Calliope sunk down into a chair at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. George, Ginny and Sirius wanted to hear the entire story from Harry, who fumbled through it clumsily, as Fred and Ron silently looked on. 

Calliope closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her forehead, trying desperately to clear her mind so that she could give the Weasleys news about their father's condition.

After Harry had explained what he had seen, all eyes turned to Calliope, who had not yet moved or opened her eyes, as she was too focused on the whispers in her head.

"Callie is dad alive?" George demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he sounded on the edge of tears. Calliope didn't move, she didn't even seem to hear what George had said.

Ginny made forward to shake Calliope and demand that she give them answers, but Fred stopped her.

"She'll tell us when she knows something," he said, his eyes fixed on Calliope, unable to decipher what she was feeling.

Ginny fell back into a seat, pulling her knees up to her chest. Harry, Ron and George all followed suit, sitting themselves down in seats and looking forlorn. 

"Let's all have a drink while we're waiting," suggested Sirius, "Accio Butterbeer!" Eight Butterbeers zoomed out of the pantry and came to rest in the centre of the table.

Around ten minutes later Calliope opened her eyes. This small movement drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"He's alive," Calliope said decisively. Not wanting to tell any of the Weasleys how close to death their father was in that moment.

"I'm sure that Molly will be here as soon as she can," Sirius told the Weasleys reassuringly, "drink up." He distributed the untouched butterbeers amongst the group. 

"Sirius, can I speak to you outside?" Calliope asked, "please?"

Sirius gave a small nod, and the two left the room, moving up the stairs and into a small sitting room off of the ground floor hall that looked scarcely used.

"Look, Sirius, I know you don't like me-"

"I don't-"

"Let me finish. I know you don't like me, but this isn't about me, this is about Arthur. Where was he tonight?" Calliope demanded, "if I know where he was then maybe I can get a better handle on how badly injured he was!"

"Calliope I can't-"

"You can," said Calliope, "I know more than most of them, I can't help it, I know about the weapon and why it needs to be protected, I know that if Voldemort gets it then it will be catastrophic. So fill in a blank, where was Arthur and what was he doing?"

"Arthur was in the ministry," Sirius sighed, "he was guarding the weapon, which if you know as much as you say you do then you'll know that it's in the department of mysteries."

Calliope stared at Sirius for a moment, "I didn't know any of that," she said eventually, "the weapon is in the ministry?"

"Yes, where did you think it was?"

"Well I was at Hogwarts, so I assumed..."

"Wait, did you think that you were the weapon?" Sirius asked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"You said it was something dangerous that Voldemort didn't have last time, something worse than the killing curse," Calliope replied, "I fit that description."

"You're right, Voldemort does want you, but this weapon is more important." Sirius sat down on the dusty sofa in the centre of the room, "do you remember what the question Voldemort asked you all of last year was? The one that you and Fred told Dumbledore about?"

"Yes, of course, I do," Calliope frowned, "what is in store for him and Harry?"

"As far as Voldemort is concerned this weapon will answer that question that even you could not."

"Does it answer the question?"

"I don't know, nobody does. Maybe Dumbledore..." Sirius trailed off, "is Arthur badly hurt?"

"He's almost dead," confessed Calliope, "that's the only reason I can sense it, I can't feel injuries, only ones that are bad enough to kill the person."

Sirius sighed and shook his head, "Merlin I hope he's going to be okay."

They fell into silence again, it was the kind of awkward silence that falls upon a group of distant relatives who have met just a few times and can't remember each other's names.

"Calliope," Sirius said after quite a long time, "sit down."

Calliope did so, seating herself on a dusty armchair across from Sirius' sofa, slightly confused at this request.

"I don't not like you," he told her once she was seated, "I just don't know you, and that's why you coming outright and telling me I was going to die made me so..." he struggled to find the right word.

"Withdrawn?" Calliope suggested.

"Exactly," Sirius jumped on the word, "I feel as if I should know you, and I feel as though I have betrayed your father in not getting to know you. It was easy for me to get to know Harry, he is so much like James and he has no one, he was looking for a relationship, but you hardly seem to need the people you have, so I thought I'd save you the trouble of getting to know me..." Sirius trailed off again.

"It's a banshee trait," Calliope confessed, "I'm terrified of it actually. Banshees don't feel family attachments or even really understand the whole concept of love. I'm terrified that one day I'll wake up and not care about my Grandpa, or Natalie, or even my Papa!"

Sirius seemed to realise something then. He stopped seeing Calliope as an all-knowing etherial being. He saw the sixteen-year-old daughter of one of his best friends who had been through more than most people went through in an entire lifetime. He saw a scared teenage girl, who had lost her father at age seven. He stopped seeing a banshee and he saw Calliope.