Year 4, Chapter 9

"No, it won't work like that," Calista said, reaching out to adjust Daisy Spratt's grip on her wand; the younger girl had her fingers wrapped limply around it, and she was attempting an incantation with so little conviction that it came out more like a question.

"It won't?" Daisy frowned.

"You have to hold you wand steady," Calista said, "And tightly - but don't squeeze it, you'll make it all sweaty and drop it."

"Okay…" Daisy obediently let Calista rearrange her fingers. "Now what?"

"Now tilt it up like this," Calista said, demonstrating with her own wand, "And say the incantation nice and loud - Expelliarmus!"

Daisy's wand leapt out of her hand and sailed towards Calista, who caught it neatly. Calista had been careful though, and had not cast forcefully enough to knock Daisy over. She handed the wand back to Daisy.

"Okay, you try it now," she said, even though Daisy had already tried it half a dozen times. Mildred and Alma watched; both of them had already gotten the spell to work, but they had stayed behind to help Daisy.

A few students straggled through the common room on their way down to breakfast, but most of them were still asleep, so Mildred, Alma, Daisy, Calista, and Eva Selwyn had the room more or less to themselves. Calista had elected to teach the first years during early morning hours, when they weren't likely to be bothered or watched.

Sofia and Eva had both volunteered to help Calista tutor the younger girls, though on this particular day, Eva was draped over an armchair, yawning, and Sofia was still in bed. Calista didn't blame either one of them; she wished she was still in bed, but she'd promised Daisy and the others she'd help them.

"Okay," Daisy said, straightening her shoulders. "Expel - expelliarmus?"

Precisely nothing happened; Calista barely stifled a sigh of exasperation.

"Are you asking us a question, or casting a spell?" Eva wondered, sourly. "At this point, maybe you should just try sticking Gretchen in the eye with your wand."

Daisy blushed. "I'm trying," she said, "It's just - well, it's hard to cast the spell like I mean it when I don't mean it. It's not Calista I'm cross with."

"All right then," Eva said, slipping off the chair. She stepped up to Daisy, leaned in her face. "Cast it on me. And be quick about it, or I'll poke your eye."

"Eva, stop -" Daisy protested. Mildred and Alma looked on with interest.

"Sure, I'll stop," Eva said easily, "When you Disarm me. Go on."

Calista frowned, but decided to let Eva continue; who knew? Maybe it would work. Merlin knew it would have worked on her.

"Expa - expelli-arm-us!" Daisy said, her voice rising into a squeak. Her garbled incantation failed to Disarm Eva, who sighed, and slinked back towards her armchair.

"Honestly," Eva said, "This all seems pointless. Let's just give her a knife to defend herself and -"

Calista didn't hear the rest of Eva's words; she shivered, and a roaring sound filled her ears. A sudden sinking feeling was opening up in the pit of her stomach, and she felt an inexplicable ribbon of fear snaking around the edges of her consciousness; but why?

"Calista?"

Calista sucked in a breath of air, and calmed herself with effort. All of the girls, Mildred and Alma and Daisy and Eva, were looking at her expectantly.

"Sorry - what?" Calista stammered, suddenly uncertain.

"Breakfast." Eva said, slowly and distinctly. Calista got the feeling that it wasn't the first time she'd said it. "Let's come back to this another time."

"Oh," Calista said, nodding. "Erm… yeah. Let's."

What the hell had that been about?

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

The second half of term, after the holidays, always seemed to sneak up on Calista, overwhelming her with an increased load of classwork, studying, and - usually - torment at the hands of Olivia and her cronies.

For once, she didn't really have to worry about the latter, but she had enough schoolwork and studying to make up for it. This year's exams were her last chance to prove to McGonagall that she could keep up with the rest of her class in Transfiguration; if she couldn't, McGonagall had already told her that she wouldn't be able to move up to the O.W.L.-level class with her peers.

She was in the library with Amelia, working on a particularly complex chart for Arithmancy, when Marcus sidled in, evidently looking for her. She glanced up, and felt immediately guilty; she had been so busy, in fact, that she'd hardly spent any time with him that wasn't occupied by studying - and perhaps just a bit of snogging - in a couple of weeks.

"Hey," Marcus said, sliding into the seat beside her at the study table she shared with Amelia. He glanced at Amelia and nodded, neither friendly or unfriendly. He was still wary with most of Calista's non-Slytherin friends.

