Shadow on My Heart

Ode to Disclaimer and Author Notes

I do not own the Potter-verse,

and my poems are getting worse.

Jo's legal team, hear my call:

I swear I'm making nothing at all.

I'll borrow a character now and then,

so listen as I say it again.

Those nods to canon I will make

belong to Jo, for goodness sake.

In canon now there is no chance

of Snape ever finding some romance.

But even if I'm not being paid,

Severus at least is getting laid.

Thanks to my beta, Verity:

she helps me keep my sanity.

Thanks to my readers loyal and true,

especially those who always review.

Now at last it's finally time

for me to finish this awful rhyme.

Read on, but since you can't send money,

leave a review to feed the plot bunny!

Lady Whitehart has been forced to take up residence under a very large rock.

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Chapter 26: The Quidditch Wager

All too soon, the Easter holiday came to an end, and the third and final term of the year was about to begin. Severus and Callista made several more trips into the Forbidden Forest to collect as many unicorn placentas as possible. Once the students returned, Severus found it nearly impossible to accompany her without raising suspicions. As a result, Hagrid escorted Callista into the forest. Within a week they had collected enough to ensure themselves a steady supply of raw materials.

Mid-May arrived and with it came the final Quidditch game of the year: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. As usual it was the most anticipated game of the season. The major inter-House rivalry had become dominant problem at mealtimes, in the corridors and even in the classrooms. The infirmary now housed many Slytherins and Gryffindors who were sporting very odd combinations of curses and hexes.

As the game drew nearer, the staff members themselves often became embroiled in heated debates. More than once the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin turned testy towards one another, forcing Professor Flitwick to be liberal with the application of the Cheering Charm. The truth was that the staff members were just as excited about the upcoming Quidditch match as the students were. Callista and Severus were no exceptions.

"Yes, this year the Quidditch Cup will find its way back to my office," Severus goaded one rainy morning in the staff room during break.

"Uh-huh," Callista mumbled, as she tried to concentrate on the stack of third year Potions essays she was marking.

"Gryffindor really doesn't have much of a chance with Weasley's abysmal goal-keeping ability," he continued, with a smirk on his face.

"Whatever you say, Severus," she said offhandedly, marking yet another parchment.

He leaned over her shoulder in annoyance. "You haven't listened to a word I've said."

Callista rolled her eyes. "I think I could repeat it in my sleep by now."

Severus raised one eyebrow at her. "I think finding out would be an intriguing prospect, Callista."

"How about we make a little wager, Severus?" Callista asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Go on," he urged silkily.

"When Gryffindor wins, you will get the opportunity to please me-- in bed of course-- to my specifications," she whispered in a sultry voice.

"What happens when Slytherin wins?" Severus asked, matching her tone.

"We reverse positions so to speak." Her double entendre was not lost on him.

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Callista, you do understand that the whole purpose of a wager is that someone wins and someone loses. This happens to be a win-win situation."

"Well, there is a catch," she said, running her tongue provocatively across her upper lip. "Since Gryffindor will surely win, you will do me the honor of wearing Gryffindor red."

"Absolutely not!" He jumped away from her in horror.

Callista made a cough that distinctly sounded like "coward".

"Fine, then if -- when Slytherin wins, you will wear green," he sneered, offering his hand to seal the bet.

"It's a bet then," she replied graciously, taking his hand.

As she finished speaking, the door opened, admitting Flitwick and McGonagall. The two eyed their former students warily. McGonagall was the first to speak. "You both realize that betting on school Quidditch games is expressly against the rules."

"Why Professor McGonagall, we weren't betting money," Callista said, sounding as if she were appalled by the very thought.

"What were you betting then?" Flitwick squeaked in interest.

"Rare potion ingredients," Severus said without hesitation. Callista nodded in agreement.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "For the two of you, that could be considered the same as money. Honestly, what kind of an example are you setting for the students? Isn't the rivalry between the two houses bad enough --"

"Now Professor McGonagall, do you really think that ill of us?" Severus asked in an annoyed tone, a taunting smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "After all, you and I make a wager every year as well. While I do enjoy your company for a meal and drinks at The Three Broomsticks, this year I feel very confident that you will be paying the tab."

