2 – Holiday Cheer
The one thing I missed at this time of year was the snow. In my little village in Tuscany, at the base of the Italian Alps, the snow was crisp and clean and sparkled like faerie lights as it floated to the ground. When it snowed in England, at least where I was, it wasn't often, and it was wet and slushy and grey, not very pleasant, and it made me homesick.
Exams ended a few days ago, and most students headed home to their families for the holidays. Emily had invited me to visit hers, but I declined. There was a Yule celebration at the Society of Potions Masters Manor House on the twenty-first, and I had an appointment to meet with Belby on the twenty-seventh. There was some potions work that I wanted to keep up with, and a new advancement for the Experimental and Medicinal Potions lab at the Italian Ministry to look into. My old supervisor kept in touch occasionally and had made a personal request. How could I refuse? Plus, I had one term left in the Masters of Science program and needed to begin formulating my doctoral thesis for sanction. And, of course, there was Albus, who always had something for me to do. I wondered what it would be this time.
The Society's Manor House was brightly lit with frosted orbs that led from the Apparition Gardens to the main entrance. Every window facing the garden was framed with evergreen bows and red holly berries, and each was alight with a single radiant candle. An enchanted snow fell lightly to the ground making the structure appear to glow. Festive juniper wreaths hung on the heavy front doors of the pristine white estate and both doors were thrown open, the merry sound of chatter and music filling the night air.
With most of the students gone from campus for the holidays, it was easy to slip out dressed in formal Wizard robes. My midnight blue gown bustled gracefully around the ankles as I walked toward Radcliffe Camera. The deep V-neck and princess bodice framed my mother's silver and sapphire drop necklace and earring set beautifully. It had been in the Goblin's bank on the Strada di Stegra in Wizard Rome instead of in the cottage where I had lived, thus was safe from the disaster. As part of my "life's change" when I left Italy for England, I had cut off my long hair in favour of a shoulder length page. It was charmed back and away from my face with sparkling clips. I rather liked the cut as it was easier to manage.
Apparating from the west side of the Camera, I arrived in the glittering Tulip Garden with several other guests. My Vagueness Charm had, over the years, become like a piece of clothing. When I rose in the morning, it went on, almost before my socks. Checking it and nodding a greeting to a wizard and a witch with whom I was distantly acquainted, I headed toward the reception. Climbing the sweeping flagstone steps, I entered the building and was immediately welcomed by a smiling, pink-eared house elf. Shaking the snow from my cloak, I folded it neatly and handed it to the creature.
"Merry Meet and Happy Yule," I greeted the elf with a friendly smile.
"And, to you, Mistress" the elf returned with a low bow. "Pinky is very glad to see Mistress. Pinky will serve Mistress tonight, if that is to your pleasin'."
"I would be honoured." I gave a slight bow to the elf whose eyes grew as big as tennis balls. Pinky was flustered, not knowing how to reply. No one had ever bowed to a house elf before, and no one ever claimed to be "honoured" by one, of that, she was sure.
I smiled and crouched to meet the shocked elf eye-to-eye. "I like you, Pinky, and it pleases me that you will serve me tonight."
A wide, toothy grin appeared on the elf's face as she bowed again and quickly disappeared clutching my cloak to her chest.
Rising and heading toward the crowded reception room, I met Chairwizard Castwell and Master Whitherling in the doorway. I smiled pleasantly as Castwell gripped my hand.
"Mistress Di Marco," he breathed as the back of my hand was lifted to his lips. "I am delighted to see you. This is a night to enjoy," he wagged a finger at me. "So I want you to relax and forget everything else for a while. Although, I must ask, how is school going? Are you nearly finished?"
"Good evening, gentlemen," I replied to both men with a sociable smile. "School is going well, Sir." I directed my attention toward the Chairwizard, the man who had entrusted me with making antidotes for Voldemort's "viruses" during the war. "I have one term left in my Masters of Science degree and have applied for my doctorate. I will be presenting my thesis topic after the holiday. If it's accepted, I hope to begin in the summer."
"Muggle Studies," huffed a rather hefty wizard who had sidled by. "I've heard of your theories, Mistress. Are Wizard ways not good enough for you? They have been in use much longer than any Muggle method."
