TWO
' the start of something '

☾⋆₊✧

SEPTEMBER
1993

THE letter finally mattered.

Callie had indeed received it once she'd turned eleven; though Dad didn't think it was a good idea to go away at that time. She was 99% sure it was because he couldn't live without her. As much as she did want to go to the school, Callie knew she shouldn't. The concern he didn't express but which tended to be written all over his face had made her reconsider any possibility of it happening.

The next year, after she turned twelve, she'd received it once more. The consensus was still the same: Calista was not leaving Yorkshire. She hadn't bothered to look at the letter, and Remus quickly but sadly threw it in the fire.

But now, (third time's a damn charm), she was finally able to appreciate it.

Before leaving that early July afternoon, Dumbledore had pulled the letter from within his cloak, a creamy off-white paper that felt heavier than it looked. It was sealed with red, the Hogwarts emblem pressed into the middle— the lion, serpent, raven, and badger all coiling around the letter H. Even though she'd seen it countless times before in her books, it was different now that it actually meant something.

Dear Miss Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The biggest smile spread across Callie's face the moment she read the letter. She threw her arms in the air with a squeal of joy, and began twirling around the small living room. The hem of her jumper flared with each turn, her bare feet sliding across the worn wooden floor.

Remus stood in the doorway, watching with an expression that flickered between joy and quiet worry. But when he saw the way her happiness radiated from every inch of her, he didn't need to force a smile— it came easily, without thought. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they'd been granted a rare gift, untouched by the burdens that usually weighed them down.

Callie's laughter filled the room, bright and wild, until the sudden burst of energy caught up with her. She stopped mid-twirl, pressing a hand to her chest as a rough cough escaped her. Then another. And another. Her body hunched forward with the force of it, each cough sharp and relentless.

Remus was at her side in an instant, steady hands finding her back and shoulders, rubbing slow circles with a calm familiarity. "Easy, love," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Breathe, Callie. Just breathe."

She clutched at his sleeve as the coughing fit wracked through her thin frame. He could feel the tremor in her small body, the exhaustion catching up to her too fast. The fit didn't last long, but it was long enough to remind him of the fragility always lurking beneath her joy.

When the worst of it passed, Callie straightened slowly, her breath hitching as she recovered. She looked up at him with bright, watery eyes— and still, unbelievably, a beaming smile stretched across her face.

"I'm okay," she rasped, before throwing herself into his arms.

Remus caught her easily, as if holding her was the most natural thing in the world. Her thin arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling him close, and he returned the embrace without hesitation. One arm circled her back, his hand pressing gently between her shoulder blades. Her head nestled against the familiar crook of his neck, the same way it had when she was small enough to sleep curled against his chest during restless nights.

His other hand drifted up to her tangled hair, smoothing it down with slow, comforting strokes. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a silent promise wrapped in warmth and care. "There's my girl," he whispered softly.

For a moment, they stood there, caught in the quiet between joy and fear, both holding on as if the world might shift beneath their feet at any moment.

"You're really going, you know," he said, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Hogwarts. It's happening."

She gave a small laugh, the sound muffled against his neck. "I know."

The rest of the summer felt like a dream, unreal, like Callie was not fully there because her mind was constantly screaming Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts! The school had plagued her brain, but for the better. Every moment she was with Dad, she was asking him about every little detail he could recall from his time there. The food, the classrooms, the architecture, professors— the food a few more times. He'd chuckle and recount from the best of his ability. The food was near never-ending and always delicious, the classrooms were spacious and warm, the castle was the most beautiful place he had ever seen, some professors were arses and some were lovely— and once again, the food was delicious.

He didn't express it, but the gleam he got in his hazel eyes when he talked about it told her he was more than thrilled to go back there.

She kept her letter safe in her room, hung up on the wall over her bed so she could look at it every night before she went to sleep.  Something exciting was finally happening. Something to look forward to.

Her head wasn't completely in fantasy land, though. There were other technical, more pressing matters that were present.

She'd be entering her third year, an equivalent standing to what she had already learnt from Dad, his most trustworthy friend and her own tutor Chiara Lobosca, as well as what she read on her own time. Dad still had all his textbooks from his time at Hogwarts, and the curriculum hadn't changed much over the last decade and a half. Most days she didn't actually have the privilege of practicing the magic, only when Chiara made her weekly visits up north. The Ministry of Magic didn't allow witches or wizards under the age of seventeen to practice magic outside of school, so when Chiara was there or if her father was home early, she could do as she pleased. This was mainly since they couldn't exactly detect the magic user; only that there was an amount of energy coming from that place. It had been the perfect solution. But Callie still wished she had a bit more freedom.

