The months continued to pass without Alphard and Marguerith, both deeply in love, being able to step out of the roles they had established for themselves since childhood. He, for fear of losing the bond he had maintained with her for almost his entire life, and she, for still having her sister's words echoing in her ears like a curse. Betelgeuse, on the other hand, reaped the benefits of what she had sown at Minister Tuft's party. Stephanio and she had gotten along immensely well, better than she had expected. The Russian had visited her several times during the rest of the Christmas break and had even come to Hogwarts to accompany her on a trip to Hogsmeade. They corresponded with each other constantly, and she began learning Russian with great dedication.

That afternoon, in the Herbarium, studying with her sister, Betelgeuse was reading to Marguerith the latest letter she had received from her boyfriend. It was strange for her to call him that; it seemed like an infantile name for the relationship she had established with him.

"Stephanio is coming to see me during the Easter holiday," she said. "He said he had a surprise for me."

The younger of the twins smiled in response but suddenly frowned a little when she noticed that Betelgeuse's usually pale features were flushed.

"You're not well, are you?" she asked, almost incisively.

The other girl just shrugged as if it didn't really matter to her.

"I woke up a bit feverish and unwell. But a silly thing like this won't stop me from competing in the Chess Tournament tomorrow."

Marge shook her head, about to scold her sister, when she noticed a pair of hands covering her eyes, already guessing who it might be.

"Alphard!" she exclaimed with a mix of reproach and amusement at her newly arrived cousin.

The dark-haired boy with blue eyes gave a mischievous smile to the object of his affection. Although he had not yet confessed his feelings, he couldn't contain the immense affection he felt for Marguerith. He turned to Betelgeuse, greeting her with a nod, which she reciprocated.

"I came to see how my favorite cousins were."

"I'm very well," Marge replied, letting a gentle expression take over her face.

Betelgeuse just watched the two with an enigmatic expression. Then the younger twin turned her attention back to her sister.

"The one who isn't well is Betelgeuse, Alphie," Marguerith said with a slight tone of severity. "She's got a fever and doesn't want to go to the hospital wing."

Alphard observed the other cousin and also noticed the unusual flush on her face. He knew how stubborn Betelgeuse could be, even more so than Marguerith.

"I suppose you want me to take your dear sister to the infirmary," he said.

Betelgeuse just rolled her eyes slightly, finding all this fuss from her sister unnecessary, while hiding the surprise of her cousin's offer.

"If it pleases your ladyship, Lady Marge, I shall try to escort Lady Betelgeuse to the appropriate care," he replied, making a slight bow and placing his hands on her shoulders, guiding her out of the Herbarium.

Marguerith blinked, not understanding what had just happened. Alphard always avoided close proximity to Betelgeuse, and the feeling was mutual. However, Marge felt happy about this unexpected event. Perhaps Alphie could make a better impression on Betelgeuse, and her sister would see their cousin in a kinder light.

Outside the Herbarium, the older twin, still guided by her shoulders by Alphard, spoke in a threatening tone.

"You're a dead man if you take me to the infirmary."

The Slytherin laughed loudly, replying.

"Who am I to face the wrath of Betelgeuse Black?"

The dark-haired girl with blue eyes crossed her arms and looked at her cousin suspiciously.

"What are you up to, Alphie? We treat each other cordially, but we've never been good friends."

"I want to see Marguerith happy; that's what matters most to me. And I believe it's important to you too. I wanted to propose a truce for her sake."

Betelgeuse kept her impassive gaze fixed on her cousin, evaluating him. It was the first time in years that they were really having a good conversation. She still thought he was an unworthy boyfriend for Marguerith, but perhaps she could give him a chance to prove otherwise. After all, he had the courage to come talk to her without being intimidated.

"All right," she finally replied. "I'll go to our common room to rest."

"Thank you," he said, unable to hide his smile.

Alphard felt satisfied, thinking to himself that perhaps the ice maiden was softening that hard heart a bit.

"How is she?" Alphie asked as he and Marge headed to the library to study for their NEWTs.

"You know my sister," the Slytherin replied. "She doesn't give in even with a sore throat. If she had gone to the hospital wing when I suggested it earlier, she wouldn't be hospitalized there now."

They were turning the corner to enter the next corridor when they heard two male voices, which they recognized as housemates William Yaxley and James Rowle.

"I still can't believe that Black bitch beat me in the Chess Tournament," Yaxley said, with such anger that it seemed he was spitting out biting fairies with every word.

"You're just sore because she's a girl," Rowle shrugged, as if he thought his friend was making a big fuss over nothing. Everyone knew that Betelgeuse was the best chess player in the school.

