I’ve Been Here Before [Camila]

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

January 2027

You could never notice how different you’d become until you visited your old haunts. Bianca was quite talented at avoiding those comparisons, though, because she made it a point not to visit home too often. Her last visit to Chile, in fact, had been her father’s funeral, which meant there were plenty of reasons not to want to remember the visit or even the distant past from before she'd discovered she was a witch. But last January, the past had finally caught up to her. A 10-year reunion. Bianca had never felt old before – actually, she’d always found herself on the other end of the spectrum. Youngest department head in law enforcement’s history. Constantly surrounded by the other department heads that had at least a few years on her. But visiting Castelobruxo again last January, being surrounded by her old school friends who looked so different than she remembered and had families of their own…yeah, Bianca had started to feel her age for the first time. It had been a complete fish-out-of-water experience, because once upon a time Bianca had been exactly like them. The version of her that had attended school here wouldn't even recognize the woman she'd become now.

So…why was she back? Bianca tried not to sigh at the question as she dusted her robes off. The Portkey had left the group a stone’s throw away from the school, and she could see the golden temple in the distance and the magnificent waterfalls that tumbled down the sides and caught the sun's light. More than enough students had gotten detention over the years trying to enchant the water or ride down the steep decline…including her. That had been the holy grail of pranks, and Castelobruxo-Bianca hadn't cared about anything more than meeting the requirements for the Auror program and enjoying all the perks of the wizarding world. If she was being honest, really honest with herself, she didn’t mind the chance to visit again and really explore the school. Her reunion last year hadn't left much time for it, since she'd been out-of-touch for so long and everybody had wanted to know where she'd disappeared to. On the whole, Bianca had nothing but fond memories of her time at Castelobruxo – things had been simpler, less complicated. Being introduced to a whole world of magic and trying to fit in seemed like nothing compared to the last year of her life.

But she wasn’t naïve, and she knew exactly why alumni had been invited back for this weekend. A chance to show off all the famous witches and wizards that had passed through the school, and therefore a unique chance for fundraising. Bianca knew she was something of an oddity because she’d left Latin America completely to find her success in Europe. Not many in the tightknit Hispanic magical community did that. But she wasn’t here to be ogled at, so Bianca swiftly separated from the rest of the group to make the trek to Castelobruxo’s grand entrance hall alone. No part of her was interested in following the designated schedule, so she didn’t immediately make her way to the tables that had been set up – there’d be plenty of time later to accept a cheesy name tag and be herded like moon calves from place to place. No, instead her feet took her by instinct up a staircase and down a familiar corridor. Her common room should be around here somewhere. One whole side of the corridor was just open windows, and Bianca turned to intently study the view of the rainforest -- a sight both familiar and strange, something she hadn't laid eyes on for ages. A croak at her feet tore her attention away as she glanced down and raised an eyebrow at the chocolate frog that had made a valiant attempt at escape. The sight of a British snack in Brazil was odd, so Bianca bent down to snatch up the frog and look it over. Where had it come from?

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

It was sort of funny to Camila that she had been invited back to Castelobruxo. She had dropped out before she had completed her studies, choosing to pursue her music career instead, but apparently that didn't matter as long as the school could claim her as one of their alumni now that she was successful. She knew that it was more of a marketing opportunity for Castelobruxo, but it would also look good for her to be there. She hadn't become out of touch with the life she had had before skyrocketing to fame, and getting to see Castelobruxo again from the perspective of someone who never had to worry about examinations again would be nice.

Travel by Portkey was uncomfortable, but it could have been worse. Camila knew where they had landed—and she had actually landed on her feet. Surrounded by a group of others who were actually far more accomplished than she—Ministry officials, businesspeople—meant that she would take any chance not to embarrass herself. At just twenty, she was the youngest there by far.

There was a feeling of déjà vu about being back inside Castelobruxo itself, and Camila had wasted no time in grabbing a name tag so that she wouldn't be mistaken for one of the students. (She had had enough sense not to wear anything that might be mistaken for the green school robes, though, instead wearing a blouse and a pair of nice trousers.) With time to kill before the tour began, she snuck up the stairs to take a photo of the view of the rainforest. It had seemed like nothing to her when she had attended Castelobruxo, but her trip to Iguazú with Sienna almost a year before had reminded her that it wasn't as normal as she had felt it was.

