August, 1975. Arcturus Black Estate, Cornwall.

Thanks to the tedious stillness that hovered over the vast territories surrounding Alya's family's imperious summer home, the bitter relations between Sirius and Walburga had also softened. Immersed in the quiet, peaceful countryside, mother and son had found an alternative way to express their mutual contempt. Their angry, insult-filled shouts had given way to a more icy and austere, but at least silent, indifference.

But the complicated relationship between her mother and her twin brother took a back seat during their stay at Arcturus Black's estate, for it was on one of those tedious summer afternoons that Alya met Merope again. It had been a long time since the last time.

Alya was curled up under the large oak tree in the inner courtyard. She was alone, immersed in a boring History of Magic book; a long essay awaited her at the end of the reading. Regulus, more meticulous and organised, had already finished most of his homework and was enjoying an afternoon of leisure, practising Quidditch with his father outside the estate. His intent to beat Potter didn't abandon him even during the summer break.

The sun radiated hotly on everything its rays touched. The extensive foliage, green and lush, sheltered Alya from the sultry heat. It wasn't easy to concentrate on studying on days like those: the song of the insects, the buzzing of the tireless bees that rested from flower to flower around the young Black seemed to intensify with each passing minute, becoming almost deafening. Alya reread the same line on the same page at least five times before grasping the essential concept. Her mind seemed clouded, slowed down. She moved on to the next sentence: the words began to blend together, forming indistinct, meaningless writings. His vision blurred, slowly, gradually. Alya did not even notice. Just as she did not notice that her eyelids had become as heavy as boulders. Without realising it, Alya slipped into a deep sleep. A remote darkness engulfed her like a black velvet glove and her mind was already travelling to distant places, both in time and space. The girl's body lay asleep under the large oak tree in her small garden; her soul, however, lay elsewhere.

As always, a gloomy night hung over her. Alya immediately recognised the unkempt courtyard in which she walked. The uncultivated weeds, never weeded, seemed to have grown since she had last seen them. The battered outline of Merope's old house revealed itself under the light of a pale moon. The corpse of a small snake hung limply, nailed to the wooden door. But it was not the same reptile; the colour of the scales was different. Evidently Morfin, Merope's grotesque brother, must have replaced the poor animal's carcass. It did not take Alya long to spot another figure mingling with the gloomy darkness. Sitting on the ground, wrapped in her usual ragged dressing gown, Merope seemed to be awaiting her arrival.

"You have arrived at last! You don't know how long I've been waiting for you!" exclaimed Merope joyfully in Serpentese, seeing Alya advancing into the night.

"What are you doing outside? If your father finds out --" said Alya worriedly. The memory of the last dream, the cries of pain and despair that spread across the courtyard, came vividly back to her, as if she had experienced them until a moment before.

"No problem, my father and brother are sleeping like babies. With a little help, they won't wake up until tomorrow," Merope reassured her with a simple shrug. Alya gave her a quizzical look.

"I added a special ingredient to their soup tonight: two drops of venom, extracted from the mouth of the snake my brother captured this afternoon. It has powerful soporific properties in the right doses. Deadly if you get the quantity wrong." she explained smugly, nodding to the corpse hanging by the door.

"And you're not afraid they might find out?" asked Alya not a little worried, but without hiding her pride at noticing that streak of audacity in her dream friend.

"Are you kidding? They consider me inept with magic, a Squib. They have no idea how good I am with potions, for example. We have nothing to fear." Merope rose to her feet, shaking off her dressing gown as best she could.

"Now let's go. We have no time to lose." she finally announced, striding briskly towards the gate.

"W-what? And where would you go at this time of night?" protested Alya, incredulous.

"It's a surprise. Follow me!" urged Merope eagerly.

Alya decided to comply, albeit reluctantly. The last time they had gone outside Merope's room, the situation had ended badly.

The two girls silently walked like cats past the small rusty gate that marked the entrance to Merope's property. Side by side they continued along the small path that skirted the garden concealed by the dark blanket of trees. Everything was shrouded in dense darkness, the contours blurred by a light mist rising from the damp earth. Not a soul could be seen and silence reigned oppressive. The only noise was produced by the quick steps of Merope and Alya. The latter couldn't stop casting furtive glances over her shoulder; a gloomy uneasiness had clung to her skin and followed her like a shadow.

"Merope, where are we going?" Alya tried to ask, trying to appear less scared than she really was.

"I told you it's a surprise! You have to wait. Anyway, it's not much further, we're almost there -- This way!" Merope said, suddenly turning right to take an even smaller path. It couldn't even be called a path, the path was barely perceptible, and only thanks to the footprints of those who had passed through it before. Alya swallowed hard, growing increasingly worried, wondering what the heck her strange dream friend's intentions were.

After mowing down a handful of muddy metres, the two girls came to a low gate, encrusted with as much rust as the one at Merope's house. The entrance was marked by two tall stone columns, also eaten away by the decay typical of abandonment. Numerous cracks snaked across the hard, porous surface. Alya looked over the gate and winced when she saw what lay in that desolate place. The fog seemed to vanish like a dreary curtain, revealing the unmistakable outlines of crooked white tombstones. Merope had led her to a cemetery.

