"Dumbledore," Sirius greeted calmly, Remus just behind him. They stood in the doorway to his office at Hogwarts, both glad they finally had the chance to discuss an important matter with him. It had been pressing on them for a while now; and finally, they thought, it could be resolved.

"Ah, Sirius, Remus. Come in, join me." He flicked his wand and conjured two very comfy-looking armchairs. "Sit, sit. We have matters to discuss."

"I don't think this will take very long," Sirius said. He didn't sit down. "You seem determined not to let me have custody of Harry and Calla, despite the will of their parents, and over the last thirteen years have been equally determined not to let Remus care for them over an extended period of time. Despite, from what I've heard, the Dursleys treating both of them awfully. They had to run away last Summer, Dumbledore, as you well know and still you would not relent. I'm not asking you to let me care for them. I am telling you that I am not going to let them live in a house where they are not loved."

"With respect, Sirius, neither of you know the full story."

"We know enough to know that you can't make them stay there any longer, nor will we allow you to. This meeting is really just a formality."

"Sirius, Remus, I understand your case. But the Potters must not leave Privet Drive. When Lily died for Harry, her love protected her son. That love lives on in her blood. Her sister."

"And Calla?" Remus asked sharply.

"By extension, the blood protection also covers Calla," Dumbledore said, not answering the question Remus had intended. "The moment they leave for good, when they stop calling Privet Drive home, that protection will disintegrate."

"That place has never been their home!" Remus spluttered. "I have told you this, Dumbledore, I told you of the lack of love for them and I never knew the full story of it all! Did you know they were kept in a cupboard?" Dumbledore was silent. "Neither did I until a few months ago. Harry let it slip. The Dursleys hid that fact and Calla and Harry for whatever reason never told me. Things seem to have been worse there than they ever actually told me, and because of my condition I was never around enough to truly stop it or to realise the gravity of the situation. And because you forbade me to intervene, to interfere with the Dursleys' raising of Calla and Harry beyond the odd visit, despite what I or they wanted. last Summer, Dumbledore, things reached a breaking point. They had to run away. That is not a home, Dumbledore! Petunia would not protect those children if she had any say in the matter!"

"I disagree. Love-"

"You don't know them," Remus said lowly. "Tell me, if Sirius had never gone to Azkaban, would you have made them remain with the Dursleys?"

"It would be for their own safety."

"Safety?" Sirius barked. "What safety can Muggles who don't care for them, offer Harry and Calla that we can not?"

"I have explained-"

"It's not good enough!" Sirius said furiously. Dumbledore's eyes lost their familiar twinkle. "You cannot force them to remain there."

"You must understand," Dumbledore said quietly. "If Harry and Calla were to permanently leave that household, they would be in grave danger."

"They have always been in grave danger!" Remus snapped. "Every year at Hogwarts, under your protection, they have been in danger! You know what Calla has seen, Dumbledore, and I'm sure you know that she is right! You know what is coming; let us protect our godchildren. My condition was one thing, but Sirius is a free man and it is in James and Lily's will-"

"I am never going to agree with you on this," said Dumbledore.

"You cannot-"

"Remus, Sirius, I will not allow you to remove Harry and Calla from their home."

"That place is not their home!" Sirius shouted. "They are children, they should be somewhere they are loved! With people they trust to protect them! Voldemort robbed them of that chance once; I won't let you rob them of it again!" Dumbledore seemed to falter for a second, which Remus was quick to take advantage of.

"If blood protection is so important," Remus said quietly, quite in contrast to Sirius' volume, "they are protected by one another."

"That is not how it works. Neither is equipped to protect the other, should it come to-"

"Neither are those Muggles!" Sirius cried. "Aren't you listening, Dumbledore? When I left my home, you were happy to let me live with James."

"With respect, Sirius, the situation is very different. They are two of the most important children in our world right now, and Lord Voldemort-"

"They still deserved a home!" Sirius shouted. "They need to be with people they trust, people who will protect them and know how."

"I don't believe Calla and Harry have called the Dursley house home in years," Remus said quietly. "But if you won't agree, then fine. We'll see you at the Ministry."

Xx

Dear Calla and Harry,

After discussing the matter with Sirius, and Arthur Weasley, we've gotten things in order enough for the two of you to go the Burrow for your birthday with us. Arthur and Molly have been incredibly kind in allowing this, as Sirius is still in the process of finding somewhere to stay. He has his family's old house but he would rather not stay there, so we're looking at the moment. Ron has apparently already told Hermione, but Calla, Molly says she's more than happy for Padma and Daphne to go too.

I'll come and pick the two of you up tomorrow at one o'clock. I'm sure Petunia won't mind. Sirius and I are both so excited to see you.

See you tomorrow,

Remus

Calla read over Remus' last letter after breakfast on the morning of her birthday, which the Dursleys had once again completely ignored until she'd informed them Remus was coming, at which point Aunt Petunia had almost plunged into hysterics about how she and Harry seemed to think they could come and go as they pleased and got herself very worked about whatever the neighbours would think. Harry had managed to quiet her with a reminder about Sirius - who, conveniently, they had not told Aunt Petunia had been found innocent - and the two of them had gone up to their room to get changed.

