The Girl Who Lived

The Ravenclaw common room at Hogwarts was an architectural wonder, located in one of the castle’s towers.

Its entrance featured a bronze knocker shaped like an eagle, and if someone asked, Solaris would say it was the best guardian; the bird would give students a riddle, which had to be answered correctly for the passage to open.

The Ravenclaw common room, almost deserted at that moment, stretched out in a wide, circular space. Gracefully arched windows adorned the walls, framed by silk drapes in the distinctive hues of blue and bronze, offering spectacular views of the surrounding mountains.

The vaulted ceiling, adorned with stars that also reflected on the dark blue carpet, gave the room a celestial atmosphere. Among the tables, armchairs, and bookshelves, a niche on the wall opposite the door housed a tall white marble statue, adding a majestic presence to the serene environment.

She described every corner of it in her letter to Kreacher, although she hadn’t told anyone she would write to her house-elf. Her classmates were kind, but Solaris still felt too insecure to share any personal information that might make them like her less.

That morning, Solaris grumbled a bit about waking up, feeling tired, and it was still Thursday of the first week.

The Black didn’t plan on waking up so early, not before getting hit squarely by a pillow and hearing Marlene laugh above her.

"Lene…" she complained, her voice dragging as she sat up.

"Not today, Sol! We have our first flying lesson, remember? We can’t go without breakfast."

"Okay, okay," Solaris said, getting up, her laughter contagious as she quickly changed, the excitement in her eyes. Marlene, already dressed in her uniform, waited with a warm, confident smile, like an anchor in the turbulent emotions of Hogwarts' first days.

She was more than a friend; she was the accomplice from the train compartment to the boat crossing. Having her around was a relief, as the pureblood seemed to be the bravest person Solaris knew, and it made her feel welcomed. She knew no one would mock her mixed-blood status as long as Longbottom could hear it, unlike Walburga.

As they descended to the common room together, each step was a new day of discoveries Solaris could never find in the Black family house.

When they arrived, they found two of their friends waiting. Well, Solaris wasn’t sure if Christopher Thomas considered them friends yet—it was still too early—but the fact that he allowed them to call him “Kit” seemed like a good sign.

Noah, on the other hand, was much more approachable, exuding a friendly shyness that offered understanding and comforting advice during moments of nervousness. He had been raised by a couple of Muggle women and wasn’t sure if his biological parents were wizards or not. Either way, he didn’t seem to mind and liked to talk about his mothers and younger sister.

Marlene and Christopher hadn’t talked about their families much, except for Longbottom’s grandmother. However, Solaris suspected Thomas knew the reason, there was an understanding between them, something Solaris caught in the glances of understanding Christopher cast at his friend. Definitely, the boy knew something the two weren’t ready to share.

The quartet made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Noah teaching them what Muggles called “BSL,” British Sign Language. Solaris enjoyed these moments when they could share something personal, and her friends would still be interested. Perhaps it was one of Ravenclaw’s best traits; their curiosity made them good listeners.

Sitting at their House table, the kids smiled at the generous breakfast laid out before them. Solaris' stomach growled, eliciting laughter from the girls, and everything looked so delicious.

She was on her second glass of pumpkin juice when she saw him: Atlas Jace Galanis-Black, her cousin.

Previously, the girl didn’t know she had close relatives, except for her uncle, Sirius, imprisoned in Azkaban. There were also her father’s cousins, Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Narcissa, and their children, but Sol didn’t have much hope they would like her. It was true that Andromeda was married to a Muggle-born, but that didn’t mean she’d be interested in her half-blood cousin’s daughter.

However, Solaris wasn’t sure how Atlas would react to her approach. For all she knew, his mother’s family was also pureblood. Ravenclaw shared most of its classes with Hufflepuff and only had Transfiguration and Herbology with Gryffindor, so those were some of the best opportunities to talk to him. Not that she had worked up the courage yet.

Her cousin was sitting next to Aidan, both chatting amiably, and the girl wondered if she should ask Bones for help. He had also been on the train and boat with her, along with Marlene and Noah, and was kind, so maybe…

“You want to talk to him,” Christopher commented from across the table, speaking for the first time since they sat down, silencing the other two.