"And because she's an arrogant bitch who thinks she owns Hogwarts and all of England when she's really just a common whore," William retorted with disdain.

Marguerith trembled at hearing those words. She would never let anyone speak ill of her sister in front of her. Alphard noticed her distress but couldn't stop her from striding purposefully towards the two boys.

"Say that to my face!" Marge pointed her wand at the boy. Though she was trembling with anger inside, her expression was hard and firm.

Yaxley gave a half-sarcastic smile, not feeling intimidated by that "little girl."

"Everyone knows your mother was your uncle's mistress," he replied, crossing his arms smugly. "Don't they say a mermaid's child is a mermaid too?"

"Take that back!" Marge spoke low, almost whispering through clenched teeth.

"No! What are you going to do? Kill me?"

The girl bit her lower lip lightly, thinking to herself, amidst the anger, that perhaps that was a great idea. Without reflecting, the word began to form in her mind in a non-verbal spell.

"Avada..."

Realizing what she was about to do, Marguerith took a deep breath, recomposing herself. At the last second, she changed the spell, causing Yaxley's lips to stick together, leaving him completely unable to speak.

"There's no use trying to free them. The spell lasts twenty-four hours. It'll be a good time for you to reflect on what you say about any member of my family."

Rowle and Alphard, who had been watching the scene in astonishment, decided to act. James ran to help his friend while Alphie took Marguerith by the hands, pulling her away and continuing their way to the library.

Both knew that Yaxley was too proud to admit that a girl had humiliated him. That incident wouldn't bring any consequences for the girl in terms of detention or anything like that.

Alphard watched Marguerith as she leaned, thoughtful, against the windowsill of the large, empty classroom. Her chin rested on her hands, and her green eyes scanned the school grounds. In the distance, the lake rippled restlessly, and above, the wind rustled through the leaves of the trees.

She turned to look at him. Alphie was sitting on the floor, his head resting against the wall, also watching her. He had lost track of how long they had been in that room.

Earlier, while they were studying in the library, he had noticed that Marge remained slightly disturbed. Nothing explicit to their other classmates, except perhaps Betelgeuse, if she had been there with them. However, Alphard had learned to read every small nuance she let slip beneath her rigid posture as an heiress of the Blacks.

Her eyes were more distant and cloudy. Alphard understood why. Any topic involving one of her deceased parents always unsettled her. Not to mention she also became overly protective when Betelgeuse was involved. And the argument they had earlier with Yaxley had been quite tense.

As soon as they left the library and found themselves completely alone in the corridors, he didn't hesitate and gently but firmly took his cousin's hand.

"Marge," he said, looking directly into her eyes, knowing she would understand his silent request for her to open up a bit and share what was going on inside her.

"I don't want to be alone," was all she replied in a low voice, without taking her eyes off Alphard. "But I don't want to go back to our common room."

That's how they ended up in that empty classroom.

The girl left the window, sitting down next to him again as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Silence fell over them. Alphard observed the girl out of the corner of his eye. Marguerith was tense; he could feel it.

Marge looked away, focusing on the tips of her own feet. Alphie had never seen her so fragile and scared, despite all the effort she put into hiding these emotions. That attitude seemed more to safeguard herself than to prevent the boy from noticing what was going on inside her.

Alphard shook his head.

"You know you don't have to be so reserved with me, don't you? It's okay if you want to cry or vent."

Marge lifted her face, her eyes wide in surprise for a brief moment. The surprise, however, was replaced by a different feeling. Without realizing it, the impassive mask left her face, and a truly genuine smile blossomed on her lips, though a shadow of melancholy could still be perceived.

Alphard smiled sideways, noticing he had managed to elicit a reaction from Marguerith. He really wanted her to understand that he was there for her.

Without planning, just guided by a strong feeling, the boy leaned forward slightly and extended one of his hands to the girl's face. She trembled slightly, pulling her face away from his touch.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking directly into those emerald eyes with a sweet and gentle expression.

Marguerith looked away momentarily before returning her gaze to him with her characteristic haughtiness.

"I trust you, Alphie."

The boy's face lit up at those words. This was the moment he had waited for all those months. Her words gave him the courage for what he would do next.

"Then stay still."

That was the last thing he said before holding Marguerith's chin and pressing his lips to hers. The Slytherin's green eyes widened in astonishment once again before closing serenely. Alphard could feel her surrendering completely and without any resistance into his arms.

