The Two Potions Masters

by FlameSky25340

The Second Wizarding War is over - so what happens now? As her comrades packed up and moved on with their lives, Callie Warbeck stayed behind. And her former head of house, with whom she shares a complicated past, is forced to coexist with the girl he'd wanted nothing more to do with. Sequel to my first story, The Only Slytherin.

31. Family Matters

31. Family Matters

Callie had written to her Aunt Diana, informing her that she was one of Harper's teachers and inquiring as to why the family hadn't told her about Circe. Rather than explaining via correspondence, the woman had suggested they meet in person at her home in Yorkshire. Two weeks into the term, the potions mistress had a free weekend and was planning to see her that Saturday.

As she stood dangling a rat into Medusa's tank the night before, Snape, from behind her, remarked, "I thought you weren't going to meet with her until tomorrow?""

"That's right," Callie confirmed.

"Are you leaving for Yorkshire tonight?"

"No. Why?"

Medusa sprang forward, attacking her meal, while Snape said, "You've got a bag packed."

Shit, Callie thought, suddenly feeling as though she had a spotlight on her. He didn't know what her plans were for the evening, and she didn't really want him to. Thinking up a believable excuse, she replied, "I was going to spend the night at my mum's." After throwing a sheet over the tank, she turned back to Snape and saw that he hadn't been convinced of her lie. As he looked up at her with a hint of suspicion in his eye, she asked in a defensive tone, "What?"

"You never bring an overnight bag to your mother's. You already have clothes there."

Christ, nothing gets past you, she thought. After an awkward silence, she sighed to herself and said, "Okay. I feel like a sixteen-year-old sneaking out the bedroom window." Folding her arms and avoiding his eye, "Theo and I have a date, and I'll probably end up sleeping at his house."

There was a brief pause, but he seemed unaffected by that information. "What did you think you had to lie about that?" he asked.

What was she supposed to have told him? I'm going off to shag my boyfriend - see you Sunday! "I didn't want to put the idea of us fooling around in your head. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he said sarcastically. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I've never assumed you to be the 'waiting for marriage' type."

He wasn't wrong, but she was taken aback by such a statement. And exactly how big of a trollop did he think she was? Up until Theo, she'd only had one lover. "I am not wanton!" she practically shouted.

"I didn't say you were."

"It was implied."

"That wasn't my intention," he said, shutting the book he'd been perusing and returning it to her shelf. "I was only letting you know that you don't have to pretend to be so innocent. There's no need for 'sneaking out the window.' If you happen to have an overnight engagement, then feel free to say that." He paused, before adding, "And trust me, I would acquire a pistol and blow my brains out before I'd entertain the thought of you and Nott... fooling around."

Well, all right, then, she thought. At least she could be open about it. Still, she didn't want him thinking she was merely running off for a cheap shag, so she explained, "He's taking me to see The Phantom of the Opera. It's a muggle musical. Based on a muggle book."

"I know of it. A pure-blood supremacist is willing to set foot in a muggle theatre?"

"He's not a supremacist," Callie said. "He fought for the Light Side, remember?" In fact, he hated his late father to such an extent that he deliberately involved himself in muggle culture as a sort of "fuck you" to the man.

But Snape reminded her, "His father was quite high up in Voldemort's ranks."

"And Theo killed his father," she countered. "The apple fell very far from the tree in this instance."

Snape considered that, and replied, "If you insist."

"You oughta be happy, ya know. Not only is he human, but he's my age. And a Slytherin. And he's not a complete dunderhead. That about checks off all your requirements." He didn't say anything, but remained at her bookcase, picking out volumes and flipping through them.

After a moment, Callie remarked, "You have not liked any of the people that I've dated." Counting them off on her fingers, "Neville, Ewan, Cross, Theo." There was a definite pattern here, but she couldn't decide if it was due to his general misanthropy, or if there was a chance he was a little bit... jealous. "What's it going to take for you to give your blessing?"

With his eyes set on his latest selection, he asked, "Why do you need my approval?"

"I don't. Just curious is all."

Snapping the book shut and putting it back, he said, "Longbottom was mousy. The vampire was dangerous. Cross is vapid. Begin with those qualities and uncheck them one by one. Come back to me when all the boxes are cleared and then maybe I'll be a bit more accepting."

"Theo isn't any of those things," she argued. "What's wrong with him?"

He pondered the question, and replied, "I'm still trying to figure it out. But there is something, I'm sure of it."

As he turned his back to her and continued on with the books, Callie smiled to herself. The way he'd shot down anyone who'd ever shown any interest implied that none of them were good enough for her, in his opinion. She found that rather sweet.

