March 5, 1996
Calandra sat with her elbows resting on her knees, her chin in her hand, staring down at the eyes on the scrap of parchment. She was surprised that the healer hadn't found them before now. It had been years since she'd drawn them. The edges of the tiny bits of parchment were curled and the lines of ink not as pristine and crisp as they once were. But they were still his eyes. She could pick them out of a room in a heartbeat.
She chewed on her lip as she tried to focus her mind enough to bring his memories to the surface. She stared down into his eyes and tried pushing her other memories to the back of her mind, tried burying them away under Occlumency walls again, but it didn't do much. He was right, she was shit at Occlumency.
Her head started its steady thump-thump of dull ache that always happened when she tried to wrestle the memories into her will. She shut her eyes and focused on the pain. She pushed and prodded at her mind, causing the ache to grow. Sometimes, if she pushed hard enough, the pain would give way to a glimpse of a memory.
Not today, though. The pain just settled behind her eyes and made her dizzy. She lay on the bed and brought the scrap of parchment close to her face. She'd try again tomorrow. Tonight she'd sleep and, with any luck, the image of those eyes would keep the nightmares away.
April 10, 1996
Calandra washed her hands at the sink in the bathroom. She flung her hands out to her sides to shake the water from them and smiled at the gesture. It reminded her of a shaggy black dog that used to walk by her side at the park near the flat. A black dog that would splash in the water and chase the ducks, then stand beside her and fling water all over her. A shaggy black dog that used to run in forests with a stag and get into trouble. A dog that would never get the chance to do it again, because the stag was gone.
The thought sobered her. It brought everything into stark focus. Calandra counted quickly in her head, guessing at the years. He'd only gotten ten years with his best friend. With the one person who meant more to him than anything else. And he'd been stuck in that prison for...twelve years. He'd been stuck there for longer than he'd had his best friend. The unfairness of it all made her shake with fury. He and James had been cheated out of a lifetime of each other, and even though he'd escaped it couldn't bring that blasted stag back.
Calandra sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around herself and cried. She didn't cry for herself; those tears were long gone. She cried for brothers that never got to live the life they deserved.
May 4, 1996
She was finally able to pull one of his memories forward at will. It made her head pound and her eyes go blurry, but she could do it.
It was quick; barely even a memory, just a glimpse into the past, but it was something. It meant she could do it if she worked hard enough. She sat against the wall and focused her mind on the Gryffindor common room. Soon, misty tendrils formed familiar shapes and she was looking at James, Lily, and Sirius sitting on a couch.
James leant toward Lily and whispered something that made her blush, then Sirius sat up and told a joke. Lily threw her head back in laughter and James tousled Sirius hair.
That was all it was.
Calandra couldn't hear what they said, not yet, but it was enough.
May 12, 1996
Calandra chewed her lip as she paced the room. The healer had watched her anxiously when she took the potions today. Calandra wondered if it meant something was going wrong with her magic or if it meant that her magic was healing quicker than the healer wanted it to.
She ran her hands along the stone walls and tried different charms on them. She tried turning them yellow, making them glass, and as many other charms as she could think of. Nothing happened.
She stepped back and surveyed the wall. That large expanse of grey stone. Calandra bit her lip and reached a shaking hand out. She splayed her fingers wide across the stone and pressed her palm firmly against the wall. She cleared her throat and concentrated on her voice. She hummed to herself and swallowed.
"Colovaria," she said in a firm voice.
Something inside her hummed faintly. She startled at the feeling and grit her teeth.
"Colovaria," she said, louder this time.
That same feeling buzzed inside her, barely noticeable. Calandra smiled and lifted her chin.
"Colovaria," she repeated, not quite singing, but not simply speaking, either.
She pulled her hand away, and there on the grey stone where her palm rested moments before, was the faintest hint of yellow. In the shape of her hand. Calandra held her hand close to her chest and sank to the floor.
She knelt there, surrounded by grey stone, and wept tears of joy.
May 28, 1996
Calandra watched the healer peer around the room. The woman's eyes studied the floor and the walls suspiciously, then glanced at Calandra. Calandra swallowed, but didn't say a word. The healer handed Calandra two vials of potions and watched her closely as she drank them down.
"Anything new happening out there?" Calandra asked.
The healer cast a long appraising look over Calandra.
"Nothing of interest?" Calandra asked.
The healer shook her head and left the room. Calandra sat back against the pillow on the bed and studied the wall. The yellow handprint had faded not even a minute after she'd taken her hand away. There was no way the healer knew what to look for.
June 1, 1996
The images shifted in Calandra's mind and she stood in the bedroom of the flat staring down at herself sleeping. She had on an old vest and what looked like a pair of Sirius's pants. Her hair was wild on the pillow and one of her arms stretched out across burgundy sheets, feeling for something.
A sound behind her made her turn. Sirius stood at the end of the bed, toeing his shoes off. He kicked them to the side and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it at the basket in the corner. Calandra reached a hand out toward him, and he walked forward. For a moment she was filled with hopeful anticipation. Then, he walked straight through her and shucked his trousers off before sliding under the duvet.
