Callidora ☆ Fred Weasley

[chapter 1]

The Letter With the Lion

Callidora Nott woke on the morning of her eleventh birthday with the unmistakable feeling that something wonderful was about to happen.

Sunlight slipped through the tall windows of her bedroom, painting pale golden stripes across the floor and creeping slowly up the dark green hangings of her bed.

For a moment she laid perfectly still.

Listening.

Nott Manor was never truly quiet. The ancient house creaked and sighed as though it had opinions about everything that happened inside it.

But this morning... silence.

Good.

If she was lucky, very lucky, she might reach the kitchens before her father woke.

Calli slid out of bed and wrapped her dressing gown tightly around herself. The cold stone floor made her shiver as she tiptoed toward the door.

The corridors of Nott Manor were long and shadowy, lined with ancient portraits of stern witches and wizards whose narrow eyes seemed to follow her everywhere.

Most were asleep.

One elderly wizard snored loudly enough to rattle his frame.

Another portrait, a thin witch with sharp cheekbones, her paternal grandmother, opened one eye as Calli crept past.

"Up early again, child?" she muttered.

Calli pressed a finger to her lips and continued down the staircase as quietly as a Kneazle stalking prey.

At the bottom of the stairs she paused.

Still quiet.

Perfect.

She slipped into the kitchen.

Warmth rushed out to meet her.

The enormous room glowed with golden light from the hearth. Copper pans hung from the ceiling beams, and the long wooden table was already covered with plates of honey pastries, fresh bread, and a steaming pot of cinnamon tea.

"Good morning, Mistress Nott!"

A house-elf appeared beside the table with a soft pop and bowed so deeply her ears brushed the floor.

Calli sighed.

"Tinky," she said patiently, "I've told you a hundred times, call me Calli when we're alone."

The small elf straightened at once, wringing her hands.

"Yes, Miss- Calli." she corrected quickly, her large eyes shining with relief.

Tinky had been in the manor for as long as Calli could remember. After her mother's untimely demise, the elf had been the one to sneak her honey cakes, tell her stories about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and tuck blankets around her shoulders when she fell asleep in the library.

In Calli's mind, Tinky wasn't a servant.

She was family.

Another elf hurried forward carrying a polished silver tray.

"Mail for you, Miss Calli." said Chorky proudly.

Calli blinked.

"Mail?"

Chorky held out a thick envelope.

Calli froze.

The parchment was yellowish and heavy, sealed with deep red wax.