15 February, 1977. Hogwarts, Slytherin dungeon.
For the first time in all their years at Hogwarts, Philippa, Melyssa and Beth got out of their beds before Alya. When they woke up, they always had found Alya's bed uncluttered, while the girl was already waiting for them downstairs in the common room, bright and early.
But that Tuesday morning was different. The green and silver curtains were still drawn, closed. Incredibly, Alya hadn't yet woken up.
The three girls tried to call her, hesitant and a little puzzled. No answer.
They changed and put on their school uniforms; by now they were ready to go to the Great Hall, but Alya insisted on staying in bed, silent.
Beth approached the drawn curtains.
"Are you all right, Alya?" she asked, apprehensive. Her friend's behaviour was definitely strange.
This time the girl decided to dignify her friend with an answer.
"No, I feel terrible. I think I caught an illness." she muttered in a hoarse voice, remaining concealed behind the curtains.
The other three squinted and gave each other incredulous looks. In six years, they had never seen Alya sick. She had always enjoyed excellent health. That was something new.
"Go to class without me and warn the professors that I won't be showing up today," Alya insisted in an authoritative tone.
"Perhaps, you should be seen by Madame Pomfrey. I'll come with you, if you want." offered, Beth, genuinely concerned about her friend's condition. Philippa and Melyssa didn't join in the proposal. They remained mute, their arms folded.
"No, at most I'll go later. By myself. I wouldn't want to attach anything to you," replied Alya promptly.
Philippa began to drum a foot on the ground, as a sign of impatience.
"Come on, Elizabeth. Alya can manage without us. Today we have an important Potions lesson ahead of us. Slughorn is showing us a new potion and we can't miss it." muttered the blonde girl, with Melyssa nodding at her side.
Beth looked at her confused, undecided whether to abandon Alya and join the other two or stay to look after her sick companion.
It was Alya who got her out of the way.
"Philippa is right, Beth. You would be falling behind in the arguments. Go and don't worry about me," she urged her, insistent.
With a resigned sigh, Beth reluctantly agreed.
"I'll pass you all the notes," she added before walking out, to soothe the guilt.
Philippa and Melyssa dragged her out of the room, finally making their way to the main hall for breakfast.
Alya remained alone, only with her own thoughts.
She had lied. She didn't feel unwell, it had been a lie made up on the spot, to throw her mates off. That her head ached, however, was true.
She had spent the whole night pining over the memory of what she had done the night before. With James Potter.
What the hell I was thinking? she kept repeating to herself.
Alya had kissed him. She had kissed James Potter. Even she couldn't explain why on earth she had acted that way. Not with a cool mind, at least. Part of her was desperately trying to keep quiet about the truth behind that impulsive and rash gesture.
Every time she tortured herself, thinking back to the meeting that took place between her lips and those of the Gryffindor, to their entangled breaths, to his hands holding her, to the unsuspected scent of goodness that the boy exuded, her heart began to beat wildly.
But she couldn't allow herself to have such feelings. James Potter was a Gryffindor, an arrogant, totally full of himself, who had always detested Slytherins, including her. Moreover, he was best friends with Sirius, who already despised her openly and beyond measure. And James had always been on his brother's side. Alya couldn't afford the luxury of trust.
She had made a terrible mistake.
Now her reputation was hanging by a thread. Or, at worst, it was already irretrievably ruined.
If Potter had spoken, revealing the events of last night, she would have become the laughing stock of the school. Such unheard-of, juicy gossip would surely have been greeted by all Hogwarts students with extreme enthusiasm.
Therefore, Alya wanted to stay hidden in her bed all day, sinking under the heavy blankets together with her shame.
She didn't have the courage to face the inevitable. Going to the Great Hall and find herself in the midst of thousands of eyes, ready to judge and denigrate her was too much for her pride.
She could already imagine Regulus' incredulous, disappointment-filled stares. He hated Potter. How would he have reacted if he had discovered that his beloved and honourable sister had kissed James Potter in a fit of mad adrenaline?
Not to mention Sirius... his reaction was the one she feared most of all.
Besides, Alya was also tormented by the memory of the quarrel with Maynard Nott was added. The icing on the cake in that whole absurd situation.
