Sleep brought her a vision of a dark shadow in a park, the leaves ruffled by breeze. Orange streetlamps barely did anything to warm the place, instead casting an eerie glow over once-green grass. The shadow turned with red eyes and a cold smile curled his lips as his gaze lit. He was caught halfway between Tom Riddle and Voldemort, face starting to wrinkle and pale, but still with a head of hair and a nose. He reached out in front of him, gaze searching. Triumph flashed across his eyes.

"Close," he whispered. The snake curled around his ankles and then he disappeared, giving way to blinding lights and spellfire. It seared the inside of Calla's mind and she lurched upwards, staring at the brightly burning stars.

Xx

The next morning, Calla woke with the Marauder's Map on the bedside table next to her. She didn't know who had put it there or where it had come from - presumably, it had been retrieved from Barty Crouch Jr. - but the sight of it brought an unexpected flood of relief to her chest. Beside it was a bottle of the salve Madam Pomfrey had been getting her to use, along with a note: Apply generously no more than once a day and avoid contact with direct sunlight. Any issues or unusual occurrences with scar, write to me immediately. She smiled, placing the bottle on top of her still-open trunk, and starting to finish her packing.

The rest of the day was a similar chaos to always, everyone running about wildly. Calla didn't dare enter the boys' dormitory - they were yelling about whose socks were whose and she didn't want to get involved - so she passed Terry's copy of The Hobbit through a narrow gap between door and frame, and hurried back to report back on the boys' state to the girls. Padma and Daphne were both perfectly packed, as was Calla, while Mandy and Isobel were still trying to sort their robes from one another, Sue was entirely confused by the bag of eel's eyes that had mysteriously found its way into the bottom of her trunk, and Lisa presided over the madness with a disapproving glare. It felt almost normal, she thought, as she lay on her bed with Matilda sprawled and purring over her stomach. She stared up at the dark ceiling, the twinkling silver stars drawn to form the constellations of years gone by. How many others had stared at this ceiling, how many generations of Ravenclaw girls had slept through this dormitory?

She wondered about the students from the first war; what it was like for them, lying here in their tower while the world fell apart outside the castle walls. "Come on, you," Padma said, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Breakfast, then train."

"I'm not ready yet!" Isobel cried, and thrust a yellow scarf into the air. "Whose is this?"

"Mine," Sue said, and snatched it from the air with pink cheeks. "Well. It's Justin's."

"Justin's?" Daphne echoed in a shriek.

"Sue, you've kept that quiet!"

"Oh, shush, the lot of you," she mumbled, stuffing it in her trunk, before slamming the lid down. Her cheeks burned red. "Let's just go now."

Calla giggled, sitting up. Matilda hissed loudly at her, and went to sit on her cat bed, except it was now in Calla's trunk. She appeared very upset about this, and Calla giggled as she bent to pick her up in her arms.

"You have to stay here," she told her, and nodded to where Moony perched in his own cage. "With Moony, until I get you after breakfast."

Matilda mewed in protest, and decided to curl up on Calla's pillow instead. She rolled her eyes fondly, as Isobel and Mandy finally declared themselves ready to go to breakfast.

"I still can't believe they're making you go back to the Dursleys," said Padma, who had taken very much against the Dursleys. "Doesn't Dumbledore realise what they're like?"

"Apparently it's to protect us."

Padma shook her head. "You're going to have to write to us, if anything happens. I mean anything. Promise?"

"I always write to you," Calla muttered in response, but she smiled a little at Padma, and Daphne put a warm arm around her shoulders. "I promise."

Fleur hurried over to her again at breakfast to say a goodbye. "But I will see you again!" she promised. "I am taking a job here, it is decided. To improve my English!"

"That's wonderful," Calla said, and Fleur smiled as she hugged her quickly. "Did you ever speak to Bill Weasley?"

Fleur's cheeks went pink. "I intend to," she said, and Calla found herself smiling faintly in response.

"Have fun with that," she said quietly, and Fleur giggled.

"You have been a good friend," Fleur told her with a smile. "I will miss you."

Calla found herself flushing a little, and slightly emotional. "You too," she said, as Fleur kissed her gently on the cheek, smiled her prettiest smile, and hurried away again. The place where her lips had been seemed to burn, and Calla tried to hide the blush that rose to her cheeks, ducking her head with a faint smile.

