A/N: FOR PETE'S SAKE, READ "THE MASTER OF POTIONS" BEFORE YOU READ THIS FIC!!!!!
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Severus found himself again, sitting on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands and sobbing. Was that a dream? How on Earth could it have been? Was his mind so twisted as to think up such a fantasy out of past horrors? Questions and terrible answers raged inside his mind as he veritably dove for the shelter of the pillow and blankets. This hard, cruel-hearted man cried himself to sleep.
DING. DING.
Snape's red, puffy eyes shot open at the sound of the two o'clock bell. "Not again," he moaned, turning over into his pillow. "Go away!"
To his deep surprise, a rustic chuckle answered this plea. "Sorry, Sev'rus, yeh've got more ta see."
He turned around like someone on death row and hid his face again. "Oh, no, not you!" At his bedside stood a figure at least two times as tall as a normal man and about three times as wide. The dialect and cloud of black scraggly beard around his face immediately gave away the fact that Rubeus Hagrid had come.
"Yeah, it's me. The Ghost o' Christmas Present. 'Course, yeh know me better as Rubeus Hagrid, so I don' mind if yeh call me that."
"Hagrid, as Master of Potions in this school, I command you to extricate yourself from my office immediately!" He snapped, obviously forgetting everything the Ghost of Christmas Past had shown him. "Now go!"
"Yeh've got some big problems learnin' lessons, haven' yeh, Sev'rus? Up yeh go!" that big vicegrip clamped down on his shoulder yet again and swept him out of his bed. "Tha's better. Jus' follow along, now." Hagrid lumbered over to the closet and opened it. "After you." When Severus didn't move, Hagrid pushed him like a broom pushes dust into the closet.
When they came out the inevitable other side, it was the Hogwarts staff room. This was certainly full of Christmas cheer, with Professor Flitwick's multicolored decorations gleaming from every corner and everyone present enjoying a good party. Lupin went to the head of the table. "All right, everyone! Let's play 20 questions!" Everyone seemed to want to do so, so he said, "I'll go first. It's an animal."
Dumbledore piped up. "Is it a social animal?"
"Not usually."
Professor Sprout thought for a second, then spoke. "Is it unpleasant?"
"Indubitably, Hazel."
"Does it walk on four legs?"
"No."
"Does it live in sewers?"
He just laughed, which was generally taken to mean no.
"Er...a rat?"
Lupin shook his head, still laughing about the sewer comment.
"A snake?"
He bent double with laughter.
"A salamander? A toad? A-"
Lupin gasped it out through gales of mirth. "Stop! Stop! You all know this animal quite well, I'm sorry to say. It's our very own Severus Snape!"
Everyone smiled broadly except for Snape. "You'll pay for that one, Lupin!" and with that, he launched himself at the offendor, but flew right through him. Hagrid pulled him up and dusted him off.
"Shouldn't a done that, Sev'rus. Yeh can't hurt 'em, jus' like they can't see yer. We got a couple other places ter go yet. Come on." He walked to the closet with Severus in his wake.
This room was dark, with five four-posters arranged throughout it. Snoring came from four of the five beds, but from one there came only muffled weeping sounds. Hagrid strode over to that bed and parted the curtain with a huge hand. "Look in there." Severus leaned over the bed and saw Neville Longbottom sitting bolt upright, clutching a pillow to his lower face. The pillow was soaked with tears from his streaming eyes, and in his hand was a faded, creased photograph. From inside it waved a round-faced wizard and a pretty witch, obviously his wife. Neville folded it up again and placed it into an envelope, which he hid under his mattress.
"Yeh see, Sev'rus? Dumbledore didn' tell yeh, but Neville's parents ain't dead. They're in the fizziatric ward, or summat like that, at Mungo's. He goes an' visits 'em every holiday, but 'is grandmum couldn' get the money together this Chrismas. They don' even rekanize 'im! An' there yeh were, screamin' yer lungs out at 'im, when he was on the verge o' tears as it was!"
Severus was speechless. "I-I...I didn't know...I'm sorry..."
"Well, sorry ain't good enough sometimes, is it?" Hagrid roared, slamming his umbrella on the floor. "Don't yeh have a heartstring devoted teh compassion? Haven' yeh ever thought o' what yeh might be doin' teh a kid when yeh're just yellin' at 'im?" Suddenly, he calmed down and began stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. "Or her." Then, before Snape could react to these words, Hagrid had a diary in his large hands. On the cover, in gold letters, was embossed, "Hermione Granger."
"Hagrid, we've no right to be going in students' diaries!" Snape hissed.
"Ah, close yer mouth, fer once in yer life." He began leafing through until the latest entry. "Here we go. 'December twenty-fourth...Snape blew up at Neville today. Gave him detention for Christmas day, have you ever heard of anything so cruel? When DOES that monster let up? Now Gryffindor's lost fifteen points and we're already behind for the House Cup. There's a Muggle quote I heard somewhere once: "There's no rest for the weary."' Sev'rus? Yeh should think about that whenever yeh wanna 'blow up at' a kid."
