Callidora Nott has always known exactly what is expected of her.
As the daughter of one of Britain's oldest pure-blood families, her future has already been carefully planned; alliances, power, and a life shaped by tradition she never chose. At home...
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Mad Eye is Quite Mad?
The buzz about the Triwizard Tournament did not quiet down for the rest of the day.
Students filled the corridors arguing, speculating, and loudly complaining.
Some were furious about the age restriction.
Others were already placing bets on who the Hogwarts champion would be.
"I heard Montague wants to be it." Lucy said with a visible shiver as the girls walked toward Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. "That big oaf."
Calli snorted.
"Charming."
"Not going to lie." Stella admitted quietly, hugging her books a little tighter. "I'm nervous about this class."
She glanced toward the classroom door.
"Did you see how he looks?"
Calli knew exactly who she meant.
The new professor: Alastor Moody.
Rumours had already spread through the castle that morning.
One of them involved Draco Malfoy.
"Apparently he transfigured Draco into a ferret earlier." Lucy whispered.
The three girls burst into giggles.
"Serves him right." Calli muttered.
They slipped into the classroom and took their usual seats. The Gryffindors quickly filled the desks behind them.
Calli placed her copy of Confronting the Faceless on the desk.
"Put those away." Moody grumbled immediately, stomping toward his desk with his uneven gait.
Calli glanced up.
His magical eye was already swivelling around the room.
"I like him already." Fred whispered behind her.
"Anything to share with the class, Weasley?"
Moody hadn't even turned around.
The room went silent.
His magical eye rolled backward in its socket, staring directly at Fred through the back of his head.
"Know there's no fooling around in my class."
He turned slowly.
"Arthur's kid, I presume? Yes, yes... your father got me out of a very tight corner."
Fred blinked.
Moody grunted and turned back to the board.
With several sharp flicks of chalk, he wrote two words.
