"Snape?" the Bloody Baron echoed, sounding puzzled.
"Yeah," Alice explained. "I want to know what the head of house went through back when he was a student—what he faced in Slytherin and how he handled it."
She figured since she and the Bloody Baron had finally found some common ground, she might actually get some real answers out of him.
The Baron stared into Alice's eyes, searching for a reason to say no, but nothing came to mind. To him, it made total sense she'd be curious—after all, Snape was the only well-known half-blood wizard from Slytherin she really had around as an example.
Still, he hesitated. What Snape had done back then to survive the pressure in Slytherin was a world away from how Alice was pushing back against the pure-blood extremism now.
"Is something holding you back?" Alice asked, giving him an easy out. "If it's a problem, I won't push."
The Baron shook his head. "No issue. Just… bad timing. When the moment's right, I'll be happy to tell you a few things about your head of house."
Seeing his reaction, Alice let it drop for now. Still, it wasn't a total loss—he hadn't shut her down completely. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.
She didn't want him knowing she could pull an all-nighter and still be fresh as a daisy the next day, so she faked a yawn and said she was heading out.
Just as she turned to leave, the Baron called after her. "Why did Dillyshatty Bode claim the ghost choking him that night looked like an old man?"
Alice didn't even look back. "A total sleaze like him panicking and getting it wrong? Totally normal. I had my hair hanging over my face that night."
"I'm beat, sir. Gotta get some sleep—classes tomorrow."
The Baron's face went blank again. He'd decided to keep that vacant look locked in for a while. Lately, his weird behavior toward Peeves had caught Dumbledore's eye, and playing dumb was the perfect shield against the headmaster's questions.
"One question, three 'I don't knows.'" That was the Gray Lady's advice.
Wait—suddenly remembering something, the Baron floated back down to the tower. The Gray Lady spotted him returning, and her gloomy expression twisted into pure disgust.
"What are you doing back here?" she snapped.
"Why'd you spill the whole plan to Norton?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Weren't you worried she'd push back?"
"Do I need to run every move by Sir Cadogan now?" the Gray Lady shot back, venom in her voice.
"You know that's not what I meant!" The Baron's tone rose to match hers.
The Gray Lady had been ready to tear into him, but suddenly all the fight drained out of her. Her voice went flat. "Alice Norton isn't some naive kid like most her age."
"I can tell she's sharp—well-educated, has her own take on things. She's already clocked that we've been testing her. If we don't come clean and explain ourselves, she'll fight us tooth and nail."
"With someone like Alice, honesty beats scheming every time. Tricks just make her trick you right back. Once she thinks we're playing mind games, we'll never get close to her again."
The Baron blinked, stunned by the monologue. He wasn't dumb—just not big on overthinking people. But now, replaying his talks with Alice, he saw the Gray Lady was spot-on.
He nodded, the lightbulb finally clicking. "Ah. So that's your angle."
"Now that you get it, why are you still here?"
She was kicking him out. Every minute around the Baron made her skin crawl. The raw hatred on her face hit him like a punch. Regret flashed across his face as he opened his mouth. "My girl—"
"GET OUT!" the Gray Lady roared.
If Alice had stuck around, she'd have seen the Gray Lady drop every trace of her usual quiet melancholy—replaced by pure, blazing fury.
Too bad Alice missed the show.
---
Alice opened her eyes to Millicent brushing her hair. Without looking up, Millicent asked, "Pansy, how's Malfoy doing in Quidditch practice?"
Pansy was straightening her robes. She answered without hesitation, "No clue. Haven't been paying attention to Malfoy lately."
Huh?
Every girl in the dorm whipped their heads toward Pansy—even Alice was surprised.
She knew how head-over-heels Pansy had been for Malfoy. He was on the Quidditch team—how could Pansy not go watch?
The room's reaction made Pansy's cheeks flush. Had her crush really been that obvious?
"Was I seriously that see-through?" she muttered, face burning.
Millicent rolled her eyes. "The funniest thing in the world is when someone thinks their crush is a secret. Let me put it this way: the only person who thinks a crush is subtle is the one crushing."
"Tch!" Alice let out a perfectly timed click of her tongue. When did Millicent get so savage?
Pansy's face went from pink to tomato-red, somehow making her not-so-great features look a little more alive.
She tried to explain. "Look, Norton's right. I shouldn't be obsessed with Malfoy and ignore myself. I need to level up. Then either he'll notice me, or I won't need him anymore."
Alice raised an eyebrow. Pansy Parkinson actually figured that out on her own? Or… did someone coach her?
Either way, if Pansy was serious, Alice was all for it. She liked seeing people around her grow—she really did have a heart of gold.
Millicent, watching Pansy puff up with newfound confidence, grinned. "Let's all go to the Quidditch match! Slytherin vs. Gryffindor this time!"
"Alice, you too!" she added. "A little fun'll do you good—work smarter, not harder!"
Alice almost said no—she wasn't big on Quidditch. But then she thought, Why not?
"Sure," she said. "I'm in."