Chapter Four:
To the dismay of the students, they were studying Mandrakes in Herbology. Their wretched cries could only be muffled so much, even with Professor Sprout's extra-fluffy earmuffs.
Calista found that she was quickly becoming an expert in replanting the things, simply because she would do anything to get them to shut up. Her Herbology grade may have been benefiting, but she left every class with a splitting headache.
She wasn't the only one, either. Olivia had been excused from class early twice, complaining of feeling faint and dizzy from the cries. The second time, she put on such theatrics that Professor Sprout had gestured to Calista, who was working next to Olivia, to accompany her to the Hospital Wing.
As soon as they had removed their earmuffs and gotten beyond where anyone in the greenhouse could see them, Olivia recovered quite miraculously.
"That was easy," she said with a self-satisfied air, "Now what shall we do with our freedom for the next half-hour?"
"What if Sprout checks with Madame Pomfrey to see if you've been to the Hospital Wing?"
"She won't," Olivia assured her, "Or at least, she didn't last time. Only McGonagall bothers to follow up on that sort of thing."
"My dad would, too," Calista told her, "If he let you go at all, I mean, without losing a cauldronful of blood first."
"Lucky he's not the Herbology professor then, aren't we?" the blonde girl smirked and then gripped Calista's wrist, pulling her in the direction of the school's stables, an area of the grounds that Calista had never been to.
"Where are we going?" Calista wondered sourly, and Olivia's secretive grin made her stomach flop.
"You'll see," she said. When the stables came into view, she saw that there appeared to be a class just breaking up. Several robed figures were milling about the area, and a taller figure, presumably a professor, was headed back towards the castle.
"Olivia!" Calista hissed, "That's a professor! He'll see us out of class!"
"You worry too much, Snapelet. That's Kettleburn, he's ancient and half-blind; he couldn't spot a hippogriff in his sitting-room."
"Don't," Calista warned, "call me that."
Olivia hushed her, and pulled her closer to the stables, where a few students still lingered. When they drew close, Olivia dropped Calista's hand and advanced without her. She stopped a short distance from the paddock fence that was attached to the stables, and she must have made some small noise, because a boy that had been standing there, leaning against a gate-post, turned to her.
Calista judged he was a fourth-or fifth-year, wearing green-trimmed robes. She thought she might have seen him in the Slytherin common room a few times, but couldn't really place him beyond that.
Sulking, she drew closer to the pair, wondering why Olivia had dragged her here in the middle of their class.
Olivia was laughing at something the boy had said; he looked over Olivia's shoulder as she approached.
"Who's your friend?" the boy asked Olivia.
"This is Calista," she said, beckoning the slighter, darker-headed girl forward, "My very dear friend. Calista, this is Colin. Remember I told you, he's simply brilliant with animals?"
Calista could feel a denial springing to her lips; Olivia had told her no such thing, and the pleading look in her normally cold blue eyes was easy to interpret. Why should Calista lie for her, just to help her curry the favour of some boy? She wouldn't.
Calista opened her mouth, looking at the boy. All would have gone as planned, if he hadn't chosen that moment to smile.
Calista felt heat rush her face; he had a fantastic smile. How could she not have noticed when they first approached how nice he looked? He had dark hair, a bit longish and tucked haphazardly behind his ears, and his eyes were hazel-coloured and lit up when he smiled.
"Oh yeah," she heard herself saying, in a breathless, airy sort of voice that she hardly recognized as her own, "You did say."
Colin laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling just so – oh Merlin, had Calista just noticed that? Since when did she notice things like that? And about boys, no less?
"Colin Greengrass," he clarified for her, "It's a pleasure, I'm sure."
"Oh yeah," Calista repeated, in the same stupid voice. Inwardly, she kicked herself. Why had she suddenly become a simpering idiot like Olivia? "Er, I mean, yes. Nice to meet you too, I guess."
"Colin's just had Care of Magical Creatures class," Olivia said sweetly, "Isn't it nice that our Herbology class gets out at just the same time?"
"What?" Olivia's simpering expression was sufficiently amusing to knock some sense back into her. She was already in this, playing along, wasn't she? She told herself that her motivation in seeing this charade through had nothing to do with Colin Greengrass and everything to do with wanting to see how much of a fool Olivia would make of herself.
