Callisto

13

She felt weak passing through the castle doors, as if everybody would waiting to jeer. But there was nobody there. They were all still in the Great Hall.

Her friends shepherded her to the bathroom, where she stood of the big mirror. She sniffed, looking at herself in the glass as she blew her nose. Her eyes were red and sore from crying, her makeup streaked like clown makeup. Her hair was loose, and the bottom of her dress was muddy and ripped, her shoes ruined with grass and mud, soaked with snow.

"We can fix that," Louisa said gently. "Don't worry."

She cried again at how kind they were being, and how gentle, Louisa fixing her her dress and shoes, while Sarafina fixed her hair and Adele took off her makeup and reapplied it.

"Don't cry," she said gently. "You'll wash it all off."

"Sorry," she sniffed. "I – I don't know how to thank you all."

"Doesn't matter. How's the dress, Lou?"

"Almost done."

Sarafina's fingers in her hair were quick and skilled, deftly tucking and fixing and pointing her wand so it stayed up. Her shoes were still off, and Callisto could see that her tights had been torn when she'd run after her.

Soon they were all finished and they stood back to admire their handiwork, then turned to each other. Callisto fixed Louisa's hair, Sarafina put on her shoes, Adele did a quick brush up on her makeup, and then Sarafina turned to her.

"Honestly," she said. "Your hair is like a rat's nest."

And then she kissed her. Adele responded back so enthusiastically that she almost lifted Sarafina off her feet.

"Um," Louisa said weakly. "Not that I don't support you and all, but is now the time, guys?"

They broke apart, and Adele, pink cheeked said, "Heat of the moment. Now or never, you know? Now let's go!"

The students had begun to drift off to bed. Some of them stared as Callisto and the others came out into the Great Hall, and some whispered, but the others linked arms with her and she stood tall. When they entered the Great Hall, students were clustered in groups, talking, teachers muttering. Dumbledore was nowhere in sight, and nor was Montague, Professor McGonagall's lips were so thin they were practically invisible. Silence fell again when they walked through the doors, and Jaron, who was nursing a bleeding nose, said thickly, "I'm not gay."

"I know," she said softly.

"No you don't. I never even liked you anyway. You're disgusting."

Callisto was shaking, but they slipped past, and Sarafina took the opportunity to stamp down on his foot with her killer heels. Hard.

He yelped with pain as she innocently stepped forward, and Draco came out of the crowd.

"You're okay?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Okay," she repeated. "I'm....I'm great, actually."

And it was true. Somewhere when she hadn't noticed, her heart had soared. The fear was still there, but smaller, dwarfed by the immense relief and freedom that rose beside it.

"It was my fault," he said, sounding angry with himself. "When we were talking – I saw him on the stairs, when I was going to bed, I thought he was just getting something –"

"It doesn't matter, Draco," she said gently. "I promise."

Tadhg pushed his way towards them, relief on his tanned face.

He shook her hand excitedly. "Bloody brilliant," he kept saying. "Brilliant! Well done."

Callisto was light headed with amazement.

There was a lot happening in the next few days. Charles Bulstrode came up to her, avoiding her eyes, and offered an apology. She accepted it, but there was no way they could be friends again, not now. It was too late. And on the day after Boxing Day, all Callisto was called to Dumbledore's office. When she walked through the door, Callisto saw Montague, sitting sullenly in a chair, and two people who must have been his parents. They looked oddly normal, a plump lady with dyed blonde hair a tall balding man. Montague had not been seen in school since the incident, and several boys in his dormitory had reported that all of his things had been cleared. Her own parents were sitting opposite them, her mother biting hard on her lip, her father leaning on his cane. They both stood up when she entered, and her mother cried out, "Oh Callisto!"

Callisto flew into her arms, not caring what age she was or who was watching. She breathed in the musky scent of her mother's perfume, finding herself reassured by the smell, and when she pulled back, Narcissa blinked quickly, and as Callisto passed her father, he reached out and quickly squeezed her shoulder.

When Callisto sat, Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "I need to know exactly what has happened," he said. "The truth, please, Miss Black. Everything about Mr Montague, and anybody else who was involved. From this year, from all the other years. Begin when you are ready."

Callisto hesitated, that old fear rising in her, and then she realised that she had nothing to be afraid of. He was a sulking teenage boy, that was all, and her parents were here, and his parents, their headmaster. He could not hurt her anymore. So she opened her mouth, and she talked.