Monday 14 February, 1977. Hogwarts, Owlery.
Alya turned sharply towards James Potter, looking at him with deep suspicion.
He had come out of nowhere, she had neither seen nor heard him coming, as if he had materialised. But Alya knew well that materialising and dematerialising inside Hogwarts was completely impossible.
Perhaps, she had not noticed him simply because she was too absorbed in watching Godric devour his sultana prize.
The boy, meanwhile, stood boldly in front of her, watching her in turn with equally circumspect interest.
It was clear that the Gryffindor's presence in the Owlery had a very specific purpose and that Alya was the main reason for it, but the dishevelled boy seemed to flinch now that he found himself standing in front of the Slytherin, as if afraid of her reactions.
Motionless and inscrutable, Alya stared at him, unexpectedly eager to find out what the young Potter was up to.
"So, Black, it's your fault Godric started picking on Sirius' nose recently," James commented finally, interrupting the heavy silence that was beginning to permeate the small round room.
Trying in vain to conceal a tinge of insecurity in his steps, the unruly brown-haired boy approached the perch on which perched the eagle owl of his own, beautifully saturated with sultana sweets. James shot the bird an amused glance, from which, however, a veiled reproach leaked out, which Godric ignored with haughty disinterest.
Alya continued to stand still and silent, nevertheless not taking her eyes off Potter.
"I do believe he likes you, Black. And that is admirable. Godric is a very selective owl when it comes to friendships." proclaimed James, proudly, as he sank his hands inside the pockets of his school uniform.
"He's just an owl, Potter. And he's not selective, just gluttonous. And spoiled." blurted Alya.
"So you do have a voice!" commented the boy, turning towards her. A smile of victory appeared on her face.
Now that she was close to him, Alya studied his features: thin and only a few centimetres taller than her, James Potter had a thin face with two hazel eyes which glittered with self-confidence and shrewd wit. They were rimmed by round glasses, which rested somewhat crookedly on the boy's nose. The head was covered by dark, wiry hair, which Alya found incredibly funny.
The thin lips seemed determined not to abandon the wry smile that had been rippling over them for minutes.
A strange silence still stretched between the two boys for a couple of seconds.
It was James again who ended it:
"Well... speaking of Godric... I was wondering if you got my Christmas card?" the Gryffindor asked evasively, no doubt alluding to the card in which he had warned her about Sirius' condition.
Alya stiffened instantly.
"Yes, I got it," she replied, in a monotone.
"You never answered me" replied James, revealing a nod of disappointment.
"Well... I had nothing to say." retorted Alya, attempting to raise as much of an icy indifference of defence as she could.
For a moment, her grey eyes rested on the boy's brown ones, which seemed to study her carefully, as if to understand how much truth lay behind that ostentatious detachment. From the sympathetic look the boy gave her immediately afterwards, Alya realised that James understood perfectly well how much, in reality, that postcard had meant to her.
She instinctively lowered her eyes, cashing in on the blow of being found out in her vulnerability.
Another few seconds of pure silence, then Alya asked the question that had been nagging at her ever since Potter had sneaked into Guferia.
"How is he?" she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the stone floor. Then, noticing that the boy was terrified before answering, she lifted her intense, inquisitive gaze from the floor and aimed it at the Gryffindor boy.
James, for his part, turned serious, as if to imply that yes, he understood that in that speech he couldn't afford the luxury of irony. Without saying it out loud, he took pleasure in the question the Slytherin had just asked him. It was the confirmation of something he had hoped for: Alya was worried about Sirius, though she fought with all her might not to let it show.
He took one hand out of his pocket and mechanically adjusted the glasses that hung crookedly on his nose as he chose the most suitable words for the expected answer.
"Sirius is fine. In spite of everything. Of course he's angry. Has been for as long as I've known him, actually. But it's with anger that he deals with suffering. And believe me, your brother is really suffering because of what happened. He has always suffered from the way your family has treated him all these years," James sentenced, in a stern tone, more than he had intended. However, the thought of his perennially mistreated friend by the very people who should have loved him awakened in James a sense of unyielding justice that he could neither contain nor conceal.
