Title: Calli
Chapter: Ten Years Onward
Disclaimer: Ahhhhhhhh! Bad Lawyers! Bad Lawyers! Get away!!!!!!!! (Is bodily picked up and thrown into Azkaban.) Nooooooooooo! They're not mine, I tell you! Not mine! (Notices that she got thrown into the same cell as Draco.) Ummmmm... Never mind. Just leave me in here! Thank you!
Rating: PG-13
A/N Whee... Here we go. This chapter contains the ever-sexy Draco Malfoy, a rather flustered Ginny, I'm-going-to-go-to-Hogwarts-and-create-royal-havoc Calliope, and other miscellaneous uninvited insane people.
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Ginny Weasley cursed her brother for what was possibly the thousandth time as she stepped into the forbidding halls of Azkaban. She and Percy were in constant fights, and detested each other. This meant that every time Percy visited The Burrow he ate charcoal and was ridiculed excessively, (Fred and George helped her in that.) but it also meant that Ginny got to do the Azkaban 'health-checks'. Life isn't any fun when your loathed older brother is the Minister of Magic.
She kept her eyes focused straight ahead of her, trying to avoid seeing the decrepit bundles of flesh, hair, and grime. She wasn't to be let out of this disgusting prison for four hours. (The previous 'health-checkers' had taken one glance and called it sanitary just to get out of there. No such luck was bestowed upon Ginny.) She wasn't about to go down to the basement levels-nobody but convicts and Dementors had dared to venture down there for several decades. People often said that the floors were coated in dried blood and shattered bone down there.
After reaching the third floor, which was reserved for those with life-sentences but weren't insane enough to be stuffed in the basement levels, Ginny sat down and propped her chin in her hands. She tried not to look at any of the cells too long. One of the gray bundles slightly to her left moved. The thing unfolded itself and looked at her.
It was a man. She guessed he was probably around her age, but she couldn't be sure. A waist-long mane of matted once blond hair hung like a filthy cloak around him. The man walked over and sat down in front of the bars that separated them.
He smiled. "Thank god. It's been ten years down here with bloody little to do, and it's gotten rather boring since Ana went insane three years ago. You are sane, aren't you?"
She stared at him. In the four years she had been doing 'health-checks', she had never once encountered anybody sane. The man, if not rather strange, was definitely sane. His gray eyes looked solemnly back at her from underneath near-invisible blond eyebrows. They were perhaps the only part of him that looked alive-his skin seemed to be stretched across his bones tight enough to drum on.
She remembered his question and decided to answer him. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. Most of my family insists that I belong in St. Mungo's, but I'm still capable of relatively coherent conversation. What did you do to get in here, anyway?"
"Ahh... I killed seven people. Well, truthfully, only six were murders. The seventh-Cho Chang-just stumbled into the manticore pen during feeding time. Not my fault, you know. Stupid thing to do, but I suppose she felt it her duty to rescue her friend. Wouldn't have done much anyway-he was already being digested by the time she arrived, but it was a nice notion." Half-dead told her nonchalantly.
Ginny blinked several times in a row. "You're Draco Malfoy! You murdered all those people! You killed Justin and Hanna and Lisa and Sylvia and Calyx and Martin and Cho!" It wasn't that surprising, actually. She met a famous criminal in Azkaban-nothing too unusual about that.
He nodded glumly. "I already told you that Cho was a mistake. Justin and Hanna were trying to kill my father, so I had to step in. Lisa actually did kill my father, so that was for revenge. Sylvia was because she knew about the others and I couldn't let myself be caught-not to mention that she killed my mother and nailed her to the front gates. Sylvia always was rather morbid, even for a Slytherin. Calyx and Martin were a married couple who nearly killed my daughter and myself. I believe that nails all of them. Most of them, as you can see, were in self defense or revenge."
Ginny might have punched him right then if he had not been a convict and out of her reach.
"There are other ways to defend yourself besides murder, you bastard. Your parents deserved their deaths-they killed five times the people you did! Calyx never went near your daughter, she never would have done anything so horrid as to harm a child. Calyx was my best friend and you killed her." Her voice reached a hysterical pitch, and she wrapped her hands around the bars. "You killed her, you bastard! You killed her! She's dead because of you, you son of a bitch! And you're still alive!"
His left hand shot though the opening in the bars and slapped her hard. The right hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her closer to him. For one horrible moment she thought he was going to strangle her through the bars. But he did nothing.
