Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in its world.
Snape awoke when the clock stroke one.
In that first moment of grumbles and mutters, he forgot what was to greet him in that hour and was quite shocked by the abundance of light emitting from his bedside. He reached to turn off the lamp when his hand encountered such a chill he yanked it back and muttered a curse, which was followed by a high-pitched giggle. He scrambled out from under the covers and to the other side of the room, facing what appeared to be white light gathered to form something that looked like a child.
Snape was, of course, well aware of ghosts and how they appeared, but this one was different from any he had previously seen. Something about it was off. It looked less dead than it should. Snape felt this being was completely other, that it was not and never had been human. It was less of a ghost and more of a Spirit. Yes, a Spirit, that was it.
"Are you," he cleared his throat then for it was foggy with sleep and fright. "Are you the Spirit Regulus warned me about? The first, that is."
"Yes, I am," answered the child's voice.
Snape thought for a moment. He was debating whether to ask the Spirit to have a seat or to attempt to throw it out when suddenly his hand was once again engulfed in icy air and he was quickly guided to the window and out, out, out into the night.
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," said the child, who was now dragging Snape up higher and higher into the sky.
Snape, who never even felt comfortable on a broom much less dangling from a hand he couldn't even know was there by touch, elected not to continue the conversation as the two glided over his neighborhood. Once again, he desperately wished he could believe this was a dream.
Eventually, the Spirit tired of his silence and started a conversation all on her ...his...its own, of which Snape only heard about half as his ragged breathing and the wind combined to be rather loud in his ears.
The Spirit was in the midst of discussing what might have been divine intervention, a concept which Snape cared very little about, when he finally got the sense to ask, "Where are we going?"
"Oh," the Spirit said, as if the idea of telling Snape this little fact had not occurred to it. "We're going to that wizarding school. Uh, what's its name? Pig–no, tortoise? No, um."
"Hogwarts," Snape interjected.
"Oh, yes, that's it. I will be with you to see three moments from your past. After that, my time with you is done. I hope you begin to talk more along the way, but people generally don't. I was hoping you would be different since you're a wizard. Ah! There it is."
Snape wondered many things in that moment. He wondered if there was any purpose to this journey. He wondered if it would hurt him terribly to relive these moments once again. He wondered if he tried to let go of the Spirit would he wake up in his bed.
"Perhaps, but I don't think so," said the Spirit, and Snape looked sharply to it, sure he had not said that last thought aloud. "I can hear you," it said. "Not word for word, and not in any language, but I can understand anyway."
Snape was quite appalled by this, as no one, not even Voldemort had heard his thoughts in almost two decades. He was going to inquire about this when he was interrupted with a giggle.
"No, you were right before. I'm not human and I never was, so your powers do not work on me. I do wish it was different, though. I think I would like to be surprised by the words that come out of people's mouths for once." Its head tilted to the right for a moment until it became straight once again as Hogwarts grew closer. "I twisted the rules a bit so you could relive this moment. It's not on Christmas, but a couple of days before. I thought it was rather important. Please, don't mention it to any of the other Spirits, though."
It did not brighten as they approached the castle. He and the Spirit touched down on a wooden dock and Snape could hardly think for how dizzy the trip had made him. As he entered from one side of the boathouse, Lily Evans entered from the other and quickened her pace to meet a boy who stood in the corner, so cloaked in black it was a wonder she could see him at all. It was not uncommon for Severus and Lily to meet in the boathouse after curfew. They never made plans beforehand, but some nights when Severus would feel like the world was against him and nothing would ever be right, he would make his way down to the boathouse. He never told Lily he was going, but she would always either be there waiting for him or show up soon after he arrived, out of breath and already asking him what was wrong. On nights like these, they would play cards by the light of a jar of blue fire or just sit on the dock with their toes skimming the water.
The moon was the only source of light, slanting silver rays through the ceiling cracks and pooling in with the tide. At night, that was all there was. Severus' silver cheeks, black hair and eyes. Until Lily arrived. No matter how hard the night tried to paint her in its eerie palette, her bright green eyes and red hair could not be touched. And it only ended in making her shine more to Severus, so obviously other in his world of dark and light.
On this particular night, the two best friends sat cross legged facing each other, both looking at the letter in Severus's hands they had both read earlier in the day.
"I can't go home. I just can't," Severus said. He sounded off and Snape could not tell if it was because his third year voice was changing or because he was about to cry.
"You don't have to. I forgot to tell you, my parents sent me an owl today, too. They are going on vacation to Australia! And they won't be back until long after I would need to return to Hogwarts. I'm staying right here, Severus. I'm staying right here with you." Her head was tilted downwards but her eyes looked straight at his and did not blink or look away even after his eyes brimmed with tears and overflowed.
Snape once again felt the chilly hand of the Spirit in his. "No, please just one more minute, Spirit. One more minute."
"That was the year your mother died. You didn't want to go spend Christmas with your father. Why is that?" the Spirit asked, turning its head to look at Snape, who took a moment to think over his answer.
"My father was a cruel man. Mum shielded me from him when she could. I didn't want to go back to him after she died. Honestly, I didn't know if I would survive it."
