SIXTEEN
' and the moon comes up '

☾⋆₊✧

JUNE
1994

AS the seven wizards—plus one cat—emerged from the shadowy tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow, darkness had fully blanketed the castle grounds. The towering silhouette of Hogwarts stood illuminated by the stars and the soft glow of the moon, a radiant sight under the night sky.

Sirius gently lowered Ron to the ground, his movements careful despite his own weariness. Hermione crouched beside Ron, checking his leg, while Harry and Callie hovered close by. Sirius stepped away from the group, his eyes fixed on the castle, his expression a mix of awe and longing.

Callie noticed first, glancing at Harry, who had also caught the look on Sirius's face. Neither said anything but stood quietly, watching him.

"You two had better go," Ron said, his voice firm despite the pain etched across his face.

"But Ron—" Callie started, stepping forward.

"No. Don't worry, okay? It's fine," Ron interrupted, managing a small, reassuring smile. "We'll stay."

Harry moved to adjust the bandage on Ron's leg, but Hermione placed a hand on his arm, shaking her head. "Go. We'll handle it."

"You sure?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed.

"I'm fine," Ron replied, though his voice wavered slightly. He paused, then called out just as Callie and Harry began to turn away. "Calista, you owe us a very lengthy explanation later."

Callie smirked, her lips quirking into a playful grin as she looked back at him. "Count on it," she said, her voice light despite the tension still thick in the air.

She and Harry joined Sirius, who stood a little ways ahead, his gaze unwavering as he took in the view of Hogwarts. The three stood side by side, silent for a moment, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. For Sirius, it was a sight he hadn't seen in over a decade. For Callie and Harry, it was a reminder of the home they'd come so close to losing. Together, they let the quiet awe settle over them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sirius said, his voice soft and filled with wonder. "I'll never forget the first time I walked through those doors. It'll be nice to do it again as a free man."

Callie's thoughts drifted back to September, her first glimpse of the castle looming over the lake, its warm lights reflected in the water. Back then, she hadn't known the truths she knew now. She reached out carefully, her small hand slipping into Sirius's thin, dry one. He flinched at first but, realizing it was his niece, relaxed. A faint smile touched his face as he let her hold on. She leaned her head against his side, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the calm night envelop them.

Sirius looked down at Harry, his gaze serious. "That was a noble thing you did back there. He doesn't deserve it."

"Like I said," Harry replied, "my dad wouldn't have wanted you and Lupin to become killers. And I wasn't going to let Calista live with that burden, either."

Callie felt a tear slip down her cheek, and her grip on Sirius's hand tightened.

"Besides," Harry continued, "dead, the truth dies with him. Alive, you're free."

Sirius's eyes shone with pride and emotion. "You two have become great friends in a short amount of time," he said, his voice thick. "I'm grateful you found each other."

"I hope it can stay that way," Callie said, looking over at Harry. "I'm so sorry for everything I hid from you."

Harry nodded. "I get it, to some extent. But there's still a lot you need to explain."

Behind them, Pettigrew's pitiful whining continued, his voice high and trembling as he pleaded with Remus. "Turn me into a maggot. A dung beetle. A Flobberworm! Anything but the Dementors..."

Callie squeezed Sirius's hand briefly, offering Harry a small smile before stepping back to give them their moment alone.

She walked slowly, arms crossed against the cool night air, her boots crunching lightly on the grass. Despite everything, she felt a flicker of happiness. Justice was finally within reach, and her family— broken and battered though it was— had found a way back to each other.

She tilted her head toward the sky, wondering if her mother was watching. Wherever she was, Callie hoped she was smiling, content to see her daughter safe and surrounded by those who cared for her.

A cloud shifted overhead, and silvery moonlight poured down over the castle grounds. Their party stood illuminated, their shadows stretching faintly across the grass.

Callie's arms dropped to her sides, her smile vanishing along with them. Her breath hitched as she looked up at the sky, the full moon gleaming cold and merciless above.

"Oh no..." she whispered, her gaze darting to him. He stood rigid, a dark silhouette against the moonlight, his fingers twitching uncontrollably.

"Sirius! Harry!" Callie called over her shoulder, her voice sharp with alarm.

"Oh my—" Hermione's voice cracked with panic. "He didn't take his Potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Sirius whispered, his voice low and urgent. "Run! Now!"