Camila moved to get her phone but stopped when she noticed that her purse was halfway unzipped already. A Chocolate Frog that she'd stuck on the top at the last minute had come open, and the frog was nowhere to be found. She cursed under her breath, checking frantically that nothing else was missing. No, just the chocolate.

Hearing a telltale ribbit, Camila turned around. Standing not very far away was a woman she recognized as Bianca Rivera, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, holding the frog. Immediately, Camila zipped her purse and walked up to Bianca. At least she was the second-youngest of the alumni (or pseudo-alumni) there, which made it far less embarrassing to approach her than someone who could have been her mother or father.

"Madam Rivera, I am so sorry about the little frog! It must have come out of my purse," Camila apologized in Spanish, the MARÍA DEL CARMEN KIRCHNER CALDERÓN prewritten on her name tag an obvious contrast to her stage name. At least, for once, she didn't have to worry about being misunderstood. She could switch between Spanish and Portuguese without thinking about it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, by the way…" If there were an exam on first impressions, she knew that she would fail that for sure.

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

There was something to be said about the power of ghosts. Not the literal kind, although Castelobruxo had its fair share just like every other significant magical location. No, it felt like Bianca was surrounded by the ghosts of memories as she stood in the familiar corridor looking out over the familiar view. She used to pass through this corridor every day, wandering alone with her comic books or accompanied by a friend on their way to class or Quidditch. And never walking – always skipping along to find a comfortable reading spot, or running because she’d left her favorite quill in the common room. She felt the difference so starkly now, standing rigidly in the corridor in her perfectly pressed and professional skirt and blouse. She’d never been so rigid before the Ministry, and if she’d known what would happen…would she still have pushed so hard in school to join the Auror program?

It was these sorts of questions that made Bianca so cautious about revisiting her past. But that wasn’t the point of this visit, and she took a calming breath to help clear her mind. Last year had been difficult, in every sense of the word. She’d been pushed to her limits, and then pushed past those to cope with the fall of Hogwarts, the end of the Purifiers, and restoring a sense of security in the British community. It had felt like there was no end in sight, but things had stayed quiet. And now she’d passed an important milestone – one year since her promotion to Department Head. If she’d made it one year, then it had to be smooth sailing from here…right?

At any rate, she’d promised herself – and a number of concerned spectators in her life – that Bianca would try to take care of herself. Among other changes to her life, that meant shaking off the stress of work when she was on vacation and too far away to do anything. She wasn’t quite at the relaxation level of ‘I am a speck of dust in the ever-changing sands of the universe’…but maybe someday. Bianca turned the Chocolate Frog over in her hand idly as she turned away from the view to examine where it had come from. That question answered itself as a younger-looking witch came up to her, looking apologetic and zipping up her purse as she walked. Bianca was ready to hand over the frog and walk away (she always did value quiet time before the inevitable chaos) but her mouth dropped at the girl’s opening words.

So she knew who Bianca was, and she’d called her madam. Merlin, that made Bianca feel like a million years old, or even worse – like her mother. Ever the vigilant Auror, her eyes did a quick sweep to see what she was working with. There was no accent to the witch’s Spanish, and her name suggested Argentinian roots. But she looked young, and Bianca might have thought she was a student without the nametag. “No hay de que,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head as she handed over the Chocolate Frog to María del Carmen Kirchner Calderón. It felt odd to be recognized by someone she didn’t know – it happened often enough in the United Kingdom, but only in certain contexts. She wasn't exactly a celebrity. Continuing in Spanish, she felt compelled to add “But please, it’s Bianca…I don’t believe in all those formalities.” It was the culture in Latin America (respect your elders and all that) but the thought of being a madam already was daunting. Bianca cleared her throat slightly. “You’ve spent time in England recently?” She nodded at the sweets in the girl’s hands.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

Bianca Rivera handed her her Chocolate Frog back without telling her off in the way that Camila anticipated that she would and reassured her that it was nothing. She also added that she could call her Bianca and that she didn't believe in those kinds of formalities. Camila smiled a little and squeaked out a quick word of thanks, relieved that she hadn't just made a huge fool of herself in front of one of the top officials in the British Ministry of Magic. Bianca then looked towards the chocolate that she'd handed her.

