Year 4, Chapter 5
Now that Severus seemed like he might possibly warm to the idea of Calista having a boyfriend before another six years had passed, a prospect which she hardly dared to hope for, Calista decided to do everything in her power to prove to Severus that she could be trusted to handle the relationship.
She forced herself to focus even harder than usual on her schoolwork; she caught up on all of the work she'd botched during the previous stressful week, and she stayed up late studying every night. If some of those study sessions happened to be with Marcus, well, she could still use his help in Transfiguration, and he could use hers in Potions, so at least she had a valid excuse.
Olivia had backed down considerably, if not completely, so avoiding another detention was not as difficult as it could have been. She still made snide whispered comments to Calista when they were in their dorm room, and occasionally in Defence Against the Dark Arts class, or if they were in a fairly empty corridor together, but it seemed she had lost her nerve when it came to antagonising Calista in front of a crowd.
When she'd shared this observation with Amelia, her friend had grinned and said, "Well, if we knew that would happen, you could've punched her in the face ages ago. Portia, too."
Of course, even with all of the measures Calista was taking to convince her father to allow her to date Marcus, she supposed it could never hurt to enlist a little support, so she wrote to Narcissa again.
Dear Aunt Narcissa,
You're right, in that I didn't talk to my dad about the situation until after he found out, but I've talked to him now. I realise it was stupid to try and hide what was happening, but at the time I guess I thought I knew what I was doing.
He seems a bit like he might actually allow me to see Marcus after all, if I can make him realise that he can still trust me, and if I can make him see that Marcus is "suitable". I think he wants to know that Marcus is going to be kind to me, more than anything, which of course he is, he always is.
My dad told me that you wrote to tell him that you said you approved of Marcus; thank you for that. I think it helped, some.
Thank you for helping me with the Olivia thing, too. She more or less leaves me alone now.
Love,
Calista
PS - Please tell Draco I said hello. I'll try to bring more stuff for a new potion at Christmas.
She had stretched the truth a bit about the Olivia situation, because despite every obnoxious thing that Olivia had done since that letter from her mother and the strange argument in their dormitory room, she still had an uneasy feeling about the entire situation.
She tried not to wonder precisely what Lucius had said to Olivia's parents, that had made them write something to Olivia that made her cry in a way Calista had never seen, not in over three years of sharing a room with her.
She wanted Olivia to leave her alone, but she didn't want to ruin the other girl's relationships with her family, or anything like that. Maybe Olivia would be that vindictive, but Calista didn't want to be.
She'd never tell him of course, but sometimes, when she wanted to give in to her rage, and plan some humiliation or retaliation against Olivia, she tried to consider what Percy would think of her if she did it; Percy who had first pointed out to her that she had to actually be nice to people if she wanted them to be her friend. It seemed embarrassing to her now that she had once needed to have that explained to her.
She didn't want Olivia for a friend, but she also didn't want to be the sort of person that Olivia was, no matter how much the other girl seemed intent on provoking her. She supposed she ought even to feel bad about hitting her in the face in the corridor outside of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but her desire to be a kind sort of person didn't quite extend far enough to feel regret for that. She hadn't done any lasting damage, and Olivia had been asking for it.
Besides, there was no denying that it had been effective.
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Calista and Marcus sat at a study table together in the Slytherin common room, he frowning over a lunar chart and a complicated diagram that Calista thought would look at home in her Arithmancy book, and she poring over the book that Professor Flitwick had lent her.
Things had certainly gotten awkward between them since Severus had discovered them in the Owlery, but as time went on, and now that they were no longer barred from spending time together, as long as they weren't alone, they were settling into a more normal pattern.
They hadn't kissed since that night, because Severus had still not agreed that she could date Marcus, but at least they were allowed to be friends again - albeit friends that obviously harboured crushes on each other. It was particularly frustrating for Marcus, whose parents had no problem with their relationship, but Calista thought he was being remarkably understanding about it, all things considered.
"I still can't believe you're reading that huge book for fun," Marcus commented, glancing aside at her. He had his forehead resting in his hand, fingers messing up his hair.
"Well, it's not just for fun, I actually want to see if I can learn to do magic without a wand."
"But why?" Marcus wondered, setting his quill down. "I mean, you have a wand, so…"
"Well, what if I was disarmed, in a duel?"
Marcus grinned. "Duh, punch the other guy in the face."
She snorted. "Yeah, something tells me that might not always work." She shifted a little closer to him. "How's your homework coming?"
"I dunno, I'm running out of horrible things to predict. She makes us do these charts every month, and she doesn't like repeats."
"Does she actually check to see if any of your predictions come true?"
"Don't think so… I mean, a couple months ago I was s'posed to be decapitated with a sword, and she never said anything about the fact that I still had my head."
"You're joking," Calista said, shaking her head. "You can't really be turning in rubbish like that?"