"Are Daphne and Padma definitely coming?" Harry asked Calla worriedly as she pleated her hair.

"They said they were," she replied. "Is Hermione?"

"Ron said she was." He ran a comb through his hair, glared at the mirror, and gave up.

"Good. I think I'll go to Mairi's before Remus gets here."

"You're always at Mairi's," Harry muttered.

"You know you could easily just come with me," Calla huffed, tying the end of her right pleat and starting on the left. "Mairi said she thought you were cool."

"I'm not so sure she thinks that."

The first few times Calla had seen Mairi, Harry had come with her, but apparently Harry didn't think Mairi liked him and preferred to mope in their bedroom reading about Quidditch. Calla wasn't sure she'd ever understand the reasoning behind it. "Fine then, if you want to be boring. I'll be back at twelve."

She finished off her other pleat and laced up her trainers, sticking her wand into a small over-the-shoulder bag. "Cool," Harry said, taking out a glossy orange magazine about the Chudley Cannons - Calla was sure Ron had lent it to him. "See you then."

She rolled her eyes as she left, not bothering to tell Aunt Petunia where she was headed. She'd just get moaned at. Dudley went out the door just after her, and they shared an awkward glance. "Where are you going?" he asked abruptly.

"Where are you going, Diddykins?"

His cheeks went red. "The Polkisses."

"Ah. Enjoy."

"You haven't answered me yet!"

She shrugged. "Do I need to? Go on, you'll be late."

She waggled her fingers and he yelled as he hurried out the door and didn't say anything more as she set off down the street, turning into Privet Park. Mairi was already sat on the doorstep, in a loose fitting vest and shorts for the late July heat. "Are you not roasting?" was the first thing she said when she spotted Calla by the gate in her jeans and overlarge dark grey t-shirt, pulled in by a belt at her waist. Truth be told, she didn't have much in the way of other clothes, apart from robes, and even then those were few and she was getting tall. It would probably be more economical if she got new clothes next Summer rather than this one, because she was certain she'd do nothing but grow now.

"I'm fine," she told Mairi. "But I could go for ice cream."

"God, yeah," Mairi said, coming over. "I take it Harry didn't come out today?"

"Nah, he's staying inside this morning. We're going to our friend's this afternoon for our birthday."

"It's your birthday?" asked Mairi loudly, staring at her. "Why didn't you say?"

"It's not a big deal," Calla said, shrugging. A woman who had been walking her dog looked over to glare at them. "We don't usually do anything for it. This is the first time."

"No way," Mairi said. "Like, this is your first birthday party?"

"I guess," Calla said. "Like I said, we don't do much for it."

"Not even when you were little?"

Calla shook her head. Mairi's mouth was hanging open. "Right, okay, I was just going to suggest the corner shop for ice cream, but we have to get you a sundae. All the works."

"It's really fine," Calla giggled. "I need to be back for twelve anyway, we're getting picked up at one."

"We'll make it." Mairi waved a dismissive hand. "Come on. Let's run."

She grabbed Calla's hand and peeled off along the street, dragging Calla with her. "Mairi!" she shrieked, feet thumping over the pavement.

"Keep up, Calla!" she called back, grinning. "Bloody slowcoach!"

"I am not!" Calla protested, bursting into a mad sort of laugh. "Mairi!"

"Hello, Mrs Jenkins!" Mairi called to one of the neighbours who, like most of the neighbours, was glaring at her. "We've got a very important mission!"

"Mairi, shut up!" Calla laughed, breaking her hand from Mairi's grip. They slowed at the traffic lights. "Bet you couldn't beat me in a race."

"I totally could," Mairi said, beaming. "Like I said. Slowcoach."

"Fine." The traffic lights changed. "Race you."

She didn't know quite what had come over her but she took off sprinting at the sign of the green man, practically flying over the pavements, her heavy pleats thumping against her shoulders. Mairi was calling after her, footsteps heavy behind Calla's, and she grinned, feeling her chest heave and her breath surge as she ran as fast as she possibly could along the street.

She finally stopped around the corner at the little ice cream shop on the high street, panting heavily. "You're mad," Mairi said, beaming as she joined her.

"I won," Calla panted.

"You had a head start."

"You're a bit of a sore loser."

She grinned at Mairi, who despite what she said was beaming back at her, and felt her stomach swoop a little. She blinked, and straightened up, recovering herself. "Come on in then. Ice cream sundaes. We've only got until twelve." It was half past ten now.

"We could do two in that time," Mairi said, grinning as they went inside. The little bell above the door tinkled sweetly, and Mairi tugged Calla along to a little table by the window, handing her a menu. "I'm buying today," she said. "I've got English notes now and everything; I kept getting funny looks for having Scottish ones still."

"Scotland has different bank notes?" Calla asked, browsing the menu.

Mairi stared at her. "Well, yeah, obviously. How've you never gotten a Bank of Scotland note before?"

Oh. Calla bit back a curse word. "I told you we don't get out much," she said quickly. "I only take English notes with me but I hardly ever use them and - and we're not allowed to leave the school grounds until fourth year."

