Arrivals and Introductions

A/N: It's my Big 4-0 on Monday, but you're getting a gift of new chapter.

This chapter is a little different because it's only from Callista's PoV. I honestly tried to fit more Severus in, but it came out all contrived and crappy so I changed it. Don't worry, he'll be back in the next chapter in all his billowy glory.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money. Shall we move on with the story, my darlings?

Chapter 10: Arrivals and Introductions

On the night of the students' arrival, Callista stood before her mirror, staring at the alien appearance, trying to decide if she liked what she saw. Carefully she smoothed the front of the deep purple robe. The simple cut was flattering, and contrary to her doubts, the fancy bronze stitching around the neckline and sleeves was subtle yet elegant. She adjusted the angle of the tall, pointed hat, complete with a cluster of jaunty pheasant feathers in the band. A sigh escaped her. There was a comfort in wearing tall, pointed hats and flowing robes again, but....

"I look like I'm going to a Halloween party," Callista mumbled to her reflection.

"I'm sure you look splendid; however, I would like to see for myself."

Callista started at the sound of a voice. Crossing to the sitting area by the window, she turned the miniature portrait of her father.

"Trick or treat," she said, her lips twitching into a smile.

Hawkins gave his daughter an appraising head-to-toe look before smiling. "You look beautiful, my dearest. Did you mother choose the color by any chance?"

"Thank you. Uh... yes, yes, she did," replied Callista, half-embarrassed to admit her mother had chosen most of her wardrobe. "I haven't worn purple in years."

"Really?" His bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It was the only color you'd wear from the time you were four until shortly before your seventh birthday. About drove your mother mad, too."

"Perhaps I got tired of it." Callista laughed briefly before suddenly becoming very sober. "The students arrive tonight. I'll be meeting with Harry after the start of term feast."

The painted face stared at her with a curiously longing expression. "Harry as in James Potter's son? The savior of the wizarding world?"

She nodded. "At least that's what the Daily Prophet has been calling him."

Her father was silent and thoughtful looking. "Would you mind putting my frame in your office for the meeting? I would like to see the boy."

"I don't suppose there would be any harm in that as long as you didn't talk to him." She picked up the portrait and moved it to the mantle in her office, positioning the frame so it offered a view of her desk. "How's that?"

"This should do just fine." Adolphus Hawkins looked around in satisfaction. "I promise to keep quiet during your little chat unless you speak to me first."

"I would appreciate that, Daddy," she said as the clock in the tower began to chime. "Time to go."

She headed toward the door and blew her father's portrait a kiss before departing. Halfway down the corridor, it dawned on her why her father had requested to be party to the meeting. Of course her father would want to see the son of his favorite trainee. He'd want to see the face of someone he had such high hopes for, or to see how son measured up to father. She shook her head. Such reasoning was surely beyond the capabilities of a mere portrait. More likely, it was the portrait projecting her father's nosiness.

In the entryway, the other teachers were gathering, and Callista discreetly joined their ranks. Professor Sinistra turned at the sound of someone behind her and gave Callista a reserved smile. The latter nodded stiffly in return. She vaguely remembered Sinistra from her school days and was fairly certain the Astronomy mistress had once been a Slytherin prefect. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Severus emerging from the dungeons, and her heart briefly picked up its pace.

Get a grip already, she order herself. He isn't likely to announce that he would prefer that I teach out in the dungeon corridor or some such nonsense.

"Welcome, my dear colleagues and friends!" Dumbledore greeted them with a twinkling enthusiasm. "I just received word that the students have arrived at the station and will be joining us within half of an hour. As always, Professor McGonagall will be in charge of the first-years and will see to the Sorting. I ask that you enjoy this evening and help make sure that no students are left roaming the corridors after the feast. And now, let us prepare to meet our students."

A feeling of excitement rose in her as Callista followed the rest of the staff into the Great Hall. At the door, the heel of her shoe awkwardly caught one of the floor seams, and she almost lost her balance. A hand grabbed her elbow and steadied her.

"Thank you. I..." She saw with surprise that it was Severus who had come to her aid.

"Try not to look so shocked," he said grimly.

For a moment, she thought there had been the briefest flicker of longing in his dark eyes. Callista realized she was holding her breath and carefully let it out.

"Oh, no," replied Callista, trying to keep her tone pleasant. "It's got nothing to do with you.... I mean, I don't often trip myself." Annoyed with her fumbling speech, she smiled politely. "Thank you, Severus."

He graced her with a curt nod and marched off to find a seat at the head table. Not wanting to be uncomfortable during the entire meal, Callista headed to the opposite side. An enormous chair occupied the very end of the table and was obviously reserved for Hagrid's use. She settled into a chair next to the wheezy Runes mistress.

"That's a very becoming color on you, my dear," said Professor Babbling in an attempt to start a conversation with Callista.