"Calyx did come near my daughter, if you define holding a knife at her throat 'near'. My daughter was three months old and your 'saintly friend' was going to murder her in cold blood. If Calyx could beat me in a fair duel, I would die without remorse. Instead the angel decided to murder my child while sending her lovely husband up to assassinate me in my sleep. Such a person does not deserve to live, friend or no." He hissed back toward her tear-stricken face.
"You don't deserve to live!" She screamed.
His hands cupped around her face. "Quite possibly. But I have never killed or even harmed a child. I haven't even hurt anyone who has not hurt me. Tell me, Ms. Weasley, why I have not killed you? I would be perfectly capable of doing so, with you so close. Nobody could hear you scream and I might not even be blamed, with so many lunatics around. Even if I was, nothing could get much worse than this. You have insulted me greatly, so why haven't I killed you?"
She stared back at him for a moment, then jerked herself out of his gentle grasp. "I don't know." She whispered, and fled.
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Leslie shifted uneasily. She had been the first occupant of the compartment-which, incidentally, was the largest one on the train-but wasn't any longer. Little by little, others had trickled in. She was currently sharing her space with six others, but there was plenty of room for more intrusive idiots. A second year Slytherin, Leslie was not one of the most cheerful or agreeable people.
The compartment door slid open yet again, exposing a rather strange girl. The child was extremely short-probably only four-foot-eight. She had thick light blond hair that hung in ragged un-brushed strands to her shoulders, and her robes looked like they had been through Hell and back. Her face was narrow and angular. Her nose was as thin and straight as a knife blade, but rather large for the rest of her features. Her slate gray eyes were nearly hidden by unruly bangs.
The girl, who looked no more than nine or possibly ten, smiled at the occupants of the compartment and sat down. After a silent moment in which everyone stared at her, she stood up again. "My name is Calliope Artemis Parkinson-Malfoy, I'm a first year, and I want to get into Slytherin. No, I'm not so poor that I can't afford decent robes-I like them this way. Now, if you would all so kindly mind your own bloody business and quit staring, I might actually be able to think." The midget (as Leslie had begun to think of her) snapped and sat down. She immediately leaned her head against the window and appeared to fall asleep.
Leslie smiled. Rumors were going to spread like wildfire now. The girl had just openly admitted that she was a Malfoy-a condemned name. One of the other girls had opened her mouth to comment on Calliope's proclamation, but Leslie cut her short.
"Hello Calliope. Welcome to our humble, and temporary, abode. Would anybody else be so kind as to introduce themselves? I'm afraid I don't recognize any of you. I'm Leslie Nott, by the way." She said sweetly.
The girl Leslie had interrupted immediately stood up. She had long mahogany-dark hair, and enormous dark blue eyes. "My name," she said, "is Sara Weasley. I hope to be in Gryffindor." Abruptly, she sat down again.
The other introductions came speedily, but aside from Calliope and Sara, not many knew what houses they wanted to be in. The dark haired boy that looked somewhat like an elf was known as Alex Thomas. (No relation to the famous Dean Thomas, who played Keeper for the Ballycastle Bats.) A tall, rather plump blond introduced herself as Amelia Boot. Two blond boys announced themselves as Dirk and Derek Newman, third year Ravenclaws. The last, a shy, dark-haired girl with strikingly pale skin admitted herself to be Madeline Sinclair.
Brief greetings circulated, but were immediately drowned out by hushed murmurs between Amelia and the twins. Amelia was convinced that Calliope was about to leap up and murder them all as soon as she woke. The twins argued that the notion was ridiculous-the Malfoys were far too clever for that. The tiny first year was far more likely to poison their pumpkin juice or dump arsenic into the lake.
Amelia's stage-whisper carried to every person in the compartment. "I hear the father's got a life-sentence in Azkaban for seven murders. I hear two people, Calyx and Martin Jackson, recognized the daughter's potential evil and tried to do away with her before she could do any real damage. They say the girl-only three months old-murdered the Jacksons as soon as they stepped onto the grounds. Everyone says that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named branded the daughter from birth, so she would always be loyal to him. And the girl's name was... Calliope!"
A chocolate frog flew through the air, missed Amelia completely, and landed with a plop in Alexander's lap. Ignoring the dark-haired boy, Amelia swiveled to glare at Leslie, who had her hands clasped behind her back and was whistling, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"Whatever did you do that for?" Amelia asked, eyes wide. She looked as if she was about to cry.
