44. In the Wild
"Didn't we settle this last year?" Susanna asked. "I'm not going anywhere."
Callie tried desperately not to scream at the woman. "You said if it started up again, you would think about it."
"I did think about it," the woman said. "And if you insist on staying in Britain, then so do I."
Callie exchanged a glance with Neville, who was sitting beside her at the Warbeck kitchen table. He'd been staying with them since they came home from Hogwarts, and had no intention of returning to his grandmother's house for the summer.
Looking between the boy and her daughter, Susanna said, "Don't you two gang up on me!"
"Ma'am-"
"I will throw you out of here with my bare hands, Neville," Susanna warned.
"Then I'll go with him," Callie cut in.
"Don't threaten me," her mother said. "If you leave this house, you may as well leave the country too because you're not going back to Hogwarts."
"Oh, come off it with that," Callie said, her arms folded stubbornly across her chest. "I'm staying in Britain. But I can protect myself. You can't."
Susanna gave her an irritated look. "You're sixteen," she reminded.
"So is he," Callie argued, nodding to Neville. "And he took on thirteen Death Eaters at the Ministry."
In a low voice, he reminded, "I did have a little help."
"Please be quiet," Callie muttered.
"Just because you're magical," Susanna went on, "doesn't mean you're any match for a Death Eater. A grown Death Eater who's been fighting for twenty years? Come on, Callie, you're not a soldier, you're a student."
"He's a student." Again, she indicated Neville.
Susanna looked over at him and sighed. "You're a bad influence on her," she said.
The two teenagers couldn't help but smile to themselves at how backwards that was. He influenced her? But he said, "Ma'am, if it were up to me, she wouldn't fight either." Callie slowly turned to give him a how-dare-you sort of look. He went on, "But she can't be stopped. And honestly, she's safer at Hogwarts than on the streets."
"But you're not," Callie said to her mother. "You can't fight back. And the killings have already started. Look what happened with the Brockdale Bridge." A dozen muggles had been killed when the bridge had broken cleanly in half a few weeks ago. Nobody outside of the magical world could explain why it had happened, but everyone in wizarding Britain knew who was responsible.
"Callie..." Susanna said, rubbing her head tiredly.
But the girl cut in, "Don't do this to me. Don't leave me to worry for your safety while I'm away." Then, leaning forward, "Ya know, you're not the only one who lost someone already. I need at least one parent still standing." Her eyes shifted to Neville for a second, but he didn't seem bothered by the remark.
After a moment, Susanna said, "I'm not leaving you on your own."
"I'm not alone, Mum," Callie replied. "And I'm protected at Hogwarts."
The woman sighed, taking everything in and considering it. But after a while, she shook her head. "No," she said. "No, I'm not leaving."
Callie sat back in frustration, crossing her arms again. "Ya know, Professor Snape once asked me where I got my stubbornness from. I guess I can tell him now, it's from you." She stood up and stormed out the front door, with Neville in pursuit.
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An hour later, they were in the Rabbit Hole Tattoo Parlor, and Neville was shaking his head at his girlfriend. "I can't believe you're doing this," he said as the artist worked on her right forearm.
"Really?" Callie asked. "This doesn't seem like something I would do?"
"Well," he shrugged, "I guess on second thought..."
"Remember," she said, "I'm a blood donor. I can take a little pain." After a pause, an idea came to her. "And so can you... Soldier."
He knew exactly what she was getting at, and shook his head again. "No. I'm not doing that."
"Come on," she urged, "Take a walk on the wild side."
"You know I can't," he said, his eyes flickering to the artist. "I'm not eighteen."
This hadn't been a spur of the moment decision, and Callie had bewitched an ID to make herself older. Neville, however, had nothing to indicate his age. But Callie turned to the artist and said, "I'll give you double the cost if you let it slide."
"Aye," the burly man said. Then glancing up at Neville, "Looks a tad green, he does."
"Would you believe he's a war hero?" Callie said in a perky tone.
"Sure, lass," the artist said, both boredom and disbelief in his voice.
Turning back to Neville, she begged, "Come on!"
"What would I even get?" he asked.
Callie looked down at her design. She had chosen her father's initials, D.A.W., at the top of her forearm. Giving it a moment of thought, she replied, "F & A - Frank and Alice." He actually seemed to consider the idea for a moment. "Either that or a great, big lion on your back," she joked.
"Where would it go?"
She pointed to her bicep, and said, "Nobody would see. Except for me."
He bowed his head, debating whether or not to go through with it.
"Tattoos are sexy, Neville," she said with a smirk. When he raised his head to meet her eye, she gave him a wink. They both walked out of the shop twenty minutes later, freshly inked.
Right, Mum. He's the influencer.
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When the two of them had come to Diagon Alley for their school supplies, they had been shocked to see that it was nothing like it had been the day they'd come home two months prior. Several shops had been shut down, wanted posters featuring the Azkaban escapees hung up in the windows of those that remained, and the streets were no longer bustling with activity, but virtually bare.
That wasn't going to stop her though. She'd insisted on returning to the boarded up Florean Fortescue's on the morning of September first, as a symbolic gesture. Bela was at her side, rattling around in his cage, and she opened up a little plastic baggie to give him a treat.
