There All Along

There All Along: Tara Black, the daughter of the infamous Sirius Black, embarks on her journey through the corridors of Hogwarts and finds herself entwined in destiny, in more ways than she even realizes, with a boy named Harry Potter. Determined to make a name for herself, she will have to grapple with the legacy of her father, her family, and the darkness that is slowly rising all while mastering her magical powers. Currently on Book 1 of 7. 

Rating: M for mature. Harry Potter gets dark fairly quickly. 

Word Count: 4,177

Author’s Note:  Still hate the summary, and I am working on it. 

Update schedule? Who? The school year has started and we don’t know them. But, inspiration has struck, so here is chapter 3!

We’ll hopefully start picking up the pace and plot after this chapter, but we are still introducing character dynamics here. 

Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Chapter 3 - Book 1: Sortings and Feasts

Hours later, sky darkened, the train was pulling up at a small, wooden platform in Hogsmeade, a completely magical village located next to Hogwarts. Tara, now dressed in her Hogwarts robes with her pink trainers, followed behind Ron and Harry as they exited onto the platform, a large smile on her face and a nervous pull in her stomach. 

“We’re here! I can’t believe we’re finally here!” She exclaimed, bouncing in place from between both boys as they were jostled around by the other students on the platform. 

“First years! First years this way!” a voice boomed from the other end of the platform, “First years follow me!” Tara, Ron, and Harry weaved through the crowd, others joining them, as they moved towards the voice. At the end of the platform, Hagrid with his brown coat and wild, scraggly hair was smiling down at them all. “Hiya Harry, Tara, right along this path now.”

“Woah,” Ron muttered, “that is the biggest man I have ever seen. You two know him?” 

“That’s Hagrid, Hogwarts’ Gamekeeper. He took me to Diagon Alley to get my school things, even brought my letter to me when my Aunt and Uncle refused to let me read it,” Harry confirmed, waving at the man who winked at him as he gestured down the path to the first years who were nervously gathering.  

“And I met him there too,” Tara added. The group of kids walked around a bend in the path and came to a dock that had a bunch of small, wooden boats moored. 

“No more than 4 to a boat, in you get” Hagrid directed from behind them. 

Ron, Tara, and Harry grabbed a boat and were joined, to Ron and Tara’s displeasure, by Hermione. Neville and another group were in the boat next to them. Tara offered the other boy a smile as he struggled to hold onto his pet frog that he had found. After a few minutes where everyone scrambled into boats, a few muttering as they almost slipped, Hagrid got into one on his own at the very front of the group. 

“Everyone set? Good,” he held up a large lantern in his hand that cast a glow among the group, “Forward!” And every single boat began to move across the black water with no help from its occupants. 

“I love magic,” Harry muttered from beside Tara, who grinned at him in response. 

“I wonder why we have to go by boat?” Hermione asked, a nervous edge to her voice, from beside Ron in the back of the boat. “Isn’t this dangerous, especially at night? It’s practically pitch black out here.”

“It’s so we can get our first glimpse of-” Tara started to explain, but was cut off by Hargrid whose boat was beginning to turn around a bend in the water, his form being hidden for a moment before everyone else started around the bend as well, gasps ringing out in the night.

“You’ll get your first glimpse of Hogwarts now!”

“Wow,” Ron murmured. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Tara sighed, her excited grin softening to a more gentle smile as the large castle came into view of their boat. On a hill, at the other side of the lake, stood a large stone castle with four tall towers, a few smaller ones, high walls, and many bright, glowing windows. The grounds sprawled in the starry moonlight to reveal a large, dark forest, a wooden structure in the distance, and a boat dock. However, they weren’t going towards the dock. Their boats were moving directly towards the large, broadside wall of the castle, which hung over the lake. 

“Mind your head,” Hagrid called, ducking under the gap of stone hanging, none of them needed to as the man was so much larger than the first years, and they eventually, after several minutes, all came out on the other side to a round stone room, lit by lanterns, and a stone stairway that went directly down, into the water. “Okay, one at the time, let’s get you out.”

