Song:
The Moment I Knew (Taylor Swift)
"And what do you do when the one who means the most to you, is the one who didn't show?"
The next day, it was as if nothing had happened.
Callisto had taken her seat next to Regulus and Narcissa, putting a pancake on her plate and coating it with her usual chocolate syrup. Instinctively, she had looked towards the Gryffindor table, the sight of Remus finishing his essay while James waved a spoon full of cereal in front of his face bringing a small, bitter smile on her lips.
Remus had greeted them all like usual, before he pulled out the almost finished essay and his quill. He didn't say anything more, focusing on his assignment in order to try and distract himself from what he had witnessed the previous evening. Peter's confession still felt heavy on his chest, his eyes lifting up slightly to glance at Callisto. There was no blood on her, the blue jacket and white shirt she was wearing replaced by her school uniform. Sleeves scrunched up, revealing scarred, pale arms, her silver and green tie tied loosely around her neck, only accentuating how crumpled her school uniform was.
Peter's gaze was fixed on his waffle, his fork playing with the ridiculous face made of berries and whipped cream Lily and Sirius had decorated his plate with. He only looked up, locking eyes with Remus who gave him a toothy grin, full of reassurance. Peter would have almost let himself believe it, hadn't it been for the small owl flying over them and dropping a single, white folder on the table.
He gingerly picked it up, vaguely aware of Remus' gaze. He could bet that if he turned around at that moment, he would see Callisto staring at him, eyebrows furrowed and an unreadable expression in her dark blue eyes.
Peter,
I know what you expect this letter to be. You want a proper goodbye; you need to hear what Callisto told me to write to you. You, Petey, want to fool yourself into believing whatever stupid excuse I'd make up for my mother's "death". There's no need for that, you wouldn't believe it either way. I know you and Lupin were there, I could practically smell you.
I have to write you something though to appease Callisto. If she can't love me the way I do, I will settle for pleasing her just one more time. A letter for her, the truth for you.
I never loved you, and I never could. I'd say you shouldn't take it personally, but what other way is it to take this? She's everything you're not, but you knew that already. It took me only one "date" to realize you're nothing but a shadow, trying to reach your friends, but never quite making it. They all see it, Petey. How could they not when you reek of insecurity and weakness? So, to answer the question you're surely thinking of, I didn't mean any of it. There's no reason for me to keep pretending when I know the game is lost.
It was a Game of Hearts, and I lost. We both lost, but to different people. I lost to Lupin, you lost to Callisto. And them? They will keep on losing every time they choose each other.
I don't need to worry about him too much. Or, I do, and I haven't quite realized it yet. I hope her love will be too much for him to stand, God knows how much I need it. You must understand, Petey, that they're not right for each other. What does he have to offer her? He can barely sort out his feelings, how will he handle hers? Remus doesn't know Callisto the way I do.
I'm leaving to forget. I suggest you learn to do the same.
Monica Ricci.
Peter folded the letter and buried it deep in his pocket, standing up from his seat. A wave of nausea hit him and he hurried out of the Great Hall, a broken sob escaping his lips as he leaned against the wall.
If someone asked Peter on the night of Halloween 1981, why he betrayed his family, he wouldn't know what to answer. After some point, everything blurred together, pieces of his memory missing.
That was never the correct question.
If someone, however, were to ask him where everything went wrong, he would answer it all happened that morning of March 1977.
~ ~ ~
"Guess what, Claire." Regulus hinted, plopping down on the seat next to her. In his hand there was an opened folder with the Black family crest on it, although the cheerfulness in his voice immediately let her know there was no reason to worry.
He cleared his throat, turning to look at the parchment.
"Dear Regulus, As we have already told you, you will have to be in the manor for the second week of the Easter vacation. However, seeing as Miss Claire is going through all the hardships you described with her fiance's disappearance, you are allowed to stay with her family for the first week. This is a strong alliance, Regulus, we are very pleased that blah blah blah."
"Hardships?"
"A tragedy, really." Regulus sighed, flashing her a grin. "All settled, Claire. Where are we staying?"
"Probably a hotel." She laughed, shrugging. From what Elena had said, it was suspected that the Lawsons had put people watching her every move, so having Callisto back for Easter was not ideal. Elena had sent her some segments from newspapers, in some of which she was also included. The disappearance of Bulgaria's golden son had shaken up everything, while Antonia's had gone unnoticed. "Did Narcissa's parents allow her?"
"Yes." Regulus confirmed, unable to hide his excitement. "It's gonna be the best week ever, Callie. I can feel it."
He leaned over the parchment Callisto was carefully studying, surprised to see it was a ministry form from the research committee. They were a small group of experts, only bigger than the Unspeakables which were only ten hand-picked people from the Minister himself. His father had wanted to apply for an open position, only that it was finally taken by Euphemia Potter.
Nobody had spoken to Orion Black that night, both Regulus and Sirius locking themselves in their rooms, with their house elf, Kreacher, hiding under 10 year old Regulus' bed.
"What's that for?" He asked curiously, letting out a small laugh as he saw her write down '69' in the age section, before she finished it off by circling 'male' as the gender. "You're pranking the ministry, Callie?"
"Something like that." She casually answered, tapping her pen on the name section. "Give me a name, Little Black. Make it stupid."
"Lord Bendover."
"Not that stupid." She corrected herself, exhaling sharply. "What could your uncle be called?"
"Cyril?" She shook her head negatively. "Theodore, Hermes, Alberto? Or like, Leonard or Damocles?"
"Damocles." She repeated, humming thoughtfully. "I like it. Sounds like a proper douchebag's name."
"You want a last name too?"
"Sure."
"I suggest a double d, for comedic purposes, of course." He pondered, leaning back on the couch. "Maybe Dragmellion? Damocles Dragmellion? No, that's wrong."
"Delby?" Callisto proposed, before her eyes flashed with excitement. "Belby! Damocles Belby!"
"Dragmellion was better." Regulus muttered grumpily, Callisto stomping on his foot teasingly. "Fine, Belby is okay. How low have you stooped to prank the ministry?"
"It's more like how low they have stooped." She remarked, shaking her head. It was her name that should be on the application, not a made up guy's name who would probably be a huge wanker in real life. This was her creation, and now, some old fictional guy would get all the recognition for it.
At least the potion will be out, A small voice whispered in her head, soothing her nerves a little bit.
"I heard Georgiev has a little surprise for you today." Regulus hummed, a knowing look in her eyes. "Seventh year exclusive practical."
"Fucking hell." Callisto groaned, letting her head fall back on the couch. "Can this class get any worse?"
"He's a good teacher." Regulus shrugged, pinching her sides. "You just suck at DADA."
"No, I don't." She stubbornly said, crossing her arms. "I got an O in my last essay, and I can create a patronus. Can you do all that?"
Regulus smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously. Callisto couldn't help but think of how similar he and Sirius looked when the thin veil of sadness had been lifted from Regulus' eyes. He almost looked like a normal 16 year old boy, one that wouldn't be destined for death by the summer of 1979.
~ ~ ~
Fuck Monica.