Alexander Prewett
Ginny blinked awake to a knocking at her door. Her mouth was dry, unclean, and her skin was grimy- she hadn’t showered in nearly three days, and it showed. She sat in her bed, evening light streaming in through the closed blinds, and looked around her mess of a room. The only thing kept clean was her desk, with its papers of half-remembered rituals from the book mum had burned.
A knock came at the door again. Speak of the devil. “Won’t you come down for dinner, dear?” Mum was worried about her, she knew. She also didn’t really care. “Come down, sweetie, you’ve barely eaten anything these past few days! Come and have some dinner.”
It was true. It’d been nearly three days since the letter didn’t come, and Ginny hadn’t left the room once. Mum had tried to feed her, but no matter what she put in front of the door, Ginny just…couldn’t muster up the energy to eat. So she didn’t.
“I made chocolate cake, your favourite! Please come down, we’re worried about you.” Mum implored. Ginny’s stomach turned at the thought of eating anything at all, let alone something so sweet. Mum wasn’t gonna leave till she responded though, so…
“No,” She croaked, voice rough and almost painful in her throat. She hadn’t spoken in nearly three days, but her throat felt abused nonetheless. She coughed. “‘m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten in three days!” The doorknob rattled as mum tried it, but Ginny had stuck the key in the lock; not even an Alohamora would make it work now.
“Not hungry.”
“Come on, just a little-”
Ginny grit her teeth, glaring at the door. She reached off the bed and blindly groped for something to grab, something to throw- her hand grasped a shoe, and she threw it with a shout of anger. “GO AWAY.”
It thumped against the door, and fell down onto the ground.
Mum seemed to dither in front of the door, but her steps retreated down the stairs nonetheless. A pang of hunger shot through Ginny’s stomach; she groaned and rolled over.
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At around noon the next day, a decidedly heavier set of footsteps climbed the stairs. They paused in front of the door for a moment, trying the doorknob, before a chuckle sounded through and the footsteps retreated. Ginny narrowed her eyes, but whoever it was had obviously left, so she didn’t care much. She rolled over on her bed and buried her head into a pillow again, trying to block out the world.
A commotion reached her ears nevertheless, concerned shouts and excited whoops penetrating the pillow’s comfy protection. “Can’t they just keep quiet?” She grumbled, rolling over to look at the wall next to her bed.
They did not keep quiet. In fact, they got louder. Ginny pulled her pillow closer around her, for all that it didn’t really help. She shivered as a breeze touched her back, goosebumps travelling up her skin- wait a minute.
She whipped around on the bed, turning to find her window open and a man standing in the room, a grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked vaguely familiar, though she was positive she’d never seen him before. Probably a relative of some kind, then, and his face looked closer to mum’s than dad’s. He had short coppery red hair, black eyes, and was looking around the room curiously.
“Who’re you?” Ginny demanded, scrambling into a defensive position and grabbing the closest weapon at hand- her pillow.
The man smirked, and nodded to the pillow. “Good instincts. Always go for a weapon when you can, though a pillow is probably not the best choice. We’ll work on that.” After a brief pause, where Ginny didn’t respond, he continued. “Alexander Prewett, your mum’s cousin. Pleasure to meet you.”
She narrowed her eyes and raised her pillow up defensively. “You here to take me away?”
Alexander blinked at her, then laughed. “No, of course not. Molly contacted me when they found out you were a squib-” Ginny flinched, and Alexander zeroed in on it. “Ah, you haven’t accepted it yet, have you?”
“I- I have,” Ginny said, looking down and away from the infuriatingly understanding look in the man’s eyes. “I know that I’m a- a squib.”
He looked at her, not with pity, but rather an empathy that she didn’t know what to do with. “How long have you known?”
“Since I was seven,” Ginny whispered, “I just-”
“Never said anything. I know.”
And when Ginny looked up, and saw the same frustration, same bone-deep anger that she saw when she looked in the mirror, and found that he did know.
“I’m Ginny Weasley,” She said, letting go of her pillow and reaching out for a handshake.
Alexander barked out a laugh. “Alexander Prewett.”
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“How do Wednesday’s sound, Alexander?”
“Wednesday's aren’t the best day for me, Tuesdays or Thursdays would be preferable.”
“Do both work?”
