23 February, 1977. Hogwarts, Forbidden Forest.

James' hazel eyes jumped in amazement from Alya to the book the girl held in her hands, then back from the book to Alya.

"I can't believe it," exclaimed the Gryffindor in disbelief. "You are the proudest, snootiest pureblood Slytherin I have ever met..."

"Oh, I thank you." mocked Alya, offended.

"What I mean is that you are the most unlikely person... your family is... I mean, what's someone like you doing holding a book like this? It's a Muggle book!" mumbled James, increasingly astonished.

"I've just told you, it's one of my favourite texts. I've been reading it since I was a little girl, before I even entered Hogwarts." explained Alya, with a note of impatience seeping into her voice.

"Yes, but how did you come into possession of it? I highly doubt it was a gift from your 'sweet' parents!" commented Potter bluntly.

"It is indeed a gift!" snorted Alya, brusquely.

James squared her in astonishment.

"Well, not exactly a gift... A sort of," the girl immediately added, clutching her shoulders.

James kept looking at her with a puzzled air. Alya sighed.

"Remember when I told you about how Koboro and I first met?"

"Of course! In the grove near your family's Manor in Cornwall." asserted the Gryffindor confidently, but still unable to guess where the Slytherin intended to go with this.

"Exactly, the same one where Sirius caught me speaking in Parseltongue. You see, Potter, you should know that the story has a sequel. After my brother found out that I can speak with snakes, he freaked out. He insulted me, rejected me. I tried to explain to him that I was doing absolutely nothing wrong, but he wouldn't listen to reason. Sirius pushed me and ran off, as if I had suddenly transformed into some horrifying creature. As I fell, I hit my head violently on the ground and fainted."

"And Sirius just left you there?" indignantly James indignantly, disappointed by his friend's behaviour.

Alya nodded with veiled sadness in her face.

"Well, he was upset to say the least. And disgusted. You can imagine... Honestly, I don't think he noticed my condition when he ran away... or, perhaps, he just didn't care. Either way, it was someone else who came to my aid," Alya explained, before plunging into another tale of her troubled childhood.

Alya told James about what happened after her altercation with Sirius in that distant grove in Cornwall: she told him about the Muggle family who lived nearby and who had taken her in, caring for her head wounds. How they had approached her with free kindness, offering her shelter and delicious food. She even told of the strange encounter with the fake clairvoyant and the double, far-fetched prediction she had made, when she had scanned the grooves of her palms. Alya told how it was Andromeda who had found her and how the latter had warned her not to reveal to a soul who she had been saved by, reminding her that her family would not be able to accept it.

"Before I left that Muggle house, the son of the woman who rescued me wanted to lend me this book at all costs. It was his favourite, fixated as he was on pirates." concluded Alya, wistfully.

"Lent? I thought he gave it to you as a gift?", observed James, curiously.

"I had intended to give it baxk to him the following summer, once I had finished reading it. But it wasn't possible for me."

"Why? What - what happened to that poor Muggle child?" asked Potter, not hiding his apprehension.

"Oh well... my parents caught him and fed him to Kreacher," replied Alya, stung. James winced in horror.

"I'm joking, of course," Alya huffed, rolling her eyes. "He and his mother moved out of the blue and moved to another town, I think. I never heard from them again. I kept the book, though, and kept reading it. Many times, until I learnt it by heart."

"Did you ever try to tell this story to Sirius?" ventured James to ask. Apparently, Alya, like her brother, harboured a vague curiosity about the Muggle world, and James couldn't help but fantasize about how that shared interest could become a rallying point for those two knuckleheaded, proud twins that would allow them to finally mend their troubled relationship.

But the bitter laughter that poured from Alya's mouth quickly brought him back to the complicated reality of the situation.

"Are you kidding? Sirius has definitely stopped taking into consideration what I've been saying for years. He wouldn't listen to me. My brother despises me, Potter, and that's not going to change," the girl ruled adamantly and with a granite expression, as if to imply that she in no way wished to eviscerate the topic further.

We'll see about that, James answered her quietly, without voicing his thoughts, but at the same time scrutinising young Black with dense determination; making peace between those two stubborn twins seemed to have become his personal mission.

