Moony returned the next afternoon, but Hedwig didn't.
What do you mean there were Dementors? Padma's letter read. Were they at your aunt and uncle's house? I'm going to speak to mum about this, are you alright, Calla? Has Dumbledore said anything - has Remus or Sirius? You seriously need to give us some more details.
I assume you've written Daphne as well? Hopefully she'll be of more help but I've honestly not heard anything more than the papers are saying or that I told you when we saw you, and if something was up with the Dementors I'm sure we'd have heard. I don't know Calla, this is freaking me out. Me and mum are going to see if there's anything we can do. If you need out of there, just say the word. Be safe.
Padma
"She's not heard anything," Calla told Harry, who had been watching her closely. And when she read Daphne's letter, she reported the same again.
"What do you mean? Neither of them know anything?"
"No," Calla said harshly. "They just say... Stay safe." Like she wasn't trying her best to stay safe. She hadn't asked for the Dementors to show up.
"At least they're saying something," Harry muttered, and Calla sighed.
"I'll write to Remus," she said. "He might be more helpful?"
"Doubt it. He's staying with Sirius, isn't he? And it's not like he's been much help the rest of the Summer."
"Well, if you don't want to try."
Harry huffed loudly, just as Aunt Petunia pushed a meagre plate of food through the catflap she'd installed in their bedroom. Harry hurried over to it. "Who was that Howler-"
She slammed the catflap in his face. "It was Dumbledore," Calla told him, frowning. "I'm sure it was."
"Well, if he can talk to her, why can't he talk to us?"
"I don't know." Calla glared at the two unbuttered pieces of bread Aunt Petunia has pushed through. "I'm sending a letter to Remus," she decided. "I don't care."
Some point after dinner - cheese and bread, a treat - she had heard a knock on the downstairs door and listened out. The voices were muffled, and though she couldn't make out what they were saying, she knew one of them was Mairi. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she wanted to go out right then and see her and talk to her and tell her everything, but the door was slammed shut almost as soon as she'd gotten the notion, and everything downstairs had gone silent again.
And Remus didn't reply the next morning. Calla sent him an ultimatum.
Remus,
If someone doesn't come to pick us up then we're going to leave. We can't stay here any longer and don't appreciate being ignored, Harry's going out of his mind with worry, the Dursleys hate us more than ever, and what's more, we know we are in danger. Please come, or at least reply, I know you're getting our letters. I don't care what Dumbledore told you to do. We just really need you right now.
Calla
It was short but not particularly sweet. The only reply it garnered was: Please just stay put. I can't say anything more. And be careful what you write.
Calla knew if she were to be rational she'd find a way to justify the lack of helpful response but she didn't really feel like being rational at all. At night, every sound terrified her; was it a Death Eater come to knock down their door, another Dementor to suck out her soul? She always hoped for Remus or Sirius or even a Weasley, but no one came. "I need out of here," she muttered to herself and Harry grunted his agreement. "I can't stand it. I - I don't even feel safe."
"Yeah." Harry tossed a fake snitch up in the air, only to frown when it slipped past his fingers.
The next day brought more silence. Calla was beginning to despair. Anyone else she might not have minded as much, but Remus would never ignore her, especially after what she'd just said had happened. It frustrated her to the point of crying, which just frustrated her more. Crying was stupid of her, she knew, and immature, and she ought to be stronger than that, but all she wanted was to break down into tears somewhere safe, with someone she trusted, to be told that she would be safe, she would be protected, that she was somewhere - not Hogwarts - where nothing and no one would be allowed to hurt her. She and Harry kept pushing at each other, both annoyed and restless due to their situation.
"Why won't he just say something?" she muttered after three days of no replies and no news from the Daily Prophet, slamming her book shut. Matilda yowled.
"It's not like I know," Harry muttered bitterly back. "Maybe he just doesn't want to talk to you."
Calla promptly chucked her book at Harry's head, and let out a loud cry of frustration, slumping back against her pillows with tears stinging her eyes. "Calla!"
"You asked for it!"
"That hurt!"
He chucked the book back and Calla yelped as the edge of the hard cover hit her funny bone. "Sod off, Harry!"
"You started it," he muttered, and she sat up angrily, shoving the book onto the floor, where it landed with a thud. She breathed heavily, biting her lip, and clenched her fist.
"I'm so done with this," was all she could say, because there wasn't anything that she could do. "I'm so done! I just - ugh!"
