42. Waiting Game

"Praise Jesus and all his disciples!" Callie exclaimed as she came out of the castle with her arms spread wide. "I never have to think about History of Magic again!"

She had just finished her last O.W.L., and Neville was waiting for her in the grounds. He smirked as she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist while he spun her around a couple of times. "So happy for you," he said, setting her on her feet. "How was it?"

"I don't care," she replied. "Not going onto N.E.W.T. level anyway." Glancing upwards, she added, "Sorry, Dad."

"He'll forgive you," Neville said, before giving her a quick kiss.

"Yes," she agreed. "He knew I wanted to be a healer, not a historian. And we have you to thank for getting me that Herbology O.W.L."

"Grades don't come out until summer. How do you know that you passed?"

"I feel good about it." She paused. "Not nearly as good as you feel about Potions, though," she said sarcastically.

"I feel great about Potions," he countered. "Snape's never going to let me into his N.E.W.T. class. I'm free."

She shot him a smile and returned the kiss.

"Oi, get a room, won't you?" Red shouted at them as he passed.

"We like an audience," Callie shot back. "And don't ruin my good mood, Weasley."

She really was in a good mood, despite the events of the previous night. Umbridge had finally come for Hagrid, bringing several aurors along to chase him off the castle grounds. Meanwhile, McGonagall had tried to intervene and ended up taking four Stunning Spells to the chest. She was currently in St. Mungo's, but Madam Pomfrey had assured Callie that the woman would be fine. Ought to send her some flowers, Callie thought. And perhaps Umbridge's head on a pike.

But she wasn't going to let her vicious thoughts of the "headmistress" ruin her day either. O.W.L.s were over, classes were over, they could all take a breath, finally, after all those weeks of non-stop studying. "Eh," she said, pulling her tongue out of Neville's mouth, "thought we could do something special to celebrate the end of exams."

With a devilish grin, he asked, "What'd you have in mind?"

"You, me, our place-" she shifted her eyes towards the Whomping Willow "-couple of Irish coffees."

"You're not going to try to get me drunk and take advantage, are you?" he joked.

"It crossed my mind."

He gave her a wink and replied, "Wicked lass."

After one more kiss, she said, "I wanna have a shower first, I didn't get to last night." The astronomy practical had gone on until one in the morning - what with everything that had occurred in the middle of it. "Give me an hour or so," Callie said.

"I can join you if you want," Neville teased, cocking a brow.

She stood up on her toes to whisper in his ear, "All in good time, love."

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As she stood before the bathroom mirror drying her hair with her wand, Callie said to Astoria, "Loan me some of that jasmine perfume again, would you?"

"Aye," her housemate replied. "Look at you, girling it up." She conjured the bottle and handed it over.

"Nice work," Callie complimented, regarding the girl's Summoning Charm. She sprayed her wrists and neck, then got a thoughtful look on her face. "One more thing," she said, turning to her friend. "Can you lend me a skirt?"

Stori eyed her and said, "You think a piece of clothing that fits against my hips is going to make it up over yours?"

"I'll let it out," Callie replied. "Please? Neville said I should start wearing skirts."

With a disbelieving look, Stori said, "And you're going to let your man tell you how to dress?"

"No," Callie said, smirking. "I just wanna surprise him."

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It was starting to get dark by the time she made it to the willow, and Neville was nowhere to be found. "Bloody hell," Callie breathed after twenty minutes of waiting. "He's left me for another." Ten more minutes. Fifteen. Callie conjured a watch and checked the time, wondering if he hadn't gone on to the Shrieking Shack without her. Again, she said, "Bloody hell," and rose to her feet, looking for a stick.

"God damn imbecile," somebody was muttering angrily in the distance. "Arrogant little shit!"

Callie turned to see Snape a hundred yards away, stomping towards the castle looking ruddy pissed about something. Do I even want to know? Callie thought to herself. Glancing back to the tree, the idea that the "God damn imbecile" Snape had mentioned was her imbecile crossed her mind. "Professor?" she called out, running towards him.

He turned to face her and asked, "Have you seen Potter?"

Potter? "No," Callie replied. "Why?" What in the hell has he gotten himself into now?

Snape turned on his heel, making his way up the front steps. Callie followed. "Damn little brat has decided to go play hero again, it seems."

"Ugh!" Callie sighed, throwing her head back in exasperation. Every God damn year! "Where has he gone?" she asked, running to keep pace with Snape as he stomped through the entrance and towards the dungeons.

"Never you mind," he said.

"Oh, come on, he's my friend!" Callie whined.

