Chapter 55: 38
Year 4, Chapter 3
"You're stressing the wrong syllable," Percy Weasley said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's Err-ecemo Acus, not Er-eecemo."
Calista scowled, and mimicked his voice, casting the incantation at the caged hedgehog on the table between them.
They were in the Transfiguration classroom, because Professor McGonagall had only a limited supply of hedgehogs, and for some reason, she seemed to think that Calista might loose her hedgehog in the library if she were allowed to take it out of the classroom. Calista had a good idea where she had gotten that idea from, and she was glaring over the top of the hedgehog cage at him, now.
"Oh, look, nothing happened when I did it your way, either," she pointed out.
"Because you're not staying calm, look, of course you're magic's going to behave erratically if you're behaving that way, right?"
"I'm not behaving erratically," she said, "I'm annoyed. They're two completely different things."
"I'm telling you, all of this would be so much easier if you could just calm down -"
"That's what people keep telling me," she remarked. "But you know, every time I finally get a spell to work, I'm right cross with whatever it is I'm trying to transfigure. I… I call things names in my head, and it seems to help."
Percy frowned quizzically. "What sort of names?"
"Like… hm. All right, you pathetic excuse for a mammal, get all soft and pillowy!"
She waved her wand and said the incantation experimentally. Nothing happened.
"I see," Percy said, stuffily. "Perhaps we can just go back to studying the proper way, then?"
"You're such a bore sometimes." Calista said, rolling her eyes.
"What happened to that bit where you weren't going to be mean anymore?"
She shifted her glare to the hedgehog, who sat there look quite pleased with all of his … hedgehogness.
"That happened," she said. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at it.
Percy sighed. "Can we just get through this, please?"
She lifted her wand again, resigned to another dull hour that was likely to be utterly fruitless.
Tutoring sessions with Percy often went more or less the same; she would try and try, with increasing frustration, for several sessions in a row, and then, finally, seemingly out of nowhere, the spell would work. Her excitement, though, was nearly always short-lived, because it often took her several more sessions before she could get the spell to work consistently. It was very frustrating for her, because she was used to catching on quickly - but at least now, she knew she was capable of catching on at all.
Homework in general was much more intense in fourth year, supposedly in preparation for the next year's O.W.L. examinations. She and Amelia often had to get passes from their Heads of House to be in the library late into the evenings, working on Arithmancy, and Calista found that, once the school year had really picked up, she had difficulty finding enough time to write any extra essays for Charms, so her ideas stirred, stilted, in the back of her mind.
She had yet to nail down a specific time to meet her father for any extra Potions lessons, but then, if she was being honest, she was delaying and hedging, because even though she did miss spending that time with him, she knew that the more time she spent with him, the more likely he was to guess what was going on between her and Marcus.
Considering all of this, she should have been eagerly anticipating the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, but in reality she was dreading it. For one thing, she wanted to go somewhere with Marcus, but sometimes her father went to Hogsmeade, and even if he didn't, what if someone saw them hanging around together and mentioned to to him? Perhaps he would be unconcerned, if they were merely seen together, but Calista had a feeling that any time she spent alone with Marcus was going to culminate in them kissing, and she definitely didn't want that being reported back to her father. Nevermind that he would be angry, it would also be humiliating.
The other reason Calista was dreading the first Hogsmeade weekend was even more complicated. She had determined that she had to tell her closest friends, Amelia, Penny, and Percy, about her mother before Olivia changed her mind, and she had kept putting it off by telling herself she'd wait until they were all together in Hogsmeade.
The problem with that was that the day they would all be together in Hogsmeade was approaching quickly, and when it arrived, she still wasn't prepared.
Marcus did want to go somewhere with her, to the Three Broomsticks or to look around in the shops - she suspected they wanted to go to different shops, though - but she was worried that it might seem suspicious if they went into Hogsmeade together, so she told him they should go separately, and meet up in the Three Broomsticks later on. He hadn't seemed very pleased with her plan, but he'd agreed to it, and he went into the village with his friends from the Quidditch team, while she met up with Amelia, Penny, and Percy in the Entrance Hall.
All too soon, she was sitting at a snug little table with them. At least it was a small table, so she wouldn't have to shout to them. Percy and Penny were bickering good-naturedly about a recent chess match, while Amelia and Calista went up to get them all butterbeers.