But none of them moved, frozen in place, watching in horror as bristles began to push through Remus's skin.

A guttural, snarling sound tore through the air. Remus's head began to elongate, his body contorting grotesquely. His shoulders hunched, and dark hair sprouted rapidly across his face and clawing hands. His fingers twisted, morphing into sharp, lethal paws.

Crookshanks arched his back, fur bristling, and scrambled backward with a hiss.

The transformation reached its horrifying crescendo as the werewolf reared on its hind legs, jaws snapping viciously.

"Sirius!" Callie shouted again, but Sirius was already moving. In a blur, he transformed into the massive, bear-like dog and charged forward.

The werewolf let out a chilling howl, a sound that Callie had only ever heard from a distance before now. Her blood ran cold as she watched Sirius, now the enormous black dog, launch himself at the beast with teeth bared. He clamped his jaws around the werewolf's neck, dragging it back and away from Ron and Pettigrew.

The two creatures locked in a savage struggle, claws raking and jaws snapping, their snarls and growls echoing across the grounds like rolling thunder.

Calista stood frozen in place, terror rooting her to the spot, until she felt someone grab her arm and pull her roughly to the side.

Pettigrew had seized his chance, diving for Remus' dropped wand.

"No!" Harry yelled. "Expelliarmus!"

The wand flew from Pettigrew's grasp, and he froze mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to face them, his expression blank. Then, his eyes closed, and a hideous grin spread across his face.

Callie's breath caught as Pettigrew transformed. In a flash, he was gone, a rat scurrying into the shadows of the night.

A piercing howl shattered the momentary silence. Harry spun around, just in time to see the werewolf—Remus—shrug Sirius off with terrifying strength, tossing him into the air.

Callie's heart stopped as the towering figure of her father, now fully transformed, turned toward them.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice trembling. She took a hesitant step forward, hoping against hope. "It's me, it's... Dad?"

The werewolf growled, standing on his hind legs, claws outstretched and gleaming in the moonlight. Callie knew, deep down, that no words could reach the monster now.

With a guttural snarl, the werewolf lunged. Calista braced herself, but suddenly she was yanked backward with a sharp tug.

It was Snape. He had emerged from the tree just in time to pull her away, shielding her along with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

But it wasn't enough.

As the werewolf swiped down, Calista looked up, and everyone tumbled to the ground in a chaotic heap.

Pain exploded across her face as his claws raked her, slicing through the skin just above her eyebrow and down to below her eye. Blood spilled, warm and wet, as she gasped, clutching her face.

Callie's ears rang, and her vision swam with blinding white. Then the pain hit, sharp and searing, as she lifted her trembling hand to the left side of her face. When she pulled it away, it was covered in red—slick, warm, and unmistakably blood.

Everything around her felt distant, muffled, like she was underwater. But through the haze, she could hear it—the distinct sounds of two growls, deep and feral, and the vicious sounds of a struggle.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron fell to her side, panic etched on their faces as they tried to assess the damage. Callie barely registered their frantic voices, her mind swirling with one thought: No one else can get hurt tonight.

But then she heard it—Sirius' yelps, high and pained, cutting through the chaos like a knife. Her heart clenched.

"G-go," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "Go help Sirius, please—"

"But Callie, your eye—" Hermione began, her voice breaking.

"Go!" Callie screamed, summoning every ounce of strength she had left. She shoved blindly at someone—Harry, she thought—and the force sent him stumbling backward.

Her vision blurred further, and the sounds around her began to fade. She could no longer hold on.

Her head hit the ground, and darkness swallowed her whole.

☾⋆₊✧

When Calista woke up again, she found herself bathed in the dim, familiar glow of the hospital wing. She didn't move, didn't call for anyone—just stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to piece together the fragments of memory swirling in her mind.

She quickly realized something was wrong. Her left side was dark. Panic bubbled up as she reached a trembling hand to her face. Her fingers brushed against bandages that stung faintly with every movement.

A small gasp caught her attention. Slowly, she turned her head, wincing at the ache in her neck. Harry was sitting up in the bed next to her, his eyes wide and filled with concern.

In the background, she could faintly hear voices—Snape and Fudge arguing over recent events. Words like 'Dementors' and 'Black' filtered through the haze. Hermione lay on the bed beside Harry, her face pale and drawn, clearly shaken.

