Shadow on My Heart

The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent;

the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult;

the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise.

-Aiden Nowlan

Chapter 16: Lessons Learned

The evening before the students were to return to school, Severus leaned against the wall in classroom five, awaiting Potter's arrival. There were many ways he would have preferred to spend his last evening of freedom, and none of them involved Harry Potter. It was probably because of the boy's inability to close his mind that the Dark Lord was aware of, or at least suspected, his involvement with Callista Hawkins. As a result, Severus and Callista had been forced to once again put their lives on hold.

The flash of green flames in the fireplace heralded the young wizard's arrival. The tall, dark-haired figure swiftly stepped out of the fireplace, his wand drawn and ready. Lazily, Severus waved his hand and disarmed his student; he glared at his pupil, his voice silky. "You hesitated again, Potter. Have you forgotten that you should never draw your wand unless fully you intend to use it?"

Potter said nothing as he summoned his wand. He returned the hateful stare in kind. "I have one question, sir. Why am I being forced to take these lessons with you? It's pointless."

Fair enough question, and at least we agree on something. Severus studied his pupil intently before answering him. "You are beginning to sound like Professor Hawkins. If you are concerned with the importance of these lessons, perhaps you should discuss them with the headmaster. If you have nothing further to say, wand at the ready."

The pair exchanged hexes with brutal accuracy. Severus had to dodge the razor-sharp pieces of stone that flew in his direction as a curse struck the wall to his left. For all of Severus's greater experience, Potter out matched him in general stamina. The boy had switched from blocking the curses to ducking swiftly out of the way, enabling him to send fresh curses in the older man's direction. Now that the younger man's aim had improved, Severus found himself receiving more than one significant injury.

Several shards of stone bombarded him, and one of the pieces sliced through his hair, ripping a gash in his scalp. The cut on the top of his head bled freely, mingling with his sweat and dripping mercilessly into his eyes. He needed to tend to the wound before it got any worse. Quickly and silently, Severus cast the Darkening Spell, but refrained from magically enhancing his own sight. Once he heard his opponent mutter the incantation for Dark Sight, Severus re-illuminated the room. As the torches flared brightly, Potter yelled in surprise and pain, using both hands to shield his eyes from what, for him, was now a blinding light source. Not wanting to let the opportunity to go to waste, Severus disarmed the young wizard. Blinking rapidly to help his vision adjust to the increased light, Potter whipped around, looking for his wand.

Severus raised his hand to cast a Stunning Hex. Harry looked up as the jet of red light streaked toward him as he reached for his fallen wand. To Severus's surprise, instead of countering or blocking it, Potter stood his ground, took the hex full on the torso, and dropped on the spot. The younger man's hand landed only a short distance away from his own wand. He stared in disbelief at the inert form of the young wizard. Why would the foolish child take a hex like that?

The professor approached him cautiously. He nudged the boy with his foot. Before he could react, Potter kicked out sharply, catching Snape just below the knee. There was a sickening pop in the joint, and the older man went down, swearing profusely as he hit the cold stone floor. Snape grabbed his knee with both hands, his wand slipping from his hand. Potter rolled across the floor as he scooped up the ebony wand and rose to his feet. Harry approached the fallen professor, saying impassively, "Now, we're even."

Severus struggled to a sitting position, his eyes watering from the pain. When he finally caught his breath, he demanded, "How the hell did you do that?"

"Vigoratus," Harry muttered, waving his own wand at Snape's knee. The pain instantly subsided. The young man regarded him coolly. "How did I recover so quickly from the Stunning hex? For the last two months, I have been hitting myself with my own Stunners, slowly building up my resistance to them. Mild ones at first, gradually building up to the strongest ones I could throw. I used a Shield charm projected onto a wall to practice. After I was able to resist my own, I started letting Callista and Moody stun me."

"You took a gamble, Potter. That could have been something a lot more damaging," Severus said, hiding how much he was actually impressed.

