Year 4, Chapter 4
Dear Aunt Narcissa,
Everything is ruined now. My father found out, and just as I expected, he says I am not allowed to see Marcus. He won't even listen to me, or let me explain, and he's threatened to have Marcus expelled if we keep meeting anyway.
I wish he would realize that I'm not a small child anymore, and that Marcus is a really nice person, that we we care about each other and it's not just… I don't know, whatever he thinks it is.
What would you do now, if you were in my place? Please give me some ideas.
Love,
Calista
After she had written to Narcissa, she sat at a study table in the Slytherin common room, supposedly studying Ancient Runes. In actuality, however, what she was doing was sulking. How had Severus found them? And why was he being so unreasonable?
When Marcus appeared in the common room, it was the first time she had seen him since he had been berated by her father; she couldn't help but look into his face, to see how he was feeling. He looked… well, in truth, he looked quite cross, when he met her gaze.
"Hey," Calista called out, softly, when he was near her. He hesitated, several paces away, neither approaching closer or walking away. "How… how are you? I mean, are you okay? He didn't… he didn't write to your parents or anything, did he?"
"I dunno," Marcus said, and there was no question that he was cross. "My parents wouldn't care, anyway. They know about us, and they don't have a problem with it. I guess they'd have a problem if I got expelled, though."
"I don't think… I don't think he can really do that," Calista said, but there was doubt evident in her tone.
Marcus shrugged. "I just don't think it's fair, is all," he said, stonily. "I didn't do anything wrong, except when he asked me about you and I lied. And I only did that for you, and now I wish I hadn't."
"I thought it would make things easier," she said.
"Well, it didn't," Marcus huffed. "It's made everything a huge mess. And I don't know what I can do… I mean, I can't get expelled, Calista. And I don't… your dad said he doesn't like liars… well, I don't like being one, and now all of a sudden, I guess I am."
"I'm… I'm sorry, Marcus."
"I shouldn't've ever listened to you," he said, crossly. "I should've just told him the truth, when he asked."
Calista closed the cover of her textbook, and exhaled. She shook her head, and looked up at Marcus sadly.
"You know what? You're right. I thought… I thought I could make things easier by keeping it secret, but I… I guess I didn't have the right to make that decision for you, too."
"No," he agreed, "You didn't."
"I'm really sorry," she said, again.
He nodded. "Okay," he said, and then, he tilted his head. "Actually, it's not okay. I'm still pretty cross, and now I'm worried he'll try to get me taken off the Quidditch team or something."
"No," Calista said, "I'm going to… as soon as he's actually listening to me, I'm going to tell him that keeping it secret was my idea, I just made you go along with it."
"Well, I could have just told the truth. Next time, I will."
"Next time?" Calista asked, hopefully. "So you don't… you don't hate me now, then?"
"Of course I don't hate you. I just… I need to think about all of this, okay? And I need to think of how I can make your dad stop hating me, not just because of you, but because he's my Head of House."
She nodded, sadly. It was really the best she could hope for; besides, she wasn't even supposed to be talking to him, and she really didn't want to get him in any more trouble.
When she watched him walk away, she was surprised by how sad it made her feel; there had to be some way to make her father understand. Didn't there?
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Severus found himself again studying the drawing Calista had made for him for Christmas. It sometimes seemed as if the girl in the drawing, as well as the girl that had given it to him, were in hiding.
Severus knew that Calista was furious with him, and he knew, also, that he had probably treated the Flint boy a bit unfairly; but how was he supposed to react, when both of them had lied to his face? He still didn't even know precisely to what extent Calista had been lying, and his priority, always, was her safety and well-being. She might think that he was unreasonable, but did she even have any idea what he was protecting her from? He thought that she didn't, and that was sufficiently frightening to justify the way he'd handled the situation last night.
Perhaps he might have been more sympathetic to the Flint boy if the little bastard had had the backbone to tell him the truth; but he'd skirted away from it like a coward, evidently expecting that Severus was so easily deceived, and that irked him nearly as much as finding out that the images he had seen of the Flint boy's mouth all over his daughter's face were memories rather than fantasies.
And Calista; why did his daughter insist, always, on giving herself the most difficult path imaginable? He had thought that their trust issues were resolved, when she came to him years ago for help with the love potion before everything had blown up in her face, but evidently he'd been mistaken.
And so it seemed that still they had an unfair balance between them, but not in the way she imagined it. She might think the disparity was in the fact that he had authority and she did not; but that would only be true for a small number of remaining years, and she could continue to lie to him for as long as she pleased, while he was honest with her in nearly all things, all along.
Looking at the picture she had drawn, he knew that the secretive, moody teenager of late was still the same child that had so carefully illustrated the bond between them with nothing but the ink on the sheet of parchment. How could she manage to capture so perfectly his protective affection for her in a few penstrokes, and yet accuse him of reacting to her secret romantic relationship out of anything but that same thing?
