Summer Break IV

Calista sat at the small kitchen table, staring at the words of the letter before her, even though she had already read through it so many times in the last three days that the words scarcely made sense anymore.

As letters went, it was largely innocuous. There was just one sentence that set Calista's heart racing in an altogether unpleasant manner.

Hey Calista -

Hope you're having a good summer so far! Staying out of trouble I hope (Nah, just joking, that wouldn't be any fun).

I never thought I'd say this but I kind of wish I was going back to school in the fall. Auror training's not easy - Guess I knew it wouldn't be but it's not like studying for classes at all, it's much more intense. Still, be worth it if I can qualify. Wish me luck!

I get the weekends off at least, and I could use a distraction, so why don't you come over one of these weekends? Mum still wants to meet you properly anyway (don't worry, she's not cross anymore about that thing in Diagon Alley. She understands).

What do you say? Come and see us?

-Tonks

Calista shivered, and clenched her fingers into fists briefly, before releasing them. Merlin, her fingers were so cold suddenly, even in the warmth of the second-level flat she and her father rented in the summers.

Mum still wants to meet you properly

"I doubt there's anything left in that letter to be gleaned from another read-through," Severus commented lightly, as he entered the kitchen, depositing a mug in the basin.

"What if I lose it again?" Calista asked, looking up at him, "What if I go all mental in front of her whole family?"

"You aren't obligated to go," Severus reminded her; nevermind that they had already had this precise conversation at least twice since the letter had arrived.

"But I… I should. Right?"

"That's entirely up to you. It's…" Severus sighed. "Miss Tonks, and her mother, are your family by blood. If you want a relationship with them, then you should go. You know that. However, you don't have to. Certainly, your Aunt Narcissa would advise you against it."

"I wish you could go with me," Calista said, not for the first time.

"Ah, I'm certain your friend - your cousin - would relish the prospect of spending a weekend with her least favourite professor."

"You don't know that you're her least favourite," Calista countered, but half-heartedly, because she for one actually did know that; Tonks had told her, once.

"Be that as it may," Severus said, and he leaned over the worktop to open the window screen as he spied an owl approaching in the distance, "The invitation is for you, and you know that it would be seen as strange for me to accompany you; after all, you are fifteen years of age, as you're wont to remind me whenever you disagree with any restrictions I've set you."

A long-eared owl that was very familiar to Calista swooped into the kitchen; she leapt up to remove the letter attached to its leg. She thought she detected a small, disapproving sort of sound from her father's throat and she shot him a half-hearted glare, but he was suddenly busy rinsing out the mug he'd set in the basin a few moments ago.

"It's from Marcus," Calista announced as she read through the letter, though they both knew that by now. "He wants to me to come visit him this summer."

"Now that," Severus said immediately, waspishly, "Is a visit I will accompany you on."

"Ugh, Dad, no way. That would definitely 'be seen as strange'. Besides, Marcus' parents will be home - he already wrote that, see -," and here she brandished the letter for an instant, but then, remembering something else Marcus had written, she withdrew it hastily before he could actually see any of the writing. "He knew you'd ask, so he told me they'll be home."

"A claim which I can't readily verify," Severus said, nearly petulant, "No, I don't think a visit to Mr. Flint's home is a wise idea."

"Dad, come on," she said, "You're not seriously going to forbid me from seeing him now, after everything!"

"I never said you were forbidden from seeing him," Severus said, although Calista suspected he wanted to say precisely that, "I am saying you are forbidden from visiting him at his home."

"Dad!" Calista growled, and Severus held a hand up, cutting off what was undoubtedly going to become some variation on the old 'It's not fair' argument of her youth.

"He may come here to visit, if you wish. When I am home. And you are not to close your bedroom door while he is here."

"Seriously?" Calista queried, snatching up both of her letters from the table, "Come on, Dad, he's not going to want to come to a professor's house during the summer."

She hoped her tone was sufficiently scathing.

"Then I suppose he doesn't want to see you that badly," Severus said, and Calista took in his expression and knew better than to push the issue further just now, "If you want to see Mr. Flint this summer, then you will see him here."

