the valerian in your thoughts

chapter seven

December 1991

'How is it going so far, dear?'

Callie had arrived at home late in the afternoon after having been picked up by Colonel, a fairly old man with spikey hair and almost the same glass eye the famous auror Alastor Moody possessed. He had been the family's chauffeur and loyal servant for decades, from when he had joined the Michon manor as a boy, when it was still under Callie's grandfather and one of his wives, until the very day.

It had been a pleasure to see his wrinkly, friendly face at platform 9 ¾, yet it reminded Callie of one thing. Now, she wasn't at school anymore. Callie was Felicia and Olivier's Michon's daughter again, not the Michon Slytherin. And mother was expecting an answer.

'Splendid, I must say.', she replied with a short smile, putting down her cutlery next to her plate with vegetables and meat on it to intertwine her hands, 'I am succeeding in every class, and you were right father, the students there are much easier to bear than the French.'

Olivier Michon laughed with his daughter, yet his wife wasn't pleased.

'Beauxbatons is still my old school, darling.', Felicia Michon uttered a bit stern, 'I forbid you from taking that mocking tone on it. C'est une honte.'

Callie lowered her head and nodded.

'I'm sorry, mother.'

They all continued eating.

'Now, what about your house?', her mother asked, snapping her fingers to have Magda, the eldest maid, take her half-filled plate back to the kitchen. The old lady vanished without a word again. 'I have been glad to hear that you were sorted in Slytherin like your father before you.'

At his wife's words, Olivier started stroking his daughter's hair gently and smiled with pride.

He had gotten to read the letter last, yet he was still the most excited and the proudest to have her in in his old house; the one he had felt the most at home in.

Callie looked at her parents lovingly.

'I couldn't be more grateful.' – she hesitated not briefly enough – 'They have all been very welcoming.'

Her parents shared a glance, short yet long enough for Callie to notice the sparkle in their eyes. Her father retraced his hand.

'Narcissa has told me that you are friends with Blaise Zabini and her son.', her mother revealed with a charming smile, 'J'ai été contente de la connais, I believe that they are good company.'

'And safe one's, too.', her father added.

Callie was still focused on what her mother had just said.

Leaning forward a bit, she said, 'She has told you that?'

'Bien sur. The Malfoy boy mentioned it.'

Callie rolled her eyes indiscreetly, picking up knife and fork to continue working on her food, only now realizing she had put it down again. She cut her meat with a bit of more aggression than necessary.

'Malfoy certainly has not mentioned us to be friends.', she said, biting into her chicken, 'I bare him, but I would never be on a closer level to him, mother.'

'The Malfoy's are a good family.', father interrupted, calling for more wine with a finger snap, 'I wish you to stay close to their son. You two should get along well, for all of our sake's.'

He winked while Joseph poured him another glass and vanished as quick as Madga had before.

Callie nodded stiffly, 'Fine. I shall try.'