Alice returned by Apparating and then had to cross the school to reach her quarters. It was quite cold that evening, and in the rush of events, she hadn’t grabbed anything warm. Once inside the castle, the air was gentler, but she knew she’d be cursing that chilly walk if it ended up making her sick.
She walked at a brisk pace, wishing for nothing more than to reach the comfort of her bed. But fate had other plans, and she ended up crossing paths with Dolores Umbridge.
"McGarden... Alice.”
“Umbridge… Dolores.” It seemed the fatigue and adrenaline from the past hours hadn’t left Alice’s body, and she was determined to get rid of her colleague as quickly as possible, by any means necessary.
“Strange things are happening tonight, I hear,” Umbridge remarked with a smirk.
“I hadn’t heard about new ghosts hauting the school,” Alice replied, with a sharp edge to her voice.
“That’s not what I meant, Miss, and you know it very well…” Umbridge paused, her narrowed eyes fixed on Alice. “Do you know anything about the disappearance of the Weasley children and Harry Potter?”
“They’ve disappeared?” Alice feigned surprise.
“Yes, Miss. You should be aware of what’s happening…” replied Umbridge in a sickly sweet voice. “I’ve learned recently that you’re the godmother of young Potter…”
Alice raised an eyebrow. “No, to be honest, I was off visiting my aunt Fichemoi Lapaix, so I haven’t the faintest idea of what could be going on here… Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s such a pity, I was hoping you might help your former colleagues at the Ministry solve this mystery…” Umbridge insisted, her smile fading slightly.
Alice sighed with exaggerated weariness, emphasizing her exhausted look. “Forgive me, but since the accident, I’m not who I once was. I’m now so weak and… not very attentive…” She put on a vulnerable air, her tone conveying a hint of exhaustion. “I really don’t think I’ll be of any help to you…”
“I still have a few questions for you, Miss…” Umbridge began, but Alice didn’t give her a chance to finish. She had already turned and was on her way, giving a simple wave in farewell.
“My weak body needs rest. Good night, Dolores.”
“And you told me you didn’t want trouble with the Ministry?” Snape said, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn’t feel like spinning a web of lies,” Alice replied, an ironic smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’d rather come across as an idiot to Umbridge…”
It was the following afternoon, and Alice had joined Severus in his office to recount the events as well as the news she’d received that morning. Arthur Weasley’s life was no longer in danger, but he would need intensive care and a long recovery. The Weasley family had received this news with immense relief.
“And you should’ve seen Black’s face when I stepped in!” Alice exclaimed. “He looked like he was saying, ‘This is none of your business!’... Honestly!”
“I’d rather not imagine his face,” Snape replied, sorting through papers on his desk with a detached expression. “But you should be careful with that woman. The Ministry is more than capable of turning on you; if you become suspicious, they won’t hesitate to investigate. They’ve already managed to find out you’re connected to Potter.”
“That wasn’t exactly a secret,” Alice shrugged. “I’d already mentioned it back when I worked there. As long as they don’t dig any deeper…”
“And if they do dig deeper?” Snape interrupted, his gaze growing more intense.
“I’m not worried. Moody and Millicent made sure everything was erased. Plus, my little run-ins with Umbridge won’t necessarily ruin my image with Cornelius Fudge. He didn’t seem too unfriendly to me at last week’s dinner…”
“If you say so…” Snape frowned. “Speaking of your dinner, your little ploy apparently worked: the ball will indeed take place, much to the delight of the children.”
Alice jumped down from the table where she’d been sitting, a wide smile on her face.
“What fantastic news!”
Snape shrugged, looking doubtful.
“Dumbledore probably forgot to inform you, with everything that’s going on. The official announcement will be made tomorrow…” He sighed a little. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. You can always ask the concerned parties yourself.”
“It will lift the students' spirits,” Alice said enthusiastically. “Umbridge has been tormenting them non-stop, and despite all my efforts to cheer them up, they still seem glum.”
“Your ‘efforts’ consist of leaving sweets out in your classroom… A naïve and pitifully ineffective initiative, but it’s fitting for you, really,” Snape concluded.