The sun was bright as they headed onto the Hogwarts Express, Calla holding Matilda tightly so she wouldn't get caught in the crush of people, and holding Moony's cage in the other hand. She looked around for Harry and the others and Padma waved over, so that they pushed together through the crowd. "Let's find somewhere together," she said, coming to stand beside Hermione. Calla and Harry exchanged short smiles, but she noticed her brother looked at least happier than he had last night as they made their way down the train, slipping into a compartment.

Daphne lingered nervously in the doorway. "I have to go find Theo," she said, looking awkwardly at Calla, whose stomach took a tumble as she contemplated what she might say. Padma looked pointedly away, pursing her lips. "But I'll be back later, yeah?"

Calla nodded, though she caught Harry's eye and knew he was questioning her. She shook her head a tiny bit as Daphne left and she let Matilda down to play with Crookshanks. They whiled the time away chatting about exam results - Hermione and Padma, mainly, Ron didn't seem to care - and about what they thought Dumbledore might be doing about Voldemort. "He'll have a plan," Padma said, rather assuredly, though Calla wasn't sure she trusted that assessment. "He is Dumbledore, after all."

She wasn't really sure that was enough.

After half an hour or so they popped their heads into the compartment nearby where Terry, Isobel, Anthony, Mandy, Lisa and Sue were sitting, and Isobel demanded Calla settle the question of whether Colin Baker or Tom Baker was the better Doctor, to which Calla replied it was obviously the latter and Isobel pumped the air in triumph.

Hermione was drawing a copy of the Daily Prophet out of her schoolbag as they re-entered their compartment, and Calla eyed it warily. She hadn't read today's edition yet. "There's nothing about you in there," she said, looking between Harry and Calla. "You can check for yourself. There's nothing at all, and I've been checking all week."

"Good," Calla said with a nod, though she wasn't sure it was; surely someone had to report Voldemort's return at some point? There had been only a small piece after the Third Task, from the copy Daphne had shown her, and it hadn't so much as mentioned Cedric or the Aurors or the Death Eaters or anything of actual importance. Daphne had said it was because there was an ongoing investigation, but Calla was still angry about it.

"If you ask me," Hermione was saying, "Fudge has told them to keep quiet."

"He'll never keep Rita Skeeter quiet," Harry muttered.

"She hasn't written in a while, actually," Padma mused. "She's usually a regular, at least once a week."

"Oh, she hasn't written anything since the Third Task," Hermione said in a rather constrained voice. "As a matter of fact, Rita isn't going to be writing anything for quite some time. Not if she doesn't want me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about?" Ron said, as Calla and Padma opened their chocolate frogs and compared cards - Merlin and Arthur.

"I found out how she was listening into conversations when she wasn't supposed to be allowed into the grounds," Hermione said, voice coming out in a rush. Calla stared at her.

"How was she doing it?" Harry asked quickly.

"How did you find out?"

"Well it was you, really, who gave me the idea, Harry."

"Did I?" Harry looked rather surprised by this information. "How?"

Hermione smiled rather proudly. "Bugging."

Calla and Padma exchanged a concerned look. Padma mouthed the words, "What's bugging?"

"But... you said they didn't work."

"Not electronic bugs," Hermione sighed. "No, you see... Skeeter..." She had a bit of a triumphant edge to her voice. "Is an Animagus. She can turn-" she pulled a glass jar from her bag "-into a beetle."

Calla stared at the jar, where a rather large beetle was trying to climb the edge, scrabbling at the glass. "You put her in a jar," she said numbly. "You put Rita Skeeter in a jar."

"Merlin," Padma muttered, eyes wide. "Hermione, you terrify me."

Hermione looked rather proud of that assessment.

"That's never..." Ron was saying, looking gobsmacked. "But - you wouldn't. You didn't."

"Oh, but I did. I caught her on the window sill in the Hospital Wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are the same as those glasses she wears."

"There was a beetle on the statue that night we heard Hagrid talking to Madam Maxime!"

A thought had entered Calla's head.

"Exactly. And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair that day by the lake after the Second Task."

Calla's stomach fell, as she got quickly to her feet and said in a garbled rush, "There was a beetle on the bench behind me and Zach at the Yule Ball."

Padma stared up at her, hands flying to her mouth in understanding and shock. Her heart raced, and she swore under her breath, which seemed to greatly offend Hermione. She should have listened to him when he'd said it wasn't him. She'd been stupid. And she - she'd been wrong. "Give me a minute," she said, and all but ran from the compartment, launching herself into the one where Isobel and the others sat.

