Login
MuggleNet Fan Fiction
Harry Potter stories written by fans!

Calliope and Thalia and Their Inspiration by lucilla_pauie

[ - ]   Printer Chapter or Story Table of Contents

- Text Size +
~o0o~ Family knots, indeed ~o0o~




Lia wished the day away. She received another scolding from Professor Morfosa in Transfiguration for mooning while in class. Defence and Herbology hadn’t been much better. Finally, it was lunch. Lia flew to Hagrid’s, and then doubled back to fetch Dionelise. When they arrived, Hermione was already there. She got up from the table and squeezed out the breath Lia had just panted back to her lungs. Lia garrotted her mother back.

“This is Dionelise, Mum.”

“Hello, Dionelise. Thalia’s told us so much about you. I’m so glad for your friendship.”

Dionelise could only smile timidly, or perhaps she was still winded from their dash. Hagrid offered them all mugs of tea. Mother and daughter did some chitchat and then Dionelise said, “We can’t wait to have you tomorrow, Professor Granger. Lia’s been a zombie all throughout this morning.”

Lia stomped on Dionelise’s foot. “Right, Mum, what are you doing here anyway?” she asked with alacrity. “What about the Ministry?”

“Hang the Ministry. Don’t you ever let me hear your teachers complaining about your lack of interest and participation in class, Thalia. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was all so sudden. My resignation just happened to coincide with Professor Flitwick’s retirement, which you helped bring about, didn’t you?” Her mum narrowed her eyes.

“It was an accident.”

Hagrid laughed.

“Where’s your other friend, Grace?” Hermione asked.

Dionelise suddenly stopped staring at Professor Granger and started playing with her tea bag. Lia flushed. “We’ve fallen out. I mean, not exactly, we just move in different circles, that’s all. We don’t meet or talk any more.”

“You do?” Hermione sounded amused. “You’d think you weren’t sharing a school! And you don’t? What about in classes? Well, did you find out her first name and surname?”

“Dionelise! We have to go! Lots of homework. Bye, Mum, Hagrid.”

Ignoring Dionelise’s grumbles while being dragged yet again, Lia began to wish the next day away. Bugger. She wished Callie away. Why did she have to go to Hogwarts, the stupid bint? She should have stayed in France! Lia didn’t want her mother hurt. And what could hurt more than seeing the breathing, talking and walking proof of her father’s infidelity? And just that morning Lia’d been planning on being sisters! How selfish of her. She wouldn’t inflict that on her poor dear mum.



~o0o~




Lia wasn’t at dinner. Hermione puzzled over that. But then she noticed Dionelise wasn’t at the Slytherin table either. It must be true about the homework. She could only hope. Those girls had better not be up to any trouble, especially now that she was here.

Those girls. And she didn’t really mean Thalia and Dionelise in that plural.

She sat to the Headmistress’s left, facing the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Due to the agreement, she endeavoured not to turn her head to the other direction without due cause. Aside from a cursory glance at all the tables that morning during their applause to her, Hermione had not looked at the Gryffindor table at all. But Merlin, she positively ached to look. As it was, she had her cheek on her hand, and that hand was slightly shaking with the effort to keep her head from swivelling just the right angle to finally see.

“Hermione, don’t hurt yourself. Shall I help you?” Minerva murmured.

“No! Please don’t!” she begged Minerva with her eyes.

The elder witch sniffed, but she covertly winked. “I’ve been hearing very good remarks about this year’s incoming students, that unfortunate miscalculated prank involving Professor Flitwick and a waterbutt notwithstanding. I think you will have a grand time with the first years. I almost wish I’m teaching as well, you know.”

Hermione nodded fervently.

“One certain student has been having outstanding academic progress. Now, who does she remind me of? It refuses to come to mind. She is a Gryffindor. There she is, please look. I want to show her to you.”

Tentatively, Hermione did look. Minerva had asked her! To her delight, the agreement didn’t curse her. She sat there looking at her daughter and she wasn’t dying slowly. Though it still felt like it. It was painful. Looking and not being able to rush over to hold her.

