Rose Weasley and the Callamitus Clause

One morning over breakfast, Lorcan turned to Rose and said, "We're going key-hunting today."

Rose looked up, startled. It had been a week since the first task, and though Rafael had returned to the Hall, their group was not the same. Though he had previously been exceedingly quiet, Rafael was now completely mute. He ate with his wand on the table, always a few inches from his hand.

Another change came between classes. Rose would often see James, Lysander, and Dmitri,who were all the same age, walking together, but now Rafael joined their group, a steady hand on his brother's shoulder. James reported that he was always right outside the classroom at the end of class, ready to meet Dmitri when the bell rang.

In all of the events surrounding the Tournament, Rose had forgotten about Lorcan's mystery door. "I didn't even notice that you and Lysander had switched places," she commented. "Lorcan, why do you think this key even exists?"

"Trust me, it does," he replied confidently. "Another trick will be finding the door."

Sighing, Rose took the Finder he offered her. "Did you fix the spell on this?" she asked curiously, turning the thin straw between her fingers.

"With Lysander's help. It should work, but as I haven't been able to test it out..." Lorcan shrugged.

So Rose was supposed to find a key that may or may not exist, with a magical instrument that may or may not work. Perfect.

"I actually can't go hunting today," she said, remembering her plan for the day. "I have some researching to do in the library."

"That's fine," said Lorcan. "Just keep an eye out for the key. Test out the Finder, see if it does anything."

Rose did spend the day in the library, burning through book after book. No matter how many tomes she searched, however, she could not find the term Trijuska. She knew she had heard it somewhere before, but the more she searched, the farther away the answer seemed. Her sole achievement was to test Lorcan's Finder - she Found a book that she had been looking for, but unfortunately, the Finder paid very little attention to anything in between the Found Object and it. Rose found this out when Famouse Wizardes and Witches of the 13th Century tried to fly to her Finder through a large wooden bookcase and a tall Hufflepuff's head.

Lysander found her later that afternoon, hidden behind a mountain of books. "Looks like you're up to something... sneaky," he said with interest, examining a copy of Where to Find Fantastic Felines, only to put it back on top of A Progression of the Dark Arts. "Sampling the library's selection?"

"I'm looking for a word, but I don't know what it means, and I don't know where I heard it," grumbled Rose, setting aside Notable Magical Names of Our Time. "I don't even think I read it somewhere."

Lysander sat and picked up Magical Customs while Travelling Abroad. He helped Rose search books from the arcane to the mundane until the librarian noticed the hour and kicked them out. Together they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, eyes blurring and fingers numb.

As December continued, the students' focus shifted to the upcoming Yule Ball. By custom, only fourth years and above could attend, though they could ask younger students to go with them. Dmitri was the exception to the rule.

"I find out that, since I am guest, I go to Ball," he said excitedly over breakfast one morning. "Rose, vill you come vith me? I am allowed to bring friend. You are friend, are you not?"

Rose was touched that he had asked her. "I'd love to," she said earnestly, surprised that she meant it. "Thanks."

She was not surprised to hear that James had been asked by an older student. He had always been popular amongst his friends, and apparently popularity transcended age. The shock came with Albus.

"She just... asked me," he said, eyes wide. He had just stumbled into Potions class after being held up by a group of giggling girls. "Mayra Howell. Her sister's going with James. They thought it would be fun..."

...to take the Potters to the Ball, completed Rose silently. To be honest, she was surprised that the Howell sisters had been the only ones. She often caught girls from other houses staring at the brothers. She wasn't jealous of her cousins; if anything, she felt bad that they were the objects of such unrestrained and unwanted attention. Unwanted for Albus, that is. James reveled in the glow of his parents' reputations.

Two weeks before Christmas Break, Professor Evariste announced that they would be holding class outside. "As Professor Trelawney recommended it," he explained, "I will abide." Rose and Albus grinned at each other when he mentioned the Divination teacher famous for predicting one student's death per year. "She said that she Saw some out-of-season weather and that we should take the chance to bask in the sunlight."

