Alya, Sirius and Regulus ate in absolute silence. Sirius had a grim, frowning expression on his face, the flame of anger still burning on his cheeks due to the humiliation he had suffered in the living room. His mind was probably devising some mischief, with the aim of making his cruel mother pay for it.

The three children had almost finished their lunch when Walburga appeared again in the kitchen, emerging from the shadow of the stairs. She cast a reproachful look to Sirius, who stubbornly ignored her, finding much more interesting staring the scraps of the food on his plate.

The woman turned to Kreacher, who bowed profusely, bending over until his hairless gray head hit the cold floor.

"Kreacher, as soon as he's finished eating, keep Sirius here in the kitchen." she ordered coldly. The elf nodded reverently.

"What? Why can't I go play?" Sirius broke his silence, protesting warmly.

"Because you are grounded." Walburga answered dryly.

"For what? I didn't do anything!" he retorted.

Alya and Regulus were witnessing the scene without saying a word, pretending to be part of the furniture.

"Nothing?" Walburga hissed, narrowing her glacial eyes threateningly. "You showed up to the Muggles and caught their filthy attention to our house!" the woman's cold voice thundered all over the kitchen. Even Kreacher looked troubled, crouching silently in a dark corner.

"Four Muggle children have been hanging around our house all morning, throwing rocks at the walls and yelling things like 'Come out, witch!' or 'Show yourself, ghost!' "

Sirius did not answer, continuing to stare with admirable obstinacy at his silver plate. He stared straight ahead with an expression of simulated indifference, as if this reproach was not meant for him.

"You know the rules. Never let Muggles see you!" the angry woman claimed strongly.

Holed up behind a stiff silence, Sirius raised his eyes, staring at his mother defiantly.

Without taking her gaze off her son, Walburga sighed in exasperation, returning to her usual flat, cold tone:

"Very well: Alya Merope, Regulus, go upstairs. You are allowed to play until dinner." she told the other two children, who hardly dared to breathe. "Sirius, you'll stay here to study."

The woman picked up her wand and whispered an almost inaudible spell. A huge book appeared on the table. It had a hard and thick black cover and it looked very old. Sirius stared at the large volume with the same disgust as when looking at the corpse of a large repulsive insect.

The title engraved on the dark cover read:

'Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy'

Walburga waved the wand again and the book opened heavily, banging the black cover on the table, with a loud thud.
A title appeared immediately in black letters:

'Interaction with the Non Magical World: Risks and Dangers'

At that sight, Sirius locked his lips tightly. Anger and disgust sparkled in his eyes.

"You must read the chapter carefully. And then you must learn it. By heart." Walburga said, spelling out the last two words clearly.

"All of it? By heart? YOU ARE CRAZY!" he yelled, furious.

"Keep protesting and I'll make you study the whole book!" his mother silenced him with a cruel expression.

Sirius was about to burst out, but the risk of getting worse punishment stopped him. He just shot a look full of hatred at his mother who, in the meantime, had turned away from him, ready to climb the stairs.

"Kreacher, stay here and keep an eye on him, please. I'll be back in a couple of hours to check the progress." Walburga commanded Kreacher, imperiously.

"Yes, mistress!" chirped the elf, prostrating himself again to the floor and glancing triumphantly at Sirius.

Finally, Walburga went back upstairs to the living room, followed by Alya and Regulus, leaving Sirius alone, with nothing but the black and ancient book for company.

***

The pale sunlight flooded the large living room, filtering through the tall windows.
Illuminated by the rays, the gold thread snaking along the branches of the Black Family Tree sparkled brightly, creating a pleasant contrast to the dark green background on which it had been embroidered.

Alya was reading one of the tales of Beedle the Bard to Regulus, both seated on one of the couches by the fireplace. Meanwhile, Walburga was playing the black piano, filling the room with a wonderful and melancholy melody.

A soft stillness hung in the air. Alya took a deep breath of it, happy to share that rare moment of serenity with her little brother and her mother.

Only a discordant note was able to crack the sense of bliss that had invaded her heart.