It was a slow process, but one by one the boats of first years were pulled, magically, to the stairs and the four in the boat would scramble from it and up the stairs, doing their best not to trip and fall into the water. Eventually, they were all bunched together at the top of the stairs. “Everyone here?” Hagrid looked over the group of eleven year olds with his shining, beetle-black eyes, nodded to himself, turned and knocked on the wooden door loudly. A moment later, the doors opened and another figure emerged. “First years, Professor McGonagall.” 

“Yes, thank you Hagrid,” the other teacher was an older woman dressed in long, deep emerald witches robes, a matching witches hat that sat slanted on her head, dark hair beginning to gray pulled back in a tight, severe bun at the base of her neck, and small, wire-rimmed glasses that framed narrow, green eyes. “This way, please.” 

She led them all into a well lit room, “Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few short moments, when the other students have settled, we will take you in and you will be sorted into your Hogwarts house.” She gave them all a stern look, “while you are here, your house will be like your family. You will represent them, and the school, in everything you do, earning and losing points for your house. Now please, straighten yourselves, I will see if they are ready for us.” She frowned at Neville, whose tie wasn’t tied correctly, and another girl with dark hair whose robes weren’t buttoned closed. 

 “They sort us, in front of everyone?” Harry asked, a nervous look on his face as he turned towards Ron and Tara, wondering why they didn’t mention it, or why they hadn’t explained how the sorting worked. 

“Mum, Dora, nor anyone in my family would tell me how we are sorted,” Tara offered, bouncing in place again. “Apparently it’s some big secret.”

“George said we’ll have to fight a troll,” Ron offered, his face appearing a little green. 

“No way,” Tara replied, shaking her head, eyes wide, “we don’t know any spells, there is no way that we have to fight something. I wonder-” 

However, before she could finish, Professor McGonagall reappeared, a small smile on her face, “we are ready for you now. Please form two lines and follow me.” 

There was nervous chatter in the rush to form lines. Harry ended up in front of Tara, with Ron behind her. A few moments later, the two lines of nervous and excited first years were following behind the older witch as she led them through a doorway, across a hall and through large, ornate wooden doors where loud chatter was coming from. As soon as they started making their way in, the chatter fell to small whispers and silence, all the eyes of the older students on the first years. The great hall was filled with four long wooden tables, one for each house Tara assumed, and lit by what appeared to be thousands of floating candles in a night sky. Tara wiggled nervously, they really were going to be sorted in front of everyone. This is a nightmare, why didn’t Mum or Uncle Remmy warn me? Everyone is gonna know who I am…. Tara stumbled, offering Harry a small, nervous, apologetic smile when she accidentally bumped into him, not having been paying attention to them coming to a stop. 

Before them, slightly raised above the four long tables, was a stone stage where the teachers of Hogwarts sat, each one in different colored robes that ranged from bright blues and purples to grays and black. Before them, still on the platform, was a wooden stool which a very looking old, tattered witches hat sat on. The hall was quiet, everyone looking at the hat which caused the nervous first years to as well, before it suddenly came to life, the brim ripping open as if it had a mouth. It began to sing in, strangely, a male voice:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means,

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!" 

The hat fell silent and the hall erupted into a applause, half of the first years joining in hesitantly 

“When I call your name,” Professor McGonagall called, stepping up beside the stool, “you will step forward, take a seat, and I will place the sorting hat onto your head. You will be sorted into your house, they are either Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Slytherin. Then you will join your housemates at their table.” She motioned to first the hat then each table that had banners of their color hanging about them. She unrolled her parchment and called, “Hannah Abbott!” 

A slightly heavier set girl with dirty blond pigtails and square glasses stepped forward from her place in line, a nervous look on her face as she walked towards the stool. She quickly took a seat and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head, which would have fallen over her eyes if it wasn’t for her glasses. About a minute later, the hat came alive again and called out loudly for everyone to hear: “Hufflepuff!” And the middle table on the right loudly cheered and clapped, gold and black ties flashing for their new housemate who grinned shyly and joined them quickly from the stage. 