"Hey," Calista said back, holding her spot on the chart she was working on with her index finger. She looked up at him, and even though she'd been his girlfriend for a little while now, she still noticed how nice he looked, and it made her stomach flutter.

"You doing Arithmancy again?" Marcus asked, and even though she knew he was teasing, Calista scowled.

"Yeah," she said, "We are. Something wrong with that?"

"Nah, s'pose not." Marcus fidgeted, and glanced down at Calista's chart. "Wow. That looks really complicated."

"We're not even halfway done," Amelia volunteered, "It's going to be even more complicated before we're done - look, we haven't even started charting the planetary orbits yet -"

Marcus frowned, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Planetary orbits? Hang on - I thought this was Arith-whatsis, not Astronomy?"

"It is Arithmancy," Calista said, "There's some overlap, with Astronomy and Ancient Runes, and -"

"Everything," Amelia cheerfully supplied. "Most complicated bloody class there is, I'm telling you."

"Er," Marcus frowned. "Why d'you take it, then?"

"It's interesting," Calista said, and Amelia offered up a sly grin, first at Calista, and then she let it flick towards Marcus for an instant.

"Besides," Amelia said, "We can't drop it - we'd lose."

"Huh?" Marcus' brow furrowed.

"Yeah, it's kind of a game," Amelia said, "We make bets on who will drop the class, and it's sort of a point of pride to make it through 'til the end. Especially if you manage to make it into the NEWT-level class. Which Calista and I will, obviously."

She puffed up a bit with pride, and looked to Calista for confirmation; Calista was already frowning at her chart again, muttering something under her breath and consulting the index of the textbook. The assignment was due in a couple of days, and there was a lot more she still needed to add to her chart.

"Yeah… I bet," Marcus said, a bit uncomfortably. He fidgeted again, while Calista and Amelia went back to work.

Calista couldn't concentrate though; not with Marcus so close to shuffled his feet, sidling even closer, and she could feel his eyes on her. It made her blush, and when she glanced up at him and he was watching her just as intently as it felt like he was, it made her blush even more.

Damn it. Would she ever get used to being so close to him? She was fine, most of the time, but whenever they were touching, or close enough to touch, the familiar flush of heat crept into her cheeks and her forehead. For the umpteenth time, she internally chided herself for being such a girl.

"What did you get for the sixth differential of Venus?" Amelia asked, suddenly.

"Uhm." Calista blinked, and shook her head. Marcus was sitting so close to her that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin; how in Merlin's name was she supposed to concentrate on homework? This was why she had taken to studying almost exclusively in the library ever since they'd officially become a couple.

Amelia was looking at her now, eyebrows raised.

"Hellooooo?" she said, drawing the second syllable out, "Calista? What did you get for the sixth differential of -"

"Uhm," Calista said again, hurriedly leaning over the parchment, scanning over what she had written. "I got, erm -"

Marcus leaned over, too. She could feel the warmth of his breath now as well, near the exposed side of her neck. Why was he doing that? He didn't care about her Arithmancy charts, she knew that.

"Marcus," Calista said.

"You got 'Marcus' for your differential?" Amelia echoed; half-playful and half-annoyed.

"No," Calista said, scowling. She cut a glance at Marcus. "What do you want?" she snarled, because she felt embarrassed and it seemed preferable to come across as annoyed.

"Erm…" Marcus pulled back slightly; he blinked, uncertain. "I wanted… well, I thought you would want…"

Calista tried to soften her expression without much success, and waited for him to finish. Amelia smirked, amused. Marcus shook his head, and tried again.

"Thursday's Valentine's Day," Marcus said, finally, "And we have Hogsmeade coming up on Saturday. I thought… well, I'm supposed to take you on a date, right?"

"Uhm." Calista felt her cheeks grow hotter. "I don't know. You don't have to."

Marcus shook his head doggedly. "My Dad says I do. All the guys on the team say I do. Endria told me there's this place in Hogsmeade that people always go… some stup-er, some tea shop. We're supposed to go there."

"We are?"

"Yeah," Marcus said, "I mean - I think we are. If that's… if you want to go with me, I mean."

Calista wrinkled her nose, puzzling it out. It did sound logical, didn't it? If you were with someone on Valentine's Day, you went out to a tea shop with them, even if you didn't really care for tea.

"Okay," she said, "I guess that makes sense."