"It was worth the risk." The simple reply was followed by a prolonged silence. Potter extended his hand to Severus, as the professor struggled to his feet. Snape threw a furious look at the boy and refused his assistance.

"I neither want nor need your help, Potter," he hissed coldly.

"Fine, I won't bother in the future," Harry replied in an equally frosty tone.

Severus felt his heart skip a beat at the familiarity of those words. Lily had said those words to him that wretched day when the elder Potter had dangled him upside-down in the air in front of most of the school. The day he had called her a Mudblood and had crushed any chance at a friendship with her. For the first time when he met those brilliant green eyes, he saw the one thing he had always taken great care to refuse to allow himself to see--Lily. He realized that he had been holding his breath.

"You blame me for what happened to her, don't you?" Harry asked, as if he were merely seeking conformation of something he already knew.

Of course I hate and blame you, you filthy little bastard! She didn't need to die. She gave her life to protect your worthless hide! All because she loved your father more than she could have ever cared about me! Something that you have never once appreciated! Severus's mind shrieked in agony. He fought to master himself, hating his lack of control. "Yes, I blame you for what happened to her, I won't deny it."

"Why, because I couldn't tap into Voldemort's thoughts? He hasn't bothered to get into my mind since the battle in the Ministry!" Harry spat indignantly, pointing his wand menacingly between Snape's eyes. "For the life of me, I don't understand what she sees in you. How could she still want anything to do with you?"

Mother of Merlin, he meant Callista! Severus realized in a blinding moment of comprehension. He spoke calmly, yet commandingly. "Potter, lower your wand."

Hesitantly, the youth did as he was told, and Severus found himself breathing a sigh of relief. A Stunning Hex at close range could render him unconscious till morning; any of the Dark curses the boy had learned could very well be permanently debilitating or even fatal.

"I want to hate you," Harry whispered, looking at the wand in his hand. "I want to hate you every bit as much as you hate me. I want to hate you because you hated my dad and Sirius. Because you still hate Professor Lupin. I want to hate you for those mind-raping Occlumency lessons. Mostly I want to hate you because you are a right nasty bastard who deserves to be hated."

Severus felt his own fury and indignation rise in him with each word that came out of the brat's mouth. He finally snarled, "If you had been paying attention to what you had seen in the Pensieve, you would have noticed that I was the one who had been attacked by your father and Black! Two on one, Potter, and it would have been three on one if Pettigrew would have gotten off of his fat, lazy, cowardly ass!"

"Why did my mother stick up for you?" Harry demanded.

"Because she saw your father for what he was--an arrogant, self-centered bully!" Severus roared as his temper got the better of him. And because she was the closest thing I had to a friend until I managed to foul that up.

"You're lying!" Harry screamed. "There's more to it than that! I know there is!"

Severus sprang to his feet, giving in to his rage. He drew his wand, no longer caring what the consequences would be for his actions. This had been Dumbledore's idea, to force them into this situation. Let the end result be on the old man's head! He had already opened his mouth to curse the boy when the fireplace erupted with emerald green flames.

"SEVERUS, STOP!" screamed a voice from the fireplace. "IMPEDIMENTA!"

The two men were blasted several feet from where they had been standing. Severus had managed to curl into a protective ball, preventing the back of his head from connecting with the stone floor. The force of the spell still knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. When he could focus on something other than getting oxygen to his brain, Severus became aware of the source of the spell.

"Do you finally see that this is just too dangerous for them to continue? If I hadn't forced you to listen in on this so-called lesson, they could have killed each other!" Callista's desperate, furious voice was assaulting his ears.

Dumbledore was trying to speak calmly, but it was clear that what he had just witnessed had left him shaken. "Callista, I have told you numerous times that I trust--"

Callista broke in violently, "Damn it, Uncle Albus, this has nothing to do with trust! This is about pushing someone past their limits. There was too much bad blood between Severus and James to have him work with Harry. Didn't you learn that last year with the Occlumency lessons?"