"We'll see," Calista settled for saying, in acid tones, because it was the limit of what she thought she could get away with.

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

Calista stood in front of the washroom mirror, frowning at her reflection as she attempted to brush mascara onto her lashes from the impossibly tiny brush that had come with the tube. Various cosmetics, all from Narcissa, lay spread across the washroom countertop.

"You're going to miss the train," came Severus' disapproving voice from the kitchen; Calista started and winced as she poked herself squarely in the eye with the brush.

"Go away," she said, even though the washroom door was firmly closed.

"The next one isn't until half past three," he reminded her through the door, heedless of her words, "There's not enough time for you to take that one and be back before dinner."

"Ugh," she growled, not sure if she was cross with her father or with herself, and she angrily jammed the brush back into the mascara tube, "Forget this rubbish."

Severus was waiting in the kitchen, eyebrows raised, when she swept dramatically out of the washroom. "Excuse me?"

"I could just eat dinner in Diagon Alley, with Marcus," she said hopefully, and immediately wished that she hadn't.

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously. "You're extremely fortunate that I am allowing you to travel to Diagon Alley by yourself to meet with that boy. I'd advise you not to test the limits of my generosity further. You will be home for dinner."

It was true; it did seem like something of a miracle that he had relented to her compromise that she and Marcus meet somewhere besides their flat, with Severus present. It was also the first time that she was being allowed to travel to Diagon Alley by herself. Although, she suspected that Severus had alerted Emily's mother, Ferada, that she would be there and asked his acquaintance to keep an eye on her if she wandered near the bookstore.

"Fine," she said, quickly, because she wanted to diffuse his temper before he changed his mind about letting her go, "I'll be home before dinner, I promise. I'm… I'm leaving now."

Severus eyed her wordlessly; if he noticed the cosmetics she had applied, he didn't mention it. He nodded, jaw tight, as she headed for the door of their flat.

"Be careful," Severus reminded her, reflexively, finding his voice at last.

The door swung shut. He didn't know if she even heard him.

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

"So... " Calista tilted her head, regarding Marcus across the small, spindly table where they both sat, though they had long since finished their ice cream cones already, "What happens, then, with your classes next year?"

"I dunno, I'm still sort of figuring it out," Marcus said, shrugging unhappily. "I guess… I guess I have the option to retake some classes for a higher grade. Puts me a year behind though, if I want to try to get to N.E.W.T. level."

"Well, even if you don't want to move on to N.E.W.T. classes," Calista pointed out reasonably, "Wouldn't it be good to earn a few more O.W.L.s?"

"I guess," Marcus said, "Don't see the point if I get kicked off the team, though."

"Have they… have they said whether you can continue to play, then?"

"Not yet," Marcus said, grimly, and then. "Your dad's helping me, though."

"Huh? He is?"

"Yeah," Marcus said, "He said he would talk to Dumbledore for me, see if they'd let me stay on as Captain. Guess he thinks we have a real chance of winning now, maybe because Charlie Weasley's graduated."

"I can't believe he's helping you, I was afraid he'd be awful to you until you graduate, because of me."

"Nah, he's been much better since Christmas. Almost think he doesn't hate me anymore. Anyway, he said I should try to take as many classes as I think I can handle, at least one N.E.W.T. level, and I should re-take a few of my O.W.L. classes and try the exams again next year."

"What are you going to take at N.E.W.T. level?"

"Divination, for sure," Marcus said, and he grinned. "Did I tell you, I got an 'Outstanding' on my O.W.L.?"

"Seriously? For predicting your death every week?"

"I didn't die every week," he said, "Sometimes I just had life-altering injuries."

She laughed. "Unbelievable. How do they even set an examination for a class like that?"

"They gave me someone's star chart, and a diagram of someone's palm. I had to write what I thought would happen to them. Poor sod, not going to end well for him, whoever he was. Anyway, I'm thinking I might continue on with Care of Magical Creatures, too, I got 'Exceeds Expectations' in that one. I dunno what else I'm gonna take yet."

"You know," Calista said, "If you retook some of your O.W.L. classes… you'd be in with me."