"Really?" Mairi raised her eyebrows. "I swear every time I hear about your school it just gets weirder and weirder."

She didn't know the half of it, Calla thought, as she tried to decide between a strawberry and chocolate fudge sundae. "They have birthday cake sundaes!" Mairi said suddenly, grabbing Calla's menu and pointing. "You have to get that one, Calla!"

She giggled. "Alright, then. What are you having?"

"Well, they don't have tablet flavour, which is appalling, so I'm going to go chocolate fudge."

Mairi winked as she stood up. "Do you want a drink of anything with it?"

"I'm fine," Calla told her. "Are you sure you don't want me to buy?"

"It's your birthday," Mairi said, shaking her head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'll be back in a minute."

Smiling gently, Calla turned away and looked out the window, crossing her legs. Even with the sweltering heat, the street outside looked peaceful and calm, and everyone seemed content in the midst of the school holidays. A little girl clung to a bright yellow balloon, skipping along the street, while her sister chased after her. It was hard to think that Pettigrew was still out there, somewhere beyond this town and England, but still out there; but it was difficult imagine anything bad reaching her on a day like this.

"They'll be over in five minutes," Mairi said, startling Calla out of her thoughts as she slipped into her own seat. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Just thinking about stuff."

"Like?"

"Nothing important. School stuff," she lied.

"Ugh, I don't even want to talk about school! Mum showed me it yesterday, and apparently she spoke to the Headmaster over the phone and he sounds about as English as you can get."

"Which means?"

"Posh twat." Calla giggled. "Don't laugh, you sound posh as well."

"I don't!" Calla protested.

"You don't think it, but you do." Mairi grinned, leaning back in her chair. "You're all posh to me."

"Shut up," she laughed, tugging her pleat behind her shoulder. "You should meet my friend Daphne. She's posh."

"I don't think I want to," Mairi said. "I mean, if she's posh by your standards she might as well be bloody Diana."

"What's wrong with Diana?"

"Nothing's wrong with Diana," Mairi said. "But she's posh, isn't she? Bit less posh than the actual royal arseholes, but she's still posh."

"Right," Calla laughed. She already knew Mairi didn't like the royal family much, even though her mum did. Aunt Petunia simply adored the monarchy and the queen, so naturally, Calla hated it. "So how posh am I on your scale then?"

"At least a seven and a half," Mairi said. "But six is the baseline for England."

"Six?" Calla giggled. "Why?"

"Tories," said Mairi simply. "You're all bloody Tories."

The waitress came over then, setting down two sundaes for them. "Birthday cake and chocolate fudge sundaes?" They nodded. "Enjoy."

The sundae looked fantastic, Calla had to admit. Mairi was watching her with an expectant grin. "What?"

"Try it."

"I can't with you watching me!"

"Oh, sorry, I'll shut my eyes like it's hide and seek!"

Calla laughed at that, and stuck her spoon in the ice cream, taking a scoop. It was really, really good. "You were right," she told Mairi. "This is so good."

"Told you!" Mairi grinned as she tucked into her own sundae.

They ate in peace a moment, Calla's eyes flicking up to Mairi every now and then. "So who is this friend you and Harry are going over to later?"

Calla swallowed. "Ron. He's Harry's best friend, but he's really nice. Some of our other friends are coming too; I mentioned Daphne, and the other girls, Padma and Hermione."

"Sounds cute," Mairi said. "My friends from home threw me a party before I left; since I wouldn't have anyone to celebrate with."

"When's your birthday?" Calla asked.

"August 19th. Usually it's right when we go back to school, but apparently English schools go back later than Scottish ones."

"Do most Scottish schools go back later?" Calla asked, blinking. Mairi raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure your school's in Scotland?"

"Pretty sure," Calla replied, laughing awkwardly. "Takes long enough to get there."

"I can imagine. Still, I think I'd hate boarding school. Too posh."

"Isn't Edinburgh meant to be quite posh, though?" Calla asked, recalling something Isobel liked to point out to one of the Ravenclaws in the year above, and Mairi reddened.

"No!" Calla giggled at Mairi's horrified reaction. "Absolutely not, I'm offended you'd even say that!"

"I feel like that's denial."

Mairi pulled a face, shaking her head at Calla. "Piss off."

"Definitely denial," said Calla happily, and took another scoop of her ice cream. "My friend's from Scotland, she says Edinburgh's definitely posh."

"Your friend from Scotland also goes to your posh boarding school," Mairi said, pointing sharply with the end of her spoon. "It doesn't count."

"Fair." Calla smirked as she finished off the rest of her ice cream, lounging back on her chair. Mairi was looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Mairi said quickly. "Just... Thinking." Calla raised her eyebrows. "It'll be lonely when you go away for school."

"Yeah." She hadn't told Mairi anything about the prospect of her going to stay with Sirius and Remus - it was still technically up in the air - but knew that even if she had to remain with the Dursleys a little longer, she likely wouldn't be back next Summer. Or she hoped not, even if she did like Mairi. "You'll be alright though. I'm sure you'll make loads of friends at Stonewall."

"Doubt it."

"You will," Calla said, shaking her head. "They'll like you."

