"The Lady and The Snape"
STANDERD DISCLAIMER: Go read the other four.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've borrowed Snape's long black leather coat and his expensive black wool pants from Meatball's fic Bad Dog! Really Bad Dog! Personally, I think he bought those things at Versace, but that's just me.
Chapter 5
So This Is Christmas
During the remaining
weeks before the winter break, Snape spent nearly all of his time down
in the dungeons. This allowed him both to avoid the other professors and
to continue his own research, which he now pursued with a mania bordering
on obsession. He had hoped to have it finished before the break began,
but he had quickly realized that it was not to be.
Late on Christmas Eve
day, he looked up from the parchment he was writing, suddenly aware of
the time. With reluctance, he put down his quill and rubbed his tired eyes.
As he left his office, he encountered Dumbledore in the hallway. The headmaster
carried a package wrapped in red and green Christmas paper.
"I was just coming
to see you, Severus," he said cheerfully. "I hope you're planning to join
us for Christmas dinner tomorrow," he continued.
"No, I am not," Snape
replied.
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked.
His expression softened. "Severus, perhaps you don't believe this, but
you are more than welcome - "
"As it happens, I have
other plans," Snape replied, cutting him off.
"Really?" Dumbledore
asked, his eyebrows going up. Snape snorted
"You sound surprised,
Headmaster. But weren't you just telling me that I'm welcome at dinner
here?" he asked mockingly. Before the headmaster could reply, Snape continued
in a scathing tone. "Though I suppose it is shocking that someone
might actually want my company - unlike my fellow professors, who
must tolerate having it forced upon them by our headmaster!"
"That's not what I
meant, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly, immune as always to the sting
of Snape's poisonous tongue. He held out the package he was carrying. "Besides
asking you to dinner, I also came down here to give you this."
"What is it?" Snape
asked suspiciously.
"A Christmas gift,
Severus." Long tired of being Dumbledore's charity case, Snape was in no
mood to play that role tonight.
"I don't need anything,
thank you… " he told Dumbledore as he turned to continue up the hall to
his quarters. "…and Merry Christmas," he added as an afterthought.
"It's not from me,"
Dumbledore called. Snape kept walking. "It's from Amanda Lupin." The headmaster
watched in satisfaction as the Potions Master froze in his tracks.
"What?" he asked softly,
coming back up the hall.
"She asked me to give
it to you at Christmas dinner, but I had a feeling you wouldn't be joining
us." Snape took the package without comment. "Merry Christmas, Severus,"
Dumbledore said, smiling.
"Thank you, Headmaster,"
Snape replied. "Now if you'll excuse me…"
Snape reached his quarters
and pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind him. He put the gift on his
table and stared at it for a long moment.
"So," he said softly.
"I wonder how Lupin has decided to reward me for murdering his child."
He drew his wand and tapped the package cautiously. Nothing happened. Snape
frowned. It did not appear to be hexed… but prior experience with Lupin
and his three friends during their days at school together had taught Snape
wariness. There was a small tag taped to the package by a piece of red
thread. Still holding his wand at the ready, he used his free hand to flip
it over to read the handwritten message:
Merry Christmas, Professor Snape. I hope you enjoy this!
Love,
Amanda
Snape frowned. It didn't
seem
like a trick. Of course, none of the foolish pranks that "Moony" and
his "Marauder" friends had pulled when they were in school had seemed like tricks at the time - at least, not until Snape had been right in the
middle of them and it was too late. Snape recalled being taken to the hospital
wing on various occasions to be cured of things like bright blue hair,
twelve-inch fingernails, crossed eyes, purple teeth, a shocking pink tongue,
two extra toes on each foot - and worst of all - a horrible itchy rash
all over his -
"We'll see about this,"
Snape said softly. True, he and Lupin were no longer schoolboys. They were
grown men and fully qualified wizards - which of course made the stakes
much higher. Raising the stakes even further were the events of a few weeks
ago. Snape glanced at the tag again; yes, that was certainly Amanda's handwriting,
and he somehow couldn't imagine her being involved in something that might
well do him serious harm. Bracing himself for God alone knew what, he cautiously
unwrapped the present… and blinked in surprise.
It was a small portable
stereo like the one Amanda always seemed to have with her. Forgetting his
previous caution, he removed it from its box and put it on the table. He
stared at it for a moment, then shook his head and went to get ready for
his trip the next morning.
Early the next morning,
Snape left the Hogwarts grounds for Hogsmeade, from which he could Apparate
to London. There were not many people about this early in the morning on
Christmas Day, and the few people he did encounter didn't even give him
a second glance. That rather surprised him, as one didn't normally encounter
Muggles in the village. Or perhaps his clothing didn't fool them; despite
the expensive black wool pants and the long black leather coat he wore,
they were able to pick him out as one of their own. He held his small satchel
more tightly, took out his wand, and Disapparated.