"Anyone know where Zach Smith is?" she asked breathlessly.

"Down that way," Anthony said, pointing the other direction. "Next carriage. Why-"

She didn't pause to let him finish. She turned and hurried along the other way, only to bump into someone, staring up at Daphne's flushed face. "Calla," she said, staring in surprise. "Where are you-"

She grabbed her hand sharply. "Hermione found out Rita Skeeter's an illegal Animagus and she's a beetle and Hermione put her in a jar and Skeeter overheard me and Zach talking when she was transformed and it - it wasn't him who told her!"

Daphne blinked. Her eyes were a little puffy. "Well, that makes total sense."

"Come on!"

They hurried down the train together, glancing between the compartment windows, finally spotting a cluster of Hufflepuffs in the middle of which Zach was sitting. She paused and hurried backwards out of sight, flattening her hair. Her stomach swooped. "I don't know what to say."

"Well you just ran all the way here."

"Running is a lot easier than speaking to someone!" She leaned back against the wall as the train shuddered underneath her. "Oh my God. Oh my God. We haven't spoken in months, and he didn't even do anything wrong I just thought he did! Oh my God! How am I meant to talk to him?"

"Not like that," Daphne said. "You sound out of breath."

"I am out of breath!" She shut her eyes. She shouldn't be freaking about this, of all things. "Okay. I just have to knock on the door, ask for a word, explain and then..."

"Sprint in the other direction?"

"Yup." She caught Daphne's eye and let out a breathless, nervous laugh. "Jesus."

"Go on," Daphne said. "They can tell you're out here, they're all looking at me."

"Oh my God." She squeezed her eyes shut, heat rising to her cheeks, and Daphne laughed a little. "It isn't funny!"

"It's nice to see you stressing over this instead of anything else," Daphne admitted, and grabbed Calla's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Go. Talk to him."

"Okay." She shook her hands out. "Okay. Ugh. Jesus."

She turned herself around and moved to stand in front of the compartment door, knocking sharply. Hannah Abbott opened it, blinking. "Hey, Calla."

"Hi." She swallowed. They were all looking at her and now she remembered how they all knew Cedric, how they no doubt all had a million questions for her beyond what she was really there for. "Um, Zach? Can I - can I talk to you?"

Zach looked very surprised, which Calla thought was pretty fair. "Yeah," he said, frowning, "I suppose so." But he didn't make an effort to move.

"Alone? Outside? Please?"

"Right." Zach exchanged a look with the others in the compartment - Hannah, Susan, Ernie and Justin - before he got to his feet and followed Calla to stand outside. Daphne loitered some way down the corridor, making a show of great interest in her nailbeds. "What's this about?" he asked. "You haven't spoken to me since January."

"I know," she said. "And I - I'm really sorry. I was wrong to blame you, I thought you were the one who spoke to Rita Skeeter about me and now... I know you weren't. So I'm sorry." She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking at Zach, wishing he would say something.

"I could have told you that," he said flatly, "if you'd listened."

"I didn't... I didn't understand how... I'm sorry, Zach. For not listening."

He huffed. "Alright. Is..." He almost looked nervous as he spoke. "Is that it, then?"

"I don't really know... What else..."

"We... We all knew Cedric." She should have known he'd ask. "We all liked Cedric. Is - is it really true? That he was... murdered? By You-Know-Who, and the Death Eaters?"

She nodded, a thick lump in her throat. Daphne was watching her over Zach's shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Zach sighed, letting out a heavy breath. "And you? Is it true that... You-Know-Who... he tried to kill you, too?"

She didn't have the words to tell the truth about what he'd wanted with her. She just nodded numbly. Zach swallowed. "I was... When you didn't come back and you weren't in the maze, and when people started saying where you'd been taken, I thought... That you were dead. And it was really, really scary. And then Cedric was dead and..." He let out a long, low breath. Calla held his gaze. Neither of them seemed to know what to say to each other. "I just don't know if I can quite believe it."

She looked at him, really looked at him, and sighed, feeling herself shake a little. "Lucky you."

Daphne followed her down the train and Zach didn't. She didn't looked back at him, only heard the compartment door shut again, followed by muffled conversation. Daphne clasped her hand and held on tonight, and Calla squeezed her hand in return. They got back to the compartment just in time to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle being rolled across the aisle by Harry, Ron and George. "What happened to them?" Daphne asked, eyes wide.