"Yeah," Mairi still looked far away. "I guess if anyone gives me shit I can just fight them."

Calla spluttered. "Yeah," she said, laughing. "That's - that's the spirit, Mairi."

They returned to Privet Drive at ten to twelve, when the sun was getting even hotter and beating, boiling on their heads. "I'm shocked you haven't gotten a sunburn yet," Mairi said, as they got to the path outside Number Four.

She had half a mind to make a joke about magic, except the window was open and Aunt Petunia was glaring out of it. "It's a miracle," she said drily, and Aunt Petunia still frowned. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mairi."

"You better," Mairi replied, stepping away. "And enjoy your birthday!"

She wrenched the door open and was about to scamper up her room when Aunt Petunia came out into the hallway. "I'm surprised you returned," she said shrilly. "I know you've been sneaking off with that girl, I'll have you know, the neighbours don't approve!"

"Right," Calla said. "Sorry about that."

She made to continue up the stairs, but Aunt Petunia grabbed her wrist. "I won't have you making a fool of my family," she said sharply.

"I don't intend to," Calla replied, wresting Aunt Petunia's grip away from her. "Can I go to my room now?"

Aunt Petunia pinched her lips, but didn't say no, so Calla went on upstairs, to where Harry was still reading Quidditch Through the Ages on his bed. "Is that all you read?" she asked, flopping down onto her own bed.

"No," Harry said shortly, glaring over at her. "It's just interesting."

"So it is," she teased, grinning. He pulled a face as Calla took a book off the shelf - 'Rebecca' by Daphne du Maurier, which Hermione had lent to her - and sat down to read the first couple of chapters before Remus arrived.

Her scar prickled as she did so, and her hand reached up to it instinctively, massaging the irritated skin. She caught Harry glance at her and smiled weakly. "Yours is annoying you too?" he asked quietly.

"Is yours..."

"A little. It's not sore, just irritating. Feels a bit like I've got a rash."

"Yeah." Calla shrugged, opening her book. "I suppose it's nothing to worry about."

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again, she read.

"You still haven't told Remus, have you?" Harry asked. She glanced up.

"No. I don't need to worry him about it. It happens to me all the time."

"Yeah, but you always have your visions then, don't you? It's just hurting on its own."

"It's probably fine. But if yours is hurting..."

"It's probably fine too." But Harry didn't look certain, and Calla didn't feel certain either. "Maybe I've been bitten by a bug or something and not realised."

"Maybe." Calla bit her lip. "If it does hurt though, properly hurts, you will say something?"

"You won't."

"I don't need to," Calla said. "So no, I won't." She gave him a pointed look and then gestured to her book; Harry seemed to get the message, for he didn't bring the matter up again.

At a quarter to one, Calla redid her pleats so they were neat again, and put on some light makeup for the occasion, before changing into more Wizard appropriate clothes, which she knew Aunt Petunia wouldn't appreciate, but which she did. Harry, predictably, stayed in his jeans and t-shirt until two minutes before Remus arrived he asked if Calla thought he should put something else on, at which point she just sighed at him and said it was too late; which it was, as they were soon being called downstairs.

Aunt Petunia stared as they did. "What are you wearing?" she asked shrilly, pointing at Calla.

"Clothes," she said plainly, sweeping back the flaps of her robes.

"Those - aren't - normal... Clothes."

"Well, no," Calla said, shrugging as she pushed past Aunt Petunia into the living room where Dudley was seated, eyes wide as he stared at her. "But I like them."

"You cannot wear those... Things in this house!"

"I think I can," she said quietly, shaking her head. "And I believe Remus would agree."

As if on cue, there was a sharp knock at the door. Aunt Petunia glared at Calla, but went to answer it. Dudley was still staring. "You probably could have waited to change," Harry whispered.

"I didn't want to show up dressed like that," Calla whispered back. "And it is quite amusing."

"Yeah, until we get locked in our room."

"She wouldn't do that," Calla said. "She's too freaked out by Sirius at the moment; maybe Uncle Vernon would have, but not Aunt Petunia. And he can't do anything right now, so."

"You two!" called Aunt Petunia's clipped voice. "Come here!"

Calla shot Dudley a grin as she got up, heading into the hallway. Remus was there, smiling in his best Muggle-like clothes, and behind him- "Sirius!" Harry said, rushing over. "I didn't expect you!"

"Well, I wanted to meet this sister of Lily's," Sirius said. He, unlike Remus, was wearing full wizarding robes, even more conspicuous than Calla (at least she could get away with her outfit somewhat, since it at least resembled the Muggle fashions she liked). "Seeing as she never came to the wedding."

Aunt Petunia had gone pale. "Vernon and I had other engagements."

"I'm sure," said Sirius coldly. Remus gave him a look and he brightened. "Well then! We won't keep you, I can see your neighbours are already giving us some stares." Aunt Petunia pressed her lips tightly together. "Harry. Calla. Happy birthday."

"Thanks," said Calla awkwardly. "Um..."

"Who's this?" Dudley has just wandered into the hallway, never one to miss out on the action.

"Sirius Black," said Sirius, stepping forward. Dudley's eyes widened as he took in Sirius' attire and he stepped back. "Harry's godfather."