"Ya know," she said, "your standards for my men reflect the value that you place on me. And apparently you're of the belief that I deserve only the best." Again, he didn't respond. She went up to him and set a hand on his shoulder, then teased, "You love me. I'm tops in your eyes."

There was a moment of silence, and then he slowly turned to face her. "I loathe you," he declared. "And you are an enormous pain in my arse."

Unoffended, she smirked at his insult, then leaned in to give him a brief kiss on the cheek. Patting his back, she said, "Sure thing, Professor," and shot him a wink as she sauntered away.

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Later that night, she and Theo were seated at a bar within the theatre, having just gotten through with the show. "I was watching you during Music of the Night," he remarked. "You barely blinked."

"I was transfixed," Callie replied. "Just like Christine." It was one of her favorite songs, not only from the show, but in general.

Theo studied her as she sipped a martini, and after a moment he said, "I have ideas about you."

"Ooh," she said in a teasing tone. "Do tell."

With a chuckle, he explained, "No, not like that. I mean you're..." he inclined his head in consideration "...you're a bit dark."

Cocking a brow, she asked, "Just a bit?"

"You're the type who would go for the Phantom over Raoul, is that right?"

"Well, he's certainly a lot more interesting. Mysterious, passionate... and a little bit dangerous."

"The bad boy," Theo concluded.

"I grew up in a literal dungeon," Callie reminded him. "Maybe I'm conditioned to appreciate the darker shades in life." Like the Phantom over Raoul. Or Ewan Lindley, a man who had feasted on the blood of hundreds, over boy-next-door Freddie Cross.

Theo took her left wrist in his hand, then brushed his fingers along her inner forearm. "You really would've made an excellent Death Eater," he commented. Callie gave him a pointed look, while the memory of Snape making the same claim ran through her mind. With a devilish grin, he added, "But then, of course, I would've had to kill you."

Callie smirked as he released her arm, and she muttered, "A little bit dangerous." If anyone could speak of darkness, it was him, and she knew it was that quality that drew her in. But it wasn't just the lure of the mysterious, brooding type; there was something more specific that attracted her to him. A certain familiarity. He was a Slytherin; he'd had a troubled childhood; he hated his father and was haunted by the death of his mum. He was quiet, solitary, he'd turned against the Dark Side, and he'd killed before.

The appeal wasn't difficult to figure out. He reminded her of Snape.

"Do you really have to go to Yorkshire tomorrow?" he asked. "First weekend off and you're going to waste it on somebody you haven't spoken to in years? I've missed you, ya now."

She did know. The two of them had been almost inseparable throughout August, and when she'd had to go back to Hogwarts, he hadn't been looking forward to going two weeks without seeing her. That first letter with the rose hadn't been the last. She'd received one every other morning, and he'd informed her he was counting down the days until he could be with her again. She knew that if it were up to him, she'd be spending the entire weekend at his house.

"Well..." she said "...we still have tonight." Wearing a seductive smirk, she kicked off one of her heels and slipped her foot up under his pant leg.

After a moment, he glanced to the side and said, "People are looking at us."

Unbothered, she replied, "Then let's give them something worth watching," and leaned forward to kiss his neck.

Two years it had been since she'd had somebody to be intimate with. She was a physical person and she liked sex, so it had been an unfulfilling time. Fortunately, she and Theo were quite compatible in this aspect of their relationship.

She began to pull back from him, but he held her close and whispered in her ear, "Lascia che ti porti a letto." She recognized it as Italian, but had no idea what it meant.

"In English?" she asked.

Again he whispered, "Let me take you to bed."

She smiled to herself, and replied, "Sono tuo." I'm yours.

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The following day, Callie stood outside Diana's home in northern England. Like everyone in the Warbeck family, the woman and her husband were well off, but their home was much more grand than Callie's parents'. It stood in a secluded area with lots of acreage, and around the side, Callie could see the unicorn stables that Harper had mentioned. Moving up the long stone walkway, the potions mistress took a breath, then rapped on the door with a gold knocker in the shape of a peacock. She was greeted by a house-elf who was dressed in a white toga-like sheet.

"Good day, sir," she nodded. "My name is Callie Warbeck. Mrs. Levingston is expecting me."

Perhaps due to her use of the word "sir" to address him, he gave her a curious look, but stood back to let her enter. He then led her into the sitting room, and went off to fetch his mistress. Callie looked around at the familiar space; nothing had changed much since the last time she'd visited. The walls were a royal blue color, the furniture white. The tables, curio cabinets, and a piano were made of polished cherry wood. Pictures of the family were set up all around. A portrait of the Levingstons - Aunt Diana, Uncle Ari, and Harper - smiling happily into the camera. Grandma Circe and Grandpa Graham looking regal and stoic. Harper at various ages. A photo from Diana and Ari's wedding, with his family on one side, and Aunt Rosalyn, Uncle Gio, and David on Diana's. The three Warbeck children as kids. Callie's cousins, Luca and Dmitri, flying around on broomsticks.