"They had it coming," George said.

"Does he have tentacles?" Calla stared between the boys. "What did they do?"

"Didn't do anything," Harry said, "it was what they said. About - about Cedric."

"They didn't," Daphne said, looking pale. For a moment she seemed to hover, uncertain of herself, and then she looked down at the unconscious Malfoy and shoved him roughly into the compartment opposite. She stepped over Crabbe and Goyle elegantly and swept inside, turning to scowl down her nose at the three of them. "I did tell him to try and stop being so horrible. So did Theo. Clearly, he ignored me."

Then she tossed her hair and pulled Calla inside with her. Padma appeared to be smiling as they sat down together on the bench, Matilda leaping into Daphne's lap.

"I am sorry about him," Daphne whispered to the two of them as the boys continued to shuffle Crabbe and Goyle. "He's been ghastly. But I'm through with him now, I don't want to be friends with someone who won't even raise his glass for someone who - who was a student like us, who was murdered." Her voice seemed to ring around the compartment. Calla grabbed her hand. "You... Did you see who any of the Death Eaters were?"

"Didn't see," Calla whispered, "But I did hear..." She had to say it now. "There was a Malfoy and a Crabbe and a Goyle. But... There was a Nott, too."

"I thought so." Daphne sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "Theo's father."

"I didn't want to assume-"

"It was." She nodded solemnly and wouldn't meet her eyes. "He told me. But Theo isn't anything like his father. You know that, don't you?" Calla nodded. "Well, anyway. The whole betrothal thing is off the cards now. He just told me." Her voice caught a little. "I don't know if it is what I wanted. But he's my friend. They've all always been my friends and now I don't know what I'm... Meant to do. Meant to think." She looked down. "I suppose I'm friends with the wrong sort."

"I don't-"

"It's fine," she said. "It might have happened anyway."

"But it isn't just about that, is it? You have been friends for years..."

"Yeah, but it's - it's fine."

"It's clearly not," Padma said, bemused.

"I don't want to be ... associated with people like his father."

"You just said he wasn't anything like his father." Calla became suddenly aware of the others intently watching their whispered conversation.

"That doesn't mean... Oh, this is all so complicated." She pulled a book from her bag, which had a large picture of a red telephone box in the front. "I'm going to read."

"Daphne..."

"I'm going to read," she repeated, voice harder this time, and Calla sighed, glancing at Padma. She knew Daphne was upset, but, well... She also knew she would have hated for Daphne to have been fine with it, with Theodore's father being a Death Eater.

The farther they got from Hogwarts, the more comfortable Calla felt, relaxing in the compartment as the stress of the castle and its magic began to dissipate. The others played a rousing few rounds of exploding snap while Calla took out the wandlore book Dumbledore had recommended to her, skimming the first few chapters. It was interesting, and most of what was written there she had never heard talked about in classes before. Wandlore seemed to be one of those aspects of the Wizarding World that, like Alchemy or magical languages, was seldom touched upon in the Hogwarts curriculum. She wondered if they would ever get to learn about every part of the magical world. Part of her wanted to; the other part was scared about what those other, darker parts were.

She glanced up from her book at the word "blackmailing" and stared at Harry, wondering if she'd heard him right; Daphne did the same.

"Oh," George Weasley said. "That."

"You were blackmailing someone?" Daphne demanded, a switch suddenly turned as her interest was piqued. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter anyway," Fred said, shaking his head. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've given up."

Calla decided to give it a rest, but Harry, Ron and Hermione all kept asking until finally Fred said, "It was Ludo Bagman."

"Bagman?" Harry said sharply. "Are you saying he was involved in-"

"Nah," George said gloomily. "Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?" Ron asked.

"You remember that bet we made with him? At the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win but Krum would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd got off the Irish mascots!"

"So?"

"So," said Fred, rather impatiently, "it vanished, didn't it? By the morning, it had gone!"

"But it must've been an accident, mustn't it?"

"Ludo Bagman?" Daphne raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"We thought it was an accident at first," George said with a bitter laugh. "We thought if we just wrote to him and said he'd make a mistake, that he'd cough up. But nothing doing, he ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts but he kept on making some mistake to get away from us."

"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," Fred said. "Said we were too young to gamble and he wasn't giving us our money back."