"Now, Horace. Mistress Di Marco is merely exploring alternative ways to advance our methods. If applying Muggle technologies helps us cure our own, then why shouldn't we explore the possibilities?" Master Whitherling defended me while I silently fumed at my former Potions teacher. In school, he had taken advantage of his position over Severus and me, presenting an advancement that we had created to the Ministry of Magic and reaping the rewards. With my Vagueness Charm, he didn't recognize to whom he was speaking.
"I suppose," Master Slughorn admitted absently as he spied a house elf with a food platter. "Waste of time if you ask me. Wizards' way is so much better," he added dismissively as he intercepted the elf with the tray and began devouring the contents.
"Ignore him," Master Whitherling advised as he turned back to me. "He's a pompous, old fart. Far too interested in what he can get from others to be concerned with how to actually help them. So Slytherin. Used to teach at Hogwarts but has since retired. You know, I was surprised to see who replaced him. Master Snape." He paused to gage my reaction. When I didn't respond, he continued. "Do you remember him? I believe you two met in Italy several years ago when he apprenticed with me. I fully expected him to continue in research as you have, not turn to teaching. What a waste of talent." He became pensive for a moment. "I suppose an experience with You-Know-Who would change the direction of any man's life, though. I wonder if he'll be here tonight. Doesn't often come to these things." Whitherling quickly glanced around the room, then leaned in to whisper. "Foul temperament that seems to have gotten worse over the past year. I pity those poor children in his charge."
Master Whitherling rambled on for a few more minutes while my eyes scanned the crowd. If Severus was going to show up, I'd better be ready.
Moving further into the room, I joined the odd conversation here and there. It felt good to reacquaint with my old colleagues, some of whom I hadn't seen in months, some for more than a year. I had missed last year's celebration, having been on an "errand" for Albus, and also, not being in much of a mood to celebrate. I agreed with Albus and Severus and didn't believe that Voldemort was truly gone. Strange rumours had come from Sherwood, and my empathic abilities made me the prime candidate for finding out what was wrong. I remembered the darkness of the nights and the cold, empty feeling of fear and loneliness. I began to shudder as a slight nudge woke me from my memory.
"Mistress is needin' food." Pinky was at my elbow with a delectable plate of assorted hors d'œuvres.
I took the proffered plate and thanked the diminutive elf, tasting a miniature quiche. "Delicious," I praised as the elf blushed and bowed away.
Turning to ease my way toward a row of spindly looking chairs by the far wall, I was accosted with a slobbering kiss to the cheek.
"Happy Yule!" the feisty old wizard chimed as he raised his finger upward. I looked in the direction to find a roaming sprig of mistletoe flitting about the room, sporadically stopping over an unsuspecting witch's head. The elegance of the evening was temporarily waylaid by the wizards' attempts to follow the sprig to be the first to kiss the unwary witch before the greenery moved on. I sat to the side watching with amusement until the sprig landed over my head again. Attempting to avoid the line beginning to form, I cursed it for staying so long. After the third soggy kiss on the cheek, the mistletoe was still not moving, and the crowd of aging wizards grew.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Who charmed this thing? I think the charm's worn off!" I raised my hands in half-mocking despair, trying to shoo the greenery away.
The wizards chuckled at their luck, but the crowd parted as a tall, black-clad Master made his way through. His dark, hooded eyes and deep scowl were enough to send most on their way, but as he approached, a wizard, whom I always tried to avoid at these functions, piped up.
"Well, Snape. Your turn to have a go, is it?" His leering laugh was grating.
"I think not," Severus replied scathingly as drew his wand and blasted the offending mistletoe from the air. Spinning on his heel with a dramatic flare of his robes, he stalked to the nearest house elf carrying drinks and downed several glasses of whatever happened to be on the tray.
Thank you, I sent empathically.
Severus didn't acknowledge my connection as he continued to drink, moving toward the food-laden tables. He kept his back to me, and I could feel my heart thud against my chest. Reaching out again, I felt nothing but detachment. Occlumency. He wore it the way I wore my Vagueness Charm, and it was eating away at his soul.
Severus, please, I pleaded as I approached him from the rear. The war is over. Can we not talk? I placed my plate on the table to unsteadily reach for some punch.
"There is nothing to discuss," he replied quietly, turning to face the gathering, seemingly wanting to move away but unable to.
Things happened. We can't change the past, but we can move on, somehow.
He turned back to the table, in the pretence of filling a glass. "You know as well as I that things will never be the same. Too much has happened." He put the glass down and placed both hands on the tabletop.
I still love you.
"Then, you're a fool," was his curt retort as he stood to his full height, inhaling deeply.