Where am I? Callie thought. Neither she nor her mother were represented anywhere. Before she could give it any further thought, she heard clicking footsteps and looked over to find Aunt Diana coming towards her. Upon meeting Callie, her face was rather expressionless. With a nod, she greeted in a cool tone of voice, "Calista."

"Auntie," the potions mistress replied just as dispassionately. There was absolutely no sense of warm from the older woman, who Callie couldn't remember ever appearing so stiff and unwelcoming.

Keeping a distance between them, Diana remarked, "You look well."

"So do you. I heard about the career change. Congratulations." Callie knew that she had always had a passion for unicorns. In fact, she'd taught her niece how to ride years ago.

"Thank you," the woman said. "Harper told me about your involvement in the war. Order of Merlin, First Class. Most impressive."

Apparently that was all she had to say on the subject. No "are you all right?" or "what happened to you?" I wasn't looking to impress anyone, Callie thought, a bit bitterly.

Gesturing to the sofa, Diana said, "Would you like to sit?" The younger woman nodded and took a seat, while her Aunt sat across from her.

Once they were settled, Callie said, "I've talked to Harper a few times. She's sweet. And smart, too, I can tell."

"How long have you been working at Hogwarts?" Diana asked.

"Two years. Started right after graduation."

Diana got a pensive look on her face and remarked, "I remember you wanted to be a healer. What happened to that?"

"I decided to put it off for a couple of years. After the war, I..." she shrugged "...sort of needed a rest, I suppose."

There was a moment of silence, before the older woman said, "I was surprised to learn you'd joined in the fight. Harper wrote me you'd participated in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Yes," Callie confirmed. "One of the worst nights of my life, that was. Lost a lot of good people."

I'm sorry. Were you hurt? Are you okay now? No - instead she asked, "Were you forced?"

Furrowing her brow, Callie replied, "What?"

"There've been rumors," Diana explained. "That the students of Hogwarts were forced to join the battle."

The potions mistress had never heard that one before. "We weren't forced, no. Everybody who fought for the Light Side did so voluntarily."

"You volunteered?"

"Of course I did. You know I'm feisty."

"Hmm," Diana murmured.

Another awkward silence passed between them, before Callie said, "I really wish you'd told me about Grandma Circe. I loved her. I would've liked to say goodbye. I'd have wanted to be there for the funeral."

Diana hesitated, before conceding, "I suppose I should have informed you, yes."

"Why didn't you?"

Again she hesitated, and then sighed. "It had been..." she thought back on it "...four years. Four years since anyone had heard from you. No letters exchanged, no contact - we didn't believe you would've cared to know."

The potions mistress was incredulous. They really didn't think she would've cared to know her grandmother was dying? "She's my grandmother," Callie said, as if that bore reminding.

"Yes, she was," Diana agreed. After a pause, "But blood isn't the only thing that bonds a family, Calista."

Taken aback by such a statement, Callie asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that..." she looked as though she were trying to choose her words carefully "...your father passed and you went on with your life. Your grandmother, myself, your Aunt Rosalyn - we went on with ours. We didn't see you that summer. Or Christmas. You didn't reach out to any of us. We were under the impression that with your father gone... you had gone, too."

Callie took that in and recalled explaining to Snape that a lot had gone on the year her father died. For one thing, she'd spent two months in a state of depression; she'd barely talked to anyone during that time. And then Voldemort returned, and she'd been worried about her mother and getting ready to join the fight against the Dark Side... Her mind had been on other things.

But what about them? "Nobody reached out to me," she reminded. When Diana didn't respond to that, Callie prodded, "Well?"

She was thoughtful for a moment, before she leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, and said, "Look... the fact is that you were connected to this family through your father. And after David died, you became your mother's daughter."

What the hell did that mean? "I..." Callie stuttered "...I'm still his daughter even though he's dead." A pause. "And I'm still your niece. And Circe's grandchild. Are you telling me that if you died, Harper would be cut off from the family?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Diana said, "That's different."

How is it different? Callie thought. She stood up and paced the room, rather stunned at what her aunt was telling her. "With your father gone, you had gone too... You became your mother's daughter..."

She'd always been her mother's daughter; what was the woman implying? Suddenly her mind went back to the obituary: "They mentioned both my aunts' husbands but not my mum." Why would they have done that? Because her father was dead and so technically they weren't married anymore?

