4. Love Lives

"What a momentous occasion," Callie's mum remarked with sarcasm as she poured them each a cup of tea. "Finally dragged yourself away from your boyfriend and your studies and whatever else you've been doing the last three months."

The younger woman thought back on it, and asked, "Has it really been that long since I saw you last?"

"Yes," Susanna replied. "Your birthday. I was beginning to feel a bit neglected."

Looking just a tad guilty, Callie said, "I'm sorry. Guess I've sort of been a stranger. But you know how medical school is. Healer training is the same."

The other took a seat and sipped her tea. "So how has that been going?" she asked.

Grinning at her muggle physician mother, Callie mused, "If you only knew the freaky things that can happen to wizards and witches... No heart disease or cancers, but just last month I saw a bloke that had been in the process of becoming an Animagus. Hadn't quite gotten there yet. Had a long neck and limbs like a giraffe, but the rest of him was all man."

Susanna merely stared at her a moment, before exclaiming, "How do you fix something like that?!"

"Transfiguration charms," Callie replied. "Healer Gold set him back to normal and sent him on his way."

The older woman breathed, "Bloody hell," shaking her head in disbelief at the fantastical workings of magical medicine. "Anyway," she said after a pause, "what's this about you and Snape 'playing house?'"

Callie shrugged her shoulders and explained, "Essentially we're living together. Have been ever since I bought the cottage."

"Little bit hasty, don't you think?"

"Well, it's not like we've committed to it. He's still got his private quarters at the castle. He just doesn't sleep there very often."

Susanna studied her, before she remarked, "I remember when you moved Neville in here the summer before sixth year. Do you think you might have a tendency to rush into things?"

"That was different," Callie countered. "Neville only stayed with us because he was doing that protective white knight thing he does. Remember, that was the summer the war started." After a pause, she continued, "And trust me, Snape isn't one to be rushed into anything."

Taking that in, Susanna said, "Well... sometimes I don't know what to expect with you. At sixteen you were ready to run off and become Mrs. Callie Longbottom."

Rolling her eyes, the other replied, "Yes, well, I think I've grown up a little since then."

"So no wedding bells in the immediate future, then?"

"Bloody hell, no!" She paused, before adding, "In fact, I wouldn't hold your breath for the distant future either. The concept of marriage is entirely too normal for Severus Snape."

Cocking a brow, Susanna asked, "Is that what he said?"

"No, it's just what I assume." She actually hadn't given the matter much thought, and didn't care to do so now. "In any event, I'm not ready to settle down any time soon. I'm happy with the way things have been going."

Her mother considered that, and said, "Very well. Then as long as you're being careful, I suppose I'm all right with you living in sin with a forty-year-old man."

"Forty-one, actually," Callie corrected. "And what about you? How's your love life?"

Not good, if the older woman's expression was any indication. The previous year, she had gotten involved in a semi-serious relationship with a bloke named Simon. However, Susanna had told him that she never wanted to remarry, as she wanted Callie's father to remain the one and only man she ever made that particular commitment to. Simon, in turn, had come to the conclusion that he couldn't compete with the woman's first husband, and that had been the end of that.

Presently, Susanna sighed, then looked over at her daughter and asked, "Do you know of any reasonably attractive, good-natured, single wizards in the forty to sixty age range who might be willing to date a muggle lass?"

Utterly taken aback by such a query, Callie stammered, "I... I'm sorry?"

With a pensive expression, the other explained, "I've been thinking about what you said when I started dating Simon. You were right, I hated not being able to be open with him about you and your father. My life is tied to the wizarding world; I don't want to have to watch what I say or maintain lies for someone I may potentially end up spending the rest of my life with."

Callie pondered that, and replied, "So... you want me to fix you up with a wizard?"

"If you're not terribly uncomfortable with the idea," Susanna said. "But you seem to have become a bit more accepting of my pursuit of romance."

"Yes, I really have grown up, haven't I?" A silence passed as Callie went over all the wizards she knew who met her mother's criteria, but there weren't many that came to mind. "I'll need some time to think about this," she said, sipping her tea. "What exactly is your type, by the way? Physically, I mean."

The woman considered it, then reached over to grab a picture of her late husband and handed it to Callie.

"Oh, come on!" the younger exclaimed. "Nobody's as handsome as Daddy."

