Alexandra Dursley {Golden Trio}

Chapter 103 - Too Much Mead

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 Al knocked on Slughorn's office door and checked her watch. It was almost seven, so probably a good job that she hadn't put eyeliner on like she'd planned. She checked that her plaid skirt and white turtle-neck were in order and bushed a few bits off the former. The door opened and there stood Slughorn, in outrageous robes of sunset orange. Piano music soared out of the room, and Al spotted a few students behind him that had all looked over.

 Ginny, Hermione, and Neville hung around by the fire, the latter two sipping glasses of mead while Ginny had pumpkin juice. McLaggen was there too, chattering away to a very disinterested Zabini, and so was a seventh year Hufflepuff that Al didn't know. "Al," Slughorn said, standing back and ushering her in, "Come in, come in. Mead?" A bottle and glass hovered in front of her, somehow looking eager.

 "Please, Professor," she said with a polite smile.

 "Well, I think that's everybody here now," he said, as the others went back to their conversations, "Come and meet Melinda Bobbin - I'm sure you two will get on fantastically." He led the way over to the Hufflepuff and introduced her before wandering off to interrogate Neville.

 "So..." Al said awkwardly, "What misdeed did you commit to get trapped here?"

 Bobbin let out a small laugh, sipping at her mead, "My parents own an apothecary chain," she explained, "So you know, Potions professor...apothecary inheritance..." she trailed off and the two girls both took a sip. "I went to your Duelling Club earlier," Bobbin said suddenly, "You've got a real knack for this leadership stuff."

 "Thanks," Al said, "I just like bossing people about." Bobbin laughed again. "Although it was a little bit overwhelming with all those people. And I've had so much post from parents, it's ridiculous."

 "Yeah, my mum told me I had to go," Bobbin admitted, "Cause I'm graduating next year, so I won't exactly have all the Hogwarts security measures anymore."

 "At least your not a muggle-born," Al said, "We'll be the first to go once we graduate."

 "You can handle yourself, though," Bobbin said.

 "What d'you mean?" Al asked, suddenly interested.

 "Well your fight at the Ministry was legendary!" Bobbin said, apparently going full-on fan-girl now, "The Head of Law Enforcment herself commented on it in the Prophet. Mentioned you by name - didn't you see?" Al hadn't actually read that particular article, because every time she saw her name, she turned the page.

 "Oh," Al said, "No I-" But she was then interrupted by McLaggen who strutted over to them, and threw his arm around her shoulders, which she hastily removed.

 "Hello, Ladies," he said, apparently unaware of the fact that he wasn't welcome. "I was just telling old Sluggy about last Christmas. We had Rufus round for Christmas dinner. Oh sorry - Rufus Scrimgeour." Al rolled her eyes and Bobbin giggled. McLaggen seemed to take this as her thinking he was the funny one, because he turned to her. "Yeah, me and Rufus-"

 "- Rufus and I -" Al mumbled under her breath.

 "- always have a right old laugh." Thankfully, at that moment Slughorn saved them all by announcing dinner was ready. Al and Bobbin made a beeline to sit next to Ginny, as far away from McLaggen as they could get, but Slughorn stopped Al.

 "Al, do come and sit over here," Slughorn said, indicating the chair next to him, "I haven't had the chance to speak to you yet!" Al reluctantly obliged, noticing Ginny's smirking face and Hermione's pitiful gaze. Two carafs floated around the table, filling people's glasses with mead and pumpkin juice, while bowls of pea soup and baskets of rolls did the same. "A toast," Slughorn said, standing up, "To the Slug Club of nineteen ninety-seven - may the year bring prosperity and success." They all rather awkwardly drank, avoiding each other's gaze, before tucking in.

 "So, tell me," Slughorn said, dipping his roll in the soup, "What is it you want to do after you graduate? I've noticed you don't do Herbology or Defence Against the Dark Arts, so being an Auror isn't an option."

 "Oh, well I'm not really sure," Al admitted, "I'm quite inquisitive, so I've been told research and writing might be good. That's why I picked Alchemy and Magical Theory - they're such developing fields."

 "And Alchemy ties in so nicely with Potions as well!" Slughorn said, "I used to teach Bob Watkins back in fifty-six. He went on to study under Flamel, of course, and then founded the French Institute of Theorology."

 "Really?" Al asked, having no clue what he was on about, "I've also been interested in teaching. Or writing textbooks on various subjects."

 "Oh yes, oh yes," Slughorn said, "And you've the spirit for it too, I dare say - trustworthy, strong-willed. I've heard you're quite the duellist?"

 "Champion of ninety-five," she said proudly, "We had our first meeting today actually - I've never seen it so full."

 "Yes well, we're living in dangerous times," Slughorn warned, "I've heard - and correct me if I'm wrong - that you're a significant match for Bellatrix Lestrange?"

 Silence filled the room as everyone listened with interest. Ginny, Hermione and Neville avoided her gaze, very interested in their soup, while Bobbin, McLaggen and Zabini all stared at her intently. "I-uh...I have duelled with Lestrange, yes," Al confirmed. She avoided thinking about it if she could. If she'd just been that little bit better, then Sirius...

 "And survived!" Slughorn exclaimed proudly, "Truly remarkable - you must be very proud. There was that one poor fellow that she killed. Not as talented as you, I daresay? Sirius Black I believe it was...taught him myself..." A ringing filled Al's ears and the rest of what Slughorn was saying drowned out, swept away by the cascading river of fear, guilt and misery that flooded Al's mind.

 She stood up and heard a faint clatter of a spoon. "...you alright?..." Slughorn's voice said from somewhere to her right. Al stepped back, away from the table. She needed to go. She needed to get away, far away from the conversation about Sirius. She missed him. She missed him so much. And it was all her fault he was dead. And now Remus could be going the same way with this dangerous mission he was going on. He could already be dead for all she knew. And when she died, how was she supposed to protect everyone else? George? Harry? Her friends?

 The room swam around her, and Al was sure the walls moved as they swept across her vision. There was a flash of orange or red; either Ginny's hair or Slughorn's robes. It blurred past her and Al felt a gentle hand placed on her arm. She lost her balance and toppled down, down to the floor where something hard and painful collided with her knee. And all sounds, sights and thoughts left her.

 Al blinked once, twice, three times until the blurs of faces cleared. Bent down next to her was Ginny, with Hermione and Neville behind her. Stood right by the top of her head was McLaggen, looking confused about something or other, and knelt on her other side was Slughorn, a fragrant vile in his hand. "Knew that'd do the trick," Slughorn said, "Come on, up you get." Ginny helped her sit up and Al was aware of a throbbing in her head. She'd fainted.

 "Sorry, Sir," Al said, standing up hastily and brushing herself off. "I-I don't know what happened."

 "Too much mead, I think!" Slughorn said, perfectly happily, "Let's get some food down you - that should make you feel better." The last thing Al wanted to do was eat, but the only other alternative was to call it a night and she didn't think she was ready to face sleep just yet. So reluctantly she sat down, engaging in polite conversation, but with the image of Sirius plastered into the front of her mind.