No - that's not it. As the realization set in, Callie felt her blood run cold. "Bloody hell," she breathed, turning to Diana. "It's because she's a muggle." Her aunt's silence, along with the stony look on her face, confirmed it. Callie didn't know what to say. No one in her family had ever expressed prejudiced views, and her father certainly wasn't bigoted, having married a non-magical woman. "Since when are you anti-muggle?" she asked.

But the woman declared, "I am not anti-muggle. Muggles can do whatever they please, I don't care. So long as they keep to themselves."

Woah! She had not just said that. Callie gaped at her, her mouth hanging open, as though some invisible curtain had been lifted and she was seeing a side of her aunt that she'd never been aware of. Dropping back down onto her seat, the potions mistress exclaimed, "Jesus... fucking Christ!"

"Watch your mouth!" Diana barked. "And don't you ever take the Lord's name in vain in my house!"

"'Watch my mouth?!' Are you playing with me? I cannot believe what I just heard!"

"What did I say that was wrong?"

As though it should have been obvious, Callie replied, "'So long as they keep to themselves'?"

"Yes. And the International Statute of Secrecy agrees. Muggles and magical people are not meant to mix, that's why we have to live in hiding."

This was getting worse and worse. Exasperated, Callie rose up and exclaimed, "Merlin's beard, I was hearing this same kind of thing from Voldemort's Death Eaters when I was in school!"

"Don't say his name," Diana cut in.

"Why not, he's dead! I saw him killed. I was there, I was fighting against people who had the exact same ideas that you have! I never knew this about you. I never-" She cut herself off, feeling like she'd just dug up some dirty family secret that had been hidden all these years. "Daddy wasn't prejudiced," she said. "Obviously. So how did you end up a bigot? Is Aunt Roz anti-muggle, too? Was Grandma Circe?"

Diana stood up and approached Callie, an angered expression on her face. "None of us were 'anti-muggle' until your mother showed up," she declared. "And we welcomed her with open arms because he claimed to be in love with her. But she forced him to live as one of her kind, pretend to be somebody he wasn't. He had to repress his abilities living in a non-magical community."

"Which he was perfectly happy to do," Callie said with contempt in her voice. Not once had her father expressed regret or unhappiness at living in a muggle town. "She didn't force him into anything."

The woman didn't look convinced. "She kept him away from us. He rarely visited. Three times a year I saw my baby brother. Holidays. Other than that, he was practically a stranger to us."

Callie considered that and replied, "I think we both know that if he'd wanted to see you more often, my mum couldn't have done anything to stop him. And she wouldn't have tried to. She's never had a problem with any of you."

"And neither did David. That is, until he fell under your mother's influence. We were close, he and I and Rosalyn. We'd gotten along splendidly our whole lives. Then suddenly the letters started coming less and less, and any time I wished to see him, he'd have 'work obligations' he couldn't get out of. I asked him to be Harper's godfather, and he declined."

And she assumed that that was all her mother's doing? "You don't believe your prejudice against his wife had anything to do with that?" Callie asked.

"As I said, we were cordial to her," Diana insisted. "And then she wouldn't even allow him to be interred in the family mausoleum." She became teary-eyed as she said this.

"They picked out their plots together years before he died. Believe me, that was his choice, too." The older woman had nothing to say to that, and after a moment, Callie asked, "What does his headstone look like?"

Diana appeared to be caught off guard by the question. "I beg your pardon?"

"His headstone. It wasn't set up until a few weeks after his funeral. Tell me what it looks like." Apparently she couldn't do it, falling right into her niece's trap. "Have you ever visited your baby brother? Left flowers on his grave?" Scornfully, she added, "Or do you refuse to set foot in a muggle cemetery?"

Still, Diana didn't respond. Callie moved away from her, thinking back on the summers and Christmases they'd all spent together back in the day. After a while, she mused, "I remember those holidays. Mum and Dad were always arm-in-arm, you couldn't separate them. I didn't recognize it then, but... there was always a distance between her and you and Aunt Roz. And Grandma. It was as though you three had your own little clique and she was an outsider." Looking back at her aunt, she went on, "You didn't welcome her, you put up with her." She could even remember a time when Luca had referred to her mother as Susanna, instead of Aunt Susanna, and her father had had to correct him. Had Rosalyn told him to drop the title?

"And then eventually," Callie continued, "she stopped coming to family events. It was only Dad and I. She always told me that she had to work. Or that she was due to spend a Christmas with her own side. But the truth was that she didn't want to be anywhere she wasn't wanted."