He appeared almost
immediately in a residential London neighborhood. He glanced around, wondering
if anyone had seen him appear out of thin air, but he needn't have worried.
The streets here were as deserted as those in Hogsmeade. He stood in front
of the McDougals' home for a long moment, staring at the house next door.
The place held nothing but bad memories for him. Shuddering as a particularly
nasty one resurfaced, he clutched the handle of his satchel and went to
knock on the McDougals' door.
"Hello, Severus," Maryanne.
McDougal said cheerfully. "I'm so glad you came." As soon as he was inside,
she gave him a warm hug. "I've got a surprise for you," she said as she
took his coat and hung it in the closet. Her eyes twinkled in anticipation.
"Really, you shouldn't
have bothered," he began, anticipating another Christmas present.
"Hello, Professor Snape,"
said a new voice. Snape spun around in shock. Sitting on the McDougals'
sofa, calmly sipping a glass of eggnog was Cynthia Hathaway. She was dressed
casually in jeans and a red sweater with a white snowflake pattern. Snape
noted with pleasure that the golden butterfly he had given her for her
birthday fluttered in her dark hair. She looked him up and down, then smiled.
"You make quite a nice Muggle!"
"How - " Snape began.
"Michael suggested
that I invite her," Maryanne confided, smiling at him.
"Hi, Professor Snape,"
Michael said, walking into the living room. He was carrying a cup. "Would
you like some eggnog?" Wordlessly, Snape took the cup from him and had
a long sip, welcoming the burn of the rum in his throat.
"I was quite happy
to receive Mrs. McDougal's invitation. I would have been all alone otherwise,"
Cynthia said. Snape looked surprised. "My parents left this morning to
ski with some friends in Switzerland," she elaborated, "and God only knows
what mischief my brother is getting into with his friends." She
smiled and patted the sofa beside her in invitation. He went to sit with
her, setting his satchel on the floor at his feet. Maryanne exchanged a
conspiratorial glance with her son. She doubted Snape's dazed look had
much to do with the small amount of rum he'd consumed.
"We'll be eating in
a moment," Maryanne told them. She smiled at Snape. "I hope you've brought
your appetite!"
"We should eat ALL
the food so there's none left when Dad comes home. Would serve him right!"
Michael exclaimed, his voice tinged with anger.
"Doctor McDougal isn't
joining us for dinner?" Snape asked, his eyebrows going up. Maryanne's
smile faded and she suddenly looked sad.
"No," she said quietly.
"He's on call today."
"I see," Snape said,
nodding absently for a moment. He smiled at Michael, suddenly remembering
something. He reached for his satchel. "I've brought you something, McDougal,"
he said, opening the satchel and pulling out a large sack with the Honeydukes
Sweetshop logo on it. Michael's eyes lit up as he took the sack and opened
it.
"Wow!" he exclaimed.
"There's pounds of fudge in here! And Chocolate Frogs! And Every Flavour
Beans! And Peppermint Toads! And - " He glanced up at his mother, then
smiled sheepishly. "And they'll all wait until after dinner," he finished.
"You're a mind-reader!"
Maryanne said, laughing.
"Nonsense. They don't
get mind reading until sixth year," Snape said with a completely straight
face. Maryanne gave him a look, unsure whether he was joking. Michael was
still engrossed in his candy.
"Thanks, Professor
Snape!" he said, his face aglow.
"You're quite welcome,
McDougal," Snape said, giving him a rare genuine smile. "Enjoy it in good
health." He looked up at Maryanne. "And for you," he said, reaching into
his satchel and producing a bottle of wine. "To go with dinner."
"Why thank you, Severus,"
she said, taking it from him. "How thoughtful. And now, speaking of dinner…"
"You must let me help
with the washing up," Cynthia said, surveying the veritable mountain of
dirty dishes, pots, pans, kettles, glasses, and utensils that sat in the
kitchen sink and spilled out onto the counters.
"It's going to take
forever,"
Michael groaned.
"Not necessarily,"
Cynthia said. She took out her wand and waved it at the dishes. They rose
into the air and seemed to shake themselves, before settling onto the counter
in neat, clean stacks.
"That's amazing!" Maryanne
exclaimed. Snape gave her a smile and began on the pots and pans. Between
Cynthia and Snape, everything was clean and neatly stacked on the counter
in moments.
"Can you teach ME to
do that, Professor Snape?" Michael asked. "She's always making me help
with the dishes!"
"It's a bit advanced
for a first year, McDougal," Snape said.
"And it's totally outside
the realm of possibility for me, sadly enough!" Maryanne said. "Attending
Hogwarts would be worth it for learning how to do that alone!"