The only explanation was that she had no real notion of the sorts of consequences she stood to face if her relationship with the Flint boy got out of hand; and if she did not understand those consequences and how she might find them, then she had no business being involved in the relationship in the first place, as he saw it. And if she had been forthcoming about what it was she wanted, then perhaps they could have discussed those consequences.
For the second day in a row, a knock came unexpectedly at his door in the evening. He hurriedly shoved Calista's drawing back into his desk, as he invited the student in.
It was the Flint boy, looking every bit as nervous and shifty-eyed as he had the night before, when Severus had hauled him bodily off his daughter in the Owlery. Severus felt his eyes narrowing, involuntarily.
"Yes, Flint?" he asked, making no real play at civility.
"Professor Snape, sir," the boy said, and at least he managed to speak more or less clearly, instead of stammering as he had last night. "I… can I talk to you?"
"Evidently," Snape said, coolly. He wasn't going to help the boy out at all.
"Erm… okay," Flint said uncertainly. "I wanted to talk to you about… erm, about the thing last night, with… with Calista."
Severus merely fixed the boy with a stare, waiting for him to continue.
"The thing the other day, too," Flint said, "When you asked me about… you know, if there was anything going on with Calista, and I said.. erm, I said there wasn't…"
Severus lifted a brow.
"Well, obviously, that er- well, that wasn't true."
Severus snorted. "Obviously."
"So… so I'm real sorry that I lied, sir, I really am. I thought… I thought maybe I could keep Calista from getting in trouble…"
"My daughter doesn't need you to protect her from me," Severus growled. "Quite the opposite, in fact."
"Okay," Marcus said, taking a nervous step backwards. "Erm… I mean, okay, sir. I.. I want to say a few more things, if that's okay. And, uhm… it would be really cool if you could try not to hex me or poison me until I'm done. I mean… well, it would be great if you didn't hex me or poison me at all… or expel me. I really can't afford to be expelled…"
"I believe I've clearly spelled out the condition for avoiding that particular fate, Mr. Flint."
"Yeah," Flint pressed on, doggedly, "You did, sir. But I don't want to keep m- erm, that is, I don't want to stay away from Calista. So maybe there's… maybe there's some other things I could agree to instead."
"What you want is not a concern of mine. I've told you my condition to avoid further repercussions."
"But that's the thing," Flint said, swallowing nervously. "I don't think… I don't think there's s'posed to be 'reper-whatsists' for… for anything except lying. The rest of it… I mean, I just don't see what's wrong with… with me and Calista liking each other, and… and, you know, being together."
"Oh, really?" Severus challenged. "Please, Mr. Flint, enlighten me, then."
Flint swallowed again, and then exhaled, straightening his shoulders. "The thing is, sir, I really like Calista. She's… I mean, you know. She's different from other girls. She's… she's real clever and she's funny, and…"
He started to trail off, under the assault of Snape's continued unfriendly gaze, but he pushed himself on, recklessly.
"And she has this way of just… I dunno, it's like, every time she talks, I just want to listen to whatever she's saying and… and it makes me wish I was as clever as she is, but I know I'm not. And even when she's cross, she's just… I dunno, she's just always so… Calista is Calista, all the time, you know? She never pretends to be anything else."
Well, Flint certainly had a point, there. But Severus was not quite ready to relent, yet. He made a noise in his throat, and kept his eyes suspiciously on the boy.
"Professor Snape, sir, I've… I've liked Calista since I was twelve, and I just don't think… I mean, yeah, it would be really great for me actually if I could just stop liking her, to stop giving you reasons to hate me, keep myself out of trouble, and all. But I don't think I can, sir."
He exhaled again. "And I know… I mean, I think I know why you're worried, but you don't have to be."
"Oh, is that so?" Severus sneered.
"Yeah," Flint said, with a surprising amount of feeling. "It is. I know… I mean, I'm not daft, not like you think… I know what you think it is that I want from being with Calista, and I'm not going to… I would never do anything that would hurt her, and I would never ask her to do something she isn't okay with. I… Before I even kissed her -"
And here Severus made another queer noise in his throat again.
"-I asked her first, to make sure it was okay. And that's… what you saw going on, that's all I want right now, sir. I just want to be able to hang around with her, and… and go flying and talk and laugh with her, and, yeah, I want to kiss her once in awhile."
"And why, Flint, would I want to allow that?"
"Because, sir, I told you, I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm not… look, Professor, I know I'm not brilliant like she is, or even like most of her friends are, but… I don't just fancy her, sir. We were… we were friends, before, and I care about her a lot, and I might not be the best student, or any of that, but I promise I'm always going to be nice to her, and be her friend besides everything else."
