Hey guys, the reason the rating is M for this fic is because as the chapters progresses the themes will be darker, edgier, and more angsty. It will contain (in the future) explicit? sexual scenes, language, and such. Callista suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She has episodes of anxiety, depression, as well as paranoia. I don't glorify any form of disease or illness but rather give awareness to the real victims suffering from this.
Now, let's get on with the show :)
Edited: Jan. 11, 2019 ~ I'm on a roll ;)
P.S. I added some bits and pieces originally part of this chapter before that got removed. I tweaked it and put it back coz it's crucial to the plot.
As promised, Dumbledore made his visit to Mould-on-the-Wold – the present location of Raphael and Callista. This was the place where he lived during his youth. A time before his family relocated to another village, brought by the attack on his younger sister, Ariana. He immediately shook his head at the bitter memory. Only Leonardo and Grindelwald knew of his past.
He took out a small piece of parchment from his dress pocket with Raphael's handwriting on it and followed the instructions written to track their modest home. He found the cottage with no difficulty but he was clearly impressed with how strong the anti-apparition charms were in the area and the wards surrounding their home. He felt the raw, powerful, and juvenile magic pulsating through the air like electricity. It reminded him when he was in his prime.
He knocked on the door and was greeted by Raphael who was ushering him to go inside. "Albus! Quickly, come in."
"Would you like something to drink?" He inquired as he offered Dumbledore a seat.
"Tea would be lovely, Raphael," Dumbledore mused as he sat on the chair while Raphael excused himself to oblige the older man's request.
Dumbledore did find it a bit unusual to see his friend's brother behaving anything but temperamental and presumed it was because of Callista. Then, Raphael emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of biscuits while levitating a pot of tea, tea cups and saucers.
He waved his wand, using magic to prepare tea for them both. He was doing it in such a smooth, fluid manner. It was an obvious sign that even in drastic conditions, he effortlessly carried himself like a true descendant of a rich, aristocratic, pureblooded family.
"Thank you." Dumbledore took a quick sip from his sweetened tea and spoke, "You have quite a lovely home, but where is Miss Shafiq? I would like to get acquainted with her before we apparate back to Hogwarts."
Raphael set his tea cup aside and hesitated for awhile. "There is something you must know about Callista."
"What is it?" Dumbledore looked bemused.
"She has trust issues. Severe trust issues." Raphael was struggling to speak, unsure if this was something he should share about his niece.
"She experienced great pain and suffering at a young age. She used to be cheerful, affectionate, and shared so much of her love to her parents and myself. I'm sure you're quite familiar with the demise of our bloodline, but her parents' murder was the last straw. After that incident, she became withdrawn. The spark in her eyes vanished. She even ran away from home when she found out I was talking to you. She thought I was going to abandon her." He sighed and shook his head.
Dumbledore pondered over Raphael's words but something about the younger man's demeanor made him stop and realize he was battling something inside him. "You didn't tell her about the curse?"
"How did –" Raphael's eyes widened for a few seconds. Then, he quickly regained his composure, for it was Dumbledore. Somehow the man would always find out about the truth in the end. "Of course, I told her. An ancestor was cursed and these things randomly appear through generations. That's why I didn't have children. I'm going to die soon. I can't protect her anymore, Albus."
"It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more." Dumbledore simply stated.
"I am not afraid, though. I welcome death as repentance for the crimes I've committed in the past. I just don't want to leave her like this. I can't. Although, I do not fancy the thought of being murdered," Raphael chuckled darkly. "I'm the last thing she has left of a family. It's a good thing Callista charmed this cottage very well. I think it's best if I stay here for the time being."
"You mean she conjured this advanced form of magic?" Dumbledore was surprised.
"She did," he nodded with a sad smile. "That's the other reason why I fled Italy and hid her away from Voldemort. Her magic is different. It's unique... unlike anything I've ever seen before."
"What are you talking about, Uncle?" A girl not older than fifteen or sixteen gracefully walked toward the two men in the sitting room.