So the first years trudged outside, clutching their cloaks around themselves as the cool wind fought to pull them away. Evariste conjured a few benches, which the students sat on as they looked around, trying to find Trelawney's alleged sunlight. Already shivering, Rose took an empty bottle from her bag and put a small magical flame in it, hoping that Evariste wouldn't see. If he noticed the flickers of red coming from near her feet, he said nothing.

They had just begun reviewing Dual-Stunning Spells when the wind really picked up. Evariste raised his voice, trying to speak above it, but his words were lost in the growing clamor. He pointed his wand to his throat, said a word that was lost in the wind, then tried to speak again. The students shook their heads; they could hear nothing. Regarding his wand curiously, Evariste began gesturing to the castle, trying to direct his class to head back.

Rose picked up her flame bottle only to see that the fire had gone out. Noting it as extremely odd- she had not extinguished it, and since the bottle was closed, it could not have been affected by the weather- she hurried to pack her book, which was very nearly taken by the increasing winds.

Though they rushed to pack, the first years were still outside when it began.

The howling winds centered over the Lake. It almost seemed like they had vanished entirely, if one ignored the swirling mass of black water beneath them. Suddenly, the Durmstrang ship gave a frightening lurch, then another, and a third. Alarmed students stuck their heads outside, only to lose hats, earmuffs, and scarves.

The ship continued to rock dangerously. Professor Ivanoff emerged first, looking around in wonder. Quickly, he called for his students and led them off the boat. Wands drawn, they barely managed to keep their footing as they rushed across the grounds.

The winds did not leave the empty ship be. It sounded like someone was taking a canon to the vessel; over and over again, large booms thundered through the grounds, causing the students to stumble back in alarm.

Hagrid had emerged from his house, carrying a long, thick oak wand that was larger than any Rose had seen before. She vaguely recalled her parents telling her that he had been granted use of his wand after the war, but she couldn't quite remember how he had lost use of it in the first place. Now he stood by the Abraxan, waving his wand violently as he spoke words no one could hear. There was no visible change to the winged horses' pen, which he was trying to draw protections around.

Parts of the immense ship were beginning to break off and tumble into the lake. Chunks of wood flew through the air, littering the grounds with the debris. Professor Evariste stood transfixed alongside his students, all thoughts of getting to safety gone. The - storm, Rose supposed she should call it, although it was no normal storm, was transfixing in the beauty of the winds and rain whipping through the air.

Something odd was happening to Rose. She felt as if a warm fire had been lit inside her chest. She touched below her neck and realized that the heat was coming from there. Pulling on the silver chain until she could see it properly, she realised that the Prewett locket that her parents had given her was growing hot.

It began searing her fingertips. She dropped it back above her robes and tried to lift the chain from around her neck, but an invisible hand that pressed the locket to her chest was holding it down.

Just then, the doors to the castle opened. Rafael emerged, shortly followed by Professor McGonagall. Eyes strangely barren of any emotion, he took quick strides past the other students and onto the grounds.

Professors Evariste and McGonagall both threw out their wands to draw him back, but nothing happened. Rose looked around; many people had their wands out and were murmuring spells under their breath, but none of the spells were working. She drew her own wand, pointed it at the ground, and muttered, "Aguamenti." It was the first spell that came to mind- she had been watching Dominique do her homework the day before and she had been describing the practical usage of the spell.

A small trickle of water fell from the end of her wand.

It was contrary to everything that should have happened in that moment- the spell she had never learned should not have worked, even in the slightest, especially when everyone else's spells were failing. Rose glanced around; no one had noticed the small spurt of water where there should have been none.

Evariste looked to be concentrating on something intently. He closed his eyes and threw his hands out, palms facing towards the ship. Nothing.

The invisible hand that had been pressing the burning locket to Rose's chest lifted, and she automatically took a deep breath. But then the locket was lifting, tugging her forward with a force she could not resist. She stumbled out in front of the other students, feeling Albus' fingers try to clutch her robe, then slip away. Any words directed at her were lost in the din of the magical storm.

