Shadow on My Heart

Chapter 30: I Will Remember

The following afternoon, a small group of students, mostly Slytherins, and staff members gathered in the cemetery at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The faces of the students were shocked and solemn. The staff members held themselves in stiff dignity. Since Severus had no family to claim his body, Dumbledore decided that he should be buried on the Hogwarts grounds. There were to be no long-winded, glowing eulogies, just a sparse memorial service for the caustic Potions professor. The ancient headmaster stood silently, regret etched in the deep lines of his face. A young woman leaned on his arm; tears were coursing freely down her cheeks. The deputy headmistress stood at her other side, squeezing the younger woman's hand in the deepest of sympathy. They had inadvertently sent Severus to his death. The very thought of that chilled the older woman to the core.

They deserved so much better out of this world. They deserved to have a life away from Hogwarts, children, a home. And it's our fault they didn't have any of it, McGonagall thought, as she wiped at the solitary tear that fell from her own eye. Well, not entirely; Peter Pettigrew was responsible for the injury that killed Severus. Callista keeps blaming herself, and she shouldn't. Poppy said there was nothing that could have been done.

Callista released Dumbledore's arm and tried to stand up straight, but she was shaking so badly that her legs threatened to give out on her. She felt as if she were being torn into tiny pieces. Forcing a facade of composure, she looked up and saw six members from the sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T. Potions classes, bearing the green-draped stretcher that carried their professor. The short procession stopped in front of the headmaster, gently lowering their burden. Callista squeezed McGonagall's hand, returning the gesture of consolation. She had strength enough to do this; she had no other alternative.

Dumbledore stepped forward and began the incantation: "Sileo pacis, vernula de Lux lucis. Eternus sileo exsisto tribuo ut vos. Vos es licentia ex gravis illae vita. Mai salus quod redemptio exsisto vestri remuneror. Exsisto procul pacis."

The assembled group was silent and respectful, several of them making a gesture of reverence at the end. Dumbledore raised his wand. "Incendio!"

There was a collective intake of breath as the draped figure burst into flames. Callista covered her face with her hands as McGonagall held her close, trying her best to console the younger woman. When the flames died, the remaining ashes swirled into a narrow whirlwind that was drawn into a hollow, gray pillar bearing Severus Snape's name and the dates of his birth and death. The worst was over, and now there was nothing left to do but pick up the pieces and move on.

Draco Malfoy stared in morbid fascination as Professor Hawkins lowered herself to the ground next to the pillar, one hand covering her face and the other tracing the letters of Professor Snape's name with a loving caress. It didn't take much thought to realize that there had been more between the two of them than a shared interest in potions. None of the other teachers were grieving so openly. Well, McGonagall was, but she had been his teacher and colleague. Hawkins, on the other hand, was acting like a distraught widow, and distraught widows often needed to be comforted. There was no telling what she would share once he convinced her that he was also devastated by the loss of Snape. Hawkins was young enough to be worth his while. He remembered that his father once, a few years ago back, had spoken of her in glowing terms. Although, Draco had to admit that the fact that Snape had more than likely shagged her was very off-putting--what had she seen in that foul, greasy git? But Hawkins could still be a wonderful source of amusement and information--information that would make him more important in the eyes of the Dark Lord. Any information he could coax out of her would give him a chance to prove that he was more than just Lucius Malfoy's spoiled little boy.

Later that afternoon, Callista sat in the headmaster's office, a strong pot of tea on the table between them. Dumbledore looked at her in concern; the stresses of the past twenty-four hours showed on her pale face. Today had been hard on all of them, but Callista had to shoulder the worst of it. What was still to come would be almost as difficult as what she had just been through. She was such a strong person, but even Dumbledore was concerned that this would be too much for her to bear.

"How are you holding up, my dear Callista?" he asked, affectionately gazing at his niece and reaching out to touch her hand.

Callista met his eyes for a brief moment before looking at their hands. She was worn-out--so tired of crying, so tired of being angry--and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep the rest of her life away. "That was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life, Uncle Albus. I just can't believe he's gone."

"I don't want to pry, but are you ready to tell me what was troubling you the other evening? I know that you and Severus had quarreled before you came to the office. What had happened?" His voice was loving and gentle.