"So, I have to tell you guys something…" Calista said quietly to Amelia, while they were waiting.
"Yeah?" Amelia asked, with a sly grin. "Is it about you and Marcus?"
"No, definitely not. It's… it's something bad. Something that might… it might make you not like me anymore."
Amelia snorted. "Unless it's that you've decided to stop hanging out with us and go back to that snot Olivia, I don't think that's possible."
"Yeah, we'll see…"
Madam Rosmerta collected their money, and set four bottles down on the bar; Calista and Amelia grabbed them, and carried them back to their table, sliding back into their seats after distributing them.
"But it makes far more sense, in that particular case, to sacrifice your bishop, rather than your rook," Percy was saying, and Penny was shaking her head impatiently.
"In the short term, perhaps, but not when you've got -"
"Guys." Amelia said, "Shut it. Calista has something to tell us."
Calista scowled. "I didn't mean right now," she muttered, but now they were all looking at her expectantly. She sighed, and looked over her friends' heads, to see if Marcus had come in yet. maybe if she showed up right now, she could put off telling them a little longer… but he didn't.
"It's… it's something I really didn't want anyone to know," Calista started. "I mean… I guess I have to tell you now, because Olivia knows and she might… I mean, she says she won't, but I don't trust that cow-"
"Erm," Percy said, "Sorry, but what are you talking about?"
Calista sighed, and braced herself. She took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders.
"It's… my mother. The reason I… the reason I never talk about her is because… because I hate her. I mean, I never see her, and I don't want to, so I don't want you to think… but she's…"
She swallowed. This was more difficult than either of the other two times she'd told someone. She wasn't sure if it was because she was telling three of them at once, or if it was some sort of sign that they weren't going to take it as well as either Tonks or Marcus had.
They were all looking at her, expectantly; a small frown creased Percy's face.
"She's Bellatrix Lestrange," she managed, finally, and she was sorely tempted to slink under the table then, so she wouldn't have to see their reactions.
Their reactions, as it happened, were mixed. Penny's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open slightly. Percy looked horrified, and that was the most difficult one. Amelia… well, Amelia stared back at her blankly.
"I'm sorry," Amelia said, wrinkling her nose. "Who?"
"I'm not saying it again," Calista said, miserably.
"No, I heard you, I just… I don't know who that is. Am I supposed to?"
"But," Percy said, earnestly. "Calista, that means… your dad… is he… is he…?"
"He has nothing to do with her anymore," Calista said, "They weren't even together when I was born. And he's nothing like her, trust me."
"I hope not," Percy said, "Imagine having someone like that teaching at Hogwarts. I suppose Dumbledore would never allow it, though, if they were… you know, affiliates."
"Percy," Penny admonished. "Don't you think that's a bit insensitive? Look, she's obviously worried how we'll react, and you're asking her if her Dad was a follower of -"
"Please," Calista implored, "Don't say it."
"I wasn't going to say his name," Penny said.
"Just don't say it at all," Calista said, quietly. "It's not true, anyway. He's not."
"Okay," Amelia said impatiently, "Is someone going to tell me what's going on here? Who's Bellat-"
"Shh!" Calista said, because Amelia was speaking louder than Calista was comfortable with.
"Bellatrix Lestrange," Penny said quietly, "Is one of You-Know-Who's most infamous followers. She's… she's in Azkaban, for a whole list of crimes related to that."
"My dad told me she's one of the most vicious ones," Percy added, apprehensively. "They caught her torturing some Aurors, and she just sat there at her trial, gloating about how You-Know-Who was going to reward her when…" he swallowed. "When he came back."
"Did you…" Penny asked Calista, cautiously, while Amelia processed this new information, "Did you ever see her… uhm, hurting someone?"
Calista gritted her teeth. "Yes," she said, shortly. "And don't ask me any more about it, I don't want to talk about it."
"Well," Percy said uncomfortably, "Naturally, we're curious, Calista… it's a bit of a shock, you know?"
Calista wanted to disappear, but then Amelia surprised her, by shoving Percy's shoulder roughly, and rolling her eyes.
"Come on, Perce!" she said, "The reason it's a shock is because obviously Calista's nothing like her mother - we know that, and that's all we need to know. Forget about this Bella-whatsit person, Calista's still just the same as she was before she told us."