Rafael stood in the center of the open space, blank eyes affixed on his school's ship, which was falling to pieces. The winds had split- half attacked the Durmstrang ship, but the other half had begun to swirl around Rafael. He did not seem to notice his robes being torn apart by the vicious currents, nor did he feel them whipping at his body. Rose took another step forward, and her ears popped. The air around her was suddenly still, though she could see the winds raging outside of her protected bubble.

Rafael still stared ahead, no expression on his face. Rose's locket tugged her forward once more, and she saw that it was being drawn to Rafael. She touched his arm, and he jumped, as if burned. He looked from Rose to the ship and back, confused. "Vhat is... the ship..."

"Don't bother," she told him as he lifted his wand. "Your spells won't work, and I don't know anything strong enough to save it."

He looked down at her. "You? You are little girl. Vhy vould your spell vurk and my spell fail?" He returned his gaze to his ship and spoke a harsh word in a language Rose did not know. She felt a buzz go through the arm by which they were connected, and a small ball of light emerged from the tip of Rafael's wand.

"It's not enough," realized Rose, speaking her thoughts as they came to her. "The locket. It can fight this, but only a bit. You can't save the ship."

Rafael regarded her oddly. "You speak not your vurds," he said slowly. "No. You speak your vurds, but they are not..." He shook his head, unable to find the way to say what he meant.

Rose had a similar problem. There were no words to explain to him what she thought- that the storm was nullifying their spells and protections; that whatever spell was on the locket she wore was stronger than the one used to form the storm, but still not strong enough. Instead, she said, sounding far more calm than she felt, "We need to get back to the castle."

She had no problems walking, but Rafael looked like he was struggling to fight an invisible current. Rose saw the winds shift to envelop them; they tugged against her roes, her hair, and especially at the hand connecting her to Rafael. But she refused to release him, concentrating on Dmitri's panicked expression when his brother came out of the first task. She could not see her friend like that again, and certainly not because of her.

The locket still tugged at her neck, but less urgently, as if it knew she was walking out of the storm. With each step she took, waiting for Rafael to have the strength to take his, the locket fell to rest closer to her chest.

While they had been out on the field, the other students had been ushered inside. Only Professor McGonagall remained, straining to hold the door open. Once Rose and Rafael were both inside, the door slammed shut, and McGonagall leaned against it.

"Hospital Wing, both of you," she ordered wearily. "Now. Rafael, your headmaster will meet you there."

"Professor, I'm-"

"Not a word, Miss Weasley," said the headmistress firmly. "Hospital Wing."

The further Rose walked from the grounds, the cooler her locket grew. By the time she reached the Hospital Wing, the metal was cold and she was about ready to collapse.

Madame Chang showed them to adjoining cots. "Just lie here for a bit, dear," she said. "Professor McGonagall told me to wait until she arrived and examined you herself."

Rose closed her eyes to form a question- how had the message arrived so quickly?- and when they next opened, Albus and James were by her bedside. "What were you thinking?" hissed Albus, and it was one of the few times Rose had ever seen James looking somber. "You could have been killed!"

It did, indeed, feel like she had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. She noticed that the light coming through the windows was significantly darker. That's odd, she thought. I don't remember falling asleep.

She took the locket out from beneath her robes, wincing as her aching muscles protested the movement. For all of the battering her body had taken, the locket looked untouched.

"No one's spells were working," she explained at a whisper, glancing around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. Madame Chang was nowhere in sight, and Rafael looked to be asleep. "The locket started to heat up as soon as the storm started, and when I cast a spell, it worked."

"So you decided that was a sign you should go into the storm?" said James disbelievingly.

"It wasn't just that," said Rose, quickly explaining Rafael's sudden appearance and blank stare. "No one's spells were working but mine, and then my locket was pulling me toward him."

"That's mental," said James, "absolutely mental. Let me see the locket?"

