CHAPTER TWENTY—SEVEN
dumbledore's warning

warnings!
mentions of war, confrontation
& verbal conflict, mentions of azkaban,
insults & derogatory language

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┊͙✧˖*°࿐ THERE WAS ALWAYS A CERTAIN feeling in the air the first day back of term, a palpable sense of anticipation and excitement. Students eager to see each other after being apart for the summer, the welcome back speeches, and of course, the feast.

Ailleda did not get to experience any of this, because as soon as she arrived at Hogwarts, she snuck away from the group and creeped through the quiet corridors of Hogwarts straight to Professor McGonagall's office.

Perhaps this was a poor idea, and she contemplated turning back around and going back at least a hundred different times. The corridors were silent, fairly dark apart from the torches on the wall illuminating the castle.

McGonagall's office was a small study located off of the first-floor corridor, to the right of a staircase ascending to the Serpentine Corridor on the third-floor. Once Ailleda had made it inside, and slowly pushed the door open to avoid it creaking, she step inside, and closed it behind her.

The room had a large fireplace, with windows overlooking the Training Grounds and the Quidditch pitch. Ailleda felt bad — she didn't mean to intrude in the Professor's personal space. But she had something that she needed to do, and she wasn't about to let her own worries get in the way now.

She pulled open a drawer that had filed paper folders in it, all addressed alphabetically. Ailleda sifted through the folders with her fingertips, past Granger, Longbottom and Potter until her fingers found what she was looking for. Weasley.

Slowly and deliberately, Ailleda extracted the folder from its resting place, the well-worn pages of the file revealing a trove of seemingly inconsequential information – academic transcripts, scores from years past, and a myriad of disciplinary records and detention slips. Her fingers danced over the irrelevant documents as she skillfully navigated through the bureaucratic detritus, her singular focus being on finding his timetable for this year.

Once she had found it, Ailleda found a scrap piece of parchment and quickly jotted down his timetable word for word. She glanced over it with her eyes, making sure she had all the details correct, before she closed the file again and slipped it back in McGonagall's drawer, being careful to make sure nothing seemed out of place.

Not wanting to spend any longer than she needed to in the office, Ailleda folded the parchment in half, taking it in her hand before slipping out of the office again.

Her next stop was to the dungeons. She glanced over Ron's timetable in the meantime — Defence Against The Dark Arts was a given, Transfiguration and Charms, too. No astronomy, which Ailleda was mildly disappointed about, considering that was her favourite subjects at O.W.L. level, but it was no matter. She hadn't chosen it herself, considering her parents would have absolutely freaked out if she had dared to do it.

When Ailleda reached Professor Snape's office, she discreetly slipped inside, finding the room as gloomy and dimly-lit as ever. The shadowy walls were adorned with shelves holding large glass jars filled with slimy and repulsive concoctions—bits of animals and plants suspended in potions of various hues. However, Ailleda paid little attention to the eerie surroundings. Instead, she headed straight towards Snape's desk, and started rummaging in there for her own file.

She was grateful she was one of the first Slytherins alphabetically, because Snape's drawers were a mess compared to McGonagall's. Ailleda found her file, flipping straight to her timetable for this year. And without so much as a second thought, she begun to change it so that hers matched with Ron. No matter how much it would pain her to see him all the time, she would be damned if she let fucking Emery get ahold of him. Ailleda didn't have much of a plan yet, but for the time being, she would try to keep an eye on him.

Once she had changed her schedule, she quickly put her file away, and got out of the office as quickly as she could.

The Great Hall was alive with the usual ambience of students, all excitedly talking and laughing amongst each other. She must have missed The Sorting Ceremony, but that didn't bother her too much.It was always a dull affair, and she assumed Emery had been sorted into Slytherin, judging by her green robes and her sitting next to Aaron at the Slytherin table.

"I swear, you lot are all acting so mental!" Pansy remarked as Ailleda slipped in next to her on the long wooden bench at Slytherin bench as she returned. "Where have you been?"

"Wasn't feeling well," Ailleda said, brushing Pansy's comment off.

Luckily for her, Dumbledore stood and took to the owl podium, and began his speech, not allowing Pansy to question her further. "The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore exclaimed, projecting his voice so everyone in the now silent hall could hear him. "First off, please join me in welcoming the newest member of our staff, Horace Slughorn. Professor Slughorn, I'm happy to say, has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master. Meanwhile the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be assumed by Professor Snape."

Ailleda politely applauded and stole a glance at Professor Slughorn, who stood graciously as Dumbledore introduced him, raising a hand and offering a smile. Ailleda observed his stature, noting that he was quite short—perhaps even shorter than herself. Dressed in finely tailored robes with a matching hat, Slughorn appeared less daunting than Professor Snape. Ailleda suddenly found herself lamenting that Ron (and by extension, herself) was no longer enrolled in Potions.

"Now, as you know, each and everyone of you was searched upon your arrival tonight. You have a right to know why," Dumbledore declared, pausing for effect. "Once there was a young man who,like you, sat in this very Hall. Walked this castle's corridors. Slept beneath its roof. He seemed, to all the world, a student like any other. His name? Tom Riddle."

The Hall went utterly silent, making Ailleda shift uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of The Dark Lord. Even Aaron kept his head down as the name left Dumbledore's lips. Draco, on the other hand, was slouched low, lazily levitating a forkwith his wand, as if Dumbledore were unworthy of attention.