Harry didn't say anything in response to that, and so both eventually sank into quiet sullenness, though Calla still felt restless. She just wanted to get out, run for a bit, just do anything that wasn't sit here stewing while anything could be waiting out there to attack them, and no one seemed to care or to be doing anything to help them. She would have written to Dumbledore, even, if it weren't for the fact that Moony was still with Remus. Though it wasn't like he was going to write back.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd gotten at the end of last year, after the graveyard, when he'd told her about her connection with Voldemort. You would have let me die, she'd told him, and though she'd regretted the harshness, she couldn't help the feeling that maybe he would. That maybe he had abandoned her now. Maybe he was waiting to see what was going to happen, and that was why he hadn't been in contact at all. Part of her wanted him to never contact her again. She wanted to block it all out, pretend to be a normal girl who went to normal school, and to see Mairi, but she knew she couldn't. Danger would find her anyway. There was nowhere safe for her. She just so desperately wished that there were.
Harry started pacing again, frowning. "They wouldn't..." he started, glancing at Calla, and then looked away again, shaking his head. "Nah. They wouldn't."
The door opened quite unexpectedly. Calla stared at Uncle Vernon in the doorway, feeling a small glimmer of hope that maybe Remus had come for them after all. "We're going out," he said smugly.
"I'm sorry?"
"We - that is to say, your aunt, Dudley, and I - are going out."
"Fine."
"You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away."
"OK."
"You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our other possessions."
"Right."
"You are not to steal food from the fridge."
"OK."
"I am going to lock your door."
"You do that."
Uncle Vernon looked between them suspiciously, like Harry's apathy was a sure sign they were up to something. Calla just sighed and looked at the ceiling boredly.
Uncle Vernon stomped out the room and slammed the door, locking it behind him. A few minutes later, Calla could hear the slamming of the front and car doors, the rumble of the Dursley's car engine outside, and then the sound of it finally crawling out of the drive.
"Well," Calla said five minutes later once she was sure the Dursleys were gone and not coming back, "I'm going to see Mairi."
Harry turned around from where he was lying on his bed, blinking at her. "Are you mad?"
She shrugged, desperate to take one chance - however small it was - to see her and at least attempt to explain what the hell was going on. "I haven't seen her in days, not properly. She'll be confused, I ought to explain."
Harry hesitated a moment before he sighed. "Fine. Just make sure you're back before they are."
"Don't worry," she told him with fake confidence, stretching the window open enough that she could stand on the desk and swing her leg over, "I'll know when they're coming."
Her brother shook his head as she hoisted herself over and gained a foothold on the wall, then pulling herself around so she had her back to the window. Then, heart pounding, she grabbed ahold of a thick tree branch, and swung herself down to land within the nest of branches, before scrambling down the tree trunk, out the garden and down the road to Mairi's.
She wasn't waiting on the doorstep. Calla paused a moment at the gate, lingering before she walked up and rang the doorbell, hoping that the Bairds weren't in the middle of tea. It was Andrew who opened the door, and he regarded her with cool surprise before he called over his shoulder, "Mairi! It's Calla!"
There was a clatter of cutlery and a rushing of feet and then Mairi appeared from behind the kitchen door, face glowing as she rushed to hug her tightly. "Calla! I didn't think you were coming! What happened, your aunt said you couldn't come out! I was... I was worried."
"I snuck out," she admitted. "The Dursleys are out at some reception for some lawn competition." She rolled her eyes. "We didn't really listen to what they said, but they'll be gone for ages."
"It's so good to see you," Mairi mumbled into her hair. "I was worried. What the hell happened?"
"Come in, Calla," called Mairi's mum from the kitchen, and her voice was slightly worried under attempts at nonchalance, "don't let her leave you standing outside. There's some extra casserole if you'd like it."
"Oh, that's fine," Calla said quietly, as Mairi tugged her through, setting her on a disgruntled Andrew's chair. Mrs Baird gave her a plate anyway a moment later.
"So, what's up?" Mairi asked, brow furrowed in concern. "Your aunt wouldn't let me anywhere near you - she's got a right voice on her hasn't she? Like a screaming cat."
"Mairi," her mother scolded.
"She does, Mum. You'd say so too if you were there, and I wish you were, you'd have given her a right earful."
"What did happen, Calla?" Mrs Baird asked kindly. "What Mairi told us was very confusing. We... Were rather concerned."
