Chapter 9: A Morning of Magic and Decisions
I woke up to a quiet morning at Hogwarts, the kind where the castle's usual bustling energy was muted, and the early dawn light barely filtered through the high windows of the Slytherin dormitory. I stretched, feeling my muscles relax after a night of deep sleep, and glanced at the clock. It was just after 7 AM, still early. My Charms class wasn't until 9 AM, so I had time to prepare at my leisure. After running through my morning exercises and freshening up, I dressed in my uniform, grabbed my bag, and headed toward the Great Hall.
Breakfast was already in full swing when I arrived. Students from every house mingled together, chatting about their day ahead. I sat at the Slytherin table, helping myself to a plate of eggs and toast. As I ate, I mentally went over my schedule for the day. Charms with the Ravenclaws first, then Transfiguration where I would give Professor McGonagall my decision on becoming her assistant.
Finishing my breakfast, I glanced at the enchanted ceiling above. It was a clear, bright day, the kind that made you feel that anything was possible. I smiled to myself, feeling a little lighter. Hogwarts had that effect on me sometimes, as if it was as much a living entity as it was a school, offering opportunities and mysteries around every corner.
By the time I made my way to the Charms classroom, the corridors were beginning to fill with students rushing to their own classes. Professor Flitwick was already seated behind his desk, perched on his usual stack of books to see over the lectern. His cheerful expression brightened further when I entered the room.
"Ah, Miss Targaryen, always punctual," he greeted me with a smile.
"Good morning, Professor," I replied, taking a seat in the front row. "I wouldn't want to miss one of your classes."
He chuckled, his small frame almost bouncing. "That's the spirit! Today's lesson will be particularly exciting. We'll be practicing the *Wingardium Leviosa* charm."
As the rest of the class filtered in, mostly Ravenclaws, I prepared my materials and leaned forward, eager to absorb every word. Professor Flitwick began with a lecture on the foundations and intricacies of spell casting, particularly the importance of intention and precision. I couldn't help but ask a few questions, my mind buzzing with curiosity.
"Professor," I asked, raising my hand, "if *Wingardium Leviosa* works based on levitation, could it be applied to non-physical entities, like lifting magical energy in a concentrated form?"
Flitwick paused, his eyes twinkling. "An excellent question, Miss Targaryen! Theoretically, yes, but that would require a much more advanced form of the spell, one that deals with manipulating magical currents. You're thinking along the right lines, though."
I nodded, satisfied, and made a mental note to investigate that further. My thoughts swirled as he continued his explanation. Hogwarts may be teaching me a different style of magic from what I grew up with, but I was beginning to see how both could intertwine.
When the time came for us to practice *Wingardium Leviosa*, I was more than ready. Professor Flitwick demonstrated the correct wand movement—a delicate swish-and-flick motion—and then instructed us to give it a try. The feather before me sat still on the desk as I focused, raising my wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" I said clearly, and with a precise flick of my wrist, the feather rose effortlessly into the air, floating steadily above my desk.
Professor Flitwick beamed. "Marvelous work, Miss Targaryen! Twenty points to Slytherin for such fine control."
I gave him a small smile in return, but inwardly, I was pleased. Mastering this kind of magic came naturally to me, and his praise, though expected, was a nice confirmation that I was on the right path.
He approached my desk and leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, Miss Targaryen, if the Dueling Club ever makes a return, I'd be honored to have you as a member. Your skill with charms would be invaluable."
I nodded, my curiosity piqued. "I'd be very interested, Professor. Thank you."
The rest of the class passed quickly as the other students practiced their charms. I watched as some struggled, particularly a few Ravenclaws who were overthinking the wand movement. It made me realize how different Hogwarts students' approaches were from mine—more focused on theory than instinct. Still, by the time class ended, most of them had their feathers hovering, albeit shakily.
As I packed up my things, Professor Flitwick gave me another encouraging nod. "Keep practicing, Miss Targaryen. You're destined for great things."
With a polite thank you, I left the classroom and made my way to Transfiguration. Today, I would give Professor McGonagall my answer about her offer to become her assistant. I'd thought about it deeply last night, weighing the benefits of studying Transfiguration more intensely. It wasn't just about the extra work—there was a deep sense of purpose behind it. Transfiguration was one of the most ancient and complex forms of magic, and mastering it would certainly aid me in my larger goals. Plus, having Professor McGonagall as a mentor was an opportunity too valuable to pass up.
When I arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, I spotted Professor McGonagall seated at her desk, reviewing a stack of parchments. She looked up as I entered and gave me a rare smile.
"Ah, Miss Targaryen, I was hoping to see you."
I approached her desk, feeling a mixture of excitement and resolve. "Good morning, Professor. I've given your offer some thought."
"And?" she asked, her eyes sharp but kind.
"I would be honored to accept your offer to study Transfiguration more deeply," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I believe it will help me achieve the mastery I seek."
Professor McGonagall's expression softened, and she nodded. "I'm very pleased to hear that, Miss Targaryen. I don't often come across students with your level of talent and discipline. Being my assistant will require dedication and focus, but I believe you're more than capable."