"Well, if you were too young to gamble then he shouldn't have made a bet with you!" Padma cried indignantly.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? We asked for our money back, but he refused."

"No!"

"But that was all your savings!"

"Tell me about it," said George. "Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee's dad had quite a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he was in trouble with the goblins. Borrowed a whole load of gold and a gang of them cornered him in the woods after the cup. Took all the money he had off him and it still wasn't enough to pay his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. And you know how he wanted to repay them?"

"How?"

"Put a massive bet on you, Harry," he said. "To win the Tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"So that's why he was trying to help me all the time!" Harry said, and he and Calla shared a look of dawning understanding. "But, well, I did win, didn't I? So he can pay the goblins back and you can get your gold!"

"Nope," said George, shaking his head. "Goblins play as dirty as him. They said he bet on you to win outright, and you didn't, did you? You tied. So Bagman made a run for it after the Third Task."

He sighed deeply and started dealing the cards again and that was the end of that. Calla buried her nose in her book again, taking some untidy notes while leaning with a pencil on the seat. It seemed all too soon they had come to a stop at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and everyone set about making their way off the train, dragging their trunks. Harry caught Calla's arm as the others filed out. "I was thinking," he whispered, "you don't want the prize money, do you?"

She shook her head. "It wouldn't be right. Why?"

"I was thinking we give it to Fred and George? For that joke shop they're always wanting to start up. Since they can't get the money from Bagman, and it was all their savings..."

Calla grinned, catching on. "It's in your bag, right?" Harry nodded, and Calla called, "Fred! George!"

The two of them twisted around, frowning. "Yeah?"

"Take it." Harry thrust the bag of galleons into Fred's hands. He stared at it.

"What?"

"Take it," Calla said firmly. "We don't want it."

"You're mental." George tried to shove it back into their hands, but Calla and Harry both crossed their arms together.

"No, we're not. You take it, and get investing for that joke shop."

"He is mental," said Fred in an awed sort of voice."

"Listen," Harry said, "if you don't take it I'm going to throw it down the drain." Calla thought that was a little bit far, but she kept her resolve. "We don't want it and we don't need it. And... We could all do with a few laughs. I have a feeling we're going to need them more than ever before long."

"Harry," George said weakly, weighing the bag, "Calla... There has to be about a thousand galleons in here."

"Yeah," Harry said with a grin. "Think of how many canary creams that is."

"Consider it our contribution to mischief managing," Calla told them, and managed a faint smile. "I think Prongs would approve." Fred let out a rather weak, still shocked, chuckle.

"Just don't tell your mum where you got the money," Harry said. "Although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry now, come to think of it."

"Harry," Fred started, but Harry took out his wand.

"Look. Take it, or I'll hex you."

"Harry!" He looked at her and Calla shut up. "No, actually, yeah. He'll hex you. And I'll... be very disappointed."

"Just do us a favour, yeah? Buy Ron some new dress robes, and just say they're from you."

They both hurried out of the compartment, over Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Daphne and Padma were both waiting for Calla by the doors. "Mum wants to talk to you," Padma said. "She's worried."

Calla smiled, following them quietly. The Patils stood nearby with Lavender Brown, who gossiped with Parvati until she caught Calla's eye and quieted, cheeks going pink.

"Calla," said Mrs Patil warmly. "We heard about everything from Padma. I'm so sorry..."

"I'm okay," she said, even though she wasn't, not really.

"Even so. I'm going to write to Dumbledore and see if there is anything we can do for you. Leaving you with those Muggles does not seem like the most sensible idea to me. If you need anything, a place to stay a night or more, anything, Calla, and Harry. We'll be more than happy to have you."

"Thank you," Calla said, rather hoarsely. She found herself blinking back tears. "I... I don't know what we're going to do. We're going back to the Dursleys now but - I don't know when we'll get to be back with Remus and Sirius."

"Whenever you know," Mrs Patil said gently. "Tell us."

She nodded numbly, surprised Mrs Patil was so willing to help her. "I will."

"See to it that you do," she said. "Now, we have to get Lavender here back to her parents. And Daphne, where is your family?"

"Yeah, I think the Weasleys are waiting on us," Harry said. Calla swallowed, and turned to give her goodbyes to Padma and Daphne, who both seemed to be trying to crush her as they wrapped their arms around each other in a huddle.

"Please be safe," Padma whispered thickly in her ear.