"Your aunt said you were in trouble, that you and your brother had done something? She didn't say what. Then she made me leave."
"We didn't do anything," she said. "We just... Harry got into a bit of a fight with Dudley, and then it kind of spiralled and Harry and I didn't actually do anything but..." She shrugged. "You know what they're like, I guess. It didn't matter what we say, they're convinced we're the bad guys."
"Well." Mrs Baird's mouth thinned into a straight line, frowning. "As long as you know you're in the right, Calla, that's what I always say. I'm sure it'll blow over soon enough, though you had best make sure you get home before your family returns. I don't think being found here will do you any favours with them."
"I know," Calla said tiredly. "I just needed to get out for a bit."
Mrs Baird's forehead crinkled in worry. "Calla," she said tentatively, "everything is alright at home, isn't it? I understand you don't get along well with your aunt and uncle, and I gathered from Bobby that your cousin isn't particularly nice either. And you're so awfully skinny, and so pale sometimes. I just... I felt I ought to ask. If you're in a situation that isn't good for you, we can help to get you out of it."
Calla stared at her, cheeks heating furiously. How could she even begin to sum up how completely not-alright everything was? And where did she start? With how the Dursleys hated them and always had? How Uncle Vernon had basically said he wished that Harry got executed? That they were treated like prisoners? That Dudley got away with everything and always had and it had only gotten marginally better because they found out they were magic and even then! How did she tell them that she couldn't even count how many times she'd contemplated running away, just disappearing on her own? How they'd tried it before?
She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "It's... I mean it's not great, we don't get along well but... Nothing's wrong."
"You don't have to be frightened to say anything," Mrs Baird said, and Calla shook her head firmly.
"No, I'm not frightened! It's just... It is what it is, you know?"
Sensing that Mrs Baird wouldn't let it go, she sent Mairi a pleasing glance and she seemed to comply. "Mum, Calla doesn't want to talk about it," she said, getting to her feet. She held out her hand. "Come upstairs with me."
"I'd still feel better if you told us more of what happened, Calla."
"Thanks, Mrs Baird," she said quietly, "but I am okay." Her throat stuck a little. "It's just boring being cooped up." Then she smiled as much as she could bring herself to, given as how she felt she was going to melt from the pressure of being asked to talk about one of the things she hardly ever could talk about. "But thanks for asking."
Perhaps an hour or so later, Calla had her head on Mairi's shoulder, staring up at the ceiling, rubbing the back of Mairi's hand lazily with her thumb. The world outside the window was quiet, and a Kate Bush record played in the corner, spoken over by the occasional bursts of laughter from downstairs. It felt so peaceful here, rid of the tension that had filled Number Four the last few days. The Cranberries were playing on the radio, and Calla tilted her head up to look at Mairi, catch her pretty eyes. A smile danced across her lips. "What?" Mairi asked, grinning.
"Nothing," Calla said quietly. "Just looking at you."
Mairi's eyes softened as she tilted her own head down, pressing a kiss tenderly to Calla's lips. Warmth settled in her belly, that gentle familiarity spreading through her blood. She pulled away, as Mairi's lips danced over her cheek, the edge of her mouth. Mairi met her eyes questioningly, and Calla felt unsaid words on her lips. There were so many words she wished she could say, so many secrets she wished she could tell her.
"What did happen?" Mairi asked her softly. "Your aunt seemed so angry. I know you don't get along great, but..." She trailed off, pursing her lips.
"It's like I said," she said, even though it wasn't. "Harry and I just really haven't had a great time of it. Dudley - he started making fun of us. Of someone we care about, and of our parents, and... We both did kind of snap. But we didn't do anything, he just - well, his parents always believe him, don't they? They all think we're mental. They'd kick us out if it they didn't think it would cause a scandal. Even two months out the year's too long for us to stay with them.
"You shouldn't have to stay with them," Mairi said. "Doesn't your godfather have a place?"
Calla snorted. "Yeah, he does. They both do - Harrys's godfather as well - we just haven't been invited yet. Don't know when we will. It's all just... Complicated. They have a lot of work to do and I think they think we'll get in the way." She sighed. "I just want out, you know? I just want all of this to be over."
"All of what?"
She shrugged. "Existence. It's bloody tiring."
"Calla-" Mairi started, just as the doorbell rang downstairs. Mairi's hand settled on Calla's waist, her other hand reaching up to stroke her hair. "What's wrong?" she whispered.
