Chapter Fifty: Comforts and Antidotes
Callen stared at Blaise, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock.
"What do you mean he's dead?!"
Not long after accosting him in the alcove down from the Potions classroom, Blaise had told him to meet back in their Dorm during lunch. Apparently, the smaller boy needed to show him something.
Blaise didn't look amused at Cal's question. "The statement speaks for itself," he replied. "I know that Draco's been killed, because otherwise, this, wouldn't have appeared in my trunk."
Blaise held up a small leather bound journal in his hand. Cal eyed it warily.
Smirking, Blaise said, "Still edgy around diaries, are you?"
"You would be too if a mini Voldemort popped out of – what?!"
"As I said," said Blaise, ignoring Cal's fearful gaze. "I know a lot of things…"
Cal stood from his bed, gritting his teeth and hissed, "How?"
"Well, most of it is written in here," said Blaise, giving the journal a small wave. "But I already knew most of it anyhow. What is interesting though, is how this journal has captured Draco's death. It was one of the charms he'd slaved to place on it. Naturally it's a Dark spell. Listen to this…" Blaise opened the journal to its latest, and last page.
"Dear Journal…"
Ron Weasley grinned maliciously, holding his Extendable Ear tighter as he listened to Blaise Zabini read out the cause of Draco Malfoys death, completely unaware that he was listening in. The two Slytherins were too complacent in their own territory, not even putting up Silencing Charms before talking about such sensitive information.
Ron didn't know what Zabini was claiming to know, nor how he knew it … but he didn't care. The information he was hearing was enough to rid Harry Potter from every decent persons life forever…
Hermione was watching the head table, her concern rising with every Professor she eyed. Each looked almost as bad as they did when Cedric Diggory had been killed during the Tri Wizard Tournament, one and a half years ago. Professor Snape looked the worst in her opinion. None of the other students would have noticed, but after getting to know him better over the summer, she could tell that something horrible had happened.
Hermione's eyes found Lizzy's, who also had barely touched her lunch, and could see that the younger girl had spotted the bleakness surrounding the teachers as well. Or maybe her Empathy made it more noticeable to her?
Whatever the possibilities, Hermione was distracted by Ron, strutting into the Great Hall, an impossibly smug expression on his face. She sat, the endless possibilities whirling through her mind for some time. Ron had half finished his plate of food when two more figures strolled into the Hall, though they were being much more discreet about it.
Cal and Blaise Zabini had arrived at the Slytherin table. Hermione watched as Cal took his customary seat by Liz, Blaise sitting beside him. Hermione noted that Cal seemed unduly shocked by something that must have occurred before the pairs arrival. He looked a little pale too.
Liz must have noticed, or felt, the same, for Cal was giving his sister a reassuring word and had slung his arm over her shoulders. This seemed to satisfy the young Snape, for she beamed up at her brother before turning to her meal.
Shrugging, Hermione put the incident to the back of her mind, mentally memoing herself to ask Cal about it later, then turned her attention to her lunch…
Sensing a strange change in atmosphere around her, Hermione looked around subtly … to see that Ron had stopped eating and was instead staring over at Cal and Blaise … grinning like a madman at a massacre…
I often wondered if life would ever be normal, for someone like me. Though now, I wonder if there was ever such a thing? I imaging that these last few weeks is the closest to normal I'll ever experience.
Apart from the news of Draco Malfoys death and the investigation into it, my life has been rather quiet. Ron has barely said two words to me … but I expected little else from him.
I have avoided my father since our last meeting. It was just after the whole of Slytherin house had held a private Memorial in Draco's honour. I knew he would be there, and to show up was a bad idea on my part … but I needed to be there as well.
He saw me standing there in the background, and as the effect of the Potion had slowly become more potent as time passed, he did not wait for the privacy of his chambers before he flew at me.
He made me bleed for the first time that day…
I didn't fight back until Lizzy had tried to get him to stop. It was the first time my father had lashed out at anyone other than me.
The other Slytherins were just as shocked as we were. They had been told of Malfoys potion in an effort to stop all the questions of lost points and his cruel treatment of me in public.
It was when I saw my father strike Lizzy that a familiar sensation flooded through me. I knew that what Blaise had told me was true, at that moment.
My father had seemed just as shocked by his actions as anyone else, and it was in this window of opportunity that I had struck my father with such a force he had flown backwards, demolishing every piece of furniture in his path. He had stopped at the wall, which still had a large crack down the middle of it.
I personally don't remember most of all this. Lizzy was the one to relay it too me. After knocking my father senseless, and leaving the Slytherins scared for life, I'd imagine, I had taken Lizzy up to the Astronomy Tower with me. I healed her cheek and she helped me calm down.
We didn't return to the dorms for some time, that night, and it was only when we went to leave that she had pointed out that I had not allowed my injuries to heal.
I remember telling her that, because the others had seen, it would seem strange to suddenly return with no injuries at all.
It was also not until that night, that I had realized just what a strange relationship Lizzy and I shared. After I had told her my reasons for keeping my afflictions, he had smiled up at me sadly. I had been holding her gently around the waist, ready to Paft us back to the Dungeons. I still remember clearly how she had run her fingers lightly over my bruises, pausing on the cuts over my eyebrow and on my lip.
I remember staring down at her, completely baffled by her behaviour … when she slowly bent my head and kissed them both lightly. I admit at the time I thought she'd lost her mind. I mean, I'd never seen any sibling exchange a kiss on the lips before. It wasn't until later, after we'd talked a little about it, that we knew that there was nothing romantic behind it. We were both Empathic, able to read and decipher the feelings that almost no one else would know we were feeling. A deeper affection only seemed natural with us, compared to what normal siblings would be like.