Her Calliope was so beautiful. As beautiful as Thalia. And Merlin, Morgana, Circe, she looked so much like her, only prettier. At this distance, she couldn’t see the Malfoy eyes, but Hermione recognised Calliope as hers in the slope and shape of the child’s forehead and cheeks. Her hair was a much lovelier shade of brown, gleaming red and gold with each turn of her head, and it wasn’t a bush either, but hung almost perfectly straight, curling at the ends.

Her uniform was impeccable. Most of her contemporaries looked almost ready for bed that time of the evening, but not Calliope. She was still groomed to perfection, tie knotted and in place, cuffs buttoned, jumper impeccable. And unlike her mother at that age and in that bench, she sat with her back straight. So straight Hermione wondered if it was painful. But she was glad she could see no jewellery on Calliope aside from the silvery wink of modest earrings and a matching discreet chain draped over her collar. Hermione couldn’t see the pendant. It was probably hidden inside Calliope’s jumper.

She was spooning peach melba into her mouth. Daintily.

Something clicked in Hermione’s memory. “What’s her middle name?”

Minerva cut her eyes at her with disdain. “Hermione, I might love you dearly, but still, you can’t expect me to remember all these children’s middle names.”

“It’s not Grace, is it?”

“Come to think of it, you might be right. I do remember I was a little astonished they appended such a common name to her. What I mean is, it must be common to them...”

Minerva trailed off, because Hermione was giggling like a schoolgirl. When she finished, she had tears in her eyes. Not from giggling.

“Oh, Minerva, what a mess,” she said mournfully.



~o0o~




“WHAT THE F--”

Draco remembered only belatedly that Callie was not in the cottage and he could curse all he wanted, but abstaining from it had been ingrained too long in his instincts he still cut the words off. He let the profanities stream and flood inside his mind instead.

He paced. And roared a curse when he banged his shin on the coffee table. He forgot about the furniture, and how the blasted cottage was too bloody small for pacing without risk of bruises. He sat down and settled for ramming his fist on the cushions of his new couch.

Damn her! Damn her foxiness! Damn her straight to Hades! How dare she! How dare she pull this on him!

Why didn’t he think of it before she did? And there he had been at the platform nearly gouging his eyes out just so he wouldn’t look! Now she could look all she wanted! The cunning b--

Draco let his head fall back and it connected with the windowsill. He was seriously thankful Callie was not at the cottage then. The litany that burst from him would make his mother curse his cobblers off if she happened to be within hearing distance.

In all this, the roll of parchment he still held in his other hand remained pristine. He could no sooner crumple a letter from Callie than he could dispose of her old toys. Even if the letter did piss him off. Rubbing his head, he read it again.



“Dear Daddy,

Just giving you some news at school. Professor Flitwick has retired officially. Our new Charms teacher is Professor Hermione Granger.

Hope you’re well.

Callie.”




There was a distinct undertone in this curt letter that made Draco fear the worst. Which was why he was so furious he wanted to tear the room down, if only the rest of the cottage wouldn’t collapse with it.

She just had to show her face, didn’t she? All those years of not having her photo in any publication in Europe, and now this. Granted, she probably didn’t know Callie was at Hogwarts. Still, he wouldn’t put it past her to have used her formidable connections to find out and execute this brilliant ruse through one of the many loopholes in that bedamned agreement.

And now Callie knew who her mother was. Draco just hoped she wasn’t hurting, but only heaven knew what his little girl was thinking, assuming, and plotting.

What an utter, bloody mess.



~o0o~




Callie was at breakfast that Tuesday morning, and she wasn’t hurting as her father feared. The day before had passed in the proverbial blur. Aside from writing that short letter to her father, Callie couldn’t even remember much. She’d just blocked what had to wait until today.

When she was around five or six, she’d been at a neighbour’s pet party. All the guests had a dog or a cat by their side or on their laps. Callie’s grandmother-- who had been invited-- had only dropped in with Callie to say hi to the hosts and convey her regrets for not being able to stay because she itched and sneezed in reaction to dander.