Though getting in trouble with the bloody Ministry was never good. Especially since they barely knew about her existence in the first place.

Oh yeah, they'd be screwed big time. The details the Ministry did know of her existence were both obscure and incomplete. Dad and Dumbledore had done well to conceal her identity in her thirteen years on Earth. Something about the fact that if her father, a werewolf, single parenting a secret child in extreme poverty was discovered, they'd never see each other again.

They also had to lie about the nature of their relationship. Callie would be keeping her last name, but she and Dad were supposed to pass as distant relatives— an explanation designed to keep questions and suspicions at bay.

Sometimes she felt like there was more to the story. Even so, she never probed. Dad knew what was best for her and she trusted him.

He and Chiara typically praised her magical abilities when they observed them. Of course they would, though, neither would ever say much different. Calista didn't pay much attention to grades or her skill level. She thought she did the best she could given the circumstances. The only thing that mattered when it came to magic was how she felt in the moment.

Even the most basic spells would cause her to slip away from the world, even for just a second, as she focused on the feelings within her. It was exhilarating, freeing. So much so that she felt devoid of any illness she'd ever contracted, nothing but peace washing over her.

She'd saved up enough after countless birthdays for her wand. Cedar wood with unicorn hair, ten-and-a-half inches, solid flexibility. Chiara had taken her to Ollivander's under the guise that she was one of the healer's patients at St. Mungos who had just turned eleven. The older wizard had been more than happy to help, finding her match almost right away.

It was her one true, proud possession. Now she would finally be free from the limitations of their home and situation.

As she tended to the garden, she ran through once again what house she might be sorted into. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw. Her two best guesses were Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Slytherin didn't seem to suit her, and she didn't think she was smart enough to be a Ravenclaw. She hoped she could follow in Dad's footsteps and become a Gryffindor.

Some nights she found herself thinking about what house her birth mother had been in. She rarely thought about the woman because she didn't feel the need to. Her dad was all who mattered. He always had been. She wished he'd talk about her more, though. He grew distant every time Callie brought her up. He hadn't even given her a first name. All she knew was that Dad had loved her very much, she'd died shortly after childbirth, and she'd given Callie those big, dark brown eyes. There were no pictures of her lying around the house, but Calista suspected her father at least had some that were hidden. If she was still here he might've been happier... but Callie didn't feel the same way. How could she long for someone she had never known?

As she picked a fresh tomato, Callie felt disappointed she would have to close the garden so early this year. It usually lasted until the end of September, giving her just enough time to harvest the last of the beans, carrots, and herbs she'd grown from scratch. She loved the rhythm of tending to it— watering each plant, pulling out stubborn weeds, and watching the fruits of her labor grow slowly day by day. It was one of the few things in her life she could control, where her body's limits didn't feel like such a burden. Leaving it behind, especially when the tomatoes were ripening so beautifully, made her chest ache. She was sure there would be lots of new things she would learn to love at Hogwarts, though.

She plucked another, wiping the red skin with her sleeve before holding it up to the light. The tomato glowed, warm and perfect in the soft evening sun. Callie turned it over in her hand, weighing it gently. It struck her how much care it had taken to grow something so small and simple. At Hogwarts, things would be bigger— brighter, more chaotic, full of magic and possibilities she couldn't yet imagine. But would she still find space for the quiet? For things like this, where patience and care were enough to make something whole?

She sighed and tucked the tomato into her basket, the ache in her chest still there but softer now. It would all change soon, but for now, she still had this. One more day, she thought. One more moment to hold onto. Then she reached for the next tomato.

☾⋆₊✧

The first of September had finally arrived.

Calista had only slept about four hours, with most of the night spent tossing and turning in bed. So when morning came, the Lupin girl felt heavier than she expected.

She sat on the edge of her bed, her packed trunk at her feet, staring at the familiar cracks in the plastered walls of their small home. Excitement and anxiety churned in equal measure, making her hands tremble slightly as she tightened the clasp on her traveling cloak. She had dreamed of this moment for days now— wondered what it would be like to stand on Platform 9¾, to climb aboard the train she'd only ever heard about. Yet now that it was here, her stomach twisted. What if Hogwarts was not as welcoming as everyone made it seem? What if the other students noticed her coughs, her pale skin, the moments when fatigue hit hard? They'd obviously notice her breathing tube. What if they whispered behind her back, the way others always had?