"Oh, yeah, everyone does," Marcus said, "It's the biggest joke. I mean, yeah, you get one or two people actually trying to do the research and all that, but they don't do any better than the rest of us."
"How do the O.W.L. exams work for that class, then?" Calista wondered. "I mean, they have to use some sort of objective measure to mark you, don't they?"
"Huh?" He looked at her as if she'd just started speaking French.
"How are they going to test you?" she asked. "The Wizarding Examinations Authority, I mean?"
"I dunno. Hopefully they'll just have us look into a crystal ball, or something. That's what Trelawny's exam was last year. I told her I saw a burning building, lots of smoke…"
"There's got to be some sort of real science to it, right?" Calista asked, reaching for his textbook.
Marcus snorted. "Good luck figuring it out, I tried."
She flipped through the contents of his book. "Well, what about tea leaves, and palm reading?" she asked. "Does that stuff really work?"
"Er - I don't think so."
"What makes you say that?" she asked, flipping to the section on palm reading.
"'Cause I dropped my tea leaves on the floor by mistake before she came over to check my predictions, and she still said they were right."
"Hm." She had his book open on the table in front of her now, and she was squinting at the palm of her hand, and looking back at the book. "I think I might be dead," she commented. "See, look, my life line is broken, there - but, oh, it looks like I'll come back to life at some point, there it is again. I hope this doesn't mean I'm going to be an inferi, or something."
She held her hand out for him to look. He chuckled, but took her hand, and squinted at it. "That's not how it works," he said, "It doesn't mean you're gonna die, it means… like, something bad is gonna happen. Or already happened. I forget which."
"Well, can we find out? That's kind of an important distinction," she teased, pulling her hand back. "I don't know, maybe this is all rubbish. I don't see how my palm can know what's going to happen to me before I do."
He pulled his book back towards him, and studied the same set of pages she had been. "No, hang on, I remember this now. Give me your hand again."
She held it out, and he squinted at her palm carefully, referring back to his book several times. She thought the whole thing was a bit stupid after all, but she didn't mind him holding her hand, so she didn't say so again.
"Okay," he said, "So this is your left hand, that means it's your past. So… you had a traumatic event when you were real little - maybe more than one, the break's pretty wide - and look, it's faint for awhile when it comes back, so that means you were still traumatised, or whatever… but it looks fine at the end, so I guess you're normal again. And let's see-"
She yanked her hand back. "This is stupid. Forget it."
He frowned, looking at her carefully. "Are you okay, Calista? You're making this face…"
"Oh? And which face would that be?"
"Well… you look kind of scared. Like when we went flying the first couple of times."
"I'm not scared. Why would I be scared of a bunch of stupid rubbish in your Divination book?"
"See, I've sort of noticed that you call things 'stupid' when you're afraid of them," he hedged.
She narrowed her eyes into a glare, casting about for a retort, but before she had one, he had reached for her hand again; just to hold it this time, though, not to try and read it.
"Hey, I'm not trying to tease you," he said, as if he were the one studying Legilimency. "I really was asking if you're okay."
"Of course I am," she snapped, snatching her hand away from him.
"Okay," he said doubtfully. He closed the cover of his book, and rubbed the back of his neck. An awkward silence loomed between them, not their first since they'd been allowed back on speaking terms again, but certainly one of their most intense.
"It's… that thing you said," she finally said, her voice quite low, so that he had to strain to her her. "It's just… it's kind of true, is all."
He furrowed his brow. "The… the life line thing?"
She nodded, and rubbed the palm of her left hand absently with the thumb of her right hand, as if she were trying to rub the evidence away.
"Was it… was it what you said before? Your mum, hurting you?"
"Could you just… could you, like, start writing, or something?" she asked him, and it seemed like such an odd request that he just blinked at her, several times in succession.
"Uh… why?" he asked.
"Because it… it makes it easier for me to say things," she confessed. "If you're… if it seems like you're busy. I don't know why, that's just… that's just how I've always been. I think it comes from talking to my dad while he was marking essays all the time."
"Okay," he picked up his quill dutifully, and began to scrawl randomly at the corner of a sheet of parchment.
"Not like - not like that," she said, uncomfortably. She could feel heat rising to her cheeks. Why did she have to have such an odd requirement to feel comfortable talking about her past? "You have to actually be doing something, not just pretending to."
"Erm, okay," he said again, and he pulled his lunar chart closer, frowned at it, and started making notations - or at least, doing a much better job pretending to make notations.
"So… so it was that," Calista breathed quietly, kneeling on the chair, and leaning over his lunar chart, so that their heads would be quite close together, and no one could hear them. "Like you said. Her. She… well, it was awful, for a long time. Until I… until I wasn't with her, anymore."
"When she went to Azkaban?" Marcus ventured, quietly.
"Before that," she said, "There was… someone took me from her, I think I was five or six. I stayed at this house for awhile, with this other family… I don't really remember very much from that… and then there was an orphanage… that was awful too, but nothing was as awful as her."