"Everything, I guess," Calla told her, teaching up to her hair and taking Mairi's hand to twine their fingers together. "I-"
"Mairi! Calla!" They both startled, hands breaking apart. "It's... Calla's godfather?"
Calla sat bolt upright, scrambling off the edge of the bed. "Speak of the devil," she murmured faintly. Remus was here? Now? Her mind raced through all the terrible possibilities of why he'd come here, of what had happened, if he was okay. She was hurrying out of the room before the knew it, Mairi following quickly as she hurtled down the stairs, face flushing. She tugged the hem of her t-shirt down, smoothing out her hair, hoping her cheeks weren't flushed, hoping it wasn't obvious that she and Mairi were more than friends - oh God, what if Harry had said something, how would she explain that? How would Remus take it?
"Remus?" she said, and then faltered when she got to the bottom of the stairs and saw who was behind him. Worry rolled through her stomach like nausea and she swallowed rising bile. "Oh. I, I-"
"Alastor wanted to come with me to get you," Remus said smoothly, looking between her and Mairi. She felt her face flush very hot indeed.
"Is... Is everything alright?" she managed to stammer out. "Is Harry..."
"Everything's fine," Remus told her gently, "we just wanted to come and pick you up tonight. The house is ready for you." His eyes flicked to Mairi and then to her mother. A frown crossed her brow, and Moody narrowed his eyes behind him. "I thought you would have gotten the letter, but clearly not. Harry's just getting his things packed."
"Oh." Calla's gut clenched. All Summer she'd wanted this, but he just showed up now, after ignoring her, and she wasn't prepared for the wave of resentment that rolled through her stomach, when he just appeared as if it was fine when it wasn't. "Right." She shook her head. "I - yeah, you're right, I... Didn't know you were coming." She swallowed. "Are we... staying all Summer again?"
Remus nodded, and Calla bit her lip. "All - all right."
Mairi turned to look at her, eyes wide and lips parted. Calla's chest gave a lurch. "You're going?" she asked. "Just like that?"
"I..." Calla dropped her voice. "I kind of have to."
"All Summer?" Mairi was looking at her in shock. "There's still a month left!"
"I - I know." She really, really didn't want to go. Frustrated tears pricked the back of her eyes. She glanced back at Remus, who smiled uncertainly, and Moody, who nodded impatiently. They seemed to be in a hurry to go and that spelled trouble to her. "Look, I... I don't really know what's going on," she whispered. Mairi looked at her blankly, seeming lost, her eyes unbearably wide. "Like I said. It's - it's complicated. I'll write to you, or phone, if - if I can."
"So that's it," Mairi said flatly, shaking her head. Her lips seemed to wobble. "You're leaving. Again. All Summer?"
"You know I would leave soon enough anyway."
Mairi's cheeks reddened a little and she pursed her lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you would. I just didn't think it'd be like this." She shook her head bitterly and forced a smile. "You should go then. Better to get out of your aunt and uncle's house while you can."
"I'm sorry," Calla said quietly, trying to reach out to her. Andrew came out of the living room, and gave her a questioning look. "I will write to you if I can."
"Don't worry about it," Mairi told her, and she felt her chest tighten. Calla had a very heavy feeling in her legs as she stepped down slowly. "I guess I'll see you next Summer then."
"I'll miss you."
Mairi looked for a second like she was going to say something else, and then stopped herself. "Yeah. Enjoy the rest of your Summer, Calla." She turned sharply and hurried back up the stairs.
Calla made to go after her, wanting to explain even though she couldn't, but Moody said warningly, "Potter." She turned back around. Mairi's mother was frowning like she didn't quite understand what was going on, but her face was set firmly.
"She doesn't have to go with you," she said. "Not if she doesn't want to." She gave Calla something like an encouraging look.
Calla shook her head nervously. "No. No, I do. I just... Didn't expect to be going so soon."
Mrs Baird still appeared rather troubled as Calla met Remus and Moody by the door. Her godfather put a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Tell Mairi, will you? I think she's upset."
Mrs Baird pursed her lips. "You're always welcome here, Calla." Her eyes darted to Remus and then to Moody, who Calla thought looked altogether rather frightening, though Mrs Baird didn't seem to flinch. "Remember that. But do write to Mairi, please."
"I will," she said quickly. "Of course I will."