McGonagall gave them a look that was usually reserved for first years who were caught breaking the rules. "Would you care to join us this year, Callista?"

The man's insides turned icy. Had he and Callista been so obvious that staff members were beginning to notice?

"No thank you, Professor McGonagall. I wouldn't want to intrude," Callista replied innocently, gathering her completed stack of essays and tucking them neatly into her case. The old witch looked at her shrewdly. Callista checked the clock on the wall and headed out the door. "Excuse me, but I must be going. I have an appointment with a group of students before my next class."

"The match will be interesting to say the least. I have never seen two more evenly matched teams," Flitwick piped up, "with the possible exception of Mr. Weasley's goal-keeping skills."

A triumphant sneer curled Severus lips, as McGonagall said without any real conviction, "He can hold his own when he tries."

"I hate to say it, Minerva, but I have a feeling you'll get the bill this year." Flitwick patted her hand sympathetically. He took a few Ginger Newts from the tin on the sideboard before leaving the staffroom.

"I was hoping that Callista would join us," McGonagall said a little too offhandedly. Severus maintained his disinterested expression as he drained his cup. "It would have given the two of you a chance to be out in public without raising too many questions."

"I don't understand what you're getting at," Severus said, calling her bluff.

"I already know what's going on." The older woman's stern expression softened. "Do you love her, Severus?"

Only years of practice in hiding his feelings from the Dark Lord kept him from dropping the cup that was shaking slightly in his hand. He set it on the table; his mind was spinning as he tried to avoid the conversation that was sure to follow. How did she find out? If Callista had said anything to the old woman... He wasn't sure what to say, but he wasn't about to answer the question either.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," he said coldly.

"The two of you haven't been obvious if that's what you worried about," McGonagall assured him. "I'm the only staff member who knows, besides Albus of course."

And Potter. Severus stood stiffly, wondering exactly how much she knew. Surely she didn't know everything. "What exactly do you think you know?"

"You've been intimate," the older woman said bluntly, "for a while now, I think, but definitely since the Easter holiday started."

Severus looked at her, trying to decide how the older woman had figured it out. He should deny it all of course, but... He sank into the chair. "If we haven't been obvious, how did you know?"

McGonagall sat in the chair opposite from his. Her normally stiff and formal demeanor had softened. He waited tensely for her to settle into her chair.

"I learned about your earlier involvement--in general, not in specific-- with Callista when Albus first made the decision to have her return to Hogwarts."

"That entire incident was to remain confidential!" Yet another example of how Dumbledore had abused his trust.

"Severus," she began sternly, "I am the deputy headmistress of this school, and the headmaster felt that I should know. Besides, all of this had happened so long ago--"

"--that you both felt that she would have come to her senses and would no longer spare me a second thought," he snarled. "After all, she had been nothing more than a besotted little girl who had been seduced by her Death Eater professor."

"Had I heard about all of that shortly after the incident, I would have to agree with you," McGonagall said, keeping her tone even. "I would also have pushed to have you dismissed from your post. However, Albus was trying to keep you out of Azkaban. If the fact that you had been involved with a student -- especially one whose father had ties to the Ministry -- had come out, then no doubt Callista's father would have pressured Barty Crouch Sr. to make sure the charges against you held. I suppose that Albus was right to conceal that information... even from me."

He was still fuming over the fact that Dumbledore had decided to breech his confidence. However, he now had more pressing issues to deal with. "Did Callista speak to you about our current involvement?"

"She didn't have to, Severus. Since she nearly died at Christmas, you have gone out of your way to show how much you don't care about her. You have been trying too hard to conceal your feelings. If you hadn't felt anything for her, you would have made a polite inquiry about her condition and then ignored her."

He thought back to how he had burst into the hospital wing. It had been a blatant display of his feelings; surely anyone there could have noticed. For a while, he didn't move or say anything. If McGonagall had noticed, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the staff and the students came to the same conclusion.

"You are positive that no one else on staff knows about us?" Severus asked, searching her face for any hints of dishonesty. McGonagall nodded. "I cannot believe that I am going to ask this, but how do you recommend that I act around her in public? We would prefer to keep our relationship private, for obvious reasons. And if our actions continue to raise suspicions, it could prove deadly in the end."