In a pensive tone, Diana said, "We tried so hard to convince him to leave her. Mother begged him to come and live with her. Told him to bring you along; that you ought to be brought up in a magical environment. She didn't care that you were... mixed. 'Under the proper influences,' she said, 'the girl will turn out all right.'"

Callie's expression turned to one of sorrow as she took that in. Grandma Circe had thought that about her? That she was innately defective, in some way, because she was a half-blood? The woman who had made her special cupcakes and sat by the pool for hours at a time watching her swim? And tried to doll her up in floofy dresses, told her stories, and let her keep a pygmy puff at her house because she couldn't bring a magical creature home to Muggleville?

In a quiet voice, Callie replied, "Well, I guess I'm... a real disappointment, then." She had to fight back tears as she said, "A stain on the good Warbeck name, is that it? Is that why I don't get to know when someone dies, and why nobody writes me?"

"You seem to have been doing well without us," Diana replied coldly. "Order of Merlin, First Class. Cushy post at Hogwarts."

Torture, beatings, fighting for her life. Grief, not only for her father, but the friends that she'd lost in the war. Post-traumatic stress. Yes - sunshine and rainbows it's been since you saw me last. She took a breath to try and calm herself, then folded her arms and asked, "Where is my money?"

Cocking a brow, Diana replied, "Excuse me?"

"Circe's estate was supposed to be split between you, Rosalyn, and my dad. Since he's gone, then his share was supposed to be left to me. So where is it?" She didn't give a damn about the money itself, but the idea that she'd been so thoroughly written off that she was no longer deserving of any inheritance.

Diana summoned a thick roll of parchment and held it out to Callie. "Shortly after David's death," she explained, "Circe had everything rearranged. Her concern was that your dear mother would attempt to get her hands on whatever was left to you. And she couldn't allow that."

Callie gave her a look of disgust. Susanna could provide for herself, and on top of that, she'd inherited quite a bit from her parents. As such, she and David had agreed that if anything ever happened to him, Callie would be the sole beneficiary of his gold. "My father had his own money, and he left it entirely to me. My mother hasn't touched a sickle."

In an airy tone, Diana replied, "Then you have nothing to worry about," and vanished the will, which Callie had made no move for. Surely it would only confirm what her aunt had told her.

The potions mistress held her gaze for a long moment, thinking that this stone cold, prejudiced bitch was not the woman she remembered from childhood. You took me unicorn riding, she thought, brought me to the symphony and the ballet, braided my hair and did my nails, taught me how to swim...

And now she was, quite literally, looking down her nose at her niece, as if she were a piece a trash that needed to be swept from her fancy marble floor. Without a word, Callie turned away, slowly wandering back to the entrance hall.

"And by the way," Diana called out, "you'll keep your interactions with my daughter to a minimum. Speak to her only in regards to academics."

Callie paused at the door, looking back at her one last time. Bloody hell - she wasn't merely nothing to the family. Apparently she was an enemy now. Someone to be deliberately avoided. In her head, she called upon her father: Daddy... what happened here?

He would've been the only person who could have provided the comfort she needed at the moment. And as she departed the Levingston house in silence, she felt more alone than she ever had before.

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Severus was going over essays in his quarters when he heard the door unlock. It was treated with an anti-Alohomora charm, but he'd given Warbeck an actual key so she could let herself in. He furrowed his brow upon seeing her, as her hair and clothes were soaked and she had a blank look on her face. "Why are you wet?" he asked in lieu of greeting.

In a flat tone, and appearing distracted, she replied, "It's raining outside."

He glanced out the window behind him, but it was impossible to tell beneath the pitch-black lake. "You didn't conjure an umbrella?"

With a slight shrug, "I like the rain." She moved like a zombie throughout the room, staring off into nothingness, and clearly troubled.

Severus stood up, conjured a towel, and brought it over to her as he asked, "Did you see your aunt?" She nodded yes, taking the towel but not bothering to dry herself. Obviously the reunion hadn't gone well. "What happened?"

She didn't respond right away, and he wondered if it was a matter she didn't wish to discuss. Perhaps a full minute went by before she spoke, and her words were not what he had been expecting. "I'm a war hero," she declared. "I invented a shield for the Cruciatus Curse. I'm the first female potions master at Hogwarts in a century." She paused, then added, "I'm accomplished. I climbed Everest." Again she paused, bowing her head in a dejected manner. "But I have never felt more worthless than I do right now."

Severus was taken aback by that statement. After a beat, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

Warbeck hesitated, but explained, "She said that since my dad died... that I'm my mother's daughter now. My muggle mother."

