Tongue Tied by queenspuppet

Chapter Two

The Process of Loss

I had managed to avoid taking a carriage into the castle with the Marauders. I know I sound ridiculous, I mean, I’m in love with Remus Lupin, I should be dying to sit next to him. But the remainder of the train ride after he woke me was unadulterated agony. I was practically drowning in that soft green color of his eyes. Sage. Sage green eyes. The boys had tried to hold a conversation with me and all I could do was respond with non-verbal gestures while staring determinedly out the window. They were probably howling over the awkwardness of the ride right now at their table.

I craned my neck slightly to see Potter, Black and Pettigrew sniggering over their dinners. Me, they’re laughing at me. Remus Lupin was craning his neck and looking at…the Hufflepuff table! He was slowly scanning the table. I ducked. Where was Anna? I needed someone to talk to or to at least look as though I belonged to. In my position now it was pretty obvious that I was just as alone as I had been on the train. I was also worried about my friend. What had happened to her? There had been absolutely no sign of her all day. I had gone shopping for school supplies only days ago. Everything had seemed perfectly fine.

I kept to myself watching my classmates stuff themselves to the brink, pushing my food around aimlessly. I’ve never really liked House elf food, there’s something ever so slightly artificial about it. My parents and I cook dinner together, listening to the Rolling Stones or The Fizzing Whizbees. We grow things in our greenhouse. They also raised me a vegetarian so I could never eat much of the food served at Hogwarts. My reason for not eating wasn’t something dramatic like a body complex, or anything. I like food, I just don’t think House Elves are best at it.

“Um…Calliope? Calliope DeSole?” Someone tapped my shoulder and I swung around, accidentally smacking them with my hair. I was too embarrassed to apologize to her, Lily Evans, The Gryffindor Princess and Head Girl.

“Professor Dumbledore needs to speak to you,” she said softly. She looked like she was waiting for me to burst into tears.

“It’s about your friend Anna Wilkins,” she added.

“Now?”

Lily Evans nodded and I stood, abandoning my housemates and pecked salad. I moved quickly up to the Staff table, feeling every eye in the Great Hall boring painfully into my back. Professor Dumbledore gestured for me to move around the table, and stood from his seat. I met him in the very center of the back of the room, standing in front of the massive windows. I curtsied awkwardly, not entirely sure of the protocol on speaking to the Headmaster. I had never done so before, my parents had been the ones to talk to him about my sickness.

“I’m afraid Miss DeSole, that I have just been informed of some terrible news, regarding your classmate and friend Anna Wilkins. I thought that you should be told before it was announced generally to the students.”

I felt my insides shaking, my knees, my ankles. My heart had stopped beating. Terrible news. I would break.

“Miss Wilkins and her family were attacked by a hound of Death Eaters the evening previous. Her parents are currently seeking care in St. Mungo’s.”

‘Is Anna alright? Will she be back soon?,’ I wanted to say.

“Anna,” was all that I could choke out.

“Anna was killed, Miss DeSole. It is a horrible tragedy.” Professor Dumbledore set his large hand down on my shoulder.

I will break from the weight. The weight of that heavy hand on my shoulder. The weight of Anna. Horrible tragedy. No. No it is simply sad. Why do they give us such long words for pain? Pain, Sadness. They’re complex enough without giving them more syllables. The longer the word, the more you hurt.

I am sad.

“I am sad,” I whisper. But the Professor did not hear me. I am glad.

“You will of course be excused from your classes for an appropriate amount of time. If you wish it, travel arrangements will be made so that you are able to attend the funeral.”

Appropriate amount of time. What is the time limit on grief?

“…Time. I need…” Come on Calliope! You can do it, just one full sentence and then you can leave. “I need some time…to think.”

“Of course, Miss DeSole. Please, feel free to come see me if you need anything at all.”

I moved away, stepping backwards a few steps, as if I was afraid to turn. I would look out and see my classmates, and Anna would not be there. She would never be there. I was utterly alone. I turned, to look. With one aerial sweep of my eyes I knew, there was no one.

Professor Dumbledore, I need a new best friend.

Have I mentioned that I’m a good runner? I’m terrific at it, a rather simple process. One foot after the other, the faster the better. As I look out over the great hall I realize that I had trapped myself into a single friendship and am now left a single identity instead of a pair. I se a few students looking back curiously at me, and the oddly perfect Lily Evans still waiting for me to burst into tears.

I run.