Marcus looked relieved. "Good. I'll… erm, I'll wait for you in the common room on Saturday morning, then?"

"Yeah, okay."

Marcus stood up, and Calista felt her cheeks begin to cool, presumably returning to a normal colour.

"See you at dinner, then?" Marcus said.

Calista nodded, and Marcus started to walk away. Calista leaned over her parchment again, hoping the complex charts would wrap her mind in logic and numbers, and that Amelia wouldn't tease her. But then she realised that she didn't know -

"Wait." Calista said, her head popping up again, just as Marcus reached the doorway of the library. Marcus paused obediently.

"Erm… am I supposed to… I mean, do I have to wear dress robes?" She hoped not.

Marcus cocked his head. "I dunno...Probably. I mean, I could ask Endria…"

Calista scowled. No way did she want pretty, elegant Endria to find out that Calista didn't know what she was supposed to wear on a date, or even that she was supposed to go on a date for Valentine's Day.

"Never mind," she said, "I'll… I'll figure it out."

"Okay." Marcus looked relieved again. "See ya, then." He slipped away, probably before Calista could ask him any more questions about clothing.

As soon as he was gone, Amelia let out a snort of laughter.

"Honestly, Calista," she said, gasping. "It's lucky both of you are completely clueless. I can't believe you two managed to end up in a relationship."

Calista narrowed her eyes. "Oh, so you're the expert, then?"

"You don't have to be an expert to know you're just supposed to say 'yes' when someone asks you on a date, not 'you don't have to'."

"Well, he doesn't have to," Calista said, defensively.

"Okay, but he's supposed to, on Valentine's Day," Amelia said, "At least one of you realised that much."

"All right," Calista snarled, "If you know everything, then what am I supposed to wear?"

"Dress robes," Amelia confirmed, setting her quill down and regarding Calista seriously. "And cosmetics."

"Ugh, no way," Calista interjected. "I hate that stuff - besides, I don't even know how to do it right, my aunt does it for me when she makes me wear it."

"But think of it like this," Amelia said, "All the other girls that have dates are going to be there, and they're going to be wearing cosmetics."

"So?"

"So don't you want to look better than them, so Marcus won't want to look at anyone else?"

Calista's scowl deepened. "I don't need cosmetics to cast Furnunculus on the other girls, do I?"

Amelia grinned. "All right, that's a good backup plan. But what if there's a professor in there?"

Calista's jaw dropped with horror. "Oh no - do professors go to this stup- this tea shop, too? What if my dad's in there? I don't want him to see me on a - on a date!"

Amelia snorted again. "You've never been to Madam Puddifoot's, have you? I went in there with Penny once, and trust me, there's no way Sn - ehm, your dad - would be caught dead in there."

"Okay." Calista exhaled. "What else do I need to do? Besides that stupid stuff that I am not going to put on my face?"

"Well," Amelia tilted her head thoughtfully, "You should probably get Marcus a gift."

"A gift? Like a Christmas gift, or something?"

"Well, yeah," Amelia said, "Except, you know, instead of 'Happy Christmas' you write something like, 'Be mine' or 'Hugs and Kisses'."

Calista made a sour face. "Eugh. Is there anything you can write that doesn't sound vomit-inducing?"

Amelia grinned mischievously. "'You're my one true love'," she suggested, "'I can't live without you, my darling puffskein'. 'Let's snog the pants off each other - literally'"

"Ew," Calista said, emphatically. "Forget it. I don't want to do this whole Valentine thing anymore. I think I'll just stay in bed until it's over."

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

Before Calista could even worry about her first date, she had to get through Valentine's Day itself, which seemed daunting when she vaguely recalled from previous years that students sent each other cards, and sometimes chocolates and flowers. She felt panicked inside when she realised she had no idea if she was supposed to do that now, too.

Amelia was fairly certain that going on a date with Marcus a few days after the holiday would suffice, and she wouldn't need to send him a Valentine, but Calista had ended up writing to her Aunt Narcissa to make certain.

She'd gotten a reply on Wednesday, the day before Valentine's Day.

Dear Calista,

I'm so pleased to hear that your young man is taking you on a proper date for Valentine's Day. Lucius and I went to Madam Puddifoot's several times; it's a tradition for young couples at Hogwarts, and I'm certain you'll have a nice time. Even if you don't, though, you must pretend. If he thinks you don't like the venue, he might think you don't like him, so be on your best behavior and try not to scowl too much, darling.