Like most children who’d learned their alphabet through animal picture books, Callie had been pining for a pet. But when she saw them finally, those Abyssinians, rexes, lhasa apsos and Weimaraners, it was as if her pining evaporated. There they were. They were wonderful. And they were within reach. She stayed for the party. And she was appeased.

Callie felt that way again now.

There her mother was. She was wonderful. And she was within reach.

Neither of them was going anywhere. And Callie fully intended to be appeased.

Last night, she was certain she almost caught ‘Professor Granger’ looking at her, but at the same moment Callie had turned to the staff table, the professor seemed to be laughing at something the Headmistress said.

She furtively kept her head angled now so that the staff table was in her peripheral vision even as she cut up her fruit. Was it her imagination, or was ‘Professor Granger’ never letting her eyes go to the Gryffindor table?

All of a sudden, Callie felt tears sting her eyes. A mother couldn’t not know about her child. Why had her mother left her, and now seemed to be determined not to even look at her? Was her father lying all these years and her mother, for some reason, didn’t want her?

But she wouldn’t wallow on that. She planned to change her mother’s mind anyway. Would it be so difficult? Callie thought not. Only, what was the agreement? Would it hinder her? She wanted to cover all her bases and eliminate things, like in mystery novels. The agreement still eluded her, and yet Callie felt like the answer was right there dangling an inch from her nose. The feeling irritated her.

The bell rang. Callie rose from the table as if she wasn’t rearing to just Apparate to the Charms classroom. She walked abreast with Kia even though Kia was such a slow-starter who always dragged her feet to their first class as though she’d only gotten up from bed. They were among the last to join the queue outside the Charms classroom. And right behind them came ‘Professor Granger’. Callie’s heart stuttered.

“Go on in, everyone,” the professor said, staying behind them all and opening the door with her wand.

It was hard to believe it was only their second week; this classroom already held so many memories for Callie. This time, she stopped following Kia’s dawdling steps and dragged her over to the front row, not to their usual seats in the second, where Callie and Lia had shot sparks at each other.

Kia seemed to come awake for a second, but didn’t protest about their being seated dead centre.



~o0o~




Hermione was silently muttering all the great names in a litany of torture and delight. Calliope was seated right in front of her. Jesus, Mary, Joseph. Hecate, Cerridwen, Paracelsus.

“How far have you come in Charms, then? Professor Flitwick told me to ask you. He said you might want to begin anew with me. Do you?”

Calliope raised a hand. Hermione had to swallow a hysterical chuckle. Oh, this was delicious. She drank her daughter in. She was even more beautiful today than last night, if that was possible. And those eyes. Hermione remembered wondering about those eyes. The last time she’d seen them, both her girls had been too young to ascertain to anyone what colour their eyes would be. Thalia’s had darkened to brown, of course. But Calliope’s had remained grey, Hermione saw now. They were striking. “Yes?”

“Please, ma’am, we have finished the theory behind Levitation Charms and we were about to have the practical.”

“Would you like to go first?” Hermione placed a feather in front of Calliope, and then waved her wand and all the other desks sported feathers as well. She caught Thalia’s eye and winked. Her Thalia could levitate a veritable mound of Stunned, ‘relocated’ gnomes. Hermione was too preoccupied with Calliope to take note of Thalia’s dark expression.

“You know the spell? And the proper elocution and wand movement?”

Calliope nodded demurely and swished and flicked, enunciating, “Wingardium leviosa!”

The feather easily rose three feet in midair.

“Excellent! Take twenty points to Gryffindor, Miss...?” Hermione pretended to be engrossed in the floating feather to resist the urge to grin at her daughter.

“Malfoy. Calliope Malfoy.”

Hermione nodded and turned to the rest of the class. “Now then, let’s see you all try. But before you do, I’ll let you in on a secret. I don’t command when I do spells. In this instance, I won’t be commanding the feather to fly. I want you to not concentrate on what you want the feather to do. Rather, I want you to use your mind for something else instead of mentally chanting, ‘Fly, fly, fly!’ Can anyone guess?”