"Hm?" Solaris blinked, her mouth still full of juice.

"Atlas," Thomas clarified, handing her his handkerchief, and Sol didn’t need him to say anything to know her face was likely dirty. "I met him on the train; we’ve talked during free periods. He’ll love it if you talk to him."

"But…" Then she saw it—not a full smile, but a slight tilt at the corners of his lips.

“Atlas just doesn’t want to pressure you. If you want to bond, I’m sure he’ll be willing.”

“I’m sure he’ll love you,” Marlene chimed in next to her, hugging her around the shoulders.

“And don’t be scared because you’re different,” Noah encouraged. “Differences can be good.”

Sol stared at them for a moment, her three companions offering supportive looks, and the girl couldn’t help but smile.

“Then I’ll talk to him! Right after Herbology!” she declared, receiving a playful round of applause.

Solaris had never had much, but now, she had friends.

[...]

Solaris should have approached Atlas during breakfast because all of Herbology passed in a blur, unable to focus on Professor Sprout’s words. Her hands tingled, and Christopher took care to ensure she didn’t injure herself with some of the wilder plants available in the greenhouse.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he chided softly, but there was no malice in his voice.

Atlas was ahead, still in Aidan’s company; the boys laughed together, though Sol noticed him glancing at her occasionally, just as he did with Shaia.

Reflecting on it, there were some rumors about Sirius Black, and she wasn’t sure if she should believe them. Kreacher never mentioned her uncle unless it was to complain about how he had broken his lady’s heart.

“Do you think… he’ll like me?” she asked, and Thomas glanced at her for only a moment before nodding.

“Absolutely.”

With a small smile, she turned her attention back to the lesson, trying to concentrate. When the professor dismissed them, her friends said goodbye, taking her backpack, and promised to wait for her before their next class.

With a burst of courage, she approached when she saw Atlas gathering his things.

“Hm, hi!” Solaris gave him a nervous smile. “Bones!” She waved to the other boy, who waved back.

“Hey, Black! Hm, see you later, Atlas!” Aidan gave his friend a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving them alone.

“So, Solaris, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me! And you’re Atlas.”

“Yes, looks like our names followed the family tradition, huh?” He chuckled softly, making the girl feel more at ease.

Atlas adjusted his backpack strap and, with a casual gesture, invited Solaris to walk with him out of the greenhouse. The sun was starting to cast a golden light across the grounds, creating dancing shadows between the ancient trees.

The Gryffindor smiled at the landscape before turning back to speak with his cousin.

"I know it might feel a bit awkward now. I didn’t know about you, and you probably didn’t know about me?" The last part sounded more like a question, and the girl nodded. "Well, in that case, I’d like for us to get to know each other better. I… really like the idea of having a cousin."

“It’s wonderful to know there’s another Black out there!” Solaris exclaimed, hugging the dark-haired boy, who laughed as he gently patted her hair.

As they walked along the cobbled paths, they began to share stories about their experiences at Hogwarts and their lives before school. Solaris avoided Atlas’ gaze as she spoke about her upbringing in the practically abandoned family house. To her delight, her cousin offered understanding and a few low insults toward Walburga that would have driven Kreacher mad.

Atlas, in turn, told her cheerful stories about his mother and uncle, filled with affection and mischief. Solaris listened attentively, laughing at some comments and feeling increasingly comfortable in his presence. She sensed, however, that there were parts he wasn’t sharing, moments that weren’t so happy left unsaid, but she chose to respect her cousin’s space.

“You’ll get used to it here quickly. Hogwarts is like a second home for many of us,” Atlas said with a friendly smile when the conversation shifted to classes. Due to her nearly nonexistent exposure to the outside world beyond the Black family house, there was much Solaris didn’t know.

“I’m sure it’ll be a home for me too. It already feels like it—the Ravenclaw common room is so beautiful, and my classmates are kind and friendly.” It was true that there were bad people in every house, but Solaris preferred not to dwell on that.

“You know, you have a contagious energy, Solaris. It’s nice being around someone so vibrant,” Atlas commented, and then something seemed to occur to him. “By the way, would it be alright if my mother wrote to you? I’m sure she’d love to get to know you.”