He pulled the Calandra on the bed close to him and wrapped an arm around her, burying his face in her hair. He closed his eyes as her arm wrapped around his waist. He murmured against her hair, a smile on his face.
Perfect." He breathed.
Calandra stood there, hoping that the memory wouldn't fade away, staring down at a version of herself she almost didn't recognize. But, as always, white mist clouded her thoughts until the vision of her and Sirius wrapped around one another was nothing but fog.
June 10, 1996
There was a pattern to the headaches now. When she first woke up, they were just dull aches followed by a horrible burst of pain that seemed to ebb back off just a bit after a few moments. But then it grew and grew throughout the day, culminating in horrible jolts of pain around what she assumed was midday. Evenings were bearable. Calandra spent her days waiting for the food to appear on the dishes that sat on the tray in her room. When the food appeared, the headaches usually faded a bit.
Nights were varied. Some nights, she could sleep somewhat peacefully. Other nights were unbearable. It was as if all of her worst nightmares lurked in the shadows of her mind and were waiting to trap her there in the darkness with them forever.
Calandra tried to figure out what the pattern meant. She pretended to be asleep when the healer brought in the potions, so she could take them at a different time than normal. But that didn't change anything. The same pattern held. She changed her sleeping patterns, she changed when she ate, she changed everything that she had the power to change. But the pattern still held. The headaches were worse during the day, then eased off at dinnertime.
Calandra chewed on her fingernails and wondered what it meant.
June 14, 1996
Calandra ate her dinner in silence. Her head had stopped its pounding. Flashes of memories floated across her mind and she tried to focus on seeing them clearly.
Playing with Harry on the Potters' sofa.
Climbing a tree at school.
Hugging Alice.
Fireworks exploding in the sky.
Snowballs flying through the air.
Remus whispering to James.
Sirius eating a biscuit.
A stag walking across the road.
The Whomping Willow.
She let herself get lost in them, relishing the brief glimpses into a life she used to be a part of. Waiting for the pain and the fog to return.
June 16, 1996
The bottles of soap and shampoo in the bathroom sat on the floor beside the tub. Calandra gazed at them with sad eyes and a hollow heart. The soap bottle was lighter than the shampoo bottle; Calandra had held it in her hands turning it around and around many times before.
If she brought it out into the light it was light brown, golden highlights catching on the light. Bright amber that took her back to late night conversations and reassuring nods. It was the color of feeling loved and secure and accepted. It was a pretty, open face and skinny arms wrapped around her shoulders.
If she set the bottle back in the shadow from the tub it was darker. Deep amber that always made sympathy well up in her chest. It took her back to library books and sarcastic jabs and gentle hands that always patted her back. It was the color of trust and understanding and protection. It was long scars and curly brown hair and knitted jumpers.
The shampoo bottle had hints of green in it when she tilted it from side to side. Light brown with streaks of gold and bright spots of green. It almost always made her want to smile, especially the irony of it. It took her back to jokes and pranks and bone crushing hugs when there was something to celebrate. It was the color of laughter and hope and family. It was quick smiles, messy hair, and an incredible talent for transfiguration.
Then there were the walls. Those grey walls. Under the lights of the bathroom, the walls were almost right. They weren't dark and stormy like the room where her bed was. Here they were light, and when Calandra splashed water from the tub on them, they almost sparkled. It took her back to early mornings and late nights and lazy Sunday afternoons. It was the color of hope and desire and love. It was dark ink and silky hair and the taste of caramel on her tongue. It was home.
June 18, 1996
Her head pounded and her heart raced. She drew herself into a ball and lay on the bed, pressing her hands against her temples. Calandra grit her teeth and counted the heartbeats that throbbed in her skull. She focused on the memories that she knew swirled somewhere in her mind and tried to bring them forward.
Bits of conversation floated to the forefront of her mind and she focused on them instead of the pain.
A small voice.
"Brightest ones…"
A man, reminding her of when she'd go to Diagon Alley and would see street vendors selling things at stalls.
"New line of Juggling Jumpers….."
Remus's voice full of laughter.
"Nice one."
Calandra's voice echoing through her own mind.
"Do this on my own…"
Sirius scoffing.
"Better than that…"
James laughing.
"Of course you are…"
McGonagall's prim voice.
"Very proud..."
Little baby laughs.
Calandra waited for the fog to cloud her mind like it always did. The ache in her head grew worse than it had ever been before and she cried out in pain. She pulled the pillow over her head and tried to focus on her breathing.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
The vein in her temple throbbed and she felt like there were knives stabbing through her mind. The pounding built to a horrible crescendo and Calandra bit her lip so hard it drew blood. She clenched her fists together and focused once again on her breathing.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe ou-
Her hands went limp and she sagged against the bed.
The pounding had stopped. The ache was gone. Calandra gasped for breath and sat up in bed. She swallowed and held shaking fingers to her head. There was no pain at all. Not even the dullest ache. Nothing. She let out a shaky breath and lay back against the pillow.
Calandra felt oddly alone. The pain had accompanied her for so long. It felt like an extension of her, and now that it was gone Calandra felt as if a part of herself was missing. She closed her eyes and mulled on the simultaneous feelings of relief and loneliness.