"I suppose…" Percy began.
"Good," Amelia finished. "Then I suppose it's time we talk about something else."
They moved on, although their conversation was stilted and uncomfortable for a few minutes, before Percy and Penny got back into their chess debate, and then everything felt almost normal again.
Calista felt a huge swell of positive emotion for Amelia, and she caught her eye. "Thank you," she mouthed silently. She hoped Amelia could tell how grateful she really was.
Amelia smiled, and lifted her butterbeer. "Cheers," she said.
A few minutes later, Marcus did come into the pub; he was much taller than many of the other students, so he stood out immediately. Calista saw him looking around a bit, and then he saw them. He came over to their table, and stood right beside Calista's chair. He leaned close to her, and she was afraid he was going to kiss her here, in front of the whole pub; she shook her head quickly, and inched backward from him.
Marcus scowled. "So… do you want to hang out with me?" he asked, "Or should I just go?"
"Marcus, of course I want to…"
"Doesn't look that way."
"I'm sorry," she told him quietly, for what felt like the umpteenth time, "I just don't want my dad to -"
"Yeah, I know," he said, "I keep wondering, though, if you would be less nervous about telling him if it was someone else instead of me…"
"That's ridiculous," Calista said, "It has nothing to do with that, trust me. He won't let me go out with anyone."
"I dunno," he said, and for some reason, he aimed a glare at Percy. "I feel like it might be personal."
Percy, unfortunately, noticed the look Marcus had given him, and he returned it with an icy one of his own.
"Can I help you, Flint?" Percy asked, pointedly.
Marcus hulked next to Calista, looking surly. Amelia rolled her eyes.
"You guys better go," she observed, looking at Calista, "Before Percy and your boyfriend start hexing each other."
Calista nodded, and slid off her chair; they were walking away just when Percy said, dumbfounded: "Huh? Her boyfriend? You aren't serious, are you?"
Well. It seemed he hadn't known, then. For some reason, this really seemed to irritate Marcus. He was walking fast, when they stepped out onto the High Street.
"Hey, slow down," Calista called after him, "Your legs are a lot longer than mine are."
"Oh, I thought maybe you wanted it to look like we just happened to be walking in the same direction," Marcus said, but he did slow down to let her catch up.
"Come on, that's not fair…"
"All of my friends know about us," Marcus said. "I know you keep saying this thing about not wanting your dad to find out -"
"Shh!"
"-But it kind of seems like you don't want anyone to find out."
"Marcus, it's not that, come on."
"Maybe I should sign up for Arithmancy," he said, and Calista was surprised to hear a strong sort of emotion clouding his voice; was he sad? Or… well, it was something besides simply being annoyed. "Maybe then you wouldn't be embarrassed to tell people you're with me."
"Marcus," she said, and she reached for his hand, to stop him from walking. They were near the mouth of an alley; she was tempted to pull him a ways along it, but it didn't quite seem like the wisest of ideas, just now. "I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I promise I'm not. That doesn't even make any sense, you're the popular one, you should be embarrassed to be with me."
"I'm the popular one?" Marcus wondered. "What's that supposed to mean? You have loads of friends, and they're all so bloody clever, I can't stand it."
"But you have the Quidditch team," she pointed out, "And everyone in Slytherin likes you, you have plenty of friends."
"That's not the point," Marcus said, exasperated. "I don't care… I just… it's hard not to think that you're ashamed of being with me, when you don't even tell all your clever Arithmancy friends about us."
"I told you," she wailed. "It's because of my dad."
"The thing is," he said, quietly, and he reached for her other hand, so he was holding both of them. "When I first told you I liked you, I said I could handle your dad being cross if you could, and you said yeah. What happened to that?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I just… I didn't expect everything would feel so… I dunno, it's like it's real now, and at first it felt like it was just a dream or something. Making my dad cross didn't seem like such a big deal when it was just a dream, you know?"
"Okay." Marcus exhaled. "I wasn't gonna tell you this, 'cause I knew you'd freak out, but… your dad asked me the the other day about us."
Calista felt the colour drain from her face. "What?!"
