15 February, 1977. Hogwarts, Forbidden Forest.

Alya's gaze was caught by the slow, sinuous movements of Koboro's body, which glided placidly over the ground, forming wide circles around her. She watched him blankly, as if hypnotised, even as her mind travelled elsewhere.

She had been hiding all day, crouching on the damp turf of the Forbidden Forest. Night was falling and soon she would have to return to the castle, whether she wanted to or not.

Gracefully, she reached out a hand towards the obsidian-coloured cobra, to caress its smooth, powerful scales.

Koboro could hardly call himself the best advisor to help her unravel the difficult dilemmas of the heart that had been tormenting her for hours. But, at the very least, he could offer objectivity. Devoid of any human emotion (Alya was well aware that snakes couldn't perceive feelings in the same way as humans. She doubted they were even capable of feeling any), the reptile hissed cold, ruthless suggestions, with the only purpose to prevent James Potter from talking about what had happened the night before.

Another positive aspect of confiding in a snake was the total lack of judgement or reproach: Alya had filled the hours with a precise description of the events that had led her to take refuge in the Forest, well filled with all her worries and tragic assumptions about them. Not once did Koboro mock or judge her for her behaviour. Not that it was necessary. Alya knew how to scold herself just fine on her own.

In any case, both girl and reptile had come to the conclusion that leaving the dishevelled young Gryffindor, famous for his eagerness to show off, even to the detriment of others, free to talk to anyone, was quite dangerous for young Black's reputation. There was no guarantee that Sirius' arrogant friend would keep his mouth shut, and to ensure this, action had to be taken as soon as possible.

"You could tamper with the human's memories so he'll forget what happened. After all, you are skilled with Memory Charms. The boy won't be able to reveal something he doesn't remember," suggested Koboro, with the same lucid coldness as an executioner.

The girl sighed, but did not reply.

In every logical respect, Koboro was right and Alya knew it. She wielded those kinds of spells with extreme ease, she would have had no difficulty casting one against Potter. She just needed the right opportunity to proceed quietly, inconspicuously. But Hogwarts offered many hidden corners and it would not have been complicated to lure the boy into some abandoned classroom.

However, her soul hesitated. She would have to erase all memory of James about their meeting and their - Alya was shaken by a tremor at the very thought - kiss. Perhaps, to make sure that Potter no longer interfered with her life, neither with strange looks nor with evening ambushes, she would have to eradicate even the memory of her saving his life, on that now distant full moon night.

A painful knot suddenly froze in her throat.

Was this really what she wanted?

To erase all positive memories of her from James Potter's mind, and then go back to living her life as usual, along with her envious, devious House mates and that pompous, malevolent boyfriend Maynard Nott?

Back to being in the eyes of Gryffindor the usual snobbish Slytherin, Sirius's snooty sister, the one to be avoided because she could talk to snakes and who knows how many other evil and dangerous things... The Alya who had saved his life, who pined for the fate of her twin brother after his escape from home, who ran with rising adrenaline along with James Potter through the castle, escaping from Filch, had to vanish.

Alya's stomach twisted in rejection at that decision.

But Alya recoiled violently, determined to ignore her inner protests.

She was a Slytherin, a descendant of one of Britain's most prominent pureblood lineages; James was a Gryffindor, whose surname had always been disdained by the girl's parents because of the Potter family's sympathies for Muggles.

Alya was the hated sister of Sirius, who had despised her bitterly ever since they were children; on the other hand, James was his best mate and had always been loyal to Sirius, even at the point of death.

The image of their stolen kiss - and with it also the incredible and unexpected feelings it had aroused in her - tried to peep into her head and heart again, but Alya with the haughty severity she had inherited from her mother Walburga nipped that pleasant, but at the same time, threatening memory in the bud.

It had been a mistake, after all, Alya repeated to herself for hours now. A simple rush of adrenalin which she had been unable to control.