Taking back the photo and gazing at it lovingly, Susanna mused, "He really was perfection." After a pause, "I suppose I don't really care what they look like. Intelligence, charm, perhaps a decent sense of humor..."

"Respectful, a gentleman, and willing to lay down his life for his woman," Callie cut in. Grinning, she explained, "That was Daddy's advice for the kind of bloke I oughta bring home."

Susanna smiled to herself. "You want a man who treats you like your father treated me. I was a queen in his eyes. Not a day went by that he didn't make me feel special." With a thoughtful look on her face, she added, "Perhaps he ruined me for other men."

"In that case, I do know a couple of nice-looking lasses you might be interested in," Callie joked.

"Ha ha," the other said sarcastically.

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Later that evening, Callie met up with Hermione for a girls' night at the ballet. As they took their seats, the latter said, regarding her husband, "He never wants to do anything like this." Currently, the auror was out of town on a field mission. "Not one for culture. More of a pub crawl and Quidditch man."

"Yes, I would've guessed that about him," Callie remarked.

"I brought him to an art gallery once. All he cared about were the hors d'oeuvres." This she had said with an irritated roll of her eyes.

The other woman smirked at her friend's vexation with her husband. "I can't believe you've already been married for two years." After a pause, "I never would've taken you for the type to settle down so young. Or him, for that matter."

There was a somewhat troubled look in Hermione's eye that gave her girlfriend the distinct feeling that it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows between her and Red. In a quiet voice, the Gryffindor said, "I sometimes wonder if we should've waited a while."

Callie raised her brows in surprise at that remark. Up until now, Hermione had never spoken of any major problems in her marriage, and certainly hadn't expressed any regrets. "What would've been different?" the Slytherin asked. "Do you think you might not have...?"

She trailed off, and Hermione sighed. "I'm not saying I don't love him anymore or that I don't want to be married." A pause. "It's just that he can be a bit childlike at times. Perhaps a few more years of living on his own would've forced him to grow up a bit."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean that he's not the most self-sufficient. And I sort of blame Molly for that. She was a stay-at-home mother, she took care of all her children's needs and her husband's. She was the cook and the maid in their house, and now I think Ron expects me to be the same - despite the fact that I have my own career just as he does."

Ah - so the man was attempting to force her into a Holly Homemaker role. And Hermione Granger was not that type of woman. Not because she was a terrible housekeeper and cook, as was the case with Callie, but because she was simply too ambitious and independent to serve as her husband's caretaker.

"So give me some examples," the Slytherin urged. "What's it like to live with Ronald Weasley?"

Thinking it over, Hermione replied, "Well, he's messy, for one thing. He doesn't see a point in making the bed in the morning because we're just going to get back into it at night. I have to remind him to throw all his empty butterbeer bottles away or put his towels in the laundry basket. He leaves all the cooking to me because he doesn't know how and won't take the initiative to learn. And do you know what he said when I called him out on all this? He actually told me that we ought to get a house-elf." She turned to her girlfriend with an expression as though he'd suggested they murder someone. "A house-elf, for God's sake!"

"He actually thought that would go over well with you?" Callie was amazed the redhead had managed to live through that argument.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione remarked, "He can be maddening at times." A pause. "I have to remind myself that he can also be sweet and thoughtful and supportive and the man of my dreams when he wants to be. I only wish he'd put a bit more effort into day-to-days things." With another sigh, she concluded, "We're supposed to be partners. Too often I feel like he takes me for granted."

Callie considered all that, and it made her appreciate Snape even more than she already did. Her bed would be made when she'd come out of the shower in the morning, dinner would be waiting for her when she arrived home from London, and the Defense teacher had even taken it upon himself - during one of his many sleepless nights - to paint a spare room in the cottage, a task which Callie had been putting off for months.

She wished that she could gush about all this to her girlfriend, but even if her situation hadn't been a secret, perhaps that would've stung a bit, considering the Gryffindor's disillusionment regarding her husband.

Instead, she asked, "Is the sex still good at least?" Hermione gave a weak shrug of her shoulder, and Callie shot her a downhearted expression. "Oh, no."

But the other replied, "It's fine, I suppose, just... a little routine."

Shit. Only two years and already they'd begun to lose the spark. "Well... at least you're still getting it," Callie remarked. "When the sex stops entirely, that's the point at which you oughta start worrying."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Hermione asked, "So what's the old, married hag been missing out on, anyway? Anyone particularly fetching on the market?"