"Yeah, it's fantastic," Calista agreed, now refusing to look at Colin's face again. She focused on Olivia instead. "What are we doing here, again?"
Olivia's eyes narrowed warningly, and she hurried to engage Colin again. "You said you would show us the thestrals," she went on, sparing only a pointed play-along glance at Calista, "Since we missed them on the ride to the castle at the beginning of term."
"What?" Calista interrupted, taking another step closer to Olivia, "We didn't miss them, we – Ow!"
Olivia had elbowed Calista sharply, and cut in hurriedly. "She doesn't know," Olivia advised Colin, "Isn't that sweet? I'm sure you remember – you said you'd take us in to feed them."
What was Olivia playing at now? Calista didn't have long to wonder. Colin laughed again, and she could feel his hazel eyes on her, now. "I told your friend Olivia that those carriages you rode in on were drawn by thestrals," he explained, "Don't feel bad for not realising it, though. Most no one does, until they learn it in Care of Magical Creatures class. You can't see them, right? So how would you know?"
"You can't see them?" Calista's question was directed at Olivia, but Colin answered. "I can – my grandma died last year. Before that, though, I saw the gamekeeper feeding them once and it was really cool – like the food was just disappearing. I told Olivia it was why I started to have an interest in them, and she said she wanted to see them fed, too."
Calista opened her mouth again, but shut it with a scowl after another well-aimed elbow.
"Oh, yes," Olivia said, in much the same breathless voice Calista had heard herself use a few minutes ago, "Show us, please."
Colin led them into the stables, and warned them to stay back a bit. "They can be quite dangerous. The ones at Hogwarts are tamed of course, or as tamed as thestrals can be, but even so. I've barely got permission from Kettleburn to be in here studying them by myself. I reckon I'm not supposed to bring anyone with me."
Calista and Olivia watched Colin take a small something from a foul-smelling bucket in the corner of the stables; presumably a dead mouse or small bird.
Calista cocked her head when Colin fed whatever it was to the skeletal, horse-like creature. She saw it open its reptilian mouth wide, and swallow the thing – a mouse, evidently, since she saw its tail disappear down the thestral's wide throat.
"That's brilliant," Olivia said a bit too appreciatively, "It's just like you said – it just disappears."
Calista turned her head to look at Olivia, making an effort to mask her own surprise. Could Olivia really not see the thestral?
She had seen them drawing the carriages too, on their ride to the castle, and it hadn't occurred to her that some of her classmates couldn't see them. No one had commented on it; she had seen them, and she hadn't asked anyone else if they could, too.
"You can only see them if you've seen death firsthand," Colin informed them, as if he had read Calista's mind, "Once you can see them, it's – well, let's just say it's bittersweet. They're odd-looking, too. Some folk find them a bit creepy, but I like them."
"Oh," Calista said, looking back at the very real and solid-looking thestral. "Oh, that's… er, interesting. Olivia, we have to get to Charms class now."
This earned her another sharp elbow from Olivia – Calista vowed to get her back for what were sure to be bruised ribs – but they left the stables at any rate.
"Thank you so much for showing us," Olivia simpered on the way out, "It was really amazing, Colin."
Colin chuckled, and reached into the bucket for another dead mouse. "I'm sure. Have fun in Charms class, then."
When the girls were outside and several paces from the stables, Olivia grabbed Calista's elbow and hissed.
"Honestly, you are impossibly awkward sometimes! Did you have to mention Charms class? We've got a good twenty minutes to get there, still!"
"And we're at least a fifteen minute walk from the classroom," Calista retorted, "Besides, I thought I was your 'dear friend' all of a sudden?"
Olivia glared, but then smoothed her features into a tight smile. "You are a dear friend of mine, of course. That's why I brought you with me today."
"Huh!" Calista challenged, wrenching her elbow from Olivia's grip, "Our 'friendship' is news to you as much as it is to me. What do you want from me now, anyway? Doing poorly in Potions again, are you? Or is it Herbology this time? Because you'd probably do better if you actually stayed for the whole class, you know."
