Authors Note: This is a little Christmas present for those out there who are reading. Merry Christmas!
Disclaimer: The story belongs to Dickens, the characters to JK Rowling. I claim neither.

A Hogwarts Christmas Carol
in Prose
Being a Ghost Story of Christmas

Chapter One: Regulus' Ghost

There was no doubt to anyone that Regulus Black was dead. Dead and buried. Snape had placed the last nail into the lid of his coffin himself before standing solemnly at the grave-side, the only mourner.

There was no question as to whether Snape knew he was dead, of course he did. They had been partners for many years before his untimely death. He was the sole friend, and sole mourner – Regulus having disgraced his family upon his death.

Despite his apparent love for his partner Snape showed little sorrow during the funeral, he was a man who believed public displays of emotion were beneath him. Even in his private affairs he remained as cold and calculating as ever.

There was no doubt that Regulus was dead. There must be no doubt in your minds, just as there was no doubt in Snape's, that Regulus was dead and had been for almost twelve years. If you understand one thing tonight, it is this; otherwise nothing wonderful can come from this tale.

Snape was a hard man with what could be said to be a cold heart. He had his secrets, his self-contained thoughts which you did not think to question him on for fear of his wrath. Pity the poor student who thought to intrude upon his solitude with a trivial question, everyone knew to leave Professor Snape well alone.

He was a cold harsh man, not even the beautiful twinkling of a log fire could warm his soul, the wintry weather had little effect on him for I doubt he could freeze any further.

No one dared, student or professor, to stop him in the corridor to wish him a hearty 'Good morning!' even the ghosts knew to leave this volcano of a man well alone. No one Professor asked him to join them in their study for a quick sniffer of brandy before the day began and in this matter he was quite content. He basked in his solitude and misery, there was little humanity had to offer him all he needed were his spell books and potions. What else could a man wish for?

Snape despised Christmas, he hated the coloured babbles, the trees, the food but most of all he hated the sickly smiles of those around him who dared to wish him a 'Merry Christmas'. Anyone who did dare was met with a harsh glare, in any other circumstance he would have said 'Bah, humbug.' but that was taken. There was something else that he despised more than Christmas, and that was Gilderoy Lockhart the insufferable busy body who could not stand to see anyone miserable at this great time of year.

This year the weather was particularly bleak and foggy, driving the students of Hogwarts back into the castle seeking warmth and company. The great clock chimed the hour, it had just gone three and yet the darkness outside had not lifted. Whilst the rest of the castle huddled around great blazing fires and lit hundreds upon hundred of candles in an attempt to drive away the shadows, Snape sat alone in his dark office. The fire was low, barely giving off enough heat to warm the spiders and it was from this light that Snape was working.

The door to his office was open, as if to admit more darkness and cold into the already terrifying room. The shadows from the various things in jars danced wildly around the walls as if part of some terrible dance.

"A Merry Christmas, Severus!" Came a cheery voice. It was the voice of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had entered the office uninvited and unwanted.

Snape stared at the somewhat flamboyant Professor who had bounced into his sanctuary. Lockhart was honouring the occasion of the Lord's birth by wearing robes of a brilliant scarlet, decorated with a green fur trim. Enough to make the hardiest man ill.

"Piss off." Snape spat.

Lockhart had recently been walking in the cold mists that currently surrounded the castle and so his bright handsome cheeks were ruddy, his forget-me-not blue eyes sparkled in the fire-light.

"Oh come on, you don't mean that!"

"I do."

"I could lend you a copy of my autobiography, 'Magical Me', it's been known to cheer many a person up."

"Piss. Off." Snape repeated slowly.

"Oh don't be such a misery guts." Lockhart retorted.

Snape snorted, "what else can I be, when insufferable fools barge into my office with things like 'Merry Christmas' upon their lips! This is a time like any other, we're a year older and a year poorer as the result. If I could enchant every idiot who goes about wishing people a 'Merry Christmas' so that they are instantly boiled down, cooked with their own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through their heart, then believe me, I would!"

Lockhart took a nervous step back. "Severus..."

"You keep Christmas how you like it, and I shall keep it how I like it."

"There's no need to be harsh, I only came to bring you a message. Minerva said you're invited to the staff Christmas party...as usual."

"I shall give you my usual answer, over my dead body. Now get out, I'm busy."

