Why the hell am I not in Slytherin, again?
If there is anything this life taught me, it's that the people in this world are so gullible. They believe everything, just everything, without even thinking. McGonagall and Dumbledore, maybe Snape too- though I'm not entirely convinced about him- seemed like the only ones with a functioning brain cell. Voldemort? Don't even get me started. He is supposed to be this all-powerful Dark Lord, yet he couldn't even vanquish a teenage schoolboy. Made up stupid plans to just kill a boy. Totally out of character for someone who fancies himself a genius.
So, when the garlic guy said his turban was a gift from an African prince for fighting off a zombie, everyone believed him. Seamus was head over heels and would have followed him around if not for the nasty smell. Seriously, do they know what garlic smells like? If that was garlic, then garlic smells like dead fish in formaldehyde. I wonder how long Voldemort had been wandering around Albania without bathing. Does he bathe at all? Imagine Lord Voldemort in a tub taking a bath.
Honestly, it was a long piece of cloth anyone would've bought from a fabric shop. I have seen my uncles wearing similar ones all the time. It didn't even look like an 'African' prince gifted him. So, obviously, I had to ask.
"Professor, which African country was the prince from?"
"Professor, what was the prince's name?"
And
"Professor, didn't the tribe have their own magical systems to deal with zombies?"
Quirrell didn't answer any of them. Clearly, neither Voldemort nor Quirrell had knowledge of basic geography and culture. That's canon, you can quote me on this.
"Sir, what you are doing is cultural appropriation. Adopting minority cultures just like that? That's offensive." I added at the end of the class. Quirrell took 20 points from Gryffindor for that. Worth every point, in my opinion. Hermione glared at me from the front row for losing the points she earned for answering questions about the nocturnal abilities of vampires. But who cares? Gryffindor is going to win the house cup anyway.
I spent the rest of the day "educating" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Fay about how Quirrell was appropriating native cultures. They brushed it off as my overthinking. Ron said, "Quirrell would take an hour to say 'cultural appropriation' with all that stammering." Fay nodded along and later planned our escape route if everyone in Hogwarts turned into zombies.
Quirrell is amazing in his skills to manipulate people. I don't come even close to it. But I still tried my best.
Flitwick was the easiest to manipulate. He was teaching us about the importance of wand movements and demonstrated levitation charms for example. I just had to pretend to follow his lead to levitate my quill. The next thing I knew, I was a "charms prodigy" and re-earned the points I lost. I earned Flitwick's favourite student title quite easily on my very first day.
Hermione quizzed me the entire day on how I did that charm so easily, but I didn't give it away. She only stopped interrogating me because of the history classes with Hufflepuffs.
Ron Weasley was a rather gullible and short-tempered kid. He had been keeping his distance from me on the first day of class.I had a guess about what he might be thinking, so I asked Harry after the first Charms class to confirm.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, something about, uh, your family being full of Death Eaters? And, like, a mass murder or something? But listen, Tara, that can't be true. You're not like that, Remus is not like that."
"Well, they aren't exactly untrue. My family was full of dark wizards and witches. And Remus isn't my real uncle too. He is my father's friend."
"Oh."
"So, your family hates muggles? But you said that you grew up with muggles" Fay who walked beside me asked.
"Well, my father's side were not good people. They are all gone now. I am raised by my mum's family. She was a muggle-born."
"What about your father?" asked Fay.
"He's... not around right now. I can't talk about it now…. But I promise I'll tell you both the whole story soon. Just not today..." We walked down the corridor toward History class, only to find ourselves at a dead-end door. "Looks like we're lost. Again."
"I'm not following you anymore. This is the third time today. At this rate, we'll never make it to class," Fay groaned. Luckily for us, Prefect Percy strolled by and accompanied us to Binns' class before it started.
Maybe Harry told him, But Ron started behaving normally again. Back in the common room that day, I also convinced Ron that we both were related since his grandmother was also Black and should stick together no matter what. Poor boy. He paled first at the prospect of being related to a family full of dark wizards but quickly loosened up with my declaration of camaraderie.
"So, are we like, cousins?" asked Ron giving me a small doubtful smile.
"Yeah, I think so. But we don't have to call each other cousins or anything. If we do that, I'd end up calling at least half the castle cousin." Even my own birth father is my cousin. That is… very unsettling.
Ron seemed to beam about his newfound cousinship when he said good night as we parted ways. How quick it was to change Ron's opinion about something!
Draco Malfoy was another one of such people. He is not only enamoured by his family values from such a small age, but he also believes people when someone says things to him with much conviction. Let me demonstrate it for you.
