The first part of the Callie Was Finally Home – Harry Potter Fan Fiction written by myself.
She was used to waking up without an alarm. After all, she was now into her third year at Hogwarts, and the positioning of the Ravenclaw tower allowed both the sun and the moonlight to gingerly creep through the gaps of the navy curtains of the four-poster bed. It was Wednesday. Callie didn’t hate Wednesdays half as much as her former students; to them, Wednesday was the middle of the week, a reminder that they would suffer another three days of lessons before they were able to bask in the winter sun against the Black Lake, eating their body-weight in pumpkin pasties and Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans.
No, Callie didn’t feel this way at all. Sure, she enjoyed the weekend’s as much as anybody else. And this weekend, she was planning on visiting Hogsmeade Village for the first time with her friends. Callie’s great-grandmother (also a witch) had given her a few extra sickles this year (wizarding money) so that she could enjoy the delights of being a third-year in a village full of magic for the first time – excluding Diagon Alley which was a necessity at the beginning of every year, for collecting school supplies. Callie had been to Diagon Alley just last week, collecting the list of supplies she would require for her return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Today’s timetable consisted of double Transfiguration (9am-11am), Potions (12pm-1pm), Flying Practice (2pm-4pm) and Herbology (4:30pm-5:30pm). Two of the lessons on Callie’s timetable today would challenge her: Potions and Flying Practice. Professor Snape, the current potions master was the sole reason for which Callie would struggle in the afternoon lesson. Callie was intelligent, she strived for the thirst of knowledge, for the love of reading (she had already finished two of the bookshelf’s in the Library) and her memory was impeccable. But ever since she stuck up for Harry Potter during one of Snape’s Potion’s lesson during her first-year, in which the long black-haired Professor wrongly corrected Harry Potter, and therefore Callie corrected her Professor – he immediately took a dislike to her, and has attempted to ask her a near impossible question every lesson since. Questions which Callie could only discover from books in the Restricted Section of the Library, which were forbidden to students without genuine proof of approval from one of their teachers.
Flying was something which unfortunately couldn’t be taught by books. Although, Callie did attempt to learn how to fly with Quidditch of the Ages and 101 Ways to Fly – to no avail. Most Hogwarts students had mastered the basics of flying by second-year. Struggling to fly more than ten metres without dangling off the edge of your broomstick in your third-year was embarrassing, and Callie knew first-hand about that. Madame Hooch was somewhat accustomed to Callie’s clumsiness, and had eventually given up trying to both encourage and persuade the third-year, with the promise of joining the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, if only she could actually stay sat on her broom. In the air.
It was time for Callie to get changed into her robes. Callie always awoke with a thrill dancing down her spine, in excitement of the new things which she would learn today, despite the aforementioned lessons which would be a challenge in one way or another to her. Transfiguration was always a good lesson; she managed with slick ease to transform a bookmark into a micro pig in the first lesson of the September term last week and had been awarded twenty house points for Ravenclaw. Herbology was another lesson which came somewhat natural to Callie. Although it took her a while to get used to the atrocious smell of some of the plants, her memory served her well in remembering the names and uses of all the plants, and she came top of the class last year, beating even Hermione Granger, Gryffindor’s ‘know it all’. But Callie and Hermione were as good friends as Callie was to her Ravenclaw’s; Nehemia, Laurie and Amyrys. Once or twice a week, Callie and Hermione would eat their lunch together and discuss a new book they had been reading, and do their homework together. Not that they required one anothers help – they were perfectly capable of listing the fifty-five key dates of the Goblin Rebellion in Bulgaria by themselves, for the Professor of History of Magic, Professor Binns.
Today was Wednesday. Today would be a good day. Callie, daughter of a muggle-born mother and father, had worked so hard in her first-year to prove her worth as not only a Ravenclaw, or even a student of Hogwarts, but as a witch. So, today, she would answer Professor Snape’s question with confidence. She would get on that broomstick and try with all of her might to not fall off. And if she did, she would get right back on. She would read and fall deep in love with another book.
Up until three years ago, when Callie Hawkthorne recieved a letter from Albus Dumbledore, informing her that she would start at the age of eleven, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she had been a perfectly normal, average girl with parents who loved her. But who didn’t love the idea of a witch in the family. A girl who got picked last in sports day. A girl who couldn’t properly afford books. A girl who had no friends. But now, here, at Hogwarts. Callie was finally home.
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