"Come on," Michael
urged. "Let's go break into those chocolates Professor Snape brought!"
"How can you even THINK
about food after that meal?" Cynthia groaned. "I'm so full, I'm never eating
again!" She followed Michael into the living room, leaving Maryanne and
Snape alone in the kitchen. She took Snape's empty glass, set it beside
hers on the counter, and filled them both with eggnog.
"There's something
I'd like to know," she said, handing Snape his eggnog.
"Ask."
"How did I end up with
a wizard child? Or ANY child, for that matter. I was told I could not have
children." Snape sipped his eggnog.
"There are charms that
can make a barren woman conceive," he said finally. "They are very powerful,
so powerful that Muggle women who have been so charmed usually give birth
to wizard children." He took another sip of eggnog. "When I returned to
sell the house, I remembered how you'd always wanted a child. "
"Ah, Severus," she
said softly, her eyes shining with tears. "There's no way I can ever repay
you."
"It was I who was repaying
you ," he told her, his eyes also shining. "You were always so kind to me -
" His voice broke and he took a hasty sip of eggnog. "I probably shouldn't
have any more of this," he said, looking down at his glass. "I'm getting
drunk and maudlin."
"You're allowed," she
told him, smiling through her tears. "It's Christmas."
Maryanne and Michael had gone to bed, tired of waiting up for Dr. McDougal's return. Snape doubted he would be home this night anyway; it was already past eleven. Cynthia had gone upstairs to call her cousin in Cornwall for Christmas. Against his better judgement, an already tipsy Snape had poured himself another eggnog, and now he stood alone in the darkened living room, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree providing the only illumination. Muggle music played faintly on the radio, making him think of Amanda Lupin.
And so this is Christmas
And what have we done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun.
Snape sipped his eggnog and stared out the window into the darkness. Poor Lupin, he thought. Just when he'd thought he had hope for a normal life… he never asked to be a monster. He took another sip of eggnog and sighed. Not like me. Snape suddenly wondered how the Lupins were spending their holiday break.
And so Happy Christmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young.
"Poor old John Lennon," Cynthia said, walking into the living room. Snape gave her a blank look and she gestured at the radio.
A very Merry Christmas,
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear.
"That's John Lennon?
The man who was shot?"
"How did you know about
that?" Cynthia asked, looking surprised.
"Everyone knows about
that," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It's all anyone talked about
when it happened." Cynthia shook her head, amazed as always by the strange
and unlikely places where the Muggle and wizarding worlds intersected.
"I'm glad I caught
you before you Disapparated back to Hogsmeade," she said, moving to stand
next to him. "I have something I want to give you." She held out a small
box wrapped in Christmas paper. "Merry Christmas." Snape blinked.
"Oh," he said, dismayed.
"I didn't get you anything…"
"That's all right,"
she assured him. "You didn't even know I was going to be here. Go on,"
she said, indicating the gift. After a moment, he took it. She smiled in
anticipation as she watched him unwrap it.
"My," he said softly.
Nestled in white cotton was a golden sprig of mistletoe.
"It's real mistletoe,"
she told him, watching him carefully as he took it out of the box and inspected
it. "I had it dipped in Hogsmeade." She did not add that the gold was real
as well; that would have been gauche.
"Thank you…. " What
an appropriate gift for a Potions Master, he thought. He glanced at
her, and his voice suddenly slipped into teacher mode. "And what is mistletoe
used for, Hathaway?"
"Mistletoe is the principal
ingredient in the antidotes to many poisons," she answered immediately.
"It's also used in fertility potions and… love potions." He nodded.
"Very good," he said,
putting it back in its box. As he tucked the box into his satchel, he noted
that she was staring at him expectantly.
"Mistletoe is also
- " she began. She shook her head, an odd expression on her face. "Never
mind."
"Does mistletoe have
another use that I'm not aware of, Hathaway?" he asked, honestly curious.
"No. No… practical
use," she told him, looking at her feet.
"I see," he said, frowning.
She was still looking at the floor. He sure that he was missing something,
but he couldn't figure out what it could be. And Cynthia didn't look inclined
to explain. He sighed.
"Well, I had best be
on my way," he finally said, retrieving his long black leather coat from
the closet and putting his satchel over his shoulder. "I've got some research
I've been working on that I want to finish."
"All right, Professor
Snape," she agreed, nodding. She walked him to the door. "I'll see you
at the end of break," she said. He smiled.
"Enjoy the rest of
your holiday, Hathaway."
"You too," she said.
She looked like she wanted to say something else. Instead, she opened the
door for him and watched as he went outside. "Have a safe trip." The mundane
Muggle-ism made him smile as he heard the door shut behind him. Taking
one last look around, he raised his wand and vanished.
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 6, "And So It Goes"