And damn it, the boy was sincere, he really was, and Severus knew it, because the boy wasn't particularly clever, and Severus could read him like an open book. And how, indeed, could Severus continue to fault the boy for lying when he'd come here of his own volition and spilled everything, like this, even when he was clearly afraid?
Now, unbelievably, Severus was irritated with Flint for being too honest, for doing precisely what Severus had wanted him to, before. Why did he have to turn out to be something of a nice boy, after all of this? Or if he had to be one, couldn't he have waited a few more years to decide he wanted something other than friendship from his daughter?
"I'm not going to change my mind tonight," Severus settled for saying, resignedly, to the boy. "Go back to your common room, for now."
Flint nodded, and reached for the knob of his office door. He could see the tautness of the boy's nerves, the rigid set to his muscles.
"Oh, and one more thing, Flint."
Flint looked at the professor over his shoulder.
"You're not going to be expelled."
The boy's shoulders sagged in relief.
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
Calista's inability to fully concentrate on her schoolwork was something of an unfortunate pattern that week, but it wasn't solely because of her predicament with Marcus, or even because of her father's unreasonable rage.
Portia and Olivia became an unbearable enzyme in the equation; because not only was Calista distracted by her own worries and feelings, but she was constantly barraged by her two classmates' antics, as well. Word had got out, evidently, about the incident in the Owlery, and the fact that Calista and Marcus were not allowed to see each other.
Olivia had begun quoting made-up love letters to her in between classes, and in their dormitory room at night.
"Dear Marcus," she trilled one evening, when all Calista wanted to do was sleep, "I miss you soooo much, I wish I could kiss your ugly troll face all night, but my Daddy forbids it, waaah!"
"Shut it, you miserable hag."
But there were only so many times she could say this, to no avail. If only she hadn't explicitly promised her father she wouldn't curse anyone with the new spells he was teaching her… Olivia would be hanging midair by her ankles, with her knees reversed and slugs spewing out of her pinched, pretty little face.
When Calista fouled up a potion, for the first time in several years, Portia and Olivia gloated from across the room. It was all Calista could do not to hurt the gluey, yellowish remains of her botched Burn-Healing Paste across the classroom and into their smarmy little faces. She wasn't even certain where she'd mucked it up, perhaps it was even poisonous.
"Dear Marcus," Olivia had begun, in a sly little whisper as they left the class, and Calista spent the next five minutes imagining what it would be like to 'accidentally' smash Olivia's face in with her cauldron.
She got a reply from Narcissa on Thursday, and it did little to improve her outlook, or her temper.
Dear Calista,
How exactly did your father learn of your relationship with Marcus? Judging by the wording of your letter, and the conversations we had over the summer, I suspect that you did not disclose the truth to him, as you should have. I did warn you, Calista, of what would happen should he be surprised with this.
He is your father, darling, and you need to obey his rules. I know you're aware of this, but I feel I should state it again, so you understand that, even though I sympathise with you, I can't do anything to undermine his authority.
I can appeal to him to open his mind a bit to the idea, but you must start being honest with him from this point forward if you want my words to have any sway at all. Remember that all of us, myself, your father, and Lucius, all simply want to do what is best for you.
Incidentally, that classmate of yours shouldn't be a problem any longer. I understand that Lucius spoke to her mother at some length, and she's aware that she'll stand to lose much more than she could hope to have gained, if she attempts to use her daughter to manipulate our family again.
Talk to your father, Calista, and I shall do the same.
Your Loving Aunt,
Narcissa
Well, what had she expected? An effusive outpouring of sympathy, the unachievable promise of changing Severus' mind? As much as it was irritating to admit, Narcissa was right, in a way. She had warned Calista against trying to keep her relationship with Marcus a secret, and even though Calista didn't really believe that Severus' reaction would have been very different if she'd been more forthcoming, there really wasn't any way she could prove that to Narcissa.
She hardly heard a word during the Defence Against the Dark Arts lecture, but it didn't seem as if she would miss anything important, anyway.
Professor Mulhorn, it turned out, had not been completely forthcoming about her O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores in the subject, and had been sacked at the end of the prior school year. Her replacement, Professor Thatch, was a scrawny old man with a thin, reedy voice, and a distinctly boring method of teaching; they had yet to raise their wands once, in his class. Instead, he droned on and on, tedious lectures that put most of the students in mind of Professor Binns.
This, unfortunately, gave Olivia and Portia plenty of opportunity to pull faces at her, and whisper, 'Dear Marcus' in snide little hisses that carried across the quiet room to her desk, but not quite up to the elderly professor.
Dear Olivia, Calista thought darkly, Shut the hell up before I light your hair on fire.
They were leaving the classroom, Calista with her books held tight, and her mind elsewhere, when Portia bumped into her, hard, in the corridor.