"And what were you doing out in the grounds at six o'clock at night?"

Waiting to meet with my boyfriend so we could go fool around in the Shrieking Shack. "I was just getting some air," she replied.

"Right," he said, clearly not buying it. "Must've missed the call to arms, I take it?"

She furrowed her brow at him. "What?" she asked.

"Who else has gone?"

"Gone where?"

"Don't try to play stupid, Warbeck, you know I can find out everything I need to know just by looking at you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said honestly. Then, sighing, "I was out there waiting for Neville. I have no idea where Harry is."

He paused to stare into her eyes. She held his gaze and threw her arms out as if to say, See! I have nothing to hide.

Apparently satisfied with what he had seen, he continued on to his living quarters, with her trailing and slipping in after him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

But he ignored her and spoke into his wand. "Potter's gone. No doubt Weasley and Granger are with him. Ginny and Ron. A girl named Luna Lovegood too." He paused, throwing a glance in Callie's direction before he said, "And Neville Longbottom."

She did a double take as he finished, "Report back to me when you've gotten the message. Don't try and save the day, Black." When he was done, he held his wand as if he were about to do a spell, but paused to look at her and ordered, "Get out."

"No."

He wasn't playing around. He came towards her, grabbed her by the arm and forced her into the corridor. But she wasn't playing either. She banged on the door until he opened it up, and instead of telling her to fuck off like she had expected, he pulled her back in.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "You tell me!"

"It appears that your comrades have run off to the Ministry in a foolhardy attempt to rescue Potter's precious godfather - who isn't even there."

None of what he had just said made any sense. Shaking her head, Callie asked, "What?"

Sighing in frustration, he explained, "The Dark Lord has been playing with Potter's mind. He's planted the idea in the boy's head that someone very dear to him is in danger at the Ministry. It's a trick. He's luring him there."

That was a little more clear, but still... What the hell? "'Playing with his mind,' what-" She cut herself off, struggling to comprehend what all was going on.

"He's a Legilimens," Snape said, "he can conjure false ideas in other people's minds. Like I did with you that night I made you feel like you were burning."

"Oh," Callie said. "'Projecting,' you called it."

"Yes."

Callie considered everything, and asked, "Who were you talking to just now?"

He hesitated, before he said, "It's none of your concern."

"It is my concern, you said Hermione and Ginny and Neville too? These are my friends and my boyfriend!"

"They'll have help at the Ministry," he said.

"From who?" Nobody at the Ministry could be trusted to help Harry or anyone else.

But Snape turned to her, hesitating once again, before he said, "The Order."

"What's 'the Order'?" she asked.

"They haven't told you?" he said, looking genuinely surprised. "Thought you were supposed to be one of their own?"

Callie sighed, looking away from him and trying not to be distracted by the fact that apparently they'd all kept something from her. "What's 'the Order'?" she repeated.

He studied her, looking as though he were debating whether or not to explain. But eventually, he sighed and said, "It's a secret society that Dumbledore started during the Great War. Its purpose was to fight against the Dark Lord and his followers." He paused, before continuing, "We reconvened last year after he returned. I've alerted the others that Potter's gone off to the Ministry. They'll be there, people more experienced in combat than a crew of fifteen-year-olds." He shot her a look. "So keep your God damn knickers on, your boyfriend will be fine."

She rolled her eyes, but something he'd said had stuck out to her. "'We reconvened,' you said? Are you in on this?"

He furrowed his brow at her. "What do you think?"

She gaped at him, not knowing what to think - as always. "I guess-" she began, but paused, unable to find any words other than, "Huh." He rolled his eyes, looking away from her. After a moment, she regained her bearings and said, "Well, what're you doing here, then? Go help them!"

"You expect me to throw myself into the fire on account of your friends?" he asked.

Glaring at him, she said, "Tell me you're not really that petty."

"I'm needed here," he said. Then to himself, "And where the hell is Black, why isn't he getting back to me?"

"Who's 'Black'?" she asked.

Waving his hand dismissively, he replied, "He belongs to the Order. He was supposed to stay at headquarters and tell Dumbledore what was going on. Stupid bastard probably went off to the Ministry instead," he concluded in frustration.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Callie asked. He sure hadn't been around the castle as of late.

"I don't know at the moment, but he's been around. He is our dear leader, after all."

Callie took in everything she'd just been told and said, "Christ, all this time there's been a secret anti-Death Eater group I could've joined instead of wasting time at this place?"

Again, Snape turned to her, giving her a disbelieving look. "Merlin's beard, you're just as arrogant as Potter is. Think we all can't get along without a mediocre fifth-year student joining the ranks?"

