Resuming her regular walks had done her a lot of good. She noted with a certain satisfaction that, over the last few weeks, her body seemed to be regaining its balance. Yet, she wasn’t fooled: she was still far from being back to full strength, far from reclaiming the capabilities she once had.
But it wasn’t just this physical weakness that affected her. What gnawed at her more deeply, what truly tortured her, were the reflexes she had lost. She felt diminished, almost ridiculous, every time she took her wand in hand. She no longer had the precision or quickness that had once been an integral part of who she was. Now, her movements were slow, awkward, lacking the confidence that had carried her so far as an Auror.
Severus’s request for her to reduce the frequency of her training had touched her. She understood his reasons, but it was still a trial. Reducing her efforts, accepting not to push herself beyond her limits, meant accepting her weakness, admitting that she was no longer the woman she had been. And that idea haunted her.
She felt trapped in a body that no longer lived up to her ambitions, her will.
Alice had walked for a good hour and found herself on the seventh floor. She stopped for a moment, thinking she’d heard a noise. Turning around, she realized a door had formed right behind her. Hogwarts never ceased to amaze her, that was certain. Curiosity compelled her, and she passed through the door.
Inside, she discovered no less than twenty students in a secret training session. They hadn’t noticed her yet.
Harry was the first she spotted; her godson seemed to have taken on the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, and from what she could observe, she thought he was quite good at it.
Alice figured they’d notice her sooner or later, so she might as well make the first move. Although she didn’t mean them any harm, she felt a bit hurt that Harry hadn’t mentioned this secret lesson to her, so she decided to make her entrance amusing—at least, for herself.
She cleared her throat loudly, using her wand to mimic a certain professor’s voice. All the small heads turned towards her, horrified expressions on their faces.
“Calm down, it’s just me!” She raised her hands, surrounded by an army of wide eyes.
“Alice!” Harry exclaimed, breaking the silence and forgetting that such familiarity was reserved for private settings.
“Well, I can’t wait for someone to explain what’s going on here…”
“It’s… you know, Umbridge, we don’t really have classes… She doesn’t teach us anything… useful.”
“Harry?” Ginny asked, as almost all the students here were unaware of the relationship between their professor and their classmate.
“Oh, right, sorry, I should have said Professor McGarden… not… um… Sorry…”
He apologized to Alice, who finally shrugged.
“Well, at this point…”
“Professor McGarden is my godmother, she… she’s on our side… at least, you are, aren’t you?”
“I’m not against you, indeed. I’d prefer to keep you all out of trouble, especially these days…”
The students seemed to relax at this revelation. Lavender Brown spoke up, as if an idea had just struck her.
“Excuse me, Professor,” she called out, “but maybe you could teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts? I mean, not that Harry’s bad, but if we could have help from a professional… it would be even better…”
The other students seemed to agree; even Harry nodded, waiting for Alice’s response. But it was Hermione who answered.
“Think about it—if we get caught, the worst we might face is expulsion, which is horrible, I’m not denying it. But for an adult like Professor McGarden… she’d be dealing with the law and the Ministry.”
“Thank you, Miss Granger; I couldn’t have put it better. I would indeed prefer to avoid any trouble with the Ministry. I still have their favor, but it won’t do me much good if I get caught secretly training a small band of resistors.”
“Sorry, that was silly…”
“It wasn’t; you’re lost in a dangerous world, and you’re seeking help wherever you can find it. That’s perfectly honorable. Just… be careful…”
Alice observed the young witches and wizards for a moment. In a way, she saw herself in them—their thirst for knowledge that drove them to break the rules…
“However, I could give you some theoretical lessons from time to time… Spells that aren’t in the books.”
“You have those in stock?” asked Ron.
“Maybe I do…”
She slipped away quickly after saying goodbye to these young rebels.
“Nice godmother, Harry,” said Fred.
“With her and Sirius, family dinners will be fun now!” added George.
Harry nodded, relieved not to have gotten into trouble. He asked everyone to focus so they could resume training.
As for Alice, she had returned to her quarters to enjoy a well-deserved night’s sleep. She thought about the upcoming ball—she’d never had the chance to experience one during her school years. Working at the Ministry, she had attended events that resembled balls, mostly alongside Millicent Bagnole, but it was likely quite different from what the school had in mind. And what did it involve, anyway? A suitable outfit? Dancing? A partner?
