Callidora ☆ Fred Weasley

[chapter 73]

Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare

September passed in a blaze.

Between the excitement surrounding the Triwizard Tournament, the pressure of N.E.W.T. classes, and the constant mountain of homework, it felt as though the castle never slowed down.

Calli's schedule was brutal.

She was taking Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ancient Runes.

Not because she particularly wanted to.

But because she didn't know what she wanted to do after leaving Hogwarts.

Her father had never once brought it up.

Which probably meant he already had plans for her.

Marriage.

A pure-blood household.

A quiet life where she would politely smile and pour tea while men like him discussed power.

Calli imagined telling him she wanted to become a professional Quidditch player instead.

He would probably lose his mind.

In the rare, fleeting moments Calli had to herself, usually late at night when the castle had quieted and her mind refused to do the same, her thoughts had an irritating habit of drifting toward Fred.

Not in any orderly or sensible way.

Just fragments.

The way he grinned when he knew something she didn't. The way his voice dropped when he was teasing her. The way he looked at her like he was always on the verge of saying something and choosing not to.

The kiss on the train hadn't made things awkward.

If anything, it had done the opposite.

Too normal.

And Calli wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.

Because a part of her had expected it to change something. Shift something between them.

Instead, they slipped right back into their usual rhythm.

Except now, she noticed him more.

At breakfast, at lunch, her eyes would drift without permission, finding him across the hall. More often than not, he would already be looking at her.

They'd both freeze.

Blush.

Then immediately look away and pretend nothing had happened.

Lucy had taken one look at this pattern and declared it "emotional constipation," much to Stella's visible horror.

Calli had nearly choked on her pumpkin juice.

And beneath all of that, there was something else she missed.

Flying.

Not on a broom.

Not Quidditch.

But really flying.

The rush of wind against her wings, the silence of the sky, the freedom of it. Wandering the grounds at night in her Thestral form, unseen and untouchable.

She hadn't transformed once since term started.

There simply wasn't time.

Between classes, studying, prefect duties, and everything else, Calli barely had time to breathe.