"Yeah," Marcus said, "I thought of that. I think that would be fun… except, I think your dad wants me to retake Potions and I'm not sure I want to be in your class if he's the professor… no offense."

"But you have to re-take Potions!" she said, glossing over his comment about her father, "It's incredibly important - and anyway, I can help you, I'm the top student in our year. Hell, I might even be the top student in your year."

She'd added the last bit jokingly, but who knew? It could have been true. She'd made Amortentia, after all, and that had been ages ago.

"Maybe," he said, unconvinced. "I haven't decided yet what to take."

"What did you get, anyway? I know my dad doesn't let anyone take the N.E.W.T. class unless they've scored 'Outstanding'."

"Poor," Marcus said, and Calista winced. "Yeah see, I told you, I don't know if I should even bother."

"I can help. I promise. What else are you thinking of re-taking?"

"I dunno," Marcus said again, and he looked embarrassed, "I'll… I'll figure something out. Your dad reckons they'll probably let me stay on the team, if I take enough. Said Dumbledore would probably agree if it looked like I was still trying to 'further my academic career', or whatever."

"Well… I hope he's right. For the team… I mean, I think you're great as Captain."

Marcus grinned, replacing his uncomfortable expression. "Thanks."

"I mean… you might try having hot chocolate, though."

His brow furrowed. "Huh?"

Calista smiled crookedly. "The Gryffindor team used to have hot chocolate at their practises, and loads of people went to watch, from all different houses, even. I used to go sometimes."

"Yeah, I knew you were going there," Marcus said, slowly. "Some people were saying things a couple years ago, saying you were telling them our strategy. I knew you weren't though, so I told them I asked you to spy on them for me. I guess I always figured you were going because of that Weasley."

"I liked talking to some of the people that went," she said, "Percy, sure, and Tonks - she's my other cousin, though I didn't know that at first. And… I just couldn't stand to be in the common room, most of the time. Olivia and Portia always made it pretty unbearable for me."

"Well, at any rate," Marcus said, "I don't want anyone from other houses coming to watch our practise. Don't want them seeing which plays we're working on. So no hot chocolate."

"Hm," Calista mused playfully, with a small smirk, "Maybe I won't come to watch, then."

He grinned. "I know something you can have that's even better than hot chocolate, to make you come to the practises."

"Oh, yeah? What could that possibly be?" she challenged.

He stood, still grinning, and reached for her elbow, pulling her gently up out of her own chair. He leaned down, still holding on to her elbow, and slipped his other arm around her waist.

"The team captain," he said, and he kissed her, firmly, on the mouth. Ironically, he tasted a little like chocolate, from his ice cream.

When he pulled back, slightly, Calista could feel that her cheeks were warm.

"Yeah," she said, a little breathlessly, "I guess I could come watch."

He let his arm slide, a little reluctantly, away from her waist, and led her back out to the street, with his arm still linked through hers. "How much more time have you got, before you have to go back home?" he asked.

Calista didn't wear a watch, so she reached for his wrist instead to check the time. "The train comes in fifteen minutes," she said, "We'd better start walking that way."

"Oh. Okay. Do you… do you think your dad will let you stay for longer next time? Or maybe he'll let you come to my house?"

She snorted. "Believe me, I've tried on the latter count. It's not going to happen. I suppose I can probably convince him to let me meet you here again though. Hopefully."

"You told him my parents would be home?"

"Several times. He doesn't believe me. Or, he's using that as an excuse because he doesn't think your parents would supervise me closely enough."

"Something tells me it isn't you he's worried about supervising," Marcus said, darkly. "He might not hate me anymore, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't trust me. At least, not when it comes to you. Anyway, he's probably a little bit right."

"Huh? About what?" Calista cut him a suspicious look. "Why shouldn't he trust you?"

Marcus chuckled. "Not about that. I'd never do anything to hurt you - you know that, Calista. I meant, he's a little bit right about my parents. I don't think they'd… you know, I don't think they'd bother us much, if we were hanging around my house. I know my dad wouldn't. He's always saying -"

He stopped, and shook his head.

"No, what?" Calista said, "He's always saying what?"

Marcus was flushing now, as they neared the end of Diagon Alley. The train station was just a block or two beyond it.

