Here is the second chapter for today! There's nothing more exciting than finally getting a chapter from Snape's perspective, right? Maybe only I find this exciting but that's k


Chapter 11: A Very Death Eater Christmas

In the last house on Spinner's End, sunlight streamed through the clouded glass windows on the second floor. Outside, the modest garden had fallen into disuse, overrun with weeds and its vines climbing haphazardly on the exterior of the house. The odd passersby looking at the rundown house would have felt a sense of unsettlement, amplified by the fact that it was the morning of Christmas Eve and the inhabitants seemed to give no indication of acknowledgement of the holiday.

However, the house's current inhabitant was indeed aware of the date and would soon be celebrating the holiday at Malfoy Manor. Severus Snape was just beginning to awaken and rise from his humble cot on this chilly morning. He eased out of bed gently, stretching his cold muscles and staring out the window with an air of reluctance for what the day would bring.

It had been several days since he had left Hermione at Hogwarts and he was beginning to deeply miss her warm smile and lithe body. He longed to feel her soft curves under him and tangle his hands in her long hair. Instead, he was alone in a cold house, preparing to rejoice with the very people whom had stolen Hermione's teenage years from her. He observed his dilapidated surroundings with a long sigh, remembering the history that the walls contained. Shattered glass bottles thrown against the walls, the angry screams of his drunken father, the swish of his father's belt as it cut through the air – and his own fervent pleas for mercy as the belt cut through his skin. He may have chosen to join the Death Eaters, but his father had made him into one long before he stepped foot before Voldemort. He hadn't known kindness as a child, his mother too cowed by his father to step in during his beatings.

Except I did know kindness – and her name was Lily Evans, he thought yearningly. He reached up to wipe the frost off the inside of the window, getting a clearer look at the path where the two of them used to chase each other as children. Her flowing red hair, shy smile, and seemingly bottomless green eyes. He could picture her running down the path to his house to invite him out to play. Lily had been goodness in a world in which he only knew hate. He had despised his father, and resented his mother for failing to step in during his father's rages. His father's beatings had turned him into a callous preteen, and it was not until he was almost fully grown that he appreciated the little love his mother had given him. She had tried to care for him, in the only way she knew how in their tumultuous household. However, for some inexplicable – and unforgivable – reason, she continued to love her violent drunkard of a husband at the expense of her child's wellbeing.

But Lily had been unwaveringly and effortlessly kind to him and he had fallen in love with her kindness almost instantly. He was a lost, lonely little boy who had only learned anger and violence. Lily taught him how to love with her infectious laughter and bright smile. And, as Severus Snape had found out, on the rare occasion that he loved, he did not stop loving. He loved with every fiber of his being and he ached for the beautiful redhead that had brought light to his darkness.

A solitary tear escaped his eye as he was overcome by memories of Lily and her goodness. He hadn't deserved her kindness, and he had repaid her in the worst way possible. He had killed her. He may not have dealt the parting blow but he was the reason she was dead, and every single day he reminded himself of that fact. He had been caught up in the quest to be part of something bigger than himself – bigger than the poor, misfit boy from Spinner's End. He had felt powerless over his own body for much of his life and he craved the power that the Dark Lord had offered. But that power came with a dark soul. And then my darkness permanently destroyed her light, Snape thought. If even Lily Evans, with her pure heart, could not survive the wickedness of who I am… I deserve to burn in magical hell for eternity.

His pitiful thoughts were interrupted by a resounding knock on his front door and he quickly dressed with a swish of his wand, heading downstairs to meet his unexpected visitor.

"Why, Narcissa, do come in," Severus bowed slightly as the pale, dignified beauty swept past him to his sitting room.

The interior of the house was dusty and dark – due to the cracked and dirty windows – and Narcissa Malfoy looked around searchingly for a suitable place to sit. Snape quickly waved his wand in the direction of two dusty wooden chairs, ridding them of years of dust, and took a seat opposite Narcissa.

She regarded him and his surroundings for a moment before finally speaking, "Severus, it is good to see you looking well."

"Thank you," he responded, "But I assume you are not here merely for pleasantries? I will be at Malfoy Manor for the festivities later this evening."

Narcissa nodded her knowledge of that fact, stating, "I had hoped we could discuss your progress with aiding Draco, away from the ears of the others." Her face took on a worried expression and she wrung her hands nervously.

Snape tried to muster a reassuring expression on his face, leaning forward to steady her trembling hands with his own. "Narcissa, your boy is quite stubborn and has refused my help. Nevertheless, I shall continue to monitor his progress and I am fully prepared to assist him in any way necessary," he said soothingly.

"He has always had a defiant streak – I am sorry that you are being met with his opposition," Narcissa replied anxiously, "But, Severus, have you been able to discern what he is planning?"

"I believe he is pursuing various strategies, but you have my absolute assurance that Draco will succeed with my assistance. I am not only beholden by the Unbreakable Vow but also my own desire to see him succeed," Snape responded, before continuing, "Narcissa, I care for you and your family, and I do not wish to see further punishment be inflicted upon your family."