"Ah, you're awake!" Madam Pomfrey's brisk voice broke through the quiet. She approached their beds, handing Harry and Hermione small pieces of chocolate before placing a vial on Callie's bedside table.

"How's Ron?" the three of them asked in unison.

"He'll live," Madam Pomfrey said grimly. "As for you three... you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're—Potter, what do you think you're doing?"

Harry, as usual, was already sitting up, fumbling to put on his glasses and gripping his wand.

"I need to see the Headmaster," he said firmly.

"Potter," Madam Pomfrey said in a soothing tone, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the Kiss any moment now—"

"WHAT?!"

Harry jumped out of bed, and Hermione followed suit, both looking alarmed. Callie pushed herself up in her bed, not well enough to stand, but determined to keep up with what was happening. Harry's shout echoed down the corridor, drawing immediate attention. Moments later, the doors to the ward burst open, and Cornelius Fudge strode in, followed closely by Snape.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed—has he had any chocolate?" he added, glancing anxiously at Madam Pomfrey.

"Minister, listen!" Harry said urgently. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that to Sirius, he's—"

But Fudge shook his head with a placating smile.

"Harry, Harry, you're very confused. You've been through a dreadful ordeal. Lie back down now, we've got everything under control..."

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, please, listen!" Hermione begged, hurrying to Harry's side, her expression desperate. "I saw him too! It was Ron's rat—he's an Animagus—Pettigrew, I mean, and—"

"You see, Minister?" Snape interjected smoothly. "Confunded, both of them. Black's done a very convincing job on their minds..."

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared, his voice echoing off the high walls.

"Minister! Professor!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, stepping between the teens and the adults. "I must insist you leave! Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed! I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry said furiously. "If they'd just listen—"

Before he could finish, Madam Pomfrey stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry's mouth. He choked, and she seized the opportunity to push him back onto the bed with surprising force.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave—"

The door creaked open again, and Calista's heart skipped as she turned her head. It was Dumbledore. Harry swallowed the chocolate Madam Pomfrey had shoved into his mouth, nearly choking in his haste, and got up again.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black—"

"For heaven's sake!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, her voice rising with frustration. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist—"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Lupin, and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said calmly. His presence was grounding, yet his words sent a ripple of anticipation through Callie's exhausted mind. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black—"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" Snape hissed, cutting through the moment. His glare made Callie shrink back instinctively. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive—"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, his gaze steady as he regarded Snape through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" Snape snarled, his voice rising. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" Hermione interjected earnestly, leaning forward. "You didn't arrive in time to hear—"

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

Callie flinched at Snape's bellow, her fingers gripping the edge of her blanket. Harry stood rigid beside Hermione, who looked momentarily cowed but didn't back down.

"Now, Snape," Fudge said, his voice full of false magnanimity. "The young lady is disturbed in her mind. We must make allowances—"

"I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore interrupted, his voice suddenly sharp. "And Miss Lupin as well. Cornelius, Severus, Poppy—please leave us."

"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey spluttered indignantly. "They need treatment, they need rest—"

"This cannot wait," Dumbledore said firmly. "I must insist."

Callie glanced at Madam Pomfrey, whose lips were pressed into a thin line of disapproval as she turned and marched off toward her office. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the ward.

Fudge checked his large gold pocket watch, a frown creasing his face. "The Dementors should have arrived by now," he muttered. "I'll go meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

He strode toward the door and held it open for Snape, who remained rooted in place.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his dark eyes boring into Dumbledore's.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated, his tone unyielding.

Snape's face twisted as he took a step closer to Dumbledore. "Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed venomously. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," Dumbledore replied quietly, his voice like the calm before a storm.

Calista's chest tightened as she watched Snape's retreating form, his cloak billowing in a sharp movement as he turned to follow Fudge. The tension in the room hung thickly as Dumbledore closed the door with a deliberate slowness, turning back to face them.

Calista sat upright in her bed, her head spinning but her resolve hardening as Harry and Hermione began to speak over each other. Their words blurred together in her dazed mind, but the urgency behind them cut through her fog of pain.

"Professor, Black's telling the truth—we saw Pettigrew—" Harry started.

"—he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf—" Hermione added quickly.

"—he's a rat—"

"—Pettigrew's front paw—his finger, I mean—he cut it off—"

"—Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius—"

Callie clenched her fists around the blanket draped over her lap. She wanted to speak, to join them, but her throat felt tight, as though the words were stuck.