"I thought that I might be pregnant. Don't worry; I'm not. Although, I wish I were." There were no tears--her eyes were dry--just a hard bitter lump in her throat.

"I see. Severus was not exactly happy about it, was he?"

"He was furious with me. And now..." There was no point in keeping the truth from him. Callista quietly told her uncle about the tiny, dark-haired boy who had died so many years ago. When she finished the account of the years when she had been missing, the old man was blinking back tears of his own.

"I'm sorry, Callista, so very sorry." Long, thin arms wrapped around her shoulders, comforting her. They sat in silence, mourning for things that should have been. Callista sat in her seat, struggling against her own grief.

"I've placed new wards on Severus's private rooms," Dumbledore informed her, adding, almost as an afterthought, "Are you ready to go down there now?"

She looked a bit uncertain, but nodded, rising to her feet. The students had left the school a little over an hour ago, a few days earlier than they normally would have. Dumbledore was hoping to minimize the amount of student gossip. They walked slowly through the silent halls of Hogwarts, their footsteps echoing eerily in the empty corridors. For the most part, they walked in silence. When they reached the Entrance Hall, Callista sighed.

"Are you all right, my dear girl?" Dumbledore asked.

She smiled sadly. "I was just remembering. Severus and I had a lot of firsts in this hall. The first time I ever laid eyes on him was here. I was late for a class my first year, and I ran straight into him. I think if he hadn't been with his 'friends,' he would have been a bit kinder. When I was a third year, Peeves made me drop my books, and Severus helped me pick them up. I'll never forget the look on his face when he saw that I had a copy of Advanced Potion Making. He seemed so impressed that I couldn't bring myself admit it was Lily's.

"Then in my seventh year, I was walking with Cera and Dana, it was near Christmas, when I caught him staring at me. I began wondering if he thought of me as more than a really exceptional Potions student. That was the first time I started seeing him as a person and not just as the grouchy young professor who loved to deduct points from Gryffindors." Her eyes began to fill slightly. "This year, after the students left for the Christmas holiday, I convinced him to go walking on the grounds with me. And after you forced us to talk to each other, it was a new beginning for us. We rediscovered our love for each other, we were rebuilding our lives, and things were finally the way they were supposed to be. We could have been so happy, and now..." Her eyes filled with angry tears. "Damn it! How could this happen?"

The old man slipped his arm around her shoulders, holding her closely. If only he could turn back time and make it so that none of this had ever happened. Once she had composed herself, they continued to the stairwell leading to the dungeons. The dank dungeon corridor had an unmistakable feeling of sorrow about it. The powerfully magical aura that had been Severus Snape still lingered, but it had been reduced to something insubstantial -- like mist after a rainstorm.

Dumbledore and Callista paused outside of the door to the Potions classroom. The heavy oak door creaked as it opened. They passed through, breathing in the combined smell of sulfur, parchment and bayberry. The door to the office was easily opened with the correct password and incantation. His desk was just as he had left it -- stacks of exam papers and essays in neat piles, all marked and ready to return to the students. Nothing was out of place.

Dumbledore lowered the wards between the outer office and the private workroom. The workroom was uncharacteristically devoid of all activity. There were no potions in the cauldrons. The remains of some roughly chopped damiana root were sitting on a cutting board, brown and dried and useless. Winky the house-elf was in the room, sweeping the hearth. She dropped her broom at the sight of them, bowing low. "Headmaster Dumbledore, Mistress Callista! Winky is wondering when you would come. Winky is done all things that Headmaster is asking Winky to do."

"What is she talking about?" Callista asked.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement demanded that they be allowed to search his quarters, Callista, but before they did, I had Winky and several other house-elves remove certain items--some of his books, a few potions and all of your personal items-- from his private living space. However, his experiment journals could not be found."

"Those are in the lab near my office," Callista replied absently. The potion was a failure; she had no desire to continue working on it without Severus.

"So those are safe after all." Relief was evident in his voice. "I want you to make sure that none of his personal items are missing."