"You've spent time in England recently?"

"Yes, um…" Camila, after stuffing the frog back in its box in her purse, looked down at her name as it was being presented to everyone else. "I'm Camila Calderón," she told Bianca in the least pretentious way she could manage, not that her being a celebrity was any secret. Bianca probably just hadn't recognized the legal name staring her in the face. "Calderón, that's my maternal surname, but most people here would know me as Carmen…" Camila didn't really know why she had chosen to go with "Camila" and not "Carmen" for her music career. It just happened that the flow of it sounded nicer like that. "But… yes." Bianca Rivera didn't want to hear all about her stage name; she could probably figure it out herself. "I've been living in London for some years now," Camila explained, going back to Bianca's actual question. "But please don't ask me to speak in English," she laughed softly. It was such a relief to speak in her native language. "My English is really horrible."

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

The witch looked relieved not to have been reprimanded for losing the Chocolate Frog, which only made Bianca feel ancient. She did have something of a reputation at the Ministry for being stern, which usually led to her rattling off snappy orders in her never-ending quest to maximize productivity. And yes, James Potter did have a terrible habit of being on the receiving end of Bianca’s scoldings when he came in with untidy robes or windswept hair (“this isn’t a catwalk, Potter”). But there was something about being fresh out of her ten-year reunion and dangerously close to hitting thirty that made Bianca smooth down her blouse and bite back any constructive criticism. She was not her mother, was not going to tell this witch off like she might for a disorderly student, and she was not past her prime.

At the name Camila Calderón, Bianca nodded her head as she recognized the young pop star. She’d never attended a concert, but it was impossible to read a magazine or pass a billboard without seeing evidence of the rising star. And suddenly the Chocolate Frog made sense, because Camila had done something quite similar to Bianca – left the Latin American nest to establish herself in Europe. Just in a very different field. Bianca couldn’t help but laugh under her breath at the familiar predicament of struggling with English. “Ah,” she said humorously, “I used to be ashamed of my accent…I would listen to the radio and try to change my voice. I even subscribed to the Daily Prophet when I was still here to practice my English.” She glanced around the corridor, remembering long evenings when she would sprawl across the floor of the common room with an outdated edition and read articles to anyone who would listen. Those days seemed so far away now.

Snapping back to attention, Bianca refocused on Camila. Eventually, Bianca had found that her different background was an asset. It was a shame to think Camila might be lost in self-doubt. “It becomes easier with time. Someday you'll surprise yourself with how much you know.” Castelobruxo had a lot of national pride, which meant its lessons were primarily in Portuguese and occasionally Spanish. They'd never offered any language classes, which was a shame for its students. The truth was that it was becoming impossible to succeed without some level of English, and Latin America was still far behind in that respect. She gave a light shrug as she added, “When they don’t encourage us to practice English, all they do is limit their students’ chance to succeed.” Bianca was silent for a moment as she considered her old Transfiguration professor, the one that had told Bianca's family she was a witch and become a mentor of sorts over the years. She had pushed Bianca so hard to expand her horizons, consider other Auror programs outside of Brazil and not limit her future. But that was rare, and most of her classmates had gone back home and stayed there after graduation. She supposed Camila might understand the impulse to grow, however; staying in Argentina would have been comfortable but Europe was still the center of the magical world. Still the gold standard for living a dream life.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

With a laugh that wasn't at all directed at her, Bianca told her that she used to be ashamed of her English, too, but she encouraged her that it would get easier with time. Camila knew that she was right; it had gotten easier for her, but she still had an obvious accent and stumbled over the right words to use in ways that wouldn't sound absurd to native speakers. It was stressful at times, and Bianca noted the lack of opportunity to practice English at Castelobruxo.

"If I had been a better student, maybe I would have been able to visit Hogwarts or Ilvermorny as an exchange student," Camila smiled, shaking her head. It was sort of amusing, in a way. She had ended up going on tour to the United States, and she had ended up in the United Kingdom for so long that it was basically her second home.

