The Tree of Blacks (English version)

Flying Lesson

There was more he wanted to tell her.

"But that's not the only reason I didn't say anything about Snape..." he muttered with a very serious expression.

Alya looked at him troubled.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the incident in December?"

"How could I forget?" she rephrased him, in a bitter voice.

"Didn't you ever wonder how I escaped the clutches of a werewolf thirsty for human blood?"

"Well, I guess you fought..." muttered Alya, confused. She scrambled through her memories regarding the vision she had had at Christmas, when she had dreamt of the fight between James and the werewolf... in fact, there were no images to explain how he had managed to escape. The vision had stopped at the exact moment Lupin had pounced on his friend, only to resume much later, when Potter had already entered the Forbidden Forest. As if someone had suddenly turned off the power. Everything had gone dark and Alya had seen nothing.

"I had lost my wand and was groping in total darkness. I think I even lost consciousness... my memories are very confused and fragmented... But one thing I'm sure of: I was a goner." commented James, with a smile that was completely devoid of mirth.

"Then how...?" murmured Alya, as she pondered possible options. "You don't think it was Snape who helped you, do you?" she blurted out suddenly, staring at the Gryffindor with wide, incredulous eyes.

"It's the only plausible explanation. Snape was the only one around. Perhaps, he was seized with remorse... Or he was simply frightened. Either way, he must have sneaked up on Remus, thus giving me a chance to save myself." said James, thoughtful, as if he himself was struggling to believe his own words.

Alya's gaze wandered absently over the thick vegetation that surrounded them; absurd as it seemed, Potter's hypothesis was the only plausible one. Without outside intervention, it would have been highly unlikely, not to say impossible, that the boy would have made it out of the Shrieking Shack alive and, more importantly, from the jaws of a ravenous werewolf.

"Well, even if he had helped you escape that night, it makes no difference. Snape is a devious, revolting being, capable only of holding a grudge against those he envies! Especially you", Alya exclaimed heatedly.

"Well, over the years I've given him plenty of reasons to hate me..." admitted James, guiltily.

"Snape hates you because you represent everything he wants to be. But who he will never be. And he knows that perfectly well, but he can't accept it. Besides, it was Sirius who instigated him to sneak into the Shrieking Shack that night, not you. So stop blaming yourself! You already saved his life once. You owe him nothing more!" Alya spoke with such fervour that it made the dishevelled Gryffindor flare up. As always happened to him when he felt nervous or excited, James tousled his hair in an excited gesture. James was aware of the misdeeds he had done against Snape and he was still ashamed of them, but realising the sincere esteem that Alya held for him filled him with pride.

Shaking off the last crumbs of blame and self-pity, James hugged Alya and squeezed her tightly, yearning for her lips, eager to press his mouth against the maiden's.

Alya and James kissed long and hard, until they were both breathless.

When with difficulty their lips parted, the Gryffindor looked at her and smiled.

"Sunday, after curfew has been triggered, be found outside the castle, on the west side of the Black Lake," he ordered her peremptorily, with a strange sparkle in his eyes.