Be sure to wear dress robes - didn't I get you a nice pink set for Christmas? Those will do nicely, or if you won't wear pink (I know you, dear), try the pale blue ones with the lace. Don't wear the yellow, as he's already seen you in those.

Match your eyeshadow to your robes, and use the soft grey eyeliner and a touch of mascara - no lipstick, it will come off on your teacup. Dab on some of that lovely perfume I got you for Christmas last year, and wear your hair down, it's quite becoming that way.

You're still quite young, and you and Marcus have not been together for very long, so you may send him a card, perhaps with a short verse written on it, but nothing more. He may give you chocolates or flowers, or perhaps just a card as well.

Have a wonderful Valentine's Day, darling - please write and let me know how it went!

Your Loving Aunt,

Narcissa

If nothing else, it was a relief that she wasn't meant to get him a gift; she had a difficult enough time figuring out what to get him for Christmas, and didn't relish having to deal with two gift-giving holidays. She secretly hoped that no one told Marcus he was supposed to get her flowers; what would she do with them?

Calista had decided to follow her aunt's advice and give Marcus a card. Sofia had a stack of coloured notecards that she was making valentines from - Calista decided not to ask why she needed so many, but gratefully accepted a plain white one.

She made the mistake of asking Amelia for ideas regarding what sort of verse she should put on the card, and by the time her friend had finished 'helping', Calista was blushing furiously and was about ready to resort to her earlier plan of sleeping through the whole bloody holiday.

She tried to think of something herself, but everything she came up with sounded stupid to her; in the end, she decided to draw him a picture on the notecard instead. She drew him walking off the edge of the Quidditch pitch, broomstick in hand, and herself going out to meet him, ponytail streaming behind her, so it looked like she was hurrying.

She eyed the sketch. It wasn't bad, although she wasn't sure if it was enough for a Valentine. She scrawled a small heart on it, in between their two heads, and then she scowled. Now it looked too Valentine-y, didn't it? She nearly tore it up, but then she recalled that she had only borrowed one notecard from Sofia, so she was stuck with what she had. She stuck it inside the front cover of her nearest textbook, so at least it would be out of sight until she had to give it to him.

On Valentine's Day, she brought her textbooks to breakfast with her, so she could keep the Valentine hidden - imagine if Olivia or someone got hold of it? She decided that she would only give it to Marcus if he gave her a card first; that way, there was still a chance that she wouldn't have to give him something with a heart on it; it was dreadfully girly, after all.

She wondered if she was meant to sit with Marcus at breakfast, since it was Valentine's Day, but when she arrived he was sandwiched between the Slytherin beaters, so she sat with Eva and Sofia instead.

She glanced around the table, and noticed that a few girls, mostly the older ones, had flowers; how had she never noticed this before? Still, it was only a few, so it didn't seem like everyone got into this Valentine junk. It would probably be fine if she and Marcus just waited until their date. Calista breathed a sigh of relief and reached for some bacon.

Nearly as soon as she had done so, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to see Marcus - and, as if he had read her mind and decided to do precisely the opposite of what she wanted, he was holding out a large yellow flower - some variety of lily, by the looks of it.

She felt colour rising in her cheeks; Marcus leaned close over her, and spoke in a low voice.

"I know I'm supposed to get roses," he said, and Calista could see him start to blush a little, too. "But I saw this one and it reminded me - erm, it reminded me of how pretty you looked on Christmas, so I figured it would be okay."

Calista felt frozen, uncertain how she was supposed to react; were people watching them? She was afraid to look. She knew he was being quite sweet, knew that she should simply take the flower, and smile at him, and get on with her day, but somehow she felt incredibly awkward - why couldn't she just be normal about the whole thing?

And then Sofia, wonderful Sofia took over.

"Oh, how nice!" she squealed, "You're so lucky, Calista. Here, let's put it in your hair - it will look so pretty!"

Sofia took the flower, and Calista felt a tug somewhere near where she had fastened her ponytail that morning - she managed, with effort, not to flinch - and then both Sofia and Marcus were beaming at her. Calista reached her fingers up tentatively, and felt soft petals; Sofia must have fastened it to her ponytail somehow.

"Erm… thanks," she said, and she wasn't even sure which of them she was speaking to; then she remembered, and hastily grabbed the Valentine card from inside her textbook, and held it out to Marcus. "This is… erm, this is for you."