Dudley looked to Aunt Petunia in terror; he'd heard the story of Sirius Black, or part of it. "Mum?"

"They were just going, Diddykins," Aunt Petunia cooed, shooting Calla and Harry venomous glares. "Weren't you?"

"Sure," Calla said, rushing forward. She grinned at Remus. "I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. Matilda!"

Matilda, who had been skulking at the edge of the wall, darted forward. Aunt Petunia shrieked as Calla gathered her into her arms. "You let that thing loose around the house?"

"She's a cat," Calla huffed. "A perfectly normal cat. And she's lovely."

"We'll be going, now, Petunia," said Remus. Matilda purred, burrowing herself in Calla's arms. "We'll see you this evening when we bring Calla and Harry back."

Aunt Petunia made a frustrated sound and the moment they were out the door, she slammed it in their faces. "That went well," Harry said drily.

"Yes, didn't it just? I had wondered if Petunia was as much a bore as Lily always said she was."

"Probably," Harry said, grinning as they set off down the street. They ducked into a quiet little path out of the view of Muggles and Remus and Sirius held out their arms to them. Calla took Remus' gladly and squeezed Matilda tight.

She felt again like being shoved down a narrow tube, and squeezed her eyes shut until she felt like she'd come out the other end, stumbling onto the grass. Matilda hissed as they landed. "Here we are," said Remus brightly. "That wasn't too awful."

When Calla opened her eyes she saw Matilda looking shocked, hair sticking up and eyes wide in indignation. "Sorry, girl," she whispered. "It's not too bad once you get used to it."

Matilda looked like she would never want to Apparate again, which Calla thought was quite fair. She'd felt much the same her first time around. She glanced up, and then stared. And stared some more.

There was a house in front of them that looked more like four houses stacked haphazardly one on top of the other, with a large, bright orange roof. Smoke curled cheerfully from the crooked chimney, and she could spot chickens flapping about in a coop off to the side. "Are you sure we've got the right place?" Harry asked, frowning.

Not a moment after he'd asked, the front door was thrust open and Mrs. Weasley popped her head out. "Ah, I thought that was you! Come in, come in! Oh, it's lovely to see you, Harry, Calla, dears."

Calla caught her eyeing Sirius nervously, but she smiled at Remus. "I'm ever so glad the weather's nice, we set up some tables in the back garden. Hermione, Padma and Daphne are already waiting there, dears. Ron!"

Ron poked his head out of a door, and split into a grin. "Harry!"

"Hey, Ron."

"Happy birthday! Can I go out now, Mum? Ginny says she can do the rest."

"Does she now?" Mrs Weasley chuckled. "On you go then, Ron."

"Thanks, Mum. Follow me."

"We'll give you a hand in the kitchen, Molly," said Remus.

"Oh, thank you, Remus."

"I can help if you want," Calla said, smiling.

"No, no, dear, it's your birthday. Go on with Ron."

Calla stared around as Ron led them through the house; among other things, there was a large clock with nine hands on it, a pair of knitting needles knitting a bright orange scarf, and a very large green pot plant which twisted and swished around in the corner of the living room. "It's not much," Ron said, as Calla spied a slightly sparkly armchair which rocked itself back and forth, "but it's home."

"It's wonderful," Harry said, looking around him as Ron opened another door. They were confronted by bright sunlight, and just as Calla's eyes managed to adjust, someone barrelled straight into her.

"Calla!" She gave a shout of surprise, wrapping her arms around Padma. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks," she laughed, as Daphne grabbed her around the shoulders to pull her in for a hug, too. "Oh!"

"Happy birthday," Daphne said.

"How've you gotten taller?" Padma demanded. Calla giggled.

"That's what I said!" Daphne replied, dragging Calla over to a long picnic table that'd been set up outside. Hermione, Ron and Harry went over to the other end, and Ginny sat with Astoria Greengrass under a nearby tree. "It's not fair, is it, Padma?"

"It's annoying," Calla said. "Look at my robes, they're going to get too short soon."

"At least you're not too short," Daphne muttered. "I don't think I've grown since I was ten."

"Stop being dramatic," Padma sighed fondly. "You have so."

"Suppose I couldn't be tall and have a pretty face," Daphne sighed, batting her eyelashes at Padma, who stared at her, looking unsure of how to respond.

"I-Daphne-"

"Ah, there's our partner in crime!"

Calla turned around sharply, to see Fred and George bounding over to her, beaming. "Managed any mischief this Summer?"

"Eh, I've annoyed a few neighbours," Calla said, shrugging.

"And caused the Ministry grief," George said, sitting on her right side next to Daphne.

"To be fair, Remus did the talking at the trial, if that's what you mean."

"Ah, but didn't you shout at Fudge about it?"

"I would've loved to have seen that."

"I would've loved to have seen Percy see that."

"Percy's working at the Ministry now," Fred explained. Calla opened her mouth and Fred held up a finger to quiet her. "Department of International Co-Operation. Don't ask him about it, you'll be bored stiff by the time the cake comes out."

"Dad's just trying to drag him away from his desk," George said. "He's working very hard on a bill about cauldron bottoms."