"Come on, let's go inside!" urged Merope, with conviction.

"Are you crazy?" retorted Alya, looking at her with eyes widened in disbelief.

"What? You're not afraid of a graveyard?" retorted Merope in a defiant tone.

Stung to the quick, Alya stammered something like:

"No, of course not!" displaying the proud courage of family. She was a Black, she could hardly show fear of anything. She followed her friend through the gate and into the small patch of earth, under which deceased and unknown Muggles slept their eternal rest.

"Is this the surprise? An insignificant Muggle cemetery, forgotten by the world?" asked Alya with contempt.

"No, but there is something I want to show you something that can only be seen from here." replied Merope enigmatically.

They both walked past a pair of chipped gravestones, left to their own devices, as the soft bodies of withered flowers adorning them suggested. It was too dark to read the effigies, but Alya was sure she would find no wizard's names on those graves. To her right, she recognised the outline of a small church, also left in a state of neglect. Alya wondered again why Merope had led her to such a place.

"There! Look over there!" announced Merope, unconsciously responding to her thought. Beaming, she stretched out her bony index finger towards a distant point on the dark horizon.

Alya had to sharpen her eyesight no small amount to notice in the distance the imperious figure of a beautiful old mansion, silhouetted gloriously atop the hill that overlooked the entire village next door.

"It's the Riddle house!" said Merope, anticipating the question that Alya had not yet uttered.

"Riddle -- So that's where the handsome Muggle you've fallen in love with lives," Alya noted in a somewhat harsh tone.

Was it for that futile reason that had brought her to that gloomy graveyard? To observe from afar the insulting house where the Muggle boy she had a crush on lived? For a moment, Alya felt angry with Merope. The whole situation seemed absurd to her, not to say deplorable. A witch of her calibre, risking so much for a worthless scion of a non-magical family. But when she turned her gaze to her friend's stocky face, seeing the glow of a distant desire mixed with an unexpressed hope shining in her crooked eyes, a shiver of compassion shook her. Merope stared as if hypnotised at the sumptuous house that towered on the small mountain before her.

"I've been training," she said in a flat voice. Alya looked at her puzzled.

"At dancing, I mean. Like you taught me the last time you came to see me." she explained, never lowering her eyes from the Riddle house. Out of nowhere, Merope began to sway, uncoordinately swinging her arms and the rest of her body. The dirty, patched robe swayed, following the girl's less than elegant movements. At that moment Merope gave the impression of being a clumsy jellyfish, floating with difficulty in the black waters of a deep ocean.

"Every so often - whenever I manage to sneak out of the house, without my father or brother noticing - I come here at night and admire the beautiful house where Tom Riddle lives. Yes, that's his name, Tom. I heard his father last morning calling him from the carriage. It's a nice name, don't you think?" Merope spoke more to herself than to her friend. She didn't really expect an answer. And Alya listened to her in silence, contemplating with pity the miserable sadness that hovered around her dream friend, who danced with uncertain steps in the night. She had not lied, it was clear she had been practising: now she was no longer tumbling.

"Some evenings the lights in the Riddle house stay on late. I see the lighted windows and mistake them for flames of fatuous fire floating far away. He likes to organise balls, Mr Riddle. He invites important people. For Muggles, at least. If the windows are open and the wind blows in the right direction, I can even hear the music. They almost always play waltzes. Then I start dancing, like you showed me. One, two, three...one, two, three. I close my eyes and, as I dance, I imagine that I am there too. Tom is in front of me, dressed in his best suit. Charming, impeccable. He looks at me and whispers in my ear. He says I am beautiful and that he wants me. He wants me all to himself. That he will take me away, away from here. Away from my brother and my father. Away from this stupid village. Away from all those who despise and mock me. No more insults, no more Cruciatus Curses tearing at my body. It will be just the two of us. And there will be no need for magic either. I would even give up my powers, as long as he loves me."

Merope's words, steeped in sadness, mingled with the cold air in the form of white vapour, which came out of her thin mouth. Merope spoke and danced, confessed to the night, to the gravestones, to Alya. The latter did not have the heart to interrupt the sad soliloquy that had the bitter taste of a wish impossible to fulfil. He merely observed her, in silence. Merope danced with her eyes closed. When she had finished her confession, the heir of Salazar Slytherin sang with her feeble voice the timid notes of an unknown waltz. Alya watched her again. Merope danced and silent tears flowed slowly down her stubby cheekbones.

Then, the contours of the graves, the little church, the Riddle house, even Merope, began to waver, to blur. Around Alya there was nothing but dense darkness, as viscous as ink.

Alya opened her eyes and was awake. The bright light of the sun brought her forcefully back to reality, her reality. All around her there were no more gloomy, abandoned gravestones or withered corpses of flowers. She was back at Arcturus Black's estate, in his inner courtyard. It was day again. Alya was alone, Merope was no longer there. But the feeling that someone was humming an old, unknown waltz was still sharp. Alya realised her cheeks were wet. Merope's tears had become her own.

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A/N:

Hello everyone!
Since the last chapter I published was rather short, I wanted to publish another one right away.

I wrote it quite quickly, so there might be some mistakes. If you notice anything, please let me know.

I hope you enjoy these chapters ♡