"Treating her with the same respect that you have always shown me might be a decent place to start. I'm sure that Callista will be grateful for the change. Sniping at each other in public like that will only lead to unnecessarily hurt feelings." The older woman smiled warmly at him, patting his arm before she stood and turned to leave the staff room. She paused at the door and said over her shoulder, "For whatever it's worth, I'm happy for you--for both of you."

Severus stared meditatively into the fire that was crackling merrily, almost mockingly, in the fireplace. Oddly, as his initial consternation over the revelation subsided, he began to feel a sense of something that profoundly resembled relief. It seemed that McGonagall was going to be supportive of them at least. He was shocked to find that was a comforting thought. Perhaps he and Callista were not as alone as he had once thought.

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Shortly before breakfast on the morning of the final Quidditch game, Severus met with the Slytherin team in his office. Crabbe and Goyle were busy poking each other with their beater bats while the rest of the team listened to him. With any luck, those two thickheaded idiots would knock each other out during the course of the game. With even greater luck, they would flatten Malfoy in the process--after he caught the Snitch of course. Higgs, Urquhart and Vaisey, the Chasers, and Harris, the Keeper, stood together glaring at Malfoy as the little ferret prattled on about how Slytherin was sure to win the upcoming game. Severus could hardly blame them for their attitude toward the Seeker. Higgs, after all, was the captain-- a fact which Malfoy had chosen to thoroughly ignore.

"Higgs, what is your strategy for the match?" Severus asked wearily, when Malfoy paused to draw a breath.

Before Higgs could explain his plans, Malfoy arrogantly cut him off. "Personally, I think we should try and take Potter out as quickly as possible."

"Who died and made you captain, Malfoy?" Higgs snarled. Severus was almost hoping Higgs would hex Malfoy. "We need to score as many goals as possible early on and try to keep the Quaffle out of Bell's hands. Watch out especially for those two new beaters; they're much stronger players than we anticipated."

"What about Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"Potter won't be a problem if you do your job and actually find the Snitch." Higgs crossed his arms across his chest.

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but Severus interrupted in a condescending tone, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, you do realize that the Quidditch Cup is at stake here. And if the point spread is enough, we may be able to take the House Cup as well. Both have been out of my office for far too long. However, if all you manage to do is bicker amongst yourselves, then I highly doubt that I will ever see either again any time in the near future."

He curtly dismissed them for breakfast. Had he waited another moment, Severus would have been forced to hex Malfoy himself. He still maintained the hope that Crabbe and Goyle might manage to knock Malfoy out, providing they didn't concuss each other first. The fact that the two of them even managed to stay on their brooms amazed him to no end.

***********************************

Severus climbed the stairs to sit in the staff box at the midpoint of the pitch. The conditions were excellent: relatively clear skies, a light breeze, and the ground was dry. Gryffindor's goals were facing the sun; not that Weasley needed any help to miss the Quaffle. As long as Malfoy managed to catch the Snitch, Slytherin had a better than average chance of securing a victory. If he didn't, the Crabbe and Goyle could use him for target practice.

Taking his usual seat in the staff box, Severus saw that Callista had taken a spot next to Dumbledore and was sitting directly behind McGonagall. He frowned when he saw the commentator was Colin Creevey, President of the Boy-Who-Lived Fan Club; he had thought that nothing could possibly have been worse than Luna Lovegood announcing.

"Are you saving this seat for anyone, Severus?" interrupted Sinistra's voice, as she adjusted her pointed hat.

He made a noncommittal noise and moved over to make room for the Astronomy mistress. She swept into the seat next to him, arranging her robes and straightening her green rosette. Sinistra glanced down at the commentator's seat and groaned. Severus barely managed to conceal his laughter, forcing out a derisive snort instead. He muttered snidely, "I'm sure this will be a very lively and unbiased commentary."

"Well, at least we know this announcer will be aware that there is a match occurring. Honestly, should a Gryffindor even be allowed to commentate on this match?" She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Although, I always did find Lee Jordan to be rather entertaining."