The Spirit turned away from the dock and as Snape took one final look at the scene, he realized something he had not been aware of the first time he lived that moment. Lily and Severus had gone straight to the library from the Great Hall after the mail arrived. She would have had no time to open, let alone read, a letter from her parents before meeting him. Lily had lied. She stayed with him that Christmas so he would not be alone. There was suddenly something pressing just behind his eyes and as he and the Spirit once more took off, the chill of the night could not touch him.
The warm feeling did not last long, though, because soon after the Spirit lifted off the dock, it plunged straight down into the cold water of the lake, dragging Snape along with it. For one brief moment, Snape forgot all about Regulus and the three Spirits and only knew that he was being pulled deeper and deeper into icy water and could not breathe and his chest was constricting and he needed to breathe and he was pulling back from the hand bringing him down and fighting and kicking and–
Then it was all over as they had drifted straight through the glass of the Slytherin common room and Snape was deposited on the tile floor, perfectly dry and warm.
"Well, that wasn't very nice," the Spirit said, apparently hurt its ethereal form had been kicked.
"That wasn't very nice."
"This moment took place two years after the last," the Spirit whispered as two boys entered the room.
"Why are you whispering?" Snape asked in an equally low voice. "They did not hear us last time."
The Spirit did not look at him as it answered. "I thought it was appropriate."
And then Snape understood. This was the first Christmas he and Lily were no longer friends. In this scene, Severus sat with his back to the roaring green fire, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers.
"I don't think this is going to work," Severus said, lifting his eyes to look at his companion who was lounging in one of the green velvet armchairs.
"God, Severus, if you don't want to, don't." Regulus around his cigarette. "I'm just saying it would help you relax. Make you less...you, for a while."
Severus thought about it for a moment, then reached out a hand to catch the lighter. It glowed a bright orange and looked like it did not belong in the room of dark green. He brought the lit cigarette to his lips and tried to mimic Regulus as he breathed in, the preceeded to cough for the next five minutes.
"Don't be so dramatic," Regulus said. "It's not that bad." Severus recovered for enough time to take a second try, this time with only a few seconds of repercussion. "See, you're getting better already. You can even keep the lighter; I have more."
"Thanks," Severus said after a few moments had passed. "I think it might actually be helping."
There was another moment until Regulus said anything. "Merry Christmas, Severus."
"Merry Christmas, Regulus."
The Spirit once again took Snape's hand and said, "You miss him, don't you?"
Snape hesitated, then said, "Yes, I do. Besides Lily, he was the only one I ever considered a friend."
"Why didn't you go with him when he went against Voldemort?" the Spirit asked.
Snape could not think of a good lie, so he told the truth. "When I was a Death Eater, it was like I was sleepwalking. I would go through the motions. I would do what I was told to do and I did not think of the consequences. I just wanted to be a part of something and when Regulus came to me, I told him I would not side with him because I could see that it wouldn't work. Because I didn't think it was worth it to try."
The Spirit waited until Snape said he would like to go.
The next few minutes took the two through the castle, up to Dumbledore's office. No password was required for entrance and they reached the door at the same time as Severus, who appeared to be in his very early twenties.
"Ah, Severus!" said Dumbledore in a booming voice. The room was awash in scarlet and silver. Tapestries with reindeer patterns connected the long windows and the past headmasters wore Santa hats and and their finest Christmas attire for the occasion.
Dumbledore came around his desk to greet Severus with a firm clap on the shoulders. "I'm so glad you could make it."
Severus did not respond at first and just stared down awkwardly at the man in front of him. "Er, thank you. For inviting me."
Dumbledore turned away for one moment to grab a rectangular package, wrapped in red with a single silver bow, and handed it to Severus. "It's not much, but I thought it would help you next year."
It took Severus a moment to realize Dumbledore meant for him to open it right then. Inside the packaging was his old sixth year potions textbook filled with his own notes and corrections. "Property of the Half-Blood Prince," it said inside.
"I took the liberty of flipping through a few pages," Dumbledore said. "I knew you were talented in Potions, but I had no idea you surpassed the text." And when Severus still had not said anything, he added, "I thought you could use this to teach your classes next year."
"Thank you, Professor," Severus said and suddenly felt very foolish. "I am sorry I didn't get you anything."
Dumbledore once again clapped him on the shoulder, let out a little laugh and said, "Think nothing of it, Severus. You've already done me a great service. Professor Slughorn was to retire at the end of this year and I was well behind on the task of finding his replacement."
The two exited the office and, according to Snape's memory, proceeded down to the Great Hall where he was first met with many skeptical eyes, but as the evening progressed the eyes became gentler and laughs of merriment filled the air.
Snape, standing at the edge of this office he knew so well with the Spirit, was suddenly struck with how well Dumbledore disguised his deeds. He had given Snape the greatest gift: a purpose, and had pretended as though Snape was the saint.
"I think you're wrong," came the quiet voice beside him. Snape turned his head to look at the Spirit.
"Wrong about what?" he asked.
"You said your only friends were Lily and Regulus. That is not true at all." The Spirit shook its head. "No, not if what we just saw was real. Dumbledore is your friend, Severus. Do not forget that."
And in that moment as the red and silver faded to black, Snape thought that maybe, just maybe, the Spirit was right.
Author'sNote: Thank you so much for reading! There will be five chapters in all and I will post one every other day. I call the chapters "Staves" because that is how Dickens referred to them in A Christmas Carol.