Bianca had become silent, though, and Camila waited for a few moments before she said anything more. "…Are you okay?" she wondered quietly. She felt a bit uncomfortable asking, given Bianca's authority, but Bianca was the one who had insisted upon the lesser degree of formality between them. Without waiting for a response, she fished the Chocolate Frog—in its box, that time—back out of her bag and offered it out to Bianca. "Here. Please take it," she said gently, making sure she held the box shut with her thumb to keep the frog from escaping for a second time. "The chocolate will help. Seriously."

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

There was a wry twist to Bianca’s lips as Camila smiled about losing the opportunity to be an exchange student. Bianca had found them exasperating during her time at school – one term in Europe and they suddenly thought they were the most fascinating people at Castelobruxo. Showing off their English, raving about the concerts they’d gone to or the ridiculously attractive European boys they’d dated. She had been skeptical at best, and rather snappy at the fact that she couldn’t have afforded anything like that herself. Her cauldron and robes and textbooks were all second-hand, and she’d been saving for her own broomstick too. A trip to Europe was out of the question in those days.

She raised an eyebrow at Camila’s tentative question. There were some people in her life who claimed Bianca didn’t know how to take care of herself and subsequently kept an eye on her day-to-day routine. Cade always reminded her to go to bed if it got too late, and Xiulan was persistent about asking if she’d had enough to eat. But it was strange to hear from a stranger, and someone a decade younger than her to boot. “Does it have Anti-Aging Potion?” she asked dryly, although she felt herself smile a little at the question. She took it anyway, turning the little packet over in her hands. Finally she shook her head and sighed. “I thought it would be better to visit alone, and visit all my old spots. All it’s done is remind me how much everything has changed. The tapestries, the professors…and me, I suppose.” She knew it was normal to change, and be a different person than you were growing up. In a sense, that was the only healthy thing to do.

But she also missed parts of who she’d been at Castelobruxo. The hope she’d had for the future, the naïve optimism that life would be good to her if she was a good person. And the silly innocence of the students – throwing tarts at each other in the Great Hall, giving each other fashion advice based on whatever actress was popular at the time. There were new and better things in her life, but she’d also forgotten how to just enjoy a moment for what it was instead of dreading what came next. After a moment, Bianca handed the Chocolate Frog back to Camila. “Trust me, you’ll need this after they finish parading you around like a prized hippogriff. Media events are so boring, aren’t they?” Oh, the honest things she could say when she wasn’t standing next to the Editor of the Prophet – not that she didn’t say it enough to his face anyway. But with all the attention she always got, Camila would have gotten it a thousand times worse. The price of success, right?

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

Bianca asked her if the Chocolate Frog that she had offered her contained an anti-aging potion, and Camila shook her head. She didn't think that Bianca needed one of those anyway; she wasn't that old, was she? She was old enough to be her sister but certainly not her mother. "I thought it would be better to visit alone, and visit all my old spots," Bianca told her with a sigh. "All it's done is remind me how much everything has changed. The tapestries, the professors… and me, I suppose."

Camila couldn't relate to feeling so old because of her being at Castelobruxo again, but she knew that she had changed since she had been a student there. Her career had reached heights she had never imagined, her living in London among those. She didn't have teachers scolding her for not paying attention in class anymore, and she didn't miss that. The simplicity of so many things, though? She did miss that, and she definitely missed her school friends.

She took the Chocolate Frog as Bianca handed it back to her, making sure that it was once again secure in her purse before letting go of it. "Trust me," assured Bianca, "you'll need this after they finish parading you around like a prized hippogriff. Media events are so boring, aren't they?"

It was surprising to hear to hear Bianca call media events boring, thought Camila. She must have done plenty of them, too, as a politician, though those events were probably stuffier. She at least got to have the occasional fun interview, something gimmicky that would draw her fans' attention. "They're okay," she admitted. It was better when the media had their ability to intrude only at scheduled times, but that obviously wasn't always the case. "I'm not a fan of the Caipora, but at least they keep the paparazzi out," Camila smiled. Even there at Castelobruxo, however, she fully expected that photos or videos from the students would end up on the World Wide Wizard Web. She had to laugh, too. "I probably should be nervous. I mean, I dropped out before graduating, but I guess I'm famous enough that they don't care anymore?" Being lumped in with people who had accomplished far more felt fraudulent, but Camila wasn't going to argue.