"I am not mediocre," Callie shot back. "But I could've helped. I could be there now instead of hiding out with you."

Something she had said seemed to strike a nerve with him, because he shot up to his feet and growled, "I am not hiding!"

"You've been hiding all year, ever since You Know Who came back!"

He looked like he might want to rethink smacking her, but then his face took on a somewhat calmer expression. "Oh, that's right," he muttered, his expression turning rather smug, "Potter didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" she asked.

"About the Order," he replied, reclaiming his seat. "About my role in it all."

Callie eyed him. "What role?" she asked. Apparently it wasn't to fight alongside the others.

Studying her - reading her? - he said, "There's a reason I can't go to the Ministry tonight, Warbeck. If the Dark Lord has set up a trap to capture Potter, surely he'll have a few of his servants stationed around the place to ensure all goes as planned."

Callie shut her eyes and sighed, just as confused as ever. "Speak English, why don't you?" she said.

He stood up and came towards her. "How might it look," he asked, "if my fellow Death Eaters were to see me protecting the boy? I don't suppose my master would be too pleased to hear of that."

My fellow Death Eaters. My master. Callie's eyes widened as the realization came to her. "No..." she breathed, taking a step back from him. Shock and horror spread across her face as she stammered, "You- You're not...?"

Show me how to conjure a Patronus. You can't do it, can you?

Dark wizards and witches generally can't.

But you're not a dark wizard anymore.

After a moment, his shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes. "Are you slow?" he asked. "You just saw me warn Black about Potter!"

"Who is 'Black'?!" she demanded.

"Sirius Black, he's Potter's godfather."

She furrowed her brow, and after a beat she exclaimed, "What?!"

"He's Potter's godfather," Snape repeated. "He was wrongly imprisoned and he's been hiding from the law ever since he broke out of Azkaban."

She thought back to Harry telling her that Black was innocent. Bloody hell, was she the last to know everything? Bringing her hands to her head, which was spinning, she said, "Help me out, sir. Talk to me like I am slow."

"That won't be much of a stretch," he said, and she glared at him. "Sirius Black was framed for the murders of those muggles in '81. Dumbledore found out two years ago. The man is now working for the Order, as am I."

She pondered that. "So you're not really a...?"

"No," he replied, "Not really. Although I've found myself in a rather unique position amongst the Dark Lord's ranks. He never did find out that I'd been working against him by the end of the war."

"So..." Callie said, trying desperately to piece it all together. "So he thinks... you're still...?"

"One of his faithful servants, yes."

"So you're... you're working for him?"

"Dumbledore knows," he explained. "He's instructed me to do so."

"Why?" Callie asked, incredulous.

"Because I'm an excellent spy."

Again, she gaped at him. Spy? Working for the Dark Lord? All this time? And here she thought he'd been shielding himself from his former master. Taking refuge at the castle, where he couldn't be touched.

After a while, he said, "You must think me quite the coward, Warbeck. Hiding from the Dark Lord under Dumbledore's watchful eye?"

He was clearly offended that she could think so little of him. "The most brutal dark wizard of recent times," she said, "and you betrayed him. I'd hardly call it cowardly, trying to keep under his radar."

"If the Dark Lord wanted me dead, he'd have seen to it long ago," he said.

"And he doesn't?" she asked.

"I'm too valuable for him to have me killed," he explained, "what with my position in the castle, close to Dumbledore. I can bring him information that no one else can."

"So," she said, finally bringing everything together, "Dumbledore and You Know Who both think you're on their side."

"Your deductive reasoning skills are simply astounding," he remarked.

Ignoring the sarcastic comment, she considered everything she'd just found out. He was a God damn spy for Dumbledore, and for You Know Who. Both men were playing each other, with Snape as their shared pawn. After a moment, she asked, "And whose side are you really on?"

He scoffed. "Do you think I'd be telling you any of this if my loyalties lied with the Dark Lord?" he asked, going to pour himself a drink. "You were so quick to blow the gaff on me when you saw the Mark, surely you'd run right to Dumbledore with the knowledge that I was betraying him." He paused, taking a sip before he went on. "But he knows I have nothing to hide, so please, feel free to check with him if you're not so convinced yourself."

She looked away from him, her head still spinning. It would've been nice to get all this piece by piece, over time, instead of having it dropped on her all at once. I could really use a drink myself, she thought, watching him sip from his glass. Stepping over to him, she picked up the dark bottle. "Red currant?" she asked.

"'Fraid it's poisoned?" he said, cocking a brow at her.

