Alice and Mr. Wildsmith had a complex relationship. She wanted to like him, truly, but he nearly always proved why interclass friendships (at least to the extreme theirs was) didn't properly function. He was too oblivious to the plight of the working class and she could only tolerate so much of it before wanting to explode. It wasn't anything against him, Alice understood that he was raised within a world that otherwise ignored her existence. She was, however, unable to understand his adamant refusal to accept that she accepted her lot in life.

(Distantly, Alice sometimes wondered if she might ask him to see if his family would be willing to sponsor her through her NEWTs, but always ultimately decided it would be too cruel of her to take advantage of him in such a way.)

Regardless of their differences, she was still a kind enough person to pay a visit to a friend in the hospital. Especially so once she considered he likely only entered because of their tutoring sessions. "Mr. Wildsmith," she greeted whilst looking over what exposed skin she could see. "Congratulations on making it to the final round. That was quite an impressive feat. I'm sorry it ended so ... dramatically. Are the healers tending to you alright?"