Sirius was still standing there in a daze, completely clueless. What on earth was Gloria envious of? He shook his head, got up, walked over to James, and began their midnight adventure for the evening.
Yet James noticed that his brother was spacing out more and more often. This was definitely not normal.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius kept casting involuntary glances toward the Slytherin table—at that pretty little white snake. He would take just one quick look and then look away, feeling that something was slightly off with him.
By the way, what kind of potion was actually useful if a wizard's heart started acting up?
These days, Sirius and James were still out on their midnight strolls every single night, though they occasionally slipped up.
Consequently, the next day, Gloria—or rather, practically everyone—saw that the Gryffindor hourglass had dropped by a strikingly obvious amount. Gloria cast an interested glance at it; she was genuinely curious about what on earth that fellow had managed to do.
"Ha, did Gryffindor go and steal all their own gems? They've lost so many points. It looks like the House Cup this term is ours for the taking."
Beverly piped up from beside her. Gloria simply listened quietly without saying a word, and Beverly clearly didn't mind, just chattering on about whatever interesting gossip crossed her mind.
Before long, her topic shifted to the upcoming Christmas holiday.
"Speaking of which, Gloria, would you like to come to my house for Christmas? I'm sure my parents would be thrilled."
Gloria's handiwork as she cut her breakfast suddenly paused, her gaze darkening. To be honest, she really had no desire to go back to that house. She didn't want to see her father, nor did she want to lay eyes on anyone with the surname Buchstaben who might get invited over by him. Yet, return she must.
Because her mother would definitely miss her.
"Alright, I'll come," Gloria said, putting down her knife and fork and smiling at Beverly. At the very least, when she went out to fulfill the invitation, she wouldn't have to look at her hypocritical father. Besides, he wouldn't stop her from associating with members of the Buchstaben family anyway; in his eyes, profit came above all else, and every friendship had an ulterior motive—he never believed in genuine sincerity.
The year passed exceptionally quickly. Another person feeling deeply unhappy about having to go home for the Christmas holidays was Sirius.
Sirius hadn't wanted to return, but they insisted that he must. You could easily guess why: one hundred percent because he had been sorted into Gryffindor, and they wanted to lock him in solitary confinement.
"Hey! Sirius, Remus, do you guys want to come over to my place for the holidays?" James was packing his things, enthusiastically asking Sirius and the boy sitting on his bed reading a book. That was Remus Lupin, one of Sirius and James's roommates.
Hearing this, Sirius felt even more depressed.
"Oh, please, James, there's no way I can get out. If I go back this time, my mother will definitely lock me up at home."
Upon hearing this, James paused, walked over, and patted him on the shoulder. After a moment of thought, his eyes lit up, and he suggested half-jokingly, half-seriously, "Then I'll just go to your house and find you! If worst comes to worst, I can break in and rescue you in the middle of the night!"
Sirius thought his proposal was brilliant. He threw an arm around James's neck, pulled him closer, and patted him heavily on the back as he burst out laughing. "Hahaha, James, you really are my best mate."
Watching their goofy antics, Remus smiled and shook his head; clearly, spectacles of this sort happened every single day.
Sitting on the train back, Sirius stepped out intending to buy something, only to spot Gloria sitting all by herself in a compartment, watching the scenery outside the window and letting the breeze blow over her. Sirius stood at the doorway for a few seconds before turning to leave. Yet the moment he walked away, Gloria seemed to sense something, turning her head to look right at the spot where Sirius had been standing.
...
Gloria stepped off the train and spotted her mother at a glance. She was wearing a long white dress, standing right there. When she saw her daughter, her smile grew even softer, and she opened her arms to wait for her precious girl.
Gloria flew into her mother's embrace like a fluttering butterfly. After saying their goodbyes and walking over, Sirius and James caught sight of this exact scene. Seeing her smiling so happily tugged at the corner of Sirius's own mouth, bringing a trace of a smile to his face.
Yet that smile vanished completely the moment he saw the person approaching. He saw his mother, clad entirely in a black dress, looking at him with nothing but fury in her eyes. She managed to exercise restraint and didn't throw a fit right then and there, only gritting her teeth as she drew near him, spitting out a single address through clenched teeth: "Unfilial son."
Sirius had no intention whatsoever of listening to what she had to say; it was always the same old words anyway. He only felt suffocated. At that very moment, Sirius simply wanted to follow his own heart—he had an urgent desire to look at Gloria's smile, without caring about the reasons.
Yet all she saw was Gloria frowning as she looked ahead. Sirius blinked, looked past her, and spotted a man in a tailored suit. Sirius recognized him.
Stuart Sisyphus.
Gloria's father. Sirius's gaze lingered back and forth on that family of three. Gloria looked much more like her mother, except she lacked her mother's gentleness; her demeanor instead resembled her father's down to the last detail—cold and detached, even though she was only eleven years old.
Over there, Stuart had noticed Walburga standing nearby and walked over with a smile to greet her. Sisyphus was, after all, one of the pure-blood families that had recently moved to Britain.