"If I had taught Harry myself, I would have left too many things vulnerable to Voldemort. That has already been explained to you!" Anger was now rising steadily in Dumbledore's words.

"Yet, even though the Occlumency lessons had been a complete fiasco, you still had it in your mind that having a former Death Eater teach Harry Dark curses was a good idea?" Callista demanded, standing defiantly in front of the headmaster, her wand shaking in her hand.

Harry was crawling on the floor looking for his glasses. He replaced them on his face and turned to Callista angrily. "I am more than capable of taking--"

He stopped suddenly as Callista hexed his mouth shut. Her face was red with anger, and Severus was secretly glad that he had had the immense fortune of having the wind knocked out of him. Callista spoke to Harry, clearly conveying that she felt that he was in the wrong. "This has nothing to do with the fact that you may or may not be able to take care of yourself. You pushed him too far, Harry."

Severus was struggling to his feet, his breathing finally becoming less painful. He felt the smirk forming until he caught sight of Callista's face. While the majority of her face was a mask of anger, her eyes reflected the fear that she had been feeling. She had known since the arrangement had first been made that this would eventually happen. Severus realized that Callista had just stopped him from doing something that he would have most assuredly regretted--if only from the perspective that Callista would have despised him for doing it.

"And you," she snarled, turning on Severus, "should learn to open your mouth and speak up when you are in over your head. I blame you every bit as much for what happened as I blame Harry. You are old enough to realize that holding a grudge serves no purpose. I won't deny that James and Sirius and Peter treated you horribly, but you need to let go of it. Lily--"

"That's enough, Callista!" Dumbledore ordered his niece.

"No, Harry needs to know the truth--all of it," she said defiantly. With a slight wave of her wand, she released the hex that was keeping Harry quiet.

"What do I need to know?" Harry demanded, glaring at the three professors.

Severus opened his mouth to answer, but Dumbledore stopped him from speaking. "Severus, we have discussed this before."

I won't tell him any more that what was common knowledge. I won't give him any more information than Lupin could give him. Severus waited for the headmaster to nod for him to continue. "Potter, when we were students, your mother attempted to befriend me. That's why she stood up for me."

"She wanted to be friends with--you?" Harry asked, his expression clearing showing that the idea turned his stomach. Severus glared at him in open and equal disgust.

"What's the matter, Potter? Can't you stand the possibility that your sainted mother would lower herself to talk to someone like me?" Severus sneered. "Rest assured, I never returned her feelings. You see, I had managed to become one of her 'projects.' Befriend the friendless and watch them become a wonderful person."

Callista was staring at him in contempt. She knew the truth: at one time, Severus had wanted more than friendship from Lily. Callista knew that he had been teased unmercifully by his dorm mates for being seen speaking to Lily in the library merely days before the incident by the lake. Fortunately, Callista kept quiet. He would deal with the fallout later; right now he was concerned that Potter was about to vomit on him.

After several uncomfortable moments, Harry pocketed his wand and stormed out of classroom five, muttering a comprehensively filthy string of profanities directed at Severus. Callista watched him leave, looking unsure as to whether or not she should follow him. At last, she turned to face Severus.

"You lied to him. I know that you had feelings for her, Severus. He should know why you hated James." Callista was shaking her head. "I also know that you got over those feelings."

Severus ignored the fact that Dumbledore was watching everything. It no longer mattered if the headmaster knew about them. Severus's long, thin fingers lifted her chin, coaxing her to meet his eyes. When he spoke to her, his tone was bordering on loving. "Callista, that's all he needs to know. He can't inadvertently give away something he doesn't know. He isn't getting any better at Occlumency; the Dark Lord just hasn't tried to enter his mind. It has nothing to do with trust, and everything to do with making sure that we survive. If he ever thinks that he has a reason to trust me, it would mean our downfall. I refuse to take that gamble without good reason."