Calliope raised her hand again. Morgana, Hermione wanted to kiss her for helping her so much in cheating that agreement.

“Miss Malfoy?” Callie. Draco called her Callie.

“We should see the feather already in the air? That’s what I did anyway, Professor.”

“And you’re right. Take ten points to Gryffindor. Did everyone catch what Miss Malfoy shared? In your mind, see the feather already obeying what you want it to do. That’s the trick to all magic, really. Confidence. What is confidence? Belief. In the magic and in yourself.”

When the bell rang again, there were twenty feathers hovering in the air and twenty gleeful faces grinning at each other and at Hermione. Points were awarded to everyone. Hermione felt as if she’d burst, and not only because her first year Gryffindor and Slytherin students seemed reluctant to leave, but because of dear, dear Callie, who stopped by her desk on her way out to say, “You’re a wonderful teacher, Professor.”

Her first compliment from Callie. How bittersweet. She could be much better mother, but she wasn’t allowed.



~o0o~




Of those twenty grinning students at Charms, Lia wasn’t really included. She was only being careful not to clue her mum in on her turmoil.

Lia was confused. She bumped into someone on the way to the courtyard for break. It was Professor Demouit, who told her off and warned them all he’d be carrying Torch Potion next and see which careless student he’d blow up then.

Dionelise had pity on her and steered her to the nearest copse of trees, sheltered from other students and certain mad professors. Like that night last week before Astronomy, Dionelise didn’t pry. Thalia was thankful for that and squeezed her friend’s hand even as she pondered on why her mum didn’t seem upset even after Callie announced her name. She even seemed... happy? How could she be happy facing Callie?

Except, what if it was all an act? What if her mother was actually trying extra hard to be nice to Callie Malfoy because, like her uncles had told her, Callie had no fault over what happened in the past? But what if it still hurt her mum? And Callie had the gall to sit front row centre!

Speak of the banshee, there she was. Lia marched over. Dionelise was startled at first, but then when she saw that Callie was Lia’s destination, reached out and tried to pull Lia away. “Come now, Lia. What’s she done now?”

“I have something to say to her, that’s all.”

They were only yards away then. Callie heard and looked up from where she sat on the bench near the corridor which was open to the courtyard.

“You stay away from Professor Granger, Calliope Malfoy.”

Callie looked bewildered. She glanced from Lia to Dionelise and back.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“Yes, you are. Just stay away from my mother, do you hear me?”

Just like that, Callie’s face went cold and sneery. “I would only go near your mother if I have a lance. That way, I still won’t catch her germs even when I gouge her eyes out.”

Lia forgot everything she’d been taught. She even forgot where she was. Her hand seemed to move by itself and slapped.

The sound of palm connecting on skin was a loud snap in the silenced courtyard. Callie gasped and blinked, and Lia blinked, too, as she saw her own handprint rise on her sister’s cheek. Before she could voice her remorse, however, Callie slapped her back.

Not drawing their wands this time, twin one and twin two went for Round Two.



~o0o~




It was short. They only exchanged another couple of slaps before Kia, Dionelise, Jesusa and Jessica separated them.

Now, they drew their wands.

They used spells this time, by Merlin. Red jets of light erupted from both their wandtips at the same time, collided, and bounced. It happened so fast no one could tell whose spell went where. And certainly, no one would be able to tell how the cauldron on Professor Demouit’s (who was passing by) arms exploded just then. Everyone was thankful he was out in the courtyard. The smell of sulphur was strong and suffocating. The professor was miraculously unharmed-- at least, no blood gushed from him--but he promptly passed out.

Professor Morfosa was the first on the scene. Seeing the red faces and drawn wands of Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy, and the way the four other girls seemed to be holding the two apart, what else would she make of it? And as she knew nothing of the two girls’ romantic story, who could blame her for her next actions, which was to send summons to Miss Malfoy’s parents and an enchanted flying memo to Miss Granger’s, who was already at the castle?