"We really ought to go," Remus said. "Come on, Calla."
With one last apologetic look to Mrs Baird, Calla stepped down out of the hall and into the garden outside. Mrs Baird said, "Phone if you need anything," and then closed the door gently as they made their way back down the path.
The moment she closed the door, Calla started speaking freely. "What's going on? Where's Harry, why are you here now? You didn't say anything!" She glared at Remus. "Why didn't you say anything!"
"I'm very sorry," Remus said. "We had to be very careful with the information we put in letters, in case owls got intercepted."
"You could have come to see us!" Calla said, and found she was shouting, just a bit. "You could have explained! You could have taken us to be with you and Sirius, instead of leaving us here! We got attacked! Didn't you get my letter? You didn't even-"
"Keep your voice down, Potter," Moody growled, and clamped a hand over her mouth. She shoved him off roughly, spitting.
"It's alright, Alastor," Remus said quietly, and put an arm around Calla's shoulders. "I promise we'll explain everything when we can."
"We wanted you to explain before," she said. "Before we got attacked, Remus! We told you we didn't want to be here!"
"I'm sorry," he said, and Calla could tell he meant it, so she continued back to Number Four in silence and they slipped in through the conservatory.
"Ooh, is this her?" a dark haired which asked from beside the drawers, holding a potato peeler. "They really do look quite similar, don't they. Same eyes."
Calla stared. There were about half a dozen people in the kitchen, one witch - who had just spoken - and then four wizards. She stared at them, then at Remus. "Who the hell-"
"Calla, these are part of the Order of the Phoenix. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore-" he gestured to the two men who were examining the microwave "-Hestia Jones-" the dark haired witch who'd just spoken waved at them "-Dedalus Diggle-" a short wizard in a violet top hat beamed at her from beside the toaster "-and Elphias Doge." An older looking wizard nodded to her, leaning over parchment.
"I thought you might want to write this letter, Remus," he said in a wheezy voice. "You know the Muggles best, after all."
Remus nodded, moving away from Calla's side. "Calla, your brother's upstairs with Nymphadora, packing. Could you give them a hand?"
She nodded, still a bit shocked, and hurried up the stairs. Harry was with a violet haired, young looking witch in their room, hauling their trunks. "Oh," she said, hurrying to grab Matilda into her arms. "Are - are you Nymphadora?"
Nymphadora's eyes narrowed. "And which one of them called me that?"
"Um." Calla looked at Harry, who shrugged. "Remus?"
Nymphadora shook her head. "I go by Tonks. Not my fault my mother saddled me with such a stupid name." Then she grinned at Calla. "I've heard a lot about you. Give us a hand with these cages?"
Calla nodded sharply, grabbing Moony's owl cage and helping Harry and Nymphadora Tonks head down the stairs. "You have packed everything I have?" she asked Harry, who nodded.
"Yup. All your books, too."
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
"How's Mairi?"
She shook her head, heart sinking at the thought. What she'd said... Calla had never been through a break up before, but it had felt awfully like one. "I'll tell you later," she muttered, as she returned to the kitchen, where Remus was finishing up his letter to the Dursleys.
"Excellent," he said, looking up. "We've got about a minute, I'd say. We should probably get this into the garden so we're ready. Calla, Harry, I've left a note telling your aunt and uncle not to worry-"
"They won't."
"-that you're safe-"
"That'll just depress them."
"-and you'll see them again next Summer."
"Seriously?"
"Possibly. We're still-"
"Working on it." Harry huffed and met Calla's eyes. She was thinking the same. Dumbledore was never going to let them choose where they lived. He liked to control them.
"Come here, the both of you," Moody growled, beckoning Calla and Harry over to him. "I need to Disillusion you."
"You need to what?"
"Disillusionment charm," he said. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibiity Cloak, but that's only going to cover one of you, and it won't stay on while flying."
Calla's stomach took a tumble. "F-flying?"
"This'll disguise you better," Moody said.
"We're flying?" She sent Remus an urgent look.
"It was the only way we could go without risking detection."
"You've Apparated us before."
"The Ministry is extra attuned to the Trace where you two are concerned," Remus told her. "We can't risk it. So flying it is." He smiled. "Don't worry, Calla, you'll be fine."
She let out a shrill laugh, as Moody tugged her over to him. "Yeah. Yeah, flying totally sounds like a great- ow!" Moody rapped her on the head with his wand, and it felt like an egg had just been cracked over her head, a weird, cool feeling trickling down her. "That feels weird."