Tears began to shimmer in my eyes, as I looked at the man I once called "husband". His eyes were deep pools of empty darkness. He was gone from my reach, barricaded behind spells and charms, determined to never be hurt again.
"You're a fool," he repeated more gently, barely above a whisper, not meeting my gaze, as he turned and headed toward the other side of the room.
Wandering the Manor House in an attempt to regain my composure, I came across a small, pink-eared house elf banging her head against the wall. Rushing to stop the self-destructive action, I knelt beside her and held onto the slim shoulders, turning her to face me.
"What are you doing?" I beseeched. "Please, never hurt yourself again." I was truly distressed by her actions.
"Pinky is a bad elf. Pinky is a bad elf," she wailed, trying to continue the self-punishment.
"Pinky, stop," I seized her again. "What did you do? Why are you a "bad elf"?" By now I was nearly sitting on the floor beside her.
"I is harming a Master. Pinky is to serve Potions Masters. She is not harming Masters." I waited for her sobs to diminish before coaxing her to explain. "Master Snape is being mean to Mistress. Master Snape is making Mistress cry. Pinky is hexing Master Snape." The wail grew louder and began to reverberate off the walls of the hallway.
"Hexed him?" I was shocked but shock quickly turned to amused curiosity. "What hex did you use?" I didn't think that Pinky could do lasting harm but felt a rush that she would try to protect me.
"Pinky is making Master Snape's hair into mistletoe. Witches is following Master Snape, and they is laughing and trying to kiss him. Master Snape is very angry." She buried her face in her hands, ashamed to look up.
I began to giggle, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into a full-blown laugh. Pinky raised her head from her hands in disbelief as I grabbed the little elf and gave her a comforting squeeze.
"Don't worry, Pinky" I chuckled. "I'm sure he has received much worse…and…I think he deserved it. Thank you for making me laugh."
Christmas day found me wandering the Botanic Gardens just southeast of the central campus on High Street. It was a chilly walk from the dorms, but a Warming Charm kept the dampness at bay. I had learned from last year's experience to have plenty of Pepper Up Potion on hand for the coming months as far too many people returned from their holidays with various degrees of illnesses. I also wanted to replenish my supply of Valerian. I wasn't sleeping well again, especially after my encounter with Severus, but I didn't want to resort to the Dreamless Sleep Potion. A strong Valerian tea should do the trick.
There weren't many people at the Gardens, most being home celebrating with their families, so it was a very quiet walk in a very peaceful atmosphere. When the war ended last fall, I found the Gardens to be a sanctuary, of sorts, a place to absorb the power of the plants and dissipate negative energies of my own. It filled me with an almost instant calm.
I was the only visitor in the exotic plants section and nodded to the lone security guard as he passed making his rounds. Waiting until he was around the corner, I cast a Disillusionment Charm and stepped over the thick velvet rope onto the soft earth. Locating the plants that were needed, I thanked Mother Earth for her sacrifice as I picked them and placed them in a blue cotton pouch. Stepping back over the barrier, I leisurely headed back to the dorm. The potions wouldn't take long to make, and I had picked enough to last for the next few months.
Darkness fell early at this time of year, and candles were lit not only for aesthetic reasons but also for a practical purpose. Christmas day was nearly over. The Pepper Up Potion was simmering over a low flame, and I was curled up on my bed with my notebook, going over my hypothesis for the meeting with Belby in two days. It was a good theory; a concrete one, and I think I finally figured out how to present it to the Muggle faculty for approval. I would need the resources here to carry out the studies for both worlds.
As the Valerian tea was beginning to have effect and the notebook slowly slipped from my hands, a light tap sounded at the window. Groggily rising from my comfortable position, I saw a white and grey owl on the snow-covered ledge. Opening the glass, a gust of cold wind blew the bird in, and it perched on the dresser, a small envelope in its beak. Taking the missive and feeding the bird a stale cracker that consisted of part of my dinner, I sat to read the note.
Happy Christmas.
I hope this finds you well.
Strange happenings in Connaught Park, Dover. You skills are required again.
A.D.
Happy Christmas to you, too, Grandfather, I thought bitterly as I tossed the note into the air, vaporizing it instantly. Always have to mix business with pleasure. So much for tucking in early.
There were times that I wished I could be more like Severus and turn my feelings off. I was tired of being hurt and disappointed. I think he had the right idea. Barriers may be the way to go.
