SEVEN
' in my mind '

☾⋆₊✧

OCTOBER
1993

AS soon as the hand had released her, Callie dug into her boot for her wand.

Hand trembling, but raising it just in front of her face, she was ready to cast the first defensive spell that came to mind, but stopped when she realize who had dragged her away.

"Dad?" Callie uttered, dumbfounded. "What are you—"

"Shh." Remus raised a finger to his lips, his head tilted slightly, listening. For a moment, the only sound between them was the faint rustle of his robes. Then, satisfied they were alone, he leaned back against the stone wall, his posture tense.

Callie lowered her wand but didn't relax. The faint light from the corridor barely reached the small alcove they were hidden in, and her father's face was cast in shadow. She could see the way his jaw tightened and his eyes flicked toward the entrance, as if expecting someone to appear at any moment.

"What's going on?" she whispered to him.

'We have to leave," he said, voice low but firm.

Callie frowned, gripping her wand tighter. "Leave? Why? What's happening?"

Remus's eyes flicked toward the corridor behind her, his face pale and strained. "The castle isn't safe anymore."

"What do you mean, not safe?" she asked, her pulse quickening.

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Sirius Black. He's here."

"Yeah, I got that part," she replied, her voice sharp as she referred to Peeves' earlier comment. "But what do you mean leave? There's nowhere else for us to go!"

Remus's jaw tightened, his gaze darting to the shadows of the hallway behind her. "The castle's too exposed. I'll figure something out, but we need to move now."

Callie planted her feet, clutching her wand tightly. "You're not making any sense. Why are you acting like he's coming straight for us?"

"Because he might be!" Remus's voice rose, echoing faintly in the corridor. He drew in a sharp breath, visibly calming himself. "I just... I don't trust the protections around here anymore. Not after tonight."

Callie's stomach twisted, her earlier irritation fading into unease. "But why would he want anything to do with me?"

Remus opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it again, the words dying on his lips. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and muttered, "It doesn't matter right now. You're too vulnerable, and that's all I care about."

"Dad—"

"Please, Calista." His voice was softer now, but no less firm. "Don't argue with me. Just trust me on this."

Her chest tightened at the raw emotion in his voice. She wanted to push further, to demand the answers he was clearly withholding, but the look in his eyes stopped her.

"Fine," she muttered, gripping her wand tighter. "Where are we going?"

"For now, somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."

As they began moving down the corridor, Callie glanced at her father's tense posture. He looked exhausted, more than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper in the dim light.

The castle was eerily quiet, the usual warmth of its halls replaced with an unsettling chill. Callie stayed close to Remus, her thoughts racing.

"Do you really think he'll come after me?" she asked after a long silence.

Remus exhaled heavily. "I don't know, Cal. But I'm not taking any chances. Not with you."

"And Harry?" She bit her lip, torn between frustration and a creeping sense of fear. "He's in danger too, isn't he?"

"Yes," Remus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But Dumbledore and the others will keep an eye on him. I'll make sure of it."

Callie nodded, though the knot in her stomach only tightened.

As they rounded a corner, Remus paused, listening intently to the distant echoes of footsteps. Satisfied they were alone, he turned to her. "I have to go back and help round up the rest of the students. And as much as I want to take you away from all of this—you'll have to go to the Great Hall. They should be sending everyone else there. It's safer for you to have company right now."

Callie's heart sank at his words. The idea of sitting in the Great Hall with everyone else, pretending everything was fine while knowing Sirius Black was somewhere out there, made her stomach churn.

"But, Dad—" she began, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Cal, please." His voice was strained, a mix of urgency and exhaustion. "If you're with the others, I can focus on doing what I need to do without worrying about where you are. It's the only way I can protect you."

She hesitated, gripping her wand tightly. "I don't want to leave you."

Remus crouched slightly so their eyes were level, his expression softening. "I know, sweetheart. But right now, I need you to be strong. Go to the Great Hall. Check on Harry. And keep your wand ready, just in case."