"What the hell is your problem?" Calista snarled, as she bent to pick up her books and papers, which had scattered along the stone floor. She tried to hide the uptick in her heart rate, the fleeting jumpy startled feeling that hit her, still, every time she was touched unexpectedly by anyone but a very select group of people.
"What's this?" Olivia asked, snatching up a sheet of parchment that had fallen out of Calista's book. It was only her notes for the Charms essay she was working on, but Olivia held it up, and pretended to read it aloud to everyone that was walking by.
"Dear Marcus," she said loudly, derisively, "I love your troll face so much I can't stand it! But my grouchy old Daddy won't let me love you!"
Several students had stopped to watch the scene unfold; a few of them jeered, evidently amused by Olivia's pretend love letter; Calista reached for her parchment back, but Olivia held it up higher.
"It's not a letter," Calista yelled, for everyone watching more than to Olivia. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to reach for her wand and cast every curse she knew. Her fingers itched to do it, her skin burned for wanting it.
"Oh, Marcus," Olivia simpered in exaggerated tones, "Let's get married, and have the world's ugliest babies together!"
A couple of students chuckled; there were more people now, and even though Professor Thatch had ventured out into the corridor and was asking everyone to disperse in his thin voice, no one was paying him any mind.
"But first, let's go snog in the Owlery!" Olivia squealed, and she proceeded to make exaggerated kissing sounds, puckering her lips up and fluttering her eyelashes. "We can hide behind my big nose, no one will see us!"
And then, there was a resounding thud in the corridor, as Calista dropped her books on the floor deliberately; and then a furious howl, as Calista launched herself at Olivia. She clenched her fist, hauled off, and hit Olivia right in her pretty little face, as hard as she could.
"Shut up, Olivia Gamp!" she yelled, and then everything happened very fast.
Olivia was gasping and crying, and blood oozed out of her nose; around her right eye was swelling and darkening, already.
Students were cheering and catcalling, a lot more noise than there had been when Olivia was pretending to read one of Calista's letters, but then, it was a mixed crowd, students from every House, and it appeared that Olivia was not at all popular among any of the other three Houses.
A couple of Gryffindor boys were patting Calista on the back, and congratulating her; she realised with a start that they were Percy's younger brothers, Fred and George.
"Brilliant, Professor Snape," one of them said, "A hundred points for Slytherin!"
"Nah," the other one was saying, "That other one's in Slytherin, too, better just give the points to Gryffindor -"
"Right you are, Fred-"
Professor Thatch was in the center of the crowd now, pleading for order; but now Argus Filch was striding into the crowd, too, and screaming for order.
"ALL STUDENTS OUT OF THE CORRIDORS NOW!" Filch shrieked ,"Get to your classrooms or your common rooms, now! Except you -" he pointed to Olivia, who was being fussed over by Portia and a couple of her third-year friends, "and you."
Between them, Professor Thatch and Caretaker Filch managed to clear the corridor, but for the two of them, and then Professor Thatch directed Portia to take Olivia to the Hospital Wing, while Filch rounded on Calista.
"The Snape brat," he snarled, and then he addressed Professor Thatch. "I've no doubt this one was the instigator," he said, "Nasty little brat, she physically assaulted me once, you know. I'll be happy to administer her punishment, if you like."
Calista glowered at Filch; she wasn't afraid of him, in that moment, not like she had been when she was a first year. Perhaps it was because she knew self-defence spells now, or perhaps it was because she knew that no matter how cross her father was with her, he'd never allow anyone to physically punish her. Or, perhaps it was simply the adrenalin that still rushed through her veins from having hit Olivia.
"No, no, I'll handle her discipline, Argus," Professor Thatch surprised her by saying. "A detention it will be, and I'll be informing your Head of House too, young lady."
"Are you sure it will do any good?" Filch sneered, "Her head of House is her father, you know, and he's quite soft on her."
"Well, that's not my concern," Thatch said, "You'll serve your detention with me after dinner this evening, Miss Snape. I have quite a large number of papers in my office that need filing. Whether your Head of House decides to mete out an additional punishment is between he and you. Now, do you have another class to get to?"
Calista nodded. "I have… I have Transfiguration." She decided not to specify that it was her Remedial class that she was now late to.
"I'll write you a pass for being tardy," Professor Thatch said, and then he pointed his finger at her sternly. "See that you do not engage in any more brawls in the corridors, young lady. I'll see you this evening."
All things considered, she had not come off too badly for what she'd done, but of course the last thing she needed now was to give her father a reason to give her additional detentions. Still… even though she knew what she had done was ill-advised, she couldn't quite bring herself to say that she regretted it; the snot-nosed little cow had had it coming for quite some time, as she saw it. Olivia was just lucky that it had been Calista's fist that hit her, instead of a curse.
Portia and Olivia didn't show up at dinner that night, and Yvette Spinelli, one of Olivia's third-year hangers-on told everyone who would listen that she was still in the hospital wing, recovering from a "dueling injury".
