29. An Unexpected Visitor
"You must promise me that you'll survive... That you won't give up... No matter what happens... No matter how hopeless... Promise me now, Rose... and never let go of that promise."
As Kate Winslet croaked out, "I promise," Callie complained, "They both could've fit on that God damn door. You're full of shit, James Cameron!" She was spending the summer holiday at her mother's, and taking advantage of the electricity and television set.
Soon enough, Jack and Rose were reuniting in ghost ship Heaven, and the potions mistress practically shouted, "Woman, you only knew him two days! What about that poor sod you married?"
The credits started to roll, and Callie picked up two other tapes, considering what to watch next. Her options were The Exorcist and The Omen. "What do you think?" she asked Medusa, who was slithering along the coffee table. "The Exorcist is the better film." A pause. "But Gregory Peck is dashing." That settled it for her, and she stood up to put the tape in the player.
Before she could return to the sofa, the doorbell rang. With a groan, Callie muttered, "Oh, who the hell is that?" thinking whoever it was had to be for Susanna, as the younger woman had virtually no acquaintances in her non-magical hometown.
"Jehovah's Witnesses," she joked to the snake. "Perhaps they'd like to stay and watch with us." But upon opening the door, she did a double take. Standing before her was none other than Severus Snape.
She hadn't seen him since the end of term, though the two had exchanged a couple of letters. Looking up at him with wide eyes, she exclaimed, "You're at my house! In Muggleville."
He looked just a little bit tense, and she chalked that up to the setting. "Forgive me for showing up unannounced," he said, "but I wasn't sure I was going to come. Something of a spur of the moment decision."
Giving him a quizzical look, she remarked, "You don't do anything 'spur of the moment.'" Then it occurred to her that the only reason he might come to visit her in person was to bring her bad news. "You're not here to tell me someone's died or anything, are you?"
He furrowed his brow at her query and replied, "No." Then, to himself, "Merlin's beard, I attempt to be sociable and she greets me as a messenger of doom."
"You, sociable? Well don't let me spoil this momentous occasion for you," she sassed. "Come on in."
She stood back to let him enter, and as he looked around the sitting room, he asked, "Is your mother home?"
"No, she's in Rio with Pastor Simon. What a shame, you could've met her." Callie returned to the sofa and gestured for Snape to join her. As he did so, a wide smile spread across her face. "Bloody hell, this is unreal! You're actually here!"
"Well," he said, reaching into his coat, "I figured the occasion called for it." Holding out a box wrapped in lilac-colored paper, he said, "Happy birthday."
Callie looked from the box to him, holding his gaze for a brief moment. So this is what he came for, she thought with an amused grin. Taking the gift, she remarked, "You're a day late."
"I know. Thought about coming yesterday, but I assumed you'd be out."
"Well, you missed a hell of a party," she said as she undid the wrapping. "My girls and I portkeyed to Copenhagen to see the band Happily at Rest. The lead singer pulled me up on stage and serenaded me. Then he brought us backstage after the show and we all got our chests signed."
"Lovely," he replied with sarcasm.
She unwrapped a sleek mahogany box that would've been a nice enough gift on its own, but inside was a ten-inch dagger wrapped in a leather sheath. "For your collection," Snape said. "Happened upon it in an antiques shop. Thought it was befitting to you."
It certainly was; the ebony wood handle was ornamented with a silver fox. Callie held it up, gazing upon it as though it were a priceless work of art, and murmured, "Wicked."
"Do you approve?"
"Are you kidding? This is a thing of beauty!" However, her face fell as she looked over at him. "Although..."
With an irritated look, he said, "Yes, I know, I'm not to be trusted with knives." Callie rolled her eyes at that, as Snape leaned forward to inspect an old dollhouse that was set up on the table. Cocking a brow, he asked, "Childhood relic?"
"Aye. Teddy was here the other day," she explained. "I brought it out for him to play with. Ever heard of a film called Psycho?"
He gave it a moment of thought and replied, "Hitchcock, yes? I think I saw it once, years ago."
"Well, this is a replica of the Bates house. Made it when I was thirteen."
"You made this?" he asked, looking rather impressed.
"Summer project after second year." Indicating the dolls inside, "That's Norman, and that's Mother, and those are victims."