“Of course, I’d be happy to help her as much as I can.”
Ginny looked back and forth between the adults, irritation slowly rising as they talked about her like she wasn’t there. Dad recognized the signs on her face and hurriedly turned to address her. “We’re just discussing when Mr. Prewett-”
“Alexander.”
“-Alexander will come pick you up for tutoring.”
“Tutoring?” Ginny asked.
Mum and dad gave each other a look. “Well, dear,” said mum, “You need to go to school, and, well-”
“They can’t take you to Hogwarts, and Hogwarts wouldn’t teach you what you need to know to survive as a squib either,” Alexander cut in, “So they’re asking me to tutor you.”
Ginny looked back and forth at her parents and Alexander, before turning to Alexander and narrowing her eyes. “How are we paying you?”
“Ginny!” Mum exclaimed, scandalised, but Alexander chuckled.
He looked at Ginny, amusement and approval glinting in his eyes. “Good instincts, Ginny. Never accept a contract without reading the fine print, and even then keep your wits about you. I’m doing this as a favour to Molly for now, but if it becomes too much your parents and I will renegotiate terms.”
Ginny thought over this for a moment, before accepting it with a decisive nod. It wasn’t like there was much she could do about it herself, she was eleven, so she’d just have to call that “good enough” for now. There was a small noise of amusement, and she looked up to find Alexander’s eyes glittering with humour. She scowled at him. He laughed, and raised his hands in surrender.
“Well, you two certainly get along well,” Dad cut in wryly. Ginny turned her scowl on him, and he sighed, before turning back to their guest. “Now, Alexander, when do you want to start?”
“Today, I should think,” He replied, turning away from Ginny to meet dad’s eyes. “I don’t see a reason to wait.” After receiving an amiable nod from dad, and a more worried one from mum, he turned to Ginny. “The floo address is 718 Knockturn Alley-”
“You live inKnockturn Alley?” Ginny interrupted, stars in her eyes.
Alexander smiled, but the skin around his eyes tightened. “Yes. I expect you will too, someday, it’s the place with the cheapest rent and the Ministry does its level best to keep all the “undesirables'' there.”
“Alexander!”
“She’s going to find out sooner or later, Molly.”
“She’s eleven!”
“Sooner, then.” Mum and mum glared at each other, dad looking very uncomfortable to be caught in the middle, before relenting with a roll of his eyes. He turned to Ginny. “Would you like to go now?
Ginny looked back and forth between him and mum, but eventually gave up on trying to understand the adults. “Okay, let's go.”
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This became the pattern of things for the next few months. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Ginny flooed over to 718 Knockturn Alley for tutoring with Alexander. He taught her muggle things, mostly, reading and writing and maths. Lots of maths.
He was an accountant, and it seemed to Ginny that his greatest love of life was maths. Most magical children learned maths the magical way, namely, their parents taught them what they remembered, and then if the child wanted to learn more they’d take arithmancy. Not so with Alexander.
Instead, Ginny learned multiplication, division, fractions and decimals, over the course of three months. Alexander wanted to go even slower, but Ginny was sure he was going to teach her rituals after teaching maths, so she pushed him to go faster. He just smiled knowingly and complied.
After three months, he gave her a test on the maths she’d learned, and she passed it with flying colours. She turned it in with a smug grin to meet his challenging eyebrow, and sat back to watch his face as he read through the test.
She knew he didn’t think she could do it, and watching his expression change from exasperation, to mild bafflement, to excitement, to impressed was like ambrosia to her. (She’d learned about ambrosia from one of Alexander’s books, one about the Greek Gods. He always had it at his desk, bookmark on a story about some goddess named Nemesis. He was weird like that.)
After he finished grading the test, he sat back and stared into the distance for a while. When he turned back to look at her, his eyes had changed. They no longer held their customary faintly amused look, but were hard, cold and calculating.
He told her to come in on Fridays.
As it turns out, what came after maths wasn’t magic. Instead, she started learning muggle history, science, and literature. Starting with the history, which while fascinating, was very much not magic. Plus, it’s not like she’d be living in the stupid muggle world either, so it didn’t matter much to her!
She worked without complaint for the most part, though, even if she wasn’t quite as motivated as she was with the maths.