It had never been easy for Callie to make friends. She wasn't shy, but all the kids in the village ran away from her. They were also all muggles, meaning there was a part of her they'd never understand even if she had been a little more normal.

Nellie was her only friend out of them all, mainly because she had to be. Before Callie was old enough to spend the full moon alone, Remus had arranged for her to stay with the Jacksons. He told them he had monthly business trips, unable to take his daughter with him or have anyone else watch over her. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were kind enough, but their daughter was not. She rubbed her more stable life in Callie's face, poking fun at her whenever she got the chance and making her feel less than.

Callie had learned to ignore it, to push the feelings of shame aside because she at least had some food and warmth for those nights. The house was usually warm, but Nellie made her sleep on the floor with but a pillow and a single, thin blanket. If she fought back they probably would have lost the niceties of the Jacksons all together. And if Dad knew his daughter was being picked on, he most definitely would've gone mad, which was not needed.

Thankfully she didn't see the girl as much these days, and wouldn't until they came back for Holidays. Nellie had sauntered over to the garden one day, asking if Callie wanted to go for a walk in the woods, to which she declined. Nellie asked if everything was okay.  "Things are great," she replied. She then made sure to add that she was going to a gifted school where her father was teaching, and next time she saw her, things would be much, much more different.

Her father's soft voice then came from the other room, murmuring spells as he double-checked their things, and she felt a familiar flicker of guilt. She knew this wasn't easy for him either, as they navigated a new environment where they wouldn't see each other as much. Lately she could find him in his office when he wasn't at work, prepping for the next ten months. She had no doubt he would be a great teacher. Despite all his insecurities, he was always good with people, and nevertheless very kind.

With a deep breath, she stood, smoothing out her wrinkled jacket. It was time to go. Whether or not she belonged, she'd soon find out.

The morning sun spilled softly through the windows of their little cottage, casting long golden streaks across the weathered floorboards. She turned slowly, taking in every detail she could before it slipped away into memory. The sagging armchair by the fire, where she sat most nights with a book. The shelves lined with jars of odd herbs and potions, cluttered with bits of parchment from Dad's scribbled notes. The crooked kitchen table where they'd shared countless meals, no matter how plain or sparse. Even the chipped mugs drying by the sink seemed important now, like every piece of this place held a memory— memories she feared would fade the moment she walked out the door.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the sea sparkled just beyond their property. She'd miss that view the most. No matter how difficult things got, it was always there, vast and constant, reminding her that the world outside was bigger than her own, and all her troubles.

She exhaled slowly and knelt down to the ground, placing her hand against the floorboards one last time, as if the house could feel her touch. "Thanks for keeping us," she whispered, more to herself than the old wood. "Even when it wasn't easy."

Her throat tightened, but she fought the lump forming there. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry— this wasn't goodbye forever. They would come back soon enough, wouldn't they? Still, a part of her knew things wouldn't be quite the same after today. The girl who had lived here, stuck between bookshelves and old blankets, would be different after Hogwarts.

"Doesn't feel real, does it? But we are finally on our way."

Remus exited his room with the rest of their things, adjusting the strap of the battered suitcase slung over his shoulder. His patched traveling cloak hung loosely around him, worn but neat. Callie's trunk was already beside him, and in his hand, he held her ticket for Platform 9¾, rubbing his thumb absently over the corner as if smoothing a wrinkle that wasn't there.

"All set?" he asked softly when Callie came into view, the corners of his mouth lifting with effort.

Callie rose to her feet and nodded, adjusting her cloak. "Yea." She didn't trust herself to say much more. Her nerves were starting to tangle into knots again, and her fingers found their way to her cannula as she began fiddling. They were really doing this.

Dad could sense her uneasiness, letting out a light sigh before stepping up to her. He gently grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her nose, and instead intertwined it with his.

"You're not doing this alone, Cal," he reassured. "I'll be there with you, every step of the way. And Hogwarts—" He gave a small, encouraging smile. "It's not as scary as it seems right now. You've already faced worse, haven't you?"

She sniffled, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Barely."

Remus chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Barely still counts."

Suddenly she was pressing her eyes shut in frustration, shaking her head. "I'm going to miss you too much. I hate it."

He frowned. "What ever do you mean?"

"When we get there, you're not my father anymore. You're just a distant relative." She let out a chuckle. "What did you decide, an uncle?"

"I know this isn't what either of us wanted. But we'll make it work, alright? Just until the time is right."

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "And when will that be?"

"When it's safe." He squeezed her shoulders gently, his voice steady but soft. "I know it's hard, Callie. But Hogwarts is where we belong right now— both of us. You've made it so far already. I'm so proud of you for that."