But he would have to approach the matter with extreme caution, so he accepted Alya's veiled request not to press the matter any further. For the time being.

He then turned his attention back to the old copy of The Treasure Island which Alya still clutched in her hands; he brushed the title with his thumb, as if to clean it of an invisible layer of dust.

"You are a girl full of surprises, Black. And you can't imagine how much I like that in you!" whispered the Gryffindor, in a sincere tone.

At those words, Alya seemed to relax, abandoning the defensive barrier she had just erected.

"You don't do too badly with twists either," she rephrased him, hinting with a complicit glance at the Marauder's Map.

James smiled at her, as Alya pierced him boldly with her silver gaze. A glint of mischief flashed fleetingly in her grey irises, suggesting to Potter that the time for confessions and small talk had come to an end.

The silence of the night fell like a curtain in the Forbidden Forest, guarding the secret kisses that Gryffindor and Slytherin exchanged for a time that seemed, as always, all too brief.

***

Late February, 1977. Hogwarts.

As Alya had predicted to James, the news of her break-up with Maynard Nott soon became public knowledge.

During the last weekend of that cold and eventful February, the gossip about the betrayal perpetuated by the wealthy scion and the envious Philippa Travers against the algid and impeccable Alya Merope Black exploded explosively in the Slytherin common room.

Few were indifferent to the sordid and scandalous affair (Severus Snape, for example, disdained drawing-room banter with superiority, preferring to invest his time in the study of the Dark Arts).

For two whole days, the castle dungeons were invaded by murmurs and looks full of indignation towards Maynard and Philippa and at the same time filled with compassionate sympathy towards Alya. A compassion that, however, bore little resemblance to the imperturbable and detached attitude displayed by the estimable heiress of the Black lineage.

In spite of the wrong she had suffered, Alya never once indulged in hysterical tantrums or cried in despair at the end of her engagement to the handsome scion of House Nott. Once again, Alya was praised for the unfailingly decorous demeanour with which she coped with the suffering that the situation must undoubtedly have caused her. Or so her fellow Slytherins believed.

No one, in fact, suspected that everything was raging in the maiden except feelings of distress: a sense of lightness, relief and the joy of her secret meetings with James Potter, finally free from the heavy presence of her engagement weighing on her shoulders.

A joy that for obvious reasons she could n't reveal.

Both Maynard and Philippa tried to ask for forgiveness and put right what in Alya's eyes had fallen irretrievably apart.

Alya turned a deaf ear to their worthless justifications, appearing glacial and distant in her adamant refusal. After all, the Blacks were known for their innate pride, impossible to break down.

After several attempts, the determination of both Philippa and Maynard Nott began to wane.
The boy, tired of suffering the silent humiliations of a girl who, although of illustrious origins, was in his eyes nothing more than a frigid, spoilt girl who had dared to reject him, soon gave up his plans to win her back, and went back in search of another noble descendant to make her his fiancée. This time he'd turn his attentions to someone more malleable and Philippa Travers had proved to be an excellent alternative.

Soon, even Philippa surrendered to the evidence that Alya would never, ever give ground, well persuaded to treat her with condescension for the rest of her days. An inevitable mutual indifference then descended between the two companions.

The whole affair had predictable side effects, like the shockwave of an explosion. And it was Alya's little group of friends, always ill-assorted, who suffered the consequences.

With Philippa and Alya barely speaking to each other, it wasn't long before the quartet fell apart. Melyssa, the blonde Slytherin's inseparable childhood friend, didn't think twice before showing complete solidarity with Philippa, distancing herself from Alya, who, however, didn't miss her in the slightest.

The only one who found herself in a difficult position was poor Beth, uncomfortably caught between the two factions, unable to take one side or the other. On the other hand, the raven-haired girl hadn't the slightest intention of breaking relations with either Alya or Philippa.

At the end of February, the frigid winter air still raged mercilessly around Hogwarts; but never as cold as the atmosphere in the girl's dormitory of the four Slytherins, suddenly invaded by a heavy tension, as viscous as oil.

***

Early March, 1977. Hogwarts.

Alya's life underwent changes which, although slight and barely visible to most, were of great impact for the girl.

A significant example was the rift within her little group of friends: although the four Slytherins kept behaving as if nothing was wrong, the balance of their relationship had been irreparably shattered.

