That night I could not fall asleep for a long time. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, and finally, I just lay on my back, staring at the ceiling above me. It was painted dark-blue, hundreds or thousands of tiny, silver spots glistening upon it, looking exactly like real stars. I adored this part of my room, even though I did not see it very often – only when I lay down on the bed.
My thoughts kept rushing towards one and always the same person; I still could not accept all that had happened. It had been so surreal that even knowing that it was all true, I did not let myself believe.
However, should it not have been obvious to me for a rather long time? Had he not been following me everywhere, making sure that even I would not have hurt myself. Besides, that one memory... When I had still been unconscious in the hospital wing, I was sure I had felt a kiss on my forehead. Truth be told, until now I had suspected it to be Neville, but Neville had not been allowed to get close to me.
Still, I could not... no, I just did not want to believe. Snape had always hated me – since he had been my teacher. Was it not him who called me a Mudblood and insulted me whenever he had a chance? Not to mention, he was older than me. Much older. Such things happened only in films or books, not in real life.
Probably he still took me for Lily. Truth be told, I now began to wonder who Lily really was; until now, I had only discovered that it was no-one else but Harry Potter's mother. However, there was something about her that made Snape look at me and remember her. And it seemed that it was a good memory.
I let out a soft groan and once again turned in my bed. I heard my mirror's quiet snoring, but I still was unable of falling asleep. During dinner, Neville had noticed that I had been quite distracted, and I had to admit that I had not been able to focus on what he had been telling me, even though he truly seemed to have been quite fascinated by what he had been talking about. And although I usually simply adored listening to him when he talked about things he loved, that time not even a word of his could get through my head.
You seem to love to surround yourself with people who can't give you anything,in my head sounded Snape's cool voice. I groaned again, then stood up and began to walk in circles around the room, shivering from cold and listening to the hum of the wind outside.
And what could Snape give me? He was older than me, bitter man, who saw no good in the things that surrounded him. And although he concealed lots of his kindness, that he usually did not allow to spot in himself, it could change nothing. His company still was not pleasant to me at all – and I did not believe that my company could give him anything but irritation, no matter what he said.
"Snape hates me," I said out loud to myself, but it sounded quite as if I was trying to convince myself, not like I truly believed it. "Snape hates me, and let it stay this way."
"Keep telling yourself that, dearie," sleepily murmured the mirror.
The last week before Christmas had passed surprisingly quickly. Despite Neville's advice to give some homework to my students, so they would not get too lazy, I allowed them to fully indulge in freedom during those few days.
The castle had begun to depopulate as the students left the school, heading back to their family homes. I smiled softly, watching them pulling their trunks to get to the carriages, which would then get them onto the Hogsmeade station, where the beautiful, crimson Hogwarts Express was already waiting for them.
At first, I had to admit, I had been thinking of getting back home for Christmas – although I was a teacher, I still had that right – but instead, I had decided to stay. I was not sure what I would experience at home; my parents were not quite happy that I had chosen "the other world", which was exactly the opposite of what they wanted for them. That was why I had just written a very long letter to them and sent the owl to take it to them along with the gifts.
Not many students had stayed in the castle for holidays; however, the Headmistress came back, and that sight made many of us really glad. She seemed to be tired and as though much older, but when she smiled, she was still the very same McGonagall everyone knew.
Snape in turn... Snape once again began to avoid me, and I was not sorry seeing that, yet in my heart appeared a feeling that I was not able to name. I did not dwell on it for too long, though, because the less I thought of him, the happier I felt.
However, it was not that easy. Neville really did have lots of work in his greenhouses, because he spent there whole days. McGonagall, even though she had come back school, often locked herself in his office and only Snape was allowed to accompany her during those long hours (I tried not to think of what they could be talking about). Hagrid sacrificed all of his attention to his creatures, which – as he told me one day – had begun to get sick because of the very low temperature.
So those were just days I once again spent in the library, poring over different books. And no, I did not feel unhappy because of that, even though, truth be told, I had perhaps already got accustomed to having some company all the time.
At last, the Christmas morning came: it was white, snowy and frosty. There were flowers painted by the frost glistening on the window panes, and I was really glad that the Elves had made sure that the fire in the fireplace would not go out.
At the foot of the bed I could see a small pile of gifts and I smiled softly. Maybe I was still a little kid deep in my heart, since that view made me really happy. But was there anyone who did not like getting presents? At the same time I wondered if the gifts I had given out would give their new owners the same joy.
I sat at the edge of the bed and gently tugged on the ribbon around the first box, when I suddenly heard a quiet knocking on the door. I raised my brows in surprise, because I had not expected any visit so early in the morning, but I thought I knew who it might be – after all, there was only one person – aside the Headmistress – who knew where my room was hidden.
I put the box back on the blanket, then stood up to open the door. I kept smiling slightly, because I had not seen Neville in a really long time.
"Really, Neville, don't you think it's a bit too early..." I began but stopped in mid-sentence, when the door swung open.
There was someone looking at me in surprise, but it was not Neville but Snape. I blushed and made a step back, quickly tying the belt around the robe. I would have never thought that he would see me like that... and that it would be him who had come so early in the morning.
I honestly did not like it when he looked at me in such a way, one of his brows slightly raised, his face painted with an expression I could not really decipher; I was never sure if it was disgust, irony, or something completely different. That was probably why I lacked confidence to keep eye-contact, and I quickly looked somewhere else, clearing my throat.
