TAINTED BLOOD!
confidant.

        ALEXANDRA LOATHED SPENDING TOO MUCH TIME INDOORS. As a lover of the outdoors, the teen often found solace in being surrounded by nothing but nature. Nature quelled Alexandra's nerves; it soothed her spirit and made her feel part of something far purer than anything else that existed in the world.

Seasons had never bothered the white-haired witch; she found beauty in both blossoming flowers and empty branches, for they represented the full circle of life. However, winter had to be the season Alexandra adored the most, for, no matter how dark the world could get, snow always made it seem as innocent as a babe inside a mother's womb.

After two weeks of detention, all Alexandra wished to do was bask in the cold December air. Life, however, seemed to have other plans for the young witch.

As she longingly eyed the outside grounds, Alexandra sighed softly. Oh, how the witch wished to feel her feet sink in the white-carpeted terrain, intruding the snowflakes majestic dance while allowing them temporary residence on her body.

However, no matter how strong Alexandra's desire was, fate's call rang twice as loud.

One should never underestimate the power of solitude, that much the witch had learned, for it was during the hours she'd spent polishing trophies that she'd made a bone-chilling discovery.

The forced seclusion had allowed Alexandra to examine her emotions. She'd always been short-tempered, a trait the witch hadn't inherited from either of her parents. However, it wasn't until her haunting dreams had started that Alexandra had begun to experience feelings that had, thus far, been foreign to her.

The lack of company and deafening silence had granted Alexandra the chance to explore these odd emotions, only to be horrified by her discovery.

Some of those feelings did not belong to her.

While one would have basked in the realisation that they weren't going insane, the new-found discovery had only managed to unsettle Alexandra even further.

While most of Alexandra's emotions still belonged to her ( although some – such anger – heightened by an outside force ), others came from a second party ( most likely the same person who haunted her ).

Was it permanent, or was there a cure? Did this mean she was a dark-witch in the makings? Did the evil that had festered on the bodies and souls of her ancestors slither in her bones? Was she ( like she'd always feared ) born with tainted blood in her veins? Was she becoming like her crazed grandfather?

It was due to her breakthrough that Alexandra found herself spending her first afternoon of freedom in weeks in the school's library. The wooden table she sat at was covered in books divided in piles. Next to the pristine-looking tome before her was a small stack of parchments she'd spelled to look invisible to anyone but herself, notes and observations she'd made over the past few days scribbled in neat handwriting.

Her loyal bowtruckle ( who had thrown a tantrum when Alexandra had offered it the chance to roam the grounds with Blaise ) had taken residence on top of the witch's discarded scarf, soft snores leaving its lips as it blissfully slept the late morning away.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor snapped Alexandra back to reality. The witch tilted her head to the side, her eyes locking with Aron's.

Aron Grindelwald, unbeknown to his twin, had spent weeks crippled by guilt. Images of his vision kept him from sleeping, tossing and turning all night much like Alexandra. He'd had enough of seeing his sister struggling on her own. Finding Alexandra hadn't been hard, for if one truly knew her, they'd be aware that there were only two places she might have retreated to; the Forbidden Forest or the library.

"Mum and dad have sent me a letter for both of us." The boy shyly mumbled, unable to conjure a better excuse to initiate a conversation.

Alexandra exhaled slowly. "Why are you really here, Aron?"

Aron's nerves did not stem from fear. For as far as he could remember, Alexandra's expression had always been stony and cold, aside from when she was surrounded by people she knew and trusted. No, Aron Grindelwald was not afraid of the look that often sent shivers down witches and wizards' spines, but wracked with sadness due to the mere prospect that he might have lost his twin's trust.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"I – I guess..." Aron hesitated, shoulder slumping as he whispered. "You've been avoiding them ever since we got here, and I know you're mad at me, but I don't understand why you haven't replied to any of their letters."

"You know why." Alexandra asserted. "You've known for a while now, haven't you? We're twins and, unlike me, sometimes you're kind of an open book." Reaching in front of her, the witch held her twin's hands in her own, stopping him from fidgeting. "I was mad at first. I am not gonna lie to you. I was mad because you were keeping things from me – ironic, I know – but then I thought to myself, 'he's a seer; he doesn't have control over what he sees, and, being new at this, he must have gone to Dumbledore.'."

A single tear ran down Aron's cheek, and Alexandra wasted no time in brushing it gently away, her lips stretching into a reassuring smile. "He told you not to tell me, didn't he?" She queried rhetorically.

"I wanted to tell you." Aron choked. "I was worried, I still am." It was as if a dam had broken. Aron burst into tears, his heart breaking, for he thought he'd failed his sister by doing the one thing he never thought he would have ever done to her: lying. The young wizard had always looked up to his twin and considered her his role model. Aron didn't care that Alexandra was different from the rest of their family members, for he didn't see it as a negative thing, but as something to be cherished and admired. To him, Alexandra was the strongest of them all, the one who'd never allowed a nasty comment break her stride.

