The Snow Dusted On Their Hearts (A Harry Potter Group Story)

The Snow Dusted On Their Hearts (A Harry Potter Group Story)

It's Margaret Tang's fifth year. As if OWL's, Sirius Black escaping Azkaban, and dementors circling the school were stressful enough, Margaret also falls in love with sixth year Callum Shafiq. There is just one small problem. Callum is a Slytherin. Margaret is a Gryffindor.

Group Story by (CVDB) and (A_Small_Drop). (Lila had to drop out for personal reasons).

Please comment and rate!

Chapter 1

Callum Shafiq

Callum Shafiq had been nervous for the entire end of the summer. It wasn't that Sirius Black was on the loose, that seemed trivial to him. It was his OWL scores he didn't want to see, or more like it, his parents to see. While he knew that his most likely dismal History of Magic score wouldn't be a concern, both his parents failed that one too, he wasn't sure how they would react to the other possible bombed test. And while Callum knew he would get at least an E in Transfiguration, he wanted an O. It was his best subject after all, he should excel in it. So he was pacing, trying to make sure his eleven year old sister, Irene, didn't get the mail before he did.

"Mum!" A shouting came from upstairs. "Mum!" Something crashed upstairs and Callum sighed, wondering what Irene broke this time. Her learning magic would bring one good thing, with the reparo charm she could finally fix her own messes.

"What is it?" Jessica Shafiq asked with a small yawn. She had only just gotten back from her job at St. Mungos. Callum looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t noticed her coming in.

"Mum our letters came!" Irene was giddy with excitement, jumping up and down. She had wanted to go to Hogwarts since Callum had five years ago.

"Oh really?" Their mother asked, sitting down. "Callum, do you think your OWL scores are in there?"

As Irene handed Callum the thick envelope his answer was yes. However he said, "I don't know mum, they might." He opened the seal and pulled out the parchment. He quickly opened one of them and saw it was his supply list, so he set it aside. Nervously he opened what had to be his OWL scores. Reading it he saw that he had received this:

Ancient Runes: O
Arithmancy: E
Astronomy: P
Charms: O
Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
Herbology: A
History of Magic: D
Potions: O
Transfiguration: O

Callum quickly read over his scores again. He did better than he thought! Four "Outstandings", two "Exceeds Expectations", one "Acceptable", and Herbology had never been his best subject to begin with. He knew he was going to fail History of Magic, so the sharp "D" didn't bother him. The failing grade in Astronomy was something to worry about though. He didn't have a good reason really to have failed that.

So he decided to focus on the exceptional instead.

"What did you get?" His mum asked. "Let me see please, Callum."

"I got four O's," Callum said as he handed over the grades. "And I didn't get a Troll on History of Magic, so I learned at least something there."

"What's with the Astronomy grade?"

"Well you see," Callum started, heading into his excuse, "we all have our weaker subjects. Astronomy has always been mine, just like yours was Divination, and dad’s was Potions. Besides, we know my career goals. Mum, I never needed Astronomy. So-"

"Callum," his mother interrupted. "Stop. Stop trying to manipulate me to your wishes and views."

"Manipulate?" Callum said in a surprised tone. "I was just pointing out that failing Astronomy isn't that big of a deal. I wasn't going to continue it after OWL's, even if I did pass."

"Callum Shafiq," Jessica Shafiq's tone became dangerously icy, "I am warning you. Leave well enough be."

Callum knew when to just toe the line, and he knew that he had reached that point. "I'll be outside practicing Quidditch," he said excusing himself.

"Don't fly too high," his mother warned.

"I won't," he called out, already going outside. Callum entered the broom shed and was panicked to see that his Nimbus Two Thousand and One, a gift, or maybe bribe, from the Malfoy's, wasn't in there. Then he remembered that he had brought his broom up to his room, planning on polishing it.

"Hubble," he called out the house elf's name. No sooner than a couple seconds, she appeared, with a clean white pillowcase used to cover the parts that were better left unseen. "Hubble? Could you get my broom from my room?" Callum asked. "It should be on my bed."

The elf bowed low, her chin almost scraping the floor. "Yes Master Callum," she squeaked before disappearing with a loud pop.

Callum knew he was forgetting something. After a moments thought he remembered. "Oh thank you!" He called out to the empty air. His mum tried, and was still trying, to drill him into showing gratitude, but that particular skill didn't come very easily to him.