"Thanks," he said, glancing at the card and offering his trademark grin. She couldn't help but smile back; her stomach fluttered. Maybe Valentine's Day wouldn't be that bad after all.

Then she chanced a glance up at the staff table, and felt her ears go as red as her cheeks. Her father's gaze was unmistakably fixed on the Slytherin table - Calista wondered wildly if he would be cross, even though he had reluctantly allowed their relationship; but he didn't look angry, exactly. She frowned, uncertainly, not quite able to read his expression from this distance. It may not have been angry, but it wasn't pleasant, whatever it was.

"So… so I was thinking," Marcus said, and she shifted her gaze away from her father to look back at him, "Maybe we can go flying later, before dinner."

Calista had been planning on studying in between classes and dinner; she had to practise cross-species switches a lot more before she could hope to pass the section on her year-end exams. She hesitated.

"We can fly upside-down," he teased.

"Absolutely not."

Marcus shrugged, and grinned. "One of these days, you're bound to say yes, right?"

"Again, absolutely not."

"We'll see. Anyway, you know I won't go upside-down unless you say so… but I like flying with you. What's your reason not to go? Homework?"

"No," she said defensively.

"Okay, then, studying?"

"Erm… maybe."

He shook his head, good-naturedly. "You're not studying today, unless you can do it from a broomstick. I'll meet you in the Quidditch pitch at four-thirty, yeah?"

Well, it was Valentine's Day.

"Okay," she relented, "But we're not going upside-down."

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

After dinner, Calista returned to the Slytherin dungeon, and went straight for her Transfiguration book. Admittedly, she'd had a nice time flying with Marcus, but the fact remained that she needed to study, or else she'd be repeating fourth-year Transfiguration.

She headed for a study table in the common room, but there was a particularly rambunctious game of Exploding Snap going on by the fireplace. She decided to take her things to her father's office; whether he was there or not, it was certain to be quiet, and unlike in the library, there wasn't really a curfew - not for her, anyway.

On the way, she remembered the yellow flower from Marcus. She reached her hand up to the base of her ponytail; she could feel only shreds of the flower left, which she picked out of her hair. It must have fallen apart when they were flying - not surprising, really. Just as she pushed open the door to her father's office, she stuffed the remains of the lily's petals into her pocket.

Severus was at his desk, correcting papers. He glanced up when she entered, swept his eyes over her face. It was funny, but most of the time she hardly even noticed the way he always did that, always took in her expression. It was how he always knew, without her needing to say a word, when she was upset.

But then, didn't she do the same thing to him, most of the time? She did it now, looked at him carefully, taking the same sort of emotional inventory that he did.

"What's wrong?" Calista asked, without realising she was going to, just as his eyes returned to the pile of parchment in front of him.

Severus' quill paused, but he didn't look up.

"On Mr. Weasley's essay? Nearly everything."

Calista rolled her eyes. "That wasn't what I meant. And which Weasley? I thought Percy's potion came out fine."

"Not Percy," Severus said, sidestepping the first part of her statement, "Fred."

There was a marked distaste in his tone when he said the younger Weasley brother's name. He started marking again, crossing out entire sections of the essay in front of him.

Calista slipped into the chair in front of his desk, setting her Transfiguration textbook and notes on the edge of it.

"Why are you sad?" Calista asked, bluntly.

Severus' eyes flicked up at her, for only a fraction of an instant.

"Abysmal class performance, and an utterly astounding lack of effort."

"Dad."

He ignored her, scrawled a "T" on the top of Weasley's essay, and moved on to the next one in the stack. Almost immediately, he began crossing out large portions of the second essay.

She frowned, and then she had an idea. She sent an explorative tendril of her mind out, brushed at the edge of his. She saw his quill pause again for an instant, but then he continued on.

Concentrating, she allowed more strength, more presence to flow into the outgoing thread of her thoughts. She prodded at the edge of his consciousness again, making an exaggerated show of trying to slip through his outermost barrier.

"I do hope you're trying to be as evident as a herd of hippogriffs," Severus said, without glancing up. "Else you're in sore need of extra lessons."

"I'm not trying to hide," Calista said, brazenly. "It's just, I remember this deal we had, where as long as we talked to each other, no one had to use legilimency."

Severus did glance up now, and a snarl painted his features.

"That was a one-way bargain, if you'll recall."

"Was it? Hm. Too bad, I guess I don't recall that part."