Dumbledore raised a hand, and the flurry of voices ceased. His calm, measured tone filled the room. "It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time. There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word—and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you—" Harry tried to interject.

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything," Dumbledore replied, his voice steady. "By the time he is human again, it will be too late. Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little—and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends—"

"Professor," Callie said suddenly, her voice hoarse but determined. She didn't care if it hurt to speak; she had to try. "You know my dad—he's not perfect, but he wouldn't lie about this. He wouldn't let Sirius go free if it wasn't true."

Dumbledore's gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes.

"I believe you, Miss Lupin," he said softly, "but belief is not enough. Listen to me, all of you. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione protested, her voice tinged with desperation. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him—"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man," Dumbledore continued. "The attack on the Fat Lady—entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife—without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius' sentence."

"But you believe us," Calista said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore replied, his voice solemn. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister for Magic..."

Callie's heart sank. She gripped her blanket tighter as Harry stared at Dumbledore, his face pale and stricken. The weight of Dumbledore's words pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. For the first time, she felt the crushing realization that even Dumbledore—wise and powerful as he was—could not fix everything.

Their last hope to save Sirius seemed to crumble before her eyes.

"What we need," Dumbledore then said slowly, and his light-blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is more time."

"But—" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!" Callie lay in her bed, her head spinning from the conversation, from the realization that everything had slipped out of their control. Her eye ached, and the bandages felt too tight around her face. She wanted to move, to do something, but her body felt sluggish and weak. Her mind, too, struggled to keep up as Dumbledore's words floated in the air.

More time.

The idea of it seemed almost impossible. How could they buy more time? Then, suddenly, it clicked. Hermione's time turner. Her heart beat faster, the rush of adrenaline mixing with the lingering fog in her head.

She wanted to go with them, to help Harry and Hermione, but her body refused to cooperate. The idea of running off, of confronting whatever lay ahead—especially when her vision was compromised, and her mind was still hazy—made her stomach churn. The urge to stand, to do something, was there, but it collided with the sharp pain in her eye and the dizziness in her head.

She had to stay. She wasn't ready for whatever this was.

Dumbledore's voice echoed in her thoughts. Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office... If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight...

She could see it all unfolding in her mind's eye, even if her body refused to follow. She was too weak to move, but that didn't mean she couldn't be a part of it.

Harry's voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked over to see him, confusion written all over his face.

"Three turns?" Harry echoed. "What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

Hermione didn't waste a second, already pulling the long gold chain from beneath her robes. Callie's heart leapt with recognition—she hadn't forgotten the time turner.

She wanted to shout, to tell them she could go with them, that they didn't have to do it alone, but the words stuck in her throat. She tried to push herself up from the bed, her heart racing, but the pain in her eye flared again, and she collapsed back against the pillows, gasping.

"Go," she managed to whisper hoarsely. "You have to save him. I... I can't."

Callie could barely make out their words, but she hoped they had heard her.

She listened, her heart pounding as commotion stirred outside the door. Just as quickly as Harry and Hermione had vanished, they returned, bursting through the hospital wing doors. The faint sound of the door locking behind them barely registered before they rushed back to their beds, their faces taut with exhaustion and uncertainty.

"You did it?" Callie croaked, her voice shaky. "Sirius is safe? A-and Buckbeak?"

Harry and Hermione nodded silently.

Before Callie could respond, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, her mood dark.

"Did I hear the Headmaster leaving?" she asked, voice tight with irritation. "Am I allowed to look after my patients now?"

She was in no mood for anything but order, and Harry and Hermione exchanged a brief glance before accepting the chocolate she handed them in silence.

Callie's mind was still spinning, and the pain in her eye throbbed dully as she shifted on her bed. She wanted to ask more, to push for details, but it felt like too much. She couldn't focus. All she could do was wait.

Madam Pomfrey stood over Harry and Hermione, making sure they ate the chocolate, her face stern. Callie's nerves were frazzled, the uncertainty of what had happened gnawing at her. She was only half aware of the sounds around her—until they changed.

A distant, furious roar echoed through the castle.

"What was that?" Madam Pomfrey asked sharply, looking toward the door with growing alarm.