Rose was certain that she wasn't going to be able to remove it, but it slipped easily over head and into James' hands. He examined it carefully, going as far as to poke it with his wand.

"Does that work in here?" asked Rose, looking at James' wand.

He shrugged, then shot red sparks across the room. "Suppose so," he said with a grin. "This is the Prewett locket, isn't it? I remember Mum talking about it. She never mentioned it doing anything special."

"D'you think Uncle Ron would've known if it did?" asked Albus skeptically.

"But Mum was there when he gave it to me," Rose reminded the brothers, "and she certainly would have."

They had just agreed to write to their parents asking for information when Professor McGonagall entered with Professor Ivanoff. McGonagall stopped at the end of Rose's bed, opened her mouth to speak, then froze. Lips still parted, she slowly looked over the scene. Rose lay in bed, and Albus and James knelt next to her. But it was all so familiar...

She shook her head as if to clear it. "Miss Weasley, would you like to explain yourself?"

Rose looked to the brothers, unsure of what to say. She hesitated to tell the truth about her locket- James was right, it did sound crazy. "I'm sorry, Professor," she began. "I just...I'm really close to Dmitri, so when Rafael headed out there..." She realized that there was no proper way to explain her actions but the truth. She took the locket from James, ready to explain, but Professor McGonagall was nodding.

"That was very kind of you," she said quietly. "Incredibly foolish, but good-hearted. It's a miracle that neither of you was injured," she added, looking to Rafael, who was just coming around. His headmaster had taken a seat next to the cot. "That storm..."

"D'you know what caused it?" asked Rose, unable to contain the question any longer. "None of you could work magic, and it focused-"

"We know perfectly well what it focused on," said McGonagall quickly, a warning in her eyes. "It shall be taken care of. For now, the Durmstrang students will be staying here in the castle."

"Dmitri can stay with me," said James immediately. "He's closer to me and Lysander than those Slytherin blokes anyway."

"We will discuss sleeping arrangements at a later time," said McGonagall firmly. "For now, your cousinneeds to be examined by Madame Chang, and then she will need to rest."

As Albus leaned in to hug her, Rose whispered, "Find Dmitri and get him here. Ivanoff won't think to." He met her eyes in silent understanding.

Madame Chang seemed relieved to be able to examine Rose at last. "Nothing is broken," she said with a sigh, "but you may have some nasty bruises. Drink this," she ordered, handing Rose a glass of light pink liquid. "It's to make sure you don't have any internal injuries we should be worrying about."

When the examination was complete- three more potions and one suspicious puffed pastry later- Madame Chang announced that Rose was only slightly worse for the wear from her time in the storm. "Any extreme bruising and you come back to me," she said firmly. "You can spend the night here, if you prefer, or go back to your common room."

"I'll go back to my room," Rose decided quickly. She looked over to Rafael; Ivanoff was still by his bedside, conversing with his student in low tones.

On her way out, she found Albus and Dmitri hovering by the doorway. "We couldn't make it out of the Hall," explained Albus as Dmitri rushed inside. "He's going to be staying with James and Lysander. Some of the other Gryffindors tried to make a fuss, but it's hard to hate Dmitri."

They began walking back to Gryffindor Tower. "How did dinner go?" asked Rose, realising that she must have missed it.

"Not great," admitted Albus grimly. "The Durmstrang ship is completely destroyed. Everyone is pretty jumpy. The Beauxbatons students are worried about their carriage-"

"It wasn't even touched by the storm!" objected Rose.

"Exactly. Everyone knows it was a blatant attack on the Durmstrang ship."

"Must have been an entirely uncomfortable meal." She could only imagine the surly Durmstrang students sitting in the Great Hall after such an attack. It was not a pretty picture.

They reached the seventh floor, where the Fat Lady was waiting for them. "I heard about what happened to the ship," she said, her warm voice low. "Absolutely dreadful. Do they know who was responsible for it?"

"Biddocus Bibble," said Albus, confusing Rose until the portrait swung open.