Calista snorted, but she didn't have to say anything, because enough people had seen or heard the real story; so many at the Slytherin table were talking about it in, in fact, that Calista kept casting worried glances at the High Table to make sure her father wasn't about to come over and admonish her in front of everyone.
Sofia and Eva peppered her with questions about what had happened in the corridor, but Calista wasn't in a particularly talkative mood, and she brushed them off.
Her detention was just as tedious as Professor Thatch's lectures; she found herself almost wishing she was sorting flobberworms instead, especially after she got a papercut.
It was past nine o'clock when she got back to her common room, tired and still not in a very good mood. She started, when someone catcalled her arrival.
It was Endria Folland, Marcus' pretty friend that she had once been jealous of. She had made Prefect, just as everyone had predicted. She was sitting at a table with Marcus and Derek Logan, parchment spread out across the surface of the table, but she got up when Calista came in.
"That was pretty bold, Calista," Endria said, "Messing up Olivia's face like that."
"Yeah, well," Calista said, still uncertain whether Endria approved or not. "I just wanted her to shut up."
Marcus stood up, too, and he looked like he was in better spirits than he had been in days. Derek looked decidedly put out, however, and he glared at her from behind Endria and Marcus' backs.
"Well, strictly speaking," Endria said, and she fingered her Prefect badge. "I'm disappointed you attacked another student, especially one of our own. But, you know… as Marcus' friend…" she winked. "We're all right."
"What are you working on?" Calista wondered, because it seemed unusual to see Marcus working on homework on a Friday evening.
"Oh, Divination," Marcus said, "It was due yesterday, but I told her I got poked in my third eye, and couldn't see…"
Calista snorted, despite her rotten mood. "She bought that?"
"Yeah, now I have until Monday. Endria and Derek're helping me think of rubbish predictions to make… You know Trelawney told me yesterday to avoid the Owlery?"
"How insightful."
"Yeah…" Marcus rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. Endria shot a look between Calista and Marcus, and then went back to the table, sitting down and picking up her own book; it looked like she had been working on Astronomy homework.
"So," Marcus said, and he took a step closer to her, though he wasn't as close as they would have stood if this was a week ago. "I heard what happened earlier, with Olivia…"
"Yeah," Calista said, "She was… I just couldn't take it anymore."
"I can't believe you hit her," Marcus said, and he looked and sounded rather impressed. "Real good, too, from what I heard. I would've thought you'd hex her, instead."
"Yeah, well," Calista said, "My dad's told me loads of times that I'm not allowed to hex my classmates. He never actually said anything about punching them…"
Marcus chuckled. "I told you," he said, "You'd make a hell of a Beater."
He was looking at her almost reverently now; but Calista was still all too aware of what had happened, how things had changed. And besides, she'd had enough of detention for today. She didn't want to give her father an excuse to give her another, or to punish Marcus for talking to her.
"So," she said, "I guess I should just go to my room, now. I have homework, and stuff… and I don't think I can concentrate, here. Hopefully Olivia's still in the Hospital Wing."
"She is," Marcus said, "Or at least, she hasn't come back through here. Dunno why, though, Emily said her nose wasn't broken, or anything. Portia came back, though, so watch out for her."
Calista nodded. "Thanks for the warning."
She looked at him for a minute; even now, after everything that had happened, even knowing that he was likely still cross with her, she couldn't help but notice how nice he looked. The longer she had known him, the more absurd Olivia's comments about his 'troll face' seemed. She thought he looked nothing like a troll; he was, in Calista's opinion, the most attractive boy at school. She only wished she could see him grin, again.
"Good night, Marcus," she said.
"Calista…" He looked, for a minute, like there was something he wanted to tell her, but then he shook his head. "Good night."
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
When morning came, Calista groaned, and pulled her covers up over her head. It had been a rough night.
Portia wouldn't quite start trouble with her without Olivia there to back her up; she'd tried halfheartedly to get Emily to agree that Calista was as ugly as a hag, but Emily had only insisted that she wanted to stay out of it, and refused to either disparage or defend Calista.
Still, Portia knew that Calista had a Saturday morning lesson, and all three of them knew that was the reason that she insisted on staying up half the night, reading, with all the lamps in the room lit.
For perhaps an hour, she and Calista had gone back and forth, lighting them and putting them out, over and over, until Calista had given up, and put her pillow over her head to try and block out the light.
She didn't sleep well at all, and it wasn't only due to the bright lights in the room; she was still unbelievably upset, both with her father and with herself, over the way things had gone with Marcus. She couldn't imagine how she was going to sit across from him for three hours in an Occlumency lesson, when she wanted simultaneously to hide from him and scream at him.
But then… it occurred to her, as she woke up from an uneasy half-sleep, she didn't have to, did she? She had the dormitory room to herself, as both Portia and Emily had evidently gotten up for breakfast already… and after all, her timetable said 'Elective Studies'. Well, today, she wanted to elect not to go.