Her movements were precise – calculating, giving just enough space between herself and the man to attack in case he showed any sign of deceit.
Dumbledore was amused. This girl reminded him so much of his friend, Leonardo. She moved with an air of elegance and poise. She held her chin high and proud, showing no form of intimidation or fear to this foreign man before her. Physically, she must have resembled her mother. She was extraordinarily beautiful, it was dangerous.
Dumbledore did not need to use Legilimency to know what she thought of him for her eyes already spoke. Her shining, amber eyes were hostile and suspicious and continued to pierce him even as she blinked her long, dark, lashes.
"Callista, this is Professor Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was your father's good friend," Raphael said in a way to calm his niece.
"Was? No wonder it's in the past tense. He only showed up now that Father's dead," Callista spat the words. Her tone was harsh and bitter, but her voice sounded like wind chimes.
Raphael was about to open his mouth, though Dumbledore stopped him. "No need to worry, Raphael. I think Miss Shafiq and I need a little bit of time to talk. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
"Of course not." Raphael stood up and placed a hand on Callista's tensed shoulders. "Behave. Your father didn't raise you to act this way." And then, he left.
"Miss Shafiq, I am glad to finally have met you." Dumbledore smiled at her but her face remained blank.
"I am impressed. I can tell that you are a gifted, young lady. Where did you receive your education?"
"I was home-schooled," Callista retorted but her tone was less harsh than before.
"Ah. Your parents must have taught you well. Hogwarts will be pleased to have you." He stood up from his seat and made his way to the garden at the back. "Would you care to join me outside?"
Callista frowned. This man acted as if he had already been in their home before. She did not respond but reluctantly followed him outside.
Dumbledore gazed at the blooming flowers before him and touched a rose bud. "Miss Shafiq, can you make this rose bloom for me?"
She looked at the man whose eyes were twinkling with kindness. She was trying to analyze him. Was this all a facade? Suspicions and doubts were already forming in her mind.
Callista lifted her finger to touch the tip of the bud and suddenly all the flowers in the garden were in full bloom. "Child's play," she spoke, although her eyes remained mistrustful as she stared at him.
Dumbledore remained nonplussed from her scrutiny. "That's the thing about magic. You've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible to you." He chuckled with his hands behind his back and continued his slow steps around the garden.
"I do not wish to buy your trust, but there are some things better left showing than telling. Have you ever heard of Legilimency?" Dumbledore asked.
Callista pursed her lips as though she was trying to recall something from memory. "Father must have mentioned it before, but I am not good at remembering spells."
"Then, how were you able to perform such advanced anti-apparition charms and wards?" he was intrigued.
"It's in my mind. Words only understood inside my head but I can't say it out loud. I always feel it. It's everywhere... the magic –" Callista forced her mouth shut and stopped talking. She was surprised at herself for sharing more than necessary. It was strange. His presence reminded her of her father.
"Astonishing," Dumbledore commented but observe the girl's discomfort from her movements.
"I am no enemy, Miss Shafiq. I care for the safety of you and your uncle." He crouched down and took Callista's hands and placed it on his temples. "See for yourself."
And like a fog of smoke being pulled, Callista was sucked into Dumbledore's mind. She witnessed in great detail the friendship between Dumbledore, her father, and a man she did not recognize. Memories of their times together at Hogwarts, mischief and mayhem, accompanied by more serious events like the Global Wizarding War. Dumbledore carefully allowed her to only view specific memories in his mind that concentrated on his friendship with Leonardo. These were some of his cherished memories he never shared with anyone.
When she was released from his mind, Callista's heart rushed with so many emotions. She could not describe the sheer happiness she felt seeing her father in a way she has never seen him before. Stubborn tears began to fight its way in her eyes. "Thank you, Professor." She finally acknowledged him.
"It's my pleasure, Miss Shafiq." He gave the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder.
"My name is Callista," she corrected him and squeezed the hand of the older wizard who gave her one of the most precious gifts she would remember forever.