Every year in every house has five girls and five boys. We know about the Marauders, but what about the fifth boy? Who was he? Why was he not a Marauder, if he roomed with all of them? This is the story of Tarin Gauvreau, the forgotten Gryffindor.
I stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was a lovely ceiling, covered with ancient paintings that laughed and chatted amongst themselves. The whole chateau was ancient actually. It was Unplottable, and covered with invisibility charms, so Muggles had forgotten it existed. But I lived in Chateau Gauvreau with my family, and had all my life. There was Papa, Simon Gauvreau, the latest in a rather short line of Gauvreaus to own the chateau. Before that, some other family I had forgotten the name of had. Simon had all their names in a gigantic book somewhere, so it was not like it mattered. Simon was French, and the chateau was located in one of the northernmost parts of France.
Next there was Mother, Mercy Gauvreau. She was English. My whole family has dual citizenship (England and France) now. She is never home though, since she teaches Ancient Runes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is where I am going for school this year. Joy. It sounds horrible. Then there was me. Tarin Francois Gauvreau here. What a horrible name. Tarin is Celtic and Francois is French, because my parents both wanted to name me after their nationality. How stupid. And of course, I was made horrible fun of for having such a ridiculous name. My little sisters got off easy. There is Melisande, who is currently seven, and Layne, who is five.
Of course, Mercy being a professor there and all, I have to go to Hogwarts early. I do not want to leave Chateau Gauvreau, and I will be the first to admit that I am sentimental. I even look the part! I have dark brown hair that often falls into my eyes, dark brown eyes which could only be described as "soulful," and I spent most of my time indoors, despite the fact that I could see the ocean from my bedroom window. Meli and Layne are much the same. Simon roomed them in a different wing of the chateau, fearing sibling fights, but get along really well. All of us act older than we are. Meli is particularly thoughtful and liked to write poetry. Layne is a bit more active, but then, she is five and she can get just as lost in a book as me. I am ten. I turn eleven in December. December first.
I knew arguing with mother for a local school was pointless. Hogwarts offered some of the finest education in Europe, and besides, Mercy was a professor there. So, though it was only the end of July, my trunk was packed and I was about to leave Chateau Gauvreau for almost a year. It was a thought that almost bought me to tears. So here I was, lying on my bed for the last time in forever, watching a painting of a young girl laugh delightedly at something the painting of her lover had just said.
"Tarin, darling, we are Flooing to The Leaky Cauldron now," Mercy's soprano floated into my room on some magic current. The chateau was far too big for shouts to go anywhere, so Simon had invented a series of magic currents, like air, that one could speak into and direct to a certain person. That was Simon's job- he invented new spells. He was brilliant, which is where we kids got our intelligence from, I suppose. "Meet me in the family room in five minutes." Five minutes... that was how long it took me to walk from my bedroom to the family room. The place was way too big for five people, that much was certain.
Mercy and I were soon standing in The Leaky Cauldron, a rundown place with way too much business for its size. I could tell Mercy was happy to be back in a place where everyone spoke English, that was certain. She was as good in French as any native, but English was still her mother tongue. Living in France, I was better with French, but my English was just as good as Mercy's French. We quickly walked through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. Our first stop was Gringotts, and then Ollivander's.
"Mercy Gauvreau, good to see you again," Mr. Ollivander said, coming out of the shadows in a really scary way to my ten-year-old self. "Ten and one half inches, oak, with one unicorn hair. I remember that wand well. And this would be your eldest child, Tarin."
"Hello sir," I said, albeit a bit nervously. Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands and a tape measure appeared and started measuring various parts of my body while the crazy shopkeeper scanned the dusty shelves, muttering to himself. At last he pulled down a single wand.
"Try this one. Twelve inches, made of oak, with a dragon heartstring," he said, thrusting it at me. I waved it and nothing happened. He snatched it back and gave me another one, which was thirteen and three quarter inches, redwood, and had another dragon heartstring. It did not work either. Luckily, I was pretty easy to match. My sixteenth wand was the one- fourteen inches, made of ash, with a single unicorn hair. Silver and green sparks had flown out the end when I waved it.
Next stop was to get an owl for me. I could use Mercy's, of course, or a school owl, but I guess Mercy wanted to get me something to make up for dragging me away from Chateau Gauvreau. I emerged with a medium-sized, grey owl who I named Etienne, the name of the first Gauvreau to live in Chateau Gauvreau. My owl was a living reminder of home. I think Mercy disapproved, but she said nothing. Instead, we shopped pleasantly, saving the best for last- Flourish and Blotts.
"Mother, since you have my school list, can I look at pleasure books? Please?" I implored.
"Of course," Mercy said absently, already scanning my list and not caring which way I went. So off I went to the fantasy section, my favorites. Simon, Mercy, and I all read the same sorts of books, as would Meli and Layne when they were older. My parents introduced me to them when I was nine. I was thumbing through a likely-looking book when another boy approached me.