If word had spread that she had refused to give herself to her rightful boyfriend and one of the most popular pureblood scions in the whole House of Slytherin, only to glue herself a minute later to the lips of a Gryffindor, considered by her comrades to be a traitor to the magical race, there would have been nothing left for Alya and her standing. Her reputation as a noble heir to the prestigious Black lineage would fall into the abyss of infamy.
Who knows, perhaps her parents would have disowned her and banished her from the family, just as they had done with Sirius, if they had known what their beloved daughter had done with Potter.
Trapped in the most tragic hypotheses, Alya spent almost two hours in the dormitory room, with only the lapping waters of the Black Lake to keep her company.
She had to find a solution to stop Potter from spilling the beans, and quickly. Or, at the very least, try to make it unbelievable to the ears of others.
Only when her stomach erupted in a thunderous gasp of protest did the girl realise she was starving. She could not reason with an empty belly, so she decided to leave her warm hiding place, albeit reluctantly.
She took off the pyjamas she still had on and quickly slipped into her school uniform. Cautiously she exited the room, almost on tiptoe, as if not to be heard. As she stealthily descended the mahogany staircase that led to the common room, she cast a quick glance at the black snake-shaped hands of the wall clock: it was well into the morning and all the students and teachers were busy in class. With any luck, she wouldn't run into anyone.
First, she had to go through the kitchens, which were located in the castle dungeons, to snatch something (she had found out how to access them during her second year and had already been there a few times); after that, she would run to the only place where she could reason in peace and find useful advice. The Forbidden Forest, at Koboro's.
***
15 February, 1977. Hogwarts, Potions classroom.
"I wonder what Slughorn is planning to dish out today?" murmured Sirius in James' ear, looking vaguely bored. His friend shrugged, indifferent.
"Today's lesson will be about a very difficult potion, but he didn't mention anything last time. I think he wants it to be a surprise," Remus explained, curious.
"The old walrus likes to be theatrical," sniggered James caustically. Peter squeaked in hushed laughter.
In fact, Potions class was quite different than usual that day. Instead of seating the students at their desks, Professor Slughorn had asked them to arrange themselves in a semicircle around the wooden table used as a desk, in the centre of which was placed a large cauldron, the lid of which didn't allow a view of what was inside.
The whole class was somewhat puzzled and both Slytherins and Gryffindors students exchanged quizzical glances at each other.
"Well, guys! You must be wondering what I'm hiding inside this old cauldron!" the teacher exclaimed, strutting around in his sumptuous waistcoat and smugly waving his thick moustache.
The eyes of all the students turned in unison first to Professor Slughorn, then to the cauldron.
Assured that he had won the attention and curiosity of all the students, Slughorn rubbed his hands impatiently.
"Alas, I cannot reveal it to you yet. Indeed, today's first exercise will consist of guessing what lurks in the depths of the cauldron."
The gazes of the pupils became more and more interested. The teacher's jovial face widened into an even more satisfied smile. He approached the cauldron and placed his hand on the lid.
"Everyone step forward. That's it, good. No, not that far ahead, Miss Bulstrode! There will be no need to see. Only your nostrils will be needed. Right, the first one of you to name the potion in here correctly will earn fifty points for their House! Are you ready? Open your noses!" Professor Slughorn encouraged them in a beaming voice, before uncovering the cauldron, thus giving the fumes of the secret liquid the freedom to invade the entire chamber.
Within seconds, an intense sense of bliss began to waft through the room. Everyone present showed relaxed and rapt expressions, inhaling the air around them with greedy puffs.
James felt his own head suddenly light, as if emptied of all thought. It seemed that only one purpose had become important to him: the search for a pleasure that only the aroma emanating from the cauldron would be able to give him. Nothing mattered to him now. He leaned forward, trying to satiate his hungry nostrils.
Through his nose, every cell of the boy's body reveled in a mixture of mysterious aromas that had the flavour of his childhood, but also the aftertaste of something recent and unexpected. James perceived the scent which perennially hovered in the kitchen of his mother, Euphemia Potter; he also recognised the wood of an old broomstick. Of the first broomstick his father had given him as a child, to be precise. Then, a new, but at the same time familiar and seductive fragrance peeped out, which the boy's nostrils desperately wanted to inebriate themselves with. It was the scent of lavender flowers, which James recalled having inhaled with pleasure from Alya's raven hair and her snow-white skin the night before.