The Gryffindor immediately realised that he had just crossed a line that he was not allowed to cross: on hearing the harsh rebuke to his family, Alya's eyes glittered inacerbitally, thinning like silver blades, ready to defend with silent threats the honour of the lineage to which he belonged.
She had asked how Sirius was doing, not judgements on the conduct of her family.
"Anyway, your brother is a tough cookie and I'm sure he'll find a way to fend for himself. For the time being and for as long as he needs to, he can stay at my house." concluded James, picking up the initial threads of the speech.
Alya's face relaxed again, at the Gryffindor's proclaimed loyalty.
"What about your parents?"
"They don't mind having Sirius wandering around the house. They adore him. In fact, I think they prefer him to me." laughed James.
For the first time in that strange and hesitant conversation, Alya sketched the hint of a smile, only to turn hopelessly serious and pensive again.
'Thank you," she murmured hesitantly. She had not been used to giving thanks for the kindness of others. "Thank you for what you and your family are doing for Sirius. It is comforting to know that he is safe."
"Sirius is my best friend," James declared, smiling sincerely. "Besides, I should be the one to thank you."
That last sentence slipped so spontaneously from his lips, he didn't even notice it. He only realised he had spoken too much when he saw Alya's face barely stiffen into a puzzled expression. After all, she couldn't know why he should be grateful to her. James fell silent, hoping his comment would go unnoticed.
Alya, on the other hand, knew exactly what those thoughtlessly spoken words referred to. Her sudden stiffness was the result of confusion: should she have told him that she knew she had saved his life?
They both stood once again in total silence, their breath almost caught, studying each other's reactions.
It was only when Alya ran a hand through her hair, to move an unruly strand of raven hair from her face, that James broke the silence pregnant with embarrassment.
"Interesting that bracelet." he observed, more to find a distraction than out of real interest in the jewel that encircled the girl's slender wrist.
Alya laid her gaze on the serpentine jewel that Nott had given her a few hours earlier, and a shadow of vague disgust fell over her face.
"A gift," she replied laconically.
James' face, too, now seemed to paint itself suddenly with disdain.
"Ah. Right, I forgot - Valentine's Day." he echoed her in a scornful tone. "Of course your boyfriend, he knows how to surprise a girl: giving a silver snake, with green eyes to a Slytherin... what an idea!" commented with acid sarcasm, the Gryffindor.
Alya's jaw soon stiffened again, offence flashed swiftly in her grey eyes. It was especially the word 'boyfriend' that irritated her. The sense of oppression that had seized her in her common room, from which she had escaped after her quarrel with Maynard Nott, was back in her stomach.
And, who knows why, the fact that it was James Potter himself who mocked her for that relationship, which she did not even want, hurt her.
But the Gryffindor was oblivious to the complicated tangle of emotions and thoughts that lurked in the Slytherin's head and rejoiced.
"Tell me something, Black..." continued James, leaning his back against a wall cleared of perches and glaring arrogantly at Alya. "... How is it that you prefer the company of my owl rather than that of your boyfriend?" he asked caustically.
"That is none of your business, Potter!" replied Alya, frostily.
Resolute, she pointed towards the exit of the Owlery.
"It's late. I'm going back to the dungeon. Good night," she said, passing James without a glance.
From behind his back, Alya heard him protest.
"Er, no - wait!"
But she ignored him. Their conversation, strange and unexpected, had lasted even too long for her liking. James Potter, after all, was an arrogant boy, always ready to mock those he didn't consider his equal. Engaging in small talk with him could only prove dangerous, as well as irritating.
Alya descended the steps of the staircase that led her back to the castle with rapid firmness. The Gryffindor, however, didn't seem willing to give up so easily and trotted behind her excitedly down the stairs.
"Look I didn't mean to offend you!" he tried to justify himself. But Alya's muteness had become as impenetrable as hard stone.