As Severus was opening his mouth to reply, the stadium suddenly exploded with the deafening cheers of the Gryffindor supporters, as the seven scarlet-clad players took to the air. The boo's and hisses of the Slytherins were drowned out immediately as the Gryffindors broke into a rousing chorus of 'Weasley is Our King'. Seven streaks of red zoomed around the outer edge of the pitch as Colin Creevey announced their names and positions.

The Gryffindors had no sooner landed on the ground when the Slytherins took to the air. The seven brilliant green blurs raced around the pitch on their Nimbus 2001 brooms as they were unenthusiastically announced by the Gryffindor commentator. Sinistra rolled her eyes in disgust as the Slytherin team was completely derided by the rest of the school. As Slytherin's beaters wobbled dangerously out of formation, the Gryffindor side of the stadium burst out into raucous applause. Severus stoically stared at the two oafs straddling brooms. Things were beginning to look rather grim indeed and the game hadn't even started.

On the ground, Hooch called the team captains together to shake hands. Severus hoped that Higgs was crushing Potter's fingers. The Keepers moved to circle their goal posts as the rest of the team took to the air. The Snitch was released, buzzing around both Seekers before it disappeared in to the sky. Hooch blew her whistle and released the Quaffle.

Gryffindor immediately gained control of the Quaffle as Bell and Weasley passed it back and forth, streaking toward the Slytherin goal post. Goyle swung at an oncoming Bludger, losing his grip on his bat in the process. Severus cringed as it went spiraling toward the ground. A few seconds later, the students were cheering wildly as Ginny Weasley scored the first goal of the game.

Cursing under his breath, he scanned the sky for signs of Malfoy and the Snitch. There was no indication that either Seeker had seen it yet. In fact, Malfoy wasn't even searching for the tiny golden ball; he was too involved with tailing Potter. Currently the pair were locked in an aerial shoving match, as Malfoy was trying to force Potter from his broom. Malfoy, you idiot! Just find the damn Snitch!

Goyle was finally blundering back up to the playing level after retrieving his bat, as Gryffindor scored again. Severus ground his teeth furiously as McGonagall turned to give him a wink. Thanks to some excellent maneuvering done by Higgs, Slytherin regained the Quaffle, and the sight of the opposing team bearing down on him unnerved Weasley enough that the red-haired oaf failed to cover the left goal in time. Higgs scored. The Slytherin version of 'Weasley is Our King' erupted from the green section of the stadium.

With their morale boosted and Weasley's faltering, the Slytherins dominated the scoring for the next several minutes, pulling ahead of Gryffindor eighty to thirty. Higgs shouted over his shoulder at Malfoy to search for the Snitch, but the pale-haired boy was still trying to unseat Potter.

Hooch's whistle sounded when Crabbe committed a foul against Bell. The seventh year scored a penalty shot. Severus saw that Callista was on her feet now, standing next to McGonagall as they applauded Bell's efforts. Urquhart gained possession of the Quaffle and was streaking toward the Gryffindor goals with the Weasley girl trying to close in on him. The Gryffindor beater sent a Bludger at Urquhart and missed.

The Bludger however went hurtling toward the two Seekers. The heavy black ball connected with Malfoy's thigh, causing him to collide with Potter. Both of them struggled to regain control of their brooms. Malfoy had no choice but to pull away and right himself. Potter sharply banked, barely avoiding the Bludger as it changed direction, and swerved to miss Robins. Urquhart scored, and Severus wished that he could hear and not just see the brutal telling-off that Weasley was receiving from his younger sister.

Ninety to forty. Now if Malfoy would just get his head out of Potter's ass long enough to find the Snitch, the Quidditch Cup will be Slytherin's again, Severus thought as he glanced around the playing area hoping to catch a flicker of gold. Instead, he could only impotently observe Malfoy returning to his pursuit. Bloody idiot!

Without warning, Potter broke into a steep dive. The crowd screamed as the Snitch was sighted near the ground. Malfoy swung wide and dove at a safer angle. He never saw the Bludger as it struck him from behind. He swerved as grabbed his lower back with one hand, turning to glare at the Gryffindor beater responsible for the hit. That was just the opportunity that Potter needed to reach out and grasp the shiny little orb, raising his hand in triumph as the thunderous applause exploded in the stadium. Creevey jubilantly announced the final score: Gryffindor, one hundred-ninety; Slytherin, ninety.

