May the Games Begin

She wakes up in a start. A cold breeze chilling the sticky sweat on her forehead. The room is hot or she had a fever, assuming the latter considering it was in the middle of autumn. It is always like this when she wakes up, after hours of tossing and turning without a stop, she’d wake up hot, unrested and particularly angry. 

She can't remember what it is that unsettles her so much, perhaps a dream. Dreams are always bad when she comes to Hogwarts, in fact she’d long ago abandoned sleeping in the bed next to the window out of fear that someone may climb through. 

She may claim to hate the manor, but Merlin at least she was sure it was safe. 

The smell of sweat makes her wrinkle her nose and she has to de-stick her sleeve from her arms, maybe she'll sleep naked from now on. 

She snorts quietly at the thought, picturing a tired Nesrin waking up in the morning and finding her dormate entirely naked. Maybe she’d scream first, then she'd pull out a camera and sell the photos around school. 

She’d have to put up with the heat of her clothes a little while longer. 

Despite the suffocating nature of the room she's in she finds herself holding back a yelp as the shock of the icy floors make it up her bare leg. One trouser leg is rolled up to her knee, the other grazing her ankle. 

It is a cold day, the autumn leaves have long abandoned their host trees and fly around in a reckless abandon, the sky is darker now and she finds herself snuggling closer into her nightgown, she loves this weather-it makes her feel so very unimportant, insignificant.

Her roommates are asleep without disturbance, and she finds her eyes drifting to the one furthest from her. She won’t lie and say she doesn’t envy Narcissa Black or the way she seems to do everything so effortlessly. While Alexandra doesn’t exactly look like a ghoul this morning, she definitely isn’t up to Narcissa’s calibre. With her icy blond hair and rose touched cheeks, it’d be hard to decide whether or not she was even sleeping.

Alexandra wakes up the earliest naturally, because she doesn’t need the rest of the dorm thinking they’re any better, particularly Narcissa.

She makes her way over to the shower, raking her fingers through her severely tangled hair. The night sweats are getting to her, she’ll have to pay Madame Pomfrey a visit.

The hot water beats down on her skin and fogs up the glassy exterior of the mirror beside it. Her lack of sleep is present in her face, she’ll have to get these eyebags sorted before she goes home for break. It’s no secret that her workload has been getting heavier as the year passes, she’s been at Hogwarts for three days, and the five subjects she picked are steadily catching up to her. She doesn’t even like half of them, with three of them being picked on the whim of out doing Lily Evans’ own selection of 4 subjects.

Now, say what you will, but she did not select Herbology, charms and Transfiguration just to be petty,she’ll have you know they also look exceptionally good on her academic credentials,the little push it gives in defeating Lily Evans once and for all- that’s just a bonus.

Now some may argue, (whatever gryffindor, ravenclaw or Hufflepuff you lent your ear to) that since Lily was head girl she’d won by default. A fair enough argument, but invalid one since everyone knows that the headmaster has an unfair bias towards all members of that damned house, in fact he even goes out of his way to ensure members from her own house were slighted in every way possible.

Not that she cares of course, the likes of Dumbledore mean nothing to her. Besides, being head girl is far too much work anyway. Merlin knows she’d drown under the stress of it all.

With the sleep sweat successfully wiped away, and her body feeling refreshed and functional, she turns off the water, which was unfortunately not loud enough to drown out the loud voices of her roommates. Nesrin had woken up, she presumes. She wraps a towel lazily around herself before poking her head out of the shower.

“Look who’s finally finished.” Nesrin says, before gathering her stuff and shoving Alexandra out of the way. “Thought i’d have to go to breakfast with unwashed hair.”

Narcissa snorts from her corner of the room, she’s flicking through a magazine lazily, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesrin throws a slipper at her before disappearing behind the door and Alexandra fights down a smirk. She throws her hair up into a loose bun before changing into her robes. “The way you argue, I'd say Lucius has competition.” She drawls.

Narcissa rolls her eyes from behind her magazine, ‘A young witch’s guide to all things beauty and magic’ it reads. “I could say the same about you and my cousin, you know.”

Alexandra pauses whilst brushing her hair, the droplets of water falling onto the towel hung around her shoulders. “Regulus?” she says, shooting her a confused glance.

Unconvinced, Narcissa sends her a bored smile , “Pretending Sirius doesn’t exist won't change anything.”

