Late September brought with it colder evenings.
The leaves had just begun turning gold around the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and the wind carried the sharp scent of approaching autumn.
Calli welcomed it.
She needed something to clear her head.
Another detention.
Another promise broken.
She had lasted nearly a month.
Then Umbridge had spent an entire lesson praising Cornelius Fudge, explaining how fortunate Hogwarts was to have such wise Ministry leadership guiding it toward a brighter future.
Calli had tried.
Merlin knew she had tried.
She had counted to ten.
Then twenty.
She had even thought of Fred's face when he'd asked her not to earn another detention.
It hadn't been enough.
"Professor." She'd said, her voice dangerously calm. "I was under the impression this was Defence Against the Dark Arts, not an advertisement for the Ministry."
Half the class had stopped writing.
Umbridge's smile had only widened.
"Though..." Calli had continued before she could stop herself. "I suppose it doesn't make much difference. We don't seem to be learning Defence Against the Dark Arts either. and praising Fudge seems to be the only thing you're capable of."
Silence.
"Detention, Miss Nott."
Sweet.
Soft.
Almost delighted.
Calli had known immediately she'd made a mistake.
Now, hours later, she stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, flexing her right hand.
The words I must not tell lies had faded over the previous weeks.
Tonight they burned angry red once more.
The skin had split open in places.
Fresh blood dripped out every time she flexed her hand.
She stepped deeper into the forest.
Branches whispered overhead.
The familiar path soon gave way to one only she seemed to know.
A clearing opened between ancient trees.
The herd was already there.
Some grazed quietly.
Others rested with their enormous black wings folded neatly against skeletal bodies.
The moment Calli stepped into the clearing, several heads lifted.
They recognised her immediately.
One by one they approached without fear.
She smiled despite everything.
"Hello."
The oldest Thestral reached her first.
Its silver eyes regarded her calmly before it lowered its narrow head.
Instead of nudging her shoulder as it usually did, it gently brushed its muzzle against her injured hand.
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...
