ALINAC || JAMES POTTER

Prologue: The beginning...

"You're what?!"

Leila Alinac took a deep, shaking breath to recompose herself. Her outburst had began to attract the attention of those around her in the Slytherin common room, which she could not afford. Taking a slow step towards the fearful 4th year girl, she repeated herself.

"I would like you to say that again. Slowly." She bit out, tilting her head ever so slightly to the right.

"I...I can't play anymore. I broke at least three fingers in quidditch.... it's going to take a while.. I..."

The girl, who had been playing the piano in their band for nearly a year now, trembled at the look in Leila's eye. Before Leila could get another word in, most likely a threat, she raced out of the common room not daring to look back. Blinking slowly at the space, where her pianist once occupied, she turned and crumbled onto the sofa.

"Well.. guess we're not playing at the party tomorrow then" Meredith bones chimed in. Friends since first year, it was well known that Meredith was the balance in Leila's life. Both her and her Ravenclaw twin Amelia, provide the essential elements of comfort and normality to which has cemented their bond forever. Leila didn't respond, reaching for her old leather notebook she kept in the pocket of her robes.

"It's fine, I'll find something to get her back." She shrugged, flicking through the pages consumed by frantic writing.

"Ahhh the old torturers notes. I'm still not quite sure how you gathered all that material. Are you human? Is there a tiny dark wizard hiding in there?" Meredith laughed jabbing her finger onto Leila's forehead, causing Leila to shove her off the sofa.

Trying to pretend like that was purposeful, she coughed and went back to reading some of the sheet music she had written for their performance the following night. The book in reference, was Leila's secret weapon - an eclectic mix of rumours, awkward encounters, secret beautifying spells and broom closet visits which she had gathered on her classmates. Being the heir to the Alinac dynasty, eyes were always on her. Little did they know, she was staring right back.

"I have my sources, and no, I'm not telling you them." She slammed the book shut, running a hand over her face. "She's not worth it anyway. Look's like were back to square one."

"I'll go get the paper". Meredith jumped up, heading towards their shared dorm.

"I'll grab us some ink". Replied Leila, doing the same.

----

Some time later, as the light enchanting the stain glass window in the centre of the common room turned the colours from an iridescent green to a muted olive, Meredith and Leila had finished their project. Smiling happily at their work, they raced each other over to the notice board, with Meredith winning after shoving Leila into an unsuspecting first year.

"Good evening, fellow Slytherins!" Meredith announced, facing out to a crowd of unsmiling faces. "Ahem...erm yea we need to a new pianist for our band! If you are interested, please sign up here! Thank you!" she cringed slightly, and grabbed Leila's arm as they turned and ducked into a nearby alcove, waiting for prey to approach.

"That was..."

"Shut up."

They sat there, huddled together, attempting and failing to look causal, as one by one people approached and scribbled their name down. First came a red haired third year, scribbling her name down and racing back over to her group for friends. More and more approached, and Leila scanned them eagerly, hoping to pickup on any hints of hidden talent.

Meredith and Leila's band was the corner stone of their friendship, their shared love of music being the glue between any disputes or petty arguments. Ever since the sorting hat proudly announced Slytherin all those years go, Leila has felt a bubble of dread settling in her stomach waiting to rise. Coming from the union between a powerful french family and the Malfoy's, Leila knew what awaited her upon graduation. Submission, marriage and being caged away in her own home; suffocating under the 'social laws' of the pureblooded upper echelon. This was her liberation, her little stroke of rebellion, and she wouldn't let any old person join them.