"Today, of course, the world knows him by another name. Which is why, as I stand looking out upon you all tonight, I am reminded of a sobering fact. Each day, every hour, this very minute perhaps, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle. But in the end, their greatest weapon remains... you," Dumbledore said. "Just something to keep in mind. Now, off to bed. Pip pip!"

Ailleda rolled her eyes and rose from her seat, joining Pansy. Dumbledore's words sounded noble, but what was she expected to do? Spark a revolution single-handedly and save the world? It was easy for him to utter such sentiments, ignorant of the complexities of her life. Her anger simmered beneath the surface; she understood, in part, what he meant. However, life was far more nuanced than Dumbledore's idealistic proclamation.

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AILLEDA'S PLAN WAS PROVING TO be more challenging than she had originally anticipated. She thought it would be easy enough to hang around by the library when they were there, or be strolling around the grounds during Quidditch practice. But no. Instead, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, the geniuses they were, had decided to spend their free period knocking around in the corridors. As the younger years found themselves rushing to their classes, Ron and Harry stood on the ledge by the wall, laughing at them all. Ailleda found the task of appearing discreet whilst hanging around the area near impossible.

That is, until Professor McGonagall intervened, calling Harry over. Ailleda's ears perked up, trying to listen in to what they were saying. "Potter!" she called out to him. Ailleda watched as Harry muttered something to Ron, then made his way over to the Professor.

"Enjoying ourself, are we?" Professor McGonagall asked, arching an eyebrow. Allieda leant against the wall, happy the streams of students offered her somewhat of a disguise.

Harry began explaining, "Well, you see, I've got an open period this morning, Professor—"

"So I noticed," McGonagall interrupted. "I would think you'd want to fill it with Potions. Or is it no longer your ambition to become an Auror?"

Harry hesitated before responding, "It is. Or was. But I was told I had to get an Outstanding in my O.W.L—"

"And so you did when Professor Snape was teaching Potions. However, Professor Slughorn is perfectly happy to accept N.E.W.T. students with 'Exceeds Expectations.'"

"Really? Well... brilliant," Harry said. "I'll head there straight away."

"Good. And take Weasley with you. He looks far too happy over there," McGonagall suggested.

When Harry turned around, Allieda lamely ducked down, trying to avoid being seen by him. Her cheeks flushed bright red from embarrassment as some first year Hufflepuff shot her a glare. A first year Hufflepuff! Allieda marvelled at the audacity displayed, tempted for a moment to trip the girl with a slyly extended foot. Suppressing the impulse, she instead straightened up, nonchalantly brushing her hair out of her eyes. Without missing a beat, she trailed behind Ron and Harry, maintaining a discreet distance.

The thought of doing Potions for another two years was a sordid thought, but she tried not to linger on it.

Ailleda tried to keep up with the two Gryffindor boys, watching as they entered the Potions dungeon. She waited a while outside, not wanting to barge in too soon afterwards, like she had been following them or something... well, she had been following them, but that was besides the point, really.

After an acceptable amount of time had passed, Ailleda pushed open the door to the Dungeon, to be met by the whole of the Potions class staring at her. Professor Slughorn turned to face her, but before he could speak, she smiled politely and said, "Good morning, Sir, I'm so sorry to interrupt. I was hoping I'd be able to join? I know I'm not on any class lists or anything, but ever since I found out you would be teaching Potions, I knew I had to at least ask."

She saw Ron roll his eyes at her from where he stood with Hermione and Harry, and although it stung, she felt better by Professor Slughorn saying, "Why, of course, Miss Adley! Your mother showed particular aptitude for the subject, as I am sure you're aware, I would love to have you in the class! Come, join, there's textbooks in the cupboard if you need. We've only just started brewing Draught of Living Death."

Living Death. Yeah, that pretty much summed up how she was feeling right about now. Regardless, she smiled, and nodded her head in appreciation. "Thanks, Sir."

Professor Slughorn continued with his lesson as Ailleda reached for a textbook in the cupboard, flipping to the page in the textbook as she walked to where Pansy and Draco were sitting. Lavender Brown, with her unfortunate bright pink headband, glowered at her as she walked past her. Ailleda merely scrunched up her nose, smiled and waved at her in a manner so sickly sweet Lavender rolled her eyes at the girl. It was so easy to get under Gryffindors skins.

"I thought you hated Potions," Pansy whispered to her as Ailleda sat with them, beginning with the potion and firstly adding Infusion of Wormwood, as per the instructions.

"I had a change of heart," Ailleda muttered back in response.

"I thought you failed your O.W.L.'s," Malfoy retorted with a small scoff.

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy, if I was you I'd be worrying about Daddy dearest, not my grades," Ailleda shot back. Malfoy glared at her immediately — perhaps it was a low blow, but he deserved it. Lucius Malfoy was probably rotting away in Azkaban as they were speaking... and admittedly, Ailleda could not have cared less.

"Ailleda!" Pansy gasped as the words left her mouth, but Ailleda simply shrugged.

It came to no surprise that Ailleda failed miserably at making the potion — but somehow, Harry had been the only one in the class who had managed to successfully brew it. He stood in front of the class with a smug expression on his face, beaming as Professor Slughorn handed him a small vial of Liquid Luck.

"Wanker," Pansy coughed under her breath, earning a glare from Hermione and Ron, and a small laugh from Draco.