“Oh, you’re such a killjoy! And now that it’s official, are you going to the ball?” Alice teased, flashing a mischievous smile.
Snape rolled his eyes, wearing the familiar annoyed expression Alice knew so well.
“It’s true, we really don’t have a choice, do we…” She concluded.
“Chaperoning two years in a row… I’m certain Dumbledore has no idea of the torment he’s imposing on me,” he retorted bitterly.
“It’s one evening in the year, Severus. And who knows, it might even be fun.”
“You weren’t here last year,” he replied with a sigh. “You have no idea how aggravating it is.”
“No, you’re right, I wasn’t…” she said, and her smile faded slightly.
A silence settled between them. Severus realized the clumsiness of his comment, and though he wasn’t one to regret his sharp words, this time he felt a twinge of remorse.
“Sorry. That was thoughtless,” he said softly.
“It’s all right,” Alice replied with a forced smile, to show she wasn’t holding it against him.
Severus returned to his papers, but his focus was gone. Trying to regain his composure, he didn’t notice that Alice had discreetly moved much closer.
“They’ve really grown out,” she noted, reaching for one of his dark locks. “I know you like to keep them long, but this is a bit much, even for you.”
“I haven’t exactly had the time to take care of myself lately…” Severus replied, a bit self-conscious.
“Well, with the ball coming up, you have a good excuse. A quick charm, and it’s sorted.”
“I don’t like using magic on myself,” he replied.
“That’s true… We’re quite different that way. I rely entirely on my wand for my hair…”
She moved even closer, taking one of her own locks to compare it to his.
“Then again, you might be onto something,” she said, examining her hair in the light. “With all the charms I use for color, curls… they don’t have the same shine as yours…”
Severus felt her breath near his neck, each word resonating close to him and stirring a wave of nervousness.
“Do you want me to take care of it the Muggle way? With scissors?” She straightened, letting go of her hair, giving Severus a chance to regain his composure.
“I suppose, yes…” he replied, a little unsettled.
“Can I do it?” she offered, her eyes twinkling.
“You?” he replied, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
“It’s just cutting, right?”
“I’m not foolish enough to let Miss ‘I’ve never held scissors in my life’ anywhere near my hair.”
“Oh, come on, Sev!” she protested playfully.
“I may not pay much attention to my appearance, but I’d rather avoid looking like a scarecrow.”
“Come on, consider it my reward for completing my challenge! I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“There was no reward for that challenge, Alice, and my hair is not going to be your playground,” he responded firmly.
Alice put on a pouty face but eventually gave up on the idea, knowing he was perfectly entitled to refuse.
“Oh well…” she said in a mock-resigned tone.
Severus sighed, partly relieved he hadn’t had to argue any further.
“I suppose I should be going. I still need to talk with Harry…”
“Well, for once, I don’t have to show you the door…” he replied.
“I’ll show myself out, just so you don’t waste your breath. Look at this!” She headed toward the door, adopting an exaggeratedly deep and monotonous voice. “Alice, I’m tired of your incessant chattering. Go home.” She returned to her normal tone with a smile. “All right, have a good day, Sev’.”
Then she slipped out, closing the door softly behind her. The Potions Master remained still for a moment, before dropping his head into his hands.
This was bad. Very bad, he told himself. He was struggling to keep the distance he’d carefully built. At every turn, she seemed to come closer, and he, despite his best efforts, found himself doing the same. As time passed, they were rediscovering the easy companionship they’d had before the accident, a natural bond rekindling beyond his control.
But more unsettling than the constant tug-of-war between his reason and his feelings, something else was surfacing inside him. Another sensation—unexpected, unwelcome. The tension he’d felt when Alice had leaned in, playing with his hair… that sudden, erratic heartbeat, the discomfort… and the feeling that stirred insistently, somewhere much lower.
Meanwhile, Alice had found Harry and invited him to talk in her classroom. The poor boy looked utterly exhausted, lost in thought.
“How are you feeling, Harry?” she asked gently.
“Not too great, to be honest…” he replied, looking troubled.
“Arthur’s out of danger. It’s thanks to you,” she said, hoping to reassure him.