"Nothing important. It's just… he was Quidditch captain too, when he was in school, you know? And he's always saying stuff about all these girls he snuck into the locker rooms after practise… but I'm not going to do that!"

Marcus added this last part quickly, when he glanced at Calista and saw an expression on her face that was somewhere between anxious and horrified.

"I only like one girl, and I'm not going to ask you to sneak into the locker rooms with me. I mean… unless you want to…"

She slowed her pace slightly, and Marcus looked at her again. She knew her face was flushed; she didn't know exactly what her expression looked like and she was too flustered to school it.

"Calista, nevermind," he said, quickly, and he repositioned their linked arms so he could hold her hand, reassuringly. "I wasn't… I was just talking rubbish," he said, "No one's sneaking anyone anywhere, it was just something dumb my dad says. And it doesn't matter if he would be paying attention to us or not, I wouldn't do anything that's not right, okay?"

"Not right?" she echoed, because she wasn't sure what else to say but she could tell from his rising panic that she ought to say something.

"You know," he said, looking like he'd rather be talking about something else, "I wouldn't… I wouldn't try to… to do anything if you didn't want me to. Ever. Just like… just like flying upside down, right? Not until you want me to."

They had reached the station now, and the train should be arriving any minute.

"Calista, say something," Marcus pleaded, "I feel like you're cross with me, and I don't even know what I did."

"I'm not cross," she said at last, because that, at least was true. She wasn't sure precisely what she was, but it wasn't cross. And then, partly because she'd meant to say it long ago, and partly due to a desperate urge to change the subject, she said, "Thanks, by the way. For… for the Quidditch thing, a long time ago. Telling them I was spying for you."

Marcus smiled, slightly bewildered but largely relieved. 'Course, Calista. I'll always stand up for you."

"The train's coming," she said, and she wasn't sure if she was sad or relieved, just then, to see it coming up the track.

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

Dinner with Severus had gone remarkably well after Calista returned from Diagon Alley. She concentrated on pushing the last part of her conversation with Marcus far, far towards the back of her mind, and evidently she managed to keep it off her face, too.

"Marcus told me you were helping him try to stay on the team," she said, surprised with how normal her voice sounded, when he asked her how her visit had gone. "That's really nice of you."

"No need to sound so surprised," he said, drily, with an unexplained lingering look out their kitchen window. "Mr. Flint is a student in my House, after all; and I want to win that damn Cup."

"Do you think the Headmaster will let him stay on?"

"It wouldn't be unprecedented."

"Well, I hope he does. Marcus… he really likes playing Quidditch. Personally, I think I'd rather duel a dozen fully-trained wizards at once than fly on my own again, but he likes it."

"Ah," Severus said, pausing while he chewed a mouthful of chicken, "Speaking of dueling… you have further work to do with your young friend, Miss Spratt, I fear. Her Furnunculus hex is absolutely dismal."

Calista blinked. "Daisy? Furnunculus? I didn't teach her that."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "You didn't?"

"No… you were very specific. You said I could teach her Disarming, and the Leg-Locker curse. So that's all I've shown her."

"I must admit," Severus said, and she could feel him studying her face, but she was telling the truth. "I'm surprised. When she came to my office with Miss Nott, who was on the receiving end of her curse, in very much the same fashion as you and Miss MacNair, I was certain you had a hand in it."

"I promised I'd only teach her those two," Calista repeated. "I didn't - I wouldn't lie to you."

"I'm not accusing you of doing so," Severus said, in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"Hang on," Calista said slowly, "You thought I'd taught her curses I wasn't supposed to, and she hexed someone, and you didn't make me come for detention?"

"My main concern," Severus said, "Was that you didn't attempt to teach your friends curses that were too dangerous, too advanced, for them. Under no circumstances should they be shown some of the curses that we've been practising -"

"Dad, I know that."

"Evidently," he said, sounding pleased. "I hoped you had finally learned to obey my boundaries, but I wasn't certain. I limited you to those two spells, knowing that at least you weren't likely to go too far beyond what I'd permitted you to show them. Truthfully, though, I wasn't surprised when you - when it appeared that you'd taught them a few other minor hexes."