Change anything? What does that even mean?

The fact that she can even suggest there’s anything between her and Black to change is frankly terrifying and extremely concerning. It seems Narcissa’s forgotten not everyone wants to get into a relationship, some are content with simply hating blood traitors for who they are.

“I don’t concern myself with the likes of annoying toads.” She snaps, shooting the girl a steely glare. “As if I'd ever give him the light of day.”

Narcissa just shrugs in that annoying way she does, the way that seems to suggest she’s wholly above this situation and as a result is getting incredibly bored. Alexandra finds this particularly annoying considering she’s the one that started the discussion in the first place.

She’s just about to express this colourfully when Allegra, from her spot cushioned between two pillows with a third covering her eyes, decides to give her own unwanted opinion . “You have to admit though Alexandra,” She says, letting out a sigh as she stretches her legs, “He’s really fit.”

Alexandra throws up a little in her mouth. “You’re disgusting.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude.” The girl sighs, “This is your last chance to get him alone in a broom closet before we’re all locked away forever.”

Narcissa snorts, “You’ll still be a slut even after you're married,Flint.”, she states curling her hair with the tip of her wand. “Besides, who says marriage means being locked up.”

The girls share a knowing glance from across the room. Leave it to Narcissa to find a way to romanticise being sold off like property as soon as you’re legible.

“Easy for you to say,” Alexandra mutters. “At least you actually like Lucius.”

The room is silent for a moment, almost as though Narcissa’s deciding how to answer her friend correctly. She does this a lot when it comes to Lucius. Simply think. The other girls at school will tell you it’s because she’s lost in her love for him. Alexandra doesn’t entirely agree.

“You’ll find someone like him, one day.” Is all she says before turning back to her magazine, and Alexandra finds herself considering that maybe, just maybe, everything isn’t alright with them.

Though it’s a bit late now to have second thoughts, after all, they’ve been betrothed for a whole year.

“Merlin, no thank you.” Allegra says out loud. “He’s not even good in bed.”

The awkward silence is shattered to pieces and Alexandra has to bite her lip to prevent her jaw from falling open. Nesrin snickers rather loudly in the shower.

“Excuse me?” Narcissa stares,glaring holes through the girl. “And how is it you’d know that?”

Allegra sits up in bed bored, and if she did hear Narcissa’s question she doesn’t acknowledge it. “I’m Hungry.” she says, walking over to where Alexandra’s knotting her tie in the mirror.  “I hope they have pancakes.”

Alexandra eyes her suspiciously. She’s wearing an oversized Ravenclaw jumper and is in a better mood than usual. She concurs that Allegra did not spend the night in their dorm. 

“Which brother was it this time?” She remarks,her wand between clenched teeth. 

Allegra has a history of dabbling between brothers, and when she can't find some, she picks a pair of extra close friends. Why does she do this? Nobody knows. But the girls do suspect the tatters of the fraying relationship between the boys somehow excite her. 

“Anthony.” she mumbles, undoing her hair from its mussed up plait. “I couldn't find Thomas, so I had to make do.”

Alexandra will never understand the point of messing around with two when you obviously prefer one. 

“Fair enough.” She says, straightening her robes. “Narcissa come down to the great hall with me. I don’t need mulciber catching me alone.”

Narcissa sighs but stands nonetheless, “You can’t avoid him forever Alexandra, h-”

The young witch doesn't bother hearing the girl out, “Oh yes I can.” She states linking her arm through Narcissa’s. “And I will.”

—————————————————————————————————————————

The roar coming from the great hall is as loud and overwhelming as usual. Her table’s relatively quiet though, with most of the Slytherins either still down in dungeons, or if they are present, mumbling lowly between themselves. 

Alexandra spots Mulciber in the crowd, his combed hair and large build not exactly doing the best job at hiding him. She makes the rash decision to take her seat on the far end of the table, Narcissa, who she's still interlinked with grunts in dismay, before pulling her out of her seat and dragging her across the hall. 

“Merlin, Alexandra what's gotten into you?”

Alexandra knows exactly what's gotten into her. Over the holidays, the fat beater had  thought it ok to pop down to her house with a bouquet of flowers and ill intent.  Alexandra hadn't had the chance to hex him then, so the forced proximity at school may serve to push her over the edge. 

