Smoke in Her Throat
Callista adjusted the collar of her coat as she walked beside Caleb through the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, the chill in the air was nothing compared to the ice coiled in her chest.
Caleb was talking–loud, charming, laughing at his own jokes–and she responded with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
She couldn’t hear a word. Not really.
Not over the pounding of her heart, the prickling feeling of being watched, hunted, seen.
Because he was here. She knew it.
She’d spotted him the moment they entered the village.
Severus.
Standing outside the coffee shop, black coat blending into the shadows, a paper cup clutched in one pale hand. His eyes had locked on her, jaw tight, expression unreadable.
She hadn’t looked away.
Instead, she’d smiled wider at Caleb. Let him tuck his arm around her waist. Let him lean in close, whispering something smug in her ear. Let him brush fingers along the inside of her wrist like it meant something.
It didn’t. None of it did.
But she couldn’t stop the way her skin prickled under Severus’ gaze, couldn’t stop the electric burn racing along her spine when she imagined what he was thinking.
Was he furious? Hurt? Did he even care?
“I’ve missed this,” Caleb said, interrupting her thoughts. “You and me. Like old times.”
Calli blinked, then laughed. “Yeah. Old times.”
He grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. She let him.
But in her mind, she was somewhere else.
With someone else.
Back in that dark corridor, his mouth against hers, his breath ragged, his voice trembling with restraint.
______________________________________________________________________________
The next Potions class was brutal.
She entered with her head high, determined to ignore the heat crawling up her neck as she passed Severus’ desk.
He didn’t look at her.
Not once.
Not even as she took her seat or set up her cauldron.
Good. Perfect. That’s exactly what she wanted.
Except it wasn’t.
Halfway through class, she caught him staring–just a flicker, a flash–and her heart stumbled. His eyes were dark, unreadable. Something cracked in her chest.
He called her name at the end of class.
“Miss Malfoy. A word.”
Her friends glanced at her, curious, but she waved them off and walked to his desk, pretending her legs weren’t trembling.
“Yes, Professor?” She asked, her voice sickly sweet.
He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her, the silence stretching long and unbearable.
“You’ll serve detention. Tonight.”
Her stomach dropped. “For what?”
“For letting your potion nearly explode. Twice. And for distracting Mr. Wood when he should have been focused on his work.”
Callista clenched her fists. “That’s not fair.”
His lips curled in a ghost of a smile. “Life rarely is.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.
“Eight o’clock. My office. Don’t be late.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, his robes billowing out behind him like a storm cloud.
She stood there, throat tight, breath catching.
Like smoke in her throat.