The last door was the entrance to Severus's private quarters. Callista closed her eyes as the old man deactivated the final set of wards. With a series of clicks, the multiple locks and charms released the door, and it swung open. Squaring her shoulders and following the headmaster, Callista stepped quietly into the private room of the Head of Slytherin House. The familiar surroundings were blurred by the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Memories of caresses and embraces, hopes, dreams and fears flooded over her. Why was she torturing herself like this? She didn't want any of his possessions. The only thing she had wanted from him was a child, and she now would never have that.

"I think you will find that you and Severus may still have a future," Dumbledore whispered, indicating the green-draped bed on the far side of the room. Callista, frozen in stunned silence, was unable to believe her eyes.

"Severus? Oh my God!" she cried, closing the distance between the door and the bed. Tears filled her eyes as she took in the sight of the thin, frail-looking figure on the bed. She fell to her knees beside the bed, repeating his name over and over. Callista touched the side of his face, reassuring herself that what she was seeing was indeed real. His left forearm was heavily bandaged, and there were a few healed-over injuries on his face and defensive wounds on his hands. The only color on his face was caused by the fever that was threatening to consume him. She pushed the sweat-dampened strands of hair off of his forehead, causing him to mutter incoherently for a moment. She choked out one word: "How?"

Dumbledore placed his hand on her shoulder. "Poppy is not certain how, but it seems that your potion is a success after all. When I came down to place new wards on his quarters, I discovered--"

Unexpectedly, Callista lashed out at him as she leapt to her feet, her voice a strangled whisper. "No! How could you? How could you have kept this from me? Do you have any idea what I've been through?"

Dumbledore held her off as she attempted to pummel him with her fists, struggling with her until she collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her shaking form, trying to soothe her. "I had no choice. He is much safer if the wizarding world believes him to be dead. Your grief had to be genuine, Callista. I could not risk it."

"What do you mean you had no choice? I am so sick of your games," Callista snapped, breaking away from him and sitting carefully on the bed as she surveyed Severus's injuries. Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to her. "Are you worried that Voldemort will come looking for him?"

"That still remains to be seen. Since I am not certain of the events prior to Severus's return, hiding him from Voldemort is only part of the reason for this ruse," the old man said heavily. "When I told the Aurors that his wand had not be found, I lied. Indeed, what the wand revealed is one of the reasons that the truth needs to be kept hidden." He saw a look of confusion spread across her face. "I wanted to know what had happened to Severus, so I performed Prior Incantato to ascertain which spells he had cast before his return." The old man took a deep breath. "Callista, there was evidence of two Unforgivable Curses on his wand. One was the Cruciatus Curse that he had used on Lupin, and the other was the Killing Curse. Who it had been used on, and the circumstances under which it had been used are uncertain, but the fact remains that they were cast using his wand. The Aurors--"

Callista's eyes widened as the reality sunk in. "In order to follow protocol, the Aurors would have done the same thing as part of their investigation--if they had found the wand. If they had known that Severus was alive, he would have been sent to Azkaban."

"Which is why I couldn't tell you he was alive until after the Aurors had completed their investigation, and why his wand will remain safely in my possession until he has a need for it."

The young witch closed her eyes as she absorbed this recent turn of events. It was all so tangled and complicated. She paid no attention to her uncle until he placed his hand on her arm.

"Callista, Severus was once very much one of Voldemort's followers, and there are still many within the Ministry--people who are not convinced that his conversion was unfeigned--who feel that he belongs in Azkaban for those crimes committed in his youth. This is meant to protect him from those individuals as well as from Voldemort." The old man pressed on. "Up to now, there has been no reason to investigate him, but the Auror may have overheard Remus saying that he had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. That alone would be enough to justify taking Severus to Azkaban. He would have died there for certain. I also do not trust too many of the Ministry's employees. I still feel that there are some who are loyal to Voldemort, or at least under his control. The Auror who was here, Carrington--his father was very much interested in the changes Voldemort supported. I fear his son has followed in his father's footsteps, or he has inherited his father's debt to Voldemort."

"But his Mark has been obliterated, surely Voldemort can't find Severus without it." Callista turned back to the man on the bed; Severus was so vulnerable. The memory of the wound on his arm caused her stomach to tighten. She noticed the numerous thin scratches on his chest and upper arms. What had happened to him?

Dumbledore's voice was soothing. "It is my sincerest hope that you are correct. However, many things will be unclear until he regains consciousness."