A week had passed, and Alice was taking advantage of a moment of peace to sit on a bench on one of the castle terraces. It was nighttime, and although she didn’t have rounds to make, she still decided to step outside for some fresh air.
Indeed, the week had been busier than usual. The most exhausting part had probably been that dinner with Cornelius Fudge. The Ministry had contacted her to introduce her to an author who would be writing a book commemorating Millicent Bagnold. The Minister had thought it appropriate to invite her to dinner with the author and a few other notable figures who had worked with Bagnold in the past.
The dinner was anything but festive; rather, it was quite dull, if Alice were to be honest. Still, she was glad to hear others share stories about her former employer.
Alice had only spent a few years by Bagnold’s side, but as a close protector, she’d had the chance to build a good relationship with her boss. Millicent Bagnold was widely known as a woman of strength and contagious cheerfulness. Everyone remembered the incredible celebration she had organized after the fall of the Dark Wizard. But Alice had come to see that beyond that, she was also a woman who couldn’t let go of her work, a person deeply dedicated to justice, and one who had a great love for teasing jokes. Alice herself had been on the receiving end of these teasing quite a few times—and in a way, she was grateful for it. It was largely thanks to Bagnold that she had become more relaxed and approachable.
During the dinner, she had learned more about the circumstances of Bagnold's death, and a certain sadness had settled over her, refusing to lift since. Millicent was a remarkable person, and Alice had never had the chance to thank her. The accident had happened during Alice’s time off, and she hadn’t seen the Minister for two weeks prior. She still remembered the feeling of missing something whenever she was away from work for that long.
And that feeling remained—a reminder of Millicent, of her time as an Auror, of the life she had before all this… She missed it.
“I should visit Alastor,” she told herself, concluding her thought.
That old grouch, who was likely even older and grumpier by now, judging from the letters they had exchanged over recent months.
“Alice,” a voice called out from the hallway.
She snapped out of her thoughts and noticed a rather frantic-looking Minerva McGonagall approaching her.
“Is everything alright, Minerva? You seem… a bit out of sorts.”
“You’ll understand soon enough. Please, come with me. We’re going to Albus’s office…”
Alice nodded and followed the Transfiguration professor, who had clearly left her quarters in a hurry, as indicated by her nightgown.
When they arrived at the headmaster’s office, Alice found the all Weasley children (at least, those still attending Hogwarts) along with Harry Potter.
“Harry, are you okay?” she exclaimed.
Indeed, Harry looked shaken—pale and trembling—though he lifted his head when he heard his godmother’s voice.
“Alice! I looked for you in your rooms, but you weren’t there, and…”
“And I’m here now, Harry. Calm down and tell me what’s happening…” Alice remained calm despite the tension she felt seeing her godson in such a state.
The young man was about to explain when Dumbledore interrupted him.
“Arthur Weasley was attacked while carrying out a mission for the Order of the Phoenix. He’s been rushed to St. Mungo’s Hospital. Harry will explain the details later. For now, I’d like you to escort the children to the Order’s headquarters… Molly will meet you there later…”
Alice nodded, understanding that this was no time for hesitation.
“I haven’t received the Order’s new address. It’ll be difficult for me to Apparate there… especially with so many people…”
Dumbledore rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a blackened kettle. At the same time, a flash of light flared in the fireplace, igniting the ashes, and then quickly fading to leave behind a single golden feather.
“A warning from Fawkes; you should hurry. There’s no need to Apparate; the Portkey will take you there.”
“Of course. Come on, children, gather around.”
Alice noted the oppressive silence among them, with every mind and heart focused on Arthur’s well-being.
“We’ll take care of Dolores Umbridge,” Dumbledore assured her as the young group gathered around Alice.
She began the countdown, and then, in a flash, they disappeared.
They reappeared in an old, gloomy, seemingly uninhabited house.
Alice took a moment to orient herself, trying to pinpoint where she’d landed, as Dumbledore hadn’t given her any specific destination. But a raucous voice from a nearby room soon put her on track.
“Blood traitors back again, the red-headed brats and the boy with the glasses! Get out of my house, you wretched little vermin!”