"Yeah," Marcus said, "He used to make these comments to me all the time, whenever he was correcting me in class, nothing specific but like, I swore he knew something was up. But then I've gotten much better in Potions lately - partly studying with you, and partly just concentrating really hard on the directions, so your dad didn't have an excuse to hang around my cauldron…"
"What did he say?" Calista pressed.
"I'm getting to that," Marcus said. "So I got my potion right, but he still came up to me and asked to see me after class. So I went up to him, y'know, after everyone else left… and he just goes, 'Is there anything I should be aware of regarding yourself and my daughter, Mr. Flint?' all scary-like."
"Oh no," Calista moaned. "You didn't… you didn't tell him, did you?"
"No, I didn't," Marcus said, grimly. "I was going to, but then… you know, I know you're worried about it, and I didn't want to get you in trouble with him, so I just pretended I had no idea what he was talking about… but he made this face, Calista, I don't think he believed me."
"Okay," Calista said, trying to calm herself. "Next time, you have to… you have to make sure that you're not thinking about me around him, he just knows things sometimes…"
"I dunno," Marcus said, doubtfully. "I'm not very good at secrets, remember?"
"Well, I am."
"Obviously," he muttered, darkly.
She glared at him, but she immediately regretted it, because he didn't get angry in response the way she expected him too; instead, he just looked sad.
"Come on, Calista," he said, "I don't want this. I don't want to be cross with each other, okay? And I don't want to have to act like I'm doing something wrong by being with you. I like you, and you like me, so what's the problem? Why does your dad hate me so much?"
"He doesn't hate you… he won't, until he knows about us. Which is exactly what I'm trying to prevent, don't you get that? I don't want him to tell me that I can't be with you, because… because then, well, I can't."
"I dunno," Marcus said glumly, "It sure seems like he hates me."
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Calista walked back to the castle with Marcus, because it seemed like the only way to placate him. As soon as they reached the Entrance Hall, though, she insisted that they separate, even though they were going to the same place.
Portia was giving her a funny look all the way back to the common room, which she tried her best to ignore; wouldn't her and Olivia ever get tired of hating her? She knew she got tired of hating them, especially after she had realised how twisted Olivia's worldview evidently was.
In a strange sort of way, Calista thought she almost pitied Olivia - or would have, if Olivia wasn't such a difficult person to sympathise with. Where had Olivia gotten the idea that her only currency was in being pretty? She was a bright enough student, perhaps even exceptional in Transfiguration; Calista didn't like Olivia, but she could recognise that about her. She could be amusing, too, when she wasn't being petty and vindictive. How had she come to the conclusion that the only thing that mattered was what was on the outside?
It had never even occurred to Calista to think about what she looked like until she met those horrible girls in the orphanage, years ago, and even then, it hadn't seemed to matter. It was Olivia who had finally managed to make her feel badly about the way she looked, but still, Calista couldn't imagine placing the same importance on it that Olivia did. She might try to do a bit more with her hair now, but the fact of the matter remained that Calista was always going to place priority on a new extra credit essay for Flitwick, or learning a new potion, over something as trivial as what she looked like.
Musing over these things, she arrived in the common room at nearly the same time as Marcus, anyway. She spent the rest of the evening carefully avoiding him, which she suspected was just as difficult for her as it was for him. Of course she wanted to spend time with him without worrying about what other people thought, but what they had seemed preferable to not spending any time with him at all.
She was preoccupied for much of Sunday and Monday, both with fear that her father had actually asked Marcus if there was anything going on between them, and with a mild twist in her gut that would occur, occasionally, whenever she thought about Olivia.
She couldn't help but picture Olivia reading her letters from Marcus, getting amusement from them. She wasn't sure which she felt more strongly, anger or humiliation, but either way, it sent an uncomfortable heat racing through her skin to think of it. And then, of course, there was still the fact that Olivia knew who Calista's mother was, and even though Calista had finally told the people she cared about the most, she still didn't want everyone to know, even if Olivia did think it would make the Slytherins like her more, for some reason.
She was actually glad for the distraction of another tutoring session with Percy on Monday afternoon, even though she made precisely zero progress on turning her hedgehog into a pincushion. She was even gladder for the time she was meant to spend in the Charms classroom, in case anyone needed help.