She rolled over, and tried to go back to sleep.
Perhaps thirty minutes later, the dormitory room door opened. Calista peeked out from under the blanket to see Emily slipping into the room.
"Er… Calista, are you awake?"
"No," Calista grumbled.
"Calista… your dad wants to see you. He's in the common room."
She sat up quickly; she hadn't expected that. He didn't come to the common room often. She supposed she'd assumed that he would find her at dinner, or reprimand her after her next Potions class. She hadn't thought he'd send Emily to fetch her from bed.
"Tell him to sod off," she said, but she was already out of bed, taking her robes out of her wardrobe.
"Calista! I'm not going to tell him that."
"Fine," she said, "Tell him I'll be there in a minute, then. I have to get dressed first."
Emily left, and Calista hurriedly dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail.
She went to the common room, and Severus was indeed standing by its entrance, looking impatient. She noticed that it was much quieter in the common room than it usually was on a Saturday morning. She wondered if the volume would rise promptly when they left.
She decided not to say anything to him yet, not here, where any argument they got into would have a full audience. Instead, she followed him wordlessly through the dungeons, until they reached his quarters.
In silence, Severus led her into the kitchen, and waved his wand over the table. A variety of breakfast foods appeared, summoned up from the kitchens.
"Eat," Severus said, gesturing towards the table.
Calista took her customary chair, and yanked a pastry towards her, stuffing it into her mouth.
Severus went over to the worktop, and brewed a fresh batch of coffee. He filled two mugs, and set one in front of Calista, taking the other to his chair, and sitting down as well. Still, she had not said a word to him. For a second, he recalled similar silences, at this very table, years ago.
She reached for the coffee, and took a sip of it, swallowing the remains of her pastry. When she set the mug down, she looked at him, answering an unspoken challenge.
"I don't feel like having an Occlumency lesson today," she said, "And since you wrote it into my timetable as 'Elective', I guess I can decide that."
"You don't need to have a lesson today,' he agreed, surprising her. "But you do need to stay here with me for the duration of your usual lesson time. So, we can have your lesson after all, or we can talk. Your choice - or should I say, your elective?"
"What's the point in talking?" she asked, "When you're not going to listen to me, anyway?"
He regarded her solemnly for a moment. He hadn't touched his own coffee, yet.
"I wonder, Calista," he said, softly. "How old do you think I am?"
"Huh?" It was such an unexpected question that she forgot to sound combative. "I dunno...Maybe thirty-five, or forty. I've never thought about it."
"I'm thirty," he told her, and he watched her face.
"Hang on," she said, and he could see her working it out, "But… I'm fourteen. That would mean that you… when I was born, you were only-"
"Sixteen," Severus supplied. "That's correct."
"But you were still a student," she said, "Weren't you?"
"I was," Severus said. "Although admittedly, I did not know that I had fathered a child until much later; I do not know that I would have finished school in the same fashion, had I been aware of it."
"Was she still a student?"
"No," Severus said, "She was twenty-five. I never actually went to school with her; I met her through Lucius and Narcissa, and through our shared… interests."
Well, she knew what that meant. She shivered.
"I believe you already understand what I am getting at here, but in case you don't, I'm going to spell it out for you. I engaged in a sexual relationship when I was only two years older than you are now, which produced a child that, had it been required of me, I would not have had the means to care for."
She winced as soon as he said sexual; "Eugh, Dad, come on. I don't need to know that."
"Actually," Severus said, "If you have any hope of convincing me that you should be allowed to enter into a romantic relationship with Mr. Flint, then you do need to know it, and to understand why I don't want you to make the same mistake."
Her face flushed red. "Dad," she said, horrified. "I'm not going… I'm not going to do that!"
"I thought precisely the same thing; and then, I found myself in the situation I've just described to you."
"Okay," she said, "I feel really bad, I mean… that must have been really hard, especially when… especially when you found out, you know, about me…"
"You were the only positive thing to come out of the entire experience, actually, although I didn't know it at the time."
"Okay," she said again, "But… you bought me all those horrible, embarrassing books before. I thought that was the deal, I read the books and we don't ever have to talk about this stuff."
"That was the deal," he agreed, "But I'm afraid it's time for a new arrangement. If you want me to believe that you are mature enough to have a boyfriend-"
The word twisted its way out of his lips, as though it tasted very unpleasant.
"-Then you must convince me of three things. One, that you understand the consequences of getting in over your head. Two, that you will be completely and totally forthcoming with me, in the future, no matter how you think I might react. And three, that the boy you wish to be involved with is suitable."
"Aunt Narcissa says he is," Calista said, because it was the easiest of the three to address.