The other hesitated for a beat, then said, "I haven't been shopping around. Nobody's caught my eye, at least, so you can't be missing much."

Hermione fell quiet again, her expression contemplative. "I noticed that you've got the scar covered," she whispered. Callie was dressed in a turtleneck sweater.

The Slytherin gave her a look of confusion, unsure of the meaning behind such a statement. "Yeah, so? This is a fancy place. I didn't want to come in looking like roadkill."

"You don't look like roadkill," the Gryffindor said. After a pause, "I'm just wondering if..." she was apprehensive as she went on "...if you're still self-conscious about it. If that's the reason why you haven't been 'shopping around.'"

Oh. Hermione had been there for the low point in which her friend had feared that her physical appearance had been wrecked and that no man would want a woman who'd been marred the way she had. But truthfully, Callie gave little thought to the scar nowadays. It certainly helped that the only man whose opinion she cared about thought she was a goddess, and the way he would press his lips against the scar or lovingly trail his fingertips along its length almost made her feel strangely proud of it.

Presently, Callie replied, "No, it doesn't bother me anymore. If men don't like it, they can up and go to hell."

Hermione smiled at the other's new, unabashed attitude regarding her appearance, but then concern took over again. "Have you dated anyone since Theo?" she asked.

"No. Like I said, I haven't really had an interest in romance lately."

Once again, Hermione was hesitant. "Are you worried that it might happen again? With someone else, I mean?" Looking as though she didn't want to say it outright, she elaborated, "That they might turn out to be... ya know... abusive?"

In spite of all the difficulty in explaining away her perceived lack of a social life, Callie was appreciative of her girlfriend's concern for her emotional well-being. With a soft smile, she said, "Am I too traumatized to get back into the dating game, you mean? No. It's not anything like that. I'm just not actively looking for anyone."

The other pondered that, and asked, "But if somebody happened to show up... would you be open to giving it a chance?"

Callie studied her a moment, a note of suspicion in her eye. "Why? Do you have someone in mind?" Apparently this was a day for everybody to play matchmaker.

"Potentially," the Gryffindor replied.

Cocking a brow, Callie asked, "Is it Charlie Weasley? George is always saying that I oughta marry him and join the family."

Hermione smiled in amusement and said, "No, it isn't Charlie. He's a bloke that I met through the Magical Creatures Department. Based on your exes, I can't really pinpoint what kind of man you're drawn to, but I got the feeling this one might be right up your alley."

The Slytherin was curious as to just what type of man her friend believed she was attracted to. "Why is that?" she asked.

Meeting her eye, the other paused - almost as if for dramatic effect - then explained, "He's a werewolf."

Callie gave her a no-bloody-way! sort of look, before making a seductive sort of growling noise. "I have to admit, you do have a rather spot-on idea of what I'm into," she remarked. If she really had been a single lass, then she would've been jumping at the opportunity to spend an evening with a lycanthrope.

"So..." Hermione said, smirking slightly "...do you want me to arrange a meeting for the two of you?"

Callie didn't know how to respond. Obviously the answer was no, but what excuse could she give for rejecting the offer? Sighing to herself, she replied, "I don't think so. Now isn't the best of times what with the program and the vaccine trials. I've got too much on my plate, I wouldn't make for a very engaging lady friend."

Hermione appeared disappointed by her response, but thankfully, she didn't press the issue. "I get it," she said. "Independent, career-focused woman. In fact, I applaud you for not letting anything else get in the way."

All Callie had to say to that was, "Aye." The theater darkened as the performance was about to begin, and she remarked, "I still think we ought've opted for a strip joint."

The Gryffindor scoffed and shook her head, though she couldn't help but grin at her girlfriend's raunchy mind. And half an hour later, she leaned over and whispered to Callie, "Never mind the strip show." Nodding towards a dancer in a rather tight-fitting costume, "Would you look at the package on that one?"

Rolling her eyes in mock disgust, Callie deadpanned, "Honestly, must you be so crude?"

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The following week, Callie was on her way to a shadowing shift with Healer Gold - and her mother was by her side as they walked the halls of the magical hospital. "Are you sure this is all right?" Susanna asked.