"It's a disgrace," Fred whispered, and Calla laughed.

"What, working hard?" she teased.

"Calla, you wound us!"

"How could you suggest we don't work hard?"

"You said it," Calla said. "You barely need to anyway; I know you're smart."

"Flattery won't get you out of it," George said, though he was laughing. "But really," he said, lowering his voice, "we've only got two years left at Hogwarts. And there's a significant lack of pranking going on in the younger years. We're still going to hold you to your talk about dyeing Snape's robes pink."

"If you're trying to convince Calla to follow in your footsteps," Daphne laughed.

"And why wouldn't I be convinced?" Daphne and Padma both just looked at her. She huffed. "Okay, point."

"You have the map," Fred said. "And, if I've got my facts straight, your Dad was Prongs. Bloody Prongs!"

"And Sirius Black's Padfoot!"

"I mean, that startling twist aside; come on, Calla. It's in your blood. It's your destiny."

"Not sure I believe in destiny, to be honest. Ask Harry."

"Harry!" George shouted. "Fancy wrecking carnage on the school in a couple of years time?"

Hermione spluttered. "Um, not really sure I'd know how."

"See?" Fred said, turning back to Calla. "He's not really sure he'd know how."

"He'd find a way," Calla said. "Trust me."

"Oi, there's Lupin," George said suddenly. "Come on, he'll know how to convince her."

He darted up and Calla shook her head, turning to Padma. "Boys," Padma said, rolling her eyes.

"Eh, I think wrecking carnage on the school would be a nice hobby," Daphne said, crossing her legs. "Izzy and I could definitely do it."

"Well then go ask Izzy," Padma retorted.

"Nah. It would be a lot more entertaining to watch you two try it."

Padma poked out her tongue childishly and Daphne did the same before grinning. "Maybe it's a secret talent," Calla said.

"I have to admit," Daphne said, "the idea of, I don't know, setting a frog on Lisa would be quite funny."

"Maybe not in the dorm though," Calla said with a shudder. "I wouldn't like that either. Imagine if it got on your pillow." She wiggled her fingers at Daphne who made a disgusted sort of squealing sound.

"Don't give each other ideas," Padma sighed, slumping onto the table. Calla snorted.

"Sorry, Padma. I promise we won't put a frog on your pillow."

"You'd better not," Padma said with a shudder.

"Yeah, you're too helpful with Transfiguration homework for me to jeopardise that."

"Well, if that's the only reason I suppose I won't be helping you anymore anyway."

"You're so mean," Daphne muttered jokingly.

"Who's using me for my brains again?"

"I'm using both of you for your brains, actually."

"As if you didn't get some of the highest marks in the year," Calla retorted, and Daphne flushed.

"I have so much to thank you two for."

"She does," Padma agreed, elbowing Calla. "We're the ones stopping her from diving off and arguing with Lisa when she should be doing her homework."

"That's very true," Calla agreed, just as the house door swung open and Mr Weasley came out, followed by a disgruntled looking Percy.

"Ah, Harry!" Mr Weasley said happily, going over to greet him. "Happy birthday, happy birthday!"

Percy nodded sharply to Harry and then to Calla. "Happy birthday," he said stiffly.

"Thanks," Calla said, trying not to smile. "It's nice to see you. And Mr Weasley, thank you so much for having us today, it's so generous of you."

"Of course, Calla, of course," he said. "Molly loves seeing Ron's friends around."

"Hey, Mr Weasley!" Daphne chirped, getting up on cue. She was beaming. "Any progress with that witch from Portree?"

"Unfortunately not very much, but the Muggles have been Obliviated. She refuses to hand over the bus."

"He says that as if he doesn't have a flying car," Ron said, and Calla laughed at the memory of that car; the same that her brother and Ron had once flown to Hogwarts and which had saved them all from Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest.

Daphne laughed. "Do you have any Muggle things? I know they're probably in the office, but Professor Burbage told us about these GameBoy things and apparently they're quite rare but it sounded so fascinating."

"Oh, don't get him started," Percy said, before Mr Weasley could speak. "Once Father starts talking about Muggle Artefacts, he won't stop, will you?"

"At least he's not obsessed with cauldron bottom density," Ron muttered, though Percy clearly heard. The tops of his ears went pink.

"Yes, well." Mr. Weasley smiled brightly. "Molly?"

A moment later, Calla glanced up, to see Molly, Remus and Sirius coming out of the Burrow, holding a very large cake that shone with gold and bronze glitter. "Now, I didn't know quite what to put on it as decoration, but Remus said you both love chocolate cake."

"You - you made us a cake?" Harry spluttered.

"Well, Remus helped, dear."

Calla stared. No one had ever made them a birthday cake before; they'd rarely even gotten a bite out of any of Dudley's. "It's wonderful," Calla said, still staring. She liked the colour scheme; Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but more subtle and not horrifyingly blue and red all over. She rushed over to Mrs Weasley to hug her tightly, tears of gratitude pressing at her eyes. "Mrs Weasley, thank you. You - you really didn't have to."

"Oh, that's quite alright, dear," Mrs Weasley said fondly, and Calla squeezed her tightly before she pulled away, cheeks flushing.