"What about your dad?" Marcus asked. "He's really protective of you, he must've tried to make sure nothing bad happened to you…"
"Well, that's why he's so protective," Calista confessed; she paused, when she saw that Marcus' quill had stilled. "Uhm… can you keep writing?"
"Sorry," he said, scratching the quill along the page again. Calista relaxed slightly.
"That's why he's so protective," she repeated, "Because he wasn't… I mean, no one was there before, when it was just me and… just me and her. And I think… I mean, I know he had no idea, the kinds of things that had happened, until after, when… you know, when they already happened."
She frowned, and then shook her head quickly. "No; that's it. I just realised - that's why he was so cross about the Owlery… about me not telling him the truth. He doesn't… he doesn't want to find out about something too late to help me again."
Marcus stopped writing again, and a mingled look of hurt and confusion slowly seeped into his features. "But… but I'm not… I don't want to hurt you. I just want to kiss you, honest."
A ghost of a smile flirted with Calista's lips. "Well, I think he might realise that now," she said, "But maybe he wasn't sure, at first."
Marcus nodded, a bit uncertainly. "Calista?"
"Yeah?"
"Erm… can I stop writing, now?"
She flushed, and nodded. "Yeah, I… sorry. did you at least get some of your homework done?"
"Well, no," Marcus said sheepishly, "I didn't know what to write, so I just started jotting down Quidditch moves…" He pushed the parchment towards her so she could see.
"So… it says you're going to do the Porskoff Play next Thursday, because of Jupiter."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "I guess I better start over…"
"Oh. Well… What if I help you, since I'm the one that made you mess it up?"
"Yeah," Marcus said hopefully, "I bet I'll finish a lot faster that way - you don't have to do that," he said, because she was reaching for his textbook again. "I'm just going to make a bunch of stuff up."
She raised her eyebrows, then shrugged, and let go of the book. "If that's what you want… let's see then, why don't you lose a wrestling match with an ogre on Monday… because of, hm, Venus in the seventh house."
"Yeah, that's good." He wrote it down. "Then on Tuesday, I'll… fall down a flight of stairs."
"Because of?"
"Erm… Mars?"
She snorted. "I can't believe this is a real class."
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Dear Calista,
I'm pleased to hear that you've finally spoken to your father, and I hope you've learned your lesson - I don't mean to lecture you, darling, but I don't want to see you put yourself in such a dreadful position again.
I'm very much looking forward to seeing you and your father for Christmas, and Draco is excited to make another potion with you. He expects he'll be the top student in the class next year when he starts at Hogwarts himself, and you know, I think he might be correct.
I've had an idea - do you think your young man would want to come to our home for dinner during the Christmas break? Not on the holiday of course, but perhaps a few days after. Lucius is acquainted with Marcus' father, so it would not seem strange for him to invite him for dinner and have him bring his wife and son. Perhaps that would put your father at ease? At any rate, Lucius and I would like to meet your young man, if you think he'd like to come.
I'm pleased that your other issue has been resolved. I did tell you, darling, that your family will always help you.
Your Loving Aunt,
Narcissa
Actually, having Marcus and his parents over for dinner at the Malfoys' did not sound like altogether a terrible plan, as long as Severus didn't do something mad like threaten him again, in front of his parents. She winced, when she thought of that. Hopefully, Severus was beyond such actions now - but you could really never be certain, with him. She decided to ask Marcus what he thought before she wrote back to Narcissa.
Perhaps two weeks before Christmas, they had a spell of warm days; Calista heard from Percy that the Gryffindor Quidditch team had decided to take advantage of one of them to get in some extra practise, and when Percy invited her to come along, she decided to, even though she wasn't certain anymore if she should be going, given the fact that she was possibly, sort of, almost dating the Slytherin team captain. But it was like Tonks always said: she was really only going for the hot chocolate, and the company.
Tonks was there, as usual. Today, her hair was in a long blonde braid she had pulled to the side; it was quite muted for her, actually, but she did have large aqua-coloured hoop earrings on to compensate.
"Do you ever do the same hair twice?" Calista wondered.
"Not in the same month," Tonks grinned. "Believe it or not, it's still pretty easy to run out of ideas, though. So - haven't seen you at the last couple of practises. Been too busy with schoolwork, or have you decided to disown me, after all?"
"Neither," Calista said, settling into the bleachers beside the older girl. "I wasn't sure… I mean, I feel a bit like a traitor, being here now."
"Yeah, well, tell Flint to supply hot chocolate at their practises, and then he has the right to complain. Hell, if he does that, I'll show up."
"He hasn't, yet," Calista said, "Complained, I mean. I just… I dunno." She shrugged. "So what happened over the summer?" she wondered, "With Charlie and that girl, Jane? Your friends were going to tell you something, on the train."