The hand that was on Marge's chin moved to the base of her neck, while his other arm circled her back. He brought her closer to his body, and his lips sought to savor hers more deeply, as he had always dreamed since realizing he loved Marguerith.

He felt the girl wrapping her arms around his back, allowing her lips to part so his tongue could touch the inside of her mouth.

Alphard's hands got lost in Marguerith's hair and the contours of her back, while she hugged him tighter, trying to match his kiss with the same fervor. The warmth of her body and the scent of roses emanating from her skin were beginning to intoxicate the boy's senses.

He had never felt so happy in his life until that moment.

That night, after they kissed, Marge just snuggled into his shoulder and fell asleep. No more words were exchanged between them. The next morning, he woke up completely alone, except for a note with Marguerith's delicate yet firm handwriting that said, "Thank you."

Alphard saw her from afar, sitting intently on a bench.

Since the previous night, they hadn't been alone together again. Sometimes, he had the impression that she was deliberately avoiding him.

At that moment, Marguerith was completely alone, and it seemed to Alphard the perfect opportunity for them to finally talk.

His shadow fell over the girl, drawing the Slytherin's attention away from her thoughts and toward her cousin.

He smiled serenely at her.

"Hi, Marge," he greeted. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Go ahead, Alphie," she replied, in an apparently neutral and almost impassive manner, but the boy could detect a slight tremor in her voice.

"I love you, Marge," he said firmly. "I've felt this way for a long time, although until yesterday I didn't have the opportunity to show it. I want to know if you can love me back."

It was obvious that after the kiss they shared, Marguerith knew about his feelings for her, but still, Alphard felt it necessary to say it to her outright, so no doubts or misunderstandings could come between them.

The girl closed her green eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them again, she looked at him with a melancholic expression.

"I..." the Slytherin sighed, not knowing what to say.

She lowered her face, trying to organize her thoughts. She thought to herself that it was not the time to hide behind masks.

"I'm scared..." she finally said.

Alphard sat next to her, waiting for Marguerith to continue. Of all the answers he expected, that was the only one he hadn't predicted.

"Scared of what?" he asked gently.

She took a while longer to speak again.

"So many things that I don't know where to start... I'm scared of the life we'll have together... You always went out to have fun, staying out all night... Bete thinks you'll hurt me... That you won't give me security... I don't want to become an outcast... I don't want them to say about me what they say about my parents..."

"Marge..." he tried to comfort her, placing his hand over hers, but the girl pulled away from Alphard's touch.

She lifted her face, looking at him with extreme seriousness, almost painfully.

"That's not all, Alphie. Yesterday I realized a side of me I wasn't aware existed with such intensity. When Yaxley said those things about Bete, about my mother, I really thought about killing him. The Avada came strongly to my mind... I could have done it..."

"But you didn't..." he retorted.

"No... But that disturbed me, which is why I was so upset yesterday. Because I really can be harsh and cruel, I can hurt someone. And I'm afraid of hurting you without realizing it..."

Alphard shook his head in disagreement. He could understand her fears, but he knew the truth behind them. She was simply making excuses to not allow herself to love. Trying to seal the crack in her wall that Alphard had dared to enter. The real fear Marguerith had was losing someone again. Like she lost her father, like she lost her mother.

"I'm not going to abandon you, I already promised you that. And I love you, Marguerith, with all your flaws..."

She remained still, but Alphard noticed a slight tremor running through her body. He knew he had hit the mark with his conjectures.

"I've always been sincere and honest with you," he continued. "I want something serious and solid for us. I'm not the irresponsible boy our family thinks I am. My paternal grandfather left an inheritance for me to claim at adulthood, I bought a small apartment, and I'm going to have my own business. I'm going to create a secure future for us."

Marguerith's eyes widened slightly in surprise at this information. It wasn't something she expected from Alphard, who had always seemed to her someone guided by circumstances and not a person who paused to trace the paths of his own destiny.

"Do you love me?" he asked, more directly than before.

"I do," she replied, unable to lie.

"Then become my girlfriend."

She lowered her head again, thoughtful, still not feeling ready to give an answer.

"Alphie... I need some time... Please..." she practically pleaded.

"I'll do what you ask, Marge. For now..."

He lowered his face, opening the backpack he carried over his shoulder. From it, he took out a small box that he left on the bench next to the girl.

"Inside is the key to my apartment and the address. If you change your mind or want to talk, you can come find me there. I'll spend the Easter holiday organizing the place."

Alphard stood up, leaving Marguerith without looking back. The truth was that, despite everything, the conversation had been better than he had imagined. She said she loved him, and he would cling to the hope those words brought.