45. Teacher and Student

"What are the bloody odds?" Neville complained the next morning as they made their way through the corridors. "I thought I would finally be rid of him, now he's the Defense teacher?"

"Don't worry, he's not going to last long," Callie said dispiritedly. He noticed that she wasn't all too happy about the idea of Snape being gone in a year, and he pulled her aside so they could speak in private.

"You don't really think he's going to die or anything, do you?" he asked. His tone wasn't concerned; rather, he was trying to be reasonable.

"Quirrell did," she reminded.

"Quirrell was-" he began, but cut himself off.

"Yes?" Callie prodded.

He hesitated, but replied, "I was going to say 'working for You Know Who.'"

Her shoulders sunk. She had told Neville all about Snape's role as a double agent - that he was also "working for" You Know Who. "So," she said after a moment, "what's your point about Quirrell?"

"Well," he shrugged, "sleep with a snake, you get bit."

She rolled her eyes. "Couldn't have picked a better expression, could you?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, grinning. "My point is that... Quirrell was a bad guy. Snape is..."

Callie couldn't help but smile. She knew the boy had nothing good to say about their new Defense teacher. "Also a bad guy?" she finished.

"Prick but not evil, right?" he reminded.

"You're actually defending him? You, of all people?"

He stared down at her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know you don't hate him the way I do," he said. "So I guess... there must be something... 'not evil' about him."

Again, she smiled. "You're willing to tolerate Snape for me?" she asked.

"Well, now that he's teaching Defense instead of just Potions," he said, "are you willing to come to my rescue if he hurls a curse at me?"

"Don't make me choose between my two boyfriends," she teased.

"Ugh!" He looked genuinely disgusted at her words.

When they arrived at the Defense classroom, Callie took in its new decor. Dark curtains shut out any sunshine that may have come in through the windows, so only dim candlelight illuminated the room. The walls were adorned with the same kind of pictures she might've seen in his Grecian Dark Arts book, horrific images of blood and pain and suffering.

"Charming, isn't it?" Callie commented. "Has a nice, homey feel." She and Neville took a couple of seats near Hermione, Harry, and Red.

Hermione pulled out her copy of Confronting the Faceless, and Callie was about to do the same when Snape stood behind his desk and said, "I have not asked you to take out your books." He waited for Hermione to stuff the copy back in her bag before he went on.

"I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention," he began in his low but commanding voice. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Callie kept her eyes directly on him as he sauntered around the room, hanging on his every word.

"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.

"These pictures give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse..." his gaze settled on Callie just for a second, at the same time she saw Neville wince out of the corner of her eye "...feel the Dementor's kiss... or provoke the aggression of the Inferius."

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati piped up. "Is it definite? Is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," he replied. "Which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again."

Bloody hell, Callie thought. He would know all about the Dark Lord's methods. What kind of things had he seen? This is why I wanted him to teach me. He knows.

"Now," he went on, "you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells." Again, his eyes settled, very briefly, on Callie. "What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" he asked.

Of course, Hermione's hand shot up. Insufferable know-it-all, he'd once called her. Callie looked from the girl to Snape, keeping her mouth shut and her hand down. He met her eye, and she just knew he was thinking, Raise your God damn hand. But she sat there stubbornly, trying and failing to bite back a smirk.

"Very well," he said after a moment, irritation coloring his voice. "Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she explained, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," Snape replied. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course. It is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack." He shot Harry a contemptuous look.

"You will now divide into pairs," he continued. "One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

They broke up into teams of two. Of course, Callie and Neville partnered up. "Clever, Longbottom," Snape said, catching the two of them by surprise. But he went on, "Pairing with your woman, knowing she'll go easy on you."

"I'm not going to go easy on him," Callie said. "I don't have to. After all, he's the one that fought in the battle at the Ministry."

"Still bitter about that, are you?" Snape asked.

"Always."

"Split up, the two of you," he ordered.