"Oh," Tonks said, "That. I guess there was a bit of awkwardness over the summer, when Jane went to visit Charlie at the Burrow - that's his family's home - Seems Charlie's brother Bill was there, you know, the one that was Head Boy a couple of years ago?"
Calista nodded. "I remember him - I mean, I didn't know him, but I remember him being Head Boy, obviously."
"Yeah - well, turns out he and Jane had snogged a couple of times his final year, in empty classrooms and such, and somehow that came out."
"So… did Charlie break up with her, then?"
Tonks rolled her eyes. "Nah, he didn't, much to my dismay, believe me. I mean, it was a while ago, before she was with Charlie, and all. One thing's for sure, though - that Jane definitely has a type."
"Wonder if she'll try and go for Percy next," Calista said.
Tonks snorted, glancing down the row at Percy, who had a textbook open on his lap. "She'd have better luck if she were a textbook, wouldn't she? Seems to be the only thing he wants to stick his face in -"
"Come on," Calista said, biting back a laugh. "That's not really very nice…"
"Yeah… I s'pose it isn't. Hey… so I heard this rumor…"
"Yeah? About what?"
"You," Tonks said, "Actually, it's a couple of rumors. I heard that your dad caught you and Marcus snogging in the Owlery, and that you hit that Avril girl in the face and gave her a black eye."
"Oh, yeah… Erm… both of those are true."
"Really?" Tonks sounded interested. "I never heard how the two rumors connected - do they?"
"Well, Olivia was teasing me about Marcus, that's what the last straw was - but honestly, she's been a horrible cow to me for ages. I guess I should feel bad, but -"
"I wouldn't-"
"-I don't."
Calista and Tonks grinned at each other.
"Yeah," Tonks said, after a few seconds. "That girl's got a bit of a reputation for being… well, a horrible cow. Had a first year from my house in tears just a fortnight ago, a Muggle-born girl, called her something awful…"
"I'm sure I can guess what it was," Calista said dryly, "It's her favourite word."
"What a bitch," Tonks said, "Sounds like it was about time someone thumped her, then. Did you get ticked off for it?"
"I got a detention, sorting files for Professor Thatch. It wasn't too bad."
"So," Tonks said, with a sly little grin, "Worth it, then?"
"Oh, yeah," Calista agreed. "Definitely."
"So what happened with Flint and your dad? Everything all right now?"
"Well… nearly, I guess," Calista said, "He still hasn't said I'm allowed to… you know, to have a boyfriend, or anything, and I'm not supposed to be alone with Marcus anymore, but… I mean, at least he's calmed down quite a bit from when he first found out, I thought he was going to murder both of us."
Tonks winced. "Better you than me. Is he… is he real strict, then? I can't imagine having Snape for a father, it sounds like a nightmare."
"He's not a nightmare - most of the time. I mean, he can be a bit strict with some things, yeah, but then others not so much. There's the Marcus thing… he's real strict about that, and about hexing people, he doesn't want me doing that - but I didn't get in trouble with him for punching Olivia, and… well, I can get away with saying things to him that no one else ever could."
"Oh, yeah?" Tonks asked, grinning. "Like what?"
"I dunno… I mean, I tell him to 'sod off' all the time. Can you imagine someone saying that in class with him?"
"Not without being poisoned…"
"Yeah," Calista said, "Stuff like that. I mean… we argue kind of a lot, and it's… honestly, it's a bit fun sometimes, like a contest to see who can finish with the best line."
Tonks' eyes were wide. "Yeah, I can't imagine anyone else getting away with that."
"Well, that's when he's only just irritated. If he's doing that thing where his eyes flash and he looks like he's just swallowed a snake, even I know to shut it right quick."
Tonks chuckled. "Yeah, that's a pretty good description, actually. Still, I can't imagine… I mean, my mum and dad are the greatest, they're not strict about much of anything - unless it's dangerous, I s'pose. But they wouldn't care if I was snogging someone in the Owlery."
"Really?"
"Yeah - I mean, they trust me not to do anything stupid, mostly. And they know I won't take a guy acting like a prat… a lesson Rich Thimble just learned the hard way, by the way."
"Who's he?"
"Hufflepuff guy in my year. I was sort of seeing him, and then he asked me if I could make my - y'know," and she gestured to her chest, "Any bigger…"
"Eugh, what a creep," Calista said, "What did you do?"
She grinned. "Well, I threw my butterbeer in his face, obviously. And then I yelled for the whole pub to hear that if I was gonna be making any part of anyone's anatomy bigger, it wouldn't be mine."
Calista's cheeks flushed with colour. "Eugh!" she said again, "Tonks, that's gross."
Tonks grinned, triumphantly. "Sorry," she said, but she didn't sound it.
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Calista had reached something of a dead-end with her research into the Locking Charm's ancient origins; even though though she had found a rune that could have been part of an early ritual, she had yet to find anything at all about some version of a locking spell that had been used before wands were invented.
