Dumbledore's expression was really strange. He looked at her for a long moment before saying, "Voldemort is still alive, and he's constantly looking for ways to become stronger again. As for whether he'll kick off another reign of terror… all I can say, my dear, is that an old codger like me is still kicking. I'll do everything in my power to give you kids a peaceful environment to grow up in."
As he spoke, he winked, the corners of his mouth turning up into that bright, grandfatherly smile that could light up the whole room.
Alice saw the reassurance in his twinkling blue eyes and felt certain he already knew exactly what she wanted out of life.
"Professor… are you pinning way too much hope on Harry Potter? Like, the kind of crushing burden he might not even be able to carry?"
She finally asked the question that had been bothering her forever.
She could feel how protective Dumbledore was of Harry; it went way beyond normal teacher-student affection. It felt more like tragic, pitying hope, the kind you give someone you're rooting for but are pretty sure is doomed.
Yeah, tragic pity was definitely the right word.
In Alice's eyes, Dumbledore both expected Harry to do something legendary and felt heartbreakingly sorry for him at the same time. She got the "great things" part; Harry's life story was awful enough to justify that. But the pity? Where was that coming from?
It was almost as if Dumbledore already knew Harry's fate was going to be some epic, gut-wrenching tragedy he couldn't stop; just had to watch the kid walk straight into it. That feeling was seriously weird.
Alice didn't think Dumbledore could actually see the future or anything.
Dumbledore clearly hadn't expected this little girl to be so sharp. He'd been pretty sure nobody; not even Snape; had picked up on how differently he felt about Harry. He stared into Alice's eyes and asked gently, "Why do you ask that? I have high hopes for every young witch and wizard here. Or do you think I'm playing favorites?"
"If that's what you're worried about, then let me assure you; I have every bit as much hope for you, my dear!"
Alice shook her head and just laid it all out for him. When she finished, real surprise finally showed on Dumbledore's face.
For a split second he saw a flash of someone else in her; Galen Nicholas, an old friend who, decades ago, had also possessed that annoying gift of seeing straight through him and leaving him flustered more than once.
He looked at the stubborn determination in Alice's eyes and knew that if he didn't give her a half-decent answer she'd never let it drop. So he thought. For a long, long time.
While he was thinking, Alice took the chance to really look around the Headmaster's office. All the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses were staring at the two of them like it was basically live reality TV for dead wizards.
Some of the painted eyes were full of approval, others just curious. A few, though, were shooting her straight-up hate. She figured those were the hardcore pure-blood supremacists.
Alice rolled her eyes at them so hard it hurt. The hateful ones immediately started mouthing off, but the friendlier portraits slapped hands over their mouths. One sweet-looking old witch even gave Alice a big thumbs-up.
Alice couldn't help grinning. See? There might be a lot of blood-purist jerks, but there are just as many people who can't stand them.
Her gaze drifted to the Sorting Hat sitting on the corner of Dumbledore's desk this time. Last visit it had been way back on a shelf where she couldn't reach it. Dumbledore was deep in thought right now…
She started sneaking her hand toward the hat.
A huge mouth ripped open in the creases and the hat bellowed, "Hey, little missy, what do you think you're doing?!"
The shout snapped Dumbledore out of his trance just in time to see Alice's fingers inches from the brim. She yanked her hand back, cheeks burning.
"I was just curious!" she protested. "I wanted to figure out exactly why you put me in Slytherin."
"So? How's Slytherin treating you, kid? Told you I didn't get it wrong, didn't I?"
Alice pulled a face. Life in Slytherin hadn't exactly been peaceful, but it was definitely… interesting. "It's… fine, I guess," she muttered.
Dumbledore casually slid the Sorting Hat onto a high shelf behind him; pretty sure that if he'd been two seconds later Alice would've set the thing on fire just to see what happened.
Alice noticed and huffed. "I was gonna study it, Professor, not destroy it! What kind of person do you think I am?"
"Oh, I trust you completely," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling again. "I'm just protecting a thousand-year-old piece of school property. Wait till you're Headmistress one day; you'll understand why we have to guard against curious little witches like you. Your curiosity could power the Hogwarts Express."
Alice raised an eyebrow; she thought she had pretty good self-control, thank you very much; but she shut up. He was finally ready to talk.
"Alice," Dumbledore said softly, "what do you think about prophecies?"
She thought about it. "A year ago I would've laughed in your face. Now… now? I believe some of them. Selectively."
Dumbledore nodded. "There is a prophecy concerning Voldemort. It says that one born as the seventh month dies will have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord."
He didn't quote the whole thing; he figured what he'd said was plenty for her to let her connect some very big dots.
Following that logic, Harry Potter; born at the end of July; was the one with the power to beat Voldemort. But Alice's brain immediately poked holes in it.
"But… Harry already beat him once, right? So why is this still hanging over him?"
A flash of real pain crossed Dumbledore's face. "Because, my dear, the final part of the prophecy says that one must die at the hand of the other. And I think we can both agree that neither Harry nor Voldemort is actually dead yet."
Oh. Right. Neither of them was dead.
So the prophecy wasn't over.
…
Theodore watched Alice sitting there with a goofy smile on her face, totally zoned out, and his expression went thundercloud-dark. But he didn't try to snap her out of it. He just stood guard, making sure no one bothered her.
A few minutes later Alice blinked back to reality, saw Theo's scowl, and immediately played dumb. "What? Why do you look like someone hexed your broom?"
Before he could answer she grabbed his sleeve. "Come on, we're going to find Hagrid!"
"…Why?"
"So Hagrid can take us to see the thestrals!"
She'd gotten official permission from Dumbledore. Which meant her budget-friendly, homemade Banner of Ten Thousand Souls finally had a viable main ingredient!