"I promise. I'll do my best."

Daphne chuckled weakly. "No. You will be safe. You will." She squeezed her shoulder tightly before they all let go, eyes shining. "We'll see you soon."

Calla nodded, taking her trunk and cage, and gathering Matilda awkwardly in her arms. "Yeah." She smiled as best she could. "See you. And... Thanks."

Remus was waiting for them by the barrier and immediately came over to Calla and Harry, hugging them tightly. "How are you feeling?"

Calla nodded. "A bit... A bit better."

Harry glanced at her sideways. "Yeah."

He whispered, "We don't know how long it'll take, but we're setting up an Order safehouse in London. Sirius' family's house. As soon as Dumbledore gives the all clear, we'll move the two of you in."

"When?" Calla asked, and he shook his head.

"I don't know quite yet. If it's looking like a while, we will come and visit you, I promise that." He squeezed them tight and let go. "I'm to take you back to your aunt and uncle and explain the situation." Calla didn't think this was going to go well at all. "I've also to let you know, Calla, the Ministry are dropping the accusations about the Statue of Secrecy." She blinked, confused. "That night... You technically violated it. But they aren't going to try you. It's being swept under the carpet."

"What? Why?"

"Don't complain," Remus said with a light chuckle, but he frowned, too. "It seems they don't want to give you the chance to talk about that night. The Aurors are already giving Fudge grief for the lack of acknowledgement." He smiled briskly and Calla felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. She didn't want to get in trouble, of course, but it was weird that it had been dropped. Because the Ministry - or rather, Fudge - were perhaps scared of what she was going to say. "But we'll have to see what happens. There's Molly!"

Mrs Weasley hurried over, smiling at them. "Ah, Remus, I'm glad you're with them." She, too, hugged Calla and Harry. "We'll see you over the Summer at some point, I'm sure. But you keep in touch, yes?"

"We will, Mrs Weasley," Calla promised quietly, and Mrs Weasley smiled down at her.

"I am so glad to see you better again, Calla. I can't tell you... Well." She smiled. "You stay safe now."

"See you, Harry, Calla," said Ron, clapping Harry on the back and grinning at Calla.

"Bye, Harry!" Hermione said, and kissed Harry on the cheek. Harry flushed, and Calla tried to hide her giggle as Hermione hugged her tightly. "I'll see you soon, Calla."

"Harry," George said just as they were about to leave, "Calla... Thanks."

Calla smiled back at him weakly, then turned to Remus as he walked them out of the station. Sirius was waiting outside, leaning against a very large motorbike. "Load up the trunks, then," he told them. "We'll get you lot to Little Whinging."

"Aunt Petunia'll love that," Calla said, imagining her face if Sirius brought his motorbike anywhere near Privet Drive. She imagined the neighbours' faces and felt a surreal giggle rise in her throat.

"I hope so," he said, helping Harry with his trunk and Hedwig's cage, then Calla with hers. "How are you?" he asked her quietly.

"Fine," she muttered. She wondered if she had ever been less fine. "I'm fine."

"You can be honest with me, Calla."

"I am. I'm fine." Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she might start to believe it.

She stepped hastily away. Remus and Sirius spoke in low voices, before Sirius jumped on his motorbike, grinning at them. "Well, come on," he said. "Surrey isn't too far, is it?"

"What about the traffic?" Calla looked at the motorbike dubiously.

"Ah, we don't have to worry about that. You've heard of a flying car - how about a flying motorbike."

"Flying?" Calla squeaked.

"Muggles won't see a thing. Come on then."

Harry leapt on with great enthusiasm, though Calla was much more cautious. She went in the little sidecar, knees jammed up against her chest. Remus looked like he was trying not to laugh as he took a broom from the back of the bike. "I told you we wouldn't all fit, Sirius."

Sirius rolled his eyes, shooting a smirk over his shoulder. "Do try and keep up, Moony."

He gave no warning before he rammed the accelerator and took them speeding off into the air at a hundred miles an hour. Calla's sudden shriek was lost to the air as she clutched Matilda tightly to her chest, cradling the little cat. "You're going a bit fast, Sirius!" she yelled.

"Sorry, Calla. Try not to puke."

She laughed faintly, possibly deliriously, squeezing her eyes tight shut. This was horrid. At least Remus wouldn't have flown so fast - she should have insisted on flying by broom with him. Flying motorbikes were horrible. "I had a dream about this once," Harry yelled over the wind.