The owl bearing the letter to ‘Mr and Mrs Malfoy’ was very disgruntled, though, because instead of having a bespelled urgent flight after leaving his cosy perch in the Owlery, he only circled back toward the Headmistress’s window, because Mr Malfoy was already there.

“I see no violation of ethics in Professor Granger’s hiring, Mr Malfoy. Whatever agreement you have between you is just that, between you. It does not involve the school.”

“But you know about the agreement, you old bint!” Draco’s temper was such that he was speaking what he thought, bar only the worst obscenities. “This is unfair! I demand that you fire her, or make her resign, or curse her blind, I don’t care. Just... she can’t see Callie while I don’t see Thalia-- OW! Don’t you assault me, woman!”

Minerva McGonagall had risen to her feet in indignation at ‘you old bint’, and was glad of the distraction of receiving the owl tapping at one of the windows. Seeing the addressee’s name, she’d exultantly punctuated Draco Malfoy’s rant by ramming the letter under his nose.

“I’m not assaulting you, Mr Malfoy. Really, you do like your theatrics. That letter is yours.”

Draco ignored the letter. Just as he opened his mouth to rant some more, however, the door to the office opened, and there his daughters were. Draco just about swallowed his tongue.



~o0o~




Minerva rose from her desk, pale. What on earth was this? “Annetta?”

“These two girls were duelling! Duelling, Headmistress! And they had assaulted each other, too, from the look of their faces. This is their second clash, isn’t it? And something exploded. You might have to question Janus later, however. He is unconscious at the moment. I’ve already sent a letter to Miss Malfoy’s parents and a note to Professor Granger. She should be on her way.”

Minerva looked from the two girls to Draco and back. She should have liked Annetta to stay, but the good witch had already left with a nod to Draco.

And Hermione was coming.

Even as she begged the heavens to help her, Minerva wanted to giggle, something she had never had the urge to do in many decades.



~o0o~




In a moment of sympathy and concord, Lia and Callie exhanged looks, wondering why the Headmistress hadn’t begun questioning and ticking off.

Callie couldn’t look at her father.

Lia was already cringing just at the thought of her mother’s arrival.



~o0o~




The door banged open. “Thalia Maura Gr--”

Hermione gasped mid-yell and choked. Instinctively, Draco rose to assist her. Hermione glared him back to his seat while she coughed, eyes watering.

“Minerva!” Hermione moaned in tones of reproach and wounded betrayal. “What is he doing here?”

He smirked and tilted his head to the side. Hermione knew what it meant. He had Thalia in his peripheral vision. Hermione wanted to rush him and cover his eyes with the skin from his own nose.



~o0o~




Lia’s usually observant eyes failed to note the exchange between her mother and the man with them in the Headmistress’s office, because she was too concerned about self-preservation at the moment.

“Calliope Malfoy was insulting you, mum.”

“No, I wasn’t!” said Callie.

“Liar!”

But Lia was astonished at the look on Callie’s face. “Professor Granger is your mother?” she asked, so quietly and meekly Lia had leaned to her to hear.

“Of course she’s my mother!”

“I thought ‘Granger’ is your stepdad’s name or something.”

“I don’t have a stepdad.”

“Oh.”



~o0o~




Hermione, having reined in her desire to flay a certain someone, found a convenient though unfortunate vent for her ire just then. “What are you two mumbling about? How could you? Are you gutter children? Two fights and not even two whole weeks at school! I’m ashamed of you!”

“Don’t yell at them!” Draco shouted to her face.

“Don’t you yell at me and don’t you tell me what to do with my children!”

“They’re my children, too!”



~o0o~




“Ehem.”

Red-faced, Draco and Hermione turned to Minerva, and then to Thalia and Calliope, who were both staring at them with wide eyes.

In the same way the two sisters were momentarily united earlier, father and mother exchanged looks and conveyed through their eyes a shared wish for the floor to gape beneath them and swallow them both.
Chapter Endnotes: Told you I was on a roll, didn't I? Thanks for reading and reviewing! Oh, the quote with the asterisk ("There are no secrets in a house with children...")in the previous chapter comes from The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. Forgot to add that yesterday.