Alya, Beth, Melyssa and Philippa insisted on showing up in public together all the time, both in class and at leisure around the castle, as if to show how strong their bond was despite everything. In reality, it was a mere attempt to save the face and honour of their House, the Slytherins, who would less than ever bear the idea of appearing disunited and weak in the eyes of their adversaries.

Someone more observant, however, would surely have sensed the heavy, tension-laden air hovering around Alya's little group, as well as the civilised indifference between her companions, which concealed unspoken disagreements that would never be resolved.

Once safe in the emerald lights of their common room, the quartet fell apart, disintegrated. Behind the stone walls of their dormitory, Alya, Philippa, Melyssa and Beth were free to ignore each other without worrying about the judgement of others.

And in this gloomy atmosphere, time unfurled sluggishly towards the gates of March. Empty and tedious days followed one another, awakening in Alya a vague apathy, shaken only by the secret meetings with James Potter that, once a week, caused her to sneak out of the castle and plunge into the dark depths of the Forbidden Forest.

Alya spent most of her time in the exclusive company of herself and a sense of loneliness soon began to creep into her soul. Not because she missed spending time with her 'friends' - she realised that she could well do without them - but because she had finally realised the inconsistency of the relationships she had hitherto enjoyed.

Ever since she was a young girl, young Black, influenced by the dictates of her mother and father, had been committed to surrounding herself only with people who could benefit her and raise her name. None of her companions could call themselves loyal and sincere friends.

With bitterness, Alya now realised how lucky her brother Sirius was: he could count on a solid and real friendship that went far beyond appearances.

There was a silver lining to that pathetic affair, however: in her loneliness, Alya had grown much closer to Regulus. Not that a real estrangement had ever taken place between the two siblings. Regulus and Alya had always gotten along very well, but their different friendships and various school commitments had forced them to live almost separate lives when they were at Hogwarts.

Regulus, too, was more than happy to share many moments together with his sister; partly because she was a valuable aid in his frenzied study sessions ahead of the upcoming O.W.L., which Alya had already passed with flying colours the previous year, and partly because Regulus wished to be close to his sister, bothered by what had happened lately between her and Maynard Nott.

Soon, however, the younger and alert Black realised how futile his worries were: Alya didn't look upset at all or disheartened by the betrayal she had suffered, nor by the breaking off of her engagement to the handsome scion.

It was a humid Thursday evening and the two Black siblings were comfortably and elegantly relaxing on mahogany chairs near a large window in their common room, which overlooked the depths of Black Lake.

Regulus was concentrating on writing an Astronomy paper, while Alya was losing herself in the fluid movements of the lake's waters, intent on reliving with her memory the happy hours spent with James the night before, in the meanders of the Forbidden Forest.

Having finished the task, Regulus carefully folded the ink-stained parchment, closed the Astronomy book and placed it in his bag. He then shot his sister a look of vague suspicion as he noticed her eyes lingering absently and dreamily over the dark abysses that stretched beyond the great window.

"I have to admit, Alya - I'm really impressed and surprised by the unflappable attitude with which you're handling the situation with Nott and the Travers," burst out Regulus, in a quiet voice.

"What do you mean?" asked Alya, inadvertently reeling from the sweet memories of her secret kisses with Potter.

"I mean I expected a - how shall we say- more fiery reaction from you. After all, Nott betrayed you. And with one of your best friends! But this doesn't seem to faze you at all," Regulus observed doubtfully.

"I'm a noble lady, Reg. And, as such, I must display a controlled and decorous demeanour, even in the most troublesome of situations," replied the girl, giving her brother an oblique grin.

"Maybe - Yet you look a little too carefree." commented Regulus, thoughtfully. "It's not that - are you seeing someone else?" he threw in, innocently.

Alya's blood instantly froze.

"No - er - of course not! By Merlin's beard, Reg, what are you thinking?" she stammered, flaunting indignation.

"I was kidding", chuckled young Black, mischievously. "Anyway, would you tell me? If there were any other guys in your life?"

