By Marie Noire
Chapter Six : O Come All Ye Faithful
Just a few more hours and he would be able to relax for a change. All of his students' papers were graded and the marks sent off to Dumbledore, he had no family to worry about over the holidays… he could have three weeks with nothing he absolutely had to do. He was free to work on his potions as he saw fit, with only the minimal exception of having to mix up Remus' "anti-monster" potion, as he had uncharitably taken to calling it. It was very nearly time for the last and most festive dinner before the holiday proper. Most of the students would be leaving for home bright and early the next morning, and so the meal promised to be special.
Not to mention the continual buzz about some event that had been planned for the supper. Duquesne's little bit of tripe, he had no doubt. Probably some sickeningly sweet Nativity play or some other such nonsense. Peace on Earth, indeed… there was no such thing. Not with the Dark Lord still roaming about in his frighteningly reptilian form, strengthened by the blood of a murdered unicorn and by the spell he had used Harry in.
Severus hoped against hope that the slight itch on his left arm was his imagination as he stalked into the great hall, trying desperately to focus on something mundane, like the near-overwhelming scent of evergreen in the air.
All of his Slytherins were lined up at their long table and he nodded curtly at them as he passed on his way to the staff table. Funny, he wasn't late… but the hall was just about to its full capacity already, as though everyone were anxiously awaiting something. Apparently, Duquesne had something a bit more in-depth than a trite Christmas play in mind.
He sat, noticing that the seat next to his, normally occupied by Duquesne, was vacant… as was Lupin's. He growled under his breath, his underfed imagination creating all sorts of scenarios that made him bitterly jealous of the flea-bitten DADA professor. He almost didn't realize Dumbledore had stood up to make an announcement until he was already halfway through his first sentence.
"Good evening, all… and Happy Christmas!" he greeted the students and faculty alike. "We have a special treat for you all this year. As some of you may know, Professor Duquesne and several of your fellow students have been working very hard on a presentation for you. So before our supper makes its way to our tables I would like all of you to turn your full attention to Professor Duquesne."
Snape chided himself for not noticing the stage-like contraption to the right of the faculty table and directly in line with the students' tables so that no one had a blocked view. Chantal stood on the centre of it, wearing a bright crimson robe and smiling gently at the smaller Hufflepuffs directly in front of her. "Good evening, everyone, and, as they say in my country, joyeux noel. Your classmates, as well as a few of your teachers, have prepared a performance for you that promises to lift the Christmas spirit in every one of you. So, sit back, relax, and picture this…"
In a voice usually reserved only for hypnotists and the greatest of storytellers, Chantal began to tell a story. The smallest angel in all of the heavens was given a task… to find a gift for his Lord that properly expressed all of the good things that mortals had done since the first Christmas morning over 2000 years ago in Israel. The little angel searched everywhere, looked under pine trees and in stockings, in the generous donations of the fortunate and the festively decorated front lawns, and even in the countless churches. But he could not find the perfect gift for his Lord and the dawn was drawing near.
"And so the angel flew through the skies, trying urgently to think of something… anything… where he could look… what he could bring. When suddenly a sound reached his ears… it was the sound of church bells ringing out in the still night…"
As she had spoken, the flames from the various torches and lights on the trees had dimmed until only the ones that illuminated the "stage" remained. The heavy curtains of emerald green velvet behind her parted to reveal the students in a choir formation as she turned around slowly to assume the position of the conductor. The very first thing that Snape, and everyone else noticed, was the fact that not one student wore his House robes… each wore mundane clothing… jumpers and trousers for the boys and skirts for the girls. For all intents and purposes, they might have been students from any Muggle boarding school.
Four notes sounded lightly from the piano and Chantal's hands waved in and out gracefully, guiding her singers in their timing. First the high voices, sweet and twinkling like the stars… then the lower register of the altos, dark and rich… the dulcet tones of the tenors and the booming undercurrent of the baritones completed the tapestry of sound. Carol of the Bells, a carol he had heard several times before… but never like this. Every barely glowing flame in the hall swayed slowly in time with the music like a million tiny bells ringing with the voices of the choir members. The music quickly gained intensity as each voice was added, then slowly settled back into the chiming tones of bell-like quality. Snape's heart was suddenly thudding in his chest, matching the cadence of the music and rising to his throat. He swore that the floor shook gently as the baritones, including Hagrid, hit their last and lowest note.
After a brief pause, the hall burst into applause. The students on stage smiled widely and appeared to be whispering to each other furtively, congratulating each other on doing so well. Chantal slowly let her arms relax and Severus found himself clapping less and admiring the fact that instead of the loose, billowy sleeves that most robes boasted, she had chosen one with sleeves that clung to the subtle curves of her arms. A mental shake did little to tear his attention away from either the music or its lovely advocate. He had always had a bit of a soft spot for music… true music, not the grating, pounding trite that his students regularly listened to… he preferred classics, wizard and Muggle alike, although he would never admit it. Some of those "non-magical" composers had created supernatural sounds that even a former pureblood activist couldn't deny.