"Such as?"

"Is Peter Pettigrew dead or alive? How much protection he needs from Voldemort depends upon that fact."

The last part worried Callista more than she cared to admit. "Without his Dark Mark, there is nothing left to connect him to his Death Eater past. Have you told anyone he's still alive?"

"I will tell Minerva as soon as I am certain the Aurors are finished questioning the staff. My greatest concern is Poppy; I may need to modify her memory. They had interrogated her before we realized he was still alive, but there is a slight possibility they may have further questions for her."

"Do you think they will question Neville any further?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly. "It's highly unlikely that they would. Severus was almost unconscious by the time Mr. Longbottom arrived. They have taken his statement; there is no reason to question him again."

Callista said nothing, and the old man allowed her to tend to her lover in peace. Dumbledore sat down in the leather armchair, staring at the fire. How would the Order manage without the information that Severus had always been able to gather? He had come to depend on Severus, not only for the intelligence on Voldemort, but also for an objective opinion on how to handle some of the situations that had arisen regarding strategy.

It was too harsh to say to her now, but Dumbledore knew that he needed to prepare Callista for the possibility that they might need to send Severus back to Voldemort. Fabricated memories could be implanted while Severus was sedated. Dumbledore had been manufacturing a possible scenario since he had learned that Severus had used the Killing Curse. Any inconsistencies could be attributed to the effects of the potent pain-killing potions he was being given. He just needed for the younger wizard to be coherent enough to confirm that Peter Pettigrew was indeed dead--if Severus even knew for certain. As unlikely as the prospect was, there was always the slimmest chance that it could be a viable option, providing Severus was willing to do so. If that was the case, then the most difficult part would be convincing Callista.

"Callista, I have one last request of you--if you think you can," he said softly. Callista looked up, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "I need you to come with me to an Order meeting tonight. Madam Pomfrey will stay with Severus."

"I don't want anything more to do with the Order--as if any of them ever gave a damn about Severus." She turned to him, her eyes blazing. "I just buried the greatest love of my life. Sorry if I don't feel like being social."

She refocused her attention on Severus, continuing to bathe his neck and chest. They had lost so much, but now there was a chance for them to regain at least part of their lives. Everyone thought he was dead, making him useless to the Order as a spy. Voldemort would know from the children of his Death Eaters that the body had been cremated before their own eyes.

"Who or what did we bury today?" she asked suddenly.

"Callista, there are things I would rather not burden you with," he replied cryptically.

No, I'm sure I really don't want to know, Callista thought, as she dried her hands on a towel.

"Minerva and I will be leaving at a few minutes before eight; meet us in my office if you decide to come." The ancient man placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Poppy will be down in a few hours to check on him. Stay with him and rest if you can. You will need all of your strength for the days ahead. I'll see myself out."

Callista nodded at his retreating back, exhaustion showing on her face. Taking great care not to move his injured arm too much, she lay down on the bed beside him. Callista stretched out on her side, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his breathing and the steady tempo of his heart.

Now that they were alone, she allowed the remains of her strength to shatter. Quietly, she cried for the pain that he had suffered, most of it needless. Callista knew that she couldn't have prevented any of it, but it tore at her soul nonetheless. She knew in her heart that no matter what she had said to him, he would have tried to free Remus. Not because he truly cared about the werewolf, but out of a sense of obligation, because Remus had saved her life.

Severus stirred in his uneasy, potion-induced sleep, whimpering as if he were a young child caught in the grip of a terrifying nightmare. As he rolled his head from side to side, Callista tried to imagine what horrible memories were plaguing him. Perhaps there were some things she was better off never knowing. She kissed him with a soothing gentleness, hoping that if he realized that she was with him, he would be able to rest. She moved as close to him as she could. What horrors had he suffered at Voldemort's hand?

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Callista awoke with a start; someone was gently shaking her shoulder. She looked up to see Madam Pomfrey's concerned face. The younger woman sat up quickly, turning to the man beside her. "Is Severus... ?"

"He's fine, my dear. I've just come down to check on him and change the dressings on his arm." She handed Callista a glass of water. "While I'm doing that, I want you to go up to the Great Hall, or at least to your rooms, and get something to eat. It's nearly seven o'clock in the evening."