I move in a backwards sort of fashion through the castle, moving up into the highest point I find my way to the Astronomy Tower. I breach the barrier of the door and stumble into the fresh air, gasping for breath. The weight of the Professor’s hand is off my shoulder, the weight of the castle. I can breathe again, I will not break. Not yet, at least. I lay down on the tiling, pressing my cheek against the cool ceramic. I slow my breathing and direct my thoughts away from the news and the train ride and the implications of losing Anna. I focus on the sounds around me, soft nighttime sounds, like crickets and a light rippling noise from the lake. I hear a bat squeak. I close my eyes and the noises take me back home to my bedroom in the summertime with the window open and my perpetually cool cotton sheets.

I carefully stand up after a time and make my way slowly back down into the pit of the castle. I take my time, staircase by staircase, careful not to let the crushing feeling of solitude bear down on me again. I make a little small talk with the portraits, provided the halls are completely silent. Eventually I stand in front of the pleasant garden knome portrait, the enterance to the Hufflepuff Common Room. And now I realize I do not know the password. I ran off without knowing the password. I am locked out of my dormitory unless a wandering Hufflepuff happens by.

“Calliope!”

Oh god, not her. Not her again. Not that look, please. I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry. I turn to see Lily Evans barreling down the hall with that unfortunate red color staining her cheeks. A winded James Potter follows behind her.

“We’ve been looking all over for you,” James gasps.

“I’m fine,” I say shortly, a little louder than I had intended.

“We have your password.” She makes the simple thing sound as though she’s handing over Anna’s last words. She puts her hand on my arm. Why do everyone’s hands weigh so much? Why are they pushing down on me with such strength?

“Beggar’s Buttons,” James says. I have never been more thankful for a lack of sympathy than I am for James Potter’s indifference to my loss.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to the funeral?” Lily blurts to me.

“Who died?!” James shouts.

Oh. It wasn’t indifference, just ignorance. Well I can be thankful for that as well.

“Don’t you listen to anything Potter? Calliope’s friend, Anna, died!” Lily rants. James drops his mouth and looks to me in horror.

Too much, I decide. I step into my dormitory and slam shut the portrait door. I’ve had too much for one night. Too many surprises, too many changes, too many unusual things that don’t belong in my simple existence. I ignore the sad looks from my housemates and make my way into my bed. My other dormmates see me come into the room and instantly end their conversation of Anna’s wonderful qualities as a dorm mate. She had been friend. What right do they have to commiserate over the loss of her?

But how close had we really been?

No. I shake off my worries. We were close. We just didn’t talk very much. That was the beauty to our friendship. That we were both so satisfied to have found someone who didn’t want to talk more than necessary. We could read together, work together, eat together, walk together. We chose to do it in silence. People probably thought we were dim, but we were just simple. I never doubted that Anna was as full of thoughts as I was, but I also never needed to know what they were.

She’s gone and suddenly I want more than anything to have a long wordy conversation with her. I want to tell her every last excruciating detail of the train ride. I want to tell her how much she meant to me, how nice it was to have a friend who I could share silence with. I want to know what she thought of the biography we read together about Grindelwald. I want to know all her reasons for wanting to be a medi-witch. I want to break our silence. And I cannot. I cannot even break my own silence now to cry, to sniffle, to wail and sob and beat at my pillows. I can only lay on my bed and be thankful that I can turn and face a wall instead of a group of girls who think they know why it is I hurt.

I can only be silent.

***

My parents picked me up in Dumbledore’s office today. The first day of classes. My silence has gotten worse and despite all the words I had listed in my head to say to my family, none would force their way past my lips. Anna’s parents are still in St. Mungo’s, they are not conscious. No one here knows me, although some know my father from the Ministry. What they do know is that I am the only student from Hogwarts in attendance. The sun is shining. Isn’t it supposed to rain for funerals? My parents stand behind me frowning, not just because they are sad but because they disapprove of funerals. They do not believe in saying final goodbyes, and they do not believe in putting people in boxes in the ground.

I look at the casket hovering patiently over the grave. Anna’s in a box. Anna’s in a box. I shiver.

I suddenly understand my parents disapproval in funerals and boxes. I stay in the back and they stand behind me. I watch as people stand and say their goodbyes. No one here knows me, but no one here knows Anna either. I wish that I could move. I wish that I could speak. But what would I say? What would suffice? My parents hands are on my shoulders, I could not move if I wanted to, my feet are sinking ankle deep into the ground. The weight of my parents hands are the heaviest, and the weight of Anna.

I cannot speak for Anna. I cannot explain our awkward friendship to these strangers. Even if I did feel willing to speak, I would not be able to. I cannot break this silence.

***

School again. Speaking is harder than ever. Haven’t been to class yet.

Where is Anna?

Oh no. Someone’s talking to me. Can’t they see?

I’m Calliope the Mute.

AN: Enjoy and review! More soon.