"Severus is correct, Callista. Once this is all over, there will be plenty of time for the truth. Do not allow your need for honesty to define your priorities. Preparing Harry is our main objective." The headmaster quietly observed his niece. "The two of you need to be vigilant. If your connection is discovered, the consequences would be deadly for Severus. We need him to continue as a spy in Voldemort's inner circle."

Severus glared at her. "I suppose you felt compelled to tell--"

"Severus, I'm old, not blind," Dumbledore interrupted, humor sparkling in his blue eyes. "When Callista Flooed into my office at half past five in the morning, wearing your dressing gown, I did not think you two had spent the night brewing potions or playing chess. I do, however, advise you both to be a bit more discreet once the students return."

"You're not angry?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. He could feel the uncomfortable heat of embarrassment creeping over him.

"Far from it. I actually view this as the past finally correcting itself. You two deserve all of the happiness you can manage." He smiled at them warmly. His lined old face becoming much more serious as he continued. "Unfortunately, you cannot be open about your relationship here; it would look far too suspicious for a servant of the Dark Lord to be walking hand in hand in the corridors with someone so obviously on my side."

"We are aware of that, Headmaster," Severus said.

"I need you both to reassure me that, at least for now, you will put the needs of the Order before your personal desires. Defeating Voldemort must come first if you are to have a hope of a peaceful future." Dumbledore looked from Severus to Callista as he spoke, impressing on them exactly what he expected.

Trying to ignore the throbbing, burning pain on the top of his head, Severus responded almost immediately, "I take my responsibility to you and the Order very seriously."

"So do I, sir," Callista said, looking at her hands. Severus glanced at her, noticing that she was deep in thought. She finally looked up; her expression was unreadable. "I was thinking that Severus may need some back-up the next time he goes to Voldemort. If I could convince Voldemort that I wished to join the ranks of the Death Eaters--"

"Absolutely not!" Severus said firmly, flinching as the pain flared up again. "I forbid you to even entertain the idea, Callista. Bloody stupid thought that it is."

Callista crossed her arms, her face glowing with anger. "Who are you to forbid me to do anything, Severus? You are not responsible for me."

"Callista, given the fact that you once vanished to avoid being found by Voldemort, it is very unlikely that you could be convincing." Dumbledore raised his hand to silence her. "I know that you want to do everything you can to help Severus, but this is something that simply will not work. He would see right through your lie."

Callista looked at the dark-hair man, her face keeping up a desperate fight to hold her fear at bay. "The other morning when you were summoned, I was really convinced that you were not going to be coming back. Severus, you said yourself that you had never been summoned early in the morning like that. Is it possible that his trust is waning in you because of me?"

Severus scratched the back of his neck. "Callista, I need to go on the assumption that he still trusts me. If I start second-guessing myself, he will sense it, and his suspicions will be aroused."

"Severus has long understood the risks involved. He knows how best to handle the situation," Dumbledore said in a soothing voice.

Callista raised her eyes. "But up until now, he hasn't had to take anyone else into consideration. There are more personal matters involved. Even if his main duty is to the Order and you, he can't completely ignore how this effects me."

Severus stared at a gouge in the wall. She was correct of course. When he had lost hope of her still being alive, he had spent many nights wishing for his own death. Once the Dark Lord had been reborn and Severus had been forced to return to his role as a spy, he had known that sooner or later his life could end. He had found himself filled with the possibility that he could be joining her in death. Now, not only was she alive and well, she was once again part of his life.

Yes, the situation had changed--he had a valid reason to want to remain alive, outside of the usual Slytherin sense of self-preservation. But still, his main duty was to Dumbledore and the Order. There was just so much at stake...

Dumbledore's voice broke into his thoughts. "Severus, you need to have that injury attended to."

