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Crouch the Madman
The next morning, Sunday, the Great Hall was quieter than usual breakfast.
Late risers.
Lingering breakfasts.
Owls drifting lazily in and out through the high windows.
Calli sat at the Slytherin table, one leg tucked beneath her, a copy of the Daily Prophet spread open in front of her.
Her eyes skimmed the page.
A Ministry witch missing.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
"Calli."
She didn't look up.
"Calli."
Still nothing.
"Uh, Calli." Stella tried again, slower this time.
Calli hummed absently, turning the page.
"You have visitors?"
That made her look up.
The paper lowered.
Three figures stood across from her.
Harry.
Ron.
Hermione.
All of them looking unusually serious.
Calli blinked once.
"Anything I can help you three with?" She asked, folding the paper neatly.
None of them answered immediately.
That alone was enough to make Stella and Lucy exchange a look.
"Can we have a word?" Hermione asked.
Then glanced around the Hall.
"In private?"
Calli's eyes flicked briefly to her friends.
Lucy raised a brow.
Stella just watched, observant as ever.
Calli nodded once.
"Alright."
She collected her things and stood.
"Don't wait for me." She added lightly to the girls.
Lucy snorted.
"Oh, we won't."
They didn't speak as they left the Hall.
Or as they crossed the Entrance Hall.
Or even as they stepped outside.
The air was cold again, the wind sharper near the lake.
YOU ARE READING
Callidora ☆ Fred Weasley
FanfictionCallidora 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...
