Alina Nightshade doesn't think much about James Potter. Only that he seems rather keen on being annoying.
James Potter thinks Alina Nightshade is a mystery all wrapped up in a very pretty girl. And he is keen on trying to be her friend.
James Potte...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Alina's gaze lingers on the necklace, a peculiar heaviness settling over her. It's an heirloom—gaunt, ancient, and strange, sitting untouched on her desk. She can't shake the unease it stirs in her.
Dressed for the day, Alina paused, drawn to the necklace once more. She studies it intently, but no clarity comes.
It makes no sense.
With a soft sigh, she blinks, breaking the trance, and leans down to blow out the flickering candle. Leaving her dormitory, she passes through the common room, her thoughts elsewhere.
James crosses her mind—no, Remus. The full moon was last night, and she hasn't seen a vision of it. In fact, she hasn't had a vision in what feels like ages.
The halls are cold, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor as she makes her way to the Great Hall. Few students roam the corridors—most are already seated or still waking up.
When she arrives, her eyes immediately seek out the Gryffindor table.
Remus isn't there. That's not surprising. James isn't either. Neither is Peter.
A slight panic rises in her chest, tightening her throat, but she pushes it down.
Only Sirius sits there, methodically loading food onto three plates. Even from a distance, he looks weary, dark circles under his eyes and a fresh bandage on his cheek.
Alina hesitates for a moment, then strides over. Sirius glances up, surprise flashing across his face.
"Let me help," she offers, picking up one of the plates. She raises an eyebrow, pretending to scrutinize him. "James and Peter must've caught whatever you had, huh?"
Sirius gives a quick nod, balancing two plates in his hands. "Yeah, something like that," he mutters, before shooting her a sly look. "You're not helping just so you can poison them, are you?" He smirks as he steps away from the table, already moving toward the exit.
"If I wanted any of you dead, you'd be dead," Alina says calmly, stepping away from the table and swiftly leaving the Great Hall, Sirius falling into step beside her.
"I suppose you're right," Sirius muses, moving to walk alongside her as they head toward the hospital wing. "So, how would you do it? Poison?"
"For you, no. For the others, definitely," Alina replies with a detached tone, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"You'd torture me first, then?"
"Of course," she nods as they round a corner. "You always were too much of a nuisance."
"Were?" Sirius smirks, his long hair brushing his shoulder as he glances at her.
"Are," Alina corrects.
"Nope, no take-backs," Sirius grins, clearly pleased, as they reach the hospital wing.
Alina rolls her eyes, pushing open the door and letting Sirius pass by her. He quickly strides ahead into the room.