She shook her head, disbelieving. "I… I don't even know if I'm more hurt that you thought I'd disobeyed you, or surprised that you didn't punish me for thinking I had."

"Well, before you wallow too much in hurt," Severus cautioned drily, "Consider that you once brewed a sixth-year potion in your wardrobe -"

"That was one time!"

"-in your second year," he continued, as if he had not heard her, but Calista knew him well enough to hear the smallest note of pride find its way into that part of his statement, "And then there was the whole business where you were sneaking around with that boy-"

At this, Calista felt her face flush; not, she suspected, for quite the reason Severus thought. At his words, unbidden, her earlier conversation with Marcus on the way to the train began worming its way into her thoughts.

"How did this turn into you lecturing me?" she interrupted, plaintively, forcing those traitorous thoughts back down, "I didn't do anything wrong this time, remember?"

"Remarkably, that does seem to be the case," Severus agreed. "The dilemma, though, is that someone evidently is teaching young Miss Spratt hexes that she can't quite handle."

Calista had an idea she could guess who it might be; she remembered Eva Selwyn slyly whispering to Daisy after a few of Calista's own lessons with the younger girl. Still, Eva was her housemate and her friend; she wasn't about to rat her out, especially not on mere suspicion.

"I wonder," Severus said, and she braced herself to answer that she had no idea who it could be, "If you'd like to correct the problem, though it wasn't your doing."

"I don't know who taught her," Calista said, "And I don't want to spy on my housemates to find out -"

Severus waved his hand. "I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you if you'd like to teach her the correct way to cast the curse."

"Are you… are you serious?"

"I expect you to impress upon her that she should refrain from hexing her classmates except in the direst of circumstances, unless she's bent on challenging your detention record with me," he said, "But I'd certainly rather reverse a correctly cast hex than the mess that was sent to my office."

"Wow," Calista remarked, "Some Head of House you are."

Severus noted that she sounded impressed. "Ah, and some -"

He stopped, suddenly.

"What?" Calista asked.

"Nothing," he said, but seeing that she was already opening her mouth to ask again, he added almost kindly, "I was only going to register, again, my surprise at your sudden ability to follow rules."

"Oh, I always had the ability," she snarked, "Just not always the inclination."

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

Calista stood, hand poised to knock on the heavy wooden door in front of her. She still had time, she reasoned with herself, to change her mind and return home.

Instead, she slipped her other hand into her pocket, and fingered the edges of the tattered pages she could feel within. She exhaled, feeling not quite so vulnerable.

Perhaps she should feel foolish, for digging her old, ratty journal out after all this time and bringing it with her, but once the idea had occurred to her, it felt immediately right. After all, the reason she was afraid to visit Tonks' mother was that she looked an awful lot like Bellatrix, and what had Calista always counted on to give herself strength when her mother was around?

She reached out, decisively, and knocked on the door.

It was pulled open quickly, and Tonks beamed out at her from beneath a head of spiky orange hair.

"Hallo, then!" she said brightly, "Come on in - I've got a bottle of firewhiskey in my room if you want - er, only joking," she said, when she caught Calista's expression. "You're too young, of course. Anyway, my mum's in here -"

Calista had followed Tonks into the entryway, and Tonks was gesturing to the living room beyond it. Calista avoided looking into the room. What if she wasn't able to remain calm?

"D'you want to say hi before we go in my room?"

"Erm…"

Calista was spared needing to decide, however, when Andromeda herself appeared at the doorway, beckoning both of the girls in.

Calista immediately felt a moment of blind panic; with effort, she kept her mouth shut, schooled her expression.

It isn't her, she reminded herself, over and over again. Not her, not her, not her.

"Come," Andromeda said, "I'd like to meet you properly, Calista. And Dora - I've hardly seen you all week."

"Training's been brutal," Tonks supplied.

"Hm," Andromeda said, drily, and it helped that her voice was sufficiently different from Bellatrix's. "Of course, your father and I would see you more if you came after training once in awhile."

"I do," Tonks cracked, as she bounced into the living room, "Once in awhile."