"You like fantasy?" he asked, surprise coming through in his voice. I could understand that... not many guys our age did.
"Yeah," I said, closing the book and taking a good look at the other boy. "I'm Tarin Gauvreau. Who're you?"
"Severus Snape," he said, taking the hand I offered. We talked pleasantly for a few moments until Mercy came up carrying my school supplies. I introduced Severus to her, and she smiled at him.
"What school are you going to, Severus?" Mercy asked.
"Hogwarts; I got my letter a week ago," he said, suddenly looking much less happy.
"So am I," I said, my tone matching his. "Mother is Ancient Runes professor there, so I am obligated to go."
"I would rather be at Drumstrang or another school along those lines," Severus said. "I have no idea why my parents want me here instead. I think it has something to do with their best friends, the Blacks. Their oldest son, Sirius, is going to Hogwarts this year; I think it has something to do with the fact that his cousins go there, so my parents want me to go there too. Of course, they do not know that that slimy git Black and I loathe each other."
"Merlin, I'm sorry," I said, meaning it.
"Ha! Don't be. He probably will in Hufflepuff or something anyway, not Slytherin like any decent member of his family... Say, what house do you want to be in?"
"I don't know... Mother's family has all been in Gryffindor, so I will probably go there, but I'd rather be in Ravenclaw."
"Ravenclaw's good..." Severus said thoughtfully. "But Gryffindor- I pity you. You seem decent enough."
"Tarin, we have to leave," Mercy told me. I think she heard Severus insult Gryffindor. But like I had said, I could not have less house pride, for any of the four. I did not want to go to Hogwarts period. Reluctantly, I bid Severus a good day, knowing I would see him again in about a month.
"Did he seem like a good friend?" Mercy asked, interrupting my gloomy thoughts.
"Yeah. We going to Hogwarts now?" I asked. Mercy nodded, and we walked to the Leaky Cauldron, Mercy trying to explain all the teachers I would meet and all of it going way over my head. I knew that the famous Albus Dumbledore had returned for his second year being Headmaster, but that was about it. We arrived in a fireplace of massive proportions in what could only be the Great Hall. Mercy had described it many times to me, but that still could not compare to the sheer wonder of it. The bright sun blasting down from the charmed sky actually made me need to squint.
"Mercy, good to see you again," an old man with long, long white hair and an even longer white beard said, embracing her.
"It is good to be back, Albus," Mercy said. "This is my son, Tarin. Tarin, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore." My eyes widened as I realized I was staring at a legend, and staring I was. After all, I was only ten.
"Pleased to meet you, sir," I managed to get out, and shook his hand. I think he knew what was going through my head, but he was really nice anyway. It did not matter though; Mercy quickly whisked me away to be introduced to the other teachers.
It turned out that Professor Flitwick was the Charms teacher and head of Ravenclaw, Professor Narrio was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and head of Hufflepuff, Professor Keeler was the Arithmancy teacher and head of Slytherin, and Professor McGonagall was the Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor. Mercy did not like her very much, mainly because it was Mercy's one goal to become head of Gryffindor. Narrio was an old lady who knew her subject very well and nothing else. Keeler was a middle-aged man who said his two favorite things were flirting and plotting world dominion, though I think he simply had a sense of humor. However, by far the most interesting was the Potions Mistress.
She was a young lady, only twenty, who had graduated from Hogwarts just two years ago. She was new to Hogwarts as a professor, and very excited about being there. A former Ravenclaw, she had dedicated almost her whole seventh year to Potions, and what little time was left she used supporting her house. She had dyed her hair Ravenclaw blue, but it was pretty, not outlandish. She had hazel eyes and was clearly more used to being student than professor. She treated me more like a friend than anything. I had a crush on her the moment I laid eyes on her.
"Professor Gauvreau, hello," she said when we entered the dungeon.
"It is Mercy now, Geranium," Mercy said. "You too are a professor. This is my oldest child, Tarin. He is starting Hogwarts this year. Tarin, this is Professor David." Geranium David grinned at me. I smiled back, but did not trust myself to speak.
For the next month, I was pretty much allowed to wander free around the school. The teachers had to get ready for classes and students, but Geranium seemed to take a liking to me. We were the closest to each other's ages, I supposed. This was fine by me. Geranium asked me to call her by her first name and generally acted more like a student than a professor. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying Hogwarts... a lot. The one month went by far too fast.
At last it was the day the students were to arrive. I would greet them at the door with Professor McGonagall, and then join them for the Sorting and in general act like a normal student. I was terrified. Nervously, I followed Minerva to the great doors, and soon three knocked were heard. The moment of truth, I though in terror as Minerva reached for the handle.