He held up one of the blood-covered figures to examine, then eyed her as though she were a tad loony. Raising a brow, he said, "You gave this to a two-year-old child to play with? The boy is going to grow up to be psychologically disturbed."
Callie waved her hand dismissively and said, "Oh, he'll be all right. And if not, there's always forgetfulness charms."
"Ah, yes - your specialty." He replaced the doll and got quiet a moment, before a curious look came upon his face and he sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"
Bashfully, Callie explained, "I tried to make a chicken for dinner. I don't know what happened. It was charred on the outside and raw on the inside."
He was clearly amused by her culinary shortcomings. With a smirk, he said, "You don't know how to cook."
"How would I know how to cook? All my meals since I was eleven have simply appeared before my eyes."
He couldn't argue that, and after pondering her helplessness regarding domestic matters, he suggested, "You need to marry a man who is willing to be a househusband. Someone who will keep you fed and see to it your children don't turn out to be serial killers."
"Eh! I am an independent woman, I do not need any man." She paused, her expression turning thoughtful. "Although I'm starting to consider a house-elf."
"In the meantime..." Snape said, a bit hesitantly "...do you have any plans for tonight?"
Her heart leapt at the idea that he might stay a while. Five weeks had been more than enough time for her to really start missing him. "Well..." she said, "I had a date with Gregory Peck, but I guess I could postpone it."
He furrowed his brow and asked, "Who's Gregory Peck?"
Holding up the cover of The Omen, "American muggle actor. He's dashing."
Snape took a look at the image of the man and said, "If you insist." Rising up off the sofa, he ordered, "Go put on something presentable. I'm taking you to dinner."
The potions mistress was quite surprised by the offer. "You mean you're actually willing to venture out in public?" she asked. "You hate the public."
"Right. But you're liable to starve if I leave you to your own devices. Or else burn down your mother's house."
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She hadn't been sure what to expect from the man, but apparently he had good taste, bringing her to a posh, wizards-only spot in London. Of course, he requested one of the more secluded tables near the back of the dining room, and they shared a bottle of red currant wine as they ate and discussed the latest news regarding her Cruciatus counter-spell.
Over the last several weeks, she'd received much acclaim in the press, and had an article published in the Journal of Defensive Magic. She'd also been invited to speak about her creation at an upcoming conference in August. Meanwhile, Kingsley had tasked her with training the auror force on how to work the spell. A dozen had signed up for weekly practice sessions; however, seven had already tapped out. Dispiritedly, she informed Snape, "Nobody's managed it yet. We started with theory, the visualization and all that. They attempt to produce the shield before the curse is performed, but they can't hold it in place once the pain hits. And the problem is that in a real-life scenario, you won't even have time to prepare. You have to be able to react almost instinctively."
"Can you do that?" Snape asked.
"Fortunately, the Cruciatus is almost impossible to perform without a verbal incantation, so at least you have a second of warning. And I have quick reflexes. Yes, a couple of times I've been able to block the curse before it lands."
"Impressive," he remarked.
"But even so, I can tolerate the pain enough to counter it. The aurors can't." Pensively, she remarked, "Maybe I've become desensitized to it." She wore a look of frustration as she went on, "In any event, this spell is too difficult even for a fully-trained auror. How is the general public supposed to master it? They would have to subject themselves to torture in order to even attempt it. I've created a 'groundbreaking' spell that's effectively useless."
Snape was quiet as she pondered the complications regarding her counter-curse. But after a while he spoke up. "It's only been a few weeks. The aurors will get there eventually. And spell development doesn't happen overnight. In time you'll refine it, improve upon the method. Don't treat it as though it's a lost cause."
She was surprised to hear him speak so optimistically. With the slightest of grins curling her lip, she replied, "This half-full version of you in unnerving."
To that, he repeated what she'd said at the end of term - "Nothing's impossible."
Her smile widened. "Yes," she agreed. "Wiser words were never spoken. But meanwhile, I've been thinking that there might be other ways to protect against the curse."
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
With a shrug, she replied, "Thought perhaps I'd return to what I know best - potions."
He inclined his head in curiosity. "How would a potion protect against the Cruciatus?"
She hesitated, wondering if he'd revert back to his "can't do" attitude upon hearing her latest fantastical idea. Apprehensively, she asked, "Do you know what a vaccine is?"
