surely making her way back to her quarters.
She collapsed from fatigue once in the comfort of her bed. Unfortunately, the night had already been largely consumed by her impromptu training. The rising sun quickly caught up with her. Her body felt heavy, but now she had to face a new day burdened by her battered body and a growing sense of loneliness.
She did not attend breakfast. However, since many professors had a habit of skipping this meal to prepare their lessons, no one noticed her absence. Severus Snape, on the other hand, did show up, looking quite fatigued as he took a seat at the table. Minerva McGonagall, who generally managed to talk to him, asked him about his condition, but he diverted her attention to a group of students who were too loud for his liking. He quickly left the table after drinking a cup of coffee, and Minerva addressed Dumbledore with disappointment.
"Did I have it wrong to think the atmosphere would be... how shall I put it... more pleasant?"
"Perhaps you are being too... impatient, Minerva..." Dumbledore replied calmly. "But I understand."