"Ah, yes, I received such assurances from Narcissa herself by owl yesterday. However, my definition of suitable differs from hers. I don't care at all what sort of family your potential suitor comes from, I have a different set of criteria in mind."
"And what are those?"
"Well, if I told you, it would be too easy for you to convince me he fit them, wouldn't it? Suffice it to say that two of them include being aware of the consequences of getting in over his head, and being completely and totally forthcoming with me, no matter how he thinks I might react."
"Marcus wanted to tell you the truth," she said, "I'm the one that convinced him not to."
"I gathered that," Severus told her, "But let's return to the first point of consideration, shall we?"
"Please don't say anything else about that thing, it's gross."
"Perhaps you are telling me the truth, that you have no intentions of entertaining a… a sexual relationship," he said, and both of them winced involuntarily, "But even if you are, even if you don't want that now, some day you will."
"Eugh, stop it. I should've just said I'd do the lesson today."
"Calista," he said, with quiet authority, "I don't want to do this any more than you do; but you lied to me for six months about a relationship that had you frequently engaging in… in romantic encounters, alone, in the dark, with a male a year older than you. We don't have a choice, any longer."
He paused, and it was true that he looked as distinctly uncomfortable as Calista felt. She reached for her coffee, and took a long, fortifying sip. This was going to be the longest, most embarrassing, awful conversation of her life, she felt certain of it.
"You will want to escalate things physically at some point, or he will, and I need to be sure that you can say 'no' when you are not ready… and that you can actually tell when you are ready, and when you are not."
"I can tell," she said, "I'm not."
"But," he pressed on, "There will come a time when you may think that you are; and I learned the hard way that the first time you think you are, you probably are not. That's why it is important for you to be forthcoming, with yourself, your… your partner… and with me."
"I am never going to come in here to talk about… about that," she said, "You have to realise that."
"If you plan on doing that before you are of age," Severus said, testily. "Then yes, you do have to come talk to me, or to Narcissa, so we can talk you out of it; unless you'd prefer for me to find out after the fact, in which case I cannot promise you there will not be corpses."
His nostrils flared; even considering the possibility of her winding up in that situation while she was still underaged made him want to murder someone. Perhaps he had not been exaggerating when he'd told her so.
"I know that your schooling is important to you," Severus said, "Remember that if you were to wind up in my situation, you would not be so lucky as I was; you would not be able to finish out your time at Hogwarts if you… if you found yourself with child."
"Dad!" she growled, "I am never going to have children, and definitely not while I'm a student. I don't want to… to have sex with Marcus, okay? I don't! I know I'm way too young for that, I'm barely okay with kissing him - if it were anyone else, I couldn't even do that without wanting to vomit, okay? And I really don't want to talk about this anymore!"
"Calista," he said tiredly, "I don't want to, either. But I have to, because you have not been honest with me, and I fear for your well-being. I need you to understand what can happen, because I know firsthand that a teenager can be taken advantage of, and convinced to do things they don't truly want to."
Perhaps she could hear the pained note in his voice, because she stopped scowling, and reached for her coffee again; her eyes were on him, attentively, at least.
"And I am male, Calista. It is so much easier, so much more common, for females to be taken advantage of. It is my charge to protect you, until you are of age - although I expect to be doing it long past then, if you still need it - and I need you to stop fighting me all the way, when I'm trying to do just that."
"Okay," she said quietly, after a moment had passed. "What do you want me to say, then?"
"I want you to tell me the truth," Severus said, "All of it."
"The truth about what? About.. about Marcus?"
He nodded. "That would be a good start."
She finished her coffee, and set the mug on the table, pushing it a little ways away from her.
"You… you have to promise not to kill me until I'm done, then, all right?"
Severus hid a smirk, because it was nearly the same thing Marcus had said to him, days ago.
"I promise," he said, "If you will promise me that you are actually going to be honest, now."
"I… Fine, I promise."
He nodded, and waited for her to start talking.
She told him all of it, from Marcus defending her in the common room years ago when Olivia had teased her in front of everyone, to studying with her, each of them helping each other in different subjects. She told him how he had always been easy to talk to, because he never made fun of her, and when he did tease her, it was always in a good-natured way, and he even specified that it was so.
She told him about learning to fly, that she had finally admitted to being afraid, and he had taken her up with him, reassuring her that he would not let her fall; she told him of her slow progress, and the fact that he never got impatient with her, and, true to his word, she never fell. She told him how she began to realise that perhaps there was one boy who wasn't completely repulsive, and how she had tried to talk herself out of thinking this way for weeks before she'd finally given in to having a crush on him.
She told him, too, how she had been unable to stop herself from blushing around Marcus, and even that she'd missed the first two times he'd tried to tell her that he fancied her. She told him about Olivia saying she liked him too, and trying to kiss him, and that first conversation in the Owlery. She told him how she hadn't believed him at first, but then, slowly, everything he was saying had sunk in.