"A vaccine?" he echoed, furrowing his brow. "My mother was a muggle nurse. Of course I know what a vaccine is."
"Well," she went on, "if such a thing can prevent muggle diseases, then why can't we apply the same concept in the magical world?"
He didn't seem to follow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean a potion that could block the effects of the Cruciatus. Everlasting elixirs gave me the idea." Everlasting elixirs were exactly what they sounded like. Their discovery had been completely by accident, and had resulted in many unfortunate - and sometimes fatal - outcomes over the centuries. But many useful concoctions had been produced in which only one or two doses could have permanent or semi-permanent effects.
"You want to... immunize people against the Cruciatus Curse?" Snape replied skeptically.
Callie reminded him, "Nothing's impossible. Imagine if there were a potion that could interfere with the curse. You wouldn't even have to rely on counter-spells, you'd be innately protected against it. Essentially, we'd never have to worry about the Cruciatus again."
He fell silent, considering the idea. She found it encouraging that he didn't immediately scoff and tell her to get her head out of the clouds, but after a moment he said, "The development of potions is a lot more complex than that of spells. The latter requires only one's intention and state of mind. Creating a functional elixir is a series of trial and error. The ingredients have to come together just so, and there are innumerable possibilities. Not one of the substances you begin with may end up in the final recipe. You could spend a lifetime playing around with it, adding and subtracting one ingredient at a time without ever knowing if you're close to the desired result. To say nothing of the techniques employed. For example, a temperature difference of one degree could be enough to determine success or failure."
When he appeared to be finished, Callie sat back with her arms folded across her chest. "So this is your long-winded way of telling me not to bother?" she guessed.
"When somebody tells you not to do something, you make it a point to defy them. I'm only giving you a fair warning. Potioneers have been driven to madness attempting to produce novels brews."
"Yes, but haven't we established that I'm already mad? As all the great geniuses usually are."
"'Great genius,'" he muttered, sipping his wine. "I can see all that praise for the counter-curse hasn't gone to your head."
Rather smugly, she replied, "I'm a rock star in the world of spell development. My name is going to be in history books. 'First witch to ever counter the Torture Curse.'" A pause. "Go on and say it - you're proud to have been my head of house."
"Pride is a deadly sin," he replied flatly.
"Well, luckily you're irreligious." She paused before continuing, "Anyway... are you of the opinion that two heads are better than one?"
"In what regard?" he asked.
"The scientific method. You're right, potion development is a massive undertaking. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to go it alone. You've got the experience and expertise. And a knack for innovation." She was referring to the hexes and jinxes he's created as a student. "Would you be willing to lend me a bit of that brilliance?"
He studied her a long moment, appearing disinterested. "You're looking to drag me into this little scheme of yours?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Think about it. You and I together, pioneers in potion-making. 'Calista Warbeck and Severus Snape, whose discovery has effectively resulted in the eradication of the Torture Curse.'"
He pondered the thought, and remarked, "You really are a dreamer."
"The only difference between dreams and reality is action. Come on, now, at least humor me a bit. If we haven't made any progress by the end of the term, you can bow out."
"And you expect me to dedicate a year of my life to a pipe dream?"
"Why not? What else have you got to do?"
Suddenly a voice sounded from off to the side. "Calista Warbeck," it said. She and Snape looked over to find a familiar face - Theodore Nott. Glancing from one to the other of them, he added, "And Severus Snape."
A delighted smile came upon Callie's face. She hadn't seen the boy since the Battle of Hogwarts, but he was one of her only former housemates who she had relatively positive memories of, as he'd belonged to the handful who'd joined her in the fight. "Theo!" she exclaimed. "Hi!"
The two of them exchanged a handshake, and he remarked, "Funny meeting you here." Turning to Snape, "Both of you."
The older man seemed to be deliberately avoiding the other's eye, almost in a dismissive manner. "Mr. Nott," he greeted rather coldly.
There was a strange, sort of suspicious look in Nott's eye as he surveyed the two. Callie glanced from him to Snape, and realized how this must look to the former - his old schoolmate and professor sharing dinner in a fancy restaurant. Gesturing to Snape, she explained, a bit awkwardly, "We work together now. I'm the potions mistress at Hogwarts."
"Really?" he said, cocking a brow. Then, with a nod, "Congratulations on the appointment."