"Bela likes dragon fruit?" she asked. He gobbled up the cube of white, spotted fruit she held out to him, then gave her finger a little nip. "Naughty cretin," she teased, smiling down at him. Turning her attention back on the desolate street, she did a double take when who should appear coming out of Slug and Jiggers Apothecary but Severus Snape. "Professor!" she called out, catching his attention.
He looked quite surprised to see her - and also irritated. Making his way over, he asked, "What are you doing here, Warbeck? Why aren't you at King's Cross?"
"Well, sir, my father and I had a little ritual," she explained. "Every time I'd go back to Hogwarts, he'd take me to Florean's before the train. I've continued the tradition."
He glanced around before asking, "Are you here on you own?"
"I am," she replied.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly to himself as he joined her at the table. "Longbottom can't keep his doe eyes off you any other time," he said. "Now, with everything that's been going on in the country, he lets you out of his sight." He seemed rather miffed at the boy for not standing guard over her.
"You really don't like Neville, sir. Why is that?" After a pause, she cocked a brow and asked, "Are you jealous?" He glared at her, and she shot him her signature wink.
After a moment, he replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm, "Yes. I am jealous, Warbeck." He sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "In fact, I think I've fallen in love with you. Let us run away together and escape this whole mess."
"Oh, if anyone could whisk me away it would be you," she teased. "Seriously, though, I told him to let me alone for an hour. This is my sacred 'father-daughter time.'"
With that, he made to get up and leave, but she reached out to grab him. "Eh!" she said. "Don't go! I can make one exception. Catching Severus Snape in the wild is an extenuating circumstance."
Hesitantly he returned to his seat, and he took her arm in his hand, noticing the tattoo and running his fingers over it. "David A. Warbeck?" he said.
"Right, sir." Shifting her eyes to his arm, she added, "Now I have my own mark."
He scowled at her, then let her go and sat back. "Speaking of which," he said, "you just had to go trotting off around the most magical spot in all of London by yourself. Have you not noticed the wanted signs plastered all over every window on this street?"
"I have, sir. And I find it hard to believe anybody in those pictures would actually show their face around Diagon Alley, for that exact reason."
"Bold of you to assume they'd have either the intelligence or the cowardice to hide themselves from public sight. They believe they're untouchable, what with the Dark Lord's power and protection." He paused, dropping his eyes from hers for a second, before he said in a low voice, "Fortescue's dead."
Callie froze, gaping at him. She had assumed that business wasn't exactly booming what with the lack of visitors to the area. The idea that the friendly ice cream man had been killed had never once crossed her mind. "He ran a fucking ice cream parlour," she muttered, a hint of anger coloring her tone. "Why him?"
"I don't know," Snape replied with a sigh. "There are certain things I'm not let in on."
Christ, Mr. Fortescue? The man behind her and her father's back to school tradition? Last year she had stopped in before boarding the train at the start of term, after the Christmas break, and after the Easter holiday. Her father's death didn't have to put an end to the ritual, but now that Mr. Fortescue himself was gone...
We're never going to get to do this again.
She had to fight to keep a tear from falling. Then she asked, "Anyone else?" Nodding in the direction of the boarded up wand shop, "Ollivander?"
He didn't say anything, but the look on his face was enough.
Sitting back with a sigh, she mused, "And so it begins."
They sat in silence for another minute, before he rose up. "Come along," he said, gesturing for her to join him.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Grabbing up her three luggage bags, he said, "I'm taking you to King's Cross." Callie stood up and grabbed Bela's cage. "Still have that ugly thing?" Snape asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm quite fond of him." Then after a pause, "Kind of reminds me of you."
They passed through the Leaky Cauldron and out into muggle territory. He put her in a taxi and loaded her bags into the trunk, before getting in with her. They rode in silence for a while, Callie gazing out the window and thinking of poor Mr. Fortescue, her dad, and everything that had been going on in the world.
Eventually, Snape got her attention when he called out, "Can you understand me, driver?" He had said it in Greek.
The man didn't respond, so Snape turned to Callie and said, still in Greek, "Tell me what you're thinking."
Her grasp of the language wasn't perfect, but she did her best. "Everything's gone to hell," she replied with a sigh. "Diagon Alley, Fortescue's, Ollivanders." She paused. "The Brockdale Bridge, Amelia Bones, Emmeline Vance." She shook her head before going on. "Who knows who else. My mum refuses to leave the country." Meeting his eye, she continued, "I'm afraid. And I'm waiting for you to tell me the whole thing is going to be contained, but you can't do that, can you?"
He held her gaze, but didn't say anything.
"How worried should I be?" she asked, still in the foreign tongue.
"Regarding yourself or your mother?" he asked.
"Regarding everyone."
Sighing, he said, "As long as she takes certain precautions, she ought to be relatively safe for the time being." He paused. "But as for yourself..." He hesitated.
"Yes?" she urged.
There was something he wanted to tell her, but couldn't. However, he said, "Stay away from Draco Malfoy. Don't go trying to get under his skin." He paused, before concluding, "The boy is... not himself as of late."