She supposed she might be looking for the wrong thing; after all, locksmithing had not really existed prior to the advent of magic wands, so perhaps the ritual she was looking for would be described in some other way - to guard one's possessions, or something - but at any rate, she wasn't having much luck.
Flitwick's book pointed her in a much more useful and interesting direction, however. In it, she had found a passing reference to an old Chinese ritual that had allowed the user to summon a controlled fire. She felt a hum of excitement as she read the passage that quickly fizzled to a dissatisfied sort of disappointment when she realised there were no real details on how the ritual had worked, or whether it had ever been adapted to other uses.
Controlled fire, though...That was something that, if she could manage, might actually prove useful if she ever had to face Bellatrix without her wand. She flipped to the reference index in the back of the book, to see if she could find any source materials listed that might contain more information. There were a few other books listed, history books, that concerned ancient rituals and pre-wand magic, but nothing that seemed as though it would necessarily deal specifically with the controlled-flame ritual.
Calista supposed she could go to the library, perhaps even get a pass from Flitwick to browse the Restricted section… but there was an even easier source for her to obtain books, and he might even be able to recommend specific titles, if she told him what she wanted it for.
She checked the time: eight o'clock. Still an hour before students were required to be in their common rooms for the evening. She marked her page with a spare bit of parchment, and the page in the index as well that listed related books, tucked it under her arm, and decided to go visit her father.
He seemed pleased to see her, when she found him in his study, reading what appeared to be some sort of scholarly article. He set it aside when she entered, and gestured to the thick book under her arm.
"That doesn't look like one of your textbooks," he observed, "Something you're researching, or are you reading it for pleasure?"
"Aren't those the same thing?" she asked, with a sly little smile.
"Ah," he said, "I suppose they often are, for you and I."
"It is research, though," she said, "Optional research. Another essay I'm working on for Professor Flitwick."
"I should have guessed," Severus mused, as Calista balanced the book on one forearm, finding her page with the other hand.
"I'm still researching pre-wand magic, rituals and stuff like that, and I came across this passage here… it's about an old Chinese practise, to summon a controlled flame… I want to find out more about it, but this book doesn't go into much detail -"
"Did you check the list of source references?"
"Of course I did," Calista said, flipping to that marked page; she nearly dropped the book because of the sudden weight differential, but recovered, cradling it protectively as a reflex. If she'd seen her father's face then, she might have noticed a reflective, affectionate sort of smirk on it. "There are a few books about ancient rituals listed, but none of them sounds like it covers this ritual specifically."
"Well, what are the books?"
"An Ancient History of Runic Magicks. Bujold."
"Not worth your time, his writings are quite broad and strictly historical in nature."
"See, this is why I came to you instead of the library," Calista said, "It would have taken me at least ten or fifteen minutes to figure that out on my own."
"What else have you got?"
"Auld Magicks of Ancient Peoples, Lovenworth. And Salt and Stone: Rituals of the Earth, Olafsson."
"You might find the Lovenworth one interesting, but I doubt it will contain what you're looking for. Not much in the Olafsson one either, most likely. Neither of them deals with offensive magic, which is what I presume you're looking for?"
She nodded. "Well, ideally, yes."
"The Lovenworth is almost certainly in the Hogwarts library," Severus told her, "I'm not quite sure about the other one, but if it's not there, and you really want to read it, I imagine you could find it for purchase easily enough."
"Yeah, I'll probably get the one from the library, then," Calista said, "I was hoping to find something more like… like an encyclopaedia of flame spells, or perhaps a book on ancient elemental magic - not just earth, but fire too. Can you think of anything like that?"
Severus considered, and then he regarded her in a measuring sort of way, as if judging whether or not to tell her something.
"You do know of something that would be helpful," Calista guessed, "But you're not sure if you should give it to me."
"Very astute of you," Severus commented dryly. "Yes, there is a particular volume that I think would have what you're looking for…"
"But?"
"It contains quite a few spells that you should not attempt to cast, yet - you haven't got the control."
"I'm not going to try to cast them yet," she said, "I only want the theory behind them, for now."
He hesitated. Then he stood, and beckoned for her to follow him down to his basement workroom. There were, she knew, several more shelves full of books down there, but she was not allowed down there by herself, so she had never really examined them in as great detail as she might have liked.
He seemed to know right what he was looking for; he pulled a slim red volume of the shelf, and held it up, just shy of handing it to her.
"Listen to me carefully, Calista," he said, sternly. "The incantation and instructions for the Fiendfyre Curse are in this book - I know you're eager to learn it, but you don't yet have the required control to cast it, and you must promise me that you won't attempt it."
"I won't," Calista said, "Not until you say I can, I mean."
They had been working their way gradually through hexes and curses - far too gradually for Calista's liking - and he had told her recently that they were still a far way off from her being ready to learn that particular spell.
"I'm quite serious," he reiterated, and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She knew that. "If not properly controlled, the Fiendfyre Curse is powerful enough to level a village the size of Hogsmeade."