A first-year Hufflepuff girl, the same one who had had trouble with her Levitation Charm, came back. This time she needed help with magical Locking and Unlocking, and while Calista was helping her, it was difficult not to think of the last essay she had written for Flitwick, about the charms. All the while she was helping the younger girl practise on the classroom door, her mind was racing, considering the ways in which she might try to adapt the Secret rune into some sort of ritual.
When the Hufflepuff girl left, Calista took a sheet of parchment from her schoolbag and started to jot down more notes, more ideas she had in relation to it. When her two hours was up, she had nearly filled one side of the parchment.
She was supposed to check in with Professor Flitwick to let him know who she'd tutored, if anyone, and probably, although he never said that was the reason, so he could make sure that all of the peer tutors actually showed up when they were supposed to. She knocked on his office door, even though it was ajar.
"Come in, come in," he called from within, and Calista pushed the door open a little further and stepped into his office.
"Ah, good afternoon, Miss Snape," he said, cheerfully. It looked like he was correcting essays at his desk; he wondered if he was correcting essays from her class.
"Hello, Professor Flitwick," she said. She still had her scrawled-over sheet of parchment in her hand. "I only had one person again, Eliza Miffkin. We worked on Locking and Unlocking Charms, I think she's got it now."
"Ah, yes," Professor Flitwick said. "She mentioned before that you were quite helpful. I'm pleased that you were able to assist." He smiled. "Is that another essay you're working on, there?"
"Yeah," she said, 'Well… I mean, it's kind of the same one still, I guess. With the rune, you know, for 'Secret'. I've been trying to find other ones, where the rune looks like the wand movement, but it's sort of hard to find, just because there're so many runes to look through, from all different languages and time periods, and all that."
Flitwick nodded. "Ah, yes, that does seem daunting."
"Maybe I'll just see another one by chance, like I did with this one," she said, hopefully. "That could give me another direction to go in."
"A lot of innovative developments in magic happened by chance, you know," Flitwick mused enthusiastically. "Although… hm. Do you recall, my dear, your essay on the Silencing Charm?"
She nodded. "Yeah, that was how I first started thinking about wandless magic, and rituals, and things."
"What if you approached this rune project in that same fashion?" he suggested. "Begin with the ritual, and then you can cross-reference related words for their runes. It will still be a good deal of research, but I imagine it will go a bit faster that way."
"Erm… yeah, wow, that makes a lot more sense," she said, and she felt a bit silly now that he had said it. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."
"Well, even the best of us do get a little bit blinded by the excitement of our own pet projects, hm? I know I have fallen victim to the same thing many times myself… the important thing, of course, is that we keep trying to learn, yes?"
She nodded. "I'm going to start researching it that way - maybe right now, actually, I bet there's something in the library…"
"Ah, but perhaps I can save you that trip," Flitwick squeaked, and he stood up on his chair, perusing the bookshelf next to his desk. "Let's see, let's see… Ah, yes, here it is."
He pulled a thick volume off his shelf, and held it out to her, beaming. "Slinkhard's better known for his works on Magical Theory, but he wrote this fascinating history book, too, on the evolution of the wand. The beginning sections talk about pre-wand magic, and I'm certain there were fairly thorough descriptions of some ancient charms rituals in there. Take a look at it, and see if you find anything you can use."
She took the book, and examined the cover. Wandlore Through The Ages, by Wilbert Slinkhard. She flipped the cover over, and scanned the contents. It did look as if there was a good deal of material inside about pre-wand spells; she felt the familiar buzzing of excitement in her mind when she knew she had something new or interesting to study.
"Thanks, Professor," she said, "I'll be careful with it - this looks really good."
Professor Flitwick smiled fondly at her. "I know you will. I'm looking forward to that essay."
She grinned, slipping the book carefully into her bag. "Me, too. I know it's probably mental, but… I really like writing them."
"Ah, it's not mental at all, my dear," the tiny professor said, good-naturedly. "It just goes to show that you would make an excellent Ravenclaw, just as I've always suspected."
She beamed, knowing it was a compliment from the man who adored the students in his own House. "Thanks," she said, again.
It was only after she had left his office, that Olivia's words came back to her.
The darling of half the professors in this school, Olivia had accused her of being.