Calista stiffened. She strained to hear, but all she could make out was a series of angry voices, getting closer by the second. Madam Pomfrey was pacing now, her irritation palpable.

"Really—what do they think they're doing? They'll wake everyone up!" she muttered, glancing at the door.

Callie could barely contain her anxiety, her pulse racing as she listened, trying to catch anything familiar in the heated voices.

Harry, looking tense, was straining too, trying to catch the conversation.

"They're getting closer," he muttered, his voice low.

And then, as if summoned by their concern, the voices grew louder.

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out—"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape's voice roared, full of fury. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS—HAS—SOMETHING—TO—DO—WITH—POTTER!"

Callie's eyes widened, the gravity of Snape's words pulling her focus.

"Severus—be reasonable—Harry has been locked up—" Another voice—was that Fudge?—tried to reason, but Snape's voice drowned it out.

Then—BAM. The door to the hospital wing flew open, crashing against the wall with the force of a storm.

The door to the hospital wing burst open again, and in strode Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore. Callie's attention immediately snapped to Dumbledore, who alone looked composed, almost as if he was enjoying the chaos. Fudge, on the other hand, was red in the face with anger. Snape was beside himself, practically vibrating with fury.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" Snape roared, his eyes burning as he pointed accusingly at Harry. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Callie flinched at the sheer volume of Snape's voice, her heart thumping in her chest. She wanted to shrink into her pillow, but she forced herself to sit up slightly, her mind racing.

"Professor Snape!" Madam Pomfrey shrieked, her voice a sharp reprimand. "Control yourself!"

Snape ignored her, his face twisted with rage. "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" he howled, jabbing a finger at Harry and Hermione, who both flinched under his glare. Spittle flew from his mouth, and Callie felt her stomach churn at the sight.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked, his voice rising with alarm. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" Snape shrieked, his eyes wild. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT—"

The tension in the room was palpable. Callie's mind raced, her instincts screaming she needed to speak up. But she couldn't gather her thoughts enough to voice anything. It was all too overwhelming.

Dumbledore, as ever, remained calm, his voice gentle but firm. "That will do, Severus," he said quietly, a note of finality in his tone. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, her face flushed with indignation. "I've been with them ever since you left!"

Dumbledore's gaze remained steady, his voice unwavering. "Well, there you have it, Severus," he said calmly, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape stood there for a moment, fuming, his face an unreadable mask of frustration and anger. He glared at Fudge, whose face was a picture of confusion and disbelief, before turning his seething gaze back to Dumbledore. The silence in the room stretched unbearably as Snape's fury simmered.

Finally, Snape spun on his heel, his robes billowing behind him, and stormed out of the ward with a final, furious glance over his shoulder. Callie let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him disappear.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," Fudge said, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him, if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," Dumbledore responded. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" Fudge puffed. "The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughing stock! Well... I'd better go and notify the Ministry..."

"And the Dementors?" Dumbledore asked. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh, yes, they'll have to go. Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy... completely out of control... No, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight. Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance..."

"Hagrid would like that," Dumbledore said, with a swift smile at Calista, Harry, and Hermione. As he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. They could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, his eyes bleary as he looked around.

"What—what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

Callie shifted in her bed, her voice soft but determined. "Yeah, I think it's time we catch each other up... on everything."

The three of them exchanged a look, unspoken understanding passing through it.

"You two go ahead," Harry then spoke, reaching for more chocolate, his face still tense but grateful for the moment of normalcy, however fleeting.

Callie bit her lip, glancing at Hermione, both of them silently agreeing it was their turn to explain. She didn't mind now. Knowing that Sirius was safe now—as safe as he could be—it was enough to give her some of her strength back.

☾⋆₊✧

The sun rose.

Pinks, yellows and oranges spilled across the sky, painting the horizon. Emerging from the forbidden forest, was a man—battered, disoriented, and utterly weary.

Remus Lupin stood at the edge of the trees, his eyes drifting to the castle before him. The familiar sight of Hogwarts loomed against the vibrant dawn, its towers casting long shadows over the grounds. He watched as owls began their morning flight, circling toward the Owlery with letters clutched in their talons.

A dull ache coursed through his body, and fresh cuts lined his arms and legs, their sting sharp against the cool morning air. His head throbbed painfully, the remnants of the transformation still clouding his thoughts.

"Good morning, Remus. I thought you'd show soon."