Calista followed Tonks, hoping her movements weren't too wooden. She was still trying to calm her breathing, to allow her heart rate to slow.

"Nymphadora has a newfound fondness for pubs, now that she's of age," Andromeda said, by way of explanation, as she gestured for Calista to sit in a nearby chair.

"Mum!" Tonks hissed, "Don't call me that."

Calista felt Andromeda's eyes on her; afraid that she was already making herself out to be mental, she perched gingerly on the edge of the chair, slipping her fingers into her pocket again. There; she felt the gentle brush of the pages against the pad of her thumb and exhaled.

"You're awfully quiet, child," Andromeda commented, still eyeing her. "Are you all right?"

"Erm," Calista managed, "Fine."

"So. Bellatrix's daughter. I must admit, I can't imagine having my sister for a mother," she continued, and there was something like sympathy in her voice, "Well, either of them, really, but especially Bella."

"Aunt N- Erm, Narcissa isn't bad," Calista ventured, because it's all she could trust herself to say in a normal tone just then.

"Hmph," Andromeda said, "Dare to marry a Muggle-born wizard, dear, and tell me if you still feel that way."

Tonks made a rude noise in her throat, indicating her opinion of Narcissa.

"Anyway," Andromeda continued, "I'm sorry for whatever she must have put you through. I admit, I was annoyed, that day in the bookstore - not that it's the first time anyone's made that mistake, mind you - but when Dora explained who you were, it suddenly made a lot of sense. I can't imagine Bella was a particularly nurturing mother."

"She - she was the worst you can imagine," Calista said, and she found that one fist was clenched around the book in her pocket. Her aunt would surely think she was mental; just then, Calista didn't care. She just wanted to feel safe, if that was possible while sitting here and discussing her mother with someone who was nearly her spitting image. "But it's not… it's not your fault. Not anyone's, except hers."

Well, she didn't entirely believe that all the time, did she? She wasn't proud of it, but more than once she'd imagined that her father or Narcissa had come to rescue her sooner, and once in awhile, a tiny prick of anger that they hadn't threatened to surface. Still, she always reminded herself, they hadn't known.

"I believe that adults have a responsibility to protect children," Andromeda said, and she was watching Calista a little sadly. "I was burned out of the family tree before you were born, so I didn't exactly receive a birth announcement. If I had known, I like to believe that I would have filed a report with the Ministry to have her investigated, and have the child - you - removed from her home."

Tonks was following the conversation, frowning. She looked uncomfortable; maybe she wanted to comfort Calista, or maybe she just didn't quite want to witness this conversation.

Calista's head was spinning; she hadn't known the Ministry could even do such things. And even if Andromeda had known she existed…

"But how would you have known I needed help," Calista ventured, "Just by knowing I was born? Things could've been - I could've been different -"

Oh, gods; Calista wanted to hex herself out of existence. Where had that come from? Of course she'd always wondered if her mother would have treated her better if she, Calista, had been more willing to accept Bellatrix's rhetoric, if she hadn't been afraid of being a Squib, but she certainly hadn't intended to say so to her aunt that she had just barely met; her aunt that looked too much like Bellatrix for Calista's comfort.

"I very much doubt that, child. I can't, under any circumstances, imagine Bellatrix being anything other than the worst sort of mother. Surely, even Narcissa must have been able to see that. Didn't Narcissa see you, when you were small?"

"I don't remember," Calista said, which was the truth, even though she knew from Narcissa that she had, at least a few times. Andromeda was implying that Narcissa must have known… and hadn't done anything to help Calista.

She found, suddenly, that she held her little book, openly in her lap, clutched in both hands. She felt herself flush, slowly, as Andromeda's eyes fell on it.

"Where did you get that?" Andromeda asked, and her tone had changed; she sounded deeply curious.

"I - erm, it's mine," she said, reflexively, as if she were four or five years old again, and someone was threatening, for the umpteenth time to take the little book away.

"Does it look blank to you?" Andromeda asked, still curious.

"What - of course it's..."

What was happening here? Calista found herself suddenly bewildered by the turn of conversation. She made to stuff the book hastily back in her pocket, but Andromeda plucked it gently from her hands.