"Oh, hush, Calista, you're one to talk. At least I haven't ditched an entire session of r—of Transfiguration. And anyhow, what makes you think I want anything from you? It just so happens that I regret that we quarrelled so much last year. I thought you might enjoy coming with me to see the thestrals – but I guess I was mistaken."
"So you did see the thestrals, then?"
"Oh, you know what I meant! And anyway, it wasn't the thestrals I was really interested in, was it?"
"You really couldn't see them?" Calista pressed.
"No, of course not," Olivia replied, "Could you?"
Calista glanced at Olivia. She looked curious, rather than vindictive. What if Olivia was telling the truth? What if she really did want to be friends with Calista again, after all? She had been fairly kind to her since the beginning of term, and it was wearing her out having to be on guard for Olivia's next attack.
"Yes, I can see them," Calista decided to tell her, "I've been able to all along, even when they were pulling the carriages."
Olivia looked surprised; after that, there must have been a trick of the light, because Calista thought for a second that she had seen an eerie sort of smile on her face. When she looked back, she was sure she had imagined it.
"I'm so sorry," Olivia said, sounding as close to sincere as Calista thought she could, "I had no idea, or I would have warned you what we were going to do."
"It's all right," Calista said, "They don't bother me or anything, really. I don't think they look so bad."
"What are they like?" Olivia asked, and Calista described the thestrals to her, until they arrived at the Charms classroom just a moment before the start-of-class signal sounded.
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Calista met her father in the Entrance Hall on Saturday with her cloak on. As they descended the front stair of the castle, a chill breeze swept around and between them, carrying ragged, brown leaves in its wake.
Severus fastened his cloak wordlessly, and Calista tipped her face up, inhaling deeply. The cold made her nose sting.
"It smells like snow," she said, "I wonder if we'll get any soon."
"Soon enough, I'm sure," her father replied dryly, "You'll tire of it as soon as it settles."
"I like it."
"You said that last November, too – in fact, if I recall, you said that up until the first time you had to walk to and from the greenhouses in it."
They walked in companionable silence for a few more minutes, the wind picking up and rushing past their ears. Calista could almost feel the tips of her ears and nose turning red, and began to wish she'd thought to wear her scarf.
"So, I want to try something different with you," Severus said presently, "I think you may be ready for something a bit more advanced."
Calista felt a surge of pride, but then second-guessed it. "But I still can't really keep you out," she reminded him.
"Of course you can't, you're twelve years of age," he pointed out reasonably. "We will keep practising that, but it's going to take years of it before you reach that level. For now, I want you to try focusing on creating convincing distractions and misleading images in your mind."
Calista pushed forward the same image of her cat as before, with the bubble of sadness around it, and then the anxiety over homework.
Severus flicked through these prepared images, and then approached the next set of her barriers warningly.
Hurriedly, Calista cast about in her thoughts for something else to stuff between her fist and second barriers. She assembled a vague sort of disdain and attached it to the word Gryffindor. It echoed hollowly through her mind, with not much else to attach to.
"You have something of the idea," he said, "It's more about misdirection and less about assembling bits and pieces, though. I want you to take your genuine, raw feelings about something, and attach them to something or someone slightly different." Severus glanced at Calista, and saw her scrunching her face up in confusion.
"For example – go on, try to penetrate my mind, and I'll show you what I mean."
Severus opened the very forefront of his mind almost entirely to her, leaving only a thin veil for Calista to try to pass through.
They hadn't been practising Legilimency at all since Calista's last nightmare in which they thought Bellatrix had been close to achieving contact with her. It had definitely fallen to a lower priority when he had learned how close Bellatrix was getting to the girl again, and had seen an urgent need to work directly on strengthening Calista against outright mental attacks.
Now, however, he was fairly confident that her barriers were strong enough to withstand a similar attack on her dreams from Bellatrix; any Legilimency where the subject wasn't in the same room with the Legilimens was, after all, extremely difficult to the point of being near-impossible.
There was, as far as Severus knew, no possible way that Bellatrix should have been able to reach Calista all the way from Azkaban; he could only assume it had something to do with the genetic link that also alerted him when she was distressed, but he hadn't found an explanation yet that satisfied him.