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays became her refuge. The Burrow was suffocating now, mum forcing Ginny to stay home, to stay inside, to stay safe. She couldn’t run around in the deserted hills of Ottery St. Catchpole anymore, she couldn’t go visit the brook when it all became too much, she was barely allowed to leave her room!
Alexander was a breath of fresh air in comparison. He didn’t always take her out, but on Fridays he led her through Knockturn (Knockturn Alley!!!) into Diagon, to buy her some ice-cream from Fortescues. He quizzed her on maths, history, and science the whole time, which ugh.
But at least she was able to explore a little bit, and stretch her legs from being inside all day.
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It was Friday, ice-cream day! Also test day, as Ginny had discovered, but the ice-cream made up for it. She flooed to Alexander’s at 10 o’clock, as usual, and found him in the flat getting ready to go. He always prepared far more than necessary on their little trips, it seemed, and she didn’t understand half of what he did.
She did understand the big knife he strapped to his waist, though, and hoped he’d never have to use it. (That was a lie, she really wanted to see him stab someone. He was always so…mild mannered, and calm, it would be hilarious to see him lose his shit.)
“Ah, Ginny right on time. Give me just a moment, I’ve got a couple more things to get ready before we head out.” Alexander was fiddling with his coat, adjusting the straps around his knife and potions belt.
“Sure, Alexander.” Ginny stood by the door, trying and failing not to fidget while he got ready. He finished up barely a minute later and smiled at her.
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright then.” He opened the door, and they were on their way to Diagon.
Knockturn Alley was a decrepit place. People who hadn’t bathed in days splashed through puddles of who-knows-what on the edges of buildings and under awnings, cloaks turned up against the ever-present chill. The buildings were close together, blocking out most of the sunlight and creating a claustrophobic jungle of storefronts and bars, with the occasional bathing house thrown in for flavour.
It got better as they got closer to Diagon, cleaner streets and freer air, but there was a zone before they got to the entrance- where the streets were clean enough people could do business, but lawless enough that the business could be anything. Alexander always hurried Ginny through this area, pulling a hood over her head and walking faster, avoiding eye contact. Anyone who tried to strike up a conversation was soundly ignored.
Not so this time. “Hey, ‘Xander!” Alexander’s shoulders tensed, and his face shifted into a grimace before turning to meet the person who’d called out for him. The man had ash-grey hair and beetly black eyes, glinting with something hard and cruel. He smiled roguishly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“‘lo, Jameson,” Alexander said. His voice was casual, but it didn’t escape Ginny’s notice that his hand had landed lightly on his knife. She looked back and forth between the pair of them, eyes wide.
“You’ve been coming to less and less of the Children’s meetings lately. You been thinking of leaving us?”
Alexander stiffened, and his grip tightened on his knife. “You best watch what you say, Jameson. Some of us would gut you for that insinuation.” He took a step forward.
Jameson’s previously cocky smirk drained off of his face. He took a hurried step back, smiled nervously, his eyes darting back and forth. “No, no. I know you better than that, we, them! They were just getting curious, I’m just the messenger.”
“Well. You can tell them,” Alexander snorted derisively, “That I do not appreciate the inquiry.”
“Yeah, yup, will do.” Jameson nodded frantically. “I- Uh, how have you been then? What’ve you been up to?”
Alexander scrutinised him for a moment, before relaxing slightly and giving a wry smile. “Well if you must know, I’ve been doing some child rearing.” He tilted his head down towards Ginny, who was looking between the two of them with confusion and awe.
“You’re doing some child rearing? You? Who are you and what have you done with Xander?”
Alexander relaxed fully, hand leaving his knife to run through his hair and land protectively on Ginny’s head. “Well, you know how it is. Things change, people surprise you, yada yada yada.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jameson replied, “Still. Wouldn’t’ve thought you were one for children.”
“Oh she’s not mine. Just doing a favour for family, you know?” Alexander stared at him, eyes conveying something Ginny couldn’t quite translate. “See you at the next meeting, Jameson.”
“Yeah yeah, see ya’, ya’ old fart.”
Alexander watched him until he’d turned the corner, hand drifting back to his knife until Jameson was out of sight.
“Who was that?” Ginny asked.
He turned to look at her, customary smile on his face but skin tight around his eyes. “Just a friend. Now come on, let’s go get some ice cream.”