Snape didn't say anything. His lips were drawn in a tight, pensive line.
"This one'll knock yeh fer a loop. Come on." They walked back through the closet, and Hagrid was right. What he saw did knock him for a loop.
(Should I stop here? Nah, I'll be nice.)
It was an old, dark alleyway, with bums and the general dregs of the wizarding world lining the sides. Hagrid led, grim-faced, down the alley.
"Hagrid...who on Earth could I know who's here, now?"
"Yeh'll see. Oh, yeh'll see."
They walked on in silence, finally stopping at an old cardboard box. Inside was the sleeping figure of a young-looking wizard, probably about twenty-one, but he had the lines of ages etched into his face. Hagrid obviously wanted Snape to look inside, so he bent to do so. "Oh, my God..." He was older, obviously, but that black hair...the slightly hooked nose..."Tommy," he breathed out the word, then everything went black. The next thing he knew, he was back in his office at Hogwarts, with Hagrid sitting next to his bed.
"Knew yeh'd come 'round sometime. Don' get up, jus' let me explain. When yeh left to join up with Dumbledore, yeh already know that Malfoy an' 'is cronies...yeh know wot they did. But Tommy was just a liddle 'un, so Selene was yellin' for 'im teh run away, so 'e jus' crawled out while they was all concentratin' on her. He crawled inter yer secret closet, yeh know, the one only him an' you knew 'bout, an' all the Death Eaters thought that each other 'ad done 'im in, so 'is escape sorta went unnoticed. When that lot 'ad left, Tommy came out, an' did a fair bit o' cryin', when 'e saw 'is mother. But then 'e went out inter this world. Slept in doorsteps, ate when 'e could, an' it's a miracle 'e survived, I'll tell yeh that, Sev'rus."
He got out of his bed and grabbed Hagrid by his huge lapel. "Will Tommy live? Is he going to be all right?"
Hagrid brushed him off like a beetle. "If those shadows don' change...then Tommy'll die."
"But I couldn't have known...I couldn't have..."
"Yeh shouldn't 'ave left, is the problem! Yeh coulda just tol' them, an' they'da follered yeh!" Hagrid's apparation was fading quickly. "Jus' remember wot I showed yeh 'ere tonight, an' learn from it! Good luck."
And he was gone.
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Severus found himself again, sitting on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands and sobbing. Was that a dream? How on Earth could it have been? Was his mind so twisted as to think up such a fantasy out of past horrors? Questions and terrible answers raged inside his mind as he veritably dove for the shelter of the pillow and blankets. This hard, cruel-hearted man cried himself to sleep.
DING. DING.
Snape's red, puffy eyes shot open at the sound of the two o'clock bell. "Not again," he moaned, turning over into his pillow. "Go away!"
To his deep surprise, a rustic chuckle answered this plea. "Sorry, Sev'rus, yeh've got more ta see."
He turned around like someone on death row and hid his face again. "Oh, no, not you!" At his bedside stood a figure at least two times as tall as a normal man and about three times as wide. The dialect and cloud of black scraggly beard around his face immediately gave away the fact that Rubeus Hagrid had come.
"Yeah, it's me. The Ghost o' Christmas Present. 'Course, yeh know me better as Rubeus Hagrid, so I don' mind if yeh call me that."
"Hagrid, as Master of Potions in this school, I command you to extricate yourself from my office immediately!" He snapped, obviously forgetting everything the Ghost of Christmas Past had shown him. "Now go!"
"Yeh've got some big problems learnin' lessons, haven' yeh, Sev'rus? Up yeh go!" that big vicegrip clamped down on his shoulder yet again and swept him out of his bed. "Tha's better. Jus' follow along, now." Hagrid lumbered over to the closet and opened it. "After you." When Severus didn't move, Hagrid pushed him like a broom pushes dust into the closet.
When they came out the inevitable other side, it was the Hogwarts staff room. This was certainly full of Christmas cheer, with Professor Flitwick's multicolored decorations gleaming from every corner and everyone present enjoying a good party. Lupin went to the head of the table. "All right, everyone! Let's play 20 questions!" Everyone seemed to want to do so, so he said, "I'll go first. It's an animal."
Dumbledore piped up. "Is it a social animal?"
"Not usually."
Professor Sprout thought for a second, then spoke. "Is it unpleasant?"
"Indubitably, Hazel."
"Does it walk on four legs?"
"No."
"Does it live in sewers?"
He just laughed, which was generally taken to mean no.
"Er...a rat?"
Lupin shook his head, still laughing about the sewer comment.
"A snake?"
He bent double with laughter.