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

There were obvious differences between Bianca and Camila, but one that she could at least appreciate was that her high-profile status was only applicable in certain situations. The British magical community knew who their Head of Law Enforcement was, and Bianca had been in the news quite a bit since the Hogwarts fire. Some articles were complimentary, some were savage, but all of them caused her to value the privacy she could scrape together for herself. In Brazil, though? She was just another ex-student, someone who had come and gone and left a lasting impression in the row of Quidditch trophies on display and the ledger with all the students who’d been assigned detention. She could expect questions from the students about pursuing a career in law enforcement, but she could also take a breather and enjoy her vacation for what it was.

But Camila? No, her fame was 24/7 and it didn’t matter what part of the globe she was in. But the young pop star seemed to take it in stride. Bianca knew absolutely nothing about her – she wasn’t the right demographic for the teen magazines that reported on these things – but she seemed like a quiet and sweet girl. And her impulse to offer Bianca the chocolate she’d brought from halfway across the world said good things about her character. Bianca gave a hum of sympathy at the mention of the paparazzi. She supposed the journalists Cade sent to the Ministry, however persistent they might be, were still no match for the constant attention Camila was hounded by.

“You’re thinking too logically,” Bianca pointed out as she shook her head at Camila’s statement. It didn’t take much detective work to determine what the alumni committee’s thought process was, or why they’d invited the two of them from so far away. “They care about what helps them raise more money for the school.” Bianca shrugged. It was a cynical statement, but she'd never been a cheery optimist and one of her talents from her Auror days had always been to see the world for exactly what it was. Dark, unfair, but still something worth protecting. Anyway, she had her own reasons for accepting their invitation and visiting Brazil. “I don’t care. I came for a break from paperwork and the rain.” She'd been somewhat spoiled growing up by the weather in Chile, and London was notoriously known for being bleak -- even raining in the summer. They were entering the hottest months of the year in South America, but Bianca still found herself relaxed and enjoying the heat -- whenever she wasn't reminded of her age, at least.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

Bianca cautioned her that she was thinking too logically about her not holding "alumni" status, technically. The people in charge at Castelobruxo cared about what would help them raise more money for the school, although Bianca explained that that wasn't why she was there. No, she clarified; she was there because being in Brazil gave her a break from paperwork… and the rain.

"You chose the right place if you don't want rain," Camila replied, laughing lightly. Going to the rainforest to avoid the rain, on the face of it, did sound sort of bizarre. They weren't being drenched that day, though, and there was a considerable difference between being stuck in the rain when it was hot and humid outside and being stuck in the rain when it was cold and grey outside. "But I understand, really. It's a different feeling when everything is so gloomy," she continued. London had green spaces, but she didn't get to see very much of them, and she doubted that Bianca did, either.

"And I don't mind being here," Camila added. She wouldn't have come otherwise. That was one of the better things about being famous, in a way. If she wanted to get out of something, she could claim that she had a scheduling conflict of some sort, and it usually wasn't a lie. "I just feel a little bit like I'm still a student, you know?" It was weird being young and being thought of as successful. There was so much that she hadn't done, yet she was being seen as being on a level playing field with people who had been working at their careers for decades. Obviously, she was an exception; most people didn't just skyrocket to fame, but it didn't keep her from feeling like an impostor.

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

Bianca and Camila exchanged a look of understanding about the gloomy weather in London, and the shared sympathy did help to slightly loosen the tension in Bianca’s chest. It was quite easy to feel different, because most people simply didn’t do what she or Camila had done. They stayed in their countries of origin, even the same cities, and were always surrounded by people who looked and sounded and thought like them. Bianca had felt how different she was from the first moment she’d set foot in London – because of her accent, and the contrast between her and the pale English, and even the way they viewed and interacted with magic. But as strange as Bianca’s journey had been, she wasn’t the only one and she supposed Camila would have a better idea than most of what it meant to go somewhere new alone.