Calista's effort to penetrate even the thin barrier he had placed at the front of his mind was rough. He expected her to be less finessed than the last time they had practised this many months ago, but not quite so much as this. It wasn't quite as poor as her initial effort as a younger child, because the strength behind her intrusion was fair, but it was about as subtle as a stampede of giants.
Perhaps we should return to practising Legilimancy soon, too – you won't progress far as an Occlumens without a much better grasp on it. Be that as it may, this is what I meant when I said to misdirect the source of your emotions.
Here, he showed her an image of Professor McGonagall. She could feel a deep-seated anger licking at the edges of the image, and resentment so intense that it frightened her. She caught snippets of thoughts that lashed the image, but couldn't pick one out enough to distinguish it.
The force of the hatred in her father's mind seemed as out-of-place and alarming there as an impression of doting maternal love would have seemed to her in Bellatrix's mind. She had seen him angry, had at times witnessed the hint of bitterness inside him, but never had seen such single-minded fury from him. It caused her to flinch away from the image, nearly outside the confines of his mental boundary.
The image and its associated negativity didn't disappear so much as they faded to the background of the layer of his mind that she was within; it was often like this with Legilimency: images, feelings, snippets of thought were like drifting bits in a vast, murky fluid.
Calista sensed that this layer of her father's mind also contained tugs and pinpricks of ideas, but couldn't begin to piece them together. She wondered if her mind was as confusing as this, too; and couldn't fathom how, if it was, her father seemed at times to be able to pluck thoughts from her mind that hadn't seemed as concisely formed within her own head as he made them sound.
Severus could feel Calista struggling and floundering in the pool of thoughts he had opened to her. He concentrated on guiding together some of the elements what he wanted her to see, and showed her another image.
Professor McGonagall appeared in his mind again, and this time the feelings were harder to identify. She felt a comforting heat, like she had just had a mug of tea and was now relaxing, full-bellied and content, before a great fire. Encouraged, Calista focused on the explorative tentacle she still had in her father's outermost layer, and guided it closer to the image.
She encountered a strange sort of bubble surrounding the image; puzzled, she mentally poked at it a few more times, but then she could feel it slip away; she felt a surge of fierce protectiveness, and a dizzying jolt of warmth. It made her feel absurdly happy, and when Severus gently pushed her out of his mind and sealed the barrier again, she found that she was actually, physically smiling.
"Both of the emotional responses that you felt from me were my genuine feelings for an individual, but neither is actually linked to Professor McGonagall," he said softly, his eyes fixed on her face. She truly was a different child when she smiled like that; looking at her for a brief moment before it faded, he would never have believed if he hadn't known her so well, that she was the same prickly, defensive thing that argued and snarled her way through half of each day.
Calista's smile melted into pensive consideration. "Who were they for then?"
He studied her profile as they walked on, debating how much to say; both of their breaths were coming out in wispy puffs of steam before them. After a moment of silence, Calista tilted her face up to his, still expectant of an answer.
"You'll need an astronomical level of skill in Legilimency before you discover the origins of the first response you saw," he said finally, "But I should think the second was obvious."
She searched his face, but he looked up at a passing shadow overhead. Above them, several thestrals wheeled in the sky, evidently getting their exercise. In the distance, Calista could make out a dark smudge of a shape that must be the gamekeeper Hagrid, watching them.
Calista tilted her face upward too, just as a thestral flew directly over her, casting its shadow on where she and her father stood. Calista blamed the accompanying gust of wind when she shivered; and then there was the heavy, settling warmth of her father's arm across her shoulders.
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Two weeks later, a light blanket of snow coated the castle grounds. Calista had, remarkably, been given a break from Occlumency lessons while her father had left the castle for the day.
It wasn't really unusual, if he had to get some rarer potions ingredients than could be ordered through the school's usual channels, although Calista was a little surprised that whatever it was couldn't wait until Christmas break.
Still, she relished the free day, languishing in the Slytherin common room with Olivia, Emily, and Portia. The unexpected holiday had put her in such a good mood, in fact, that even Portia's presence wasn't really bothering her.