"I'll admit that I would be quite concerned if you were expecting him at this hour," he said quietly, and I vacantly put my hands into the pockets of the robe, still not looking at him.
"But you see nothing strange in the fact that you came here so early," I retorted before I could even think of what kind of words left my mouth. I bit my tongue, but it was already too late.
"This is the only hour when I don't expect this blockhead," he hissed. "Neither here, nor anywhere around you."
I glanced at him in resetment. I knew I needed towatch my mouth, so I would not provoke another argument, but it still did not change the fact I could not listen to him insulting Neville. No matter what he thought, nothing could make him any better than my friend.
"May I come in?" he asked, but instead of waiting for my answer, he just invited himself inside, and the door immediately closed behind him.
"I don't want to sound rude, but I still think that this hour is way too early for visits," I said, hoping my voice did not tremble too much; I did not want Snape to think that I was scared of him.
Though, I lied to myself, because I definitely was scared. Not that he could do something bad to me... after all, there was no-one else who would care about me as much as Snape himself. Still, something did not let me feel at ease when he was near. Just my room alone had – until now – been a place where I could feel safe; right now, though, I was so lost that I simply did not know what to do.
Snape ignored my words. He looked around, apparently judging my chamber, and I prayed silently that my mirror would not start talking again.
"I didn't expect to get a present from you, Shirley," finally spoke Snape, and I blushed madly.
Never before had I felt so embarrassed. His words had actually sounded like a rebuke to me. However, he was still my colleague – giving something small to him was just normal. It was Christmas, after all.
"Even you couldn't find anything improper in that gesture, Professor," I dared say, at last raising my eyes. To my surprise, I noticed that there was no anger on his face – rather something resembling a kind astonishment and curiosity. Only upon my speaking up, he grimaced slightly.
"I haven't said that I found it improper," he answered, the tone of his voice quite impatient. "Only that I didn't expect it."
"I suspect that my present is just one of many," I said only to avoid awkward silence.
Snape made some strange move, as though he wanted to make a gesture, but resigned just as he had started.
"You think so, Shirley?" he asked, looking at me and raising his brow a bit. "Then know that you're wrong."
I bit my bottom lip, taking another step backwards. I had not expected such a reaction to my having given him a Christmas present. It seemed that it had made a greater impression on him than I could have imagined. Quite shocked, I noticed that the distance between us had not changed – I had not noticed him moving, but I could swear that whenever I stepped away from him, he narrowed the gap again.
"I don't understand, Professor." I, myself, was surprised that my voice had sounded so loudly and confidently. "It's Christmas. It's obvious that presents are given to the colleagues. It's... it's a tradition. And since I owe you my life... I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I..."
I did not finish the sentence. I was afraid that I would go too far, that the situation would get even more awkward than it already was.
"I do have a gift for you, too, Shirley," he replied, as though he had not even heard my words.
"But... really, Professor," I muttered and that was when I could no longer control my nerves. No longer trying to keep up appearances, I just turned away from him and made a couple of steps aside. Snape did not even attempt to stop me.
"I am not doing this because I feel I owe you something," he added. "I'm doing this because I want to."
I was not sure why this man kept making me shy to such a degree. After all, there were other teachers that had been teaching back then, when I had still been a student. However, he was the only one who had such an influence on me. Was it because I had thought he had been dead for so many years? Or maybe because he had hated me since that time?
"I didn't want to give it to the House Elves, because the ones here are quite audacious," he grimaced again, glancing emotionlessly at the pile of gifts at the foot of my bed. "And I don't want the whole school to be talking about it."
"I can assure you that the Elves..."
"I have already heard among the students that Professor Longbottom had been looking for, as they put it, something pretty for Professor Shirley in Hogsmeade.
The tone of his voice made me feel terrible cold that had nothing to do with the freezing air outside the walls of the castle. My stomach turned some weird somersault, and I crossed my arms on my chest, having no courage to look up at Snape.
"I'm sure that it was a total coincidence," I answered, not even daring to turn towards him. "The students like to chatter."
"Oh, of course," replied Snape, his voice full of venom. "And some people just adore to give them reasons for the chatter."
Only then did I turn back to glance up into his eyes. For a moment I was tempted to break the contact, but I did not allow myself even to blink, even though I would swear that he was doing his best to crush me by just looking at me.
"Never in my life would I have thought that you were aiming so low," he said so quietly that I heard not his voice but his thoughts.
"I don't think it's the best moment for this..."
"You're a coward." He made another step towards me. In the blink of an eye I got close to the door. "But you are not a complete idiot and you know that you can do better."
"Professor..."
"Or maybe I should just admit that a half-Squib and a Mudblood make a good couple?" The muscles in his face twitched dangerously. Perhaps I would have preferred if he yelled instead of insulting me and Neville... especially when there was nothing between the two of us.
Snape was jealous. Now, I knew it for sure. Yet I still did not see the reason why I should explain myself to him. Even if there was anything between me and Neville, he had no right to meddle in things that did not concern him.
"Do you think that I've been caring for you so much so I can watch now that oaf... that numbskull using that so he could get closer to you?"
I stopped moving away from him. Snape made use of that immediately, and before I realised that, he stood right in front of me, like some frightening phantom.
"You do not owe me, Professor," I replied.
"I would give you everything."
"I want nothing from you," I retorted, turning back to leave.
But that was when I felt his fingers closing around my wrist.