"Oh, I'm quite certain you do. Shall I reach into your mind, find that memory for you, and remind you precisely how it went?"

Calista shrugged, nonchalantly. "If you want to."

His irritation was quite evident now that she had called his bluff; she knew he wouldn't invade her mind outside of a lesson without good reason.

"Have you come here for a purpose, or simply to annoy me?" he snapped, waspishly.

"Annoying you is a purpose," she reminded him, "But I came here to study, mostly. Then I noticed you were sad, and I remembered that you were sad this morning, too. Although." she wrinkled her nose, recalling, "I was far away. I suppose you could have been cross rather than sad."

"Calista, if you've come to study, then do so. I haven't the time for this."

"Well, I'm not leaving until you talk to me, so if you're really so pressed for time, it's in your best interest to start now, isn't it?"

He set his quill down finally, and looked at her with little else but exasperation.

"You're an insufferable brat."

"I know."

"What is it that I need to tell you, so you'll leave me in peace?" Severus asked.

"I haven't decided yet," she said, "Why don't you start by telling me what's wrong, like I asked when I first came in?"

"Calista," Severus said, and he tried and failed to inject a note of kindness into his overarching exasperation, "I understand what you're trying to do, but I assure you it's not necessary."

"No one ever said it was necessary," she said "And it's never necessary for you to help me work through things when I'm the one that's upset, but you always do it anyway. It's… Dad, I want to help."

"I know," he said, quietly, but with a finality Calista recognized, "But you can't, Calista. There are things… there are some things that no amount of talking will fix, and when it comes to these things, I would prefer it if you stopped pressing."

She was quiet for a moment; after a spell, he turned resolutely back to his marking. Calista stood, grabbing her textbook and her notebook from his desk.

"Imagine if I said that," she said, and there was a rush of emotion behind her words that was something between hurt and anger, "When I was six - or ever. Where would we be now?"

"Calista, it's not the same thing -" he began, but she was heading for the doorway.

"Fine, Dad," she said, interrupting him. "It's not the same thing. Good night."

She left, closing the door firmly behind her. Severus swallowed, and bent his head over his work.

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

On Saturday morning, Calista felt foolish walking into the Slytherin common room in pale periwinkle dress robes, with her hair down, held back by a filmy hairband that matched her robes perfectly. It wasn't the robes or the hairband that made her feel foolish - at least not entirely. It was the fact that she had, after all, attempted to follow the advice of her best friend and her aunt, and had applied a small amount of eyeshadow. She wasn't certain she'd gotten it right, but at any rate she didn't think she looked too ridiculous.

She'd used a little of the perfume too, and even though she'd had the bottle for over a year, it marked the first time she'd ever attempted to use it. She had drawn the line at the other things - the eyeliner, the little brush that seemed designed to poke her eyes out.

When she was finished, she tried to imagine what Aunt Narcissa would say - something kind, something that probably wasn't quite true, like 'You look beautiful, darling' - but she wasn't here, and Calista wished she could just forget the whole thing and go back to bed.

She nearly did; but then she remembered that the whole point of all of this was to look nice for Marcus, to have her first real date with him, and even if the prospect mostly terrified her, she really did want to spend the day with him. Maybe they'd even find somewhere to kiss, after their date; somewhere they wouldn't be bothered, but which wouldn't technically qualify as sneaking off somewhere to be alone.

Gathering her courage, she emerged into the common room - and there was Marcus, waiting for her as he'd said he would, and he looked… she felt a familiar blush rising to her cheeks. He looked really good. He was wearing dress robes too, dark grey ones that made his eyes stand out.

"Hey," he said, and she was almost able to ignore the looks from some of the others that were in the common room; might have been able to entirely if one of them hadn't been Olivia.

Olivia was wearing dress robes too, and she must have gotten up even earlier than Calista to get ready, because she had already left the room when Calista woke up. Olivia's dress robes were also blue, but they were a deep, bright blue where Calista's were soft and pale. Olivia's hair was done up, and she had a lot more make-up on than Calista did; what was more, even Calista could tell that it had been applied expertly.

Olivia was hanging on to Derek Logan's arm, and she shot a smirk at Calista. Well, she had finally gotten what she wanted, then. Calista wondered if Olivia expected her to be jealous that she was evidently going on a date with Derek, but if it would keep Olivia from trying to steal Marcus, then Calista was as happy for her as anyone.