"Don't you want to see me jinx him, sir?" Callie asked. "Slytherin versus Gryffindor, it may be the only time our house gets a victory over his, considering our Quidditch team."

Scowling at her, he said, "Have it your way, then."

She turned back to Neville, and they both held their wands at the ready. "You jinx, I'll shield," he said.

"Of course," she replied with a smile. He still couldn't bring himself to hurt her. "No incanting," she reminded.

She knew how to cast a nonverbal spell already. Maybe she was the only one in the room who could. Raising her wand, she concentrated, picturing what she wanted to happen. And then, incanting the spell in her head, she disarmed him. His wand flew off to the side.

"The Disarming Charm?" Snape remarked, cocking a brow. "That's not a jinx, Warbeck."

"I know, sir," Callie said as Neville retrieved his wand. "Just easing into it."

"I thought you weren't going to go easy on him."

"I'm gauging his mindset."

"What mind?"

Turning her wand on the man, she warned, "Play nice." She and Neville tried again. And again. He just couldn't block her without speaking.

"Christ, lass," he said, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. "You wanna switch?"

"If you can't deflect a spell in silence," Snape piped up, "how do you expect to perform one the same way?"

The boy's shoulders sunk, his face reddening.

"We're not switching," Callie said. "You can deflect a spell in silence."

"Obviously not," he sighed.

"Don't try and argue with me," she warned. Then, taking a step towards him, she explained, "Words are like wands. They act as a conduit for magic, but they don't produce it. We do. Speaking only reinforces what we're trying to accomplish. It's more a matter of willpower and focus than anything else."

He took that in and said, "So... how do I focus?"

She gave it a second of thought. "You have to visualize it," she replied. "Picture it like it's a tangible thing. The Shield Charm, for example, I think of it as... a bubble."

"A bubble?" he repeated, raising a brow.

"A bubble," she confirmed. "For me it's... blue. But transparent." She spread her arms in a big circle, starting from above her head, then outwards, and down. "It surrounds you. Like a bubble. Not so delicate, though. Nothing can get through it."

He considered the idea. "Blue, you said?"

"But transparent." After a pause, "Visualize it. Picture it in your mind." She could tell he was trying to do so. "Don't get distracted by everything around you. Close your eyes."

He did as she said. Stepping back from him, she urged, "Picture it starting inside of you, right in your core. It's expanding through your whole body, then outwards, past your skin."

She could feel Snape's eyes on her, and she glanced at him. It suddenly occurred to her what she was trying to do - project. Put her thoughts in Neville's head. Looking back to the boy, she asked, "Can you see it?"

"Yes," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Callie slowly raised her wand, eyeing Snape once more. I'm not going to go easy on him, she thought, showing him exactly what she was planning to do.

It was a rather big risk; if Neville failed to maintain the Shield Charm, he was going to be in for some actual physical pain. However, if they both succeeded, Snape would see just how powerful the two of them could be, Neville and herself.

God, help me, she thought, taking a breath. One, two, three - Incendio.

A thin jet of flames stretched from her wand to the invisible bubble that surrounded him. It then grew and spread over the shield in a layer that completely encased him. He was doing it; he was deflecting the fire spell - silently and probably without even realizing it. She held her hand steady as a rock, her eyes dead set on the spot where his Shield Charm had to be.

Still with his eyes closed, he asked, "Are you going to do something?" And before he could lose his focus and destroy the Shield, she snatched her wand upwards, extinguishing the fire in a fraction of a second.

"I just did," she said, and he opened his eyes in shock.

"You did?" he asked, and she nodded. "What did you do?"

"Fire-Making Spell," she said, smiling proudly at him. "It was all around you."

"It was?" he asked. "For real? I didn't even feel it."

"Didn't I say that you could shield in silence?"

"I actually did it?" he asked again, unable or unwilling to believe her. "You're not just playing with me?"

"Now is not the time for games, Comrade," she teased.