A shiver ran down Alice’s spine. No… Of all places, had the Order really chosen here as its headquarters?
Alice knew this house; she’d been here before, maybe two or three times. She had been young, but she remembered the coldness of the place.
“And who are you? Another intruder in my home? How dare you!”
“Shut up!” bellowed Sirius Black from the kitchen.
The shout seemed to break the tension, and the group made their way toward the dining room, where Alice joined them. Some had sat down, but most remained standing, poised to leave.
“What happened, Harry?” She softened her voice to be as comforting and gentle as possible, hoping not to further agitate the young man, who was still shaken by what he had seen.
Sirius entered the room at that moment. He nodded a greeting to everyone—everyone except Alice. He didn’t even look at her.
“I’m listening, Harry,” said the Marauder.
Harry explained everything, adding the missing details for both Sirius and Alice: his vision, the Ministry, Arthur… the serpent.
When Harry finished, a heavy silence filled the room. Finally, one of the twins broke it.
“Does Mum know? Is she coming?”
“She probably doesn’t know yet,” Sirius replied, pausing. “The important thing was to get you away from Umbridge before she could get involved. I think Dumbledore is notifying Molly right now.”
“We need to go to St. Mungo’s immediately, Sirius!” the youngest Weasley, Ginny, rose abruptly. “Can you lend us some capes or something warm?”
“Hold on,” Sirius objected. “You can’t all rush off to St. Mungo’s like that!”
“Of course, we can,” countered George. “We’re going if we want to… This is our dad we’re talking about!”
“And how are you going to explain that you know he was attacked when the hospital hasn’t even informed his wife yet?” asked Sirius.
“So what?” said Fred.
“Someone other than Harry could have told us…” Ginny retorted.
“Who, exactly?” Sirius fumed. “Listen, your father knew what he was getting into, and he wouldn’t thank you for complicating things! That’s why you’re not members of the Order… You don’t understand… There are causes worth dying for!”
“Black!” Alice shouted, determined to intervene.
The sudden interruption surprised everyone. But Sirius Black looked furious.
“Listen, children,” she continued with a calm, reassuring tone, addressing them while pointedly ignoring Black’s glare. “I understand your worry and fear, but if the Ministry begins to suspect you, it could backfire on your whole family, especially your father. He needs to focus all his energy on healing, not on fending off an invasive Ministry investigation. I know it’s hard not to hear any news about his condition, but I promise you, he will be fine. Trust the St. Mungo’s staff; they’re competent, and they won’t let anything happen to Arthur.”
Ginny sat down, folding her arms and burying her head, while the twins exhaled and did the same. Alice’s intervention, if not reassuring, had at least convinced them to remain quietly and wait.
Suddenly, a flash erupted in the fireplace, illuminating the dirty plates in front of them. Surprised exclamations rose around the table as a rolled parchment and a single golden feather appeared.
“Fawkes!” guessed Sirius. “That’s not Dumbledore’s handwriting; it must be a message from your mother. Here.” He handed the letter to George.
“‘Dad is still alive,’” George began reading. “I’m leaving for St. Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I’ll send news as soon as I can. Mum.’ Still alive… It sounds like he’s…”
“He’s in rough shape, but it’s not irreversible,” Alice added. “Don’t underestimate your father’s strength. He’ll recover quickly.”
The twins looked like they were about to protest, but they reconsidered, realizing that pessimism would only weigh down their younger siblings.
“You should get some sleep,” Alice suggested.
“We can’t sleep! And what if news arrives while we’re asleep?” Ginny replied.
“Black will let you know if any news arrives. Sleep—they’ll come faster than you think.”
“Miss McGarden is right,” Fred agreed.
“Let’s go to bed,” added George.
They climbed the stairs. Harry lingered a bit longer in the dining room before following them. He stopped in front of Alice.
“Oh, Harry…”
She took him in her arms. It was the first time she had done so, and yet Harry didn’t hesitate long before returning her embrace.
“It’s not your fault, Harry. Everything will be okay.”
“But Alice… I saw it all, how…”
“We’ll talk with Dumbledore, Harry. We’ll figure out what’s happening, but don’t blame yourself. You probably saved Arthur’s life…”
She gently stroked his head, and he finally went to bed with the others. Alice left shortly after, without bidding farewell to the master of the house.