"I'll give it back in a moment," she said, flipping quickly through the pages; Calista squirmed, even though she knew the pages would undoubtedly appear blank, since she hadn't willingly handed it over.

True to her world, Andromeda handed the book back. Calista took it quickly and buried it deep in her pocket.

"It's nothing," she muttered.

To her surprise, Andromeda laughed.

"I know precisely what it is," she said, "Though I haven't the slightest why it's working for you now."

"What - what do you mean?"

"That book - that was my book," Andromeda said, "I put the enchantment on it, when I was - oh, thirteen or so. I was tired of my sisters bullying me for not buying into their pureblood mania, and I needed somewhere I could set my thoughts down without having them snoop through my things and find out what I'd written."

"You - you made this book?" Calista echoed, not quite certain she understood.

"Well, I enchanted it," Andromeda repeated, "I always wondered what had happened to it - I thought I'd taken it with me when I left home, but then I could never find it again. I must have left it behind after all."

"I've had it since I can remember," Calista said, slowly. "I found it, in our house when I was quite small. At first I - I didn't even know how to write, but I could scribble in it. My m - She always thought it was just a blank mouldy old book, but I could always see everything I'd written before."

"And there was always just one more blank page, yes?" Andromeda asked, knowingly.

Calista nodded. "I… no one else can read it…"

"Unless you hand it to them willingly," Andromeda finished. "I know; brilliant, isn't it? I'm rather proud of that spell."

"I remember you telling me about that book," Tonks ventured, "You said it was the first spell you ever invented."

"Indeed it was," Andromeda said, with a small, triumphant sort of smile. "I still think it was quite clever."

"But," Calista wondered, "If you invented the spell, how does it work for me?"

"I'm not certain," Andromeda speculated, "Perhaps the enchantment sensed our shared blood…"

"And our shared desperation to keep Bell- to keep her out of our thoughts," Calista managed, in a small voice.

Andromeda regarded her, thoughtfully. "I wonder if, perhaps, that is precisely why you were able to make it work."

"Well," Calista said, hesitantly, "If you're the one that left this book behind, then… I guess… I guess in a way, you did help me, after all."

There was something about that thought that warmed Calista, just slightly. She took a deep breath, and settled more comfortably into her chair.

(¯ˆ·.¸¸.·ˆ¯)

A few weeks before term, Severus leapt up suddenly from the breakfast table. He strode to the window, and pulled the screen open. Calista stood as well, narrowing her eyes to peer out the window, but remained hovering near the table, not quite ready to abandon her breakfast yet.

In the distance, an owl was approaching, its small dark form growing closer.

"You've been acting mental about that window all summer," Calista said, biting off a mouthful of bacon, "Arrawaytee - erm."

She swallowed, impatiently. "Are you waiting for something important?"

"Perhaps."

She rolled her eyes, and sat back down. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't going to tell her. It was probably some article he was waiting to read in Potions Digest, or a letter from Lucius.

The owl swooped in the window, and rather than stop for Severus to untie its burden, it settled in the middle of the kitchen table, hooting expectantly at Calista.

"Hah," Calista said, setting her bacon down, "All that, and it's not even for you."

She expected him to fire back a sarcastic reply; when he didn't she glanced up from untying the letter. He was watching her, expectantly, almost eagerly.

"You can relax," she said, sticking her finger in the envelope and ripping the seal open, "It's not from Marcus. It's something from Hogwarts - they probably changed one of the textbooks, or something."

"Well?" Severus prompted, "Are you going to read it?"

"I'm working on it, can't I finish my breakfast fir- argh!"

She jumped, startled, as a small, metal object fell out of the envelope. It was… it looked like some sort of badge, but it had landed facedown. She unfolded the letter, and as she read it, her jaw dropped slowly open.

Dear Miss Snape,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as a Prefect of Slytherin House, effective on the first day of the next term.

Your school records reflect a dedicated student, earning top marks in your year in several subjects, and an admirable thirst to pursue further learning outside of the classroom.

Furthermore, you have demonstrated a willingness to welcome and guide younger students, and have set a commendable example for promoting unity among the four Houses of Hogwarts.