Severus glared at the tangle of scarlet that was now the Gryffindor team. He was getting ready to stand up when he saw Potter embrace the Weasley girl, kissing her firmly on the mouth. Seeing the pair of them sparked a memory from his seventh year that infuriated him even more than the loss of the Quidditch Cup.

"James Potter scores, and Royden Peaks has captured the Snitch! Slytherin, two hundred and fifty; Gryffindor, two hundred and sixty! Gryffindor wins!' shouted the announcer.

Severus and his house mates threw down their scarves in disgust. They had lost the first game of the season to Gryffindor. Ten points was such a close game and a painful margin to lose by. Severus felt a burning desire to curse that gloating idiot, James Potter, as he showed off on his broom.

'Now that's just disgusting!' protest Rosier, pointing to the Gryffindor section of the stands.

Severus looked and really had to restrain himself from casting a curse. James Potter was hovering in front of the stands, boldly kissing Lily Evans. Lily pulled back, clearly shocked, but looking far from angry at the display. Severus was horrified. He had spent all of last year trying to patch things up with her. He finally felt that he had a chance of winning her back, and now James effing Potter was kissing her in front of the entire school! He couldn't allow that pompous bastard to edge him out of her life like that.

'All right there, Snape?' Rosier asked, poking him sharply in the ribs...

"Severus?" Callista was looking up at him, her worried eyes automatically flicking to his left forearm.

He shot her a warning look that caused her to mask her concern. He shook McGonagall's hand, swiftly exiting the stadium to avoid seeing Gryffindor being awarded the Quidditch Cup.

Severus made his way to the castle in a flurry of black robes. Once there, he sequestered himself in his office until the evening meal. No one would give a second thought to him withdrawing to the relative privacy of the dungeons after a loss to Gryffindor. He took advantage of the solitude to work on some potions he had been experimenting with. His mind kept straying back to the sight of the messy-haired boy kissing a red-haired girl in front of the entire school. He was happy with Callista in his life! Why would seeing Potter kissing the Weasley girl have such an effect on him? He was over Lily, and he had been for many years. Hadn't he?

When the clock in his workroom chimed six, Severus knew he would need to return to the public area of the castle. Reluctantly he entered the Great Hall and took his usual place at the head table, making his way through his meal with a sullen frown on his face as the rest of the staff continued to discuss the match. Callista was sitting to his right, barely speaking to him. She continued to respect his prerogative to sulk, making no attempts to engage him in conversation. He caught himself focusing on Potter and the Weasley girl a few times too many. Why should he care about the juvenile romances of Gryffindor House?

"We still have a little wager to settle," she murmured softly, handing him the mashed potatoes when he requested them. "A consolation prize of sorts."

The crease in the middle of his forehead deepened. It was clear that she had no idea what he would have to deal with once his little snakes were confined to their common room. One thing that he had learned over the years of being Head of Slytherin House was that no matter how obnoxious his students could be when they won a match, they were even more prone to youthful stupidity when they lost. He would be spending most of the night making sure they stayed in the dungeon areas instead of seeking revenge on the Gryffindors.

"Unfortunately, we will need to discuss that at another time, Professor Hawkins. Most of my energies will be spent maintaining order in the dungeons," he said tightly.

Her eyes lit up, as she said jokingly, "You aren't going to try and back out of our agreement, are you, Severus?"

He glared at her before saying, "Absolutely not."

"Oh good. I would hate to think that you were that much of a sore loser." Callista tried to smother the smile that kept tugging at her lips.

"I am not being a sore loser," he protested through clenched teeth.

"Whatever you say, Severus," she said. "Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"That would be acceptable."

With a polite nod, Callista returned to her meal. Slowly his irritation over the loss of the Quidditch Cup began to fade. Even though he had lost the bet, a far better prize was waiting for him. He felt himself strain slightly against the front of his trousers as he thought about how Callista would decide to have him fulfill the terms of their wager. At least he still had that to look forward to. As he finished off the remains of meal, he wondered if it was too late to have the house-elves add a sleeping draught to the beverages on the Slytherin table