The Tree of Blacks (English version)

Moonglow

November, 1976. Hogwarts.

Autumn was slowly giving way to winter, which was already knocking at the gates of Hogwarts with its mighty fists of ice and cold. The days grew shorter and darker, the air stung like the icy blade of a knife. Sunny days became rare and pouring rain pelted the castle's wide windows with assiduous insistence.

It was a grey morning of a placid Sunday. Alya woke up early, as was her habit, although there was no class that day. She got ready quickly, careful not to make any noise, so as not to disturb her roommates' sleep. She reached the Great Hall, immense and majestic, which was almost completely empty and, for that reason, all the more spacious and solemn. There was no one at the Slytherin table: Alya was the first to invade that corner of the room. She rejoiced. Those were the moments which beckoned Alya to wake up early in the morning, even on feast days or days without classes; she longed to immerse herself in that silent morning solitude, when everything was still asleep and the day struggled to get going. The world looked suspended, as in a dream, floating in an indefinite limbo between reality and illusion.

Alya sat at the Slytherin table, set with silver plates and crystal goblets, ready to enjoy a hearty breakfast.

After a few minutes, she saw Regulus enter the Great Hall. Alya was surprised. Unlike her, a morning person since childhood, her brother used to sleep late.

" 'Morning.'" he mumbled in a slurred voice, his eyes still stricken with sleep. He clutched one of the goblets and took long sips of juice.

"Good morning sunshine! What got you out of bed?" his sister teased him.

"Quidditch. Extra training." Regulus muttered, pointing to the green uniform he was wearing.

"Again?" mocked Alya, a little indignant. It was the fourth day in a row that her brother had been called to training camp. The situation was becoming exasperating.

"We need to devise an unbeatable strategy ahead of the next match -"

" - which will take place in January. That is two months from now! Doesn't it seem exaggerated to practice so much already now?"

"The match is against Gryffindor. We have to be prepared."

"Sounds ridiculous to me," observed Alya, shaking her head.

"Look it's your boyfriend's fault Nott won't give us a break," protested Regulus, shooting, however, a mischievous glance at his sister. "Be honest. You're annoyed because your Maynard Nott can't spend time with you!" chuckled his brother, curling his lips into a kiss.

"Don't talk nonsense!" fumed Alya, "Nott is free to do all the training he wants! It's this insulting fixation on Quidditch that annoys me. Is it possible that there is nothing else in the heads of you, boys?"

"I assure you there is in Nott's. He occasionally lets slip certain, how shall I say - inappropriate comments!" chuckled Regulus again.

"Will you knock it off!" shouted Alya at him. She grabbed an apple from the basket in front of her and threw it at her brother, who was still laughing. The latter caught it with quick reflexes and took a crisp bite of the scarlet fruit.

"And by the way, Nott is not my boyfriend. We've been dating for just under a month and the times we've gone out together can be counted on the fingers of one hand," Alya pointed out, annoyed.

"You snog, though. And a lot, judging by what your non-boyfriend says," Regulus scoffed, laughing under his breath. Alya glared at him, frowning.

"You don't have to justify yourself, I'm happy for you. And you'll see how happy our parents will be when they hear about this. The Notts are a rather prestigious family," the boy asserted in a practical tone.