The last part sent a chill down her spine. She nodded reluctantly, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"You'll be okay, won't you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, though the lines of worry on his face betrayed him. "I've been through worse, haven't I?" He managed a small, tired smile.

Callie didn't feel reassured, but she nodded again, her grip tightening on her wand. "Alright," she said softly.

Remus straightened up and glanced down the corridor. "Go on now. And no detours. Straight to the Great Hall."

She hesitated for a moment longer, then threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He froze briefly before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Stay safe, Dad," she murmured against his robes.

"You too, Cal." His voice was thick with emotion as he held her for a brief moment longer, then gently pulled away. "Go."

With a heavy heart, Callie turned and began walking toward the Great Hall, the sound of her father's footsteps fading behind her as he headed back into the fray. Every step felt heavier than the last, and all she wanted to know was why, in addition to Harry, was Sirius Black trying to find her?

She glanced back once, hoping to catch a final glimpse of her dad, but he was already gone.

☾⋆₊✧

Soon, all the students including the Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, were huddled in the Great Hall. Callie was nearly out of breath when she arrived, and out of nowhere a body slammed into her, arms wrapping around her neck.

"Good riddance, Calista, you just disappeared!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.

"I was fine, Hermione. I promise," Callie replied, her breath still uneven. She then realized what this was—Hermione was hugging her. She'd only ever been hugged by one person before.

Hermione pulled back at that moment, looking her over as if to confirm this for herself. "You shouldn't wander off like that," she scolded, though her tone was soft. "I've been worried sick! Especially after what Peeves said about Sirius Black."

Callie shifted uncomfortably, not quite meeting her friend's eyes. "I wasn't wandering," she said, her voice low. "I just... needed a moment."

Hermione frowned but nodded, accepting the vague explanation for now. "Well, you're here now, and that's all that matters."

As Harry and Ron caught up, expressing their own worries, the four drifted over to an empty corner. Hermione was holding Callie's trembling hand tightly, not intent on letting go any time soon. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The pull to go to the Black Lake, the cold fear of being grabbed in the hallway, and her father's hurried instructions all churned in her mind.

She looked over at Harry, who seemed lost in his thoughts, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the scar on his forehead. Whatever Sirius Black wanted, whatever had driven him to break into the castle, it wasn't over.

And deep down, Callie felt the truth of her father's words: the castle wasn't safe anymore.

Dumbeldore had called for their attention moments later. "The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle. I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Ron's older brother, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to the leave the Hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well." And with that, he closed the main doors behind him.

The Hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" Percy shouted. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Hermione and Callie; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them back into their corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," Ron replied.

"But where could he have run?" Callie brought up, still swept up in the entire logic behind, well, everything.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," Hermione pointed out as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags, propping themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the Tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," Ron mentioned. "Didn't realise it was Hallowe'en. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered. Harry remained silent, and Callie had her eyes glued to the floor.

All around them, people were asking each other the same question: How did he get in?

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," a Ravenclaw a few feet away guessed. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," they heard another chime in.

"He could've flown in," Dean suggested, as if he had thought really hard about that answer.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" Hermione said crossly to the others.

"Probably," Ron responded.

"Why?" Callie followed up.

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," Hermione started. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. Callie rolled on her stomach, trying to bury herself in the sleeping bag.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Dumbledore came in. Callie had been awake the entire time, and not even the exhaustion that came with her illness was tiring her out.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" Percy then asked in a whisper. It was loud enough for her to hear, though, they must've been near.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her."

The Hall door gave a creak as it opened again, more footsteps following.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. Callie kept quite still, eyes shut, but listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched..."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Snape then proceeded to ask, rather suspiciously.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

Callie opened an eye a fraction, making out two figures right near her head. Dumbledore faced the other way, but Percy's face was rapt with attention, and Snape looked angrier than usual.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before–ah–the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore replied, something like warning in his voice.

"It seems—almost impossible—that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed Professor Lupin–"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," Dumbledore interjected, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" Percy quipped.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore replied coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

Percy looked slightly abashed from this angle. Dumbledore left the Hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face, then he, too, left.