"Yes, I told you, I asked Healer Gold and he said it was fine." For as long as she'd known of the wizarding world, Susanna had been positively amazed by the concept of magical healing. So Callie had spoken with Gold - who was one of the more easy-going of her instructors - about having the woman tag along while the other shadowed. Not only had he been perfectly agreeable to the idea, but there had also been a little glint of excitement in his eye as they'd discussed it.

Callie had walked out of his office thinking, Hmm... I wonder if he's single.

Neither her mum nor the healer had any idea what was really going on, but the plan was that this wouldn't be the last time they'd meet.

Presently, Callie looked over at the sky blue robes - the standard uniform for first- and second-year trainees - that she'd given her mother, and smiled in amusement. "You look good in witcheswear, by the way."

"Thanks. Sort of feel like a little girl playing dress-up, though."

"Well," Callie said, "I thought you oughta look the part."

They approached the nurses' station, where Gold was standing with his head bowed over a patient chart. "Good evening, Healer Gold," Callie called out.

The man looked up at them, and smiled upon seeing Susanna. With a nod to each woman, he greeted, "Good evening, Callie. Doctor Warbeck." Extending his hand to the latter, "Lovely to see you again."

They exchanged a shake as she said, "Likewise. Though I have to say, I'm surprised you remember me."

"Oh, how could I forget?" he replied, still smiling. "You and I spent two weeks together fussing over this lass." He gestured to Callie. "And I never forget the face of a muggle healer. Always been fascinated by how the other half does it."

"So have I," Susanna said. "I hope it's not an inconvenience to you, my coming along. I wouldn't want to get in your way."

"Not at all." He gestured down the corridor and said, "Allow me to introduce you to the magical side of medicine."

Ever the professional, Susanna attempted to remain cool and collected as she and Callie watched Gold tend to his patients. But Callie had to bite back a grin as the woman's eyes widened at the various magical maladies and injuries presented to them. The first was a bloke who'd performed an Invisibility Spell on himself and been unable to reverse it. Not a one of them could see the man, but as Gold questioned him, Susanna leaned close to Callie and whispered, "Is there really someone there?"

"Aye," Callie replied. "Can't you hear his voice?"

Next had been a girl whose nose was swollen to the size of a grapefruit. She'd been hit with a Bat-Bogey Hex, and one of the creatures had gotten itself stuck up there. There was also a patient who was unable to speak normally - all their words came out backwards; for instance, "olleh" instead of "hello."

"Brain injury," Susanna guessed. "Broca's area, perhaps."

"Nope," Callie corrected. "Just a spell."

They came to an inpatient who'd been receiving daily treatments to remove fish-like scales that had grown all over their skin. As Gold examined the man, he asked, "Would you like to take a closer look, Doctor Warbeck?" Hesitantly, the woman went over to him and bent down to inspect the silvery scales.

"Bloody hell," she said in a quiet voice. "And eventually they'll just... fade away?"

"Aye. That's the hope." He reached over for the topical treatment and dispensed a bit onto his fingers. Then he held the jar out to her and asked, "Care to play healer for a bit? Help me apply this?"

Behind them, Callie furrowed her brow. "Underclassmen aren't allowed to provide treatment. How come she gets to do it?"

Cheekily, he replied, "Because she's not an underclassman."

"I'm not a witch, either," Susanna reminded.

"That doesn't matter," Gold said. "You don't need magic to apply an ointment."

The woman hesitated, eyeing the scales before she said, "It's not contagious, is it?"

"No. Spell-induced ailments are never contagious." With that, the two of them went about tending to the patient together.

Well isn't this cute, Callie thought, smiling to herself as she watched them work. "Would anybody like a cup of tea or coffee?" she asked. "I was going to run up to the visitors' shop." Thus giving them a chance to be alone - or at least, not with the woman's daughter hovering about.

When Callie returned from the tearoom, Susanna and Gold were chatting in the corridor as they waited for her. "Green tea latte," Callie said, handing it over to Gold. To her mother, "Sugar, no cream."

"Thank you, dear," Gold replied, taking a sip. "If you'll both excuse me for a moment. I've got to drop my progress reports off with Healer Thornfield."

"Tell him I said hello," Susanna instructed. Thornfield had been the other of Callie's two head healers when she'd been splinched.

The older woman watched him go, before turning to her daughter and pulling her around a corner where they could be alone. Folding her arms across her chest, she asked, "Am I right in assuming he's supposed to be bachelor number one?"