Tears blurred his vision. Aron was so overwhelmed he hadn't noticed that Alexandra had stood up and crouched beside him.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Alexandra needled. "You have nothing to be sorry about, okay? I'm the one who shouldn't have lost it. You're my twin, and I should have been more understanding... I just haven't been myself lately." Shaking her head, the witch let out an empty chuckle. "Merlin, look at us: the Grindelwald twins, a complete mess." Locking eyes with Aron, Alexandra smiled sympathetically. "You saw something that truly spooked you, yeah?"

"That's not the half of it –" Aron begun, only to be cut off by Alexandra, who raised a hand to prevent him from finishing his sentence.

"Ah, ah, ah." Alexandra tutted. "Dumbledore might be as cryptic and odd as they come, but, call me a nutter, I still trust his judgment."

"But I could have stopped it all." Aron countered as he shook his head. "I saw it happening. I saw –"

"Aron Grindelwald." Alexandra pointed at him, her tone stern. "You stop blaming yourself, right now."

Aron merely nodded, a shy smile brightening his features as he welcomed Alexandra's loving and reassuring embrace.

Alexandra held her twin in her arms, his tears soaking her jumper as he held onto the fabric as if he feared she might have disappeared. Just like when they were kids, and her twin would run to her when nightmares plagued his sleep in the middle of the night, Alexandra soothed Aron by rubbing circles on his back.

The witch who felt too much ( but only showed it to those she trusted ) held the wizard who wore his heart on his sleeve until his tears stopped and breathing returned to normal.

"Now," Alexandra started as she stood up and went to sit back in her chair. "Unless Dumbledore has made you promise not to help me research why I am feeling someone else's emotions, you can keep me company as I take a gander at this book." The white-haired witch had barely touched the leather cover when she noticed her twin's opening and closing his mouth, clearly hesitant in addressing her.

"What?" She queried, prompting him to share whatever was weighing him down.

"What about mum and dad?" Ignoring his twin's exasperated sigh, Aron continued. "Why don't you tell them, or, at least, answer to their letters? Why don't you tell your friends what's happening to you?"

"Because they might not react like you." Alexandra finally admitted, her stony expression masking the fear that devoured her whenever she pictured her loved ones' reactions. "Because they might turn their backs on me, fear me. Because I don't know what the bloody hell is going on with me, but what I do know is that I am not gonna like whatever I am going to discover."

"They won't hate you; they couldn't." Aron countered, his tone as soft as his smile.

"You don't know that." Alexandra denied.

"But I do. I've seen it." Aron mumbled to himself, looking sadly at his twin who was cuddling a very awake ( and slightly annoyed ) Oaksett. Luckily, Alexandra had been too busy paying attention to her little companion to hear her brother's words, for it was true that informing someone of their future could often have catastrophic consequences. Alexandra had asked him not to break his promise to Dumbledore, and Aron had every intention to respect his sister's wishes.

"I'll cover for you with mum and dad." Aron spoke up, gaining Alexandra's undivided attention. "I'll keep the promise I made to Dumbledore – even if I don't understand why you're so keen on it – and won't tell anyone what's happening to you... after all, it's not my secret to tell."

Alexandra cocked her head, pursing her lips. "What's the catch?"

"Yes, what catch!" Oaksett repeated as he straightened itself and went to stand in between the siblings, attempting to mimic Alexandra's expecting stare.

Aron had been unable to warn her. The young wizard couldn't stop the events he'd foreseen from unfolding, but this did not mean he couldn't help in another way. Taking a page out of his cunning twin's book, Aron found a loophole in the promise he'd made to the Headmaster.

"That you don't shut me out. That, whatever happens, whatever you find out and wherever you might need to go, you let me be there every step of the way."

Alexandra bit her lip, deep in thought. The witch's heart and mind were at war with one another, for, while the former begged her to refuse and keep on shielding her brother as she'd always done, the latter reminded Alexandra that Aron was no longer a child.

"Fine." She finally relented. "This is bonkers. You're spending too much time with Cedric, and it's starting to show; bravery, selflessness, and all."

"Well, he's not the only one I'm spending time with, but you don't see me chundering mid-air, do you?" Aron snickered carelessly.

"I was only eleven, and that was my first time using a blasted portkey. Cedric and his parents should have told me not to eat a big breakfast." Alexandra huffed, only for Aron to try and stifle his laughter.

"Tell me, how was Amos' face when it all came down on him?" Aron chuckled.

"Priceless," Alexandra replied as she broke into a smile.

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   The last time all Ravenclaw students had been gathered, it was when Sirius Black had attacked the portrait of the Fat Lady. Back then, most students had been aware of the mild possibility that an Azkaban escapee could have infiltrated the school. Therefore, not many had panicked when Professor Flitwick had broken the news, for nothing short of – yet another – threat could have caused such a ruckus.

However, with no threat on the horizon ( at least none they were aware of ), no one could fathom why the Head of the House had insisted on a compulsory meeting in an emptied class with benches on each side.

