She hoped this woman’s presence was not a bad omen. The very sight of her was like staring The Grim in the face. If a horribly garish one.
Calliope opened her mouth as if to return the greeting - it would be clipped and disdainful, as much as the woman deserved - but the echo of her own name, Mrs. Zabini, would be like handing something over to her that she no longer merited, and she refused to do it. She could not recall the woman’s maiden name, either, so there was nothing to say.
About that, at least.
There was plenty she had said about Cosmo’s first wife in the presence of her friends, but none of those sentiments were any more flattering to the woman than that godawful sunshine-yellow dress.
“A wand might be a useful start,” Calliope said instead, the words thankfully under her breath, although her look was derisive enough by itself. The ex-wife must be quite deficient, for the door had done nothing with her spell, so Calliope repeated it emphatically, tapping her own wand to the door handle and testing it vigorously. Again, nothing.
“Ugh,” she huffed, as if the former Mrs. Zabini and the door were co-conspirators against her. If she had not wanted to get out of here and bask in her good news already, the presence of her in close proximity had certainly made opening the door a priority.
Calliope opened her mouth as if to return the greeting - it would be clipped and disdainful, as much as the woman deserved - but the echo of her own name, Mrs. Zabini, would be like handing something over to her that she no longer merited, and she refused to do it. She could not recall the woman’s maiden name, either, so there was nothing to say.
About that, at least.
There was plenty she had said about Cosmo’s first wife in the presence of her friends, but none of those sentiments were any more flattering to the woman than that godawful sunshine-yellow dress.
“A wand might be a useful start,” Calliope said instead, the words thankfully under her breath, although her look was derisive enough by itself. The ex-wife must be quite deficient, for the door had done nothing with her spell, so Calliope repeated it emphatically, tapping her own wand to the door handle and testing it vigorously. Again, nothing.
“Ugh,” she huffed, as if the former Mrs. Zabini and the door were co-conspirators against her. If she had not wanted to get out of here and bask in her good news already, the presence of her in close proximity had certainly made opening the door a priority.