“I’ll kill him ,Narcissa.” She mutters under her breath. “You'll be responsible for his death.”

Naturally Narcissa was the first she’d told about the bizarre nature of the situation. Being Narcissa, she didn't think it was bizarre . “Maybe it'll be nice.” She’d told Alexandra on the train back to school. The response still makes the girl scowl. 

Naricissa shoots her a glare, before muttering back even more aggressively. “Just sit down, and stop being a toddler.”

Alexandra is taken aback by the insult. Toddler? She was perfectly mature, thank you very much. 

“I’m not a toddler and i’m not sit-”

“Narcissa. Garnier. What are you doing?” Malfoy asks from the seat opposite them, his icy blond hair rivalling that of Narcissa’s own. For once Alexandra does find herself agreeing with Nesrin-they look oddly related sometimes. 

Narcissa, broken out of her stupor, looks back at her fiance and sits down, dragging Alexandra with her. “Nothing darling, Alexandra was just telling me about her holidays.”

Alexandra frowns visibly, she’d have to hex her for being such a blabbermouth later. “Our trip to Venice was divine.” She says matter-of-factly, though her confusion is thinly veiled. It is clear to everyone present that Venice was not in fact the topic of conversation. 

Muliciber, apparently unconcerned by the thought of being gossiped about, asks. “Yes, you saw your father there?”

No she did not. 

“I did.It was all so lovely, he showed us around and mother was just ecstatic.”

Mulciber smirks as though expecting this answer, “Lord Garnier is known for his generosity.” He swallows down a bit of his toast before continuing, “I do hope to meet him again.”

She contemplates conjuring her broomstick and flying out of the hall. “Ah yes, I'm sure he’d like that.”

Now Alexandra, ever the intelligent, cannot seem to understand why it is that Mulciber’s sudden interest in her has manifested so randomly and in such an irritating manner. He seems to forget they are not close enough for him to be prying into family matters let alone commenting on her fathers character of all things.

Generous? He needs to pull his head out of his arse before she does it for him.

“What about you Reg?” 

Her gaze moves on from Mulciber and over to the young Black, who, at present, is mixing what seems to be his third teaspoon of coffee into the already murky mixture in his cup. He looks up and for a moment meets her stare. “What about me?” He says, his voice bored.

“How were your holidays? I see you have a shiny badge under your belt.” He nods towards his robes, and sure enough, a green prefect badge sits glimmering on his chest. 

Alexandra frowns, “Why weren’t you at the prefect meeting last night?”, had she known the boy was also a prefect, maybe she’d have thought twice about doing patrols with William Turner. She looks over towards the Gryffindor table and as usual he sits howling at a joke Black made, that,  judging from the blank faces of the rest of the table, can’t have been that funny at all.

God, she was in for a long year.

“I had things to do.” Regulus says, his face straight and his voice sounding drier than usual, “I’ll be there tonight.” Alexandra nods, bored with the conversation and turns back to her meal.

 For all the resemblance Regulus may possess physically to his brother, he truly was of a different fabric entirely. While Sirius sits lazily outstretched, his hair long and falling to his shoulders as Marlene Mckinnon plays with the cuff of his sleeve (disgusting), Regulus is put together. His hair too has grown since she last saw him but in an elegant way, he seems more mature,in fact, had he not been sat in front of her ,watching as Avery and Mulciber decide on which muggleborn they wanted to terrorise today, she might have thought him to be a foreign prince.

“I say Evans.” Avery decides, “I bet Garnier wants to get in on that as well.”

Alexandra rolls her eyes, if she’s being entirely honest, getting into confrontation with Gryffindors this early in the morning doesn’t sound very appealing. “She’s head girl now Theodore, she’s hardly an easy target.”

Avery looks at her for a moment, almost suspicious, “By the end of this year, head girl will mean nothing.” He says, his tone quiet. “Why don’t we give her a little taste of what's to come.”

The light atmosphere of the table is shot down and replaced with a quiet foreboding, they all know what’s to come after this year, it’s just Avery and Mulciber seem fixed on speeding it up as fast as possible.

“Potter isn’t going let you get very far.” Nesrin says, situating herself between Alexandra and Narcissa, Allegra sits in front. “He’d kill you before you got to her, we both know he’s capable of it too.”

Mulciber snorts and Alexandra nods in agreement. As agitating Nesrin may be, she sure is helpful when you need her. 

