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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The Third Task
As the enchanted ceiling slowly shifted from bright blue to a deep, dusky purple, a hush began to fall over the Great Hall.
Dumbledore rose to his feet.
"Ladies and gentlemen." He said, his voice carrying easily through the hall. "In five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task."
The room stilled completely.
"Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
The hall erupted.
Cheers.
Applause.
Students jumping to their feet, calling out encouragement as the champions stood.
Calli felt it ripple through her, that energy.
That anticipation.
She stood with the rest of them, craning slightly as Cedric passed nearby.
Being closer to the doors, she managed to reach out, squeezing his arm briefly.
"Good luck!" She said.
Cedric glanced at her and smiled.
That easy, confident, Cedric Diggory smile.
"Thanks!" He said, before being swept along with the others.
Fleur, Viktor, Harry.
All disappearing out of the hall, surrounded by noise and well-wishes.
Calli watched them go.
A strange feeling settling in her chest.
Excitement.
"Come on!" Lucy said, already standing. "Best seats or I riot."
"Please don't." Stella murmured, rising more gracefully.
Fred appeared at Calli's side again, like he always did.
Effortless.
"You ready?" He asked.
Calli glanced toward the doors where the champions had just disappeared.
Then back at him.
"Yeah." She said.
"I fear Mum will riot if you don't visit us this summer."
"I think she may already be planning a wedding." George added cheerfully from the other side.