Please let there be someone else, Tara thought, closing her eyes as she realized they were going in order by last name, please let there be at least one more before they call me. Just one more-

“Tara Black!” The clapping stopped and it seemed as if all the noise in the hall stopped. Tara stood frozen momentarily, eyes still closed, finding her nerve as just moments later, whispers started up. 

“Did she say Black?”

“As in that house and his daughter?”

“Why even bother with a sorting, we know where their sort goes.”

Ignore them, Tara thought in a voice that sounded oddly like her mother, taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and stepping forward out of line. She didn’t look back, not wanting to see anyone's faces, and instead walked forward, up the steps, and sat down on the stool as gracefully as possible. Professor McGonagall placed the hat onto her head, and the sheer volume of her curls kept it from covering her eyes. She let her eyes flicker about the hall, finding Harry’s green and he offered her a small smile, and then Ron’s blue, but he was frowning at her. She didn’t have time to look at anyone else, as a voice started talking to her in her head.

“Ah, Tara Black, quite a conundrum we have here, where to put you, where to put you…” She jumped lightly, not expecting the voice and closed her eyes, “Your mother was a surprise for me, and herself I’m sure, the Selwyn family had been in Slytherin since its creation, much like the Blacks, until your parents were both placed in Gryffindor. Hmm, you could do well in Slytherin, I’m sure…but it just doesn’t quite fit. You're ambitious, of course you are, but there is something else I see there as well. Something that needs nurturing and room to grow that Slytherin or the other houses may not provide. Yes, I think I know just what to do with you, there simply is no other choice than - “Gryffindor!” The last word called aloud to the hall and Tara opened her eyes, a smile coming back to her face as a knot she didn’t even know existed eased in her chest. 

Professor McGonagall took the hat from her head, offering the girl a small smile as well, and then motioned for her to join her new table and housemates. There was clapping, but the applause was not as loud as Abbott’s had been. Tara chose to ignore the less than welcoming greeting, rushing to sit at the table, so excited to have been placed into the same house as her mother and Uncle were, and not in Slytherin. She turned to watch the rest of the sorting as Trevor Boot was called forward and sorted into Ravenclaw a moment later and then more students. 

Lavender Brown was the next to join Gryffindor, and she sat across from Tara, offering the girl an excited grin as their new house cheered and clapped loudly. They were also eventually joined by Seamus Finnegan, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Eloise Midgen, and Parvati Patil, all of whom decided to sit on the opposite side of Tara. She clapped and cheered for them all, trying to ignore the sting that was developing in her chest. And then finally, Harry was called to be sorted. 

She watched as the small boy walked forward, a nervous slouch in his shoulders. She waited with baited breath as it seemed to take minutes for the hat to decide what house he belonged in. And then, finally it announced: “Gryffindor!”  

  The table erupted into loud cheers, echoing cries of “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Tara stood up to cheer as well, a giant grin on her face as the now slightly red faced boy, shocked at the level of cheering, ran to quickly join their table. He was the first one to sit beside the young girl, who gave him an excited hug as he sat down. “Congrats Harry! I knew you’d be in Gryffindor,” the boy grinned at her in response, pleased, and a little embarrassed based on his ears going a little red, at her response. 

Minutes later, with only a few students left and Dean Thomas joining their table on Tara’s other side, the sorting was almost over. Ron was one of the last ones called forward and joined them minutes later at Gryffindor, his brothers along the table cheering the loudest. He joined on Harry’s other side, smiling at the boy. And then there was just Blaise Zabini who joined Slytherin, the far left table, and the storting was finished. 

Professor McGonagall grabbed the stool and hat, moving off to the side as an older wizard sitting in the middle of the teachers table stood. He was wearing deep purple wizards robes that sparkled with silver and golden stars and a matching hat, golden horn-rimmed glasses, and had long stark white, waist length hair and matching beard. He was beaming at them all, his arms open wide as if nothing more could please him than to see them all. This was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.