Narcissa leaned forward, grasping his hands in a gesture of gratefulness as tears began to find their way down her cheeks. "Thank you, Severus, oh thank you. I have been nearly beside myself with worry that perhaps you did not intend to see it through – that the Unbreakable Vow was merely your death sentence. And Draco's death sentence as well." Her dignified exterior was quickly cracking as she spoke of the stress of the past few months. "And Lucius, well, I worry that Lucius has endangered our entire family with his poor decisions. It seems that… that the Dark Lord does not intend to ever restore him to favor."

"It is not for us to speculate on the will of the Dark Lord," Snape responded firmly as he rose from his chair, hoping Narcissa would see that as indication to take leave of him.

She took the hint, rising as well and bidding him farewell, but not before deftly kissing him on the cheek and murmuring, "My everlasting thanks." With that, she went out the front door and disapparated back to Malfoy Manor.

Snape was alone once more in his decrepit dwelling, passing the remainder of the day by practicing Occlumency until there was absolutely no trace of Lily or Hermione or virtuousness anywhere in his mind.


The Malfoys had really outdone themselves, Snape thought as he entered the ballroom in Malfoy Manor. He had attempted to dress nicely for the occasion, in his customary black dress robes and with his dark hair neatly combed. It appears I will fit in well, he decided as he perused the ballroom. The dark ballroom was lit with chandeliers, giving it an eerie glow. Red and green baubles hovered in the air just below the vaulted ceiling and house-elves were situated across the room holding large silver platters of appetizers. Various Death Eaters and members of pure-blood families stood in the ballroom, chatting in small groups. The women were generally dressed in shimmery robes and the men wore dark dress robes to compliment their wives' attire. The single women at the gathering had chosen slightly more risqué outfits in bright reds and deep greens, the plunging necklines of their gowns revealing ample amounts of skin. Draco - and the other young men present - had chosen more subtle suits of black.

Voldemort sat in the far back of the ballroom, perched on a high throne as he surveyed the festivities with a pleased yet mocking smile - as if everyone present provided him with personal amusement as they carried about like ants in an ant village. Occasionally, he would summon someone forward to speak to him with a "Yaxley, come over here," and would whip out his wand and Crucio! them if they did not provide the answers he required immediately.

Snape greeted the various partygoers in attendance, pausing slightly to regard the Greengrass family and Daphne Greengrass as she kissed his hand in greeting. She had dressed a little more modestly than some of the other women and girls in attendance - including her own sister, Astoria, who seemed rather young to have her breasts so boldly on display. Daphne had dressed in an elegant red gown with lace sleeves reaching her elbows and Snape found himself admiring the dress before he could help himself. Hermione's voice mentally sounded in his ear and he could feel her kicking him in reproach as if she were present.

Anxious that he had thought of Hermione at the wrong time, he glanced at Voldemort to ensure that he was currently busy with a different Death Eater, only to find him fixing him with a look from across the room. He crooked a finger in his direction, summoning him to come over. I will die at those hands, he thought with an involuntary shudder.

He swiftly rushed over to present himself before the Dark Lord, bowing and uttering, "My Lord."

"Severus," the Dark Lord said as greeting. "I am pleased to see you looking well," his words reminiscent of Narcissa's from that morning. Do I look more well than usual? Snape pondered. "I trust all is going as planned at Hogwarts?" the Dark Lord questioned searchingly.

Snape nodded and replied, "As you wish for it to go, My Lord." Voldemort fixed him with a look and Snape could feel him enter his mind, searching for proof of what he was saying. He struggled with the effort of concealing his knowledge of future events, but especially found ridding his mind of Hermione to be particularly taxing. He showed Voldemort as much as he was able to show – his supposed artful manipulation of Dumbledore, his assistance offered to Draco, and his continuous disdain for Potter and his gang's childish antics. He was careful to demonstrate situations that would depict nothing but unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord, as he had skillfully done for years.

Voldemort paused his searching of Snape's mind, leaning back and clasping his gnarled fingers together with a pleased smile. "You are ever the loyal servant, Severus."

"Thank you, My Lord. I aim to please you," Snape replied obsequiously.

"Do Potter and his friends suspect Draco?" he asked.

"They are suspicious, My Lord, but Draco has done well at hiding his plans," Snape responded, glad to have the chance to praise the boy and elevate his standing in the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Very well, you may go back to your festivities," the Dark Lord said dismissively, beckoning Draco over to no doubt verify what Snape had told him.

Snape was relieved to have satisfactorily met the Dark Lord's questioning, already longing to be back at the castle with Hermione and less in the mood to be tortured than usual. Not that I am ever in the mood to be tortured, of course, but isn't being at this event torture enough? he thought crossly, scanning the room for someone agreeable to talk to.

Relieved to see Narcissa momentarily available, he hurried over to speak to the cordial host and request a dance. He danced away the rest of his evening with various women – including some admiring current students who no doubt were impressed by the regard in which the Dark Lord held him.

They later took their seats in the dining hall for a sumptuous feast and Snape maintained pretenses as he dined with the closest substitutes he had for family. Snow blanketed the manor and celebrations rang out across Magical Britain, children tucked into their beds as they awaited the arrival of Kristopher Kringle.