Suddenly, the image of Sirius flashed among Alya's candid thoughts, alone in the kitchen, intent on memorizing the ancient teachings, steeped in values ​​that he had always despised.
For a brief moment, Alya felt sorry for her twin brother. She wished he were there in the living room too, with her.

But Alya didn't have much time to mull over Sirius's sad fate. Suddenly, something jolted her out of her thoughts. The melancholy melody played by Walburga was drowned by a long, loud sound of the strikes from the ancient pendulum clock which overlooked the fireplace.

Mrs. Black looked up quickly at the clock face, her fingers still over the black and white keys of the piano. When she noticed the golden hands marked four o'clock, Walburga stood up and walked with a determined step towards the door of the living room. It was time to go check on Sirius.

However, just before vanishing over the doorstep, Walburga froze for a moment, as if she had suddenly remembered an important matter.

"Alya Merope, come here, please. I need to talk to you." the woman said to her daughter, in a terribly serious voice.

Caught off guard, Alya winced, wondering what on earth she'd done to get her mother to address her like that. Regulus stiffened too, casting a worried look at his sister.

Then, Alya gave up reading the tales of Beedle the Bard and joined Walburga waiting at the edge of the door, who motioned to follow her to the landing. After closing the door behind her back, Walburga gave her daughter an intense, inquiring look.

"I know you had another one of your nightmares last night, isn't it Alya Merope?" the woman began, sternly.

Alya looked down guiltily. Her mother knew about the bad dream she had had the previous night, apparently, even if Alya had been careful not to mention it to anyone, not even to Regulus.

As if she had read the little girl's mind, Walburga explained:

"Kreacher told me he heard some strange noises last night, like moans. They came from your room."

Alya let out a slight annoyed sigh. Krecher hadn't missed the chance to spy, as usual.

"Alya Merope... what you saw is only the fruit of your mind. It is only a dream! There is nothing real, so you have no reason to be afraid. You need to learn to master your mind. And your emotions. Even while you're asleep. " Walburga scolded her, in a tone which didn't sound comforting at all.
Alya stared at the floor in silence, unable to look her mother in the face, to meet her disappointed gaze.

However, Walburga took her daughter's chin between the long, cold, white fingers and lifted her face so that their eyes met.

"You are a Black, Alya Merope. And the Blacks are not afraid of anything. They do not allow themselves to be subdued by anything or anyone. Much less by their fears." Walburga declared with fierce pride.

Trapped by her mother's firm grip, Alya nodded energetically as she tried to fight the unfair tears, which had formed in the corners of her eyes.

"Master your mind" Walburga repeated, gravely.

"Yes, mother." Alya answered, with all the firmness she had managed to muster.

At that point, Walburga let her go.

"Now you can go back and play with Regulus. I must check on Sirius." she concluded hastily. She shot her daughter one last piercing glance, then she headed for the kitchen.

Alya obeyed and went back into the living room.
When he saw his sister enter, Regulus ran towards her, showering her with questions.

"What did mom tell you?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing important." Alya answered laconically . She didn't want to talk about the bad dream again.

"Are you in trouble?" Regulus insisted.

"I'm not" Alya said, giving her little brother a reassuring smile.

"Thank goodness! I don't want you're grounded, like Sirius. I don't want to stay here playing alone!" he grumbled, sulky.

"But I'm not like Sirius!" Alya snapped, pretended to be offended. Regulus laughed.

After that, they both sat down on the sofa and Alya began to read the fairy tales of Beedle the Bard again.

***

The rest of the day ran out quickly.

After dinner, Alya immediately ran into her room. Her mother's cold, harsh words still echoed in her head. Master your mind. Even while you are asleep.

Nevertheless, her thoughts were sharply interrupted. As she closed the door behind her, Alya immediately saw the creepy silhouette of the porcelain doll on the bed, patiently awaiting her arrival, as always.
Alya shivered in disgust, but this time she decided neither to throw the toy under the bed, nor to hide it somewhere else.

If she had to learn to master her fears, she might as well start with that hideous doll.

Alya put her pajamas on, then she lay down under the sheets of the bed, holding the porcelain doll beside her.
She turned off the light and closed her eyes, facing the thick darkness that surrounded her with all the courage she had.