While the younger woman wasn't exactly thrilled to engage in small talk with the old lady, it would help time pass more quickly than sitting in silence. The conversation drifted from clothing to classes to Quidditch to Babbling's own years at school. Callista discovered the Runes mistress had gone to school with one of Callista's paternal grandmothers. Unfortunately, that led to some long-winded reminiscing, but Callista was content to let the stories become a pleasant background noise for her own memories.

An eleven-year-old Callista could feel her heart pounding with excitement as she waited for Professor McGonagall to call her name. She glanced over at Barty Jr. who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table and too engrossed in a conversation with his friends to notice her. Instead the girl let her eyes travel over the tables. Her brother waved at her from the Gryffindor table.

Callista pulled off the hat to applause and caught sight of her brother grinning at her from the Gryffindor table.

The wheezy voice tried to produce a girlish giggle. "Oh, yes, my dear, your gram and I managed to get into a goodly number of scrapes. I often wondered how we didn't get expelled!"

"I should say so," Callista said absently.

The conversation was ended by a rumble of voices that signaled the arrival of the students. As they took their seats at the long tables, Callista eagerly scanned the Gryffindor section for what she had been told would be a familiar face. Almost at the middle of the table she saw him. There was no mistaking that cow-licked thatch of black hair. He was talking with a lanky, red-headed boy and a girl whose untamed mane could best be described as a cloud of brown frizz.

"I gather you're looking for young Mr. Potter?" Babbling asked.

Callista nodded. "I found him. Do you know the two students he's talking to?"

Breaking into a smile, Babbling answered, "Oh yes. The boy is the youngest of the Weasley boys. Richard... no, no, Raymond... oh wait, Ronald. Sorry, I only had William and Percival in my Runes class, so I don't know much about the younger boys."

"I vaguely remember Bill, but I've seen the twins' shop on Diagon Alley." The younger woman chuckled at the memory of some of the wares. "Not that even a blind person could miss it."

The Runes mistress gave a weak laugh that dissolved into a cough. "Not likely at all! I purchased some things for my great-grand nieces and nephews."

"Who's the girl? A relation of Trelawney's?" Callista asked quickly before the old lady could launch into an endless stream of anecdotes about her young relatives.

"Goodness, no, Hermione Granger is a Muggle-born, and the top student in her class and quite possibly tops in the school."

Letting Professor Babbling rattle on about the many academic virtues of Miss Hermione Granger, Callista turned her attention back to Harry, wondering how their working relationship would be.

I'll find out shortly, she thought as the crowd of first years entered the Great Hall in Professor McGonagall's wake.

"Enter," Callista called when she heard the knock. The door swung open, and Harry stepped uncertainly into her office. She walked over, shook his hand, and introduced herself, smiling at the familiar shape and color of his eyes.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

For as much as he looked like his father, Callista was surprised that he sounded nothing like James. Lily's eyes, James' looks, but thankfully his voice is his own.

"Yes, I was afraid tomorrow would be too hectic. Please, have a seat. We need to discuss exactly what your duties will be." He opened his mouth to speak, but Callista halted him as they sat across the desk from each other. "I know Professor McGonagall has spoken with you and you're only helping with the fourth-year classes, but I wanted you to hear everything directly from me." Feeling that she may have sounded harsher than she had intended, Callista added, "It's more to avoid confusion than anything else."

"Oh." He was still wary but relaxed slightly.

"Harry, I've been in a different country for the last fifteen years. I don't know much about you or what's been going on other than what I've been told by the headmaster and Professor McGonagall or read in the paper, but the headmaster has pressed on me how vital it is for students to be able to protect themselves if need be."

The young man snorted. "It's about time the Ministry allowed Dumbledore to do what needed to be done."

Callista replied evenly, "I'm sure it's a relief to you to be taken seriously as well. What classes are you taking, Harry?"

"Er..." he mumbled as if taken by surprise by her question. "Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Potions."

She noted the expression on his face when he said the last class. "I've heard from Professor McGonagall you have an ambition to be an Auror?"

"Yes, Professor."

His face became a bit more animated, and she encouraged him to chat about his ambition and the reasons behind it for a few minutes. Their conversation branched into his DA efforts, and Callista, who had vague and unpleasant memories of Dolores Umbridge, found herself being a bit more understanding of last year's situation, if only from a student's perspective. But in the course of the discussion, she realized there was one serious matter that she needed to address before they had their first class with the fourth-year students.

"Since you aren't a stranger to teaching others spells, your duties will be easy. You will demonstrate the spells and their counters and circulate among the students correcting or praising as needed." She gave him a meaningful look. "That includes all students, Harry, even the Slytherins."

"But..."

She cut him off. "Not all of them are pure-bloods. There are a few half-bloods in that house; people with family members who are both sides of the conflict. By teaching them how to properly defend themselves, you're giving them choices."

"Yeah," he said, his dislike of Slytherins evident in his tone, "choices on the best curses to use when someone has their back turned."