“I can cope with the rain,” Bianca agreed after a moment’s consideration, “The problem is the temperature. I’m always cold.” Even in the summer, and especially in the winter, Bianca was always more layered up than the crazy Londoners who seemed to think twenty degrees was boiling. She rolled her eyes a little at the thought, but let it go a moment later. The humidity in Brazil was more than she’d been used to for the last decade, but Bianca still let herself sink into the warm atmosphere and let the suffocating tropics completely encompass her. Some of the lines of tension in her face had begun to relax in the few days since Bianca had been here already.

It seemed like the two women mostly understood each other, but Bianca still quietly contemplated Camila’s last words. After a moment, she shook her head slightly. “This was my home for seven years, but…it feels like a different me that was here. Like those memories belong to someone else,” she replied honestly, letting her gaze sweep across the corridor again. The memories were still crystal clear, and she could remember running to Quidditch practice with her friends and gloomily finishing her Charms homework in the library. She’d loved going to school here, and it was still one of the best times in her life. But no, she didn’t feel like she belonged at Castelobruxo anymore – like she wasn’t quite Latina enough to continue in her old home, but wasn’t quite English enough to fit in with the rest of London. It was an odd place to be.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

Bianca changed her mind slightly, saying that she could handle the rain; it was the temperature that was the issue. Camila grimaced a little, because she could totally relate. London got colder than she was used to, too, though at least the winter weather wasn't worse. There were a lot of places that got heavier snow, but London fortunately wasn't one of them. They'd be back to the cold, though, soon enough.

When she expressed that being at Castelobruxo made her feel like she was still a student there, Bianca said that it felt to her as though a different version of herself had been there, as though the memories she had belonged to someone else. Camila had come to know a lot of people who had dealt with various traumatic experiences, but she got the sense that it wasn't totally something of that nature that had prompted Bianca's comment. It was just time, she imagined, and growing up.

Hearing her say that made Camila realize that she had changed quite significantly since she had last been to her old school, too. She really hadn't been Camila Calderón there, for one. She hadn't gone on tour to numerous other countries beyond Argentina and Brazil—the United States, even! And she hadn't been to England then; she couldn't have imagined it, despite being a fan of the Weird Sisters. "It's like living two lives," she stated. There was her life before fame, and then there was everything that came after it. Though she wasn't a politician, she reasoned that some elements must have been the same for Bianca. Castelobruxo would never be exactly as they remembered it, except maybe inside a Pensieve.

"I wouldn't want a Time-Turner, though." Camila shook her head. Doing something like that would get too complicated—and potentially dangerous to go back years in time. "I don't know if I can describe it, you know?" Even in Spanish, the words escaped her. "There's something nice in… sharing this experience," Camila admitted. Maybe that sounded too cheesy. "I mean, I don't know many Latinas living in London," she continued. There were other foreigners aplenty, but it wasn't the same, not to mention that she couldn't exactly hang out with perfect strangers. "And meeting someone who understands what my life is like, just a bit, it's less—I don't know—isolating?"

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

Any mention of Time-Turners never failed to exasperate Bianca, mostly because it fed that little seed of dissatisfaction with being left out of a secret. By all official accounts, those blasted things had all been destroyed decades ago – and the official account should be the end of the story. But there was a little shiver of disbelief that always shot through Bianca in those conversations with Felix when he stuttered a little and fell into silence whenever work came up – and a flash of suspicion that maybe the story wasn’t over after all. Yes, she hated the Department of Mysteries with a passion (and it was only 65% related to Asher Burke) and she couldn’t help the little eye roll now. But Camila didn’t need to know anything about it – not that there was really anything to know – so Bianca hummed a little and agreed whole-heartedly, “Some things are more trouble than they’re worth.”

But what Camila was describing rang true, at least when Bianca could be honest that it was impossible to ever completely fit in with a new society. She’d done well for herself in Britain – fought to the top of the Ministry food chain, found friends and love and all the daydreams she’d entertained in these same halls as a young girl. But it didn’t give her the same sense of being home, and Bianca certainly never seemed to encounter many others that were ‘like her.’ Leo had been a rare find, in that sense, and it had led to a close bond much faster than their diametrically opposed personalities would have allowed otherwise. “I understand,” Bianca said as she listened to Camila’s hesitant thoughts. Contrary to what you might expect from a pop star, Camila seemed shy. A little lonely, searching for a point of connection with the people around her.