Sirius watched the two of them, finding them hypocritical no matter how he looked at it. He glanced toward Gloria, who was likewise casting a sarcastic glare at her own father.
Sensing his gaze, she turned to look at Sirius. The two of them locked eyes, shutting out the rest of the world as if nothing existed within their field of vision except each other—until Gloria felt her mother gently stroke her hair. Only then did she snap out of it, turning with her mother to leave.
On Christmas Day, Sirius received gifts from James and Remus. James was still plotting how to rescue him from this house, seemingly taking the plan quite seriously, which made Sirius chuckle to himself. Still, perhaps one day this "rescue" plan might actually come in handy.
The Christmas holiday passed reasonably quickly. Sirius stayed in his room, tinkering with a few Muggle gadgets. He had no wish to see his parents, nor did he care to look at his goody-two-shoes younger brother; besides, they didn't exactly look forward to seeing him either, so it was the best of both worlds.
Gloria went to visit Beverly's home as promised. She met Beverly's older brother, and to be frank, Gloria didn't think they looked alike at all. You could tell people her brother was a relative of Goyle or Crabbe from Slytherin, and nobody would question it.
I mean, why was her little sister so petite and cute—round, perhaps, but just the right amount of round to be adorable—yet her brother was built like a troll? Forgive the comparison, but at that moment, her brain couldn't conjure up any other metaphor. Bailey was certainly much easier on the eyes.
The two of them arranged a trip to Diagon Alley. Most of the time she was either keeping her mother company or shut up in the study. If one didn't have to see Carissa, it really could be considered a rather pleasant holiday.
Ever since the lesson she'd received last time, Carissa had shown genuine fear of her, even begging desperately to be transferred to Beauxbatons. That was fine by her; at least she wouldn't have to see Carissa anymore.
Returning to Hogwarts, she resumed her peaceful academic life—if...
If one chose to ignore the outright hostility between that bunch from Gryffindor and Slytherin's Snape. Gloria had run into them a few times: Black, Potter, and a boy who always looked quiet and subdued, occasionally followed by someone short and terribly timid trailing behind them.
Gloria inexplicably disliked that trailing person. As for the one they bullied—Severus Snape—although Gloria wasn't too fond of his gloomy and sullen disposition, she had to admit that his talent for potion-making was truly astonishing.
His only apparent friend was a Gryffindor girl, very pretty and exceptionally talented, supposedly Muggle-born. Gloria actually held a somewhat favorable impression of her.
When Potions class let out, Gloria and Beverly walked toward the Great Hall together. Just as they turned a corner, they heard Potter's voice mocking Snape. Taking a few more steps, they heard a girl's voice chewing someone out. Right in front of her, Gloria caught sight of a head of fiery red hair and a red robe as the girl stood facing Snape, confronting Potter. Snape was gripping his wand tightly, looking ready to strike at any second.
Although the matter had nothing to do with her, the corridor was far too lively, and a Slytherin was involved. If a professor happened to catch them, getting dragged into it was practically guaranteed. Besides, she was hungry, and this lot insisted on blocking the path.
"I should think the two of you ought not to block the corridor causing a scene and disturbing others."
Amidst the standoff between the group, a cool, detached voice rang out, causing everyone present to freeze.
Sirius spotted Gloria instantly. Hearing her words, he hesitated for a moment before being the first to lower his wand. He cast a disdainful glance at Snape, who was standing sheltered behind Evans, and threw an arm around James's shoulders, starting toward the Great Hall.
"Come on, James. Let's go eat."
Looking thoroughly bewildered, James was dragged away by Sirius.
"Huh? Just like that? Wait a minute, I still wanted to—"
Watching Sirius turn to leave, Gloria let out a barely perceptible smirk that vanished in a flash.
She cast a glance at her two companions and grabbed Beverly, ready to walk away.
Yet accidents have a habit of striking when least expected. At that very moment, Snape's wand quietly emitted a flash of light, aimed directly at James. But the crowd had already started moving, and since Gloria disliked crowds, she had pulled Beverly aside by a single step. That exact step exposed Gloria to the direct trajectory of Snape's hidden wand.
Snape started, desperately trying to divert the spell, but it was already too late. The hex shot forward. Feeling the danger acutely, Gloria shoved Beverly aside. Amidst her friend's panicked shrieks, she realized there was no time to draw her wand, and dodging might not work either. Gritting her teeth, Gloria raised her arm, harboring a hopeful, wishful-thinking guess that a first-year student couldn't possibly know very many dark hexes.
Yet she felt nothing at all. The very next second, she found herself pulled firmly into a warm embrace carrying a pleasant scent. Gloria's eyes flickered; she recognized who it was—she had smelled this exact fragrance on Sirius before.
James's furious shouting with his wand raised, Beverly's worried cries, and Evans's disbelieving gasps drifted into her ears to varying degrees, but right now, all she could register was the strange, tiny kernel of security brought to her by this embrace.
Gloria paused for a few seconds, then raised her head to look at him. Sirius's grey eyes were fixed upon her, the worry and panic in them entirely exposed.