"Thanks," she replied, struck by the similarity of his voice to Snape's. They both spoke in a slow, quiet way that suggested every word was calculated. "Haven't seen you in a while," she went on. "How have you been?"
"I've been well," he replied. "Recently settled a legal battle with my extended family regarding my father's estate. They believed it unjust that his killer ought to be awarded the bulk of his assets. But at the end of the day, I am his next of kin. And I think he'd be happy to know that a percentage of his wealth has been put to good use - to the benefit of several muggle charities."
Callie's lip turned up in an amused grin. Knowing of the senior Nott's anti-muggle values, she was certain that his son's financial contributions had come, not from a place of generosity, but of pure spite. "Brilliant," she remarked.
"On the subject of brilliance," he said, "I heard about that Cruciatus shield of yours. Extraordinary. I always knew Callie Warbeck would grow up to achieve greatness."
She didn't know he'd ever given any thought to the matter. "Did you, now?" she asked.
"Hmm. Two years later, you continue to amaze me."
She was taken aback by such praise. In seven years, he'd paid her almost no attention, but apparently he'd held a much higher opinion of her than she would've imagined.
Shooting her a small smile, he said, "I ought to get back to my group. Have a lovely evening."
"You, too," she replied.
As he turned to leave, he set his eyes on his former teacher. "Professor Snape," he said with a nod of farewell.
Not looking up at the younger man, Snape replied, "Theodore." Once Nott was gone, the Defense teacher smirked to himself and muttered, "Nothing's changed, I see."
Callie furrowed her brow and asked, "What do you mean?"
He took a sip of wine and remarked, "Two years later and he's still taken with you."
There was a beat of silence. The potions mistress inclined her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "What are you talking about? He was never... 'taken with me.'"
"You never noticed." A pause. "Understandably. His type isn't particularly noticeable."
"He hardly ever spoke to me," Callie said. "I think we must've had..." she shrugged "...maybe two conversations in all the time we knew each other."
"What difference does that make?" Snape asked. Then, in a mocking tone, "You amazed him. He wasn't going to make his feelings known. The Callie Warbecks of the world don't tend to respond well to the Theodore Notts."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"He found you unattainable. Based on physical appearance, at least."
Callie pondered that. Theo had never been the best-looking bloke, although he wasn't so bad anymore. His skin had cleared up and he appeared to have had his teeth fixed. "Bloody hell," she said, "I'm not that shallow. Perhaps if he'd made it a point to say 'hello' every once in a while-"
"You wouldn't have gone out with him," Snape cut in, giving her a look that suggested she was full of it. "Don't pretend the boy would've had any appeal to you."
"You know I never go for the male model type," she argued. "Neville wasn't always the Greek god he is now. And Lupin always sort of looked like he was dying. Apparently I lean towards the unconventionally appealing." As she sipped her wine, a realization occurred to her. "Oh, my God! Is that why you made me go to the Yule Ball with him?"
"No," he replied. "I wasn't attempting to play matchmaker. I only wanted to spoil the occasion for you. And I figured he would be the only one of your housemates willing to escort you."
She thought back on that night, and recalled the boy telling her she looked "stunning." But that was pretty much all he'd said for the rest of the evening. "Well... that would've been the opportunity for him to take his shot. But he acted just about as disinterested as I was."
She and Snape went on with their meal, and after a while, a server-elf approached their table and set a cocktail in front of Callie. "For you, ma'am," he said. "Courtesy of Mr. Theodore Nott."
She craned her neck to try and spot him. He was seated across the room with four or five others, and when he met her eye, she raised her glass and shot him a wink. To Snape, she remarked, "I suppose that explains why he wasn't very friendly towards you. He assumed that you and I were on a date."
Nonchalantly, he replied, "Yes, he did. But of course he's unaware of your involvement with Gregory Peck."
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After dinner, they apparated back to her mother's house. "I'm impressed with myself," Callie said. "I managed to go the entire night without rolling my ankle." Her birthday present from Astoria had been a pair of four-inch designer heels. Something of a gag gift, as the potions mistress couldn't go very far with that kind of height. "Tell me the truth, though - was I walking a bit like a drunkard?"
"More so a little girl playing around in Mummy's special occasion pumps," he replied. "Wildly ungainly."
