The days blurred together.
Work filled the hours. Observation filled the spaces in between. Control held everything in place, steady and unyielding.
Hold it together.
Just a little longer.
September was close.
Hogwarts.
Distance.
Something that almost felt like safety.
Calli clung to that thought more than she wanted to admit. Not because it was certain but because it was enough.
Her sanity felt fragile now, stretched thin, cracks forming where no one could see. But it held.
Barely.
It would last until then.
It had to.
Sleep stopped being rest. The dreams no longer stayed in one place. They slipped, shifted, bled into one another without warning.
One moment, she was back in that circular room; cold blue candlelight flickering against stone, the floor turning beneath her feet, doors refusing to stay where they should, the entire space shifting just enough to make her doubt her own sense of direction.
The next, Fred.
Too close. Always too close. Smiling like nothing had changed, like she hadn't left that train compartment at all.
And then the graveyard.
Even though she wasn't there, her mind built the scene brick by brick to torment her.
Just enough.
A flash of green.
A body hitting the ground.
Cedric, motionless.
Too still.
That was always the moment that tore her awake.
Her breath would catch, sharp and sudden. Her stomach would twist, violent and immediate, and she would barely make it out of bed before emptying her stomach.
Every time.
As if her body refused to let her forget, even when her mind tried to bury it.
Some nights were worse.
Not memories.
Not entirely.
Possibilities.
Her father standing before them.
Her and Theo side by side.
Sleeves pushed back. Skin exposed.
The mark.
She never saw it fully, but she felt it; the burning, searing it into place. Permanent. Claimed.
Owned.
Calli always woke before the image could settle, before it could become real.
But the feeling lingered.
It stayed under her skin, quiet and persistent.
As if it was already there.
Waiting.
By morning, none of it showed.
It couldn't.
She sat at the breakfast table, posture perfect, movements controlled, as if she had slept through the night without interruption.
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...