James Potter was dangerous and Alya could not make the mistake of trusting him. The slightest misstep and he would not hesitate to ruin her.

With grim resignation, Alya let out another long sigh, turning in a grave voice to Koboro.

"Then it is decided. Tonight, as soon as I return to the castle, I will lure Potter somewhere and erase his memories of us." confessing that troubled decision out loud cost Alya a lot of effort, but she couldn't back down.

An abrupt movement of Koboro interrupted the maiden's tangled thoughts. The snake rose to an alert position, pointing its black, triangular snout towards the depths of the forest. He must have sensed something.

"Someone is approaching," said the reptile with a low hiss.

Alya instinctively rose to her feet, drawing her wand. The girl and the snake stood still and motionless for long seconds, staring at an unspecified point in front of them, expecting to see that someone announced by Koboro appear sooner or later.

"I don't see anybody. Could it be that you were wrong? Maybe it was just the wind..." commented Alya, noticing that nothing had happened yet.

"I'm never wrong, human," Koboro scoffed at her, vaguely offended.

"Then we'd better check," the girl observed, resolute.

Curious to find out what had attracted her slithering friend's attention, Alya abandoned all fear and ventured into the vegetation. With a hiss of protest, Koboro found himself forced to follow her, albeit unwillingly. He positioned himself in front of her, leading her towards the place from where he had perceived the suspicious noise that had alerted him.

Alya retraced the same path she had trod months before, the evening when she had given aid to the injured stag.

For a moment, her heart leapt, but she forced herself not to pay attention. Now was not the time to be thinking about James. In fact, it would be better from now on to get used to the idea of ignoring any thoughts concerning the young Gryffindor.

Not an easy feat, since fate had apparently decided to make a mockery of Alya's inflexible intentions.

After a handful of yards, so terribly familiar, Alya found herself standing in front of the majestic cypress tree again, where she had tended the stag.

Why does everything seem to lead me irretrievably to James Potter? she asked herself in exasperation.

Without giving herself time to find an answer - or, perhaps, she didn't want to find one - Alya began to scour the surroundings in search of traces that might reveal the identity of the creature she had heard Koboro.

She found nothing. Apart from her and the reptile, there seemed to be no one else in that part of the forest.

Still, Alya felt a vague sense of tension. She had the impression that something, or someone, was watching her.

She held her breath and strained her ears to catch even the faintest sound.

Only the murmur of the wind hovered around her. Slowly, her muscles relaxed and she lowered her guard and her wand.

Perhaps, it was just suggestion.

She was about to walk towards Koboro, who was comfortably coiled around a branch of the cypress tree, when a frighteningly familiar voice stopped her.

"Ah. Gotcha, Black!"

Alya spun around, so fast that she almost tumbled over a large root of the towering tree.

James Potter was in front of her, popping up from who-knows-where, squaring her with eyes that glittered with victory from behind his round glasses.

"You again! Where the hell did you come from? How do you always appear like this, out of the blue?" gasped the girl. This time she was sure she didn't see him coming. He had come out of nowhere. How had he done that?

But James evaded the question nonchalantly. The usual amused smirk appeared on his face.

"I'm glad to see you too, Black!" he mocked her, in a joking tone.

Alya kept silent, sporting a firm, inscrutable frown, desperately trying not to let even her gaze betray the vague joy she had felt at hearing the boy's voice calling her.

Their eyes met and, for a moment, silence fell over them both. There were a lot of things they wanted to say to each other and neither of them knew where to begin.

It fell to James to defuse the tension that surrounded them.

"It's amazing how you and Sirius are alike! He has a tendency to run away too, when faced with situations he doesn't know how to handle," the boy commented, with a slight nod of reproach in his voice.

Alya stiffened.

"Stop comparing me and my brother! We're nothing alike. Besides, I'm not running away from anything at all!" she blurted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Oh. So you're just hanging out here for a simple jaunt, I guess," he observed, caustically. "You didn't show up for the whole day and skipped all your classes. Who are you kidding, Black?" James retorted.