"No, I'll stay and help. I want to," she asserted stubbornly

"You need to eat something, and I don't recommend doing that while I'm changing these bandages. You'll do Severus no good if you become ill."

"Really, I feel much better." Callista winced at the sudden pain in her lower abdomen.

"Callista?"

"It's nothing, just cramps." She mumbled the last word, dragging herself off of the bed.

"I see. Stress seems to make it all that much worse. I have several different potions up in the infirmary if you need any relief." The school nurse began unpacking her bag. After she was finished, she looked sadly over at the younger woman, saying, "Dumbledore told me that you had thought there was a possibility that you might have been pregnant. I'm sorry. You must be horribly disappointed. Of course, all of the stress you have been under would not have been good for you at all. If he-- " She caught herself. "When he recovers, there might be a child in your future after all."

"I highly doubt that Severus will allow it; he wasn't exactly pleased when I told him." Callista smoothed her rumpled clothing and moved to help Madam Pomfrey.

"I've known Severus Snape since he was eleven years old--patched him up many times--I don't think there have been too many things that have pleased him, besides you," the older woman said with a kind smile. "Fatherhood is a frightening prospect for men in general, but for someone like Severus, who lives so precariously, it must be overwhelming. He's been alone for so long, and the only back he has ever been concerned about watching has been his own. He's just not accustomed to being responsible for anyone. Perhaps he was just afraid, and he didn't want to admit it."

That sounds more than possible, Callista thought. And now I need to watch his back for him.

"Are you positive that you want to help me with this?" Madam Pomfrey asked, looking at her with concern.

Callista nodded, and the nurse began carefully removing the bandages from his arm. In spite of her care and the pain-killing potions, Severus cried out when his arm was moved. Callista sat on the bed near his head, running her fingers over his face, speaking to him in a comforting voice. She glanced over just as Poppy was removing the last of the bandages. The wound was rather gruesome, long and fairly deep. Blood started seeping from the injured tissues as soon as the bandage was taken away. Callista felt her stomach heave slightly at the sight of it, but she could see that the Dark Mark was clearly gone. She squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed hard in an attempt to get her (thankfully empty) stomach under control. A harsh, foul smell assaulted her nose, making her gag.

"Dear God, what is that?" Callista asked, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Severus mumbled as Madam Pomfrey applied a thick green ointment to the deep wound. "This is the same preparation that's used on werewolf bites. It keeps infections from starting in cursed wounds until they can be closed. If they can be closed, that is."

"I can't believe he's still alive."

"By rights he shouldn't be," Poppy said soberly. "Don't go deluding yourself; he isn't out of danger yet. If I can't find a way to get this wound to heal, he will need to be seen by a specialist, but I don't know whom we can trust enough to bring in."

Her forehead creased. "Give me something to do, please. I feel foolish just sitting here."

"I'm almost finished with this; you may put the bandages on." She directed the younger woman as Callista wrapped the bindings around the injured limb. Severus whimpered each time they moved his arm. "Now, doses of potion to replenish the blood and another to ease the pain and fever."

"He's had nightmares," Callista whispered, smoothing oily strands of hair off of Severus's face. "I'm worried about what's going on inside his mind."

"I shouldn't wonder that he would have them. The things he has seen and... done... " Poppy trailed off, glancing at the younger witch. "I'm sorry. That was very insensitive of me to bring up such things."

"My father was an Auror; I have an idea of what a Death Eater is capable of. Still," she said, looking down at the harshly-lined face, "it's hard to believe that he was one of them, that he fully embraced such a twisted way of thinking."

"What's done is done. He can't change the past, and neither can you." Madam Pomfrey patted her arm. "All you can do is help him have a fresh start."

"If he will accept it," Callista whispered, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the forehead. In order to ensure his fresh start, everyone had to believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was truly dead. Her uncle was right: her presence at tonight's meeting was crucial to sustaining the deception. She was the one who would be most affected by Severus's death, and she would have sought the support of friends in a time like this. Like it or not, she had to go. Callista drew a deep breath. "I need to go and change out of my dress robes before the Order meeting. Will you stay with him?"

"Of course I will. That little house-elf will help me change the sheets, and I'll make sure that he's as comfortable as possible." She eyed the young woman critically. "And you need to make sure that you eat something."