A table that was meant for study was occupied by a few first-years playing Exploding Snap, but most of the rest of the Slytherins were absent. Calista supposed a good deal of them were watching the Quidditch team practise. They had beaten Gryffindor soundly in the first match, but they were scheduled to play Ravenclaw next, and their Chasers were very good.
The falling snow and strong winds of the last few days had taken the edge off of Olivia's desire to watch the team practise, however; or maybe it was that she had a new object of affection to distract her from Marcus Flint.
"I've been doing Christmas shopping," Emily announced into the lazy silence, "I hope you'll all like what I've picked out."
"No more Gobstones, please," Olivia said, yawning. Portia caught her eye and grinned.
"Er, no. Something different this time, I promise." Emily blushed a little.
"I'm nearly done with mine as well," Portia said, "Have you done yours, 'Liv?"
"Oh yes, ages ago," Olivia said carelessly, "I asked Mother to order a few things on her last shopping trip. I expect they'll be in any day now." She looked at the other girls, and settled her gaze on Calista, an odd sort of hunger in her eyes.
"Did you finish your shopping yet, Calista?"
"Er, not exactly." She was taken aback at the odd look on Olivia's face, and felt herself tense, expecting trouble.
"Excellent," Olivia said, the expression shifting into one of avid delight, "Then I know exactly what you can get for me."
Calista sat up a little straighter, apprehensive. She was trying to trust Olivia, but it wasn't easy.
"In fact, you don't even have to buy it. You can make it."
"What do you want?" Calista tried and failed to keep her tone light.
"Amortentia," Olivia said, smiling tightly.
"I—what? Olivia, are you mad? I can't make that!"
"Of course you can," Olivia said, now sweetly cajoling, "I know you're the most talented brewer in our year."
"Olivia, that's a sixth-year potion!"
"It's also banned from Hogwarts," Emily added, her brown eyes wide, "If Filch caught either one of you with it, he'd –"
"Oh, hush, Emily. What hasn't that miserable geezer banned? Calista, look –" Olivia looked at her earnestly now, "I really want it – no, I need it. And you're the only one I trust enough to ask. I know you're capable of brewing it, and it would mean so much to me."
"Who do you want it for?" Calista asked, and Portia and Emily were both paying very close attention now.
Olivia took in the dedicated audience she had garnered, and dropped her voice to a whisper, although it was probably already low enough not to carry.
"It's not really for me," she confided, "It's for – my parents. They've been quarrelling an awful lot lately, and I just want to help them reconcile."
"Well then, I definitely can't make it," Calista said, relieved, "It requires something from the person the potion's supposed to attract the drinker to. A hair, or saliva, or something."
"I can get you something," Olivia said hurriedly, "Of Mother's. Please, Calista? My holidays will be just utterly ruined if Mother and Father are arguing the whole time. And you see, I won't even be using it while at Hogwarts, so it's not really against the rules."
"I…" Calista looked at Olivia's pleading face, and then at Emily and Portia, who both looked a little like they might cry at any moment.
"I'll try," she said reluctantly, "But I honestly don't know if I can do it."
Olivia's face broke into a grin, and she hugged Calista impulsively, ignoring the way Calista tensed her shoulders and set her teeth.
"Thank you so much," she said, "I knew I could count on you."
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
The final weeks before Christmas break were strenuous. Calista was consulting a copy of Advanced Potion-Making she had borrowed from her father's classroom. She felt a twinge of guilt nearly every time she set foot in the classroom, knowing that if he had seen her take the book he would want to know why, and would almost certainly disapprove of what she was doing.
She could have told him; he would have put a stop to it, and forbidden her to make the potion, and that could have been the end of it. She wasn't sure, as she set up her cauldron inside her own sparse wardrobe in the girls' dormitory, why she hadn't done this.
Olivia had procured the rarer ingredients for the potion somehow, probably from her mother; Calista ignored the vague nausea in her stomach when she pondered this, knowing on some level that it meant Olivia had planned on having Calista make the potion weeks before she'd actually asked her to do it.
It was cunning of Olivia to provide the ingredients though, because she must have realised that Calista would have drawn the line at being asked to steal ingredients from her father.