"Sure", lied Alya shamelessly, as an unpleasant feeling of guilt lapped at her insides. Then again, the maiden was well aware of how unwise it would be to reveal to her brother (to both her brothers, in fact) that she was secretly making out with none other than James Potter. Even if for opposite reasons, both Regulus and Sirius wouldn't let her get away with it, that much was certain.

Better to keep it a secret, Alya declared to herself and to the remorse that kept accusing her of being a lying sister.

"Well then, I'm glad to see you're taking this ridiculous situation well," Regulus concluded proudly.

"And what about you and Zabini?" his sister asked promptly, hastening to divert his attention from his sentimental trysts.

"We took a break. There's the O.W.L. in a few months and all distractions must be avoided." replied Regulus with a shrug, as he slipped the last published copy of the Daily Prophet from his bag.

"A very pragmatic choice." agreed Alya jokingly, partly relieved. She still wasn't sure she liked Cordelia Zabini.

Meanwhile, Regulus had dipped his nose between the pages of the newspaper.

"Still reading that stuff?" his sister taunted him.

"This stuff, as you call it, redneck sister, is called a newspaper and it's for keeping up to date with what's going on in the world outside Hogwarts," Regulus scolded her, with superiority.

"And what's going on in the world?" scoffed Alya, condescendingly.

She leaned over to peek at what her brother was reading with such interest. A shiver of unease ran down her spine.

In the centre of the page, a gloomy photograph towered swinging, depicting a large skull of smoke, floating menacingly in the middle of a leaden sky; from its snarling jaws flowed, like a granguignolous tongue, the outline of a huge evanescent snake.

Below the image, the title roared in large letters:

THE DARK MARK STILL DARKENS THE SKY

"What does it mean?" asked the girl, in a trembling voice, without taking her eyes off the gruesome photograph.

"That there have been other disappearances. Outside London, in West Sussex. Arundel. Amberley. Muggle towns mostly, but with a good wizarding presence." explained Regulus with cold indifference.

Alya was horrified. Who knows why the word 'disappearances' sounded awfully like 'murders' to her.

"And that's the work of the Death Eaters, I suppose. The supporters of You-Know-Who", presumed the girl, in a gloomy voice.

"I should say so", asserted Regulus, in a calm tone.

"It's horrible", muttered Alya, disgusted.

"It's what happens to those who refuse to cooperate with the Dark Lord. To traitors of magic blood. Of our magical blood." the voice of Regulus grew graver, resolute. "The Dark Lord is operating to summon followers and recruits."

"Recruits?" repeated Alya, increasingly livid in the face.

"Yes, Alya, recruits. A war is coming. A war that will decide the fate of our magical world. The Dark Lord advances inexorably. His power increases unstoppably. And the Ministry gropes in the dark. Sooner or later we will all be called upon to choose sides", proclaimed Regulus, with a strange, fiery glow lighting up his grey irises, which hinted at his intentions, his plans. Alya recognised the same exalted look as her cousin Bellatrix. Ruthless and fanatical. As well as a Death Eater.

Another shudder shook her, a clear warning of impending danger.

Regulus, noticing his sister's dismay, put the paper away and grasped her hand.

"Alya, I know what you are thinking. I beg you, don't do anything foolish. Don't be like Sirius. You can't abandon us too", her brother pleaded with her, staring at her with intensity.

"Reg,", Alya tried to object, but the words choked in her throat. Regulus, however, continued undaunted, squeezing her hand harder, almost begging her:

"Dark and difficult times lie ahead of us. And our family must stand together. Remember our motto, Alya: Toujours pur..."

"... toujours uni", Alya concluded, with a thread in her voice.

Alya responded affectionately to Regulus' squeeze, to let him know that no, she had no intention of abandoning him.

However, her other hand, the free one, moved on its own, instinctively, grasping the silver locket her mother had given her and which she always wore around her neck. And Alya's thoughts went irrevocably to Sirius and the front he had chosen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: In this chapter we see how Alya is undergoing a gradual evolution, slowly gaining awareness of her nature and what she really wants (thanks mainly to the positive influence James has on her). But there is still a long way to go.

Here, in the final part, the position taken by the Black family, Regulus above all, becomes more and more evident, and this will put Alya in a very uncomfortable position.

In conclusion, I hope you like the chapter :)

Enjoy your reading ^^!
And thanks for your support ❤!!