"I surely hope not!" the Fat Lady cried as Rose climbed through the portrait hole.

James was waiting in a corner of the common room, not reading the textbook that lay open on his lap. "I took some food from dinner," he said as Rose sat at the table. It was covered with an assortment of dinner rolls and meat pastries. "I knew that you wouldn't be fed anything decent in the Hospital Wing."

Albus and James talked about the storm as Rose began to eat, for once thankful of her cousin's experience in all matters of the Hospital Wing (after all, he'd been there enough after Qudditch). "It only affected a small area," mentioned Albus. "You were in the dungeons and couldn't hear a thing."

"I still can't believe Trelawney had you all out there," remarked James with amusement. "What a nut. Why did Evariste listen to her?"

"She's right some of the time, and he had no reason not to."

"It was freezing!" exclaimed James. "I'd still like to know exactly what she saw that warranted your class being out there."

Rose had to wonder the same thing. The Divination teacher had been right about one thing- the weather had indeed been remarkably out-of-season. Exhausted, Rose finished eating and went directly to bed. Before shutting her eyes, she made sure that she was wearing her locket. As she had on her first night at Hogwarts, she fell asleep with one hand wrapped around it.

Everyone had expected changes, but not so soon after the incident. "Students will go directly to their classes," announced Professor McGonagall over breakfast the next morning. "When not in class, students will be in their common rooms. All Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students will attend lessons with Hogwarts seventh years. Your respective heads have your schedules."

Due to his age, Dmitri was left in all of James' classes. Rafael scowled at the announcement, because it meant he could no longer walk with his younger brother to his classes. "We'll watch out for Dmitri," promised James, but it did not seem to sooth Rafael's worries.

Only once did he bring up what had happened in the storm. He waited for Rose to arrive at lunch the next day, then pulled her aside.

"I vant to thank you," he said seriously. "Vhat you did vas very kind. You vere not needing to, but you did."

"It wasn't a big deal," replied Rose honestly. "I just... did it."

Rafael never mentioned it again, but Rose thought about it often. She poured over every detail with Albus and James in the common room each night, always stopping as soon as Dmitri arrived. They trusted him, but it just didn't seem right to have him in the conversations.

"Rafael didn't even stop when he walked outside," recounted Rose one evening after Dmitri had gone to bed. She too was exhausted, but there was something still nagging her about the storm. She fiddled with her locket absently as she spoke "His eyes were blank, like... like he had been Confounded!" she realized. "James, you and Dmitri were in Potions at that point, weren't you?"

"Yes," he said uneasily. "Rose, what are you getting at?"

"If Rafael walked Dmitri to class," she continued, feeling as if she had finally solved the puzzle, "then Rafael was in the dungeons too! And who do we know is in the dungeons?"

"If you're getting at the Slytherins-" Albus began.

"It was Alistair again!" concluded Rose with conviction. "Alistair in Foreign Studies, Alistair in the corridor, Alistair in the Box, and Alistair in the storm!"

James and Albus exchanged a glance. "It's possible," allowed Albus, "but really, why-"

"It's perfect!" exclaimed Rose. Why were they not seeing what she was seeing? "Attack the Durmstrang ship, then bewitch Rafael so he's caught in the middle of the storm- which makes it so no one's magic works, so no one can save him!"

"Save whom?" asked Lysander, coming to sit with them. "Rose, I got this out of the library. Thought you might be interested."

She did not ask how Lysander had managed to get into the library when by the new rules, students had to be in a classroom, the Great Hall, or their common room at all times. The book was already open to a page with an illustration of a storm ripping apart a small house. She watched as chunks of the roof flew away, then reappeared as the image repeated itself.

Magical storms can be fashioned in many ways, she read. It is not recommended to mix magic with weather, as disastrous results may occur. One of the most difficult storms to brew is the Delaney variety, named for the witch who invented it during the Dark Ages. This storm, limited to a small area, nullifies any existing spells and makes it impossible to lay or cast new spells or protections while it is in effect.