Outside the weather turned and grew darker, Hagrid's hut obscured by the thick winding fog was no longer visible from the small window in Snape's office. The cold intensified.

"God bless the merry Hippogriff!
May nothing you dismay!"

Peeves sang loudly as he darted into the dark office, Snape snarled and pointed his wand at the offending poltergeist. Peeves gestured rudely before throwing himself up the chimney, still singing.

Soon the clock chimed the hour and he conceded that perhaps it was time for bed. Grumpily he raised himself from his chair and pulled on his dress coat, he could finish his work tonight but he had so much to accomplish; if he did not retire to bed he would be good for nothing in the morning and that would not do. He walked out of his office with a low growl, turning to charm the locks upon the door.

Before retiring to his bed chamber he made his way down to the kitchens. He had forgone joining the rest of the school with their feast but still felt the familiar pangs of hunger.

The kitchens were insufferably merry, the House Elves had clearly made a great effort to join in with the season. He ignored the painful sight of the overly garish Christmas decorations and beckoned to the nearest House Elf. The Elf immediately prepared him a cold supper with a little bit of cheese, and this is what he took back to his private rooms.

There was nothing particular about the door to his private rooms, it was your standard dark oak door, adored with a small brass plate which denoted the name of the current occupant. The only subtle difference was carved face which the previous occupier had carved; it had been so ill done and so long ago that no one knew what the carving feature. Snape had seen this every night for the past few years, but this night was different. Everyone knew him not to be a fanciful man, anyone in the castle could tell you so from the lowliest House Elf to the most regal spectre. Snape had not thought of Regulus since that ill fated day twelve years ago this night when he had breathed his last. And yet, as he moved to open the door saw the carving change in Regulus' face.

Regulus' face. It was not a shadow for it held a dismal light about it. Regulus' eyes were wide open almost emulating the moment his life had ended, the eyes themselves were perfectly still. The whole image was horrible, the face twisting in agony and a silent scream.

As Snape glared at the carving, the vision passed and Regulus' face was there no more. Very little unnerved him and yet as he reached for the door handle he found that his hand shook. He breathed deeply to steady the harsh pounding beneath his ribs and slammed the door behind him.

His chambers were dark, but Snape did not care he preferred the dark and took comfort from it's solitude. His incident with the carving made him cautious though, so lighting his wand he made his way though the rooms before retiring to his bed chamber.

After changing from his robes into his night-shirt and placing his old worn mouse-coloured dressing gown about his shoulders he settled down in front of a low fire to consume the meal the House Elves had prepared for him.

After consuming his light supper; and having read all the periodicals that interested him, and finished making notes in the latest edition of 'Advanced Potion Making' he climbed at last between the cold sheets of his bed.

He closed his eyes but found that the horrifying vision of Regulus' last moments on Earth assailed his senses and opening his eyes he glared up at the dark ceiling.

"Blast." He muttered, pulling himself out of bed. He stalked angrily around the chamber cursing the very memory of Regulus Black, in a fit of rage he threw himself into the old armchair that stood by the fire. His eyes momentarily caught the glint of an old bell that hung innocently by the fireplace. The bell had once communicated with the kitchens but had fallen into disuse and ill-repair. As he looked at the bell, he saw to his astonishment that it began to swing.

At first it swung gently as if afraid to emit a sound but soon it rang with more confidence and Snape's ears were assaulted with the sound of several hundred ringing bells. He cried out in alarm and thrust his hands to his ears, he swore he would find the culprits for this prank and make sure that they paid dearly for their crime.

He stumbled as he tried to reach for his wand, but the ringing stopped almost abruptly as it had started. A heavy atmosphere hung in the air and despite himself, Snape shivered. Curse those Weasley twins! He thought (for he had no doubt that they were behind this prank.) He tried to settle back into his armchair, but another sound interrupted his rest.

This sound was heavier than the bells, a clanking sound as if someone were dragging heavy chains behind them. The noise appeared to be coming from outside the corridor and Snape's mind was instantly thrown to the earlier events of the year, to the so-called 'Chamber of Secrets'. He pulled his dressing gown closer to his body and gripped his wand tightly.

The door flew open with a bang crashing onto the wall behind it. In an instant he was on his feet, advancing towards the door his wand out. He gave a cry as a hot searing pain shot through his arm, he watched horrified as his wand flew up into the air.

