The Tree of Blacks (English version)

The Sirius' Escape

26 December, 1976. Grimmauld Place.

Snow was falling thickly on Grimmauld Place, now completely covered by a vast, white blanket.

Alya watched the flakes twirling gracefully and dancing beyond the living room windows. Some cackling children were busy battling each other with snowballs. Flows of white steam flowed from their lively mouths, amid shouts and laughter.

"Have the Muggles targeted the wall of our house again?" asked Regulus boredly, as he absentmindedly read a copy of the Daily Prophet, sitting on one of the sofas.

"Not yet," replied his sister, closing the heavy dark curtains of the window. She reached her brother and sat down on the sofa opposite him. Beside them, a warm, crackling fire burned in the sumptuous maw of the fireplace. Ideal company for that cold, white day.

Alya looked at Regulus intent on devouring every word of the newspaper with a concentrated expression, bearing a striking resemblance to her father, Orion Black.

On the front page of the Gazette, the worried figure of the Prime Minister of Magic, Harold Minchum, proclaimed with silent lip movement the new decree on security at Azkaban, which he had issued.

"Increased the number of Dementors in Azkaban. Thus the Prime Minister responds to the advance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." read Alya aloud.

"A bit weak as a strategy. I don't think You-Know-Who is very afraid of the Dementors," the girl commented amused.

"Any strategy is weak against the Dark Lord." ruled Regulus solemnly, not concealing a note of admiration. "The Ministry should surrender to the evidence and stop opposing him. The Dark Lord has a broader vision for what concerns our world. He would give everyone what they truly deserve."

"You sound just like dad," Alya teased him, simulating a yawn.

"If you bothered to read a newspaper sometime, you'd know what I'm talking about," Regulus scolded her sternly.

"I don't like politics, Reg. Maybe even less than Quidditch," Alya said, stretching.

"We don't just talk politics here, Alya. It's about war. About revolution. About taking what is rightfully ours." exclaimed Regulus with intensity and fiery fury in his pupils. "The Dark Lord acts to honour the purity of our magical blood!"

"And now you sound like Bellatrix." laughed Alya "Personally, Reg, I find this great Dark Lord you so revere to be nothing more than a fanatic. Powerful, certainly. But still a fanatic."

"And you sound like Sirius," Regulus accused her, resentfully. Alya frowned. Being compared to her twin brother always made her nervous. But she didn't pay heed to Regulus's tirade; she had no desire to fight. There was already enough tension in the house.

"Maybe you're right after all. As I told you, I don't know anything about politics, you're the expert,' Alya sighed, with a shrug of her shoulders, trying to sport a conciliatory tone. Regulus seemed to relax.

"Speaking of Sirius, do you know where he went?" asked the girl.

"In his room. As always." replied his brother indifferently.

"Mom locked him up again?"

"No, no. She's given up on it by now, too. I would call it more of a spontaneous exile."

"Wise choice. At least they spare us their insult sessions," Alya commented, stretching her arms.

"But do you believe it?" asked Regulus, suddenly concerned.

"What are you referring to?"

"To what they say at school - that Sirius tried to take out Snape."

Alya shook her head.