“Welcome!” he called. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I have just a few words for you all. They are: nitwit! Oddment! Tweak!” His glasses flashed in the candlelight, “Thank you!” And he sat back down, everyone cheering and clapping as he did. Tara was laughing, joining in on the applause. 

“Is he a bit mad?” Harry asked, confused, clapping half-heartedly. 

“Mad?” Percy, Ron’s older brother who was sitting just a few students over from the first years, asked airily, “He’s a genius! One of the most inventive and successful wizards in the world! But yes, he can be a bit mad. Potatoes, Harry?” 

“Or a roll?” Tara offered, eyes widening as she, and most of her fellow first years, took note that while Dumbledore was talking, the golden platters that were once empty on the table were now piled high with mounds of delicious food. She grabbed some roasted potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, a thick slice of chicken-pie, and two warm, fragrant yeast rolls, all of which she drizzled with dark, thick gravy. She eagerly took a bite, realizing how hungry she was, and released a pleased sound. 

“I love my mum’s cooking, but Merlin’s pants is this delicious,” she sighed, “could you pass the pumpkin juice, Percy?” The older red-haired boy with glasses looked a little shocked at being addressed by her, but quickly recovered and passed her the pitcher of golden juice. “Thank you,” she gave the boy a smile, pouring some into her golden goblet, Harry’s, and Dean’s for them as well as both boys were quickly piling food onto their plates and into their mouths. “I can’t wait to write home to Mum and Uncle Remmy about making it into Gryffindor!” She took a bite of potatoes. 

“And they’ll be happy about that? A Black,” Ron spoke for the first time since the feast began, chicken leg in hand and an odd look on his face, “in Gryffindor?” 

Tara looked at the boy, ignoring how those around them went silent at the boy’s words, “Sure!” She began, choosing to smile at him despite a sharp, uncomfortableness in her chest, “Mum was a Gryffindor herself when she went to Hogwarts, so was my uncle. Dora, my cousin,” she continued, “may be a little disappointed,” she took another bite of potatoes, “she really wanted me to be a Hufflepuff like she was.” 

“My-my grandmother,” Neville spoke nervously, looking at the girl with a small smile on his face, “is gonna be surprised and happy as well, my family didn’t think I would be in Gryffindor like my parents were. They thought for sure I would be in Hufflepuff.”  

“I’m sure she’s going to be so proud Neville,” Tara replied, smiling at the larger boy. “I mean, I wouldn’t have minded being in Hufflepuff, but Gryffindor is the best house by far. Did you want some juice?” She offered to pour the boy some juice in his goblet, which caused him to flush lightly. He nodded. 

“I wouldn’t have reminded Ravenclaw, the hat almost put me there,” Hermione spoke up, “but this is the house Dumbledore was in, so I don’t mind it either.” 

“Honestly,” Dean Thomas, a tall, thin, dark-skinned boy spoke from the other side of Tara, “I’m just glad to be here. I didn’t know anything about all of this before Professor Flitwick showed up at my door at the beginning of summer. Thought my mum was gonna faint.”

“You’re muggle born?” Tara asked, eager to talk about the muggle world. The boy shrugged, 

“If that means my mum is not a witch, sure. I don’t know about my dad, he ran off before I was born,” he said. Tara offered a sympathetic smile.

“My,” she took a deep breath before continuing, knowing she may have been opening herself up for a difficult discussion, “Don’t worry, my dad is a git too. I haven’t seen him since I was a baby myself, can’t remember his face or anything. I don’t care to either, to be honest. Yes, muggle born means you don’t have magical parents.” 

Before anyone could respond to her, more than a few gasps and squeals filled the Great Hall as more than half a dozen translucent figures floated through walls and up through tables: the Ghosts of Hogwarts. Tara watched with wide eyes as a ghost floated through a plate of chicken that Ron was reaching for. She knew of ghosts but had never seen one before. The ghost had an elaborate tunic with a ruffled collar, a bushy mustache, and wild, curly hair; all, of course, were pearly transparent. 

“Ah, Good evening Sir Nicohlas,” Percy said, “Did you have a good summer?” 