There, standing before him in his tattered old clothes was Regulus Black. His dark hair tied behind his head in a tight pony-tail. There was no doubting that face. Hung about his body were a many great chains, the chain was clasped at the middle of his chest and round down about his body like a great tail. It was transparent, Snape could see into the dark corridor behind the horrific sight that lay before him.

He did not believe what he was seeing blaming the vision upon his supper. He could not doubt that something stood before him as he felt the searing heat of Regulus' eyes reaching into him. A tight handkerchief clung to his head hiding the large gash that had final taken his life. Regulus' groaned and heaved his chains towards Snape, the door snapped shut behind him.

Despite not believing his eyes, Snape took a step back away from the vision.

"What do you want with me?" He asked without a tremor in his voice.

"Much." Regulus replied. There was no hiding from the fact that, that was indeed his voice.

"Who are you?" Snape demanded.

"You mean who was I?"

"Who were you?" He raised his voice determined to show whoever was pulling his prank that he was not affected.

"In life I was the man you tortured to death to avoid another's wrath, Regulus Black. The man you apparently cared for."

"This is a cruel trick." Snape said to no one in particular.

"You don't believe me?"

"I don't."

"Why do you doubt your eyes?"

"Because the slightest thing can affect them. You are no doubt a terrible prank, or perhaps the light meal the House Elves prepared me has affected me. You could be a piece of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato." He glared closely at the image, "I would say there is more of gravy than grave about you."

Regulus returned Snape's glare with equal force. Snape felt the air about him tighten and constrict, he struggled to control his breathing and wished he could subdue the thud of his heart against his ribs.

Regulus gave a terrifying roar and shook his chain causing an appalling noise to echo around the room; Snape seized his chair shaking. Regulus advanced forward, slowly removing the ghostly bandage from around his head Snape tried to avoid staring the ghastly wound that was slowly coming into view, his stomach tightened as he remembered Regulus' final moment.

"No...please." He gasped, his hands forward pleading with the spirit.

"Look at me." Regulus hissed, "do you believe in me or not?"

"I do." Snape sobbed, "but why do you stalk me? Why are you here? Why must you torment me so!"

In reply he lifted his chain, "I'm bound, Severus. I'm bound to this infernal life, I can't escape from my sins, this fate that binds me, binds you also."

Ghostly chains began to wind themselves around Snape's thin body, he gave a cry and tried to brush away the apparitions but his hand touched only air.

"Regulus," he cried imploringly, "my dear companion, why? Over me comfort as I did to you in life, not this."

"Comfort?!" Regulus laughed, "I have none to give. Because of you, because of what you did to me and because of my own sins I can't rest. I can't leave this retched life. For twelve years I have wandered, despite what you did I know how your feelings lie and upon by word, Severus, I don't want you to share the same fate."

"Well, twelve years I suppose you saw much of the world." Snape mused.

Regulus roared again, rattling his chains. "Doubled ironed, bound. Trapped by constant labour, not able to make amends for my misdeeds. My redemption came too late for me to be saved, but it is not too late for you." He loomed over Snape, "you a have a chance to escape my fate."

"You offer your murderer a chance for redemption...why?"

"We shared many things in life, this is my gift to you."

Snape was deeply touched by this gesture. "You are a good friend, Regulus."

"You will be visited, by three spirits."

Snape groaned, "please no, I'm haunted enough as it is!"

"Without them you won't be able to save yourself from the path I walk."

"Can't they come all at once and get it over with?" He asked hopefully.

"Expect the second tomorrow night at this hour, the third the next upon the last stroke of midnight. You'll see me more Severus, remember what has taken place." As he spoke, he carefully wrapped the handkerchief around his head once more to hide the hideous gash. He began to walk backwards towards the window and Snape found himself following him, as he neared Regulus held up a hand warning him to come no closer. Snape stopped and stared as Regulus began to moan into the darkness, his heart leapt as he heard the mournful cries of more souls and with a last look at Snape, Regulus vanished.

Quickly, he ran to the window and looked out upon the night. The air was filled phantoms, with the ghosts of those trapped, chained and bound – some together. None of them were free and miserable for all eternity. Whether these images merged or faded into the mists he couldn't be sure but as their mournful cries vanished the night returned to normal.

He tried to dismiss it as pure fantasy, as too much to drink, but he found that he could not. Suddenly very tried from the emotional turmoil he had been pulled through and the terrible memories he had endured he made his way back to his bed. Without removing his dressing-gown, he fell into a deep slumber.