"I'll take care of it," Callista volunteered, wiping the mixture of partly congealed blood, sweat and grime from Severus's forehead. The headmaster dismissed them. Severus dutifully followed Callista into the fireplace as she announced their destination.

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Once safely in her quarters, Severus sat on the bench at the end of her bed. Callista expertly examined the laceration. She spoke as much to herself as to him. "It's not too deep, but with the blood vessels so close to the surface, scalp injuries always look worse. If you were a Muggle, they would close it with stitches."

"You're not going to do that, are you?" Severus asked, eying her warily. He knew exactly what stitches were.

Callista smiled, "Only if you want me to, but be forewarned, I'm not very good at it."

"If you feel you must, just keep the stitches small. I don't want to look like Potter," Severus grumbled half-jokingly.

"That's not very nice," Callista chided. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Well, I think it would be best if I healed it with magic. I didn't realize that you were so vain about your appearance, Severus. However, it needs to be cleaned the old-fashioned soap and water way first. I'll go and draw you a bath."

A bath--what a luxury that was. Most mornings it was a quick lather and rinse in the shower if he managed to wake up early enough. The last time he had been stretched out in a bathtub was...

"Callista, I'm going to fall over something. Can I take this blindfold off?" Severus asked in a mildly irritated voice, as Callista lend him through her flat.

"Almost," Callista giggled in front of him, bringing him to a halt. "All right, now open your eyes."

Severus removed the covering from his eyes to take in the scene. He was stunned by what he was seeing. They were standing in the bathroom of Callista's flat. The room was softly illuminated with candles, and the cast-iron claw-foot bathtub was filled with frothy white bubbles. A sensual fragrance filled the air, fueling his desire. Two fluffy, white towels were draped over the back of a chair and two bathrobes were hanging on the wall--one emerald green and one pale blue. There was even an arrangement of flowers, regular ones from the nearby market, to complete the intimate scene.

"What is all of this?" Severus whispered, his eyes wide with surprise, turning to a nervously smiling Callista.

"I wanted us to relax a bit," Callista explained anxiously. "But if you think it's silly..."

He looked at her; she wasn't bothering to mask the hurt in her eyes. All that she had wanted was to do something special for him--special in a very female way--something romantic. This was not their usual barely make it to the bedroom while ripping their clothes off routine. Severus had the sense that there was a change taking place in their relationship. They talked more and spent time exploring the neighborhood around her flat. While she had never outright demanded a commitment, he was noticing the anvil-sized hints that suggested that, sooner rather than later, she might. The thought of committing to her terrified him in way that rivaled his fear of the Dark Lord. Yet, the prospect of finally having a real home and a life was enough to dispel those fears.

Callista seemed to want to make the most of their time together, and he had finally realized why. In a few more weeks, the new school term would begin, and his time with her would become very limited. They had decided that meeting in the village of Hogsmeade would be too risky. By now, most of the residents would know that he was a Hogwarts teacher. The other staff members frequented The Three Broomsticks, and her great-grandfather owned the Hog's Head. The latter's rooms, according to Sibyll Trelawney, were infested with bedbugs. He really didn't have a home to take her to. He sure as hell wasn't about to take her to stay with any of his 'friends.' Her flat had become his home. She was almost like his...

"Not at all silly," he said warmly, pulling her to him as he swallowed the lump that had unexpectedly risen in his throat. "I'm just not accustomed to letting you be in charge. Perhaps I should let you be in control more often. What did I do to earn this?"

Callista grinned back, relief obvious on her face. "You put up with me, you prat."

They undressed and slipped into the water. Severus had never felt more contented in his life than he did at that moment holding Callista in his arms. All of the tension he experienced in his life outside of his existence with her seemed to be absorbed in the bubbles. Every transgression he had committed in the Dark Lord's service was washed away as Callista ran the soapy washcloth over his body.