A strange warmth, which had nothing to do with the flames beneath the cauldron, flared up in James' body and he almost obeyed the impulse to leap forward and plunge into the prodigious liquid inside the pot-bellied cauldron.
It was at that moment that Slughorn decided to end the exercise, quickly putting the lid back in place.
In an instant, the ardent spirits subsided; the students all shared the same bewildered, even slightly contrite face, as if someone had just woken them abruptly from a beautiful dream.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" announced the professor gallantly, stowing an elegant bottle-green silk handkerchief in his waistcoat pocket, with which he had protected his nose from the devastating effects of the potion he showed.
"So, have any of you guessed the name of the potion?" he asked, scanning the faces of the few students who had raised their hands.
"Evans." he called, unfailingly.
"It's definitely Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world," she replied, confidently. She sported a discreet demeanour as always, but her cheeks seemed to show a vague blush, usually absent.
"That's right, Miss Evans! Fifty points to Gryffindor." the professor announced enthusiastically. A smirk appeared on the dark red-haired girl's face, while a buzz of disapproval rose from the Slytherin students.
Slughorn began the lesson by carefully explaining the effects of the potion, describing its characteristics and the intricacies of its preparation.
"Right, take your places in front of your cauldrons. In the remaining time you will focus on the preparation of the Amortentia. Come on, cheer up. Get out your books. In chapter five you will find the list of ingredients and the instructions to follow," the lecturer incited them, clapping his hands.
Sirius and James positioned themselves at the same table, with Remus and Peter not far behind them.
"So, what do we need?" asked Sirius, as James reluctantly flipped through his volume of Advanced Potions.
"Ashwinder eggs, pearl dust, rose petals and rose thorns, peppermint and powdered moonstone."
Sirius nodded and went to get the ingredients. He returned after less than a minute, arranging the various glass flasks on the counter.
"Tell me Prongs, with what scent did the Amortentia upset your soul?" asked Sirius, then, with a mischievous air.
"Broomsticks and my mother's delicacies," replied James, evasively.
"And the sweet scent of Evans, I might add." chuckled Sirius, tousling his friend's hair affectionately.
No, it was your sister's perfume! would James have liked to correct him, but he had to bite his tongue to avoid voicing his sinful thoughts. Sighing contritely, he merely glared at his friend, while he continued to snigger under his moustache, with the air of someone who knew better.
Instinctively, the dishevelled young Gryffindor cast a quick glance at the table usually occupied by Alya and saw it empty. He frowned even more.
She hadn't been seen all day, not even at breakfast. At the start of class, James had overheard Alya's insufferable blonde friend, Philippa Travers, explaining to Slughorn that her companion had been feeling unwell that morning and wouldn't be showing up for class.
But James guessed at once that this was an outright lie. Alya was perfectly fine, he was more than sure.
What a coward! Just like her twin brother! cursed James inwardly, angrily. Apparently, it was a Black habit to run away from situations that threatened to confront them with their complicated feelings. Sirius had run away from home and categorically refused to discuss the subject; Alya had kissed James out of the blue and was now hiding because she was afraid to face both the boy and the consequences of her act.
The Blacks are all the same! ranted James again, silently venting all his frustration on an unfortunate peppermint leaf, shredding it with agitated violence.
The young Gryffindor, however, was forced to keep his bad moods to himself; he tried to dissimulate them, displaying his usual cocky bravado for the rest of the day.
After Potions, more classes followed: Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. However, no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to the professors' explanations, James was often distracted by the memory of the kiss he had received the night before, clouding his mind; during Care of Magical Creatures he nearly got stung by a Bloody Scorpion (a scorpion which, instead of injecting poison, sucks blood from its victim through its tail stinger to feed on its energy).
Dinner time arrived and James was happy to make his way to the Great Hall. Perhaps, Alya had finally made up her mind to face the world.
But the boy's hopes were instantly extinguished as soon as he took his seat at the Gryffindor table. He quickly studied the Slytherin area with his eyes: of the beautiful and cowardly Black there was no sign.
For the umpteenth time that day, James seethed. He was quivering with the desire to meet the girl, to talk to her... but it seemed taht Alya wasn't of the same opinion, since she refused to dignify Hogwarts with her presence.