There were several botched attempts at the potion, each one of which was met with increasing frustration from both herself and her client. Still, Olivia helped her dispose of each of the six or seven failed attempts.
Olivia, Calista, and Emily had collaborated on a clever charm that kept a magical flame lit in a bedpan on the floor of Calista's wardrobe during the brewing process without burning the wood. Calista rather wished she could have written about how they had done it for Flitwick, but that would have led to some awkward questions she was sure her father would hear about in the staffroom.
Adding to Calista's stress was the increasing difficulty of her Occlumency lessons. Her father had evidently felt the need to make up for her lost lesson and had once again increased the length and intensity of her lessons.
Once again, she was leaving each lesson considerably drained; this time, not only from maintaining multi-level barriers, but also from the turmoil of having to wrench deep-seated emotions from beneath her primary barriers, and direct them towards other people and things. The whole process was exhausting, emotional, and a lot more difficult than Calista could possibly have believed.
His motivation became clear a few days before the final day of classes prior to Christmas break. He announced to Calista that they would not be spending the holidays at the castle as they had last year, but that they would be visiting friends of his.
She had asked him who they were going to visit, and he hadn't given her a direct answer; instead, he told her to meet him after her final class of the term for a final Occlumency lesson before the holidays, and said he would tell her where they were going after the lesson.
The only bright spot in the week was that Calista's transfiguring spell with the blasted pencil was finally showing signs of improvement.
Standing by her open wardrobe door and watching the simmer of her secret potion, she'd decided to try practising the spell while she waited for the correct time to add the next ingredient, or stir the cauldron, or, a few times, to clean up the whole mess and start over.
Remarkably, she'd managed the transformation a few times. Away from the soothing simmer of the cauldron, however, she found that she still had great difficulty. Still, it was a start. She resolved to try doing her Transfiguration homework in the Potions classroom when she came back from Christmas break.
She had no notion of what she would do when she was actually in the Transfiguration classroom, or sitting her exams, but she hoped fervently that she'd think of something, or overcome the ridiculous block in her mind that was preventing her from performing the spell correctly when she wasn't either looking at a ruler or stirring a cauldron.
Finally, the evening before their last class, when Calista had stood hunched over her wardrobe so many times for so long that her back was aching, she smelled a delicious, tantalising aroma. It was like… like a fresh, crisp snow, and the moist, rich smell of a roomful of simmering cauldrons, and something else that she couldn't quite identify.
Her potion was a distinctive mother-of-pearl colour, and little wafts of steam came off it in predictable, lovely patterns.
"I did it!" she crowed with disbelief, and tore across the room to the door. She could hear her dorm-mates chattering from the common room beyond.
"Olivia, come here!"
A pause, and then Olivia entered the room, Portia and Emily at her heels. "Did you do it?" she asked eagerly, and Calista shushed her and beckoned them in, closing the door firmly behind them.
Without waiting to hear what Calista said, Olivia pushed past her and walked over to inspect the contents of the cauldron in the wardrobe.
"It smells fantastic," she called, "Is this right?"
"It is," Calista said, joining her over the cauldron, "At least, I'm nearly certain it is. It looks just like the text says it should. Now I just need something from your mother."
"Nearly certain?" Portia asked.
Olivia turned and rummaged in her own wardrobe, and then held her hand up, index finger and thumb steepled together. From them dangled a single long, blonde hair.
"Here, use this. It was among the wrappings of the last package she sent me from home."
Calista took the hair and dropped it into the cauldron. It disappeared below the surface in a flash of pink, and then the potion returned to its pearly state.
"I need a flask," Calista said, still entranced by the potion. She had actually done it – she had brewed Amortentia. It was well beyond the level she had been working at, even during private lessons. She felt a surge of pride, followed by a flush of deep disappointment that she could not share this victory with her father.
She knew he would be immensely proud, after he got over wanting to throttle her. Olivia handed her a flask, and she poured the potion carefully into it. Only a small cauldron could fit in the wardrobe; it filled the flask with not a drop left.
Olivia corked the flask and set it down carefully; then she threw her arms around Calista.
"You're brilliant," she said, "I won't forget this."
Calista sincerely hoped she wouldn't regret what she had just done.