Still, under Olivia's scornful gaze, she couldn't help but feel like she was just an awkward child playing dress-up; she became all too aware of her long nose, her skinny limbs, the awkward height that she had grown to sometime over the last year. At least Marcus was still much taller than her.

"So you… erm, you still want to go, yeah?" Marcus asked.

She nodded, hastily. "Yeah - yeah, let's go."

They chatted on the way there, he about Quidditch and she the essay she was working on for Charms. It was nice, companionable. Last month's snow had nearly melted, and the sun was quite warm for February.

They stepped into Madam Puddifoot's, and Calista was struck by a sudden, desperate urge to step right back out. There seemed to be nothing but couples inside, wall-to-wall and window-to-window, a sea of couples. Nearly all of them were dressed up, and Calista imagined that every single girl in the tea shop was a thousand times prettier in their dress robes than she was in hers.

Marcus led them to a small, spindly table - it looked barely large enough to hold two teacups, but there were two chairs nonetheless. How had he managed to find an empty one? Had he needed to make reservations, or had he just gotten lucky? She had no idea.

The other couples around them were all either kissing or holding hands; Calista felt herself blushing. Marcus didn't expect her to do that in front of a room full of people, did he? Well, she wasn't going to - she didn't even want to be here while everyone else was making such a display.

The windows were steamed up, and paper hearts and doves were strung from the ceiling. Someone came around to take their order, and Calista discovered the sole highlight of Madam Puddifoot's so far, which was that, in addition to what seemed a hundred different types of tea, they had coffee.

The two of them sat, for the space of several minutes, in a strained, uncomfortable silence. Calista cursed herself inwardly; she was mucking all this up, she knew she was, and there wasn't really anything she could do about it. She supposed that she was supposed to reach for Marcus' hand, or lean across the table and kiss him, like nearly every other girl in the room was doing - but she couldn't, not in this horrible stuffy room, with its lurid paper hearts and what felt like a hundred girls that Marcus could have chosen to take here instead.

"So," Marcus said, breaking the silence. She could hear tension in his voice, too; he was probably wondering why she wasn't snogging him already. After all, they were on a date. "You look… erm, you look really… really pretty," he said.

"You look… you look nice too," she said, and even though she did mean it, she knew her words didn't sound sincere; but then, his hadn't, either. She wondered, half-seriously, if there were some sort of ward at the doorway that had stopped her personality from entering the shop with the rest of her.

She drained her coffee, to have something to do, but too late realised that she'd just drunk her best excuse for not acting romantic; what could she do with her mouth, now that her coffee was gone, and kissing him in this place was still definitely out?

"I keep thinking I'm s'posed to start reading these," Marcus said, waggling his teacup back and forth, "Once my tea's gone. Predict the future, y'know?"

"What would… what would you see in them, do you think?" she asked, because she had to say something. But that had been a moronic question, hadn't it? She'd opened the door wide for him to say something like 'A different girlfriend, who doesn't act completely mental when I take her on a date'

But "Dunno," was all he said. She could feel his eyes on her; she didn't want to meet his gaze, because what if she saw something she didn't like? What if he was disappointed, wishing he never brought her? What if he was realising that he didn't much like her at all, come to think of it? She'd know it, if he was; he was too easy to read.

She glanced around the shop again, just to avoid his gaze. Now that she took a good look, she supposed that it wasn't only couples that were here. A couple of older Hufflepuff boys had just come on, and seemed to be scoping the place for girls that weren't with their boyfriends, and Endria Folland was sitting at a table by one of the fogged-up windows with Felicia Lucado, a sixth-year Ravenclaw Prefect.

Now she did look at Marcus, to see if he was looking at Endria; he wasn't, but he looked distinctly unhappy, and nearly as uncomfortable as she felt. Well, there was that, then. She'd officially ruined their first date. She supposed it was inevitable that this would be their last, too.

Why, why couldn't they just have gone for a walk around the lake or something, instead? They could converse just fine, when it wasn't in this stuffy, overheated and over-hormoned room. She knew a spot on the far side of the lake that wasn't readily visible from the castle; if he wanted her to kiss him, she would have happily done it there.

"So, erm…" Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. "This is kind of… you know."

"Yeah," she said, nodding. She wasn't sure what she was agreeing to.

"Can we just… can we just go to Zonko's?" Marcus asked.