Avery looks insulted. “That blood traitor won’t do anything, there’s five of us and one of him.”

“My brother and his friends will also get involved.” Regulus says, his voice still carrying the same aloof tone. “You’ll be evenly matched.”

Alexandra glances at the boy again, she’s convinced this is the most she’s heard regulus talk and she’s known him for years. “We can talk about this later.” She says, getting up from the table. “I have homework to do.”

Narcissa shoots her a look as she turns to leave the hall.

What? It’s not as though she was lying.

———————————————————————————————————

The corridors are no longer empty, they’re bustling with students 7th and 1st years alike  all rushing towards the great hall. It’s always like this at the start of term, everyone still fighting to piece together their sleep schedules after the long break.

Alexandra doesn’t have this problem; in fact she argues that she spends more time up late during the school term than she does at home. There’s not much reason to stay up there- most of the time the house is quiet and the elves fast asleep by nine. Perhaps she could’ve taken a walk out, the weather was nice enough in the summer and the grounds were expansive all year round, but she didn’t, she remained in her room learning spells she’d most likely never have to use. 

She’s silently grateful for Hogwarts, at least it gives her something to do.

The family (her mother and herself) did go to Venice this summer, and it was somehow worse than staying indoors in England all day. At least the manor was big enough to house the two without having to cross paths unless completely necessary. The stupid cottage they stayed in, courtesy of her mothers desire to live on the inside of a ‘Witchly lifestyle’ magazine, was smaller than preferred leaving them with a shared kitchen and plenty of space to argue.

Her father, despite being in the area, was of course nowhere to be seen.

She doesn’t have any classes until later in the day, and despite her eager run to go and complete her homework, she finds herself not wanting to do it. Besides, the library’s packed, it’s not likely she’ll find a corner to snuggle into, undisturbed.

She takes the first staircase down to the dungeons to pick up her cloak before leaving. It’s autumn and yet the chill of the outdoors still permeates within her insides, she’s starting to think she’s not built for the winter-most days she dreams of running away to somewhere more tropical, somewhere that doesn’t make her cheeks flush an embarrassing red and her hair stand on end as though she’d been electrocuted. 

Very few others are outside, if they are, they’re heading back to the warmth of the building. Alexandra almost follows them back, but ultimately decides against it. It’s always more peaceful this way, when the stinging wind is all she can feel, and all of her thoughts are locked back in the castle.

She heads up the rickety stairs of the owlery and attempts to catch her breath when she’s at the top. She can’t remember the last time she’s been up here and yet it hasn’t changed a bit, it’s totally disgusting. She tries hard not to wretch, but as her breathing grows more laboured she’s left with no choice but to breathe in the poo infested air.

“Disgusting.” She mutters, looking around the room.

Someone chokes out a poorly concealed snort. 

Remus Lupin, in an oversized jumper and pyjama bottoms, whips his head around back towards the horizon and pretends not to have seen her at all.

It’s a bit embarrassing really, she can see him fighting the urge to rub his neck as a result of the whiplash. 

“Something funny?” She says drily, eying him wearily. She hadn’t expected to find a marauder alone and unarmed this early in the morning. If she’s honest, she finds it hard to fight off the thought of hexing him and lobbying his body out of the tower.

Remus frowns and turns around. “Garnier.” He says curtly. “Pleasant surprise.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs, a bad choice really considering the large mouthful of bird poo it forces her to inhale. “For you.”

“As lovely as ever.” He mutters, picking up his wand and walking out. Alexandra doesn’t follow him, no doubt she’d see him and his cronies terrorising her housemates at one point during the day, she’d be better off dealing with him then, when there are actual witnesses to defend her.

Not that she needed defending. 

Remus Lupin is just as pathetic as the rest of them. The world would be a better place with people like him taken care of. 

At the thought, the sun, from its place hidden beyond the clouds, directs a single beam of light at the girl, forcing her to squint. Of course the sun’s offended, she scowls, moving her arm to prevent the glare , it seems the whole damned universe is in Gryffindor nowadays.

She’s hated them since the day the hat had touched her head and they’d decided they hated her long before she had even made it to the school. Gryffindor, house of the brave, was as exclusive as her own, as unwelcoming and just as cruel. 

