Learning From The Ashes: Book 2, Year 4

Chapter 19

"Professor," I called, walking into the Headmaster's office.

"Calliope, what can I do for you?" He asked me as I walked forward and sat in front of him at his desk.

"I'm just thinking about something that Barty Crouch Junior said to me, sir. He said my father knows about all of my friends. He said none of them are safe. Cedric is proof of that."

Dumbledore peered over his half moon spectacles to examine me carefully. "What are you asking me, Calliope?"

"If I should leave." I said quietly. "I can't put anyone else in danger, sir. Now, because of me, Voldemort knows about Hermione, the Weasleys, Niklaus, Neville. I don't want them to get hurt."

"I am not going to tell you what to do, Calliope. But, I will tell you, you are much stronger with your friends then you could ever be alone."

"So, stay?"

"It will definitely be dangerous if you do. I do believe that a lot of people will be hurt. This is a war, after all."

"So, leave?"

Dumbledore chuckled at me before standing up and moving towards the window and gesturing me to follow him.

When I stepped up and looked out at the courtyard at all of the students enjoying the beautiful weather before our guests had to leave, my eyes locked on three people in the crowd. A girl with frizzy brown hair, a boy with messy black hair and a boy with long red hair in desperate need of a haircut.

A small smile spread onto my face as I looked down at the three of them, sitting in the courtyard. "So, stay."

Dumbledore smiled at me. "Calliope, true friends show their love in times of trouble. Not in times of happiness."

I nodded my head as I backed away from the window slowly. "Thanks, professor, but I have to go. I have some friends to get to."

As I hurried from Dumbledore's office I couldn't believe I had even considered leaving my friends. I was nothing before I met them. A broken, beaten girl that had nothing but a smile on her face and scars on her body.

I had a home now. I had a bedroom in the Weasley's attic, with a lumpy mattress on the floor and a warm knitted blanket from my God mother. I had the scar of a werewolf bite on my shoulder from where I had been attacked saving Harry. I had a burn mark on my hand from when Fred and George and I attempted to create heatless fireworks and it backfired. I had gained about 10 pounds from Ron getting me on board with his chocolate frog addiction, because apparently it's not an addiction if you actually share your stash. I had one small section of hair an inch shorter than the rest from when Hermione attempted creating a spell to fix her dead ends and apparently she still had some kinks to work out. I had my dancing shoes completely worn down to the ground from Niklaus and a lot more knowledge of plants thanks to Neville.

I had a life here now and no one was going to take that from me. I knew I had to fight the good fight and I knew at some point I would have to die to defeat my father. Until then, however, I was going to live. Not breathe. Live.

When I reached the courtyard I saw Viktor giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek and handing her a piece of paper before I was picked up and spun around.

I laughed loudly as I knew Niklaus was the culprit. "Put me down, Nicky!"

He set me on my feet and spun me around to face him before bringing me in for a tight hug. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I know what you mean." I sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do, not being able to see your handsome face everyday."

"Oh, please, you'll have another handsome face to drool over. A certain boy who lived, maybe?"