Snape was suspicious about her dad? And in relation to Sirius Black, no less? What ever could have been the reason? Unless, what connected Dad to Snape, and Sirius to Callie...

She glanced sideways at the others; sure enough, each of them were still awake and seemed to have been listening attentively, too.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.

☾⋆₊✧

The soft hum of the enchanted instruments on Dumbledore's desk filled the silence as the two men sat in the dimly lit office. Moonlight streamed through the high windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the stone walls. Remus sat slouched in a chair, his elbows resting heavily on his knees, and his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

Neither had spoken for several minutes. They had returned from sweeping the castle in tense silence, finding no sign of Sirius beyond the chaos left in his wake. The students had been safely moved to the Great Hall for the night, which was what mattered most. But the threat lingered, unspoken and undeniable.

Dumbledore finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. "No trace of him. It would seem Sirius is as elusive as ever."

Remus didn't lift his head, his voice muffled when he spoke. "He got in once. He can get in again."

"Yes," Dumbledore admitted. "But he did not reach his goal tonight. And now, we will take even greater precautions."

Remus straightened, his eyes heavy with worry. "You can strengthen the wards, increase the patrols, but he's smart, Albus. Smarter than we ever gave him credit for. If he's after Harry, or..." He hesitated, his voice catching. "Or my daughter... I'm not sure how we stop him."

Dumbledore studied him carefully, his expression unreadable. "Do you believe he would harm her?"

"I don't know." Remus dragged a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "The Sirius I knew wouldn't. But that version of him wasn't real. I don't think he ever was."

Remus thought back to when he had first brought Calista to the safe house, where Sirius had been waiting for them—and for Celene as well. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

Remus had been a wreck, tears streaming down his face, his hands trembling as he held the tiny, sleeping baby in his arms. Calista was so small, so fragile, her breaths barely audible against the chaos of his mind. Celene wasn't there. She was never coming back. And Sirius...

Sirius had been furious. Not at the baby—never at the baby—but at everything else. At himself, for not doing more. At Remus, for not stopping Celene from going back. And, most of all, at Celene, for being a bloody idiot and returning to the face of danger.

For an entire week, Sirius had been inconsolable. His anger burned like fire, his words sharp and biting. Every conversation had been a battle, every silence heavy with unspoken accusations.

It was Lily who finally calmed him. She'd been visiting the safe house, her hand resting on the swell of her belly as she prepared for the arrival of Harry. Her words, gentle but firm, had cut through Sirius' anger like a balm.

"Whatever your sister had to do, it was for good reason," Lily had said, her voice filled with the quiet certainty that only she could muster. "You know her best. She would've followed if it was safe for her. But you need to get off your arse and go visit with your niece." A tear had rolled down her cheek. "You have no idea of the amount of time you two have left together."

Sirius had gone quiet after that, his storm of anger dissipating into something softer, though no less intense. He'd started spending more time with Calista, holding her while she cried, making silly faces to coax out her rare but precious giggles.

He hadn't just taken to her—he'd adored her. Even though the uncle and his niece had seldom visits when baby Callie wasn't hidden away at the Tonks' or his mother, she'd been the light in the darkest chapter of their lives. Sirius, despite his own demons, had done his best to protect that light.

Remus' throat tightened at the memory. He'd seen Sirius' love for Callie firsthand, and it had been real. He knew it, because that was the way Celene had looked at Callie when she was holding her for those mere minutes before she was gone forever.

But if Voldemort was his master, Sirius would most certainly want to kill Harry. And Calista, the daughter of his sister, who had herself betrayed Voldemort... there was no other likely scenario.

"So what are you intending on doing?" Dumbledore spoke up, breaking Remus from his memories.

He had clearly already made up his mind. "We'll have to leave. Or Callie will, for that matter. As much as I won't be able to bear not seeing her, she has to go away. Maybe Chiara can take her, or Andromeda and her husband—"

"And do tell," Dumbledore interrupted, "if Calista falls ill again this winter, who's going to be able to give her the assistance she needs?"