He was challenging her just like he had a year ago - when she'd first found out that he used to be a Death Eater. Used to be, she thought, and in a way, he still is. Never taking her eyes off his, she said, "Enigmatic," and took a swig right from the bottle.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, and she knew he was reading her. "You just can't stand not being there," he commented. "This is what you've wanted all year, a good fight." Shaking his head, he added, "Christ, just like Potter, you run right into the thick of it. No subtlety. You two must have some kind of a death wish."

"I should've been there," Callie said.

"Why, because you'd be the one to save the day?" he asked sarcastically.

But she replied, "Maybe. I could do better than any of them, at least. Neville, Harry... they're all about defense. They wouldn't aim to kill."

He raised a brow. "And you would?"

"If I had to."

"Hmph." He smirked again and said, "If I asked you to perform the Killing Curse on a fly, you wouldn't be able to manage it."

"Flies are harmless. Death Eaters are not."

There'd been a little dig in there that wasn't lost on him. He stared at her, challenging her once again. I could do it, she thought. For somebody I love, I could do it. If I had to.

Still with his eyes on hers, he said, "All right then. Think you have it in you?" He held his wand out for her to take. "Cruciate me."

She eyed the wand before looking back at him. "You seem to have forgotten that's illegal, sir."

"Who's going to know?" he asked.

He's bluffing, she thought, but even if he hadn't been... "I think that's a bit too advanced for me."

"And the Killing Curse isn't?"

"I'm sure I couldn't kill you, sir. Like I said, I've been starting to enjoy our time together."

"I know you want to try it," he said. "Go on then. Trust me, I can take it."

"Oh, I'm sure you could." She wasn't lying. Even if she did try, and was able to manage it, she knew he had been Cruciated before. However, there had to be intent behind the curse in order for it to work, a sort of intent that she couldn't conjure up.

"Hmph," he breathed after a moment. "All bark. No bite."

Studying him, she said, "I'm not a complete monster, sir. Much as I'd love to see you rendered mute, I'd take no pleasure in causing you pain." She set her gaze back on the wand, expecting him to snatch it away when she reached out to take it. Instead, he let her. Studying it carefully, she said, "Ebony?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Thirteen?"

"And a half."

Biting her cheek in thought, she said, "Dragon heartstring."

"Lucky guess."

She wondered if his wand would work as well for her as her own did. "May I?" she asked, and he gave her a nod. She waved it slowly around the room, and every object the spell touched was lifted two inches into the air as the magical energy passed over it. There was a chorus of clinking sounds as everything rose and was gently set back down. The whole time this was going on, she hadn't taken her eyes off his, and she hadn't incanted once.

"You've been practicing non-verbal spells," he noted.

"Yes. I do intend to live through all this, sir."

"No death wish?" he said, raising a brow.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." She paused. "Why do you want the Defense job so badly? It's cursed." He didn't reply; he only stared at her - reading her. You are twisted, aren't you? she thought. What's going on in that fucked up head of yours?

"Wouldn't you like to know the whole sordid tale," he said.

Yes, I would. Her gaze shifted to his left forearm, where she knew that Mark was seared into his skin. Then she made her way back up to his face, his black eyes, cold and outwardly vacant. Like two long, dark tunnels, as Harry had once described them.

...But dark tunnels often held a lot of mystery.

After a long moment, he said in his quiet, velvety voice, "Stop looking at me that way."

"What way?" she asked.

He hesitated, but never looked away from her. "Like you're... intrigued."

"I can't help it, sir. You're intriguing."

Christ in Heaven, had anyone else ever won a stare-down with Severus Snape? As though afraid that she could read him, he turned away from her, his whole damn body, shielding himself from her prying eyes.

"What are we supposed to do now?" she asked, setting his wand back on the desk.

Sighing, he turned back to her. "We wait," he said.

"That's it?"

"What would you suggest?" he asked, but obviously he knew what her answer would be, because he said, "You're not leaving this room until I hear from..." he threw his hand up in frustration "...someone."

Callie sighed to herself. Bloody hell, she thought, wondering what could be happening at the Ministry and fearing the worst. One of these days, Harry was going to get himself killed - he couldn't keep on dodging these attacks forever. And last year, Cedric Diggory had been with him, and he hadn't gotten so lucky. And now the others were with him. Neville was with him. And here she was, unable to do anything but wait.

Her mother's words from the previous summer came back to her - Every day, I watched your father walk out of the house and I was terrified he wasn't coming back! And he was a God damn banker, not a soldier.

Again she sighed, rubbing her exhausted head. Please, God, she thought, bring him back to me.