Calla shook her head. "I think I am going to be sick. How can you stand this?"

Sirius just laughed and went faster. Harry whooped and Calla squeezed her eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over.

But when they touched down on Privet Drive, with the sun starting to set over rows of little houses, oddly all she wanted was to be back in the air, separated from everything else in the world. Remus dropped down just behind them, and it was he who went to the door, while Harry, Calla and Sirius heaved their trunks.

Aunt Petunia poked her head around the door, chin sharp and eyes wide. "Oh, a fine time you've chosen!" she snapped. "I hope you didn't expect to stay for tea!"

"Of course not, Petunia," Remus said tensely, "but may we come in?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Calla and Harry have been through an awful ordeal," Remus said, and Calla's chest tightened. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to speak with you. To explain."

Aunt Petunia pursed her lips, and behind her eyes an inner conflict seemed to be raging, particularly when she caught sight of Sirius; where she'd learned to tolerate Remus out of necessity over he last thirteen years, Sirius had done nothing to endear himself. Her frown went deep. "Very well. You have five minutes, and don't think I'll offer you any refreshments, this is my family you are intruding on!"

"Naturally, Petunia," Remus said, dipping his head as she let them inside.

She paused when Calla came closer enough for her to get a good look at, and then let out a feeble shriek. "What on earth have you done to yourself?" she asked, staring at Calla's forehead, and she instinctively ducked her head down, face burning.

"I will explain everything," Remus said, voice tinged with worry. Petunia was unmoving. "Why don't Calla and Harry take their trunks back upstairs and unpack while the adults talk?"

Calla nodded. She had no desire to explain anything to her aunt, or have to handle all of her pointedly awkward and deliberately cutting questions. Harry protested, but he still followed her lead as they hauled their belongings up the staircase, into their room, and she collapsed onto her bed with a small sob she hadn't realised she'd been holding in.

"Cal," Harry said warily, and she shook her head.

"Don't talk to me," she murmured, taking off her shoes and curling in on herself. "I'm too tired."

Aunt Petunia called them down half an hour later, when Remus and Sirius were leaving. "We'll see you soon," Remus promised, hugging Calla tightly. "Just be careful. Be safe and... Look after each other."

"How much did you tell them?" Calla asked in a whisper.

"Enough. But if you have any problems, let us know immediately." He ruffled her hair and stepped away. Calla's forehead burned. Sirius hugged her next and then all too soon they were gone and she and Harry were left with the Dursleys, standing dumbly in the hall, while Dudley's TV played lowly in the background. Vernon was as mean as ever, seemingly unaffected by whatever he'd just been told, but Aunt Petunia was rather white, and Dudley kept staring at Calla as though he expected her to explode. Or set him on fire. Her skin prickled and she glared coldly at him until he let out a small squeak of fright and looked away; a satisfied thrill went through her at the reaction.

"Right then," Uncle Vernon said, clapping his hands together and avoiding everyone's gaze. He was rather purple. "You two. Get dinner on. Our Dudley needs his protein if he's to keep up as heavyweight champion."

And like that, things were as horribly normal as ever. At least, until they tried to sleep, and Calla was once again haunted by visions of dark forests, a cave being rapidly filled by swirling seawater, and haunting red eyes the colour of blood, setting her mind on fire and twinkling with sadistic pleasure before she woke, panting, and in pain.

But her brother had awoken, too, or maybe he hadn't gotten to sleep at all. His face was white in the moonlight and he was shaking, clutching his scar. "Harry?" Calla whispered across the room. "What is it?"

"He was in a cave," he said, voice trembling a little. His face was screwed up in either concentration or in pain. Calla slipped out from under her covers, sitting by her brother, and felt a searing pain in her scar. It caught her off guard, stealing her breath, and she had to look away from him to refocus her mind. "It was filled with water. Someone was screaming, I think he was poisoning them. I didn't recognise them."

She swallowed, knowing innately that she had seen that same cave, too. "He was holding a necklace of some sort. I couldn't really make out what it looked like. It was dark. But there..." He shook his head, exhaling. "He's angry. Really angry, Calla."

"What's he angry about?"

Harry looked away, and then winced, clutching his scar again. Pain was written clearly on his face, and Calla felt her own head and heart twinge in worry for her brother.

"He's just found out. He's been betrayed."