Within minutes, the little girl slipped into a dense, ink-black sleep. As last night, only the figure of the porcelain doll appeared to her in dream. The blond curls floated in the dreamlike darkness like the golden tentacles of a large lace-adorned jellyfish.
Suddenly, the toy began to deform with fluid slowness, taking on the shape of a large snake again.

The reptile looked Alya in the eye, twitching its forked tongue out of its flat jaws. It hissed an incomprehensible sound, but the little girl understood the animal asked her to follow. So, Alya obeyed, walked behind the snake, plunging into the dense darkness of that absurd dream.

The shape of a small dilapidated house emerged from the shadows. Alya recognized it instantly. It was the same house which had appeared in her dream last night. The corpse of a little snake still dangled, nailed to the wooden door.

Alya was seized by a spasm of fear, but she forced herself to ignore it, determined to continue on her path. She followed the snake beyond the entrance of that mysterious dilapidated house, through the narrow kitchen and found herself again in front of the door of that strange cross-eyed child's room.

Alya took a long, deep breath before reaching out and grabbing the doorknob. She armed hermself with all her courage and opened the door.

Everything inside the room was unchanged, identical to how Alya remembered from her last dream. The skinny unknown girl was still sleeping in her rickety bed. Alya looked at her with curiosity mixed with a slight fear.

Alya saw the skinny shape of the unknown girl, among the worn sheets of the battered bed. She stared at her insistently, noting that in her arms she still held the porcelain doll identical to Alya's. Sensing the weight of a foreign glance, the thin little girl opened her eyes and woke up.

Her squinty eyes filled with terror, her bony fingers harpooned the blue velvet dress of the doll with force the istant she became noticed the Alya's presence. The unknown girl was about to scream, and so would Alya if Walburga's stern words hadn't crossed her mind. Master your mind.

So, little Black said with unexpected courage:

"Wait! Don't scream ... I don't want to hurt you!"

She watched the child's reaction; she feared that her words could not be heard. She was inside a dream, after all. However, the intervention seemed to have the effect because the girl froze and fell silent, although she kept staring at her with suspicion and fear.

"Do not be afraid." Alya said again, in a low voice, in an attempt to reassure her.

"Are you a ghost?" the skinny girl stammered in fright.

"Of course not!" Alya answered indignantly.

"Why are you in my house? How did you get here?" the crossed-eyed girl asked.

Alya thought about it for a few seconds, confused. In fact, she had no idea.

"Actually... I don't know" she said mortified.

A deep silence settled upon the room, neither Alya nor the skinny child uttered a word, both absorbed intheir own doubts.

Suddenly, the cross-eyed girl broke the silence and asked:

"So... What's your name?"

"Alya... My name is Alya Merope Black" Alya introduced herself hesitantly. The bony girl rolled her eyes in surprise.

"Alya Merope..." she repeated with a strange voice. "Are you kidding me?"

Alya stared at her, a bit dazed. She shyly shook her head, in denial.

"My name is Merope!" the little skinny girl explained. "We've got the same names!"

"Really? What a coincidence!"

"Maybe, it's a sign. We must be friends." Merope announced solemnly.

Alya smiled. She realized that the idea did not displease her at all. That little girl didn't look dangerous, after all. In fact, she even seemed a nice and likeable person, although she was a little weird.

Suddenly, the room began to sway and Alya forsaw that soon she would wake up. The environment around her dissolved. Alya was immersed in a dark mass devoid of consistency. She floated in that inky black sea for a moment, until she opened her eyes. It took a while for her gaze to adjust to the dark. Finally, Alya recognized the familiar lines that drew her bedroom.

She was back in Grimmauld Place. Unlike the night before, however, it had been a quiet awakening: no sweat, no paralysis. Alya felt satisfied and happy. She had dominated her mind. She had dominated her fears. She had even made friends with them. She was proud of herself.

Alya turned to the porcelain doll which was laying beside her in the bed. She thought of the strange little girl she had just talked to in her dream. Alya smiled.

"Merope" she whispered softly to the toy full of blonde curls.

"I'll call you Merope."