She pondered that, remembering what he had said to her the previous term - Soon enough you're going to be shut up in a common room not only with the children of Death Eaters but with actual Death Eaters. "Thanks for the heads up," she said softly.
They pulled up outside of King's Cross a short while later. Switching back to English, she asked, "Are you going to walk me in?"
"No," he replied. "I'm in no mood for that, at the moment." He nodded towards the entrance to the station, where Neville was leaning against the wall waiting for her.
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Right," and reached into her purse for the cab fare.
"I've got it," he said.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
She paused, sighing, then said, "No sense starting a quarrel before we've even gotten to-" back to Greek, she finished "-the castle." She opened the door and grabbed Bela's cage, but halted. Then - very quickly - she leaned over, took his face in her hand, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Efcharistó gia ti vólta," she said. Thanks for the ride.
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She was sharing a compartment with Neville, Hermione, Harry, Luna, and Red when a younger girl showed up holding three scrolls. "I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Calista Warbeck, and Harry P-Potter," she stuttered as her eyes fell upon the infamous boy.
The three of them each took a scroll and opened it. "What is it?" Red asked.
Harry replied, "An invitation." Callie read hers over:
Miss Warbeck,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely,
Professor H. E. F. Slughorn
"Who's Professor Slughorn?" Neville asked.
Harry explained, "New teacher." And after a pause, "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"
"But what does he want me for?" Neville asked, as the invitees stood up to make their way out.
"No idea," Harry said.
But Callie replied, "You two are war heroes, remember? What does he want me for?"
When they got to compartment C, they were met by a jovial elderly man in a velvet suit. "Harry, m'boy!" he greeted. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom and Miss Warbeck!"
"And you must be H. E. F. Slughorn," Callie replied, smiling as she held out her hand for a shake.
"Right you are, my dear," he said, and gestured for them to sit.
Callie looked around and her smile turned to a scowl as she found that one of her housemates, Blaise, had also been invited to join Slughorn in compartment C. The boy nodded curtly to her and said, "Warbeck."
"Blaise," she returned. Aside from him, there was also Ginny, and two boys Callie didn't know. Slughorn introduced everyone to each other - Cormac McLaggen and Marcus Belby were the two unknowns - and it soon became clear what everybody was doing there.
It seemed as though each of them had some sort of famous or influential relative that Slughorn took particular interest in. Belby's uncle had invented Wolfsbane Potion; McLaggen had connections to the new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour; and Blaise, apparently, had a mother who was well-know for her wealth and extraordinary beauty. Neville, of course, had his ex-auror parents, who'd been regarded as heroes in the Great War. Callie was next.
"And you, Miss Warbeck," Slughorn said, looking excited. "Any relation to the singer, Celestina?"
Callie bit the inside of her cheek, thinking, Oh, this is where I fit in. "Yes, sir," she replied.
Neville furrowed his brow and said, "Really?"
"But very distantly," she elaborated. "I've never met the woman."
Slughorn's face fell and he muttered, "Oh." Callie and Neville exchanged a glance. After a moment, the man perked up and got on with the main attraction. "And now," he said, "Harry Potter! Where to begin?"
"Guess we didn't pass the test," Callie said to Neville once they finally got the hell out of there. "Notice how he didn't invite you or me to stop by? Or Melby."
"Belby," Neville corrected.
"Eh, whatever," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "He's a commoner just like you and me."
Neville smirked, taking her hand in his as they walked down the corridor. "Seems a little-" he shrugged "-fancy for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
She turned to face him and asked, "How do you know that's what he'll be teaching?"
"What else would it be?" he replied. "We are due for a new one."
Callie smiled devilishly to herself. "Wonder how Umbridge is doing," she mused. And then she clicked her tongue in an imitation of centaur hooves, giving them both a chuckle.
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He was right, they were due for a new Defense teacher. And perhaps Slughorn was a bit too fancy. "We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year," Dumbledore announced during the welcome feast. "Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of potions master."
Callie's jaw dropped open as murmurs of confusion sounded all throughout the room. She actually looked over to Snape's spot at the head table, just to make sure he was there. "What the hell is this?" she whispered to herself.
"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Dumbledore went on, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"No," Callie breathed, staring up at her head of house as if he'd just been sentenced to death. And there was a very likely possibility that that was exactly what had just happened. Most everyone else at the Slytherin table had broken out into raucous applause, but Callie looked around at them all like they had lost their minds. "Why is everybody clapping?" she asked.
A younger boy near her said, "We like Snape. He's good to us."
"The-" Callie stammered. "The job is cursed." But her housemates either didn't hear her, didn't believe it, or didn't care. Again, she looked up at the former potions master, and he met her worried eyes with his own vacant stare. His own words to her from earlier echoed in her mind - Now, with everything that's been going on...
In any other year, he'd simply be out of the Defense teacher job by June, just like all the others. But as a double agent, playing one of the greatest dark wizards the world had ever known, when there'd already been dozens of casualties, muggle and magical?
He's going to die, Callie thought, her heart sinking.