"I'm ready for the challenge," I replied, my heart swelling with pride.
"Excellent. We'll meet once a week outside of regular class hours for additional lessons and research. I expect you to be prepared."
I nodded. "Of course, Professor."
With that settled, I left the classroom feeling a new sense of purpose. Becoming McGonagall's assistant would undoubtedly push me harder, but it was exactly what I needed to grow. Now, with that decision made, I could focus on my other goals.
As I made my way to the Great Hall for lunch, my thoughts buzzed with possibilities. The day had only just begun, and already, it was full of promise.
Now that I'd confirmed my decision to work closely with Professor McGonagall, it was time to move forward with my other plans. The first of which was obtaining the Marauder's Map. It would prove invaluable for my nightly expeditions. With it, I could navigate the castle's many secret passages without fear of being caught. The Room of Requirement was useful, but there were many more hidden spaces within Hogwarts, and the map was key to finding them. According to the twins, the map was currently locked away in Filch's office, but that wouldn't be a problem.
My goal wasn't just to use the map, but to understand how it was created. If I could master its enchantments, I might be able to replicate or even enhance its capabilities. The Weasley twins might appreciate having it when I was done, but first, I needed to unlock its secrets.
With my Charms class the only lesson for today, I had plenty of time on my hands. I debated what to do next—perhaps another walk through the castle? My last exploration had led me to uncover several hidden passages, some even more discreet than the ones detailed in my family's history of Hogwarts. Maybe I could find something else just as intriguing.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I set off once again. This time, I decided to explore the less-traveled areas of the castle, where the light seemed dimmer and the atmosphere more oppressive.
The deeper I went, the more the shadows seemed to lengthen. The stone walls felt colder, rougher, and the air held a slight chill, as if I had stepped into a forgotten part of Hogwarts where time barely touched. This side of the castle had an eerie stillness to it, far removed from the bustling life of the upper floors.
The corridors here twisted unpredictably, their paths broken by abrupt turns and sudden dead ends. Along the walls, ancient tapestries hung in tatters, depicting strange and faded scenes that were difficult to make out in the dim light. Dust clung to every surface, thick as a veil over the remnants of a time long past.
As I moved further into this labyrinth, I found myself descending gradually, the floor sloping ever downward. It felt familiar—reminiscent of the Slytherin dungeons, but more foreboding. The torches along the walls were old, their flames flickering dimly, casting long, ominous shadows across the narrow hallway.
Eventually, the corridor opened into a large, dark space. The air was heavy with a strange stillness, and the scent of old ashes filled my nose. I paused, my senses sharpening. This wasn't a place that many people visited—if the piles of ash and dust were anything to go by, it hadn't been disturbed in years, maybe even decades.
In the center of this forgotten chamber stood a massive black door. Its surface was cold and polished, though streaked with the grime of years gone by. Intricate carvings, etched deep into the stone, seemed to pulse faintly, as though warning me to stay away. There was an aura around it, one of dark magic, powerful and ancient.
I hesitated, studying the door's markings. There was something about it that felt familiar—an ancient form of magic that I couldn't quite place. But there was no question: it was meant to keep something hidden. Or perhaps, keep something locked away.
Curiosity took over, and I approached the door, pressing my hand against the cold stone. It groaned under the weight of centuries as I pushed it open, the heavy creaking sound echoing through the hallway.
Inside, the darkness was almost palpable, thicker than the shadows outside. But as my eyes adjusted, what I saw made me freeze.
In the center of the room stood a stone pedestal, and on top of it, something was glowing faintly. At first, I couldn't make out its shape, but as I stepped closer, I realized it was a black, ornate box, barely the size of a large book. Runes of an ancient language I immediately recognized were etched into its surface, glowing faintly with some dormant magic.
I couldn't help but feel drawn to it. The Targaryen blood in my veins stirred restlessly, and a quiet voice in the back of my mind whispered warnings. But whatever it was, it had been hidden here for a reason, and I couldn't resist uncovering its secret.
I stepped closer to the box, reaching out cautiously. Its magic buzzed faintly against my fingertips. What could this be? And why was it left here, forgotten in this darkened corner of the castle?
I stopped just short of touching it, taking a moment to study the runes more closely. They were ancient, and though the magic was unfamiliar, it felt oddly connected to the magic of my own bloodline. This wasn't Hogwarts' magic. It was something far older.
I inhaled slowly, knowing that I had just uncovered something truly significant. This box held more than just forgotten secrets—it held power, and perhaps, danger.
As much as I wanted to open it then and there, caution won out. Whatever it was, I needed to understand it before I acted. I stepped back from the pedestal, my mind racing with possibilities.
Tonight, I would retrieve the Marauder's Map and continue my expeditions. But now, there was a new mystery, one hidden in the shadows of Hogwarts that demanded my attention.
With one last glance at the glowing box, I left the room, the black door closing behind me with a soft click. The discovery weighed heavily on my mind as I made my way back through the winding corridors. The castle still had many secrets to offer—some of them darker than I ever imagined.