𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝑀𝑒𝓁𝑜𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈 - Remus Lupin

01- she likes oranges

•✩✩•♡•✩✩•

01. SHE LIKES ORANGES

Sixth year had rolled in fast and Calypso couldn't believe she now only had two years left at Hogwarts. How strange it was that she could remember sitting upon that very same stool that the new first years now perched upon and still feel the same wonder that consumed her then as it did now.

The hall was alight with magic. Hundreds of flickering candles floated high above their heads and the four tables for each house stretched across the hall. The familiar feel of the uneven slabs of stone beneath her feet and the sight of joyous faces made her smile.

Oh how she had missed Hogwarts.

As Headmaster Dumbledore made his speech she let her chin rest upon her hands. His silvery voice was laced with age and he spoke in strange riddles, often going completely off point but Calypso didn't mind, in fact she thought it was awfully endearing.
She listened to each and every name that was called out and watched with rapt fascination, as she always did, as students were placed in their houses. She clapped and cheered, laughed, and ate till her belly was bursting.

The welcome feast at Hogwarts was something she loved. The food was always tasty, the flavours were rich and the drinks were smooth. The house elves had seemingly outdone themselves this year because Calypso swore she had never eaten anything as good, though her sisters homemade cherry pie came close.

"Say," Anita Haywood suddenly said from beside her, her voice amused. "Do you think Martin could stuff anymore jam tarts into his mouth?"

Calypso couldn't help it, she glanced down the Ravenclaw table, her eyes scanning over faces upon faces until she stopped at Martin Brown.

Poor, poor Martin had oozing red jam smeared all over his face, a tart in his mouth and another in his left hand. His eyes were closed in pure bliss but the first years around him could only gawk as he shovelled yet another into his mouth. But he didn't seem to care– Martin was happy in his own world of jam tarts.

Calypso swallowed a laugh and gave Anita a knowing look.

"He'll be awfully sick tonight, I don't envy his friends." And then Calypso picked a jam tart from her own plate. "But I must say I think Martin has the right idea."

She bit into the tart and instantly her mouth flooded with the sweet taste of strawberry jam. She almost moaned.

"They're so good, Ani." Gesturing to the pile that lay before them she urged her friend on. "You need to try one."

Anita let out an indulgent laugh but grabbed a jam tart for herself and plopped the whole thing into her mouth, not a crumb was lost in the process. Calypso felt a bubble of laughter rise up from her chest at the triumphant look in her friends eyes.

"And that is how it's done sweet Calypso." She said with a flourish as she swallowed the tart. Though her words were muffled, the heart was there.

And that really was the best way to describe Anita Haywood. 

She was tall –taller than Calypso– she often towered over boys their age and she had legs like a ballet dancer. Her blonde hair was always tied back into a sleek ponytail and her eyes sparkled like diamonds. But it was her words that cut sharper than steel.