"St. Mungos, of course," Remus replied quickly, though he felt uncertain. "Chiara works there, and the Tonks are close enough to London, last I checked."

Dumbledore's expression didn't waver. "And St. Mungos will gladly care for and discharge a patient who doesn't exist? One with mysterious ailments and magic running through her veins?"

Remus flinched. "They don't need to know everything. Chiara knows enough to—"

"Remus," Dumbledore said gently, but firmly enough to stop him mid-sentence, "Miss. Lobosca has done wonders for Calista, but even she cannot make her invisible to questions. You've gone to great lengths to keep her safe, to keep her story out of the wrong hands. But placing her outside these walls in the current climate? That would be a gamble far too dangerous for her."

Remus clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. "And you think keeping her here, in the same castle Sirius just broke into, is the safer option? He's already tried to get into Gryffindor Tower. It's only a matter of time before he tries again."

"I do not disagree that the situation is perilous," Dumbledore acknowledged, his gaze steady. "But Hogwarts remains one of the safest places for her. For both of you. Removing her from here would expose her to far worse threats we cannot anticipate, nor control. And Remus, if Sirius truly seeks Calista... you know he will not stop looking."

The weight of the Headmaster's words settled heavily on Remus' shoulders. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands.

"Sirius can't run and hide forever," Dumbledore said, his voice steady yet calm. "For now, we'll make sure Calista is never anywhere on her own. She'll always have someone accompanying her, surveying her."

Remus shook his head almost instantly, the idea striking a nerve. "No, that won't work. I can't trap her. She needs time to herself, especially if she doesn't feel well. She's already been through enough without me smothering her. She'll get frustrated—and resentful—quickly."

Dumbledore regarded him with a small nod, as if expecting the answer. "Then what do you propose?"

"Just... have the ghosts keep an eye out for her? And for Sirius," Remus suggested, though there was hesitation in his voice. "They're everywhere, they see more than any of us ever could. She won't even know they're watching."

"Always," Dumbledore agreed with a small smile.

A heavy silence settled between them. Both knew that these measures, however thorough, were still not guarantees.

"There is nothing else to be done for tonight," Dumbledore finally said, his tone soft but firm. "Go rest, Remus. You need your strength for whatever's coming."

He nodded as he turned to leave, "Likewise, Headmaster."

☾⋆₊✧

Sirius Black was the topic of every conversation for the next while, not that one could be blamed. The theories of how he came into the castle only ramped up, becoming wilder and wilder by the minute. Hermione and Ron tried not to talk about it much, especially around a grateful Harry, and unknowingly, Calista as well.

Everywhere she went, the girl felt like she was being watched. Every step, every bite, and sigh she took felt like it was being closely monitored. The only places where she felt she had some peace were her dorm and the loo. She felt as if the teachers were all regarding her with pity—mind Snape—a pity they hadn't even expressed when all they thought she was, was a sick girl. Because apparently, for whatever reason she could not figure out, Sirius Black wanted to hurt her, too.

Her main theory as of why hadn't been difficult to deduce—after the night spent in the Great Hall and overhearing Snape's concerns to Dumbledore of her dad and being in leagues with Black, the pieces were easy to put together. She felt like Sherlock Holmes in one of her mystery novels as she wrote her thoughts down in her spare notebook and began searching for clues in the library. Her main theory was that Dad had known or had some kind of connection to Sirius prior to him being sent to Azkaban. Dad was careful in his words and manners but it didn't take a genius to figure out that his name held more significance to him than the average person. Now, she wasn't sure what, but something must've happened between him and Sirius Black that would drive him to crave revenge.

And what better way to take it out than on his mysterious family member?

She wasn't sure if Sirius knew her relation to Remus, or that she even existed. She wasn't supposed to exist. But she was there if you looked hard enough, in written records and all the places that mattered. And again, if Dad and Sirius had had relations prior to Callie's birth, there was a possibility she had a connection to the mass murderer, too.