"Don't get me wrong, I adore Harry, but if this is another 'alleged murderer running amok in the castle to try and finish his old mission' situation, I am going to use him to test one of Fred and George's new products." Alexandra ranted.

The white-haired witch was cranky, which was to be expected as she'd been evading sleep for several days now. However, all her resolve to avoid the nightmares had crumbled when she'd realised that the less she slept, the more her academic performance suffered. All Alexandra wanted to do was curl in bed and sleep until the early hours of the morning, but nothing was ever that easy at Hogwarts.

"What makes you think it's Harry's fault?" Freya challenged.

Alexandra merely raised a brow, her challenging stare causing the curly-haired witch to let out a rather unladylike snort. "Fair enough, but what got your wand in a knot?" Freya queried, for, oddly enough, she hadn't been able to get a read of her best friend in days now ( something she planned on bringing up to Blaise, for the boy was the only one who could see past Alexandra's stony expression ).

"I just finished my detention for hexing Rosier, which I don't regret whatsoever... all I was planning on doing was catching up on some sleep and working on that blasted Transfiguration homework; I might be good at that subject, but Merlin knows it takes me hours to finish an assignment you usually complete in minutes."

The Grindelwald witch hated lying to her friends, but what she despised ( and feared ) even more was the prospect of them suddenly fearing her ( and turning their backs on her ) the moment they found out what was truly happening.

Luckily enough, Freya seemed to have bought Alexandra's white lie, for all she did was smirk smugly at the white-haired witch as she gently elbowed her side. "What can I say, I am a genius."

"At least you never said you were humble, because then you'd be delusional." Alexandra teased her friend with a smirk of her own.

The girls' banter came to an end the moment the classroom door opened.

Much to everyone's bewilderment, Professor Flitwick was not the one who crossed the threshold. Professor McGonagall walked towards the centre of the room with her usual controlled poise, leaving a slightly annoyed Filch ( and his cat, Mrs. Norris ) to stand alone next to a wooden table.

Feeling her roommates' eyes on her, Alexandra pursed her lips. "I've got nothing to do with this. At least that I know of." She muttered, causing the girls ( Freya included ) to share a worried and perplexed look.

"Engorgio." Professor McGonagall spoke, her wand pointing at a small object Filch had previously placed on the table. Soon, what had once been something too tiny to identify, became an impressive gramophone.

"That horn is the size of McLaggen's ego." Su Li whispered to the group of fourth-year girls Alexandra sat with.

"I still think it's smaller than Freya's mirror." Alexandra joked, dodging her best friend's hand and smirking her way.

"Professor Flitwick has asked me to address you in his stead as he's currently otherwise preoccupied." Professor McGonagall informed them. "I am here to talk to you about an exceptional event. The Yule Ball, as some of you might know, has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve's night, we, and our guests, will gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity." Clasping her hands before her, McGonagall continued with the speech she'd just given to the students of her own House. "As representatives of the host school, Professor Flitwick and I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward... and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance." She'd expected the students to cause as much ruckus as their Gryffindor peers but was pleasantly surprised to see them silently communicating with one another.

While Freya looked positively ecstatic, the same couldn't be said for Alexandra. Although her stony expression would have made one think that the witch had taken the news well, Alexandra was beyond nervous.

It wasn't the dancing part that caused Alexandra to panic ( after all, Dominik Grindelwald had taught both his kids how to dance from a very young age ), but the prospect of a date.

Who in their right mind would have ever asked someone like her to accompany them to a ball? No one, absolutely no one. It was the last thing Alexandra needed: yet another proof that she was a freak of nature.

"Now, to dance is to let the body breathe," McGonagall said as she mimicked such action by elegantly outstretching her arms. "Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight. Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance." Halting in her steps, the professor scanned the room for the unruliest Ravenclaw boy. "Ah," She exclaimed, addressing a fifth-year student. "Mr. Latchingdon, will you join me, please?"

"Anyone you would like to go to the dance with?" Freya questioned her best friend as soon as the music started playing.

"Uh?" Alexandra furrowed her brows. "Why would you even ask me that? As if anyone would want me as a date."

"One sickle for each invite you receive." Mandy Brocklehurst wagered as both girls and boys were asked to stand up.

Alexandra had no other choice but to partake in the bet, for Freya had grabbed her wrist and forced her to shake hands with all fourth-year girls before she could even blink.

"I hate you all." Alexandra lied, a slight smile curling at the corners of her lips.

Far too engrossed in the ongoing conversation, Alexandra did not notice the lugubrious expression sported by Professor McGonagall, who was more than aware of what fate had in store for the young witch.  

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

a small insight into alex's emotions.
the full explanation is going to come in time, don't worry.
and congrats to the one person who did guess that the anger she felt was not only her own!

the yule ball is coming and – alex isn't ready. i am not ready. none of yall is ready.

and, for the umpteenth time, don't be a bloody silent reader! 

till next time!