"Dad," she said, "I know, I won't try to cast it. I never cast spells you've told me not to, and you know when the last time I hexed someone was, it was ages ago and it was a stupid nothing curse anyway."
He exhaled, and then handed the book to her. "I know, Calista," he said, surprising her. "I know you are generally responsible with magic, but you must know why I have to reassure myself that you won't start indiscriminately casting Dark magic."
"Because I brewed that potion," she said, balancing this smaller volume on top of the book Flitwick had lent her, "And because you'd get in trouble for teaching me all these spells, I know."
"Those are concerns of mine," Severus admitted, "But my principal concern lies in the fact that you're a very effective caster of such spells."
"What? I am?" she shifted the weight of the books to one arm.
"Oh, undoubtedly - surely this is not news to you?"
"Well, sort of, yeah. I just… guess I figured I was doing about average with them."
"Ah, well, you figured wrong, then. Your curses have quite a bit of power behind them."
She glowed, unable to keep from smiling with a good bit of self-satisfaction while she considered this.
"Well, most of the ones we've been practising are Charms, right? Everyone keeps telling me my Freezing Charm is a lot stronger than normal… maybe that's why?"
"I'm certain that's a factor," Severus said, "But… the fact is, Calista, that strong negative memories, those concerning pain, and fear, and anger… the more of those that one has, the stronger their curses tend to be. There is no denying that you possess more than your fair share of those."
As he finished speaking, it was like she was hit with a tidal wave; her eyes went wide, and she felt a curious sort of rushing in her head. She felt, suddenly, a bit dizzy. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake her, and she turned, setting her books carefully on the end of his work table.
Something of what she was feeling must have showed on her face, because Severus was hovering by her side in an instant, his hands coming to her shoulders.
"What's wrong?"
"What if she did everything on purpose, to make me stronger at Dark magic?"
It was an awful question, and it wrenched its way out of her with an agony that was so palpable it was very nearly physical.
Severus lifted one of his hands to her face, and brushed aside a strand of her hair that was near her eyes with surprising gentleness; then he looked directly into her eyes, dark like his own, with a quiet sort of intensity.
"If that was indeed what she hoped to accomplish," Severus said, quietly. "Then make her regret it, should you ever meet again."
She was silent for a moment, and then she nodded, and some of the determination came back into her features. Severus let his hand fall from her shoulder.
"You're strong," he told her, and they both knew he wasn't only talking about magic, anymore. "And you'll only keep getting stronger."
She allowed a very small smile, and then she hugged him, because it had been precisely the right thing for him to say.
"And taller," Severus observed, with a wry, sad sort of smile in his voice, even as his arms came around her. "I'm not sure if I'm quite pleased about that."
"You're still welcome to read cat books to me," she said, pulling back to grin slyly at him. "I'll even try and trick you into eating a vomit-flavoured candy, if you want."
Severus released her. "If that will keep you from being interested in boys, perhaps it's worth the trade-off."
"But I'm not interested in boys," Calista said, "I'm interested in Marcus." She blushed, but supposed that the dim light in his workroom might not be enough for him to see it by. "It's not the same thing at all."
"Perhaps to you it isn't," Severus said, almost petulantly, "But it is for me."
"You know," Calista said, carefully. "Just because… just because I want to go out with Marcus… it doesn't mean that I wouldn't still need you."
"Of course it doesn't," Severus said quickly, suddenly prickly. "You're still a child."
"Well, I think that's a point ripe for debate," she retorted, but then softened again almost immediately. "But it doesn't matter; you're my dad, I'm always going to need you."
"We'll see if you still say that when you're twenty-two," he muttered, but secretly, he hoped she would.
She smirked. "I'll bet you that I will; loser has to eat a vomit-flavoured bean."
He raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said, "I hope you aren't labouring under the delusion that I won't hold you to it, because I will."
"Good," she said, "Same goes for you."
They were both quiet for a minute, and then Calista affected a sly smile.
"So…" she said, "Can I go in the forest, yet?"
"As a matter of fact," Severus said, "Yes, you can. Next month, I need to gather some fluxweed for my sixth year class. I'll take you with me, if you wish."
"At the full moon, or the waning?"
"Full."
"Polyjuice Potion, then," she guessed, and he nodded.
"Can I… can I make it, too?"
"Perhaps. We shall see."
She grinned. "So, a trip to the forest, and a new potion to make. It's going to be a good month, for me - even better if you change your mind about Marcus…"
"Don't push your luck; and I said perhaps, about the potion."
"Perhaps always means 'yes'," she said slyly, "Eventually."
"We'll see about that," he groused, with no real malice.
"That means 'yes', too."
"Oh, does it? Tell me, what does 'you're a miserable brat' mean?"
"It means you love me."
"Perhaps," Severus said, but he was smiling, now, just a bit.
(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)
The final Saturday before Christmas break was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Calista managed to convince her father to skip their Occlumency lesson, so she'd have time to finish her shopping.