There was so much she never considered, questions with answers she had never looked for. She never had the need to. All that she knew was the bubble she lived in, which Dad had created himself.

It made her wonder just how many other things he was keeping from her.

She remembered at one point hearing from Hermione how the library kept detailed records of past students, including lists of who attended in which years and what houses they were sorted into. She started there, pulling out a heavy book labeled Hogwarts Enrolment Records: 1970-1980. Dad was thirty-three, so she did the math from there. As she flipped through the years, it didn't take her long to find him; Remus Lupin – Gryffindor, 1971-1978.

Looking through the students in this year, it didn't take her long to piece together some other familiar names. Severus Snape, James Potter. Her breath hitched as she found the name she'd been looking for. There were two students with the last name Black: Sirius and Celene.

Callie's eyes widened. She didn't know much about the notable witches and wizards in Britain, or anywhere, for that matter, but what she did know that it was not a coincidence for two people to share a last name. Sirius had a relative the same age, who attended school with him. And a Slytherin, nonetheless. She was probably just as bad as he was, and was now either dead or locked away in Azkaban. As quickly as she had noticed the name, her attention slipped away from it.

So Dad and Sirius had gone to school at the same time, same year, same house. There was no doubt in her mind that the two were friends at some point. But what would have happened between them for Remus to think Sirius wanted revenge? What possibly could have warranted that?

She kept the thought in the back of her mind, sort of like a mini hobby outside of all her schooling. When she'd zone out in class or while studying, it would always be the topic that she would drift back to. Sometimes before she fell asleep, and in her dreams, as well. She would see a man with long dark hair, with piercing eyes. Other times she would see a flock of miscellaneous animals, but there were two among them which she could always specifically recall—a black dog, and a wolf.

If only she could deduce meaning other than the fact that Sirius Black was taking over her life. Maybe Divination would offer something useful...

Calista had gotten to Defence that afternoon as early as she could, even before Hermione had time to catch up to her. She hadn't seen any sign of her father for days, had barely spoken to him either, and was beginning to grow worried. As she got to the classroom, it was completely empty.

She sat alone for a few minutes before others began trickling in. Harry was nearly late, and Hermione mentioned earlier she would be tardy. Still, no sign of her father as their class was supposed to start. What was he doing?

The door to the class then opened swiftly, but shut rather violently. Callie turned, expecting to see her Dad's warm smile, but was instead met with the stone cold face of Professor Snape.

The entire class fell silent at once. He strode down the aisle, his black cape flowing dramatically as he went, and swooshed his wand to lock up each of the shutters on the windows. Snape pulled down the projector, faced the class, then simply said, "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

The class quickly got out their textbooks, which was a rare occurrence for them in this classroom. As Snape began striding down the aisles again, Harry spoke up.

"Excuse me, sir, where's Professor Lupin?"

"That's not really your concern, is it, Potter?" Snape retorted. "Suffice it to say that your professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." Snape tapped on the projector with his wand, lighting the screen up.

Callie's concern was only growing. What did he mean incapable? Could he ever not be so vague? Perhaps this mess with Sirius had taken much worse of a turn indeed...

"Werewolves?"

Calista jumped as Hermione appeared without warning next to her, somehow already having settled in to her saved seat without making any noise—or movement, it seemed like. She leaned over her textbook to see what the girl meant. Page three hundred and ninety-four was indeed on werewolves. She felt her stomach churn.

"But sir, we've just begun learning about Red Caps and Hinkypunks," Hermione continued to tell Snape. "We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks."

"Quiet," he said coldly.

"When did she come in?" Ron hissed from the desk next to Callie's. "Did you see her come in?" The red-headed girl shook her head.

"Now," Snape began as the projector rotated between different tables from the textbook, "which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Hermione's arm shot up right away. Snape ignored her. "No one? How disappointing." His beady eyes fell on Callie. "Perhaps Miss Lupin wants to give it a go?"