Callista nodded and Flooed to her quarters, dreading what was to come but understanding the necessity of it all. She changed into her normal attire and brushed her hair. Closing her eyes, she remembered when she was living in her flat in London, how Severus would often brush the shining length of her hair. Only a few nights ago, he had done just that. Sitting behind her on the bed, he had taken her hair in his hands and had run the brush through it over and over until her hair was a shimmering, soft mass of bronze waves. Once he was finished, he had made love to her. She remembered the feel of him inside her, the weight of him on top of her, his mouth devouring hers...

"Stop it!" she whispered at her reflection. "No one can know the truth. Besides, there is still a chance I can lose him all over again."

Focusing on that fear, she began implementing the long-disused Occlumency skills Severus had taught her. She focused on the panic she had felt when he had stopped responding to her voice... the grayish color of his face when Neville had forced the potion down his throat... the horrible shuddering sound of his last breath... The hairbrush fell from her nerveless fingers, and she let herself sink into the despair that she had felt when Madam Pomfrey had taken her to see him one last time. He had been laid out on one of the tables in the back of the infirmary. His skin had been as cold as the icy feeling of hopelessness that had encompassed her heart. He was gone... Now, she imprinted on her mind, she would never work side-by-side with him on anything, never hear his voice, never see that wicked glint in his eyes when he knew he was about to win an argument, and worst of all, she would never feel his touch again. Sobs shook her body, and when they finally abated, she looked in the mirror at her red-rimmed eyes, satisfied that they belied nothing.

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Later that night Callista, Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived by Portkey in the hallway of the headquarters in London. Callista was pale and shaky, which caused McGonagall to worry about her. Yet the younger witch had insisted that she wanted to be there to toast Severus's memory with the rest of the Order. The old woman squeezed her hand.

"How are you holding up, Callista?" McGonagall asked briskly.

"As well as can be expected. I just keep waiting for him to walk through the door, robes billowing behind him." She gave them a watery smile.

Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "Callista, it's only fair that you know that the Order has been informed of your involvement with Severus. After your actions at his funeral, there was no point in keeping it a secret. The students were speculating before they were even on the train home."

"Thank you for sparing me a lot of awkward explaining." She would blow up at him later if she needed to... if it was even worth the energy.

"Shall we proceed downstairs, ladies?" Dumbledore asked, ushering them toward the door that led to the kitchen.

As the three of them made their way downstairs, the subdued voices of the Order members drifted up to their ears. Once the members saw them, all conversation came to a halt. Hestia Jones patted Callista on the arm when she passed. Moody nodded at her. Arthur and Molly Weasley silently watched her from a distance. Mundungus Fletcher stopped ogling a set of silver spoons to wave to her. Emmaline Vance and Sturgis Podmore looked at her with odd expressions of sympathy mixed with disgust. Callista kept her head held high, not caring what they thought of her.

Remus Lupin walked over to her with a pronounced limp and took her in his arms, whispering, "I'm so very sorry, Callista. So very sorry. I wanted to be at the funeral, but Dumbledore thought it would look suspicious to have me there."

Tonks, her hair a slightly more somber shade of dark blue, took her turn offering her condolences. Breaking off the crushing hug, her eyes sparkling with tears, she whispered, "I have no idea what to say. I didn't know about the two of you, but I am so sorry. Remus and I owe you."

"Thank you, Tonks. I'm just thankful Remus is safe." Callista felt her eyes filling, and she had no desire to cry in front of the Order. "I... I think the meeting is about to start."

Callista slid into her customary spot along the table, barely noticing George Weasley as he took the seat beside hers. Molly, in her role as hostess, walked up and down the seated group, distributing goblets to the Order members. Callista nodded vaguely as someone filled her cup. She was anxious for this to be over with.