Hubble came back into the shed, carrying a broomstick way too large for her. Callum wet his lips before speaking. He was only doing this because he love his mum, if anybody else wanted him to do this they would be disappointed. "Thank you," he managed to croak out to the elf. Hubble beamed and left, probably going to report the his mum that he was improving his manners. She got excited over some of the silliest things in Callum's viewpoint. He actually left the shed shaking him head at this quirk of his mum's.

Callum mounted his broom, kicking off from the ground. He flew lower than he would have liked, needing more height to perfect the moves he wanted to, but even with magical defenses around the perimeter, there was always a chance a muggle would see him flying around in broad daylight. He would practice more at night, he decided. Still, he was going to continue to fly now.

After a while he spotted Irene, who must have been waiting for him. As he landed he saw her with her arms crossed, her caramel colored hair whipping across her face, which bore an irritable expression. "I've been waiting," is what she said as Callum landed.

“Not that long,” he replied back shortly, brushing past her.

“Five years Cal!” Irene called out, running up to catch up with him, as he went into the house.

Callum laughed. “You needed the letter first to start waiting,” he told his sister. “Anyways, aren’t we going to Diagon Alley with dad, so mum can catch some sleep?”

“Dad’s back,” Irene informed him. “Now can you hurry up?”

Callum rushed upstairs to drop his broom off onto his bed, he still needed to polish it later, and came back downstairs, slipping his supply list into his pocket before stopping before the fireplace, where Irene and his dad were waiting. “Now Callum,” their dad said, handing Callum the pot with green powder in it, “you are going to go first.”

“Aww!” Irene complained. “Why does he get to go first?”

“Because he’s older and I don’t want you in Diagon Alley by yourself,” dad explained to Irene as Callum took a pinch of powder and stepped into the fireplace.

“Diagon Alley!” He said clearly, throwing the powder down and disappearing from view. He emerged in the Leaky Caldron. Stepping out of the fireplace he dusted the ashes from his cloak and waited for the rest of his party to come. Irene almost fell out of the fireplace when she came, choking on the cinders. Abraham Shafiq came out calmly, like he used the Floo Network everyday. Come to think of it, he probably did.

“Now we need to get Irene’s robes, books, wand, all of her supplies,” Abraham muttered to himself. “Do you want an owl too, sweetie?” He asked Irene.

“No,” she replied. “I want to bring Awol.” Awol was Irene’s cat.

Callum knew that his parents wanted Irene to get an owl, just like he did, so they could contact her. However he also knew that Irene was going to Hogwarts with that stupid cat, and getting in an argument, in public, with her, wasn’t going to be enjoyable. Irene was a screamer. “Dad,” he intervened, “Irene can always use Titus,” Callum pointed out. Titus was his owl. “And if Titus isn’t there, the school has owls.”

“Irene, are you sure?” Their dad asked again.

“Yes!” Irene said indignantly.

Abraham sighed. “Let’s go,” he said tiredly, heading towards Gringotts to get the money for the shopping trip. As they walked he pulled his son over. “Good job on your OWL’s,” he said. “Do you want something for it?”

“Probably,” Callum admitted after careful consideration. “I just don’t know what yet.”

His father sighed. “What supplies do you need?” He asked Callum.

“Books, I need to restock my potions kit, and my robes are getting short,” he replied.

“If I gave you Irene’s booklist would you go and get them?” His father asked, as they passed through the doors of the wizarding bank. “I need to get back into work.”

“Sure,” Callum agreed, as if he really had a choice. “I’ll get my other supplies too, where should I meet you afterwards? The Leaky Cauldron?”

His father laughed, it was a deep rich laugh, pleasant to hear. “I have a feeling that Irene is going to be tricky with her wand,” he confided. “So we will either be at Ollivanders or at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Wait for us there.”

“We need to get the gold first,” Callum states obviously, unsure of what else to say. “And, um, do you have a quill to write down Irene’s books onto my list?”

“We’ll go there after this,” Abraham promised as a goblin lead them down to a cart that would lead them to their vault.

A while later, the Shafiq’s were out looking at quills and ink with their pouches heavy with rattling coins. Irene couldn’t be bothered with looking at basic black ink and white quills for long, and their father was trying to divert her attention from a peacock feather quill and ink that changed color when you wrote with it. Meanwhile, Callum bought his quills and ink, and was writing down Irene’s books onto his own supply list. Stopping up the ink bottle and wiping away the excess ink off the quill, Callum wrapped them both pack up in his parcel before leaving the store and heading to Flourish and Blott’s next door to get his books and Irene’s library. Callum had forgotten how many books first years needed.