"A salamander? A toad? A-"
Lupin gasped it out through gales of mirth. "Stop! Stop! You all know this animal quite well, I'm sorry to say. It's our very own Severus Snape!"
Everyone smiled broadly except for Snape. "You'll pay for that one, Lupin!" and with that, he launched himself at the offendor, but flew right through him. Hagrid pulled him up and dusted him off.
"Shouldn't a done that, Sev'rus. Yeh can't hurt 'em, jus' like they can't see yer. We got a couple other places ter go yet. Come on." He walked to the closet with Severus in his wake.
This room was dark, with five four-posters arranged throughout it. Snoring came from four of the five beds, but from one there came only muffled weeping sounds. Hagrid strode over to that bed and parted the curtain with a huge hand. "Look in there." Severus leaned over the bed and saw Neville Longbottom sitting bolt upright, clutching a pillow to his lower face. The pillow was soaked with tears from his streaming eyes, and in his hand was a faded, creased photograph. From inside it waved a round-faced wizard and a pretty witch, obviously his wife. Neville folded it up again and placed it into an envelope, which he hid under his mattress.
"Yeh see, Sev'rus? Dumbledore didn' tell yeh, but Neville's parents ain't dead. They're in the fizziatric ward, or summat like that, at Mungo's. He goes an' visits 'em every holiday, but 'is grandmum couldn' get the money together this Chrismas. They don' even rekanize 'im! An' there yeh were, screamin' yer lungs out at 'im, when he was on the verge o' tears as it was!"
Severus was speechless. "I-I...I didn't know...I'm sorry..."
"Well, sorry ain't good enough sometimes, is it?" Hagrid roared, slamming his umbrella on the floor. "Don't yeh have a heartstring devoted teh compassion? Haven' yeh ever thought o' what yeh might be doin' teh a kid when yeh're just yellin' at 'im?" Suddenly, he calmed down and began stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. "Or her." Then, before Snape could react to these words, Hagrid had a diary in his large hands. On the cover, in gold letters, was embossed, "Hermione Granger."
"Hagrid, we've no right to be going in students' diaries!" Snape hissed.
"Ah, close yer mouth, fer once in yer life." He began leafing through until the latest entry. "Here we go. 'December twenty-fourth...Snape blew up at Neville today. Gave him detention for Christmas day, have you ever heard of anything so cruel? When DOES that monster let up? Now Gryffindor's lost fifteen points and we're already behind for the House Cup. There's a Muggle quote I heard somewhere once: "There's no rest for the weary."' Sev'rus? Yeh should think about that whenever yeh wanna 'blow up at' a kid."
Snape didn't say anything. His lips were drawn in a tight, pensive line.
"This one'll knock yeh fer a loop. Come on." They walked back through the closet, and Hagrid was right. What he saw did knock him for a loop.
(Should I stop here? Nah, I'll be nice.)
It was an old, dark alleyway, with bums and the general dregs of the wizarding world lining the sides. Hagrid led, grim-faced, down the alley.
"Hagrid...who on Earth could I know who's here, now?"
"Yeh'll see. Oh, yeh'll see."
They walked on in silence, finally stopping at an old cardboard box. Inside was the sleeping figure of a young-looking wizard, probably about twenty-one, but he had the lines of ages etched into his face. Hagrid obviously wanted Snape to look inside, so he bent to do so. "Oh, my God..." He was older, obviously, but that black hair...the slightly hooked nose..."Tommy," he breathed out the word, then everything went black. The next thing he knew, he was back in his office at Hogwarts, with Hagrid sitting next to his bed.
"Knew yeh'd come 'round sometime. Don' get up, jus' let me explain. When yeh left to join up with Dumbledore, yeh already know that Malfoy an' 'is cronies...yeh know wot they did. But Tommy was just a liddle 'un, so Selene was yellin' for 'im teh run away, so 'e jus' crawled out while they was all concentratin' on her. He crawled inter yer secret closet, yeh know, the one only him an' you knew 'bout, an' all the Death Eaters thought that each other 'ad done 'im in, so 'is escape sorta went unnoticed. When that lot 'ad left, Tommy came out, an' did a fair bit o' cryin', when 'e saw 'is mother. But then 'e went out inter this world. Slept in doorsteps, ate when 'e could, an' it's a miracle 'e survived, I'll tell yeh that, Sev'rus."
He got out of his bed and grabbed Hagrid by his huge lapel. "Will Tommy live? Is he going to be all right?"
Hagrid brushed him off like a beetle. "If those shadows don' change...then Tommy'll die."
"But I couldn't have known...I couldn't have..."
"Yeh shouldn't 'ave left, is the problem! Yeh coulda just tol' them, an' they'da follered yeh!" Hagrid's apparation was fading quickly. "Jus' remember wot I showed yeh 'ere tonight, an' learn from it! Good luck."
And he was gone.