On the first day, he approached me as I was walking through the entrance hall after breakfast. He seemed eager to know about me when he asked, "Are you actually a Black?"
I simply replied no, I'm brown, smiled at him confidently and went back to Gryffindor table to join Fay. I didn't see his expression, but I knew his doubt was satisfied for a while when he didn't approach me for a few days. That was until the double potions class on Friday. Draco approached me again after the class and asked why I had lied about being a Brown when Snape did call me Black.
"I am clearly brown. Why would Snape even call me black? Are your senses alright?" I told him and sighed sympathetically as he stood there furrowing his eyebrows at me.
The next day, I overheard a blonde Slytherin boy saying Draco went to get his ears checked at the hospital wing. It wasn't my intention to be that insensitive. But hey, it worked.
But mind you, there are a few people my charm didn't work on. One was, as I told you already- McGonagall. She would give us occasional stares when Fay and I tried to turn our matches into needles at the back of the class, with only half-success.
Another was Binns, for obvious reasons. But strangely, he didn't give me the fright that the Bloody Baron did. I wonder if he realizes he's a ghost himself. Still, his class wasn't as boring as some university lectures I've sat through. History was surprisingly bearable. I even started to develop a bit of a fondness for it, along with Astronomy. Sinistra was a sweet person, and the view from the tower during Astronomy lessons was simply breathtaking. No wonder people go up there for snogging sessions.
The final one was indeed Snape who was as intimidating as ever. In the first class, Snape, as usual, went on with his "Harry Potter, Our New Celebrity" poetry, though Harry managed to answer the last two questions correctly. It seemed my week-long warnings about Snape to Harry had paid off.
I half-expected Snape to make a snide remark about my presence, but Fay and I had arrived early, secured the very last seat at the back and partnered up with each other for the practical. A Potter and a Black sitting together might not do well with Snape's traumas.
Throughout the class, I mostly kept to myself, only breaking my silence when Fay whispered, "Why is Snape asking Harry Potter NEWT-level questions?", "How does Granger know everything?" and "Does he ever wash his hair?". I could only shrug and mutter, "I don't know." My other contribution was advising Seamus to turn off the fire before adding porcupine quills to Neville's cauldron. Thus, we managed to get through the lesson without any significant mishaps, both material and mental.
After the last class of the week, Fay, Parvati, Lavender, and I made plans to tour the castle during the weekend. We invited Hermione to join us. She initially hesitated, citing her need to read and complete homework, the same excuse she had for not joining us throughout the week when we girls rounded up for redecorating the dorm room. But a little coaxing with, "I thought we could all hang out together on weekends, as friends." The last magic word was enough for Hermione to loosen up. Too easy.
One where simple words and acts can't do the charm, we must use negotiation. That was what I did that day when I ticked the first agenda off my First Year Checklist. This involved certain redheads who were approaching me as I was setting out to search for them in the pitch on Friday evening.
"There you are! Just the guys I need," I said as I caught up to Fred and George.
"Black, Lost again ?" Fred or George- I will never know- said.
"It's Tara, and yes I'm always lost, which is why I was looking for you both." I continued, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you two probably have something that could help a directionally challenged first-year like me, right?."
"We got no idea what you are talking about." said one of them acting innocent
"Not a clue."- the other one said
"Oh, come on guys, I checked the Filch's office in secret already, because Filch was the last one who had it, but found nothing." That was an obvious lie.
They looked at each other, and one said, "You checked Filch's office?!"
"And came empty-handed. But it got me thinking. The only ones who could've nicked anything useful would be you two. You know about all the secret passages and ways. I mean, it's so obvious."
The twins exchanged a look, their expressions unreadable.
"Us? Nicking things?"
"Why, we're just innocent students."
"Look, I know about the Marauder's Map."
They exchanged another glance, this time with a hint of amusement.
One shrugged. "Marauder's Map? Never heard of it."
"Must be imagining things, Black."
"Tara,", I grunted, "Look, I'm serious. I know the map and I know it's with you two. And I wouldn't be asking to borrow it if I didn't have a wicked offer in return."
That piqued their interest
One leaned in, intrigued. "What's your wicked offer?"
"Two bits of info," I declared, holding up two fingers. "One: I know who made the map, and maybe I can even introduce you to one of them! Imagine the stories they could tell! Two: There's a secret room in this castle, even you two haven't stumbled upon it yet. A room filled with all sorts of whatnots, I reckon."
"We know all the places in this castle."
"Absolutely. All of them." Said the other
"I know, but this one is hidden. It never appears on the map."
The twins exchanged a glance, still not fully convinced.