He was too excited to care that Snape was right there watching them. He ran over and picked her up, spinning her around a couple of times before setting her back down on her feet. "I've never done a nonverbal spell, ever," he said. Then, whispering in her ear, "You teach so much better than he does."

Callie shot a glance over at Snape, who was staring back at her, looking surprised and... impressed? However, he said coldly, "What a shame. I was rather looking forward to watching you set him on fire."

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The following week, Callie received another invitation from Horace Slughorn, this time in person. He'd asked if she would like to join him in his private quarters for dinner. A few other "rising stars" would be there as well. "I was rather surprised you invited me, sir," Callie said as she looked around at his many pictures and possessions from all over the world. "I'd hardly call myself a 'rising star.'" Certainly not on the level of my fifth cousin, four times removed, she thought.

"Nonsense, dear," he replied, pouring himself a brandy. "From what I've been told, you've got quite the knack for my subject. Professor Snape has said that you're one of the most promising potion-makers he's taught in years."

Callie cocked a brow. "Professor Snape said that?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, dear," Slughorn confirmed. "Said you've got a sort of-" he paused, looking for the right words "-innate understanding of the brewing process that most students lack."

She smiled to herself. The son of a bitch had spoken of her with praise?

As Slughorn came over to her, she said, "Still didn't win that Liquid Luck, though, did I?"

"Well, I suppose everyone's due a loss at some point," he replied. "You did come very close."

"Did I, sir?" He nodded, and she went on, "Well, I do intend on getting my hands on that potion, one way or another."

Furrowing his brow, he said, "Not planning on nicking it from Mr. Potter, I hope."

Grinning, she said, "No, that won't be necessary. I'll need to acquire a few special ingredients, but I was looking to brew up a batch myself."

"Oho!" Slughorn laughed. "I'm afraid Felix Felicis is not quite as simple as the Draught of Living Death, my dear."

"No, of course not. But nothing worth having comes easy, does it?"

Cocking a brow, he said, "Merlin's beard, you're really going to attempt it?"

"I don't plan on merely attempting it, sir. In six months time, I'll be presenting you with a bottle of that potion."

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed cheerily. "You're quite the ambitious little lass, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," she agreed with a nod. "Of course, I always have been partial to your subject. It's one of my favorites. In fact, I've got quite a collection going - my own hand-made samples of every potion we've studied since first year. Would you like to see it sometime?"

Slughorn got an impressed look on his face and replied, "Yes, very much so." He paused, shooting her a smile. "What a delight to have such a talent within my own ranks."

Callie raised a brow. "Your ranks, sir?"

"Slytherin house," he explained. Then, nodding in the direction where Blaise stood across the room, he whispered, "Mr. Zabini isn't quite as... impressive as I'd been expecting."

Certainly not, Callie thought. But instead of expressing her agreement, she said, "You're a Slytherin?"

"Oh, yes. I fact, I was the head of house before I retired in '81. That was when Professor Snape took over."

Considering that, Callie asked, "You taught Professor Snape, then?" Of course he had. Most of the older teachers would've had too, but she'd never really given the idea much thought.

Nodding, Slughorn said, "I did, dear. Brilliant student he was."

"Yes, I imagine so," Callie agreed.

He studied her a moment, then said, "You remind me of him a bit."

Christ, really? "Do I, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Same instincts for potion-making," he replied. "Same ferocity with which you approach a challenge. Determined, you are, I can see it in your eyes." He paused. "So fascinating it is, coming back after fifteen years to see my former student in my place, bringing up the next generation of potioneers."

"I'm not going to be a potioneer, actually. I was planning on entering the healer program after Hogwarts."

"Really?" Slughorn said, considering it. "In that case, perhaps I could arrange a get together between ourselves and Healer Winslow. He runs the program at St. Mungo's."

Callie shot him a smile. He came to me for connections, but I got one from him. "Thank you, sir," she said. "That would be lovely."