"The thing is, I just can't stand that bumptious Maynard Nott."
No reply. Except that Alya began to hurry her pace.
"It's just that... Nott is just a show-off daddy's boy who makes himself look good in front of people's eyes, thanks only to his surname and family money. He's arrogant and conceited. You shouldn't waste your time with him!" gasped James, desperately trying to regain ground.
"If it's the arrogant and full of themselves people you suggest I avoid, Potter, then I shouldn't be wasting my time with you either!" she hissed acidly, turning for a moment to glare at the dishevelled boy who was chasing her. With skittish agility, James took the opportunity to catch up and block her, grabbing her arm.
"Touché. But coming from the snootiest, haughtiest Slytherin in the school, that sounds a bit hypocritical, don't you think?" retorted James, returning to his amused smirk.
"Then you really should leave me alone!" rebuked Alya, angrily, as she tried to wriggle - not with too much effort, however - out of the boy's grasp. He condescendingly let her go, but for some reason, Alya lingered in place.
"I don't intend to, Black! For a Slytherin, you're not so bad after all," James commented, jokingly.
"Oh, your approval honours me, Potter!" Alya mocked him, frostily.
He chuckled at her temperament and her tendency to erect defensive walls of biting sarcasm. Sirius came to James' mind and instinctively his hazel eyes became a little more affectionate.
"And by the way, don't call him my... boyfriend!" pointed out Alya out of the blue, with the same impatience James had overheard from Sirius during the amusing discussion about romantic relationships he had just before at the Gryffindor dormitory. The boy's smile widened even more.
"Yet you've been dating for quite a while," he observed.
"Well, that is... actually, we have... it's just... I'm not sure I see it that way. Not after tonight, for sure." mumbled the girl, visibly confused.
James looked at her strangely. What did she mean by that? Those two had been elected as the best couple among the Slytherins, by the entire school!
Sensing the Gryffindor's doubts, Alya gave him a vague answer.
"We had a fight, just now. That's why I left for Owlery. I wanted to be alone."
James nodded sympathetically, relishing a mysterious sense of triumph that washed over him as soon as Alya confessed to him the relationship problems she was having with that obnoxious Nott.
The two, without realising it and quite naturally, had resumed walking, this time side by side, without anyone having to chase the other. Now, they walked through the wide corridors of the castle, darkened by the night and completely empty.
The echo of their voices and footsteps bounced noisily off the ancient stone of the castle, so the two students instinctively slowed their gait and took to whispering, to muffle the sound of their presence.
James, who yearned to know more about what had led his best friend's sister to quarrel with the guy she was dating, tried to explore the events with a joke, trying not to let out too much curiosity.
"How come you two got into a fight? Is the bracelet too drab for your taste as a noblewoman?"
Alya shrugged, purposely ignoring the jibe about her elitist origins.
"No. I've never been particularly attracted to jewellery. But Nott gave this to me for a very specific purpose. I refused to give him what he wanted and he didn't take it well," the girl confessed, in a bitter voice.
Alya was amazed at the ease with which James was able to wrest the words from her mouth. Usually, she was reluctant to open her mind and heart to people. Even, with Regulus, she would have found it hard to confide certain thoughts.
With James Potter, however, it came naturally to her. This disturbed her. This meant making herself vulnerable, unarmed.
Cursing herself for not keeping quiet, Alya was already preparing to take more snide jokes from the boy about his relationship with Maynard Nott.
Instead, James remained silent, his expression suddenly grim. Alya even had the impression of catching a glint of anger flashing in the Gryffindor's gaze.
"Did he do something to you?" the boy asked, his voice bleak and menacing, immediately sensing Nott's 'very specific purpose'.
"No," replied Alya promptly, dumbfounded at James' sudden change of tone. "He merely insulted me, offended. And anyway, if he had even dared to do anything to me, Potter, he wouldn't have gotten away with it. I know how to defend myself. By myself." she finally added, stating between the lines that she certainly didn't need a valiant knight to defend her honour.