They leaned back "Sounds like you're pulling our leg."
I shrugged. "What if I show you the room? Then, you let me borrow the map. I'll give it back after my needs are done."
They looked at each other. "I think we should see this room. If it exists, you've got a deal. And no first-year fibs."
"No fibs," I declared, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "Let's not waste time then. You both are free, right?
Both nodded in unison.
"Brilliant. Let's go right now. This must be somewhere on the seventh floor. You guys know the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, right?"
They both nodded again.
"Excellent," I said, a playful smile on my lips. "Well, I don't. So, lead the way, gentlemen!"Allowing them to take the lead, we walked to the seventh floor. This is brutal, making a castle this big with moving staircases and expecting us to walk every single day for kilometres. They really should make magical lifts or something. After a nightmarish walk, we reached the tapestry of poor Barnabus trying to train trolls for the ballet.
"Alright, you two stay put here and keep an eye out," I instructed, lowering my voice. "No one else should know about this room."
They nodded, their eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of movement.
Taking a deep breath, I faced the wall in front of the tapestry. "Alright, Hogwarts," I muttered under my breath, "let's do this." Here goes nothing, I thought, hoping my plan would work.
"As you know, I genuinely need the map," I whispered, directing my words to the ancient castle itself. "This room...it's the key to impressing the Weasleys and borrowing the map. It's the key to getting things done. Please, Hogwarts, let it appear."
As I paced back and forth for the fourth time, muttering pleas, I saw a faint shimmer on the wall. The stone began to shift and creak, revealing a massive door adorned with intricate carvings. The Room of Requirement.
"Merlin's beard," one of the twins breathed behind me, a mix of awe and surprise in his voice.
I grinned and pushed open the door. The room reminded me of those places that I'd seen in Diagon Alley.
The twins' jaws dropped, their eyes wide with astonishment. "Blimey," one of them breathed. "This...this is incredible!"
"What is this place?" the other asked.
"The Room of Requirement, at your service."
"Room of Requirement, you say?"
"How did you conjure it?" the other twin asked.
"I didn't conjure it. It always existed here. Appears whenever someone needs something bad enough, and poof! It transforms to fit the occasion.
"So this room showed up because you needed..." one started.
"To borrow your little map and totally impress you two," I finished with a wink. "Seems it worked, eh?"
One snorted. "Blimey, this has been here this whole time? Practically under our noses? We basically live on this floor!"
"Easy to miss what you're not looking for," I said with a shrug.
"How did you know about this?" one twin asked.
"Just heard from someone."
"Is this someone related to the Marauders?"
"No, that's someone else."
The room was stocked with joke materials—new prank books, colourful hats that I have no clue what does, and a variety of things that I don't even know. But the twins seemed to know all about it as I saw them going around taking and inspecting them one by one. Among the books were some intriguing volumes on time travel and reincarnation, topics that piqued my interest. I selected a couple of books and another item that stood nearby, something I knew I would need in the near future.
"The room does give us what we need," I mused aloud, more to myself than to the twins.
Before we headed back to the dormitory, They tossed me the Marauder's Map, a silent "here you go, but you owe us big time" hanging in the air.
"Sweet," I mumbled, shoving the map into my pocket with a grin. This baby is gonna be a game-changer.
Back in the Gryffindor common room, I kicked off my shoes and sent off my owls (gotta keep up appearances, you know?). Flicking off the lamp, I whipped out the map, and muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.". With that, the entire Hogwarts began to map out right on that parchment. And let me tell you, it was vast and confusing—like, worse-than- GPS confusing.
Anyway, I finally spotted myself on the map, a little dot labelled "Tara Black" in a corner in Gryffindor Girls dormitory. It took me another hour to study it in its entirety. This was pure magic—like, next-level brilliance.
"This is incredible," I muttered to myself. "I should really ask Remus if there's any way to make a copy of this or if we could improvise it further."
The next week flew by in a blur of homework, exploring the castle, and, most importantly, finding the kitchen and befriending the house elves. They had the best snacks, hands down. I also learnt how to play Exploding Snap from the master of all things explosives, Seamus Finnigan himself. Dodging Draco Malfoy became a daily sport, especially after he seemed to figure out I was playing him.
I managed to stay under the radar of all the professors except for Flitwick and Sinistra, both of whom I had developed a fondness for within a week. I also got used to the corridors and staircases of the castle by now, thanks to the map. My favourite spots were the waterfalls and bridges—especially the suspension bridge. Throwing stones down the ravine while venting about class and homework with girls had quickly become my favourite pastime. For some quiet time, the West Tower Battlements were perfect Surprisingly deserted despite being right next to the Owlery, they offered a breathtaking view of the Hogwarts grounds. Charlie and Anne loved it there too.
