As Though She Were Mine

"Germaine, what are you doing down here? Go back to the flat," ordered Mrs. Mulpepper when she caught sight of Calliope by the apothecary's selection of different creatures' tails. She had just finished helping her customer at the counter (she'd called him Mr. Farley and asked how his daughter was. He'd thanked her for asking and said she was well, if not stressed from work. The Ministry is hectic, with all the changes going into place. This had piqued Calliope's interest, what types of changes? Were they little, insidious ones? Or big and scary like the ones at Hogwarts right now?).

Calliope glowered at the old woman. She hated being called Germaine. Aggie. Jane too— Even if technically that one was her (middle) name. However, the Mulpeppers seemed quite insistent on calling her by the names of grand-nieces in public. Why, she didn't really know. They just kept saying it was safer people didn't know she was Calliope. She was quite sure it was because they feared people would realize she was Calliope Snape. Sev may have only worked for the Mulpeppers a handful of years, but many of their customers were life-long and would likely recall this and make some sort of connection, good or bad. While many things were kept from her these days, Calliope had been told about her dad killing Albus Dumbledore after it happened. And about the Death-Eaters in the castle then too.

She had thought that was why she'd been sent away last spring, to be out of the castle when those horrible, awful things happened.

Yet afterward, neither Edie or Sev had come to bring her home (she hadn't been sure if she should be relieved or upset not to see her dad. He'd murdered Professor Dumbledore. A well-loved, respected man to many, but to her was a kind Great-Uncle figure who always had a sweet and encouraging word for her when she saw him and occasionally would spend an afternoon or two with her over the summer and winter holidays). None of her family had come to see her since September dawned either.

Over the summer, Eileen and Essie had visited a few times. Edie twice as well, once when Calliope caught a summer cold and another time with her sisters. There was also one visit late in the summer Essie had spent the night, which Calliope liked, but it'd left her frustrated too. When they went to bed and she tried to ask her questions about what had happened and was happening, Essie had kept all the secrets she knew tightly locked behind smiling teeth and deflections. Calliope had felt more like she was talking to Eileen or Edie and for Essie's evasiveness, she refused to say goodbye the next morning when her sister left.

Calliope regretted it now. She was feeling quite lonely without any of her family near and the scant letters she'd gotten weren't helping either. They were all so short and dull, talking about stupid things like what they'd eaten that day or some uninteresting fact learned in Ancient Runes. At least she could exchange letters regularly with them, she mused. With Darla in hiding, she'd only gotten to trade a couple of letters with her since last spring and each time she received one, had to ash right after instead of keeping it to read when she was missing her.

"Germaine!" Mrs. Mulpepper snapped again.

Calliope lowered her eyes to her toes. "I'm bored," she said.

The old woman sighed. "If you behave yourself and go back to the flat, this evening, once Uncle Eugene is back from the other apothecary for the day we may go to the bookstore and you can pick out something new to read. How does that sound, hm?"

That was another change, the Mulpeppers calling themselves Uncle Eugene and Aunt Maisie. Calliope actually quite liked it. She felt special being able to call them such familial names while her sisters and Darla still referred to them by Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper. "Okay," she agreed.

Calliope wasn't actually that excited by the offer of another book. She never much cared for reading. She liked being outside. Calliope had spent quite a lot of time in the herbology greenhouses when Professor Sprout was around or Sev could take her back at Hogwarts. She'd also visited with Hagrid frequently and enjoyed his varied beasts. Being here? In the middle of Knockturn? Never allowed outside on her own? It was torture. This meant even she had to acknowledge a trip to a bookstore was better than another evening staring at the fire in the Mulpepper's lounge room as they went over the accounts from the day.

"Good girl," praised Mrs. Mulpepper with a smile.

Calliope did her best to smile back before turning around and going to the stairs that led to the flat. Dragging her feet as she went up the steps, she tried her best to focus on the trip to the bookstore and not yet another afternoon alone in the silent flat. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and deliberated whether she should spend it sprawled across the lounge room sofa or in the rocking chair in her borrowed room. It took her all of a minute to decide on her room. At least from there she could watch the going-ons of Knockturn which sometimes proved to be interesting. Last week she was almost entirely sure she saw some illegal potion or potion ingredient be exchanged between two wizards in front of the Betting Shop.

Walking across the lounge and into the small, square room she now called hers, Calliope ran her fingers across the pink and purple afghan laid out on her bed next to the door. She then went to pull the rocking chair from the corner of the room opposite her bed and place it in front of the window next to her armoire. Once finished, she pushed back the heavy olive-colored linen curtains hiding the window to reveal the world below. For the longest while, she simply tipped herself backward and forward as she watched life play out in front of her. Knockturn was not quite as busy a place as Diagon Alley, but she still saw plenty of witches and wizards walk past her window. They dipped into shops across from and next to the apothecary, and more than once people would stop to chat or exchange things within her sight.

A particular witch in a fuschia robe grabbed Calliope's attention when she stepped out of the hat shop across the street and all but bumped into a very fat wizard. The two stepped aside and fell into what looked like a deep conversation. Essie cast a considering glance to the sketchbook she has piled on the little table in front of the window before dismissing it altogether. She had none of Eileen's talent nor her patience. Even with interesting studies like the witch and the wizard in front of her she knew her picture would only do them a fraction of the justice they deserved. Instead, she amused herself by imagining what it was they were talking about and how they knew each other. Perhaps they were old lovers from Hogwarts? Maybe the fat wizard was only in town for a short time and they were catching up. That was a romantic thought. Or perhaps her husband and he were brothers and the witch was busy trying to convince him to come to dinner. She frowned, finding it a less pleasing imaging. As the pair grew boring, and her daydreams lost their appeal, Calliope cast her gaze elsewhere.