He looked at her without saying anything, merely giving her another of his smirks, this time a little forced. He was still annoyed (by what? Alya wondered), but looked relieved.
They had descended at least a couple of floors in the meantime, and Alya turned around, glaring at James with a suspicious look.
"But isn't the Gryffindor dormitory in that direction?"
"Yes" the boy confirmed.
"Why do you keep following me then? I'm going the other way." replied Alya, brusquely.
"I'm accompanying you to the dungeon, of course," James replied, as if she had just asked him a very stupid question.
The girl frowned.
"Look, it's not like I need the wet nurse!"
"You just can't take a kindness without grumbling, can you?" he taunted her, chuckling. "And, besides, I thought you liked chatting with me," he added, winking playfully.
Alya shook her head, flaunting exasperation. But deep down, she had to admit that she did indeed enjoy that unexpected company. But she dared not ask herself to what extent.
James, meanwhile, resumed his strutting speech, bragging about how he was an expert on Hogwarts and its mysterious confines:
"Besides, this castle has no secrets from me: I know every single shortcut, every secret passage. If you stay with me, you won't risk running into old Filch..."
"Who's there?" a croaky, rancorous voice - much like Kreacher's, Alya thought - thundered suddenly from a dark corner of the third floor, leaving the bold Gryffindor dumbfounded.
"You were saying?" whispered Alya, with scornful sarcasm.
But James did not respond to the barb; on instinct, he grabbed Alya by the arm and dragged her towards the stone wall, flattening himself so as to blend in as much as possible with the darkness that enveloped them. They both gasped as they heard the claudicant footsteps of the old caretaker, Mr Filch, echoing in the main corridor of the third floor, perpendicular to the one where the two students were standing.
"What do we do now?" hissed Alya, in a sour tone.
"Shut up and let me think!" blurted James, brusquely.
Focused and unperturbed by the problematic situation he found himself in, Potter seemed to ponder with a shrewd and quick mind the possible ways out.
He then turned towards Alya, speaking to her in a low, barely audible voice.
"When I beckon you, follow me and run as fast as you can to that entrance over there. Do you see it?" he said, pointing his index finger towards a dark opening, barely visible across the main corridor.
"Are you crazy? Filch will catch us right away! We'd better stay here and wait for him to leave," protested the Slytherin.
"Filch will find us right away if we stay here! He has heard our voices and will now search every hidden corner. That one is as stubborn as a mule and can't wait to dig up some students outside the dormitory, past curfew time."
"Yes, but..." tried to object Alya, not at all convinced.
"Trust me! If you follow my instructions and we get the hell out of here at the right time, we'll be able to lose him."
James spoke with so much confidence that he managed to convince the mistrustful Slytherin.
"I hope for your sake your plan works! If Filch finds us, I swear I'll kill you, Potter!"
"It will be fine, trust me!" replied James, calmly.
"Now, hush." he ordered, then, bringing his index finger to his lips, signalling for silence.
Filch's footsteps had grown closer, the faint light of the lantern the old caretaker held flashed on the walls, swinging.
"Come on now, come out. I know you are hiding here, somewhere," croaked the wrinkled Squib, in a tone of menace.
"Miserable scoundrels. Too good the Headmaster to you, too lenient. If your discipline depended on me... Oh, how many good lashes I would give you..." muttered Filch, as he scrutinised every shady perturbation with asthmatic eyes. Once again, Alya found herself comparing him to her house elf: Kreacher muttered very similar insults when Sirius was around.
At one point, James waved a hand beside her, signalling the go-ahead.
Without a second thought, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin emerged from their hiding place and ran at breakneck speed towards the opening Potter had pointed out earlier.
Without a second thought, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin emerged from their hiding place and ran at breakneck speed towards the opening that Potter had pointed out earlier.
Filch heard them and immediately threw himself into a limping chase, but he was too far away so he was unable to discover the identity of the two escapees. Besides, Alya and James were far more agile and skittish than the claudicant old man, managing to put a good distance between themselves and Mr.Filch.