Callie felt her face heat, the weight of his scrutiny making her shrink in her seat. "Not particularly, sir," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the desk.

"Really?" Snape's tone turned silkier, his eyebrow arching in mock curiosity. "I was under the impression it's a subject of personal interest in your family."

Callie felt the weight of Snape's gaze, cold and probing, and it made her skin crawl. She clenched her fists under the desk, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her expression neutral.

She wasn't stupid. He was baiting her, trying to rattle her, through whatever disdain he had for her father and now for her. And now, with the students around them blissfully unaware, Snape was testing her, seeing if she'd crack under pressure.

She forced herself to take a slow, steady breath. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not today.

"Please, sir," Hermione then spoke up. "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf–"

But Snape cut her off abruptly. "That is the second time you've spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?"

Hermione's face went beat red as she put down her hand and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. Callie reached out beneath the desk, grabbing her friend's hand in hers. Hermione didn't look up, but she gave Callie's hand a grateful squeeze.

Then Ron, unable to hide his frustration, yelled, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Everyone instantly knew he'd gone too far. Calista was just astounded that Ron had come to her defence, with the fact that he himself called Hermione a know-it-all at least twice a week. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, until his face was inches away from the boy's. "Detention, Weasley. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. Callie halfheartedly made notes on werewolves from the textbook, trying to make sure it came directly from the - instead of her mind. Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing thus far under her father's teaching.

"Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three..."

Every snide, incorrect mark made it harder and harder for her to hold back from rolling her eyes.

When the bell rang at last, Snape held their class back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Callie left the room as fast as she could with Harry and Hermione, and once they were out of earshot, they each burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

"I should've just left—that was ridiculous," Callie stated, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said, referring to the known fact that Snape would much rather teach Defence than Potions. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the Boggart?"

Harry and Hermione both looked to Callie for answers. She just shook her head. "I'm as curious as you two are." Which she was, but she wasn't sure it was a good idea to divulge the fact that the had found out her 'uncle' had a history with the head of Slytherin house.

Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"D'you know what that–" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say 'Ron!') "– is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

☾⋆₊✧

The following day, the weather was as miserable as ever. It was dark and cloudy, thunder rumbling overhead, and the wind pounded against the walls of the castle. It didn't make for a very nice day of doing much of anything in the outdoors, and unfortunately for the students, there was a quidditch match.

It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, so naturally all the Gryffindors were going in support. Calista was far from excited from sitting in the cold rain for who knew how long, but Harry had been looking forward to his first match of the year for a while now. She couldn't let him, or the other Gryffindors she knew who were on the team down, so she'd bundled up as best as she could and tried to remain positive.

On the way down to the Quidditch pitch, Ron tried explaining to Callie the layout of the game as best he could. It was more like a bunch of rambling, and she could barely focus on what he was saying except the fact that Harry's role on the team was instrumental for winning the game. She figured she would just cheer when everyone else was cheering and it would be enough.

As the two teams walked out onto the pitch, brooms in hand, cheers erupted from the audience. Calista felt herself smile despite the fact she could barely move her lips as she saw Harry emerge and mount his broomstick. She tried waving, but it was so rainy that it didn't look like he could see much, let alone one girl in an audience of hundreds. Somehow she hoped he would, that he was capable of picking her apart in a crowd.

The captains of either team, Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory, shook hands, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle to signal the start of the game. She'd lit up when she'd seen Cedric—whom she hadn't seen since that first encounter on the Hogwarts express. Everyone took to the sky, a blurry of motion which Callie couldn't see well past the fog in front of her.

As the trembling in her hands got worse, the grip on her umbrella loosening, it suddenly took the chance to flee. Before she could try and grab it out of the air it blew away, eventually falling down onto the pitch.

"Sorry, guys," Callie shuddered. She'd put an enlargement charm on the umbrella so it was able to cover her, Hermione and Ron. "Gravity won this time."