For a moment, she looked above the hat shop and to its own flat. Her eyes quickly became fixed there when she caught sight of a face in one of its windows. Studying it as its owner stared down, observing the witch and wizard as she had done previously, Calliope realized it was the face of a child. One about her age too, from the looks of it. She couldn't make out much more, but their face was particularly wide and had an overgrown fringe. Standing up, she pressed herself to the window and tried to take in more details.

Unfortunately, there was none she could make out. At one point, the child lifted their face. Seizing her chance, Calliope waved frantically, hoping to get some kind of greeting in return. Instead of waving back at her, the other child's jaw dropped, creating what might have been an expression of surprise or terror before it disappeared altogether. Calliope continued to stand in front of her room's window for a long time, hoping they would return or appear outside in front of the hat shop. They never did. Sighing in defeat, she sat back in her chair and reached for the sketchbook. She may never be as good as Eileen, but it was still something to do to fill the hours until the Mulpeppers finished work.

-o-O-o-

Slowly, Calliope looked from Mrs. Mulpepper to Mr. Mulpepper as they ate dinner together. The two were eating in silence, as was typical for them Calliope had found. It seemed they treated the meal as a time to restore themselves after a day of interacting with customers and employees. She tried her best to not ruin their routine and be relatively quiet herself during dinner. However, today she just couldn't. What she saw from her window was the most interesting thing she had experienced in weeks and maybe, if she asked the right way, the Mulpeppers would introduce her to the child and she'd finally have someone to pass the time with.

Putting down her fork, she asked, "Does the hat shop owner across the street have a child my age?"

"Hagar?" said Mrs. Mulpepper, frowning. "No dear, she doesn't," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

Calliope felt the little bit of hope that had been growing in her chest all afternoon start to deflate. "I thought I saw the face of someone, maybe about my age, in a window of her flat from my room today," she admitted.

"Your mind must be playing tricks, Calliope," replied Mrs. Mulpepper in a sympathetic tone. "Hagar has lived there alone since her son Emmett moved away in, oh, '93? '94?" she said, looking at Mr. Mulpepper for confirmation who then nodded.

Calliope knew the Mulpeppers would know who lived in the flat better than she, but surely there could be another explanation other than her lonely mind getting the better of her. "She doesn't have nieces or nephews or anyone who might visit?" she pressed.

"No," Mr. Mulpepper said. "She was her father's, Mr. McHavelok's, only child."

Calliope pursed her lips and thought hard. "…A mate's?" she inquired after a pause. That could explain why the child would be looking out the window too, she thought. Calliope was willing to wager the hat shop owner's flat was no more interesting than the Mulpeppers.

Mrs. Mulpepper sighed. "Hagar Whittaker is a shrewd businesswoman and McHavelok's Wizarding Headgear has thrived more under her hand than it ever did her father's, but she is not…" she trailed off, an uncomfortable expression coming to settle on her features.

"She's sour, Calliope," Mr. Mulpepper said, picking up where his wife left off. His gaze was trained on hers as he explained, "Hagar does not have any close mates and isn't interested in them. Believe me, dear girl, we've tried a few times in the decade and a half she has been living here to get to know her, but she has always turned her nose up at offers of tea or just friendly small talk." He looked away then, a distant, but fond note coming to his tone as he said, "Her son, though, I liked him. Reminded me a bit of his grandfather, the last Mchavelok. Old Euan would sell us hats at a discount and we would do the same with pre-made potions." Waving his fork in the air for emphasis, Mr. Mulpepper told Calliope, "He knew how to be neighborly. His grandson Emmett was like that. He would come in now and then during his breaks, ask how business was, and restock his potions kit for school through us."

Calliope seized this new information and began to try and find a new theory to explain the face in the window. A son who graduated almost five years ago was too young to have a child around her age, but he could have a mate or girlfriend with a sibling her age. The girlfriend or mate could have brought them along when visiting with Emmett and his mother. "Emmett Whittaker… He might have been in Darla's year or the one before, huh?" she mused.

"Yes, I suppose he would have been," agreed Mrs. Mulpepper.

"Does he come home often?" she pressed. "Maybe with a girlfriend and her little sibling?"

"I haven't seen him once in Knockturn since he came of age," answered Mr. Mulpepper, looking a little put-out. "I reckon his mother's disposition doesn't encourage visits," he said.

Calliope felt the last of her hope shatter. It seemed there really was no possibility there could have been another child in the hat maker's flat. She hated it, but it seemed Calliope had to concede to the Mulpeppers. "I guess it was a trick of my eyes," she said with a small, disappointed sigh.

"Unfortunately, dear girl," Mr. Mulpepper replied, reaching across the table to give her arm a comforting squeeze.

"Now, finish your turnips and we can go to the bookstore," said Mrs. Mulpepper once her husband went back to his own dinner.

Calliope picked up her fork. "Yes, Aunt Maisie," she grumbled.

A new addition for the Family Branches series :) Just to make sure everything is clear, this story will focus on Calliope. As you've probably gathered already, it's set a short time after This Song, It Spells Disaster.

Thank you for reading!