"I wasn't feeling well. I got sick," she replied, sustained.

James snorted contemptuously.

"Of course, the sickness of fear!"

"What did you say?" hissed Alya, thinning her eyes into two menacing slits.

How dare that shameless Gryffindor accuse her of being afraid of something?

"You got that right," James reprimanded her, returning her gaze sternly.

"And what do you think I should be afraid of? Let's hear it!" challenged Alya, offended in her pride.

"Well, let me think..." James rested his chin on the thumb and forefinger of his hand, pretending to ponder the question. "... Of me! Or, rather, of what happened between you and me last night."

"Nothing at all happened between you and me last night!" snapped Alya, enraged, denying the evidence.

"A decidedly interesting nothing," he commented, winking mischievously.

Alya advanced towards him, furious.

"Listen here, Potter! Don't get any ideas! What happened yesterday was a mistake, nothing else!"

"A mistake?" echoed James to her, frowning. His face frowned.

"Exactly! A simple lapse in concentration..." continued Alya, undeterred.

The Gryffindor returned to an amused smile.

"A lapse in concentration, Black? I'm flattered. I didn't know you needed concentration to keep from kissing me," he grinned visibly smugly.

Alya's grey eyes dilated with rage. In a second, she drew her wand and pointed it furiously at James' face.

"How dare you taunt me, you stupid Gryffindor?!" she snarled, with a scowl.

James fell silent, but not because he felt intimidated. But out of caution.

Those wrath-laden gestures weren't unfamiliar to him. Even if he had never suffered them on his skin, he had seen Sirius snap in the same way many times against unfortunates who had dared to hurt his pride. Alya was no different, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

With a slight exasperated sigh, James wondered how the two of them couldn't get along, given the complete similarity of their characters. He was on the verge of voicing that thought, but bit his tongue. Remarking on how similar she was to her twin would only annoy Alya even more.

If he didn't want her to leave again, James agreed that he had to find another strategy and put down the hatchet.

In the meantime, Alya continued to stare at him in tralice, her wand raised against him. Koboro, still wrapped around the large branch of the cypress tree, was urging her to perform the agreed spell.

"Come on, it's time. Cast the spell and erase the human's memory."

But the girl hesitated. Both her hand and wrist seemed stuck, unable to perform the memory bill. Yet it would have made her life easier. But she did nothing. Alya simply stood there, motionless in her position.

Taking advantage of the moment, Potter meanwhile tried to move forward a step, his expression suddenly serious.

"I'm not here to make fun of you. I mean it. I just want to - to talk to you." he said, in a conciliatory tone, with a slight tinge of pleading.

"We have nothing to talk about, Potter!" ranted young Black, though without realising it he had lowered his wand. Still wary, however, she stepped back.

"Yes, we do. You cannot deny it. What happened yesterday, between us, you can't call it nothing!" insisted James, firmly. Alya opened her mouth to retort, but the boy gave her no time.

"If you think you're the only one feeling confused, well you're wrong! I too spend all my time lately brooding over what happened, first in the Forbidden Forest, then last night. I try hard to understand it. It's all so strange and unexpected. Until a few months ago, you were nothing more to me than one of the many Slytherin girls, snobbish and grimacing. Yet now, you look so... It's all so... I mean, I'm trying to figure you out."

"And why?" urged Alya, as her heart had taken to pawing in her chest. Why was Potter so curious about her? Was it because she had saved his life? Or was there more to it than that?

James sighed, before turning his hazel eyes on her, staring at her with such determination and intensity that she winced.

"Because I like you, Black! In a way I still can't explain to myself either. You are surely the most unlikely person to confess such a thing to, but I cannot ignore it. That's how it is. I can't help it. I like you. And I have no intention of staying away from you."