"Or," began Callista, doing her best to keep her tone neutral but failing, "the choice to pick what's right over what's easy. You're giving them the ability to defend family members who may not be able to defend themselves. I know it's not easy to overcome prejudices, Harry, but if you don't at least make an effort to show fairness and encouragement to all of the students we work with, I will advise the headmaster that it would be better for me to manage on my own. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

He glared at her. "I get it."

"Good," she replied, willing to drop the matter for now. "Come see me when you receive your timetable, and we will work out a set time for us to meet and coordinate exactly how the lessons will be structured. I have a short break after the lunch period. Would that suit you?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

She nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow then. You may return to your common room."

He opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly closed it and turned to leave. Unexpectedly Harry paused at the door. "Can I ask you something, Professor?

"You may," she corrected.

Harry looked at her critically. "Were you a Slytherin?"

"No, I wasn't. What made you ask?"

He shrugged as if unable to find the words to properly ask the question.

"If it's just a case of curiosity, I was sorted into Gryffindor." She allowed herself to smile. "Not all pure-bloods end up in Slytherin, Harry."

The young man's jaw dropped. "Then you... you probably knew my mum and dad."

"I did," said Callista, keeping her tone guarded.

"And Sirius and Remus?" asked Harry eagerly.

"Of course," she said. "They were a few years ahead of me, I was a first-year when they were in their fifth, but, yes, I knew them well enough."

A strange expression crossed his face, making him look both angry and pained. "Did you know Snape?"

Now there's a loaded question if I ever heard one. She decided to answer it within the context of their conversation and hope he didn't pursue the topic. "Not really. We were in different years and different houses. I knew him by sight."

"What did..."

"It's getting late, Harry," interrupted Callista, glancing up at the clock on the mantle. The last thing she wanted to discuss was the past. "When we have time to talk"--and I have time to sort out what I feel comfortable telling you--"I'll be more than happy to tell you what I know about your parents and your godfather. But for now, we both need to get rested and ready for classes tomorrow. Just to be sure you don't run into trouble with Filch, I'll escort you to Gryffindor Tower."

The trip from her office to Gryffindor Tower had been spent mostly discussing Quidditch and Harry's captaincy. Callista was far from a fanatic about the sport, but it had been the safest topic she could think of. It also revealed a lot about her young assistant... some of it good and some of it not.

Her father was waiting for her to return, eager to discuss the meeting. The image complained, "For all the boy looks like his father, he certainly doesn't have James Potter's spirit!"

"Perhaps it was just nerves," Callista answered, pouring herself a glass of water but wishing for something a bit stronger. "I'm a complete unknown this year. After having Umbridge, I certainly don't blame his reserve."

Her father chuckled. "The look on your face when he thought you had been in Slytherin was priceless."

Callista rolled eyes. "I can only imagine the trouble I would have had with him if I had been! God in Heaven, he probably would have refused to work with me, and that would have been if I was exceedingly lucky."

"Doesn't seem like the boy has had much luck with Slytherins... teachers or students. He most assuredly doesn't like Snape."

Had to bring that up, didn't you? Callista thought. Instead she shrugged and kept her tone nonchalant. "Maybe it's just because of how things have gone in Potions class. No doubt Harry isn't thrilled at the prospect of having Severus for two classes this year, especially a class that's been one of his stronger points. According to Dumbledore, it's been a problem since the first Potions class. Students who wouldn't be considered up to scratch would have a hard time. Snape, from what I've heard, has a tendency to weed out weakness, and not just academic weakness," Callista slapped her forehead as two bits of information finally made sense. "That's probably why I'm stuck with teaching Potions basics to this Longbottom boy in Harry's year."

"Longbottom?" Painted bushy brows disappeared into a painted hairline. "So Frank and Alice's son wasn't a Squib after all. When do you get to meet him?"

"Not until after the first week of the term when I get my workroom set up unless I can put it off longer." Working with students in the classroom was one thing, but having someone impede her private research was another.

"Did you get evicted from the dungeons?" her father's portrait asked.

"No, but it's not large enough to accommodate the both of us. I can't work on the things I need to work on without someone hovering over my shoulder constantly, waiting for me to screw up. Dealt with that enough at the university, and I don't want to deal with it here."

Her father nodded. "Can't say that I blame you for that, Lissie."

A/N: As I believe I mentioned earlier in the story, Callista's father was an Auror by profession. He knew James and Sirius (as well as the Longbottoms) when they were going through Auror training. Before anyone starts having a canon-canary, yes, I know Rowling told us via interview canon Potter and Black lived off of inheritances, worked for the Order full-time, and blah, blah, blah. However, for purposes in the story, I had to give them logical (?) occupations. Anyway, James and Sirius haters may have rolled their eyes a time or two while reading this, but rolling the eyes actually strengthens ocular muscles and helps lessen eyestrain, so consider it a good thing.

If you have any questions, feel free to PM me or leave a review.