It was snowing, and since there were no more classes until after the holiday, the students were in a jovial mood; the Three Broomsticks was decorated with garlands and witchfire lights, and even most of the professors were there, sitting at the long bar and drinking mugs full of honeyed mead, or elvish wine.
After enjoying a round of butterbeers, Calista, Penny, Percy, and Amelia decided to walk down the High Street, visiting the shops. Calista had already purchased for most of her friends, but she wanted to get some sweets for Draco, and she still hadn't thought what she could give to Marcus, though she felt she ought to give him something.
She thought perhaps she should get him something from the Quidditch shop, but she didn't know what he needed; she supposed she could have asked Oliver Wood, but if he knew it was for the rival team's captain, he might give her bad advice on purpose. Besides, even Percy and Oliver had been drifting apart; even though he and Calista were no longer enemies, they were certainly not close friends.
Penny and Percy were talking about their Arithmancy homework, but Calista and Amelia had agreed to put it off until they came back from holiday, and Calista was trying to enlist Amelia's help in finding a gift for Marcus.
"Give him some tongue," Amelia suggested, which Calista did not find at all helpful.
"You're not funny," Calista said, blushing furiously.
"I'm not joking," Amelia countered.
And then, suddenly, there he was. Marcus was walking towards them, with Derek Logan. He grinned at Calista, and she grinned back, reflexively.
"I'll catch up with you later," Derek said, uneasily; he cast a look at Calista that was somewhat wary, and not quite friendly.
"What's his problem?" she asked Marcus, when Derek was out of earshot.
Marcus shrugged. "I think it's something to do with you thumping Olivia."
"I thought he was after Endria?"
"Well, he was, but she told him to sod off. Anyway, who cares? What're you up to?"
"Shopping," Calista said, "For Christmas - I'm nearly done. I just have to get something for my cousin. Oh, and I was going to get dungbombs, for Eva Selwyn."
"What's she want 'em for?" Marcus wondered, falling into pace beside her. Percy glanced back at them, and frowned, slightly. Calista hoped Marcus wouldn't notice.
"Haven't got a clue," Calista said, "I told her I wouldn't ask."
The volume of Percy and Penny's debate rose. Penny turned back to Amelia, appealing to her.
"The variable vector charts," she said, "You had to reach the third order of difference to find the pattern for the next set, right? Percy says you can find it in the second order, but I tried to tell him, that's only up to a point, and then the pattern shifts, by seven-sixteenths of a degree…"
"I dunno, I haven't started it yet," Amelia said.
"What? But it's due the Thursday we get back, and it's a lot of work - tell her, Calista."
"Ehm, I actually haven't started it yet, either. We were going to do it together -"
"You can't still be doing that, neither of you will properly learn the material -"
"Thanks, Professor Clearwater," Calista interrupted, sarcastically. Marcus chuckled, and Percy glared at both of them.
"Honestly, Calista, she's trying to help you. And he probably doesn't even know what we're talking about, he's not even in our class -"
"Watch it, Perce," Amelia warned, but Marcus was already scowling at Percy.
"I don't have to know what you're talking about to know you're a smarmy know-it-all," Marcus sneered. "Both of you."
"Your entirely unsolicited opinion has been noted," Percy said snappishly, "Oh, actually, my apologies, it's been disregarded."
Calista hid a snort. "You sound like me, Perce."
"I don't know what you said," Marcus growled, "But I don't like it."
Amelia and Penny both rolled their eyes.
"It's nearly Christmas," Penny appealed, "Can't we all agree to get along?"
"We were getting along just fine," Percy said stiffly, "Until someone invited a Slytherin -"
"Hey!" Calista and Marcus said, in unison.
"I didn't mean you, Calista," Percy said quickly, "I forget that's what you are, sometimes…"
"That's - I'm still annoyed with you!" Calista said, "There's nothing wrong with being in Slytherin, and in case you haven't noticed, even if you don't like him for whatever stupid reason, I happen to like Marcus very much, so if you'd just stop being a bloody prat to him -"
"He started it!" Percy protested.
Marcus had been glowering dangerously at Percy, but he backed off a bit after Calista's little speech, and slipped his arm around her waist, even though they weren't technically supposed to be dating just now, not until Severus relented.
"Honestly," Penny said, "You sound like children, all three of you. Now, can we enter the bookstore like a civilised group, or should Amelia and I go in without you all?"
"Penny," Percy said, pained, "It's not my fault, surely you can see -"
"Bookstore again, Penny?" Amelia asked, "I thought we were going to Dervish and Banges."
"Yeah, I don't want to go to the bookstore, either," Marcus said quickly.
Percy smirked. "Of course you don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the growl was back, deep in Marcus' throat.
Calista rolled her eyes. "Okay, obviously this isn't going to work. You lot go in without us, I'm going to take off for a bit with Marcus."