Her lips trembled, but she bit them together, unwilling to cry. She gave a small, reluctant nod. "I just... I hate pretending you're not my dad."

"I know," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "But no matter what anyone else sees or hears, I'll always be your father. That's something no spell or secret could ever change."

He gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Here." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of pale blue liquid. Calming drought, of course. She didn't know they had any around. "A Calming Draught. It'll help with the jitters. Just a sip, and you'll feel a bit more like yourself."

She seemed hesitant at first, but Dad nodded, so she went ahead and uncorked the tiny vial. With a deep breath, she took a sip. The cool liquid ran down her throat, and almost instantly, the tightness in her chest began to ease. Her breathing slowed, and the buzzing anxiety that had gripped her faded to a dull hum in the background.

"There you go," Remus said, his voice low and steady. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Better?"

Callie nodded, the weight on her chest lifting just enough to let her breathe again. "Yeah... better."

"Good." He pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. "Now, let's go catch that train, yeah? The adventure's just beginning."

Callie gave him a small, nervous grin. He let her step up to the fireplace first, and though she was nervous and had rarely used the floo network, she didn't let it overwhelm her anymore. With a deep breath, she grabbed a pinch of the glittering green powder from the bowl, her fingers trembling only slightly. As she said the words that would lead her to Charing Cross Road, she didn't look back.

When they finally made it to London, taking a short walk to the bustling station train station, the air changed. King's Cross was loud and chaotic, filled with people rushing by, luggage wheels squeaking against the tiles, and announcements echoing over the intercom. Callie's heart raced as she tried to keep up with her father, a fistful of his cloak held in her hand.

"Platform's this way," he said quietly, glancing down at her as they wove through the throng of Muggle travellers. His gaze was both protective and distant, his mind clearly in two places at once. They walked in step until the large signs for Platforms 9 and 10 came into view.

"Almost there," he murmured, more to himself than to Callie, as they approached the seemingly ordinary brick wall between the two platforms. He stopped just short of it, setting down their trunk with a slight exhale, as if he was letting go of something much heavier than their luggage.

Callie stared at the barrier, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was it.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as they stood by the entrance to Platform 9¾. "Okay, I'm definitely still not ready," she whispered, voice trembling.

Remus crouched slightly to meet her gaze. "You are, my darling. You're going to do just fine. There's nothing you can't handle, Calista." He leaned in closer, his voice quieter now, meant just for her. "And no matter what happens, I'm right here. Always."

She managed a small smile for him. "Always, my starlight?"

They had a saying, whenever she needed reminding that he would never abandon her, even when the world felt too big or too heavy. It wasn't used often, mainly in tense situations between the two. The order was interchangeable but the nicknames for the other never were.

He smiled in return, the same soft, familiar smile she'd known all her life, the one with a hint of sadness tucked beneath it. "Always, my moonbeam."

Sealing the moment the way they always had, they linked their pinkies together. It was their unspoken promise, a quiet reassurance wrapped in that small, familiar gesture. Remus' hand, rough and worn, contrasted with Callie's smaller fingers, but their pinkies fit perfectly, as if they were shaped for that.

In a world where words often failed or went unspoken, this was theirs— a silent 'I'm with you' that neither time nor distance could break. Callie squeezed once, and Remus squeezed back, their fingers lingering for just a second longer, as if anchoring themselves to each other before the unknown pulled them apart.

This wasn't just a habit— it was a promise. No matter what awaited them on the other side of the platform or beyond the school year, they would always find their way back to this. Back to each other.

Then, with a deep breath, they let go.

"Just walk straight through, nice and easy." He gave her an encouraging nod, glancing at the barrier. "I'll be right behind you."

She swallowed hard, tightened her grip on the handle of her trunk, and gave a small nod in return. With a deep breath, she stepped forward— and the wall swallowed her whole.

hogwarts time!!

callie has finally left the house, i repeat, she has finally left the house!

the first two chapters are pretty short compared to the following ones, but that's bc we have so much to cover in third year (and fourth, and fifth, and so on). im doing a combination of the books and the movies, but mainly the books with scenes of the movies sprinkled in because there are moments in both pieces that suit the story better (and are iconic). i hope it doesn't get confusing so let me know in future chapters.

i'm also publishing a bucky barnes daughter fic tomorrow if anyone's interested here! i cannot get over the father-daughter trope im sorry guys. but the oc and bucky have a very... different dynamic to remus and callie. that's all i'll say

see you in 2 mondays on the hogwarts express!