Christ, Severus thought, recalling the omission of the woman from the obituary. He'd figured it couldn't have been a mistake that the only non-magical in-law had been left out, but he'd kept that suspicion to himself. "They don't accept her because she's a muggle," he remarked.

"I never knew that. I was too young to see it then. And Mum and Dad never said anything." She got quiet a moment, before she went on, "But I guess... they don't accept me anymore either."

"Why?" Severus asked. "They did before."

She pondered the question and replied, "No, I think... I think they tolerated me, for Dad's sake. But now that he's dead..." She trailed off, and Severus could tell she'd been blindsided by whatever her aunt had said to her. In spite of the fact that they'd lost touch, the girl had spoken of having pleasant memories of her paternal family.

"She didn't even ask about the war," Warbeck continued. "Or what I'd been doing the last five years. She didn't care. I could've died in the Battle of Hogwarts, and I don't think she would've cared." Rubbing her forehead, she muttered, "Probably wouldn't have even known about it." She fell quiet again, pacing the room in thought. After a while, "She had no photos of me. There were photos of my dad, and Aunt Rosalyn's kids, but not me. There used to be. I remember." She stopped pacing and stood with a far-off look in her eye. "I remember a stocking with my name on it at Christmas; we all had one hung up over the fireplace. I remember Uncle Ari lifting me up to put an angel on the tree. I remember family Quidditch games in summer - Auntie Roz put me in front of her on the broom, and she steered while I played beater." A pause. "Grandma's tropi-cupcakes..." She buried her face in her hands and began to cry. "No more tropi-cupcakes."

Severus came forward, hesitated, then pulled her against him as she sobbed. "She cut me out of her will," the girl said. "And said that I... I... I'd turn out all right if I were... 'raised under the right influences.' She wanted my dad to take me away from my mum." Another pause. "I thought she loved me. I thought they all loved me. Diana doesn't even want me speaking to Harper." With a scoff, she added, "Like she's afraid the muggleness is going to rub off on her."

The Defense teacher's heart was aching for the girl. He guessed this was the first time in her life that she'd ever felt the sting of rejection, and it pained him to know that she was going through the same shit that he'd gone through. His father had despised him for being magical, wanted little to do with him. And now Warbeck was being shunned by her family on account of her muggle blood.

Still embracing her, he muttered, more to himself than to her, "Damn the sons of bitches to hell." He could've cursed these people for breaking her heart and making her feel like she was nothing. After a moment, he declared, "You are not worthless. They believe you're beneath them because of your blood? I couldn't have told you who Diana Levingston or Circe Warbeck was until a couple of weeks ago. Neither are anyone of note."

He paused, before going on, "But Callie Warbeck is... 'a rock star in the world of spell development.'" She chuckled at her previous claim about herself. He continued, "A war hero. The first female potions master at Hogwarts in a century, and the youngest ever appointed to a teaching position. Exceptionally brilliant. Courageous beyond measure. Devoted godmother. Adored by everyone who's had the pleasure of knowing her." He pulled back and lifted her chin to make her look at him. "You are inferior to no one," he said in a quiet voice. "Those people are beneath you in every conceivable way. And if they don't recognize that, it is because they are either exceedingly thickheaded or deranged. But either way they deserve not a moment of your consideration."

He moved his hand from her chin to her cheek, and she shut her eyes, leaning into his touch. After a moment, she looked up at him and whispered, "Thank you." He held her gaze, brushing his thumb along her skin, and suddenly he was overcome with the urge to kiss her.

Which caused him to remove his hand and take a step back, turning away from her. "Would you like a whiskey?" he offered, admonishing himself for the intrusive thought.

"Red currant," she replied.

He poured them both a drink, then gestured for her to join him on the sofa. She told him more about the Warbeck family history and her disastrous meeting with Diana as he dried her hair, and after a while he allowed her to cuddle up close to him, wrapping an arm around her while she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.

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Callie went to see her mum the following day, and the woman confirmed that there had always been a quiet sort of hostility between her and the Warbecks. "They tried to be civil in the beginning," she'd said. "But they always thought your father had made a mistake marrying me. We weren't compatible, in their eyes."

"Because he was magical and you weren't?" Callie asked.

"What else? They asked if I'd explained it to my family, and when we told them no, they said it was never going to work. All the secrets and lies - David living in a muggle town where he couldn't be himself. They thought that he would have to deny who he was, give up magic."

Apprehensively, a bit afraid to hear the answer, Callie asked, "Did he ever regret it? Living like a muggle?"