Calista suddenly felt like her coffee was burning a hole through her stomach. She nodded, and got up quickly. As soon as Marcus had paid the bill, both of them scrambled out of the shop as quickly as if they'd been chased out.

Despite the terrible way Calista was feeling, being out in the cool pre-Spring air was a relief.

"Wow," Marcus observed, as they set off down the high street, "It was hot in there, huh?"

"Mmm."

"Tea was pretty good, I guess. How was your coffee?"

"Fine."

Marcus nodded; he seemed a lot more at ease, suddenly. Lighter, happier.

"I know you love coffee. I'm glad they had some."

Calista nodded, even though he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were ahead, on the well-lit windows of Zonko's. As the shop swam into view, Calista felt a hard lump in her throat.

If the boy you've had a crush on suddenly decides to ask you out, Tonks' words rang through her head, Don't go to a joke shop instead.

"Calista?" Marcus wondered, pausing outside the door to the shop, "You coming in?"

Well, it was too late to change anything now, wasn't it? She had roundly ruined it, ruined her first date, probably ruined their entire relationship, just because she couldn't act normal in a goddamned tea shop. Maybe her father had been right all along; maybe she was too young to have a boyfriend.

"Yeah," she said, trying not to sound as miserable as she felt, "I'm coming."

She forced her emotions down, stepped into the shop, and did her best to pretend that she was okay. She wandered through the store with him, forcing a laugh whenever he pointed out a clever prank, offering a bare minimum of commentary.

"Nose-biting teacups," Marcus said, cheerfully, "I think these are the only kind I wanna see for a while. Hey, look - coffee-flavoured Sugar Quills. I'm buying you some."

"You don't have to." She supposed it said a lot about him that he still wanted to be her friend, even after their disastrous date. Still, she didn't need a… a pity present, or whatever it was.

"'Course I don't have to," Marcus said, "But I'm going to."

He brought them up the register, along with a packet of Every Flavour Beans that advertised it contained "Only the Most Vile Varieties".

"Think I'll pass these out at the next practise," he said, as they stepped out of the store and back onto the high street.

He stuffed the bag containing his purchases deep into the deep pocket of his dress robes, and reached easily for Calista's hand.

That was the moment that proved too much for Calista; she felt the lump hardening in her throat again, and she jerked her hand away from his.

"You don't have to do that - any of this," she said, keeping her voice steady only with intense effort, "It's - I already know I've mucked everything up."

"Huh?" Marcus furrowed his brow, appearing genuinely confused. "What d'you mean?"

"I -," she swallowed. The lump wouldn't go away. "The… the date. You tried to … to do something nice and I just… anyway, it doesn't matter. My friend, Tonks - she told me, if you're supposed to go on a date, don't go to a joke shop instead."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because - because that's what she did, and then the boy she was supposed to go with didn't like her anymore," she said, "And now we just did that…"

"Hang on," Marcus said, shaking his head, incredulously. "You think I… you think I won't like you anymore, just because we went to a joke shop?"

"Well, that and I acted completely stupid at the tea shop," she said. She felt a faint pinprick at the back of her eyes, and fiercely fought against letting the sensation turn into the blur of tears. Whatever happened, she was so not going to cry on the sidewalk in front of a joke shop. Especially not about a boy.

"The tea shop was stupid," Marcus said.

Now it was Calista's turn to look confused. "What?"

"It was stupid," he repeated, "We should've just come to Zonko's in the first place. Or maybe gone to the Three Broomsticks. Everyone said that's where I should take you, but I didn't know it was so… erm…"

"Vomit-inducing?" Calista suggested, tentatively. Was this… was this going to work out all right after all?

Marcus chuckled. "Yeah, that. Anyway, I like joke shops. You like joke shops, right?"

She nodded.

"So why can't we have a date somewhere we both like going?"

"I guess… I guess we can."

Marcus nodded, and then he reached for her hand again. "Where do you want to go now?"

She considered her options. Then she smiled at her boyfriend. "We could go back to Hogwarts… I know a spot by the lake that you can't really see from the castle."

Marcus grinned, and her stomach fluttered, but not at all in an unpleasant way. He took her other hand, and leaned close, planting just one soft, sweet kiss.

"Lead the way."


A/N: Thanks, everyone for your patience! I know it's been a while since I last updated, but I had family obligations and I started a new, better job and there was an adjustment period. Don't worry, this story's not getting abandoned :)