Callie gestured as if to say, Why not? "He's a brilliant healer," she said, "he's charming, he's witty, and he has a nice smile. And after all, he did save the life of your only child." In a teasing tone, she added, "So I guess you do owe him one."

"Does he have any idea what's going on here?"

"No, of course not. But he seemed delighted when I asked if you could shadow us." She paused for a beat, then went on in a whisper, "So what do you think? Would you shag him?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Susanna exclaimed, looking irritated. "Do you always have to be so vulgar?"

"Well that is the point of all this, isn't it?" Callie argued. "Essentially you asked me to be your pimp."

To that, Susanna merely sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Callie's shift came to an end an hour later, and she noted that Gold seemed a bit disappointed that his time with the muggle physician was over. "I very much appreciate this, Healer Gold," Susanna said, shaking his hand once again. "Absolutely... spellbinding, it was."

Grinning at her, he replied, "Cheeky, you are. The pleasure was all mine."

"Perhaps," Callie spoke up, her eyes on her mum, "since you got to see his side of things, maybe you could show him yours."

Susanna held her daughter's eye, the double entendre not lost on her, then returned her attention to Gold. "That sounds like a fine idea," she said. "What do you say, Healer Gold? May I interest you in the muggle side of medicine?"

His smiled widened, and there was that delighted little sparkle in his eyes. "I would love that. And please, call me Jonathan."

There it is, Callie thought. No going back now - my teacher is going to boff my mum.

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"I suppose it helps that I'll never have to call him 'Daddy,'" she told Snape as they were dining in Muggle Town that weekend. "That she never wants to marry again somehow makes it more tolerable to see her with somebody else."

"Because it preserves your father's place as her one great love," he remarked. "You recognize that no one else will ever measure up to him, in her eyes."

"Exactly. Nobody trumps Daddy." They ate in silence for a while, before she asked, "So what have I been missing out on at the castle?"

"Same old routine, different day," he replied in a bored tone. "Be grateful you no longer have to suffer through the drudgery."

"Well, I actually enjoyed teaching, remember. I miss the students." After a pause, "How is Harlow measuring up?"

He sipped his wine, and then replied, "No one has blown themselves to hell or been poisoned thus far, so I suppose she's fairly competent."

Callie was hoping the woman would prove to be just slightly less successful with the students than she'd been. "I've got an eighty-five percent pass rate for the O.W.L.s, and a ninety-two for N.E.W.T.s. Find out how many of her students pass at the end of the year."

Looking slightly amused by her competitiveness and sense of pride, he asked, "Are you actually hoping for them to fail under Harlow's instruction?"

A somewhat guilty look came over her, and she said, "Only one or two more than when I taught."

"Hmm..." he breathed, appearing contemplative. "And does this take-no-prisoners attitude stem from a professional drive to be the undisputed champion potions mistress... or a desire to one-up the woman who dared to go after what's yours?"

Callie gave him a derisive look and declared, "I was a great teacher. I made unremarkable students into expert potion-brewers. And I left with one of the highest success rates of any professor at Hogwarts. I don't want anybody taking that away from me."

A slight grin curled Snape's lip. "You are ferocious," he commented. "I pity your classmates."

"You're one to talk," Callie said. "You with your marked-up copy of Advanced Potion-Making, refusing to share all your secrets." Nearly every recipe in the text had been revised and improved upon by the man when he had been in school. He'd let Callie have a look at it when she was still the potions professor, but demanded that she not share his revisions with the students. On top of that, he'd rejected her idea of having his findings published in an updated edition of Borage's work.

She knew this was because he didn't care to have anyone achieving or exceeding his own level of expertise on the subject. The high and mighty git.

As they finished their meal, Callie looked out onto a dance floor in the middle of the room, where dozens of couples were swaying to some muggle R&B tune that she didn't recognize. Eyeballing the Defense teacher, she thought, Will he humor me, I wonder? After a moment, she asked - or rather, demanded - "Dance with me."

Without missing a beat, he replied, "No."

"Oh, come on!" she whined. "We're on a date, indulge me. Romance me."

Glancing into the crowd, he asked, "You want to be romanced in front of a roomful of strangers?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I'm not asking you to throw me on the floor and shag me in front of them." Cocking a brow, she added, "Unless you'd be up for that."