Severus remembered that they had gone to the bedroom after that. Somehow their joining had seemed different that night, more mature, more purposeful. It had been as if something profoundly wonderful and magical all its own had taken place. He had never felt more connected to her. On that precise evening, he had made the decision to find a way to make her more than just another part of the Dark Lord's plan. That was the night he had decided to make her a permanent part of his life. It was on that night...

Oh dear God of heaven and earth! Could that have been the night we conceived our son? Severus thought, quickly counting back and then counting ahead. The time frame was very possible, but they had always been so very careful. They had always used spells or charms, and once, out of sheer curiosity, they had even chanced to a trip to the closest Muggle pharmacy. Neither of them had wanted her apprenticeship to be interrupted. Severus had had the added threat of an evil madman hanging over him. A child was just not meant to be!

"Are you all right, Severus? Is it your head?" Concerned blue-green eyes were locking with his.

"He wasn't meant to be, was he? Our son," he mumbled. "The timing was all wrong. Maybe fate knew what a terrible existence he would have had and decided to spare him all of that pain and misery and suffering."

His response seemed to have caught her off guard. Severus could feel the intense sorrow that was wrapping itself around her heart. A pain that time could not erase, no matter how many years had passed. Callista kept her eyes cast down, possibly so that he could not see the tears that were now forming in them.

"Severus, you need to let go of this guilt. I've forgiven you; I'm sure that our child has forgiven you, and, in time, you will need to forgive yourself," Callista sat beside him on the bench, sliding her arms around him. "As soon as we can manage it, I want to take you to Israel so that you can make peace with him."

They sat holding each other. Finally, Callista ushered him into the bathroom, allowing him privacy to undress and use the toilet. Severus sank into the warm water laced with murtlap and willow bark essences. After he had had some time to relax a majority of the aches away, Callista knocked on the door before entering. She washed the dried blood and sweat from his hair, taking great care not to get any soap in his eyes, before healing the injury. There were many other cuts and bruises, and she healed them as well. They talked about trivial things until the water became too cool for comfort. Callista handed him a warmed towel before exiting.

He dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his narrow waist. Severus caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Normally he avoided a prolonged viewing of his face, using a mirror only to avoid cutting himself when he shaved. Now he peered at his reflection with a type of morbid fascination, half expecting the mirror to shatter.

He looked so much older than his actual thirty-seven years. How had Callista tolerated waking up to such an awful sight these past mornings? His face was harshly lined, looking as if it had been carved from some kind of a pale rock. Was it from scowling, or just a by-product of his austere past? His nose resembled more of a beak from a monstrous bird than a human nose. He bared his teeth for inspection. Dear Merlin, he kissed Callista with that mouth! He was sure that he had an unused toothbrush stashed somewhere in his quarters. His hair was thick and jet black without so much as a hint of gray; it was rather nice. Right now it hung wet and limp around his face, once it dried it would be lank and greasy. He hastily picked up the comb on the edge of the sink and ran it through his damp hair. It made no remarkable improvement to his appearance. As for the rest of his body, it was wiry, pallid and scarred. His eyes were cold and black, rarely warmed by any emotion. What did she see in him? He turned away from the mirror.

Callista was waiting for him in the other room, the sheet drawn modestly up to her shoulders. Severus looked at her, and there was no mistaking the unfeigned look of love on her face. The reasons behind her feelings for him were an utter mystery--one he decided it was best to simply accept. Without a word he threw the towel aside and slid into the bed beside her. The 'why' of her motives really didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that they existed.

They took their time, savoring the feel of each other, not knowing how long it would be before they would have the occasion to be together again. She offered for him to spend the night with her. He declined the offer, reluctantly electing to return to his quarters. Their parting kiss felt as if they were saying farewell. Tomorrow the students would arrive to begin the next term. His little snakes would be back, and once again he would have House responsibilities to fulfill. He needed to get accustomed to sleeping solo--something he was definitely not looking forward to.

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There was a line borrowed from a Rickman film in here. Did you catch it?