And finally, Solaris felt like she was starting to belong to a family — a real family.

[...]

Under the cloudy sky of the Quidditch pitch, the students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lined up with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Madame Hooch, the instructor, was an imposing figure with a broom expertly balanced in her hand. She taught with an aura of authority and passion for the art of flying that almost distracted the students from their apprehension about falling. Almost.

The rows of students, bright-eyed and with hearts racing, watched as the professor explained how to hold the broom handle. The brooms lay beside the students, eagerly awaiting their turn to soar through the skies.

Solaris had previously heard complaints from some older students about the school brooms, some of which seemed to have minds of their own when reaching high altitudes or, whimsically, pulling sharply to the left. Indeed, they looked a bit old and worn, with some tufts of bristles missing or sticking out at odd angles.

“Extend your right hand over the broom,” commanded Madame Hooch, “and say ‘Up!’”

“UP!” echoed the chorus of students.

Solaris’ broom didn’t respond immediately, but luck didn’t seem to be on everyone’s side. Christopher’s broom was one of the few that had obeyed.

“You’re just nervous,” he whispered to his friends. “It’s alright, wizards have toy brooms from the time they’re just months old, it’s no big deal, yeah?” he continued without any arrogance, and Solaris knew he was trying his best to sound reassuring.

Truthfully, the idea of her feet leaving the ground made her extremely nervous. She discreetly wiped her sweaty hands on her robes, taking a deep breath.

On the next attempt, both Marlene and Solaris managed to get their brooms to respond to the command, while Noah’s broom spun in place before finally landing in his palm on the third try.

Madame Hooch then demonstrated how to mount a broom without slipping off, sliding expertly to the other end. With sharp eyes, she moved down the lines, correcting the students’ postures.

“When I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground hard,” instructed Madame Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, hover a few feet above the ground, and lean forward. When I blow the whistle… Three... Two...”

And at that moment, Solaris felt a wave of anticipation rush through her body as she waited for the final countdown. Her heart raced, synchronized with the palpable anxiety hovering over the Quidditch pitch. She could almost feel the broom vibrating with the same rhythm.

When the whistle finally pierced the air, a symphony of movement echoed across the skies. Solaris, taking a deep breath, kicked off the ground with all her strength. In an instant, gravity lost its grip, and her feet, as light as feathers, lifted off the earth.

Laughter and shouts filled the air, blending into a chaotic melody of emotions. The wind brushed softly against Solaris' face, and she gave in to the thrill of newfound freedom.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Her stomach dropped as if in freefall, but then she remembered something Kreacher had told her years ago: her father, Regulus Black, had been a Seeker for Slytherin. He hadn’t had much to love in life, but flying had been one of those rare joys—a refuge. Suddenly, she felt much closer to him.

Around her, her classmates were also defying the laws of gravity, their faces showing a mix of surprise and delight. Christopher and Marlene, in particular, were circling each other in the air, seemingly engaged in a playful competition.

But then, amidst the laughter and flying, Gwendolyn Rutherford, a Hufflepuff girl born to Muggle parents, suddenly lost her balance and fell. A collective gasp escaped from the students, who froze in mid-air as Madame Hooch and some of the girl’s friends rushed to her side. A murmur spread through the group, their enthusiasm quickly turning into concern.

“Are you alright, dear?” Madame Hooch asked as Gwendolyn, trying to be brave, smiled with a chipped tooth.

“Nothing serious, professor,” Gwendolyn insisted, though there were tears brimming in her eyes.

“Don’t be nervous,” Marlene advised, as Noah took deep breaths beside her.

“Madam Pomfrey will have that fixed in no time. Just focus,” Christopher added.

To ensure Gwendolyn received the necessary attention, Madame Hooch asked a nearby student to accompany her to the infirmary. Solaris thought she heard the name "Wilson" being called.

Despite the mishap, the sky remained open to those brave enough to face it. The flying lesson continued, and the Quidditch pitch remained a stage for learning and exploration. Solaris flew until the end of the class, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

It hadn’t been as terrible as she had feared, but she wasn’t sure if flying was something she would do again voluntarily.