He gave her a pointed look, but stayed silent.

"Why are you so opposed to the idea?" she asked. "You've danced with me before."

"Yes, in the privacy of our own-" he paused, before correcting "-your own home."

That little slip of the tongue - "their home" - brought a happy flutter to Callie's heart, but she decided not to comment on it. However, she couldn't suppress a smile as she said, "Your self-consciousness is really cute sometimes."

"Nothing about me is 'cute,'" he argued.

At that, her smile only widened. "So is your stubbornness." Almost as if to challenge that assertion, he kept quiet, and after a moment, Callie said, "All right, then. There's gotta be a couple of unattached blokes in this place. If you won't dance with me, then I'll find someone who will."

The two of them held each other's gaze, and while neither spoke a word, there was a conversation going on between them. What do you think of that? Callie was asking. Are you going to give me what I want, or must I find it elsewhere?

The man remained cool and composed as he said, "I'm not going to deny you the chance to enjoy yourself. You may do as you wish."

For a moment she simply glared at him, then replied, "As if I need your permission." Rising up and looking across to the bar, she surveyed the handful of blokes who appeared to be on their own. And a cheeky grin curled her lip as she sauntered right up to the best-looking one in the bunch.

"Hey, there," she greeted, shooting him her signature wink and what she hoped was a seductive smile.

He raised his drink and returned the gesture. "Wotcher, darling." The man's eyes drifted to the scar, but as he looked over the rest of her - donned in a body-hugging little black dress - it didn't seem to bother him.

"Looked a bit lonely, you did," Callie remarked. "Thought I'd come over and give you some company."

"Fantastic!" he replied happily. "My date sort of flaked out on me last moment."

"Yes, mine was a real tosser as well." With her eyes set on the stranger's, she picked a cocktail cherry out of his glass and, with her best "take me home and shag my brains out" look, slowly brought it to her mouth, making a show out of the way she wrapped her lips around the garnish. He seemed quite intrigued by the ridiculous display of her apparent intent, and Callie thought, This poor bloke really thinks he's getting lucky tonight. She almost felt bad for him.

He wasn't particularly subtle either, as he eyed her up and down once again before asking, "Can I buy you a drink, love?"

"In a bit, perhaps. How's about a dance, for starters?" She held her hand out for him to take, and he did so. As she led him to the center of the room, she noted that Snape was watching her with a rather unconcerned expression on his face. This doesn't bother you, eh? Was he really that indifferent to her flirting with another man? Determined to rattle him, she turned to the stranger and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck and ordering, "Touch me."

"My pleasure," he grinned, setting his hands on her waist. Callie began to move her hips against him, pressing her upper body into his and trailing her fingers through his hair and down his neck. Pretty soon, they were engaged in what was more akin to dry humping than actual dancing, and Callie smirked to herself as the stranger's hands inched closer and closer to her swaying arse.

What do you think of this, Professor? Perfectly at ease at the sight of this bloke touching me, are you?

Then again, it was rather disheartening that he hadn't gotten up and pulled her away or demanded the stranger take his hands off her. Surely he couldn't be okay with this?

Eventually the stranger ventured down to her bum and gave it a light squeeze. All right now, this is getting too familiar, Callie thought. But just as she was about to tell him to back off, he pulled away and looked down at her with a curious expression, as if he suddenly didn't know what he was doing with this strange woman whose arse he was holding in his hands.

Callie inclined her head as if to say, What's wrong? But before she could speak, he let her go and took a step back, then wandered off as though in a daze.

What the hell was that? Callie thought in bewilderment, standing alone amongst the crowd of couples. Had the bloke found something particularly objectionable about her arse? She couldn't help but feel a bit dejected, but then she heard the quiet, silky voice of Snape, his breath tickling the back of her neck as he spoke.

"Wonder what his problem was." The man laid a hand on her shoulder and leaned close to whisper, "Seemed a bit confounded, he did."

The implication set in, and she thought, Oh, you little shit. He didn't have to strike or threaten a man for putting his hands on her. Instead, a simple Confundus Charm could keep any amorous males at bay.

In a tone of despondency, Callie remarked, "That could've been the love of my life you just sent away."

He proceeded to wrap his arms around her waist, holding her close as he said, "And that was your revenge for Gwen Harlow, yes? Attempting to make me jealous?"