Bianca hesitated a moment, but then she made up her mind. She and Leo had been such completely different people, but they’d bonded over being foreign Spanish-speakers at the Ministry. Since then he’d become her closest friend, even if she suspected they’d been keeping secrets from each other. So Bianca pulled out her card, turned it over neatly and withdrew a pen from her bag. Pens somehow hadn’t replaced quills in the magical world just yet, but Bianca never went anywhere without – she didn’t have the patience to be constantly dipping her quill into an inkpot. She scribbled a number in neat writing across the back, then offered it to Camila. “Call me when you’re back in London, if you ever need anything. Or if you just want dinner with real empanadas and to hear Spanish.” She spoke in a crisp professional tone, the same as she always did, but Bianca hoped Camila would see the offer was genuine. Emotion was hard for her to express, but she understood everything the other girl had said. Community was important and it needed to be made, not found.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

January 2027

It was pleasant to converse with Bianca and becoming more and more as though they had known each other for far longer than just a few minutes. As their conversation continued, though, Bianca pulled out what was obviously a business card and a pen. It was clearly a non-magical pen and not a quill, which drew Camila's interest—not because she had never seen one up close before, as might have been the case for some magical people, but because her own father was non-magical. Very few witches and wizards seemed to use regular pens, even if they had come from less magical backgrounds. (Then again, true pure-bloods were harder and harder to come by. Most people, even those who came from established wizarding families, had some non-magical blood in them.)

Bianca used the pen to write something on the back of the business card, and Camila realized that it was a phone number. "Call me when you’re back in London, if you ever need anything. Or if you just want dinner with real empanadas and to hear Spanish."

Gently taking the business card from her, Camila nodded. "Thank you very much," she replied, slightly stunned. "I'll put it in my phone now so I don't forget." She had attended events where government officials were in attendance before, but it was different to converse with them about something other than, say, the weather. "You're not a pure-blood either?" she asked Bianca curiously, going off of the pen she'd used. At least, it seemed to be the case. "My father is a Muggle, and I attended a non-magical primary school in Argentina before Castelobruxo," Camila volunteered. It wasn't something that she'd ever hidden, but it also didn't come up very often.

Bianca Alia Rivera

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

The longer the conversation continued, the more it became obvious that Camila and Bianca had been inhabiting completely different worlds these last few years. The young girl was polite and respectful, eager to make conversation, and didn’t immediately drive the conversation into ‘favors and advice’ – which Bianca was never too thrilled about. There was a thick air of competition between the Department Heads, always battling over attention and resources from the Minister and striving to make their point over the dozen other dissenting opinions in the room. And from the rest of her Department – well, Bianca had tiredly gotten used to the yes-men who would say anything in hopes of advancing their career, and on the other end of the spectrum the stubborn old-timers that wouldn’t change a thing from how their captains had done it ‘back in the day.’

But that was wonderfully absent here, and it made Bianca reflect that maybe, maybe she’d been spending too much time at work. Either way, she raised her eyebrow at Camila’s question about her blood status. Bianca had thought her background was quite public, what with the criticism from pureblood circles and praise for her pro-Muggle task force. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on whether the Head of Law Enforcement should be given to a Muggleborn or not. “Mm, Muggleborn,” Bianca finally confirmed, giving a tight shrug of her shoulders like it didn’t matter much one way or another to her. She listened to Camila’s explanation – it was rare to hear a witch admit that she had a non-magical parent – then gave a nod of understanding.

“So you must not have an overdependence on magic. That’s good for you,” Bianca said approvingly, mind wandering to the idle habits of most wizards to overuse their wands instead of their feet or minds. She’d taken points off during Auror training in the past whenever trainees tended to rely on magical solutions whenever there was a readily available non-magical alternative. It required creativity, and that was not easily found at times. Her attention drifted down to her phone at the special ringtone she’d reserved for one of her coworkers at the Ministry – one of the other Department Heads, since the Minister never seemed to take initiative or contact them first. She checked, noted the nickname she’d chosen for the Head of Magical Games and Sports, then promptly turned it off. “Nobody respects vacation time anymore,” she grumbled as she slipped the phone back into her bag. A more likely story might just be that nobody could believe she'd actually taken time off.

camila calderón