“I know you!” Ron blurted, still holding his chicken leg, “Bill and Charlie told me all about you, you’re Nearly-Headless nick!” The ghost lost the pleasant smile his face had gained at Percy’s question to a frown as he eyed the youngest Weasley. 

“I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don’t mind,” the ghost sniffed pompously 

“Nearly-Headless, how can you be Nearly-Headless?” Hermione asked, eyes and nose scrunched in confusion. 

The ghost sighed in exasperation. “Like this,” and lifted one translucent hand, grabbed his hair, and pulled. The table, at least the first-years, gasped as his head fell sideways, connected to his neck with a sliver of skin as if on a hinge. 

“Wicked!” Ron and Tara exclaimed in amazement. The ghost just snapped his head back on straight, sniffed, and floated further along down the table, clearly done with them. 

“That is the Ghost of Gryffindor, very helpful,” Percy said, a frown on his face as his younger brother’s callousness, “So be kind. He often helps first years like yourself find their way when lost in the castle, and you don’t want to upset him.” 

Ron went pink around the ears, grumbling as he finally started eating his chicken. Tara just smiled sheepishly and went back to her food as well. Conversation resumed amongst the first-years, introducing themselves and getting to know each other. Tara tried to talk to the girls on the other side of the table, but other than them introducing themselves, Parvati and Lavender whispered amongst themselves, shooting her sideways looks as they ate, Eloise appeared to be completely absorbed in her food, and Hermione was engaged in conversation about classes with Percy, not that she would want to talk to the girl anyway. She was still sore about her attitude on the train. 

“Ouch!” Harry gasped from beside her. She turned towards him just in time to see him raise a hand towards his scar. 

“Harry, what is it?” She asked, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder as he rubbed at his scar, gaze set on the teachers table. 

“It’s nothing, it just suddenly flared in pain,” he said. 

“Has that happened before?” Ron asked, joining the conversation.

“No…” he trailed off, “Percy,” he turned to the older red-haired boy, “Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” 

“That’s Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house and Potions master. Nasty temper, but he is brilliant at his craft.” 

Tara looked past Harry to see if she could spot who they were talking about, and saw that one of the teachers was staring at their table. He was an older man, he looked about her mum’s age, if not a few years older, with shoulder length, greasy black hair, black wizards robes, and an emotionless expression on his face. She jumped lightly when his black eyes locked with her brown and his face transformed into a harsh, snarling glare directed  directly at her. 

“Tara?” Tara broke eye contact, confusion growing in her chest. He had so much hatefulness in his eyes, and they were directed at her. She was sure she had never met the teacher before, and despite who her father was, was it really possible for someone to despise her without actually knowing who she was. And he was one of her teachers…. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern on his face and in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tara replied, offering her friend an uncertain smile, “I wonder what his problem is though.” 

“Don’t worry,” Percy said, offering the two first years a smile, “Professor Snape is like that with everyone, it’s nothing personal.”

It sure feels like it, Tara thought, smiling in return at the boy's attempt at comfort. 

“Woah!” Ron said, as the dinner food vanished, plates wiped clean, and moments later platters were overflowing with all kinds of desserts. “Wicked!”

“I love magic.” Harry and Tara said, grinning at each other as they echoed together. Tara reached for a mini-apple pie and Harry reached for a treacle tart, stomachs feeling full from their dinner but also from their new friends and housemates. 

Tara decided she would ignore and push through everyone’s uncomfortableness for tonight. The hat obviously thought she belonged in Gryffindor, and she would prove that s he does as well, by braving everyone’s opinions. As her mother and uncle have repeatedly told her, she had no control over her name or family, only herself. And she was determined to have the best first night and year at Hogwarts, and so far it was going splendidly with Harry by her side and a warm treat on her plate.

She couldn't wait to see her dorm and write to her mum about everything, nor for her classes tomorrow. She was finally going to learn magic!

Quick note: I do NOT like how I ended the chapter, as it feels like a 180 shift and just too perfect, so I may come back and edit it. I just could not find a good stopping point and could have gone on and on and on and on…you get the point.