Alya fell silent, rigid as a spindle, paralysed by the whirlwind of emotions raging inside her. At James Potter's words, the girl felt herself falter, as if something in her had shattered beyond repair. Her heart continued to beat wildly.

Frightened by this feeling, Alya tried to put the pieces of her cold, detached confidence back together. James was teasing her, it couldn't be otherwise. A well-conceived little game to make her look stupid.

"I'm not falling for it, Potter!" she roared, almost shrieking. "What's the catch?"

James glowered at her in amazement and indignation at the same time.

"There is no catch! I swear!" he shouted back, gesturing to approach the maiden.

But Alya acted like a frightened, hunted animal. She turned quickly and began to run, in the direction of the castle.

However, James immediately sprinted in pursuit. He wasn't going to let her run away, get away. Not this time. He ran after Alya with great strides, keeping his eyes on the girl's sinuous figure as she wandered through the forest vegetation.

Alya was running fast and the Gryffindor had to strain to keep up with her. Within seconds, they both reached a clearing - the same clearing where the young Black used to meet with Koboro and where she had ambushed Peter Pettigrew - and it was there that James was seized with an intuition.

Alya was leaving him behind and the boy acted on impulse. One last attempt to stop her.

The wand flashed swiftly between James' fingers, and he uttered loudly:

"Expecto Patronum!"

A dense stream of light gushed from the end of the wand, growing larger and larger, until it took the form of a large silver animal, which galloped after the fleeing girl.

The ethereal figure gained ground in the twinkling of an eye and placed itself in front of the young Black, barring her passage.

But there was no need: as soon as she saw the silvery animal, Alya stopped, her eyes full of disbelief.

A stag. In front of her stood an imperious, mighty stag, adorned with a majestic antler box.

Alya gasped, her heart beating fiercely in her chest.

She heard James approaching behind her with confident, but still cautious steps. The girl turned slowly and aimed her gaze, as silvery as the summoned animal next to her, at the face of the young Gryffindor who was now only a couple of metres away.

"This is your Patronus?" murmured Alya in a faint, trembling voice. She still could hardly believe it. James Potter could invoke a Patronus identical to hers.

James Potter nodded gravely, proceeding cautiously another couple of steps.

"Did you see that? You don't need to run away. You can trust me," he whispered, sketching a gentle smile.

James squared her with such determination in his eyes that Alya felt herself flaming. She could do nothing but return him with equal intensity.

Any urge to run away and escape from the Gryffindor was suddenly gone.

The Slytherin didn't move a step when she saw Potter still advancing towards her. She did not retreat when she felt his hands gently grasp her face and drag him slowly towards her. The boy's breath was warm and Alya could feel it clearly on her skin as it tickled her cheeks, which had now turned pink.

Alya's grey eyes stared insistently into Potter's hazel ones, with quivering anticipation that suggested a warm invitation, which the Gryffindor readily accepted.

This time it was James who kissed her. His lips moved securely, settling on Alya's, savouring them with growing desire.

Like doors to a forbidden temple, the two students' mouths opened, their tongues meeting. Fire blazed in both their bodies. In that kiss, Alya and James explored each other, at first cautiously, then with increasing boldness. The defences, the prejudices, the masks they had hitherto erected dissolved in the air.

James' arms left her face; one encircled her waist, holding her firmly, the other ran down her back, drawing her tightly to him.

Alya reacted ready to that contact; her mouth moved with even more passion as her hands crept into his shaggy hair.

They both abandoned themselves in each other's grasp.

Alya felt unexpectedly safe, but at the same time, terribly fragile. However, she knew that she would never want to escape from the arms of that cheeky, dishevelled Gryffindor again.

James and Alya kissed for a long time, not at all willing to part; concealed by the twisted intricacies of the Forbidden Forest's trees and heedless of the impending night, James and Alya's lips continued to seek each other out, to taste each other insatiably, illuminated only by the faint light of James's stag, which, like a silent witness, still shone silvery light beside them.