Funeral

Alex leaned in close to Wilkes, his sneer sharp and cutting. "Sorry, but I don't take orders from lapdogs. You should focus on your own business. Life can be tough for a dog without a master—be careful you don't end up like your uncle."

Wilkes's face twisted with fury, his fists clenching as his fake friendliness melted away, leaving only raw anger. Just then, Snape strode into the common room, his dark gaze sweeping over the tense scene. It was as if he appeared out of thin air, his voice slicing through the air like a whip. "What's going on here?"

Travers and Wilkes exchanged worried looks, their faces tight with tension. They silently cursed their luck, knowing that if Snape decided to report them, they'd be in serious trouble.

"It's nothing, Professor," Alex said, his voice calm and laced with a sly grin. "We were just catching up. Wilkes mentioned he misses his uncle and wants to spend more time with him."

"His uncle?" Snape's eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze to Wilkes, recalling that Wilkes's uncle had passed away last year. The insinuation in Alex's words was clear, and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Is that true, Wilkes?" Snape asked sharply.

Internally cursing Alex's venomous jab, Wilkes forced a stiff smile. If Alex was implying he missed his uncle, it was a veiled suggestion that Wilkes should join him in death. Still, Wilkes managed to mutter, "Yes… that's right, Professor. We were just… catching up."

Snape studied Wilkes for a long moment before turning his gaze to Alex. "Follow me."

"Of course, Professor," Alex replied smoothly. He cast a mocking smirk at the others before following Snape out of the common room.

Snape led Alex to his office in the dungeon, where the dim light and damp air added to its eerie, oppressive feel. Once inside, Snape spun around, his eyes sharp and cold. "You think you're clever, don't you? Stirring up trouble, pushing boundaries. Does it make you feel powerful? Satisfied? Or is it all just a game to you?"

"Trouble?" Alex shot back, crossing his arms. "I don't think standing up for myself counts as stirring up trouble. Those guys were the ones who started it. I'm not going to bow my head just because they feel like throwing their weight around." He paused, then added with a pointed look, "Besides, you're the one who insisted I stay in Slytherin. I wasn't having any problems outside of it."

Snape's expression tightened. "Are you blaming me for this?"

"Not at all, Professor," Alex replied smoothly. "Actually, I think it's been… enlightening. It's shown me what real power looks like." His smirk was both defiant and amused.

Snape's voice dropped lower, more serious. "As Head of Slytherin, it's my job to warn you—don't bring unnecessary trouble to this house."

"Understood," Alex replied, his tone calm but laced with challenge. "But if you're saying I shouldn't cause trouble, does that mean I can't defend myself when someone else starts it?"

Snape's lips twitched with irritation, but he didn't argue. Instead, he changed the subject abruptly. "I recall seeing you in Knockturn Alley last summer."

Alex's smirk faltered slightly. "Yeah, that was you, wasn't it? You nearly killed me."

Snape's expression didn't waver. "But you're still alive, aren't you?" His eyes flicked to the pendant around Alex's neck. "At the time, you had a protection charm. Not something I'd expect you to have created."

Alex pulled out the pendant, holding it up for Snape to see. "This? My aunt Augusta and Lily made it for me before I started at Hogwarts. I've kept it ever since."

For a moment, Snape's harsh demeanor softened as he examined the charm, his fingers brushing over it. Alex shifted uncomfortably. "It's from Lily," he said, his voice quieter. "If you're so interested, maybe you could make one yourself."

Snape straightened, his expression icy once more. "I don't take what belongs to others," he said curtly, though his gaze lingered on the charm before he finally stepped back.

"You're not fitting in with Slytherin very well," Snape remarked, his tone unusually measured, as though he was genuinely concerned.

"I can handle myself, Professor," Alex replied, his voice steady. He wasn't sure what to make of Snape's sudden shift in tone, but he had no intention of letting his guard down.

"Very well," Snape said after a long pause. "You may go. I'll have a word with Wilkes. Just make sure not to bring trouble to my doorstep."

Alex nodded and turned to leave. As he stepped out, he could feel Snape's intense gaze lingering on his back. Once the door shut, Snape sank into his chair, his face tightening. Alone in his office, a single tear slipped down his cheek as he whispered Lily's name.

Back in the common room, Alex endured a constant barrage of sneers and whispered insults from the pure-bloods. Under Snape's watchful eye, they avoided outright confrontation, but Alex could feel their eyes on him, waiting for a moment of weakness.

The Potter family's funeral was a stark contrast to the quiet hostility of the Slytherin common room. Unlike the smaller, somber ceremonies for the Prewett brothers and Marlene McKinnon, the Potters' funeral was massive—a spectacle more than a farewell. The Ministry had even commissioned a statue of James, Lily, and Harry for Godric's Hollow, hidden from Muggle eyes by enchantments.

But beneath the surface, Alex could feel the hypocrisy. The crowd wasn't there to mourn the Potters—they were there to celebrate Voldemort's fall. Their polished smiles and relieved laughter masked their insincerity, leaving genuine grief buried.

As Dumbledore delivered a moving eulogy, Alex stepped forward, weaving through the sea of flowers to lay a single hyacinth on the Potters' grave. The flower symbolized sorrow and regret—a fitting farewell. Without a word, he guided Hagrid away from the spectacle, offering the giant a quiet moment of comfort.

Back at Hogwarts, Alex buried himself in his studies, trying to keep the haunting memories at bay. Yet, the shadows of the past loomed large, refusing to let go.