Susanna rolled her eyes and said, "He didn't live like a muggle. He practiced magic all the time - just not in front of the neighbors. He worked for Gringotts, he had magical friends, he took me to wizards-only restaurants and theatres and galleries. Every year, the three of us would spend a day at the Majestimalia Zoo, remember? And the time he dragged us to the Quidditch World Cup? Once he took you out on his broomstick; I almost had a heart attack. He was always summoning things instead of picking them up. I'd be sitting there and all of a sudden the remote would fly across the room. He thought that was funny. He made the ornaments on our Christmas tree dance. He was in and out of that fireplace twice a day. And once in a while he'd come up to me with a seed in his hand and magic in into a fully-grown rose."

Callie smiled at the memory of that last. There was no doubt in her mind that her dad had been happy with her mum. And the woman assured her, "He had no regrets about the choices he'd made. I was the one who was doubtful. At first. Thought that a wizard for a husband was going to... complicate things. Couldn't tell my own mother what he was. Or my sister." She paused, thinking back on it. "But he told me we'd figure it out together. That nothing else mattered. As long as he and I were standing side by side, the whole world could fall apart and we'd be all right."

As the younger woman took that in, a question occurred to her - "What was the last thing he ever said to you?"

With a wistful smile, Susanna replied, "Same thing he told me every day as he went off to London. 'Love you, babe.' Then he'd give me a wink and disappear in the flames."

The following weekend, Callie stopped by Andromeda's. She stood in the kitchen with Teddy at her side, dipping her hand into a jar of ginger. "This is a sprinkle," she informed him, dropping a bit into a bowl of cake batter. "Now you won't ever make the same mistake that I did."

"Spwinkle!" he squeaked excitedly. "Aun'ie Callie make cubcakes!"

"Sprrrinkle," she corrected as she stirred the batter. "Aun-t-ie. Cu-p-cakes."

"Cuh-puh-cakes," he mimicked.

Smiling down at him, she said, "There, you got it, little man. Here, have a taste." She handed him the spoon so he could have a lick.

"Aun-tuh-ie," he said, smearing batter all over his mouth. "We pway dwagons." Harry had given him a set of moving model dragons for his birthday, and they were currently his favorite toys.

"We play dragons," Callie agreed. "Soon as I get these in the oven." He ran off to the sitting room while she used her wand to whip up the passionfruit icing that Circe had taught her to make. I did turn out all right, Grandma, she thought bitterly. Even under a muggle's influence. She dipped her finger into the icing and gave it a taste, pausing as she was brought right back to childhood and the woman's kitchen. Picturing her face, she recalled Snape's claim that she'd inherited her grandma's mouth and eyes. And then she had to fight back tears, taking a deep, calming breath before she whispered, "You hurt me. But I forgive you. Love is stronger than hate." She had to believe that somewhere deep down, the woman had cared about her, at one point anyway.

She slid the cupcakes in the oven, then joined Teddy and Andromeda. As she entered the room, she did a little dance and sang, "Heeey, Jude... don't make it bad..." Teddy's face lit up and he clapped his hands; unlike Snape, he actually enjoyed it when she sang. "Take a sad song, and make it better..."

Andromeda joined in. "Remember to let her into your heart... then you can start... to make it better..."

Callie raised her brows in delight and exclaimed, "You know it!"

"Oh, of course," the older woman replied. "Ted was a young boy during Beatlemania. Never got over the phase. Used to sing to me and Dora. Not very well, I might add." Her expression turned nostalgic as she said, "But every once in a while I find myself humming the melodies."

To this day, Callie was still amazed that the beautiful, gentle, loving woman who sat before her was related to psychotic, hate-filled, murderous Bellatrix Lestrange. At one point the former had even tearfully apologized to Neville for what her sister had done to his parents, as though it were in any way her fault.

Kneeling down on the floor, Callie summoned from her purse the Chinese Fireball model that Neville had bought her during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. "Teddy Bear," she said, holding it up to him, "he needs a name. You got a name for this one?"

He took the model, considered it, and said, "Callie!"

"My name's Callie. How about..." she inclined her head in thought "...Smokey?"

"Jude," he replied.

She smiled widely and said, "That's excellent! Why didn't I think of that?" He proceeded to try and sing Hey Jude, but it was more babbling than anything else. To Andromeda, Callie remarked, "He's gonna be a rock star when he grows up. Blue hair and all, very punk."

"Hmph," the older woman breathed, grinning. She watched her grandson and his godmother play for a few minutes, before she spoke. "Callie... I'm so sorry for what happened with your aunt." Susanna had confided in her about the whole ordeal, and Callie had given a rundown of the conversation with Diana. "I know how devastating it can be when family turns on you."

The potions mistress froze, as it suddenly occurred to her that Andromeda had also been shunned, and for much the same reason. Just like her Dad, she had married someone with muggle blood. Looking over at her, she said in a quiet voice, "Oh, bloody hell. I- I didn't even... I forgot about your history."