Leslie smirked. "Because I'm a nasty Death-Eating Slytherin who just wants to rip your esophagus out. And I don't appreciate you insulting a sleeping first-year."
"You horrible person! You-Know-Who supporter!" Amelia accused, her fists shaking..
"Bitch."
"Oooooh! I could just spit! I didn't ever do anything to you!" The girl wailed.
"So why don't you? Spit, I mean. Maybe we'd get lucky and you'd regurgitate a vital organ." Leslie sneered and slapped the self-righteous blond as hard as she could.
"Cat Fight!" Derek-or was it Dirk?-crowed.
"I got Hermione Granger!" Alexander commented, and made everyone turn to look at him. "From the chocolate frogs-I haven't gotten her yet."
Madeline buried her head in her hands, but parted her fingers just enough so that she could see who was winning.
Sara sighed and brought her book up to her face again, shielding her from the fight.
Calliope continued to sleep.
Amelia launched herself at Leslie, kicking and screaming.
The two battling females fell to the floor in a screaming frenzy. Leslie had Amelia's wrist-thick braid clutched in one hand and was pummeling the girl with the other. Amelia, however, was utilizing her long nails to claw at Leslie's unprotected face and neck. Both kicked and punched at regular intervals.
The result came out with Amelia pinning Leslie to the ground. The blond hadn't won completely yet, though. Leslie still had Amelia's braid clamped in her fist and showed no signs of letting go.
Abruptly, Amelia went limp against Leslie, unconscious. The Slytherin brunette rolled out from underneath her former enemy's sleeping form and straightened. She half expected Calliope to be standing over her twirling her wand or the like. She wasn't. In fact, Calliope was still sleeping with her cheek pressed up against the window. Madeline, however, was holding her wand. Seeing her gaze, the timid girl blushed.
"D-don't hurt her any more or I'll st-stun you too. I will! I don't really want to see you fight. I d-d-don't like it when p-people fight." The dark girl was half-sobbing. Leslie, as callous as she was, almost felt sympathetic for the girl. Something had to have happened to make her that nervous. Her sympathy, however, did not extend to the point of letting someone else boss her around.
"Shut up. You can stuff you wand where the sun doesn't shine for all I care, but get it out of my sight and sit down." She snarled and collapsed back into her seat.
Across from her, Calliope opened her eyes. "Was that entire spectacle just for my honor? My... I think I've made friends already. Amazing what you can accomplish by falling asleep at the right time, you know. By the way-thank you Leslie, Madeline, and even Sara and Alexander to a certain extent, I suppose. Oh, and please call me Calli."
Nobody said anything for a moment. The silence was broken when Alexander gave her a small smile, looking up from where he was comparing chocolate frog cards with Dirk and Derek. "Oh, I didn't do anything. And my name's Alex, Calli."
The girl smiled and closed her eyes again.
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Ginny's fist came crashing down on the desk. "I don't know why and I don't know how, but he's perfectly sane."
Percy barely blinked. "Yes, your point being?"
"Do you, by any chance, remember Sirius Black? The man who was convicted on-what was it? Thirteen counts of murder? But managed to stay sane in Azkaban because he knew he was innocent? Mind you, I'm not saying Malfoy is innocent, but... Something is different with him, different from the other criminals in there. You know you've had me on health checks for four years, and I have yet to come across someone who can even say one thing, let alone hold a coherent conversation. Do you remember what your predecessor, Fudge, said? Something about Sirius being unusually coherent? Something about Mr. Black asking for the newspaper?" Ginny ranted. She was half-hysterical from her visit to Azkaban and Percy wasn't helping matters.
"That does not prove anything. It is completely possible that he is so delusional that he believes in his own innocence or some such other folly. Draco Malfoy is not innocent. He has been tested with veritserum and-both off and on the potion-admitted to being completely guilty. Well, actually, he denied that the murder of Cho Chang was his fault, but he admitted fully to the other six.
"Tell me, dear sister, do you wish us to release a convicted murderer into our midst? I suppose you would like us to restore his titles and manor to him as well? Really, sometimes I wonder how you managed to pass seventh year with such reasoning." Her elder brother scoffed.
"For your information, I was Head Girl, idiot! If you would get down off your bloody mental throne for a millisecond, you might be able to see somewhere past your nose!" Ginny ranted uncontrollably. "What the hell happened to his manor and money, anyway?" she added out of curiosity.