Dumbledore stood at the head of the table, his blue eyes devoid of their familiar twinkle. "Tonight we gather to bid farewell to one of our members. A man who gave his life to save one of our own. Severus Snape was vital to our operations. Few of you knew the extent of his contributions to our cause. Even fewer of you would have considered him a friend." At this Moody turned a snort into a cough. Dumbledore continued without acknowledging the ex-Auror. "Without Severus, we would never have received much of the information that has kept our losses at a minimum. Without him, we would not have had any insight into Voldemort's plans. Until recently, he went through this world essentially alone, constantly at odds with others for choices he had made in his past--choices he deeply regretted. He changed sides at great personal risk, showing an enormous measure of courage." Callista could feel her eyes beginning to burn once again and felt the comforting weight of George's hand on her back. "To Severus Snape, may he find the peace in the next life that was denied him in this one."

She watched her uncle raise his cup respectfully. All around her, everyone--some reluctantly, some grudgingly and some sincerely--raised their drinks to toast the fallen Order member. There was a prolonged moment of silence that Callista found to be nearly unbearable. She became aware that she was being observed by those around her, and that she was crying once again. Fumbling in her pocket, Callista drew out a handkerchief and carefully wiped her eyes. Then it was on to business as usual.

"Now that our link to Voldemort's plans is gone, we need to be more cautious than ever..." Callista stopped paying attention at this point. As the meeting droned on, she kept trying to think of an excuse to leave before it was over. Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts. "...Callista?"

She started. "I'm sorry, sir; my mind wandered."

"Perfectly understandable given the circumstances. I was asking you if you would consider teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of Potions next year."

"Albus, after what happened to Severus, how can you even think about allowing her to take the Defense post?" McGonagall asked indignantly.

"I... I'm not sure if I will be returning next year, sir. I need some time to think about it," Callista said softly. In all truth, she had no intention of returning next year, but an Order meeting didn't seem like an appropriate place to make such a definite statement. "In fact, I plan on returning to the States as soon as possible. I have business I need to take care of there. I'll be gone the entire summer... if I return at all."

"Very well, but I will need your decision by the beginning of August."

Arthur looked at Dumbledore, a distressed look overtaking the tired one. "Dumbledore, how will you be able to fill both the Potions and the Defense posts if Callista doesn't return?"

"Alastor," the ancient headmaster said, turning to the ex-Auror, "since you never actually did any teaching, would you be interested in the position?"

"Only if you can't find anyone else," Moody said testily.

They continued discussing reports from various other members. Callista sat twisting the wadded handkerchief in her hands, trying to force herself into a calmer state. As soon as the meeting was over, she would leave. Once again she felt the warm, consoling weight on her back. She looked over to see George Weasley looking at her; his normally sparkling eyes were somber--not a natural look for him at all. She returned his gaze, feeling absolutely horrible for not being more forthright with him; the last thing she had wanted to do was hurt his feelings. He was a sweet young man, in an exasperating kind of way, and someday he would make some very lucky young witch very happy. But she was definitely not that witch.

The sudden scraping of chairs startled her out of her maudlin thoughts. The meeting was mercifully over. Callista rose to leave, but George stopped her, asking, "Have a minute?"

Callista nodded, noticing that Molly Weasley was watching them, but for once she didn't try to intervene. George led her to a remote corner of the kitchen. "This probably isn't my business, but is it true about you and Snape? That you two were... together?"

She avoided his eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry; I should have been honest with you from the start, but..."

"You couldn't." There was no accusation in his voice, no sense of betrayal. His familiar grin brightened his face. "I reckon that would have blown his cover, if you two would have been seen at Madam Puddifoot's together." His grin melted suddenly. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be disrespectful or anything... "

"I... It's all right."

"I didn't like Snape much," George admitted. "But I respected his knowledge of potions. Fred and I owe half of our line to him--not to mention our Portable Swamp. He always seemed to know what Fred and I were up to, and he taught stuff that gave us some really good ideas on how to work out some of the kinks." There was an awkward pause. "How did you two meet?"

"He started teaching my seventh year."

"Big mistake on Dumbledore's part," Moody broke in, as he stumped over to them, his magical blue eye spinning wildly in its socket.

Callista squared her shoulders and answered without turning around. "I don't recall asking you to join this conversation, Alastor."

"I just want everyone to keep this in perspective. Snape was no saint. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

"Bugger off, Moody," Tonks said angrily, coming to Callista's aid.

Remus was there to back her up as well. "Severus and I were hardly friends, but he saved my life."

