❝Every day she felt like a monster walking among the innocent, felt as if she were trapped on the other side of a locked door.❞
[prisoner of azkaban, deathly hallows]
[metanoia series, book three]
[minor oc x angelina j...
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( chapter iii. THAT WAS LAST YEAR )
— 🌙 —
Calypso was familiar with the long and drawn-out speeches of Dumbledore. It was mostly all the same; don't get in trouble, stay out of the Forbidden Forest, listen to Filch, be respectful, and the list goes on. Yet, it was not a normal year. Then again, there hadn't been a normal year since Harry Potter joined the school. The boy was a magnet to trouble and life-threatening situations. Calypso was glad that it only affected him, and then felt terribly guilty because that was an awful thing to think seeing as his dad was friends with parents and was her godfather.
So, that thing didn't really work out well. The whole 'If I die, you take care of my children' because he was dead. Her godfather was dead, James Potter was dead, but at least her godmother was alive. Andromeda Tonks was still living and had a great life at that. They were in fact cousins but there was no woman who Remelda trusted more with the life of her daughter than Nadia, but her Aunt Nadia was already raising two children and (probably) wasn't stable enough for a third.
She was sitting on the bench sandwiched between a second year and Angelina, Cho and Birdie having joined their own house. They watched the little first years be sorted, looking at the frightened faces as they looked relieved as they joined whatever house they now belonged to. Calypso half-heartedly clapped whenever the hat roared Gryffindor, but she was much too exhausted to do much else. All she wanted was to eat and go to sleep, forgetting her usual want to run around and re-explore the castle on the first night back. No, that would have to wait until the fatigue of the full moon wore off.
And, with that, Calypso thought about her own sorting. It had been nerve-wracking, knowing only two things; Slytherins weren't evil, but they definitely weren't what you wanted to be. Her mother was living proof that not all of them were scums of the earth, but she was also proof of what growing up with an all Slytherin family looked like. Yet, she was told from that same mum that Slytherin was not a house she wanted to be in. Remelda could never speak of her time at Hogwarts before her sixth year, and even then there were parts left out, her seventh year seeming not to exist either. As a child, Calypso pestered her endlessly because she wanted to know how her parents met, then she wanted to know about her Uncle Pads and Uncle Regulus.
Remelda would softly smile, give a brief description of how they stuck together – like the Three Musketeers – until Sirius was disowned. She would grow quiet, only mentioning how after the death of Regulus she forgave him. That was it. She spoke only the bare minimum and said nothing more, but her father always had stories. Calypso loved just sitting on his lap as he recounted the many tales he had with Sirius, James, and Peter (that rat!) when he was in school. He would go through it all, the different pranks and how he had dated Aunt Nadia briefly but if she asked about after he finished school, when she was an infant and toddler, he too would grow quiet.