Actually, revenge had had nothing to do with it; she'd only wanted to shake him a bit. "Did it work?" she asked.

He held her so firmly that she probably couldn't have broken free if she'd had a mind to try. And it felt so bloody good, being wrapped in his remarkably solid arms, the feeling of being... claimed by him.

"I've no need to be jealous, Warbeck," he spoke in that low, rumbling way that set her pulse racing. "I know better. You can tease and bat your eyes at every bloke in this room. Make them believe they have a chance at getting you in bed." He brought a hand up to take her by the chin, brushing his index finger along her bottom lip as he breathed into her ear, "But you're coming home with me."

The combination of his words and his breath against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. She'd been a fool to doubt his opposition to the nameless bloke touching her, as the man did have a possessive streak. Most women probably would've found fault with that, but when it came to Severus Snape, Callie wanted to be possessed.

She had to credit Theo for the discovery that she liked a man who was somewhat dominant - when the situation called for it, at least. Perhaps she could even go back to the biting fetish, which had been her one real "kink" from the time she'd been with Neville. In any event, the staunch feminist was not opposed to giving up a bit of control in the bedroom. And nobody could play the role of a commanding lover as well as the formidable and often aggressive professor.

The man had begun to rock them both from side-to-side, not quite in time with the music, his movements slower and considerably more sensuous than those of the surrounding patrons. Still in that spine-tingling voice, he growled, "Who do you belong to?"

She repeated the words he had spoken to her not long ago - "I belong to you completely."

Apparently he wasn't so self-conscious about "romancing" her among a throng of strangers, because he pulled her hair aside and put his lips to her neck, his free hand caressing her abdomen. Likewise, she had absolutely no concern for anyone who might be gawking at them.

When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "Who gets you excited?"

Callie shut her eyes, savoring the sensations he was stirring up inside her, as well as the deliciously authoritative way in which he spoke. "You do, sir," she breathed.

He kept one hand on her waist as he nipped the erogenous zone beneath her ear, before demanding, "Whose name are you moaning every night?"

The woman traced her fingertips along the arm that was holding her in place, as she replied, "Yours." His own name being called out while they were in bed was about as stimulating for him as the biting was for her. She got the feeling that it gave him a sense of pride.

Wrapping a hand gently around her throat, he ordered, "Say it."

Still with her eyes closed, she purred, "Severus..."

Yes - that definitely had an effect. She could feel his groin shifting against her lower back, and the idea of stunning everybody in the room and taking him right there on the dance floor crossed her mind.

He continued to work on her neck, and she reached back to grasp a handful of his hair. After a moment, he muttered, "People are looking at us. We're making them uncomfortable."

Callie opened her eyes, and sure enough the blokes at the bar were gaping at them, while a well-dressed older woman sat a ways away with a disgusted look on her face. Off to the side, a couple of younger lasses appeared a bit concerned as they kept throwing not-so-furtive glances in the direction of Callie and Snape.

They probably think he's some sort of a predator, she thought with a smirk. And the twenty-some-year-old Calvin Klein models at the bar were no doubt asking themselves, How did he get her?

Turning to face her dance partner, she said, "Let's give them something to really squirm over," and brought him in for a passionate kiss.

How surprising he could be at times. The exceptionally private man didn't push her away or say "not in public, Warbeck," but allowed her to do as she pleased, and he wasn't so shy himself about expressing his desire for her. As he slid his tongue along her bottom lip, he reached around to squeeze her bum - significantly harder than the nameless bloke had done. "This," he growled, lifting her chin with his free hand, "is mine."

Hmph. And not long ago, you had claimed to want nothing to do with me. With a self-satisfied little smirk, she relied, "Yes, sir," and leaned in to kiss him again.

She began to undo the top buttons of his jacket, wondering how far he'd let her go with that. Meanwhile, the hand on her bum made its way to her thigh, and she was shocked when he trailed it far enough upwards to disappear under her dress. What must their audience think about that?

All right, enough dancing, she thought. The vixen wants to play. "Take me home, Professor," she purred.

With his eyes set on hers, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. After a beat, something curious happened - the lights in the restaurant went out, plunging its patrons into complete darkness. It only lasted for a moment, but when the lights came back on, the couple who'd been getting a little too close for comfort were suddenly nowhere to be seen.