Whispers

Twenty Four

Over the next days, Calliope did her best to forget about the issues of the world around her and focus on the preparations for the wedding. Molly had them all at work making the house fit for a wedding.

"See, this is why it's a good thing that we didn't give her time to do this." Fred nudged Calliope as the pair of them fed the chickens in the yard on the night of the 30th July.

Calliope laughed lightly as she threw out a handful of chicken food. Although most of the other inhabitants of the house complained about the chores that Molly had them doing all hours of the day, however, Calliope found that it helped her distract herself from the whispers which had been murmuring about the deaths of wizards and muggles alike for the last month.

"Are you two done yet?" Molly stuck her head out of the house, "Fred could you de-gnome the garden with Charlie and Calliope dear, Harry needs help cleaning out the garage."

Fred shot Calliope a glance and rolled his eyes, causing her to laugh again.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Fred Weasley! Chalie is waiting for you!" 

"I'm on my way, Mum." Fred grabbed Calliope's hand and squeezed it lightly before moving off towards the garden gate.

Calliope returned the bag of chicken feed to Molly in the kitchen and went to the garage, where Harry was sat rummaging through a box full of household items. Calliope silently grabbed another box and sat down across from him, rummaging through her box, adding items to the two piles that Harry had started- one for the bin, one to keep.

Calliope could feel Harry's eyes on her, but it was a while before she spoke.

"So how's the Horcrux hunt going?"

Harry stared at her, "how do you-"

"I went through the veil in the department of mysteries," said Calliope, "I know a lot of things. So have you found any?"

"No," said Harry, "but I think we're going to start in Godric's Hollow-"

"Why? There's nothing there." Calliope frowned,

"Well, we don't have anywhere else to start so it seems as good a place as any. Do you know where any of them are?"

"Think big, Voldemort likes prestige and grandeur for his hiding places."

"Why do you and Dumbledore enjoy being so cryptic all the time?"

"I'm not being intentionally cryptic," said Calliope, "but there's only so much that the whispers will allow me to tell people. If I meddle too much then what is supposed to happen won't." 

Calliope stared at the boy as he absorbed this knowledge. This 17-year-old boy who would have to die for the war to end, who would have to put himself through so much to bring Voldemort down. In that moment, Calliope felt more like a spirit of death than she ever had. Just a banshee in a garage with a boy who's destiny always had been to die. 

I'm on the verge of writing an enemies to friends romcom about two people in self isolation because of Coronavirus.
Also what's happening where you all are? Anyone in isolation? Britain has decided to go on as if nothing is happening which is far from reassuring... the good news however is that my mum has always been a toilet roll hoarder, so we've got about 50 in our house.
~Em xx