The two students found themselves walking down a long corridor, lined with imperious gleaming armour, which shone brightly in the white moonlight filtering through the large windows overlooking the passage.
With wide strides Alya and James passed the jamb of an open door of a room, adjacent to the Armoury.
Once inside, the Gryffindor quickly grasped his wand and pointed it at the doorway.
"Ianuam claude!" he uttered in a vigorous voice. The door slammed, closing.
Alya had also drawn her wand and was now illuminating her surroundings with the free end. They were surrounded by myriad crystal display cases, holding all sorts of trophies, of all shapes and sizes: cups, plates, shields, medals... that was without a shadow of a doubt the Hogwarts Trophy Room.
As James made sure the door was properly closed and checked the situation outside, the girl stood admiring the glitter of gold and silver that filled the room.
In one prominent spot, an imposing glass case stood out, in which the awards for services to the school had been arranged, with plaques illustrating the names of the most distinguished and deserving students.
With distracted curiosity, Alya quickly reviewed all the names engraved on the prestigious surface. For a moment, her eyes seemed to be drawn to a specific detail, which made her mind perk up, but a sudden noise distracted her before she had even taken in the information.
James ran towards her, grabbed her arm and pulled her into a dark corner of the room.
"Filch has caught us. He's on his way here," he explained sharply, vaguely concerned.
"Well, you closed the door, didn't you? Filch can't open it without the use of magic, so we're safe."
James shook his head, desolate.
"He can't use magic, but he has the keys to the entire castle. Enchanted keys, of course. Every room is accessible to him." said James, in a gloomy voice.
Alya whitened. Apparently, they were really trapped.
At that moment, they heard the distinct sound of someone fumbling with the lock, which clicked and the door inexorably opened.
The sound of old Filch's limp footsteps soon invaded the room. James and Alya instinctively held their breath and crouched as much as they could against the cold wall, trying to blend into the darkness. It was useless anyway. Filch would find them sooner or later.
Alya cursed herself for listening to Potter and his harebrained plans. It was her fault she was in that situation. And she to be grounded one more time, unfairly, she had no intention of it at all. She had already been through enough that night, of unpleasant things.
Her hand quivered as she gripped the handle of her wand tightly.
Alya looked at James and saw him as tense as a violin string. James' mind was also working as fast as Alya's, searching for a stratagem which would keep them safe.
Meanwhile, Filch prowled the room, scanning, eagerly exploring every dark inch. He would soon arrive in front of the corner where the two students were standing. The footsteps grew closer and closer, the squeaking of the lantern ever more imminent.
When the faint light illuminated their guilty profiles, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin snapped in unison, both with their wands raised.
"Petrificus Totalus!" cried Alya and James at the same instant.
Filch didn't even have time to proclaim his victory when he found himself imprisoned by a motionless body, which fell petrified to the ground, with a dry thud. The lantern rolled to the floor, inches from him.
"Nice one, Black!" congratulated Potter, looking at Alya admiringly. "You're good with spells. At least as good as Sirius!"
"Don't compare me to my stupid brother, Potter!" she blurted, frowning. The boy chuckled, quickly running his hand through his shaggy hair.
Filch, paralysed on the ground, tried to mutter unintelligible expletives, lips tight.
James gave him a vague look of pity.
"We'd better go now," he observed, pressing on.
"Wait! We can't leave things halfway." replied Alya, with cold practicality.
She approached the motionless body of the caretaker and pointed her wand at Filch's crumpled face, who stared at her with hatred.
"Confundo" she whispered in a barely audible voice. Filch's gaze turned from sour to vacant, confirming the effectiveness of the spell.
"What did you do to him?" asked James, a little worried and at the same time admiring. Alya was familiar with spells and could handle them with ease.
"A simple Confundus Charm. To alter his memory. He's seen our faces and I don't like leaving a dangerous witness at large: I don't want the whole school to know who I've spent the night with in the last few hours. I have a reputation to defend," Alya explained, with cruel simplicity.
"Black, I'm touched by your sweetness," James grinned wryly.