When he came in the shopkeeper was fighting a bunch of vicious creatures in a cage, trying to get one out. Two girls were watching him anxiously. The shorter girl with auburn hair leaned over to the Asian one. “That’s my textbook?” She said in horror. “I can’t even buy it safely!”

The black haired girl shrugged. “You’re the one who's been taking Care of Magical Creatures.”

“I’ve taken it for two years so far Margaret,” her friend retorted. “And we’ve always had normal, non-carnivorous textbooks.”

The girl who must have been Margaret shrugged. Callum was pretty sure he had seen them at school before, but he didn’t know them personally. “Joyce,” she said as the man packaged the book with difficulty, “I’m sure it’s perfectly safe. Professor Dumbledore knows what he is doing.”

“Well he hired Lockhart,” Joyce pointed out with a giggle, arguing Margaret’s point, as both girls left the shop. As soon as they were gone the disgruntled storekeeper caught sight of Callum.

“I suppose you want one too!” The shopkeeper exclaimed in distress. “We are never selling them again! Monster Books of Monsters, well they got that one right! They’re worse than the Book of Invisibility!”

“I don’t need, or want, one of those,” Callum interjected. “I need Spellman’s Syllabary, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, Confronting the Faceless, Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, Advanced Potion-Making, A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration,” he said reading his list, passing over Numerology and Grammatica, which had been the same book for Arithmancy since third year.

The shopkeeper looked like he could kiss Callum. He must have really hated The Monster Book of Monsters.

“I also need the first year books for Hogwarts,” Callum said, showing the list to the shopkeeper.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!” The shopkeeper exclaimed with a beam. “That’s a proper textbook! Not those monsters. No!” He yelled suddenly, catching sight of two of the books in a relentless battle of teeth. “Stop that!”

Callum decided that he could find the books himself as the shopkeeper entered the books battle, trying to break it up. It didn’t seem to be going very well for him as he had to draw his hand back hastily to avoid losing a finger. What kind of teacher would assign that textbook? Callum wondered as he drew his books from the shelves. Callum was able to find all of the books pretty easily, and was soon watching the store assistant bind the two piles of books, Irene’s and his, into parcels while the monster books were being homicidal. The last thing he heard as he left the store was the shopkeeper’s despairing cries.

Callum’s next stop was Madame Malkin’s for new robes. He caught sight of Irene in there, looking for all the world like a bunny rabbit with a caffeine overdose. He heard the person measuring her ask her to stay still several times. Callum was able to stay still and received his new robes pretty quickly, leaving the shop before his sister, who had been there before he had. As he left, he caught his father’s eye, trying very hard not to laugh at his misery.

As he left the shop he ran straight into taller girl, Margaret her name was, from the bookshop, this time unaccompanied by her friend. And in doing that, she dropped all of the potion supplies she had been carrying, their contents pouring out on the streets and some of it falling onto her clothes.

She looked down at her spilled ingredients in disgust, along with a few cuss words. “‘Thanks a lot!” She snapped at him as she began to pick up the remains. “Really, I’ve always wanted to have my potions ingredients pushed out of my hands!”

Callum knew he should say something. “Sorry?” He tried awkwardly. The girl threw him a venom filled look. Callum bent down and started helping her pick up her stuff.

“I don’t need your help.”

“I’m sorry,” Callum tried again as the girl gave him the cold shoulder, literally. She had turned her back on him as far as she could as she hastily threw her stuff in her arms. She rushed off, dropping more stuff in the process, in an effort to get away from him.

Callum came up to her and helped her pick it up again. “I really didn’t mean to,” he told her. “Look, I’ll pay for whatever ingredients I broke. That’s fair right?”

Her dark eyes seemed to mellow slightly at this for a second. “Forget it,” she grumbled, ducking her head.

“No really,” Callum insisted, taking some of the broken stuff and throwing it away in a nearby wastebin.

“Don’t bother,” Margaret said grumpily again. “I can get my own stuff.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Callum said with a laugh. “Oh,” he said sticking his hand out. “I’m Callum. What’s your name?” Callum already knew from the bookstore, but he figured that might seem creepy.

Margaret look at his hand as if it was a viper, just waiting to strike. Then she cautiously shook it. “Margaret,” she said shortly.

“Well Margaret, I am going to buy you new supplies whether you like it or not.”

“Who allowed you to be so pushy?” She snapped. Then she took a deep steadying breath. “If I allow you to buy me new supplies, will you leave me alone?” She asked.

“Yes,” Callum said, already standing and ready to go.

Margaret got up grumbling. “Fine,” she said. And with that they walked down the street, heading to the Apothecary.

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