They continued watching, now huddled in together for warmth. Callie began losing track of time. The sky seemed to be getting darker, as if night had decided to come early. Harry seemed to be having a hard time; he didn't have a good grip on his broomstick and he kept bumping into Hufflepuff and Gryffindor players alike.

Everyone else seemed to notice his struggles as well. "I don't think Harry can see anything," Ron commented.

"There's got to be something we can do," Hermione said, thinking.

Callie suddenly lit up. "I have an idea."

So, as lightning flashed and Madam Hooch blew the whistle for a timeout, Callie made her way down to the small roofed area where the Gryffindors were located.

She appeared at his shoulder, holding her cloak over her head, beaming. He spun around, and stared at her in confusion. She wasted no time, "Glasses, Harry, quick!"

He eagerly handed them to her and she tapped them with her wand, shouting, "Impervius!"

She then slid them back onto Harry's face carefully, then stepped back, grinning.

"There! They'll repel water."

Oliver Wood looked as though he could have kissed her. Harry beamed back at her.

"Good luck," Callie nodded, then scurried away just as Hooch blew her whistle for the game to continue.

Now as Harry played, it seemed he was much more concentrated and able to see what was within an inch of his face.

Ron stared at Callie in awe. "What did you do?"

"Impervius charm?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer. Callie nodded proudly.

BOOM! Another clap of thunder sounded, followed seconds later by forked lightning. This game was getting more and more dangerous. She hoped if not Harry, then Cedric Diggory would catch the snitch soon so this would be over with and she could go back to the warmth before her limbs froze and fell off.

Another flash of lightning; something then caught the girl's eye. A silhouette in the sky of the head of a dog, almost as if the clouds had taken form of it themselves. When she blinked, it was gone.

"Harry, behind you!" Oliver Wood yelled, causing Harry to look around wildly. Diggory was pelting up the pitch, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them.

"Go Harry!" Hermione cheered as he zoomed by them, chasing after Diggory and the snitch. Callie tried to shout, but she found her voice made no sound.

The two seekers were going further and further into the sky; Callie tried her best to get a good view before they disappeared into the clouds. She stood on the tips of her toes, craning her neck upward, squinting into the mist...

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though she had gone suddenly deaf. What was it now?

Then a cold sensation began creeping over her, etching into her skin. Callie's heart was pounding, her head throbbing. It was the same feeling when the Dementors had boarded the Hogwarts express and made their way to their compartment, and she was beginning to remember times when she and Dad had been at their lowest...

"Harry's in trouble," she said immediately. Hermione and Ron stopped cheering, and stared at her in confusion. Callie pointed a trembling finger up at the sky. There, Harry was surrounded by what she could only assume were the dementors, dark and cloaked and horrible.

Her ears were ringing, her breathing slowed, and she was slowly fading away. She felt her body go numb, as if she knew no more...

Then she opened her eyes to see two faces hovering above hers.

"Are you OK?" Hermione asked, and Ron had a hand outstretched. Callie took it, and when she got back on her feet she remembered where she was. In the stands at the Quidditch match, surrounded by students... half of which were now looking at her, the others on the pitch.

She held her head. It felt as if a ton of bricks had just fallen onto it. She winced as Hermione helped her sit upright, carefully.

"Can you stand?"

"I think so..." she slowly got to her feet. She looked around. The match had stopped, and the pitch had been cleared out. Calista looked around for any sight of her friend in his Gryffindor quidditch uniform.

"Where's Harry?" she asked Hermione and Ron.

They shared a look of great concern.

^remus next chapter

things are ramping up and so much is about to happen! remus is stressing, callie is sleuthing, and snape is being a bitch as usual. unfortunately no one gets a breather for a loooong time.

also let's appreciate this amazing gif set from astrxids :

they are toooo precious 😢 and yes if anyone wants to make graphics for this story feel free too! I'll probably eventually do a gallery for all of them (if we get to that point).

p.s. i may start publishing every monday instead of every OTHER monday... i just have to make sure i pace myself and have enough material. happy MMM!!