The voice startled him, and he whipped around, instinctively reaching for his wand—only to find it missing. His heart raced for a moment before he recognized the figure. Dumbledore stood calmly behind him, his expression unreadable save for the faint twinkle in his eyes.

Remus froze, suddenly aware of his state. His face burned with humiliation as he realized he was entirely naked, his dignity as ragged as his condition.

"You'll be needing this," Dumbledore said, holding out a robe.

Muttering a sheepish thank you, Remus took it and quickly draped it over himself, his cheeks flushed. Dumbledore waited patiently, his gaze steady but kind, as though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

"You've had a rough night, I presume?" Dumbledore said, his tone light yet knowing.

Remus remained silent, his mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous night. It had been a full moon—he knew that much—but everything beyond the moment of transformation was a blank. Why couldn't he remember?

"We should get you inside before the students begin to wake up," Dumbledore said, gesturing for him to follow. He began to turn but hesitated, glancing back at Remus. "What do you remember last?"

Remus frowned, his brow furrowing as fragments of memory clawed their way to the surface. "The last thing I remember is Cal and Sirius both yelling, and then I—" He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening. The image of the full moon swam into focus, bright and unyielding, just before the transformation overtook him. Beyond that... nothing.

"Oh Merlin," he whispered hoarsely, his face paling. "What—what have I done?"

"Everyone is okay," Dumbledore said gently, his voice steady and reassuring. "Calista and the children are recovering in the hospital wing. Sirius has been freed, alongside Hagrid's Hippogriff. They've gone into hiding—it will be much harder for the Ministry to find them now."

Remus blinked, his confusion deepening. "They—what? How?"

Dumbledore's gaze softened. "A great deal happened while you were... indisposed. Let me explain."

He then recounted the night's events from the perspective of the witnesses: the confrontation at the Shrieking Shack, Pettigrew's escape, Sirius's near capture, and the daring rescue executed by Harry and Hermione under extraordinary circumstances.

As Dumbledore spoke, pieces began to fall into place, but Remus's stomach churned with guilt. His voice wavered as he asked, "Okay... but I didn't hurt any of them, did I?"

Dumbledore's expression turned grave, and an icy weight settled in Remus's chest.

"Albus?"

"The werewolf was able to wound Calista," Dumbledore admitted softly.

Remus felt the air leave his lungs. "No— no, not her. Please tell me—"

"No bite," Dumbledore reassured him quickly, though his tone remained serious. "No life-threatening injury. But..."

"But?" Remus pressed, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Madam Pomfrey believes her eye will heal, but the wound cut too deep. She's scarred."

The words hit Remus like a physical blow, the world narrowing to a pinprick as his knees threatened to give way. "Scarred," he whispered hoarsely, the word twisting painfully in his chest and echoing throughout his mind.

I hurt her. I hurt Calista.

"Perhaps Miss Lobosca could develop something to reduce its visibility—"

But Dumbledore's words were cut off as Remus suddenly surged forward, intent on reaching the castle and his daughter. Dumbledore caught him by the wrist, his grip firm despite his gentle demeanour.

The words struck Remus like a curse, leaving him frozen. Betrayal burned deep in his chest. He had always known Snape disliked him—loathed him, even—but this? Exposing everything? His condition, his daughter's existence, and all the sacrifices he had made to protect her over the past fourteen years—it was all collapsing before his eyes.

"Get home," Dumbledore advised, his tone softening slightly. "They can't charge you with anything immediately, so long as Calista's life was not endangered prior to last night. She can remain here until the end-of-term feast, and then, hopefully, she'll be able to stay with you for the summer."

Remus could only nod, his throat too tight to form words.

"I will do everything I can to defend and protect you both," Dumbledore promised. "But you must understand—nothing now will ever be quite the same as it was."

you get some heartbreak, you get some heartbreak, we all get some heartbreak!

this chapter did very much tear me into pieces to write, and remus hurting callie is a big turning point in their relationship. like, even more so than all the lying/secrecy theres been. i honestly hadn't even planned this, it just came to me back when i was writing the start of all the action months ago. so... sorry 😬

but gosh, one more chapter till act one is finished! i loved writing through POA, it's my fav instalment of the series which i think most of us agree on. still cant believe the show is in the works... ive been pretending that it and the devil herself dont exist 😙✌️anyway one to go, then we will be getting into goblet of fire! take care my loves <3