"Yes," she agreed, stretching out her leg to examine the leopard print design. "Such a shame. I actually sort of like them. Unfortunately, I haven't the grace required to play runway model." Snape studied her as she took a seat, then came forward and knelt down in front of her, drawing his wand. "What are you doing?" she asked as he took her foot in his hand.
Rather than explaining, he held his wand over the heel and shortened it from four inches to two. Glancing up at her, he remarked, "Not quite so extreme. Do you mind?"
She smiled happily and exclaimed, "Merlin's beard, I would never have thought of that! Thank you, it would've been a real pity to let three-hundred-galleon shoes go to waste."
He repeated the spell on the other heel, and Callie found herself enjoying the touch of his hand against her ankle a little too much. The fact that he was in her house, and they were alone, was putting certain ideas in her head, and she had to remind herself not to let him look her in the eye. When he was done, his gaze lingered on the top of her right foot, where she'd gotten a tattoo of a rose a few weeks prior. "Real or temporary?" he asked.
"Real." With a shrug, she explained, "There's no meaning behind it, I just thought it was pretty." The way in which he brushed him thumb over the design did nothing to quiet the sultry thoughts running through her mind. For God's sake, it's only a foot, she told herself. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Rising up, Snape announced, "I should go. I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome." He was already turning towards the door.
No, don't let him get away! "Well... actually it's sort of lonely here since Mum's been on holiday. I don't suppose you'd care to watch The Omen with me?"
He hesitated a moment, then said, "And come between you and Mr. Peck?"
With a wave of her hand, she replied, "Ah, he's married anyway. It's never gonna happen for us." She grabbed the remote and patted the seat beside her, grinning ear to ear as he reluctantly came over to join her.
Neither of them spoke much as they watched, but his mere presence was just about the best birthday present she'd received. Of course, her mind was only half set on the film, and she scolded herself for the shameless way in which she'd pretend to be startled and grab his arm or his hand during the more "frightening" scenes. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind; in fact, he appeared to be a bit amused by her apparent fear.
When it was over, she asked, "So what did you think?"
"Not entirely sure what was supposed to be so terrifying about it," he said. "I've known a hundred children less well-behaved than that boy."
With a roll of her eyes, she replied, "Well, come back in a couple of days and I'll show you The Exorcist. Little girl is possessed by a demon. She does something horrific with a crucifix."
"'Little girl possessed by a demon,'" he echoed. "Yes, I can see why you would appreciate such a story."
"Ha ha," she said sarcastically.
He was quiet for a moment as he sat petting Medusa. Then he asked, not meeting Callie's eye, "Are you going to be all right here by yourself?"
She bit back a grin, thinking his concern for her well-being was rather cute. No, she wanted to say, stay here and protect me. But instead she replied, "I'm sure I can manage. If I get hungry, there's always cereal and takeaway."
"Right," he said, removing the snake from his lap and rising to his feet. "Is your fireplace secured?"
"Yes, and the doors are locked and I was just about to go put bars on the windows," she joked. "This is Muggle Town, remember? The most dangerous person around these parts is me." Cocking a brow, she asked, "Or do you think me especially vulnerable because I'm a lass?"
"No, of course not. You're an independent woman, you do not need any man."
Again, she rolled her eyes at his snark.
"When does your mother return?" he asked.
"Saturday."
Considering that, he said, "Perhaps I'll check in sometime midweek. Make sure that you haven't withered away."
"If you insist." She held up The Exorcist tape and said, "Bring popcorn. We're going to be viewing what they call the scariest film of all time. And afterwards I'll show you how I can do the backwards spider walk." He gave her a curious look, having no idea what that was, and she added, "You'll see."
With a nod, he said, "Good night, Warbeck," and turned to leave. But when he pulled open the door, he paused, reaching into his jacket. "Oh, by the way..." He tossed her a shiny gold object that she recognized as his cigarette case. She looked up at him with a questioning expression, and he explained, "I've no use for it anymore."
Her jaw dropped open in surprise and delight. "You quit?" she asked.
"For the time being. Not as enjoyable as it used to be."
Smiling widely, she remarked, "I'm impressed."
With one last look, he said, "Happy birthday," and left her to herself.
When he was gone, she sat gazing at the gold case, and after a while she opened it up to find that a piece of parchment had been left inside. You've sold me on it, it read. Pioneers in potion-making.
Smirking to herself, she muttered, "You and I together."