Not expecting her to look up, he froze for a second, averted his gaze, and revealed tips of his ears that had turned somewhat red beneath his messy black curls.
Beverly hurried over to pull her away, checking her all over for injuries. Gloria smiled to reassure her, while using her peripheral vision to size up Sirius, wanting to check if he was hurt. Luckily, James had managed to deflect the spell in time—heaven knew what his mental state had been like when he saw Sirius suddenly rush forward right as that curse was about to strike. He'd nearly been frightened to death.
Indeed, Sirius hadn't put up any defense whatsoever. Seeing that scene had made his heart leap into his throat; how could he possibly have thought of defending himself?
Sirius's heart was beating wildly. He had no idea why he was in such a panic, but all he knew at the time was that he didn't want to see that girl get hurt.
"Thank you, Black."
The cool, calm voice drifted into his ears, leaving Sirius slightly dazed as Gloria stepped out of his embrace and offered her thanks.
His arms suddenly felt somewhat empty, and the pleasant rose scent dissipated into the air. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hands back.
Gloria turned to look at a remorseful Snape and a visibly anxious Lily. Lily took two steps forward, but as if suddenly remembering something, she hesitated, stopped in front of Gloria, and pulled Snape along to offer an apology.
Gloria smiled gently, gesturing that it was nothing. She didn't notice that behind her, upon hearing the commotion, Sirius had fixed an icy glare on Snape, looking rather like an infuriated lion ready to tear him to shreds.
As Gloria and Beverly walked slowly toward the Great Hall, Beverly gasped, "Gosh, I can't believe it! Black actually saved you? He's actually capable of saving someone? Could it be that even Black has fallen under our Leah's spell?"
"Bailey, please."
With Beverly's teasing remarks ringing in her ear, Gloria helplessly called her name.
"All right, all right. Well, at least he saved you, otherwise I wouldn't have known what to do. That hex was about to hit you square on—oh! And speaking of hexes, Snape is just being completely impossible..."
She really was helpless with this somewhat flighty friend of hers, so she simply gave up on managing her endless stream of chatter; her astonishment wasn't unjustified, anyway.
Sirius Black: Gryffindor, handsome, aloof, and arrogant. That was how the various houses summed him up after just a short few weeks. With his air of indifference to everything, the only things Black seemingly cared about were James Potter and adventure. His obsession with losing house points and then earning them back made him and James the professors' ultimate headache-inducing duo.
For him to save someone—and a Slytherin at that? Right, nobody would ever believe that if you told them, yet it had actually, truly happened.
Gryffindor figured he was pulling off some elaborate prank scheme; Slytherin couldn't be bothered to care; Hufflepuff thought he was just acting on a whim; and as for Ravenclaw, practically nobody paid attention since academics came first. Gloria had actually noticed a worried gaze directed her way; she knew whose it was and would go reassure her later.
Elodie.
People were always like this: as long as an incident had no lingering aftermath, nobody would ever continue paying attention to it.
At most, the friction between the Marauders and Snape simply escalated a notch after that.
They would still go on their midnight strolls, lose points, occasionally pull pranks, target Snape, or get retaliated against by Snape in turn.
Amidst all the bickering and noise, their first-year journey came to an end.
When the exam results were posted, the top of the grade proudly bore the name Gloria Sisyphus. Right behind her followed Sirius, James, Evans, Remus, and the rest.
Many families had whispered that Gloria was an immensely gifted prodigy, but there were always skeptics. This ranking proved beyond a doubt to everyone that she was an exceptionally brilliant girl.
With a sterling family background, top-tier grades, and stunning looks, someone like this would surely become the target of numerous recruitment efforts come next year. Gloria understood that this was precisely what her father would be most pleased to see.
It wasn't what she wanted, though—she simply had no choice in the matter.
Yet perhaps she could forge one. In any case, she would never allow herself to be manipulated at will like some golden canary.
...
June 1972, night. 12 Grimmauld Place.
Sirius lay in bed, unable to sleep. In his mind, those long white strands of hair, those blue eyes, that accidental embrace, and that wonderful rose-scented fragrance kept flashing relentlessly, entirely beyond his control.
Sirius covered his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a soft sigh in the darkness. This is getting ridiculous, he thought.
Ever since the start of summer vacation, he'd spent several days pondering it, coming up with hundreds of counter-arguments, only to watch them get dismantled one by one by his own mind.
He had to admit it: he had a bit of a crush on that little white snake—or rather, that little rose. Spells didn't work, and potions were useless; this was neither a Love Potion nor a prank. This heart of his had truly fallen ill, and its name was infatuation.
Infatuation had no definition. It could strike on a peaceful afternoon, or during a relentless, unending stretch of rain.
It could happen at sunrise or sunset, in the season of blooming roses, the cicada-filled height of summer, or amidst swirling snowflakes in the dead of winter. A momentary spark of falling in love was...
Well, what was it, exactly?
It was that moment when your heartbeat quickened, as you caught yourself dreaming of a tomorrow—and even a future—shared with them.
Forget it, Sirius thought with a sense of self-abandonment.
Forget it. He'd lost to her.