Later on that same night, Lizzy had come from her dorm to sit with me by the fire. It was there that she told me that, because of the way I'd been raised and treated at the Dursleys, I needed more physical affection than most others my age. I had never really experienced it before, and so, had acquired a strange craving for it.
I remember scoffing at the idea initially … but she had been right. She had proven it to me in the weeks up till now. An particularly sleepless nights, she would always sneak into the dorm to lay with me, as though she could feel my inner turmoil herself. A always slept peacefully afterwards.
She'd made it a point to hold my hand as we walked to breakfast or dinner together, and it amazed me at how much warmer I felt because of it. She would walk up to me and give me a hug for no reason at all … yet I could burst with happiness each time she did it, walking away beaming at me. She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek every night before she headed off to bed, or if I opted for a waking night, would sit by me with her head resting on my shoulder. She would often fall asleep there, and I adored her for it.
We were up on the Astronomy Tower again tonight. It was Halloween tomorrow, and our fathers antidote will finally be finished. I was extraordinarily nervous about how my father would behave, and that's when Liz had hugged me firmly about the neck, telling me everything would be fine. I was very doubtful, remembering everything he'd done in the past two months, but Liz had brought her lips softly and reassuringly to mine for a brief moment.
It had only been the second time she'd done so, but this time, as I'd looked down at her, she told me, for the first time, that she loved me.
I'm ashamed to say that, I was so shocked by the sudden declaration, I'd asked her to say it again, just to make sure I didn't dream it. She'd again smiled at me with that sad expression…
"I love you, Callie…"
I could have cried, right there on the spot. But I didn't. I just gathered her tiny frame into my arms and hugged her tightly. How could I respond to something like that, when I'd never known what it felt like before? I'd tried to say the same words back to her, but she'd stopped me. I'm glad she did, because, It was such a foreign feeling to me. I don't even know if I love her…
How could she love me if I can't even say it back?
"Because you're my brother … and you don't have to say it. I feel it every day…" Liz spoke up quietly from where she sat on his lap, enfolded in his arms. She sounded as though she'd just woken from a brief nap.
"I'm sorry," Cal said, gently kissing her on the temple. "Did I wake you? Was I not shielding properly?"
"It wasn't your thoughts, Cal," Liz replied sleepily. "Your emotions are everywhere … though it's not hard to guess why…"
"I'm sorry…"
Liz slapped his leg, "Don't apologise, Cal. You don't need to say it to me, and I don't need to hear it from you. I feel it whenever you're around – "
"But I should at least say it back!"
"Cal!" Liz scolded, sounding much older than she was. "I grew up, always hearing from my mother how much she loved me. I grew up, feeling it from her, all the time, okay? I don't need to hear it from you, because your heart tells me every day … you understand?" Cal nodded. "But you've never had that, Callie … so that's why I will continue to tell you how much I love you. Then maybe one day, you'll feel comfortable with the fact that someone does. Then, you will recognise the feeling when someone does love you … and that will be the day when I will hear you speak those words back to me … because you'll know they are the truth…"
When Blaise Zabini rose from his bed Halloween morning, it was to the now familiar sight of Callen and Elizabeth Snape, sound asleep in the senior boys four poster.
He could tell that the pair were more than just brother and sister to each other. After all, he didn't know many siblings that shared a room at their age, much less a bed.
In fact, Blaise had been watching them both over the past few weeks, and he would almost say that the pair were Soul Mates, unfortunate enough to find the other in the form of a sibling.
After seeing them together though, he found he didn't care about their relation to each other. They clearly brought the other comfort and affection, and so long as that was all it remained, he would gladly leave them be.
Severus knew that almost all of his Slytherins didn't buy the story they had created, spouting on about "Accidental Magic" to explain Cal's phenomenal strength, the day he'd clouted him into oblivion. Thankfully though, they knew when to leave a subject alone. None had questioned him about it, and he also knew that they were looking forward to his taking the antidote as he himself was.
In retrospect, Severus was thankful that he didn't make Callen angry very often. The boy had broken his jaw in three places, and had given him several hairline fractures in his cranium. He was also lucky that his neck didn't snap with the force that Cal had hit him with, nor broken his spine when he'd hit the common room wall.
If not for his Metahuman toughness, he'd have been killed instantly.
"They're waiting for you, Severus," Dumbledore's voice called through the laboratory door. "It looks as though the whole of Slytherin has turned out for your, unveiling, as it were … even Miss Granger is here…"
Severus rolled his eyes, "Of course she's here," he muttered, slowly bottling the complete antidote. He added one ladle full to the vial in his hand.
This was it.
He had a lot of apologising to do.
He brought the vial to his lips and tossed it back, almost gagging at the taste of it. Almost instantly, a haze seemed to clear from his mind, the old opinions and ideals returning to him. However, with them, came a conscience that was working correctly. Guilt ripped through his mind, remembering everything he'd said and done to those he cared for and were most proud of.
"Severus?" Albus's muffled voice called gain, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you ready?"
The Potions Master straightened his shoulders and prepared himself. He made a decision right there and then. He no longer cared about his 'Snarky Bastard' reputation … his spying days were over. He would show those that mattered most, that he cared about them, regardless of company, public or private.
"Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered quietly, opening the door.