We know that you will continue to serve as a role model for your fellow students and will take your Prefect duties seriously.

You will be responsible, on the first day of term, for guiding the incoming first years from your House to their common room. Your attendance is also required at a Prefect meeting with your Head of House on the morning of 3 September 1991, where the rest of your duties will be outlined.

Please accept our congratulations on being selected for this position!

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

Severus Snape
Potions Master, Head of Slytherin House

"I can't believe - Dad - they… they made me a Prefect!" Calista managed, reaching out for the badge. She picked it up, turned it over, wondering if it was real.

It certainly felt real, looked it, too. It was just like Endria Folland's badge, with the Slytherin House crest overlaid by a silver 'P'.

"Did you - did you know about this?" she wondered, finally forcing her eyes to look over the letter, and up at her father. She wondered if his look of disbelief would match hers -

Except, when she looked at him, he didn't look disbelieving at all. In fact, he looked - and there was no other word for it - positively gloating.

"Congratulations," he said, and he smiled, a rare, wide, genuine smile. She realised, belatedly, that it was a mirror of the smile that had found its way to her own face as she'd taken in the words of the letter.

"You… you knew?" Calista asked, still holding on to both the badge and the letter, and then, as she glanced at the letter again, "Of course you knew. Your name's on the letter. Do the Heads of House choose the Prefects, then?"

She couldn't believe she'd never thought to ask how it all worked before; but then, she hadn't really wanted to admit to possibly wanting to become one, so that if in the seemingly inevitable event that she wasn't chosen, she needn't feel disappointed.

"Heads of House submit nominations," he said, still smiling fondly in her direction, "The nominees need to receive endorsements from two other Heads of House, or four professors total if they can't get two Heads to agree. If that doesn't happen, the Head of House needs to nominate another student, and another, and so on until the other professors agree. And then, of course, the Headmaster needs to approve of the choices."

"Did you… did you nominate me right away, or did they reject someone else first?" she hardly dared to ask.

Severus snorted. "Really? You need to ask me that? I submitted your name the very day that nominations opened."

"Who… who endorsed me?" she wondered, "Professor Flitwick, perhaps? But then… that's only one Head of House besides you. I don't think Professor Vector likes me that much, so it must have been Professor Babbling… I can't think who else."

"Filius Flitwick, " Severus said, "Stopped me in the corridor on my way to the Headmaster's office to let me know that if I wanted his endorsement, I'd better be nominating you. Ah, and as it happens, you were one of the first students, I believe, to receive approval from the Heads of Houses."

"But who else -"

"Minerva McGonagall," he said, and Calista's jaw dropped for the second time that morning.

"I had no idea she even liked me. I… wow. I can't believe I'm a Prefect."

Severus reached for her then, and, almost hesitantly, pulled her into a hug. He seemed afraid that she might not let him; but then, maybe it was simply that she was nearly as tall as he was, now, and didn't fit quite as well as she once had.

"You deserve it," he said, sincerely. But there was something… something that Percy had told her, once.

"Wait…" Calista said, gently extracting herself from her father's arms, "But… Percy told me once, you can't be Prefect if you have too many detentions. I've had loads."

"Ah," Severus said, and he smirked. "It seems the vast majority of your detentions were assigned by your Head of House, and - curiously - none of those ended up in your school files. I suppose your Head of House must have forgotten to send the records in."

She blinked, rapidly. "You… you mean, you've been covering for me? All this time?"

"Not covering," he said, sternly. "That wouldn't be ethical. I merely ensured that the transgressions I felt you'd already atoned for didn't have the power to follow you throughout the entirety of your academic career."

She grinned, and squeezed the badge in her fist.

"Dad," she said, "I love you, so much right now."

"Well," he said, drawing himself up, and affecting an air of authority, "Don't think to use this as an excuse to begin flouting rules as you please; if I hear that you're abusing my lenience, or your position, you won't have an ounce of free time after all of the detentions I'll have you serving -"

Calista rolled her eyes. "And here I thought we were going to have a moment."

"But didn't you hear me?" Severus teased, smirking. "I was saying, 'I love you, too.'"