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 21

Callum Shafiq

At least she gave me a chance, Callum thought, feeling slightly rejected. That was more than I should have asked for but still...

And what’s with Black trying to attack the castle? I could care less about most of the other Gryffindors but I’m glad Irene and Margaret weren’t hurt in the crossfire. Irene seemed very shaken. Maybe tomorrow I can find out what really happened from Margaret, Irene has gotten very secretive with me this year and I don’t like it.

Perhaps, the voice in the back of his head said annoyingly, this is how she feels with you for most of her life.

Shut up, Callum thought to himself, concerning himself about his sanity.

I wish I never got myself into this mess, Callum thought bitterly about Adelaide and the Margaret situation as he patrolled the Great Hall as Weasley ordered a bunch of half-witted first years to go to sleep. And I wish I could go to sleep, he yawned.

I can just explain to her what happened. Margaret seems like a rational person, surely she’ll understand…
And Callum found himself, in spite of the extreme circumstances and the risk of losing Margaret permanently if he wasn’t eloquent enough, looking forward to his library session with Margaret.


Callum’s day went by in a sleepy blur and before he knew it he was at the library waiting for Margaret. Seven o’clock came and still she wasn’t there. Five minutes passed, then ten, and when fifeteen minutes came Callum sighed and started to pack up, figuring he could finally get sleep.

“Sorry,” Margaret came in in a whirlwind. “You know how Joyce’s rants are, I barely got away.”

“Mhhmm,” Callum said. “What was it this time? Homework? Slytherins? Irene? Teachers? A specific teacher? Me?” He looked at her gauging her response.

“More like a combination of all of them, I’d say,” Margaret said, laughing.

“Well as long as I’m in there,” Callum joked lightly. “My life goal is to piss her off you know.”

“I’d say mission accomplished,” Margaret replied, smirking. “You are probably her least favorite person.”

“Don’t tell Snape,” Callum winked, “he might be upset I stole his crown. From what I heard from Adrian, she is a menace in his class.”

“Yeah, well, this is Joyce we’re talking about. Why would she be civil in a Slytherin class?” Margaret smiled, “But at least she’s clear. I mean, she could never be confusing, she’s way too opinionated for that.”

“So I guess you want to know my confusing actions right?” Callum sighed.

“You guessed it!” Margaret smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“I really don’t know why I said it,” Callum started. “See, Phylis noticed I was acting different and hit that I liked someone.” Callum paused and awkwardly shifted in his seat. “She started guessing who it might be and I just blurted out the first respectable name that came to mind.”

“Respectable? Wow, you are definitely a pureblood,” Margaret said, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey!” Callum protested. “I can’t help my upbringing!”

“I mean I guess I just thought that you wouldn’t stoop so low as to describe a muggleborn as, well, not respectable,” Margaret leaned back and studied Callum’s face, making him wonder what she was really thinking. She was hard to read sometimes.

“Are you still mad at the ‘mudblood’ slip in Diagon Alley? I said I was sorry,” Callum almost whined.

“Sometimes I wish I still hated you.”

“And why is that?” Callum asked lightly.

“Why do you think? It would be so much easier. Perfect, really. Gryffindors and Slytherins aren’t supposed to like each other, it’s just not how it works. So no. I’m not still mad, and I don’t still hate you. But I wish I was and I wish that you weren’t so bloody likeable,” Margaret said, running a hand through her hair.

Callum felt himself internally blush, and hoped that he still remained his cool exterior. “Oh, like you aren’t likeable. You are a great person, and I should, um, thank you.”

“Thank me? What for?” Callum watched Margaret’s face cloud over with confusion and he laughed good naturedly.

“For standing up for Irene. She’s new to all this, and she’s lost some friends because of that bloody stupid hat. She’s also been tormented by some people and I just feel bad I can’t do more to help. Believe me, if I could wave my wand and make it all better, I would.”

“Well, the Sorting Hat doesn’t make mistakes. If she’s a Gryffindor, she’s a Gryffindor, and that means I trust her and I’m loyal to her. Joyce just has a chip on her shoulder and she’s too stubborn to realize that it’s stupid. So don’t thank me, I’m just standing up for my second family.”

Slytherins do that too, Callum thought. “You don’t seem very Gryffindor sometimes,” he told Margaret, “despite the nobleness. You could be a Slytherin, honestly.”

“We’re all a little more alike than we acknowledge,” Margaret nodded, doodling with her finger on the table in front of them. “I think it’s because everyone is slightly desperate to believe that they don’t have anything in common with the people who have similar flaws.”

“And what do you think our similar flaws are?”

“If you were a muggle, you’d be a great psychiatrist, you know that?” Margaret laughed. “But we’re both loyal to a point that we’ll protect people no matter what it means for ourselves. And it sounds like being brave and noble, but that’s a load of crap, it just means that we lose ourselves and who we are to try and help others. And I think that we are also bystanders sometimes. I mean, you let Phylis run around controlling things, and I let Joyce rant and say stupid things all the time. Which is bad, because then we just have thoughts about it but they never come out, because we’re too busy letting other people drive. Oh, and we’re way too sarcastic.”