The week also marked what I dubbed "Hogwarts Going Haywire Week." Notice boards were filled with notifications for Quidditch trials, club memberships, study groups, Dumbledore's Friday homework help sessions, and, of course, auditions for the Frog Choir and orchestra. The last two were strictly for third years and above, which I found incredibly unfair. I mean, Harry got to join the Quidditch team in his first year. But the rest of us are left in the dust. I had half a mind to bring it up with Flitwick. Regardless, I decided to attend the auditions at the end of the month, at least to get a sneak peek at how it is done.
Meanwhile, flying classes came by and as usual, Neville's broom malfunctioned and Harry and Draco did what they usually do. Nevertheless, we continued the flying class. I quite liked it. It is a useful skill.
"Why doesn't this school even have proper brooms?" Fay lamented as we returned from flying lessons.
"And Hogwarts is supposed to be the best school for magic," I added, shaking my head.
"It is" Hermione interjected. "Even Merlin studied here and our headmaster is Professor Dumbledore, who is the greatest wizard in the world." Ah, Hermione, ever the Dumbledore enthusiast.
Fay rolled her eyes. "Sure, sure."
"I'm more concerned about why Madam Hooch didn't just use magic to stop Neville's broom," I pondered aloud.
"That's... a good point," Hermione admitted, adjusting her bag.
"I wonder what McGonagall will do about Harry," she mused.
"Oh, yes, I'm sure McGonagall will just give Potter a pat on the back and make him Quidditch captain for such flying skills," Fay said, rolling her eyes.
I couldn't help but be impressed by Fay's uncanny prediction. "Fay Dunbar, are you a Seer?" I asked, genuinely curious.
She grinned and gave me a shrug. "Maybe I am, Maybe I am not. Who knows?"
"Well, they definitely broke the rules disobeying Madam Hooch like that," Hermione interjected. "They should get some kind of punishment."
"Maybe they will, Hermione," I said, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Anyway," I continued, turning to Fay, "flying wasn't bad at all."
Fay nodded in agreement. Hermione sighed, a little downcast. "I suppose. It just...didn't quite work for me today."
"Don't worry about it," I encouraged her. "Flying takes practice and confidence. Just believe you can do it, and you will."
When we reached the common room, Ron, Parvati, Seamus, and Dean were all explaining Harry Potter's greatest epic flying quest to the other Gryffindors. At the centre sat Neville, still clutching onto the Remembrall and looking relieved. He gave me a quick smile and scooted over to make room for me. I listened to their stories and talked with Neville about the Herbology homework from the other day. He was always helpful, suggesting a stack of extra books for me to refer to. So, I sincerely tried to help him by casting an Immobulus as his broom started to take off, but I couldn't. Instead, I did a Spongify on the ground as he fell. At least his wrist was saved, and the broom was changed. Madam Hooch just nodded and went to get another broom, telling us to stay on the ground until she returned.
Dinner that night was all about Harry. He sat beside me, practically vibrating with excitement as he told us how Professor McGonagall had made him a Gryffindor Quidditch Seeker. The Weasleys practically cheered him to the rafters, and I joined in with a genuine "Congrats."
But then, Malfoy entered, much to Harry's annoyance, and challenged him to a duel. Ron immediately volunteered to be his second. Harry blinked, looking between Ron and Draco. I didn't try to involve myself in the conversation, although I was itching to tell Draco something. I made a mental note of the things I should tell him now, but I swallowed them. This wasn't my issue to get involved in.
I knew the duel wouldn't happen, but decided not to interfere. It was part of their growing up. I'd already disrupted Neville's... best not to get involved.
But then again, a warning wouldn't hurt, would it?
So, I tried to subtly warn Ron not to trust Draco and that he was seeking revenge, but Ron ignored me, just as he ignored Hermione. Kids.
Fine. Subtlety failed. Time for Tara's special brand of tough love. With a sigh, I said to both Ron and Harry, "Oh, brilliant! Just remember who to blame when you're stuck cleaning cauldrons with Snape for a month because of this little stunt." There was a hint of satisfaction in my voice – a tiny payback for ignoring me, and hopefully a wake-up call for their recklessness.
As midnight approached, Hermione slipped out of the dormitory "to try and prevent those two from getting Gryffindor into trouble again," as she put it. I followed her, watching as Harry and Ron left the common room.
Well, it was the perfect time to steal something and execute Plan Number 1.
Opportunities like this were hard to come by.