Well, she didn't think that was quite true; and if it was, so what? There was nothing at all wrong with being thought of as a good student. Perhaps that did make her something of a Ravenclaw. Nor for the first time, Calista wondered if she would have been happier, there. She would have had Amelia and Penny for roommates, instead of Portia and Olivia.
But then, most of the time, she liked having her father for her Head of House, and she liked a good deal of the people in Slytherin, too. She wondered, though. She didn't feel much like the same girl that had been Sorted. Would the hat choose differently now, if she were to try it on again?
When she arrived back in her common room, she checked the time. It was only four-thirty; she still had an hour until dinner, more than enough time to start reading the book Flitwick had lent her. She chose a study table in the common room, and flipped to the first chapter.
She was several pages in, when she sensed someone approaching her; she looked up, and still, her heart sped up a little when she realised it was Marcus.
"Hey," he said, "I was thinking… maybe we could meet up in the Owlery again later?"
"Yeah," she said, unable to resist smiling at him. "Yeah, let's do that."
"Seven's good again?"
She nodded. Then she saw Portia, standing behind Marcus, and obviously eavesdropping. She narrowed her eyes into a glare.
"Get lost, Macnair," she said, firmly.
Portia returned her glare, and then made a beeline for Olivia, who was holding court on one of the big black sofas with her third-year fanclub. Calista tried hard not to imagine what Portia might be whispering in Olivia's ear.
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Severus sat in his office, marking papers. It was well past his regular office hours, but he preferred to use his office for all of his professorial duties, so that when he did retire to his quarters, it felt like he was off the clock.
Occasionally, a student would come to him, when he was in his office after hours. More often than not, that student would be his daughter, and her visits in particular, he didn't mind; especially not when they were voluntary, a surprise, and not because she was in some sort of trouble. Unfortunately, visits from her that met all three of those criteria had dwindled again, of late, to nearly nothing.
For a while, between Christmas break and April of last school year, she had spent a lot of voluntary time with him; but then, when the weather turned, she had come less and less frequently in between her required lessons, and this term, she had hardly been to see him at all, except for when he mandated it. When she did come, she was often moody and evasive, and generally not particularly pleasant to be around.
The frustrating part to Severus was that she seemed to genuinely think that he was fooled by her continued insistence that there was nothing she was hiding from him. He knew there was, had known it since last April, when she'd gone quiet when he made an offhand joke about her not dating until she was thirty. She was good enough at guarding her thoughts these days that he had not known for certain who she had eyes for, but he knew there was someone.
It was tempting to push a bit further in Occlumency lessons, to turn her thoughts over and examine them instead of merely testing the strength of her barriers, but it was something he had promised her he would not do. Still, the longer she evaded his questions, the more urgently he had wanted to break that promise.
There was the Flint boy; certainly, he had been holding a torch for Calista for some time. But Severus wasn't particularly concerned about that, despite what that Avril girl had come to tell him, a week ago. Flint could fancy Calista all he wanted, but he was nearly certain Calista would go for a different sort; of course, he'd asked the Flint boy, just to be safe, after the Avril girl had come spouting her story, but he'd only confirmed that Flint did indeed pine after his daughter, and he couldn't very well punish the boy for wishing.
No, there was someone else, he was sure of it; some intellectual type, probably a Ravenclaw. In Flint's eyes, he'd seen a vision of the boy kissing his daughter in the Owlery, but he presumed it at once to be nothing but a fantasy - albeit one that irked him, but a fantasy nonetheless - because he could not imagine Calista keeping such a secret from him, after so many pointed questions, and also because he didn't think she was the sort of girl to be kissing boys in the Owlery. That sort of thing was more suited to girls like the Avril one, wasn't it?
He could only hope that whatever boy Calista was involved with, he was close to her own age; she did have a penchant for socialising with older students. He wondered if he should drop in on one of Filius' peer tutor meetings - there was at least one Ravenclaw boy tutoring Charms, he knew, and now that he thought of it, Calista's newfound attitude and her desire to tutor other students in Charms had come about fairly close in time.
But less than a year ago, Calista had still been solidly in the 'boys are icky' camp, and though he was quite irritated at her lack of communication and honesty, he at least took solace in the fact that, at the rate she had matured in regards to boys, she was not likely to want to go any further with one than studying with their heads bent low together, or perhaps hand-holding and an awkward conversation over a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks… but he'd asked Madam Rosmerta, in a weak moment, and as far as she could recall, Calista was still going in there with the same crowd as always, Weasley, Clearwater, and Amelia Slater, the girl that had spent half of the previous summer in his flat.
