Ascendancy - Book I of the 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

IX. 20th December 1931 - the story

It was now almost a month since Callidora had seen Harfang. Well, technically, she had seen him. In a corner of the corridor, eating in the Great Hall, or with his friends, McLaggen and Avery, a senior Ravenclaw. He never turned his head in her direction. Every time she passed him, she hoped he would lift his chin and smile at her, as he had done at the beginning of the year. But he didn't. Not a sign. Not a movement of the head.

Not a peep. Absolutely nothing.

After all, what had she expected? He had said it himself, she was free. She had nothing more to do with him. Yet, somehow, she would have preferred him not to give up. It was only when he had let her go that she had been interested. Not because she liked this kind of seductive hide-and-seek, but because he had seemed human. She had seen in his eyes everything she would never have imagined in him, and that was worth more than just an attractive face.

If Harfang ignored him completely, McLaggen, on the other hand, noticed their game. He was a childhood friend of Harfang's, their relationship going back long before Hogwarts, so he wasn't the one to be fooled. Harfang was trying hard to forget Callidora and was suffering for it. He bitterly regretted his little blackmail. McLaggen had not been told what the blackmail was really about, except that he wanted the Black girl's hand, but that was enough to make up his mind. Seeing his friend give up made him angry. Harfang had never let himself be pushed around, even less so in front of a girl. It seemed that the Blacks made an impression everywhere.

One day on his way back to the Common Room, he passed Cedrella, Callidora's younger sister. She was probably on her way back from Gryffindors Tower, Asler McLaggen had often seen her there, with the Weasleys. He took the opportunity to block her way, something the young girl did not like. It had to be said that being friends with Harfang meant being hated by Gryffindors and friends of Gryffindors.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, easy Black, you don't have to show me your teeth. I just wanted to know where your sister was."

"Which sister?"

"It must be difficult for you guys when you get together, huh? 'Go ask your uncle, go find your sister', 'be precise, I have five uncles and ten sisters'!"

Cedrella took a few seconds to think about what he had just said, as if there was something to think about. She should have laughed. Oh no, that's right, Asler mused, Blacks don't know humour.

"I don't have ten sisters. I have two. Unfortunately, they're both at Hogwarts."

"Charis is a narcissistic egomaniac, why would I need to talk to her?"

"Callidora is worse, I don't know what you'd have to say to her."

"At least Callidora is nice."

"Did you fall in love or did you just drink too much?"

Cedrella Black's legendary repartee in all its glory. The girl was a tornado. No wonder Weasley liked her.

"Neither," he replied with a half-smile. "I haven't had a drink for two days."

"Oh, new record!"

"No, my record was a week. Anyway, a lot of nonsense. Do you know where Callidora is?"

"In the library, why don't you–"

But he had already left for the place he hated the most. Frankly, he didn't understand why so many students went there. For homework, the Common Room was very pleasant. Of course, there were always some first-class jerks paid to distract the others, but you just had to choose the time. Mrs Pince, the new librarian, was just too scary for him. The silence that filled the library stressed him. A lot. Every step a student took was observed, since distractions there were kept to a minimum. It was Azkaban but the Hogwarts version. Who would deliberately go to Azkaban?