"There," Moody said, sounding satisfied.
"Nice one, Mad-Eye," Tonks said appreciatively, staring at Calla. She glanced down, eyes widening. It was different than being under an Invisibility Cloak; it wasn't that she couldn't see herself, or that she could see herself but no one else could, but that her body had just take on the exact appearance of the drawers behind her.
"This is weird," she said, staring down. She tried to look at Harry, but he was also disillusioned, seeming to blend into the drawers every time she moved her eyes away from him.
"Yeah," Harry said, and she had the feeling he was looking at her as well. "This is really weird."
She snorted. "Are we identical now?"
"Definitely not."
"Enough talking," Moody said, unlocking the door. "Come on." They all stepped outside onto the pristine lawn. "Clear night," Moody grunted. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, we're going to be flying in close formation, two of you in the middle. Tonks'll be right in front of you, you just keep following her, keep close on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below, I'll be right behind you. The rest'll be circling us? We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed-"
"Is that likely?" Harry asked rather apprehensively, and Moody shushed him.
"-the others keep flying, don't stop-"
"Can we go back to the likelihood of someone getting killed, please? I have a question."
"Don't break ranks. If they take out the rest of us and you survive, Harry, Calla, the rear guard are standing by to take over. Keep flying east and they'll join you."
"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, they'll think we're not taking this seriously enough," Tonks said, strapping Calla's trunk and cage to a harness that hung from her broom.
"I'm just telling them the plan," Moody said gruffly. "Our job is to get the pair of them to headquarters and if we die in the process-"
"No one is going to die," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in a smooth voice.
"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Remus pointed up into the sky. A shower of red sparks flew among the stars. He handed Calla a broom, a Cleansweep judging by the handle and she stared at it gingerly. "It'll be alright," he promised her, and seeing Harry mount his Firebolt with ease, Calla nodded. She swung a leg over the other end of the broom, trying her best to ignore the dread in the pit of her stomach. Flying. On top of everything else, now she had to fly. The handle vibrated gingerly as she gripped it tightly, knuckles whitening.
"Second signal, let's go!" Remus said, as more red sparks flared up in the sky.
Calla felt like she would really rather not, but Harry kicked off immediately and she was not going to be left behind. Trying to pretend like she totally trusted the broom not to throw her off, she kicked off from the ground too, rising higher and higher into the cool night air.
She refused to look down, just kept her eyes focused on Tonks in front of her. Everyone else seemed entirely at ease, but she felt a tight knot of nerves in her stomach as they flew onwards and onwards. How long were they to be up in the air for? Too long, probably. She made the mistake of looking down and looked sharply back up again, her broom lurching with her. "Careful!" Moody yelled, and she nodded, hair whipping her face.
"Sorry!" She was not going to look down again.
"Bearing south!" Mad-Eye shouted soon after. "Town ahead!"
She soared to the right, her stomach tumbling more and more. It felt a bit like a washing machine. Could she even throw up when she was this high in the sky? Or would it freeze? "Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud we can lose ourselves in!"
"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks yelled over her shoulder to him, and Calla quite agreed. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"
They did not, thankfully, end up flying through clouds. Calla was freezing cold anyway, her hands numb around her broom handle. She was sure she couldn't have let go even if she had tried. They must have flown at least two hours, she thought, before Moody yelled, "Bearing southwest! We want to avoid the motorway!"
The others all circled them as they moved, Calla determinedly following Tonks and never taking her eyes off of the end of her broom. "We ought to double back for a bit!" Moody shouted. "Just to make sure no one's following us!"
"What?" Calla yelled against the wind.
"ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?" Tonks shouted. "We're all frozen to our brooms! If we keep going off course we're not going to get there for two weeks! Besides, we're almost there now!"
"Time to start that descent!" came Remus' voice and Calla had never been so happy on a broomstick. "Follow Tonks, Calla, Harry!"
Tonks went into a sharp dive. Calla followed her, stomach lurching nervously, and she snuck a glance down. And it was actually, kind of beautiful. It was a large network of lights, like a spider web stretching for miles and miles. Was this London? She stared down at it, momentarily transfixed as the cool air ripples through her hair, prickling her skin, and she was held up in the air, gliding along. It all felt so much prettier from up here, and the world she saw before her was so much more manageable. And the lights were beautiful.
