The Tree of Blacks (English version)

Toujours Pur

November 1966. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place

The following morning, Alya woke up suddenly, because of the sharp sound of repeated knocks against the door. Despite the strange nightmare which had made her jump to her feet in the middle of the night, the little girl had somehow managed to fall back asleep and take a last nap before dawn. Fortunately, no other frightening dreams had disturbed her sleep.

"The young lady has to get up." croaked old Kreacher's hoarse voice from behind the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." the little girl muttered in a thick voice.

Reluctantly, Alya slipped out of the warm sheets and got out of bed.

She quickly got ready to go to the basement kitchen for breakfast.
She left the room and went down the stairs, yawning and rubbing her eyes with one hand, still numb from the sleep that had stuck to her.

As soon as she crossed the doorstep of the kitchen, Alya was immediately enveloped by the damp gloom that perpetually lingered in that area of ​​the house.

Her little brother, Regulus, was already seated at the long wooden table, his face visibly groggy with exhaustion. Regulus had never liked to wake up early in the morning.

Alya joined him and sat down beside him.

The only one missing was Sirius and Alya couldn't help but take a look full of disapproval at his empty chair. Apparently he hadn't woken up yet, probably because he'd spent all night secretly reading his priceless adventure books.

Mom will fly off the handle... again, Alya bitterly said to herself.

But the little girl's considerations of Sirius and his disrespectful behavior were abruptly interrupted by the low muttering of her stomach.

"Kreacher, I'm hungry!", Alya whimpered, addressing the busy elf at the stove.

"Miss must have patience. Kreacher finishes preparing now.", Kreacher muttered. Alya and Regulus snorted impatiently.

After a few seconds, a small jug hovered in the air from the hob. Like an inexperienced bird, it flew shakily around the room, until it reached the long table which stood in the middle of the room, pouring copious steaming milk into the two children's cups. At the same moment, two large slices of crunchy-looking toast appeared inside the silver plates in front of Regulus and Alya, with no added ingredients: butter and jam were not allowed in the Black house, Walburga didn't tolerate any excesses, nor vices.

As the two brothers sipped their warm milk in solemn silence, Sirius burst into the kitchen. Judging by his messy face and hair, it was clear that he had just gotten out of bed, getting ready in a hurry. Sitting in the seat, facing Alya, the child glared at Kreacher with a spiteful look.

"Why didn't you wake me up, stupid?", Sirius accused the old creature.

"Kreacher knocks on the little master's doors many times, but he always ignores the poor elf. The little master accuses Kreacher unfairly." the house elf whined.

"You're a liar! I bet you did it on purpose, to spite me!"

Alya suspected that there was some truth in Sirius's words: he and Kreacher had never gotten along. The elf could not stand the child's rebellious behavior, while Sirius hated having to take orders from the old creature. In fact, Sirius hated rules in general.

However, Alya didn't like how Sirius addressed Kreacher, so she didn't stand up for her twin brother.

"Maybe you read late and didn't hear him knock this morning because you were sleeping like a log.", Alya whispered to Sirius, in a knowing voice.