"And thank you too, Remus," she said, and her godfather beamed down at her. "And Sirius."

"Nah, the cake was Molly and Remus," he said, as Harry came over. "I was always rubbish at baking and cooking."

"He was spoiled," Remus said.

"Your grandmother was the one to teach me how to bake. She had me and James baking cookies for her every week during the holidays."

"Really?" Harry asked, eyes widening. "I didn't think you could bake."

Remus bit his lip, looking like he was trying not to laugh. Sirius looked very put-out. "I was quite good at it, actually."

Calla left them to her conversation, called back over by Daphne and Padma who were discussing the Ancient Runes homework which Professor Babbling had set them over the holidays. "Do we have to talk about this now?" Calla asked, groaning.

"Daphne hasn't started it."

"Daphne knows she has time," Daphne retorted, flipping her hair. "I'll be fine."

Padma rolled her eyes. "At least she isn't worried. Anyway," she said, lowering her voice, "Quidditch World Cup. Are you going, Calla?"

"I think so," she said, looking over at Harry. "Everything's still up in the air, but if we are we're going with the Weasleys."

"Good," said Daphne firmly. "Father's getting us our tickets, and I wanted to make sure you were able to come before it was final."

"Parvati doesn't want to go," Padma told Calla. "So I might be camping with the Greengrasses."

"I can't see Daphne camping," Calla admitted, and Daphne had to audacity to look surprised.

"Excuse me, I would be fantastic at camping!"

Calla giggled. "I can't imagine you sleeping on the ground."

"Well I wouldn't sleep on the ground," Daphne scoffed. "It's camping, Calla. In a tent. On a bed. We're not animals."

Calla laughed at that, not quite sure what Daphne understood camping to mean. She'd never been camping before - Aunt Petunia hated anything to do with the outdoors and they wouldn't have been allowed to join her anyway - but she was fairly certain it didn't involve any comfy beds.

"Technically, all humans are animals," Padma said breezily, and Daphne laughed.

"We're animals with taste, then." Calla and Padma both burst out laughing at that, and Daphne looked between them, sighing. "Stop laughing at me," she muttered, but she was grinning too.

"You're just funny," Padma said easily. "Really."

"Yeah, you should do stand-up. It'd be great." She frowned. "Do wizards have stand-up?"

"I don't know what that is," Padma said, "so I think I'm going to go with no."

"Shame," Calla said, tipping her head back. "I think Dumbledore'd be great at it too."

"I genuinely don't know what that means," Daphne said.

"Of course you don't," Calla said, laughing. "You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

They spent most of the rest of the day like that, just chatting happily. At one point, Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny went to play Quidditch in the garden, and after some pleading they managed to get Padma to play with them too to even the teams. "You sure you don't want to?" Daphne asked Calla as they lounged on the grass, legs out in front of them. "You might not even be bad."

"You're so encouraging," Calla said drily, tipping her head back to stare at the sky; the gentle sun warmed her cheeks and she smiled. "But no. I'll stay on the ground for now."

"Me too," said Astoria, who was watching Ginny intently in the sky. "I'm not an awful fan of flying; too much risk involved. And of course I'd never get on the Slytherin team anyway."

"Only because Flint's an arsehole," Daphne said.

"Daphne!" Astoria said, sounding surprised. "That was rude!"

"It's fine, Tori," Daphne said, though Hermione also looked rather affronted. "No one cares."

"You'd tell me off," Astoria muttered, turning away with a huff so she could concentrate on watching Ginny, who was tearing through the sky.

Calla smiled in the quiet, watching the unfolding match. Ron knocked one of Ginny's attempts away from the goal and she yelled angrily, swooping down after their Quaffle. "Come on, Ginny!" Hermione cheered, earning a bit of a glare from Ron.

Just then, Calla shivered a little. The sun was still up high in the sky, but there seemed to have been a breeze. No one else seemed bothered by it, though. She looked around, frowning, and brushed her thumb absently over the scar on her forehead. Pain prickled through it and she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Calla?" Daphne said sharply. "Are you okay?"

"Yup," she said tightly. Lights spots danced in the darkness behind her eyes. "Just give me a minute."

Something pressed at her mind; she shook her head and it entered, an image of an old, dilapidated house, half-falling down and covered in ivy. It sat atop a tall hill over a tiny old village, and though it was bright daylight, someone had just turned a light on. She could hear a fire crackling and winced, the pain in her scar burning now. She heard Daphne's voice distorted, and though part of her wanted to return like everything was normal, there was also some other part of her desperate to see what was inside the house.

Her vision self reached out a hand over a brass doorknob, and the door sprang open at her touch. Inside the house was rotting, the wooden floorboards clearly not having been cared for properly. There was a hissing sound from somewhere - she thought maybe a kettle, but there was only one in sight and it was turned on its side. No, this hissing was different; if she listened closely, there was two hissing voices, both different. Then a scuttle of feet - claws - and she lurched forward. A snake came round the corner, jaw stretched wide, and she bit back a shriek as it lunged towards her.