“Maybe, but… I feel like he’s in my head, Alice…”
Alice tried to learn more about Harry’s visions. They talked about everything he’d seen and this unsettling sensation of being watched. She promised to speak with Dumbledore and find a solution soon. Legilimency might be the best approach, she thought, though that would be up to the headmaster to decide.
Despite their conversation, Harry still seemed preoccupied.
“Christmas is coming soon. Is there anything special you’d like?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Not really, I haven’t thought about it… Honestly, I’m not used to being asked what I’d like…” he replied, hesitantly.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything! Surely Mister Christmas has something to leave for you under the oak!” she said with a grin.
“It’s called Father Christmas, and you put presents under a fir tree, Alice…” Harry corrected her, smiling. “You’re not the best with Muggle traditions, I’ve noticed.”
“No, not really,” she admitted, laughing a bit. “I wasn’t raised with them at all.”
“You didn’t have Christmas as a kid?” he asked, surprised.
“My family was… very conservative. So Muggle holidays… those were heresy…” she explained.
“That much?” he asked, taken aback. Alice nodded.
“Not exactly a fun family… Even the Dursleys celebrated it. Sometimes I’d get a little something, like a trinket they found last minute or an old toy my cousin didn’t like anymore…” Harry looked at Alice, curious. “You’ve never really talked about your family, Alice. Do you all get along?”
“Not really. We haven’t spoken in years; actually, even before the accident, that was already the case…” she replied distantly.
“They didn’t even try to reach out when you woke up?” Harry asked, surprised.
Alice shrugged, a gesture that clearly meant “No.” Harry understood all too well.
“Well, you could spend Christmas with us, then…” he offered with a comforting smile.
“I’d love that, Harry… Oh! Hang on a moment!” she exclaimed, disappearing into a small room at the back of the classroom.
Alice returned a few minutes later, her hands filled with animated photographs.
“Sorry, I never took the time to make an album... Besides, there probably weren’t enough pictures to fill one... But it’s something!”
She handed a few photos to Harry, who studied them intently.
“Is that me?” he asked, pointing at a chubby baby in the center of one of the photos.
“Oh yes, that’s definitely you! You were a big baby!” she exclaimed with a nostalgic smile.
Harry looked at the next photo with curiosity.
“I once tried organizing a Christmas,” she explained, laughing a little.
In the photo, several people sat around a living room, with a tree decorated in the background with garlands, Christmas baubles, and stars.
“I forgot it was supposed to be a fir tree! I thought any tree would do!” she admitted, laughing.
Seated on a chair was Alastor Moody, looking much the same as he did now, which amused Harry. Next to him was a young man just a bit older than Alice: it was Kingsley Shacklebolt. She introduced Harry to the others in the photo—all Aurors, colleagues. Harry didn’t remember their names, but he noted that Alice was the youngest among them and that everyone looked happy.
“That was in 1983… Twelve years ago… It feels like it was yesterday. I wanted to make the next Christmas even better, learning more about Muggle customs. Lily wanted you to grow up with both magical and Muggle traditions…” she explained, a bit wistful.
“Was the next Christmas better? Did you remember the fir tree?” Harry asked, curious.
Alice smiled at him gently. “The attack happened the week before Christmas 1984…”
“Oh… I’m sorry,” he said, realizing the gravity of the memory.
“We’ll do better this year,” she said, playfully ruffling his hair.
Harry handed the photos back to her. “Do you have more?”
“I’ll have to search at home; it’s a bit of a mess... But I’m sure there are more somewhere,” she said thoughtfully.
“I can’t wait to see them! And to hear more about your work as an Auror! I find it fascinating!” Harry said enthusiastically.
“Of course, Harry, anytime you want to talk about it. But for now, you have a History of Magic class, if I’m not mistaken,” she reminded him with a smile.
“Unfortunately, you’re not mistaken,” Harry sighed dramatically.
“History’s important! Pay attention!” she encouraged him with a wink.
Harry headed off to his class, and Alice stretched before returning to her work. She was worried about her godson’s state and knew she had to find a way to help him beyond simply distracting him with old stories.