The problem was, until Severus knew who the boy in question was, he had no idea whether he was in the same stage of maturity regarding romance as Calista was, and that worried him. He needed Calista to come clean with him, before things picked up intensity, and she found herself accidentally in over her head. Certainly, he had once hoped that would wait until she was thirty, but he hadn't honestly expected it. He decided to give her one more week, to come out with the truth, and tell him which boy it was she was getting involved with. After that, he would demand that she come clean, disclose the lengths he had already gone to to try and find out…
He was jarred from his musings by a rap at his office door. Ah, perhaps it was Calista herself, finally come to tell him the truth. Why she insisted, always, on keeping him in the dark as long as possible, well, he had told Narcissa the truth, he didn't quite know; and he was trying to accept it, but there were times where it was next to impossible.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened, and it wasn't Calista after all. It was the Avril girl again, and this time she had brought her sidekick, Macnair. Severus fought to keep his lip from curling; he knew he was biased, but he didn't particularly care for either of them.
"Yes, Miss Avril, Miss Macnair?" he asked, with polite impatience.
"Professor Snape, sir," Avril said, affecting a look of wide-eyed innocence. "There's something Portia and I have to tell you - something about Calista."
He waited for them to continue. They exchanged a look, and then the Macnair girl spoke up.
"Calista's snogging Marcus Flint," she said, and she didn't even manage to sound halfway sincere, like the Avril girl could.
"I'm really concerned, sir," Avril said, with more of that mock-sincerity. "Marcus is a little older, you know, and he's said a few things about… about Calista that seemed so… well, crude, sir, if you will. And she's so naive," the girl continued, "I'm afraid he might try to take advantage of her."
"I believe you've expressed your concern to me before, Miss Avril. I assure you, I recall it."
Dismissal was evident in his tone; still, the Avril girl pressed on.
"But, sir, this time I'm certain of it. They're in the Owlery right now; Portia saw them going up."
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Calista beat Marcus to the Owlery this time; as soon as he appeared, though, she knew her face lit up.
"Hey," he said, striding over to her, and grinning. Would that grin ever stop making her feel dizzy?
They hadn't been alone together in several days, so they spent the next several minutes kissing; by the time they separated, both of them were a bit red-faced.
"So," Marcus teased, with his hand still aside of her neck, "Have you done anything brilliant since Saturday? Invented any new spells, or… or whipped up any more sixth year potions?"
"Well… I did borrow a new book from Flitwick, about ancient charms… they used to use these complicated rituals, you know, like I was telling you about before, before they had wands. I'm going to see if I can find any runes that were used for them that might match up to wand movements for modern spells."
"See, if someone said all that in class, I'd be bored out of my mind, but when you say it, it sounds so interesting."
She chuckled. "Well… it probably is boring, for most people. It's just… I have my own reasons for being interested in wandless magic…"
Namely, Bellatrix's Disarming skill… But she didn't want to think about Bellatrix now.
"What about you?" she asked, "You were making up those strategy diagrams, for Quidditch. Have you come up with anything good?"
"Well," he said, "I've been thinking of having Ivans and Groudy - er, you know, the new Beaters - try the Doppelbeater Defence… you know what that is?"
"No," she admitted, "But tell me."
"It's when both Beaters hit the same bludger together… it can really take the other team's Chaser out, y'know? Kim Avery and Justin Kline were real good at it, but they've both graduated. I'm not sure if the new guys can do it, to be honest."
"So I've noticed something," Calista said, because it had just occurred to her. "You've stopped trying to get me to try out for Quidditch. Did you finally realise I can't fly?"
"You can fly," Marcus insisted, "Or you could, if you really wanted to, I still believe that. But…" he shifted, a little uncomfortably. "I kept thinking, you know, if you were on the team, we'd spend more time together…"
"But you've been bugging me to play Quidditch since my first year."
"Yeah, about that," Marcus said, chuckling sheepishly. "I was thinking about that the other day, you know, 'cause you asked me when I realised I fancied you, and I guess I should have figured it out much sooner, 'cause when I was younger, my dad always told me if you like a girl, you should try and find a common interest… and I guess I was trying to find one with you, only I'm not clever enough for all the things you're into, so I was just trying to get you into Quidditch, instead."