With a brusque gesture, James stabbed a steak with his fork and began to pounce on it, voraciously.
"Tonight we could perfect the Map, what do you say?" he proposed in a whisper to his friends. He needed a diversion, and concentrating on spells to make the Marauder's Map more effective seemed like a good distraction. He, Sirius, Remus and Peter had always had a lot of fun both during the creation of the enchanted scroll and in its elaboration.
Peter made to clap his hands in assent, squeaking enthusiastically, but Lupin silenced him at once.
"We'll pass, Prongs. Wormtail has fallen behind on Transfiguration essays, and if we don't want McGonagall to ground him for life, I'd better help him catch up tonight. It's going to be a very long night," he explained thoughtfully and somewhat desultorily.
James shook his head, exasperated, but at the same time sympathetic.
"Moony, do you want to be elected the best prefect of the year?" he asked him sarcastically.
"The most generous werewolf in history!" echoed Sirius, bursting into a very bark-like laugh.
"Don't say that word here..." implored Lupin, looking around apprehensively.
"No one's looking out for us, Moony!" Sirius reassured him, with a shrug.
"Well, Padfoot, looks like we'll just have to fend for ourselves," James sighed, feigning disappointment.
"Unfortunately, I too must decline the offer," said Sirius, bitterly.
His best friend squared him frowning.
"Why, what are you to do?"
"Slughorn invited me to one of his stupid nights. After dinner I have to run straight to the dungeon."
"And since when do you attend walrus parties?" asked James, annoyed. Everyone seemed to want to avoid him that day.
"Since the Headmaster threatened to expel me before Christmas. Gaining the teachers' favour will help improve my position at school. He may be pompous, but the old walrus can wield influence. Besides, he has very good connections, even outside Hogwarts," Sirius replied, his voice flat. It was clear that the idea of spending his precious time with Slughorn and his other favourite students (including Regulus) didn't excite him at all.
"Then, you should go too," Remus suggested, turning to James.
"I wasn't invited." he cut him short.
"Why? All Slughorn did last year was chase you around."
"Yes, but that's only because my father invented the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion..."
"Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, two drops tame even the most messy mop of hair." decanted Sirius, imitating the squeaky tone of a street vendor. "Except yours, Prongs. You're hopeless!" laughed young Black loudly, giving his friend's hair an affectionate brush.
"Try that, again, Padfoot, and I'll slap you down!" threatened James, enraged.
"How touchy we are!" mocked Sirius, amused.
James ignored him.
"Anyway, I wasn't invited because Slughorn banned me from his meetings, due to a little incident."
"A little incident?" repeated Lupin doubtfully, arching an eyebrow.
"The old walrus didn't like Prongs' attempt to poison Rosier during one of his dungeon dinners," chuckled Sirius, who seemed to recall the event with obvious nostalgia.
"It was a simple academic experiment. But old Slughorn decided to ban me from his meetings anyway. For life. Not that I mind," James pointed out with an oblique smirk on his face.
Remus shook his head, stifling a giggle despite himself.
Once dinner was over, Sirius made his way to Slughorn's sumptuous office as announced, joining the other invited students, including Lily Evans.
James, Remus and Peter, on the other hand, returned to Gryffindor Tower.
The shaggy-haired boy left his two friends in the common room to face McGonagall's fearsome tasks, heading straight for the dormitory.
The bad mood had not gone away and he needed to be quiet. Taking advantage of the loneliness, he stretched himself badly on the bed and pulled out the Marauder's Map and began to study it absent-mindedly, to correct any defects.
However, without even realising it, his hazel eyes were immediately searching for a name.
And there it was. James saw Alya Merope Black's name floating alone in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.
So that's where you've been hiding!
The Gryffindor's inner voice exulted triumphantly. He leapt to his feet again, armed himself with the Invisibility Cloak, carefully hiding it inside his bag, and rushed out of the room.
"Where are you going, James?" Remus asked puzzled, seeing his friend heading for the Fat Lady's portrait hole.
"I forgot something in the Great Hall. I'll be quick." lied James, as an adrenaline-filled determination rumbled through his chest.
At that moment, he had only one goal in mind.
Alya Merope Black, I won't let you get away this time!