She startled as the vision faded, and she could feel the warmth of the sun outside the Burrow again. Tentatively, she opened her eyes. "What just happened?" Daphne asked her.

"I - I just had a vision again," she said quietly.

"You did?" Hermione asked. She still sounded rather skeptical.

"What do you mean, vision?" Astoria demanded.

"Nothing, Astoria," Daphne said. "Go watch Ginny over there."

"I'm watching her here," Astoria huffed back.

"What did you... See?"

"It... There was this house, and there was a snake. I don't really know what - no, how to describe it, you know?"

"A house and a snake," Hermione said dubiously.

"Yes," Calla replied curtly. "A house and a snake."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know!" Calla said. "I never know until it actually happens." She glanced up to where Harry was flying circles around an increasingly annoyed Padma, and then over to where the Weasleys sat with Remus and Sirius. She didn't actually know what it was, but she couldn't help but think it had something to do with Voldemort and Pettigrew. It had to, after what had happened. She hadn't heard much of his movements, but her scar had been hurting more, and Harry's had twinged and... Well, it had to mean something.

Calla didn't want to say anything more about it, so she didn't. After saying thank yous again to Mr and Mrs Weasley, they headed off and apparated to a ten or so minute walk away. Harry chatted away to Sirius and Remus as they went, but Calla was quiet all the way there. She didn't respond when Uncle Vernon commented angrily on her clothing - not that he could have done anything with Remus and Sirius standing right there - and when they left she went up to her room, tired, and read in silence before she went to sleep. She could tell Harry wanted to ask what was wrong, but she didn't really want to tell him. The prospect of what it meant scared her, despite already knowing what was going to happen - what, it seemed, was happening.

So she stayed quiet. But her scar hurt many days after that, worse every time. Sometimes her whole head throbbed and she couldn't focus, and she was desperate for a vision of anything so it might break the dam and give her relief for even a short while after. But those visions just built up, dormant and waiting to be seen, and her scar burned hot when she tried to do anything to break them out.

"What are you doing?" Mairi had asked her, half-laughing, when she swirled the dregs of her tea around in the cup and examined them. She could see a snake, and a cauldron and gravestone... And a scythe. Neither of those were exactly positive.

"Tea leaves," she said honestly. Some Muggles did try to read tea leaves, after all.

"You believe in that?" Mairi asked. "Really?"

"You don't?"

"I dunno," Mairi said. "I've never tried it." She'd glanced up at her. "Can you show me how?"

It felt oddly sneaky to demonstrate to Mairi how to read tea leaves. But Calla reminded herself that many Muggles did it anyway, regardless of success. "That looks like a bowl," Mairi said. "What does that mean?"

Calla just shrugged and grinned over at her. "You tell me."

Her scar prickled then and she winced, holding her forehead. Mairi looked over at her, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said hastily. "Just... A headache."

"You're holding that weird scar you've got," Mairi pointed out, and Calla took her hand away nervously. "You do that a lot sometimes."

"What, have you been keeping an eye on it?" Calla asked, more snappishly than she'd intended. Mairi stared at her.

"No. I just noticed. I wasn't going to say anything."

"Right." Calla pursed her lips. She knew she was only being irrational because her head was hurting, and she was frustrated by it and everything that built up in her mind. "Well, that's fine."

"Yeah." Mairi kept looking at her strangely, like she was contemplating something. "You do look a bit pale though, you know. Are you sure you're actually okay?"

"Of course I am," Calla lied. Mairi didn't look like she believed her, but she clearly didn't know how to get anything else out of her. Which was a good thing; Calla couldn't tell her the truth even if she wanted to. "It's just a headache."

"You've had a lot of headaches."

"Yeah, they're really annoying. Probably just because it's so warm all the time."

"Yeah," Mairi said. "Probably. You should get it checked out though at some point if it keeps hurting."

"I will," Calla said, though she knew what was wrong and knew no doctor could help.

That same night she'd had a dream. It hadn't started out awful; there was a goblet with pink and blue fire, sparks dancing across a room, and she could see paper spitting from it, drifting on the wind. Her hands reached out to grab it but the paper slipped through her fingers soundlessly, falling softly to the ground. Then her legs had given way and she was kneeling on sodden grass, clutching something cold. She could feel herself crying, could feel her chest shaking. The world span and the vision changed, to that same large house, where a snake curled around a chair and someone rocked before the fireplace.

Not someone. Some thing.

It was bloodied and skeletal, and there was a darkness to the eye sockets of its skull that chilled her. It felt familiar... She'd seen this thing before, but it wasn't just that.

This time she found herself reaching out to it. Her hand shook as it brushed the thing's bone cheek and came away bloody. Skeletal fingers grabbed her wrist and she shrieked, stumbling back, but she couldn't throw it off. The thing wailed and thrust her back and she stumbled, reaching for her wand which spun away from her over the floorboards and fell through a hole in the floor, and then she fell back into the fireplace and woke up with a start in the darkness of her bedroom.

Author's Note: Thoughts on Dumbledore's decision? We're just about to get into the canon of the Goblet of Fire book, and I am very excited for what comes ahead! I've written part of the climax already, and will hopefully get that done and the next few chapters edited and ready to be put up soon. :)