Even when they had broken off from the rest of Calista's friends, Marcus' mood didn't improve much, at first.
"Your Arithmancy friends are boring… and I don't know about that Weasley," he said, ominously.
"He's all right, once you get to know him," Calista said, "Penny's pretty good about keeping him in line, most of the time."
"I think he fancies you."
"Trust me," Calista said, "He doesn't."
"I dunno… he's always trying to sound so bloody clever…"
"He always sounds like that, it's nothing to do with me, believe me."
"But you're always together…"
Calista rolled her eyes. "Come off it, I'm always with Amelia, too. Think she fancies me as well, do you?"
"Well, no…"
"Neither does Percy," she said firmly, because she knew by now how he felt about Penny, "And even if he ever did, it wouldn't matter, because I don't fancy him, we're friends, is all."
"You… you definitely don't fancy him?" Marcus asked, as the snow intensified around them, "Not even a bit?"
"Not at all," Calista said, with finality, and Marcus relaxed. "The only person I think of in that way is you."
"So…" Marcus said, pulling her close and smiling slyly down at her, "Can we go kiss behind the Shrieking Shack, then?"
Calista felt her heart racing, in the familiar, exciting pattern it always seemed to, when she thought of kissing Marcus. But she shook her head, with effort.
"I can't," she said, "Not until my dad says it's all right… but he'll come around. I think."
There was more than a measure of doubt in her tone, and Marcus must have picked up on it, because he sighed, heavily.
"You're real close with him, huh?"
"Well, yeah," Calista said, "Aren't you close with your dad?"
"I guess," Marcus said, "But if he told me I couldn't kiss you… well, I still would."
"Remember how that worked out for us, before?"
"Yeah," Marcus muttered. "I guess."
He sighed.
"You have to understand," Calista said quietly, looking up at him. "It's not just… it's not just that he's my dad, and I'm supposed to listen to him. It's… he's really done a lot for me," she explained, "And I can't… I couldn't bear it if he didn't trust me anymore, after everything."
"Okay," Marcus said, unhappily. "I'll wait some more."
"There is something we could do… my aunt, Narcissa… she suggested that my Uncle Lucius invite you and your parents over for dinner, during the holiday break. She… she seemed to think that might make it easier to convince my dad that you're all right."
"Yeah? You think that would work? My parents want to meet you, anyway."
"That's the part that makes me nervous about the whole plan," Calista admitted. "What if… what if they don't like me?"
"'Course they'll like you," Marcus said easily, but she wondered nervously how well she would take it if they didn't, if they reacted to her the same way that Severus had reacted to Marcus, initially.
"I don't know," she said, hesitating. "I'm afraid they might not… I mean, don't they expect you to want to date a -"
She'd been about to say pretty girl, but she changed her mind at the last second; there was no sense in reminding him that she wasn't really one. Besides, she thought that saying something like that would make her sound insecure and annoying, and that definitely wasn't who she wanted to be.
"Quidditch player, or something?" she finished, lamely.
For some reason, Marcus grinned, and shook his head. "No," he said, "They know what to expect. I told them exactly what you're like."
She frowned; she wasn't certain if that was a good thing, or not.
"So… so should I tell my aunt yes, then?"
"It can't hurt," Marcus said, reasonably. "Besides -"
She never got to hear the rest of his sentence, because a snowball hit him in the side of the face.
"Think fast, Flint!" someone howled, and Calista looked over to see the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team; it was Ben Ivans that had thrown it, and a couple of the other boys were already balling up snow in their fists.
"You'll pay for that," Marcus said, grinning, and he let go of Calista to reach down and scoop up two handfuls of snow; he hurled them, one after the other at Ivans;the first one hit him in the forehead, but he ducked from the second one, and threw another one of his own, hitting Marcus in the chest.
After that, there was no avoiding a snowball fight of epic proportions; it was a free-for-all, with no semblance of teams or a goal, except for pelting each other with as much of the heavy, wet snow as they could manage.
Calista chuckled, watching them from a safe distance - or so she thought, until she felt something cold and heavy hit her arm.
"You're not safe just 'cause you're a girl!" Terence Higgs hollered, pelting her with another one.
Well, that settled that. Calista leaned down, narrowly avoiding being hit with another snowball, and packed a handful of snow. She hurled it at Terence; she missed the first time, but the second time she hit him by the ear, and the third time - well, by the time she had made a third snowball, it didn't matter who was hitting whom anymore, all of them were cold, soaked, and grinning ear-to-ear.
"See?" Marcus yelled to her, ducking another onslaught, "Isn't this way more fun than Arithmancy homework?"
"Maybe," she said, taking a snowball to the face; she rounded on Ivans, who had thrown it, and returned the favour.
"Damn it, Snapelet," Ivans said, laughing and shaking the snow out of his hair and eyes, "You've got an arm, for a little thing."
"How does everyone find out about that name?" she howled, hurling another snowball.