"I wouldn't advise insulting your superiors in such a manor, Virginia. There's always the chance that you might get fired." Percy remarked snidely. Ginny had an overwhelming urge to hit him hard enough to break his gold-rimmed spectacles. "And, to answer you question, they will go to his daughter when she comes of age."
Ginny blinked several times. Daughter? Oh, of course. Malfoy had mentioned her, she just had been so distracted with everything else he had said. "He has a wife then?" she asked weakly.
"Oh no. Though I wouldn't recommend getting married right away. The convicted criminal's wife might not be very good for your rather questionable reputation." Her brother sneered. "He divorced Pansy Parkinson barely a month after the child was born. She let him keep the girl." He shuffled a few papers around on his desk, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "You must be going. I have an appointment with Mrs. Susan Finnigan in half an hour. Shoo."
Ginny had to restrain herself from flinging the finely crafted china inkpot on the desk at her brother. She stopped herself by mentally repeating over and over to herself 'That was a gift from the Canadian Minister of Magic and costs a few hundred dollars. I will not throw it at him... I can't afford it.' She gave Percy a brisk nod, turned, and slammed the door behind as she stormed out of the office.
Her brother smiled and leaned back in his chair. Annoying Ginny was one of his favorite pastimes.
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"Andrews, Mathew!" A rather ancient Professor McGonagall bellowed at a sandy-haired youth. The boy was sorted into Gryffindor and the esteemed Professor glanced at her list again before yelling "Boot, Amelia!" Who was sorted into Hufflepuff. Calli privately thought that it served the bratty little first-year right.
After roughly twenty more minutes of endless names, the Transfiguration teacher arrived at
"Malfoy, Calliope!" The Purebloods and half-bloods of the room turned to look at her. After giving the entire room a rather nasty glare, she walked up. Calli knew that she would get into Slytherin, but she was no less anxious.
The rather decrepit hat dropped over her mop of white-blond hair and fell to her shoulders. A few easily amused people laughed at the sight of the tiny girl engulfed by the tattered hat. Calli would have glared again, but it wouldn't have done much good with the hat effectively blindfolding her.
'Ahh... A Malfoy. I have not seen a Malfoy in quite a while. Oh my. A Parkinson too, eh? But you take after your father, I believe. If your mother hadn't been quite so viscous, I might have put her in Hufflepuff. But your father was different. An old style Slytherin, I'd say. Refreshing after all these years of violent idiots that I have to shove in the house. A disgrace to the noble line of Slytherins! But one can't help it, can one?'
"Shut up about my parents and tell me the house already." Calli snapped at the hat. She didn't want to hear about how the Slytherin line was deteriorating-she knew that. Her mother and step-father were proof of this fact.
'All right, all right.' The hat grumbled. 'No need to get testy. It's very clear where you belong, you know. But I must tell you-you are ambitious and have a sarcastic nature. You feed on the humiliation of your enemies and will do anything to get the right results. You firmly believe that 'the ends justify the means' and uphold it. It is clear that you belong in SLYTHERIN'.
As Calli walked to her house among quiet applause, she heard Amelia half-shout, "I told you so, Sara! Told you, told you, told you! She did get into Slytherin! HA! I was right and you were-"
From somewhere near the end of the line Sara bellowed, "Shut up you stupid git! I never said she wouldn't! I just said she wasn't evil!"
"Slytherin and evil are synonymous. Every fool knows that." A Gryffindor yelled.
Several Slytherins stood up, but Leslie had already leaped into the middle of the floor. "You are absolutely right! Every fool does know that, but some people are wise enough to know the difference. Evidently, Eric Rod, you are a fool!"
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" The Professor's voice could be heard throughout the hall. "Everyone will sit down and be quiet or the lot of you will be cleaning the school. Sit down, Miss Nott, Miss Boot, and Mr. Rod. Get back in line Miss Weasley. Go to your table, Miss Malfoy."
The hall complied and the Professor went back to the list. The next person that Calli recognized took some time in getting up to the stool when her name was called. "Sinclair, Madeline!" ("GRYFFINDOR!") "Thomas, Alexander!" (SLYTHERIN!") and "Weasley, Sara!" (...SLYTHERIN!)
After a brief period in which the students were allowed to stuff themselves silly, everybody packed up and went to bed.
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Pronunciation guide: Calliope: Cal-eye-oh-pee
A/N Hoped you liked it. I think this is one of my better works-and certainly my longest so far...
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Draco and Ginny belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros and various other corporations. They are being used here without permission and/or affiliation with the above. None of the authors listed here make any profit from these stories.