"Hmm. The second I announced my engagement to Ted, I was no longer a Black."

Callie wanted to say, Thank God for that, but thought that would be rather insensitive.

Andromeda went on, "After that, Ted and Dora were the only family I had. I was friendly with his siblings, but..." she shook her head slightly "...we lived in different worlds - magical and muggle. Didn't see them all that often. There wasn't any friction, just... a matter of circumstances, different lifestyles." She paused, looking thoughtful. "They were good enough to come to our wedding, to visit when Dora was born, to send birthday and Christmas gifts. Exchange the occasional letter." Her expression turned slightly cold as she went on, "I sent a wedding invitation to my parents and sisters, wrote them after I gave birth... All my letters were returned unopened."

Callie gave her a sympathetic look and said, "I'm sorry."

Andromeda continued, "My sisters didn't tell me of my mother's death. And after I found out, I started checking the obituaries daily, to see if my father had passed. Finally happened in '92. I'd always planned on showing up at his funeral unannounced. He was my father, I deserved to see him laid to rest." Again, she paused. "But then I realized... he wasn't there to give me away. And he never cared to meet his first-born grandchild. And he didn't want me. Neither did my mother, or Bella or Cissy. I was born to them, but they weren't my family."

The potions mistress felt her sorrow, relating to her more than she ever had before. And on top of everything, she didn't even have her husband and daughter anymore. Fuck my family, Callie thought. I'd throw 'em all off a God damn cliff in exchange for getting Ted and Tonks back for her.

"It took me a long time," Andromeda said, "to come to terms with the fact that my blood relations were, essentially, strangers to me. And when I lost Ted and Dora, I thought, 'How am I going to get through this? I have no one to turn to.' But soon enough I found out I was wrong." She leaned forward and took Callie's hand in hers. "Harry came to me and said, 'Ma'am, I've got a very good friend who knew Tonks and Remus, and she's loyal, she has a good heart, and she'd die for the people she loves. I think she'd make an excellent godmother for Teddy.'"

Callie heart swelled with affection for the Boy Who Lived, and the woman went on, "And then she showed up at my door and I never had to wonder again how I'd get on. I wasn't alone. Harry has been like a son to me, and you've been like a daughter. Your mother has been more of a sister to me than Narcissa and Bellatrix ever were. I thank you for bringing us together." She smiled softly and squeezed the potions mistress's hand. "You and your mother and Harry... you're my family. Blood and genes have nothing to do with it. The people who love you, the ones who are there for you in the worst of times - and in the best - they're your family. And I give thanks every day for the one I have."

The potions mistress was on the verge of tears. She leaned forward and embraced her friend - her surrogate aunt - tightly. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you, too, Callie. Don't you ever feel that you're alone. Or unwanted." After a moment, they broke apart, and both women were wiping their eyes and sniffling. "I've got something else I need to talk to you about. I've discussed it with Harry already."

"What is it?" Callie asked.

Andromeda took a breath and met her eye. "In the event that anything should happen to me-"

Callie's face fell at the morbid change in topic, and she cut in, "Drommie..."

But the woman held her hand up and said, "I know, I don't like to think about it either. But this is of the utmost importance. Teddy has no legal relatives. I need to make sure that he's taken care of if I should be unable to raise him."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. Harry and I wouldn't let him end up in an orphanage."

"I know. But I need to make it official. I have to name a legal guardian. And I want it to be you."

Callie was stunned. Being a godmother was one thing, but she would entrust her with sole custody of the boy? "You-" she stuttered. "You'd want me to raise him?"

"Yes. I actually thought about asking your mother, but... how is she going to explain it to people when his hair changes from blue to pink before their eyes?"

The potions mistress chuckled, then asked, "And Harry?"

Thoughtfully, Andromeda explained, "I suppose I was drawn more to you because... you remind me a bit of Dora. Personality-wise. And I see the way you interact with him. I get a 'big brother' feeling from Harry, but you... I can see you as his mum." A pause. "Females mature more quickly than males, perhaps that's what it is."

Again, Callie chuckled and looked over at Teddy. "I would take him home with me right now if I could," she said. "But I hope I never have to." Back to Andromeda, "If he ever needs somebody else to raise him... then yes, it would be an absolute privilege."

The woman pulled her in for another hug, and whispered, "Thank you."

"No," Callie replied, "thank you. For everything." The people who love you... the ones who are there for you... Her, Neville, Harry, Astoria, Hermione, Snape... She shut her eyes, envisioning the pink glowing light of her shield. And nothing could've hurt her in that moment.