"After he used the Cruciatus Curse on you. You know as well as anyone that those curses won't work unless you want them to, unless you mean them. He had every intention of puttin' you in pain, Lupin. Make no mistake about that."

There was a general outcry at this. Apparently the specifics of Lupin's rescue were not known to the rest of the Order members. Dumbledore stepped over to them, looking tall and terrible. "Alastor--"

Remus held his ground. "That doesn't negate the fact that he still saved my life. He could have just as easily left me for dead."

"Honestly, Alastor," Molly broke in, bustling over to them, wooden spoon in hand. "This is hard on all of us, but especially on Callista. Have a little respect."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you, Molly Weasley," Hestia Jones broke in. "Weren't you just agreeing earlier with Alastor that you thought Snape was taking information about Harry straight back to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? How very proper of you to be supportive now that Callista's actually here."

Molly flushed, retorting, "At least I made an attempt to be sensitive and respectful! You, Sturgis and Emmaline, were rolling your eyes during the toast." The red-haired woman turned to the grubby, snickering man who was stuffing his pockets with rolls, threatening to whack him with the utensil. "And you, Mundungus Fletcher, only showed up for the food!"

It had never fully sunk into Callista's mind how little Severus had been trusted by the Order. The same people who had toasted him as a comrade were now turning on him. Callista couldn't believe what she was hearing and seeing.

"Stop it all of you!" she shouted, before rounding on the old Auror. "Alastor, isn't it enough that Severus is dead? Do you really have to drag his name through the mud as well?" Callista was shaking from head to toe. "You keep going on how you care so much about me, but you're no different from my father. I'm only wonderful as long as I'm doing exactly what you want! None of you gave a damn about him. It makes me sick to even think about this farce of a memorial you muddled through. I want nothing more to do with any of this."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, her breath catching in her throat. Stumbling up the steps, Callista leaned against the wall, sobs tearing once again at her throat. She would leave as soon as possible and never return.

A gentle hand was on her shoulder. Callista opened her eyes to see McGonagall standing at her side. "If it makes you feel any better, Albus is giving Alastor, and everyone else for that matter, a very unpleasant lesson on proper mourning etiquette. They had no right to say anything like that in front of you."

"I should have expected it."

"So few people trusted Severus, but no one ever dared to speak against him to his face. But their insensitivity towards you is wholly appalling. I'll admit it took me a very long time to put any faith in Severus, but after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned, I never once doubted his courage." She gave the younger witch's shoulder a squeeze. "Are you ready to return to the castle?"

Callista nodded. "I don't trust myself to Apparate that far."

McGonagall opened the door and escorted her outside. "I understand. The last thing you need is to splinch yourself. Take my elbow, and I'll guide you."

With a loud pop the pair disappeared into the warm summer's night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Callista stepped out of the fireplace into the room, her eyes immediately going to the bed. To her relief, he was soundly asleep--very soundly asleep: she could hear him snoring. She crossed the room and sat on the bed next to him. His face was still flushed and sweaty, but at least he wasn't muttering incoherently in his stupor. He turned his head to the side, and the noise quieted.

Poppy walked in from the door leading to the bathroom. "I thought I heard you come in."

"How is he?"

"He's resting as comfortably as possible. I finally found something that was effective in reducing his fever. I gave him a dose of Dreamless Sleep to prevent the nightmares." She looked Callista up and down. "Have you eaten yet? No? I'll have Winky bring you a tray."

"Thank you."

"After everything you've been through, it's the very least I can do." The nurse's tired eyes drifted over the figure on the bed before turning to the young woman sitting there. "Your friend, the house-elf, brought some of your things down for you. Make sure you eat and get some rest. I'll pop in a few times tonight to check on him. Call me if you need anything."

Callista nodded, and in a flash of green flame she and Severus were alone. Unable to fight off her fatigue any longer, Callista changed into her soft nightclothes and slipped into her side of the bed. As she rested her hand on his chest, Severus sighed and resumed his snoring. How many times had she elbowed him in hopes that he would roll over and stop the racket? Tonight, however, the sound was precious to her ears, since she had been convinced that she would never hear it again. She kissed his lips and had the fleeting sensation that he had returned it. Unlikely as it was, the thought comforted her, and Callista settled down beside him, thankful that they had been given yet another chance.

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