“Have you ever tried to stop Phylis when she’s on a mission?” Callum joked. “I value my life too much to interfere!”

“Have you ever tried to stop Joyce from ranting?” Margaret retorted. “That girl could talk through anything.”

“Maybe we should get her to do the Quidditch commentary-- then on second thought I don’t want to hear her encouraging someone to split open my skull.”

“Ooh, I don’t know...I think I might like to hear that, actually,” Margaret laughed.

“Gee, thanks,” Callum said. “Unfortunately for you, I would never allow that to happen. I have stellar self-preservation.”

“That, and Phylis would have the heads of those who were involved, especially Joyce, and then we’d have a great war upon us. Maybe it’s best we leave the commentary to more peaceful people.”

“Jordan is peaceful?” Callum snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Fine, we’ll leave the commentary to less violent people. I mean, Lee may not be peaceful, but he’s definitely not bloodthirsty,” Margaret said, twisting a piece of hair in her fingers absently. “So, I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“What’s it like being friends with your family and nobody else?” Margaret smirked, and Callum was sure that he wasn’t forgiven yet.

“I’m friends with plenty of people outside my family!” Callum protested.

“Explain Phylis then,” Margaret smirked.

“How, how did you know we were related?” Callum stuttered.

“I didn’t, I just guessed, I mean you two seem close.”

“So that means were related?!” Callum exclaimed. “Gryffindor logic makes no sense.”

"You don't make sense either, so..." Margaret said, laughing at Callum's face. "But seriously, you don't. You're confusing. You should work on that."

“Like you’re any better. And I’m usually good at reading people. I mean, not to brag or anything...”

"Oh come off it, at least I didn't start dating another guy the day after kissing you. That's pretty confusing. And rude, but we've established that part already."

“Touche. I would love to argue but to do that I would be manipulating you and that is against my morals,” Callum said calmly, hiding his laughter.

"What? Callum Shafiq has morals?!" Margaret feigned shock and surprise.

“Have I murdered someone?” Callum asked pointedly.

"Not yet."

“Well, since I obviously haven’t murdered anyone yet, or insulted innocent first years, I obviously have some morals….hey!” Callum exclaimed just picking up on the ‘yet’. “I’m not a murderer!”

"Well I don't know that! For all I know, you keep asking me to meet you here so that you can murder me and then hide my body among the forbidden books," Margaret said. Callum blinked at her while clasping his hands together on top of the table.

“To murder you in such a publicly accessible place could only be described as completely idiotic. I am not an imbecile, if I were to murder you, I would take you to the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night, or perhaps even drown you in the Prefects' bathroom. That way no one could trace my affiliation back to you, and I would be a free man."

"You realize that as a Gryffindor speaking to a Slytherin, it is completely disconcerting that you have two potential plans to murder someone and get away with it, right?"

“You mean most people don’t come up with random schemes late at night?”

"Yeah no." Margaret smiled lightly at Callum. "So, I'm pretty sure I said to be here for a specific reason."

“Right,” Callum said, “well I already explained what happened and you should forgive me because I was trying to survive the wrath of Phylis."

"And if I do? What does that make us?" Margaret asked.

“I guess that makes us Jomeo and Ruilet. Is that their names?”

"I think you mean Romeo and Juliet, Callum." Margaret laughed, "But that means that in the next three days we have to get married and die."

“What?” Callum exclaimed in shock.

"Hey, it's a tragedy, and I didn't write it. Don't complain to me!"

“Muggles are weird,” Callum muttered. “And muggleborns are even weirder,” he joked.

"Rude." Margaret pretended to be offended, but she couldn't hide her laugh for very long. "And what about Adelaide?"

“That may be potentially problematic,” Callum admitted.

"Just a tad.”

“I’ll figure it out, look, by January everything will be fine, I promise."

"Okay. I believe you. I don't know why, but I do. Don't screw it up." Margaret said, leaning a cheek on her hand, which rested on the table.

“So am I forgiven?”

"Only if you promise to kiss me lots," Margaret said, smiling.

“That I can do,” Callum said leaning in towards Margaret.

"Okay, I forgive you," Margaret said, meeting Callum halfway. It felt so right to him.

“So I guess we should actually do some transfiguration,” Callum said when they broke away. “I mean, I want you to do well.”

“You just don’t want your Juliet to fail your favorite subject.”

“Actually no,” Callum said with a smile. “A trait of a Slytherin is ambition and determination, and I am determined to help you meet your ambitions of passing this class. We do that sometimes, you know.”

“Really, I thought helping others was beyond you guys?”

Callum chose to ignore that and dove into the complexities of Transfiguration. Margaret was actually doing pretty well and was focusing, which made him happy. He wanted her to do well.

“Oh no,” Margaret turned as white as a sheet.

“Hey,” Callum said supportively, “it’s not that hard, just-”

“Not that,” Margaret said looking at something behind Callum. Callum turned and saw an enraged Joyce.

“Oh boy.”

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