Calista laughed a bit, too. "Well, I'm not athletic enough for the things you're into."
"So…" Marcus said, pulling her close, and disarming her with that grin again, "I guess it's a good thing we found something we're both into…"
"Oh yeah?" she asked, playing along; but she had her hands behind his neck already, was already standing on her tiptoes. "What's that?"
He found her mouth with his; his kisses were always so gentle, sweet - they made her feel comfortable with it, will all of this, when otherwise she might not have been.
"This," he murmured, and he kissed her again. Calista had always thought it was stupid, in books and things, when people kissed with their eyes closed, but now she was doing it, too -
-And suddenly, she wasn't. Abruptly, their kiss ended, and she felt nothing but cold air where Marcus had been. Her eyes flew open…
And then, her jaw dropped in horror. Of all people, her father was here, suddenly, inexplicably, and he had Marcus by the front of his robes; Marcus looked pretty startled, and she remembered that he'd admitted, last year, to being scared of Severus.
Perhaps it should have seemed absurd, because Marcus was a bit taller than Severus, and a good deal broader, but the twisted look of fury on Severus' face made him seem like the larger of the two.
"'There's nothing going on with Calista, sir'", Severus mocked, "'I have no idea what you mean'."
"I… erm, P-professor, I -" Marcus stammered; Calista tried to get her father's attention, because frankly, she could see in that moment how Marcus was afraid of him - but he didn't seem to notice. He bared his teeth at Marcus.
"In the future, Mr. Flint," Severus hissed, "You'd do well to remember that I detest liars."
"I'm s-sorry, sir, I -"
"Also in the future," Severus growled, fist still clenched around the fabric at the neck of Marcus' robes, "You will keep your mouth off of my daughter, or you will find yourself packing your trunk for good. Is that understood?"
"Please, sir, let me-"
"I asked," Severus said, his voice rising quickly,"Is that understood, Mr. Flint?"
Calista couldn't see her father's eyes clearly, but she would have bet anything that they were flashing now, in that dangerous way that meant he'd been pushed too far...
"Yeah, okay," Marcus said, quickly, and Severus finally released his hold on the boy's robes.
"Good," Severus said ominously, and then his gaze swung around to Calista; ah, yes. Even in the near-dark, she could see that his eyes were indeed flashing. "Calista, we'll talk in my office, immediately."
"Dad-" she started to protest.
"Now," he said, and she knew it was pointless to argue. She settled for sulking venomously instead; but first, she cast a sorrowful look at Marcus. She thought the look he gave her in return was probably a pretty good mirror of it.
Except, as it turned out, when they got to his office, it was only Severus who was there to talk; he didn't seem particularly interested in what Calista had to say.
"Dad, just let me explain-" she started, as they stepped into his office, but he wheeled on her, as soon as the door was closed.
"No," he said, "I've been asking you to explain since April; your time is up. Now, I will explain. You are not to even speak to that Flint boy, anymore; and lest you think to sneak around behind my back any more than you already have, rest assured that I am fully prepared to carry out my threat to have him expelled. And don't think a shared common room will help you; I'll have you in detention every single evening until curfew if I have to."
"You can't - this is the most unfair thing you've ever done to me!" she protested vehemently.
"And lying to my face for six months - do you suppose that was fair?" he countered.
"I had to," she howled, "Because I knew you were going to react like this!"
"Was I? I suppose you'll never know."
"Come on," she said, "You're… you're ruining everything, like I knew you would!"
"Well," Severus said, icily. "It seems you know me better than I know you, then; because you see, I'm utterly blindsided by your behaviour."
"Dad, can we just talk -"
"No," he said, again. "I've been asking you to talk for far too long; now, as it happens, I'm the one who isn't in the mood. Perhaps, when I become convinced that you will actually tell me the truth, I will ask you to talk. Until then, you may sleep in your old room, here, for tonight."
"I don't want to."
"I don't care."
She glared venom at him, and he looked sternly back at her.
"Good night, Calista," he said pointedly.
"Well, it was," she sulked, storming out of his office. The door of his quarters slammed theatrically behind her.
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