She’d be the first to tell you her housemates were annoying, and yes, they were interested in all things particularly disturbing, and yes, they idolised some of the worst wizards and witches to have ever existed, but still, what did that have to do with anyone? It was their path to choose, their lives to live and if sour arseholes like Black and Potter think they could do anything to stop it they are frankly deluded.

Things are changing now anyway. The air is different. It’s thicker.

A particularly harsh gust of wind carries in a tawny owl. Its large wings flap with such a grace that Alexandra finds herself staring as it circles the ceiling above her and spirals down onto her shoulder. What a show off.

“Long journey Athena?” She asks shooing the bird off of her shoulder. “You smell awful.”

Athena gives her a haughty glare and looks threateningly between her sharp talons and Alexandra's face. The witch takes a cautious step back, slowly taking out a pack of owl treats from her bag. She knows from personal experience what it's like to be on the receiving end of those claws. She doesn't think she’d like to be revisiting St Mungos anytime soon.

“Who’s this from?” 

The owl carries a letter, one that now she properly looks at it, looks strangely familiar. To touch, the brown parchment is rich, top quality and strong, expensive enough to withstand the strength of a bird's beak without creasing. The wax seal pressed onto it glimmers a vibrant red, it’s familiar, it's her own. 

Mother?

It can’t be, the woman doesn’t take liberty in writing to her daughter, if she had a concern she’d write to Slughorn instead. No, this handwriting is different, it lacks the careless flow of an unconcerned woman, it’s strong, sharp with purpose, the x in her name loops in a manner unique only to her and one other.

She racks her brain for an answer. What could she have possibly done to warrant the attention of Lord Garnier?

She hasn’t heard from her father since 4th year, even then it was hardly a letter. More of a threat in writing. Remember who you are, before I have to remind you. He had said, and she’d listened. 

So what the hell was happening now?

Athena, still hungry and relatively angered at the thought of being left hanging by a teenaged witch of all people, hoots impatiently as if telling her to hurry up. Alexandra shoots her a glare and when the bird is finally quiet, she reaches for the bag of treats and empties it into a food bowl. “Thank you.” She mumbles, running down the rickety staircase.

She bumps into several people on her way to the dungeons. The corridors are packed as students make their way over to their respective lessons. Technically speaking, she should be heading off to transfiguration in the opposite direction. She makes sure to snuggle further into her cloak when she sees McGonagall walking in her direction.

Perhaps her father had just wanted to check on her.

She dismisses the thought as soon as it comes through; the man has never bothered, it isn’t logical for him to only begin now.

“Merlin Alexandra!” Allegra exclaims from her seat on the floor of their dorm room. She seems to be sorting through Narcissa’s suitcase, something Alexandra would have to follow up on later. “What are you doing here!”

Alexandra shrugs off her cloak and kicks off her shoes, before moving to sit on the bed opposite her. She can feel her heart racing.

“I didn’t feel like going to transfiguration.” She says a bit stiffly, pushing the letter further into her robes. “What are you doing?” 

Allegra follows her gaze to the suitcase. “Just sorting through some things.” She says simply. 

The girls sit in an awkward silence for a moment. 

“I should go, Slughorn will be at my throat if i don’t show up to potions.”

“Good idea.”

Allegra nods in reply and spells the suitcase shut before turning to leave. She’s visibly uneasy, the way a mouse would be once caught in a trap. It’s all very suspicious. What business does Allegra have going through Narcissa’s things?

She throws herself back onto the bed and covers her face with a pillow. All these questions are making her head hurt. The brown letter poking out of her robes feels like lead at the moment. She lifts it up and starts to read. At least she’d be alone here for a few hours.

Alexandra,

I write to inform you about a few things. I have returned to the manor and expect to see you sooner than later. As for your schooling I cannot tell you of this in writing lest it be intercepted, but I can tell you this, the time for you to do your part and further augment our house’s honour has finally come. Remain steadfast in your education of the dark arts and i expect you to utilise all of the equipment i have sent you over the years, listen in to conversations, befriend who you must, i have no doubt in my mind that you will do the name Garnier proud as you have been raised to do.

Do not forget who we are.

Victoria aut mors

Lord Sebastian Garnier.

Alexandra crumples the letter before tossing it across the room. Her heart has stopped racing, it’s come to drum painfully slowly against her chest instead.

Her time has come.

She rolls over groaning into the pillow. What is it she’d done to deserve this?