"Come on, let's go." he urged her, finally.
The two of them walked swiftly out of the Trophy Room and into the castle dungeon. The young Gryffindor kept his promise to escort Alya to the entrance of the Slytherin common room, despite the girl's constant protests about it.
Fortunately, they encountered no other hindrances on the way.
When they reached a handful of metres from the hidden entrance to the Slytherin area, Alya stopped the pace.
"I can go on alone from here," she announced peremptorily.
"Alright. Well, I thank you for the evening, Black. I must admit it was pleasantly unexpected. An alternative way to spend Valentine's Day." said James, with an oblique, amused smirk plastered on his face.
Alya frowned.
"Speak for yourself! One hour with you, Potter, and I immediately risked expulsion. We must have broken at least half a dozen school rules tonight! Now I understand why Sirius always gets into trouble. It's your fault!"
James grinned louder.
"I can assure you that your brother has a natural gift for trouble. It's one of the reasons he's my best friend!" he proclaimed with laughing pride.
"Besides, it's no use getting angry, Black! I know you had fun tonight, too. I saw your eyes twinkle just now! The thrill of the risk made you feel alive, admit it!" the Gryffindor urged her, scrutinising her with the air of someone who knew better.
A faint smile surfaced on the girl's lips. James was right. Alya had felt strong emotions which had aroused in her a renewed sense of rebellious determination. A lively adrenaline still throbbed in her chest. It was a good feeling after all. She felt free and able to face anything.
Then, James said something that made her heart beat even faster.
"Well, it was nice to share this adventure with you. And I'm glad I got to talk to you tonight. In fact, I've been wanting to for a while." the boy murmured, giving young Black a mysterious look, laden with intensity. The sound of those words made every fibre of her body vibrate, in a way completely unknown to her.
"From that night in the Forbidden Forest?" Alya spoke before she could notice.
She saw James wince, staring at her dumbfounded.
"You know that... How?" he mumbled, not believing his ears. How did she know?
But Alya remained silent, returning the Gryffindor's surprised gaze with boldness.
She moved closer to him, mirroring herself in the bright reflection of his round, slightly crooked glasses.
Their faces were very close now, only a handful of empty inches separated them. Alya could make out the clear golden streaks in James' hazel eyes, as he dived greedily into the silver sea of her gaze. They both seemed to revel in each other's warm breaths.
"I'm glad I saved your life, Potter," Alya whispered, stroking James' lips in a faint voice.
Before he could retort or react in any way, Alya acted on instinct, driven by a fervent and sudden determination that the girl herself did not know she possessed.
She grabbed his face with her hands and kissed him. Intensely and slowly. James greeted the kiss with fervent longing, as if he had been waiting for it all evening, or for all those months he had been searching for her name on the Marauder's Map.
Alya felt James' hand rest on her waist, drawing her to him even more, as the other sank into the girl's raven hair.
Alya felt her face flush, her heart vibrate. An intense, unfamiliar and terribly pleasant thrill ran through every molecule of her being.
Never had she expected to feel such an emotion on the lips of her brother's best friend.
Her brother... in a flash something lit up in Alya's mind that made her wince. It was the image of Sirius, looming over her, menacing and furious, as he screamed at her.
She pushed James away from her.
"Hey, what's the matter with you?" he mumbled, still half dazed by the unexpected kiss and confused at the girl's inexplicable reaction. After all, she was the one who had kissed him.
Alya recoiled, staring at James as if he had suddenly turned into something monstrous and lethal.
"I don't... Sirius... he'll kill me if he finds out..." but the words died in her throat. Alya looked at James again terrified, bringing her hands to her mouth, guilty of a crime she should not allow herself to commit.
James tried to take a step towards her, but Alya quickly fled towards the hidden entrance to her common room, running away, fast and as far away as possible from James Potter, who now appeared more dangerous to her than ever.
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Hi there!
This chapter is one of my favourites, so I'd like to know what you think of it.
Thank you for keep reading this story, it means a lot to me ♡!!