"Calla!" Remus yelled, and she looked around, startled. The others had all swooped lower, and Remus was staring up at her. She went into a steep dive and regretted it immediately, as now she was certain she was going to be sick. They flew lower and lower, Calla keeping her eyes always on Tonks, until they could see tall city buildings of lights, and individual lampposts and cars.
They would reach the ground soon, and Calla felt it could not be soon enough. Even if she had to be torn off and unfrozen from her broom, she wanted off of it as quickly as possible. "Here we go!" Tonks called and then a few seconds later, they landed.
Calla dismounted quickly on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square, steadying herself. They'd been in the air so long she seemed to have lost some of the feeling in her legs. Tonks was already unbuckling her trunk from the back of her broomstick, while Moody did the same for Harry's. She looked around herself in the darkness, at grimy housefronts and broken, dimly lit windows. This wasn't near Remus and Sirius' flat, she knew, but she hadn't fully expected to be going there anyway. "Where are we?" Harry asked.
"In a minute," said Remus quietly.
Moody seemed to be rummaging around in his cloak; a moment later he had brought out a small, silver lighter. "Got it," he muttered and clicked the lighter. The surrounding streetlamps went out with a light pop. Calla blinked in the sudden dark. "Borrowed it from Dumbledore. Should keep the Muggles from noticing anything if they look out their windows, see? Now come on, quick."
He hurried forwards and Calla followed, dragging the broom behind her. Remus and Tonks held a trunk between them, while Sturgis and Kingsley held another. The others held their wands out, flanking them. Calla looked around warily before stepping onto the road.
She could head the muffled pounding of a stereo and Muggle music from a nearby house, some new song with a strong bass. There was a pile of bulging bin bags outside, stinking the whole street. "Here," Moody muttered, and thrust a piece of parchment under both of their noses. Calla squinted at it in the dim lighting. "Read it quickly and memorise it."
She looked at the familiar handwriting, reading it over carefully.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
"Wait, the Order of-"
"Not here, boy!" Moody snarled, but Calla's mind was catching up quickly. Remus had mentioned the Order, hadn't he? So they were at its headquarters, now, and presumably Sirius was here too, somewhere inside. "Wait till we're inside!"
He took the scrap of parchment from Harry's hands swiftly and set it on fire. Calla stared at it as the flame curled around the note, and it eventually floated to the ground. She glanced up, seeing Number Eleven before them and Number Thirteen beside it. No Number Twelve. Was this some magic? A charm to hide it? Or was she merely not looking hard enough, in the right place?
"But where's-"
"Think about you've just memorised," Remus told them.
Calla frowned at him and then back at the wall between house eleven and thirteen, wondering if it was like platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, she thought, and then a moment, the wall seemed to move. Her eyes widened as she watched the magic slowly force the house into existence, pushing the other two away. The muggles in Number eleven didn't seem to have noticed anything at all, their stereo sill thumping away. "Right," Calla said, holding Matilda tightly in her arms.
"Come on," Remus said quietly, "hurry inside."
She walked up the worn stone steps, to the rather battered looking black door that had appeared in between the grimy windows. A large silver number twelve hung on the scratched, flaking paint, and underneath it was a large silver doorknocker in the shape of a snake. She looked for a keyhole or letterbox but there was neither.
Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the door with it. There were a series of metallic clicks from somewhere close and then the sliding of a chain. The door creaked open just enough for them to slip inside, and Calla hurried to do so, hoping it was warmer inside. It was a little bit, but the hallways was very dark and gloomy. "Don't go far," Remus whispered as Harry came in after her. "And don't touch anything. We don't want anything to wake up."
"This is creepy," Calla whispered, inhaling the damp and the dust, squinting through the dense gloom.
The house it was very obviously magical - not just because of the fact it had slid into existence out of nowhere. She could feel the tense tingle of magic up and down her arms and felt a horrible instinct to run. In amongst the scent of dust and damp was - whether in her imagination or not - the sense of death lingering heavy around her. With a glance over her shoulder, she could see the others all filing in behind, and she shivered, nausea sweeping over her. This place just felt wrong. Her every instinct told her to run, and a faint, cold whisper breezed against her ears.
Moody still stood on the top step, and with a click of the weird silver lighter he released the bright white balls of light back into their streetlamps in the square, before he shut the door and they were entombed entirely in the stifling darkness.