"This is it," she said, looking up from the book. There wasn't a doubt in her mind- Alistair had conjured a Delaney storm. "Everything is here: the limited area, the nullification of established spells, everything."

Lysander looked over at the book. "A student would have a terrible time whipping one of these up," he commented, meeting Rose's gaze. "He would have to be pretty powerful."

At that moment, Rose knew that Lysander understood her theory and agreed with it. It was good to have someone on her side.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Knowing in her heart that she was correct wasn't the same as having the power to do something about it. She watched Alistair closely as he passed her on the way to class, memorizing the names and face of the students he was with. There were the burly Payne brothers; tall and lean James Baena; short and round Zachary Estrada; and others who came and went with the days.

There were complications in rebuilding the Durmstrang ship. Professor McGonagall took a team of teachers out to inspect what remained of it the day after the storm, but the general consensus was that there was too much magic in the pieces to put it back together with a spell.

"I won't dance around it," Professor Evariste told his class the next week. "You were all there. You know there was magic in that storm. Now, that magic mixed with the spells that had already been used on and around the ship- and those were numerous. A simple spell will not be enough to repair the damage. Yes, Miss Marsh?"

"If they can't put it back together, will they have to make a new ship?" asked Tia Marsh curiously. "I mean, how did they do it in the first place? Did they take a Muggle ship and bewitch it?"

The spent the rest of the lesson discussing the pros, cons, and legal limitations of bewitching Muggle objects. Rose blushed as Professor Evariste brought up a hypothetical situation involving a flying car. She glanced at Albus, who was grinning; they were both remembering a story their fathers had told them about their time at Hogwarts.

The other teachers seemed more reluctant to discuss the storm than Professor Evariste. In Transfiguration, Professor Randor showed one of his rare fits of emotion and wouldn't let the subject go.

"Miss Patil, do you really believe that the incident with the Durmstrang ship has anything to do with Transfiguration?"

"Well-"

"Tell me, anyone, is it possible to Transfigure one state of weather into an entirely new one?"

Rose's hand was the only one that went up. "No," she said once Professor Randor had called on her. "According to Riley's Second Law of Transfiguration, one state of weather cannot be Transfigured into another."

"That is correct," said the teacher with a nod. It was a sign of his disapproval of the topic that he did not award Gryffindor points for the answer. "Now, water may be turned into something else- say, pebbles." He took a mug from his desk, flipped it over, and out tumbled a mass of small rocks. "It cannot, however, be turned into rain. Tell me why."

Once again, Rose had the answer. "Rain is essentially water, just spread apart and falling," she answered. "You would need a spell to induce movement, not just a Transfiguration."

After the lesson, Rose and Albus gathered their books (which had remained untouched during the double lesson) and headed to the third floor for Charms. "I suppose it makes sense," said Albus, "but why can't you turn water into pebbles, then the pebbles into rain, or wind?"

"It still involves direction," explained Rose, automatically hopping over a trick stair that turned your leg blue if you stepped on it. "You can't Transfigure something into motion- you can turn a flying bird into a rock, but you can't turn a rock into a flying bird. Flying is a motion, a state of being, not a physical element of an object."

It had actually been one of the more interesting Transfiguration classes they had had, Rose was disappointed to realise. In their regular lessons, they had barely progressed past altering color and size, which Rose knew could more easily be achieved using an Engorgement Charm.

She often sat in the common room with Albus and James and worked on Transfiguring objects around them. That was a challenge- books were tricky because the words tended to stick around long after their pages had disappeared. Her greatest achievement thus far had been turning a book on magical birds into a duck whose back read "quack".

They arrived at Charms class, still discussing the ship. "I reckon Flitwick could put it back together with one of his charms," joked Albus as they sat. "Look at all of the stuff he's done!" He pointed to the wall behind where Flitwick usually stood.

Rose had never noticed, but the wall behind Flitwick's podium was decorated with marks of his accomplishments. Proudly on display were an assortment of colorful certificates, metals, and right in the middle of them all, hanging from a plain black string-

A key.