She told him how he had asked permission before the first time he kissed her, and that she was so nervous she'd been afraid she might faint, right then and there; but that it being Marcus she was kissing made it seem not quite so frightening, because she knew him, and she trusted him. She told him about their ongoing dispute, him wanting to be honest about their relationship, and she insisting that they keep it a secret.
It was a story that she told with an extreme amount of blushing, and false starts, even with some of the hair-twirling that she tried so hard not to engage in; More than once, she'd looked as if she wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but Severus kept his expression neutral and his attention fixed on his daughter, until the story was done.
"And now it's… now it's this," she said. "It's all ruined now, and the more time goes by, the more I realise it's my fault, for wanting to keep it all a secret. But I was just so afraid… I didn't want you to tell me I couldn't see him, and then when you found out, that's exactly what happened."
"I reacted poorly," Severus admitted, grudgingly. "But try to understand, I had proof in one instant that you were lying to me, both of you. How was I to know for certain that you hadn't already -"
"Please don't say it," Calista interrupted, and Severus acquiesced, for once, because he didn't want to say it, either.
"I had no idea what had already happened," Severus amended, "And my first thought was that I had to protect you. I found out, you know, because another student came to me and said that Mr. Flint was trying to take advantage of you."
"But that's a lie," Calista said, adamantly. "Marcus would never do that to me. Whoever said that doesn't know what they're talking about -"
And then it dawned on her. "It was Olivia, wasn't it? She found all of the letters he wrote me over the summer, in my Arithmancy book, and she was reading them out loud."
Ah, well that explained the story he'd heard from Professor Thatch, now didn't it?
"It doesn't matter who it was," Severus said, because he didn't want to give her a reason to procure another detention, "I would have found out very soon; I had already decided to give you another week to tell the truth before I forced it out of you."
"You said you wouldn't do that-"
"I said I would not read your thoughts, as long as you talked to me," he said, paraphrasing the bargain they had struck many years ago, when she uttered her first words to him. "And you had more or less stopped doing that."
"What would have happened?" she asked, curiously. "If I told you the truth, from the beginning?"
"We would have had a conversation very similar to this," Severus said, "And I would have wanted one with Mr. Flint, as well."
"I don't think he would've wanted to do that," Calista said, remembering what he had told her about being afraid of Calista's dad.
"Well, it would seem that he wants to be allowed to date you more than he wants to avoid a conversation with me," Severus told her, "Because he came to see me about you, already, unbidden."
"He did? When?"
"The very next evening."
"What did he… I mean, what did you talk about?"
"What do you think? His intentions with you."
Oh, gods, how embarrassing.
"And… what happened? Did you… did you tell him he still couldn't see me?"
"I told him I wasn't going to change my mind that night."
He eyed her again, and spoke to her seriously.
"Calista, I need you to promise me that this is the end of your lying to me, your being so secretive. I thought we had resolved this years ago, when you came to me about that potion, but evidently I was wrong. From this point forward, I need you to be honest with me, all the time. I may not always react in the way that you wish me to, but I can guarantee that I'll find out everything I want to one way or another, and I'll react much more amicably to whatever happens if you're honest with me as it is happening."
"Okay," she said, exhaling. "I promise."
"This is it," he told her, injecting a forceful levity into his tone. "If you break this promise, I will not trust you anymore. You will not be allowed out of the castle or the flat on your own, you will not be allowed free use of my owl, and you most certainly will not be allowed to date anyone in the impending future."
"I promise, Dad," she said again, quietly but, mercifully, with sincerity. "I hate keeping secrets from you. It's difficult, and it feels awful."
"Then don't do it anymore," he said, sternly.
"I won't," she said, "I really won't."
She rose, and came around to where he was seated. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly.
He waited until she had let go of him, and then he stood as well, and this time he initiated the embrace between them, wrapping his arms around her back, and pulling her close. Even when they were standing, if she stretched just a bit, she could rest her chin on his shoulder.
"So," she said, when they had separated. "What about… what about Marcus?"
"You are forbidden from going to the Owlery with him, or anywhere else where you will be alone together. I will consider everything else."
Well, that was far better than she had hoped for. She nodded. "Thanks," she said, because it seemed appropriate.
"Oh, and one more thing," Severus said, and Calista braced herself, in case this was going to be about something horribly embarrassing again.
"Since it has come to my attention that it may have been unclear, I would prefer if you did not physically assault your classmates, no matter how dearly they might deserve it."
She allowed a sly little smile. "I'll try not to, again."
He nodded. "Well," he said, "Your three hours is up. I expect you're eager to go."
"Actually," she said, hopefully. "I was wondering… maybe we could make a potion together?"
He allowed a small, crooked smile to trace a path across his face. "I believe the Hospital Wing needs some more Burn-Healing Paste," he said, "And I believe you need some practise with it, as well."