And then there were certain pureblood witches who seemed to possess the very same gift, he thought distantly as his eyes settled on Chantal's profile, admiring the way her hair caught the light in gleaming strands. The second Chantal turned back around to address the audience he snapped his eyes away guiltily.
"Simple church bells… and they called the angel down, pulling at him as certainly as any wizard summoning spell. And so the angel followed the sound of music through the world… stopping to listen to the carols that spoke to him in their soft and universal language. Some were ancient carols, ones that no living person could recall who wrote and were simply referred to as 'traditional' carols. Others were modern in lyric and tempo. But all held the same message, that the day that was soon to dawn was a day of celebration and reverence both." She explained before turning back around to her choir, which had shifted slightly to push Fred Weasley and a Slytherin girl named Patricia to the front, directly behind her. Snape furrowed his brow slightly at the notion of putting a Gryffindor and a Slytherin with such close proximity, crests or no.
The piano came to life under Sprout's hands, this time playing accompaniment for the carol instead of merely the starting notes. Patricia opened up in a surprisingly mellow alto, singing of the vastness of the skies and paralleling them to the vastness of love and hope. Almost at once, he felt himself settling in his chair, leaning back slightly and enjoying the placid tones of this quiet carol. The entire choir joining in on the refrain… candlelight, angel light, fire light, and star glow… shine on His cradle 'til breaking of dawn… Gloria, Gloria in excelsis Deo… angels are singing… the Christ child is born. A startlingly serious-faced Fred then took the melody, his tenor voice ringing out in something other than raucous laughter for once. He sang of the first Christmas night, of the angels and shepherds that came to see the baby, comparing the grandeur of the child's purpose to the simplicity of his birth. The choir again, this time stronger and in further harmony, adding in the adults to darker and strengthen the sound. They continued into the last verse, completing the tale of that night and reminded every soul present that despite what lay ahead for this child, at that moment he was only a baby being cradled by his mother.
Further applause, this time more prompt in coming. Severus found himself leaning forward in his chair, awaiting the next piece with baited breath. What could his insolent little witch have cooked up next? He paused… his witch? Since when? At what point had he become possessive? She was not his little witch! And quite frankly he couldn't comprehend of such an unlikely occurrence ever happening. He caught Dumbledore's gaze, watching him with that damnably knowing expression and he quickly sat back, very nearly giving himself whiplash in the process of trying to look innocent.
Chantal didn't bother with an introduction to the next piece and merely nodded at Sprout once the applause died down a bit. Only a mere half-dozen of singers stepped forward this time, each one Severus recognized as being a seventh-year student; sitting, standing, or kneeling variously on the stage and preparing to sing. Six notes this time… and Chantal moved her hands back and forth to give her handful of singers the tempo. A very cheerful rendition of Angels We Have Heard On High, which had once been a childhood favourite of Severus'. He found himself mouthing the words to it discreetly, secretly enjoying this new twist on the harmonies. No longer repetitious in its parts, each chorus was different from the preceding one although the theme remained the same… the movement of the voices shifted in new patterns. The singers no longer stared out at the audience, but moved and looked at each other and out of the audience, picking out people to look directly at, as though they were having a conversation… an element that added significant charm to the piece… as though the audience was a part of an intimate party rather than in a hall full of over one thousand students. Immediately this became his favourite piece thus far… once that he knew he would be humming before the night was out if he wasn't careful.
During the applause, the six each took a bow and then returned to their former spots on the stage. Three of the youngest singers approached, their faces a little pale, but their smiles willing enough. Chantal spoke briefly with them sotto voce and then prompted Sprout for a single note. The three first-years broke into a jaunty Here We Come A-Wassailing, the tempo quicker than normal, but evenly matched by each child even when they divided into two-part harmony. The choir came in once they were done their first verse, the baritones creating a vocal undercurrent of accompaniment and each proceeding part coming in with a different part of Joy To The World. The highest sopranos joined the three children in their song so that the two songs complimented each other lavishly… and to an almost jazzy effect. Snape found himself trying to follow each of the parts at once to little success. The lyrics that he knew so well were an impenetrable chaos… but the sound, the sound was a joyful noise that spoke without needing the lyric.
Another hit, by the sound of the clapping. The now blushing first-years retreated back to their places with flustered but pleased grins as Chantal indicated for of the choir to sit. Severus, his own applause diminishing, noted with narrowed eyes that Remus remained standing and slowly came to join her side. Luckily, for the sake of his grumbling jealousy, the two did not join hands or even look at each other yet. Sprout's piano started up again, this time a determinedly more modern sounding song.
Remus began, his borderline baritone voice telling of the carpenter Joseph and what he must have thought seeing an angel's prophecy come to life. "Why me? I'm just a simple man of trade. Why him? With all the rulers in world? Why here? Inside this stable filled with hay? Why her? She's just an ordinary girl. Now, I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say… but this is such a strange way to save the world."
Ordinary girl indeed, Severus scoffed under his breath… the first hint of displeasure he'd felt since this concert had started. But all irritation was erased when Chantal began to sing her part, the thoughts of Mary. He abruptly recalled her voice all too well from that late night in the kitchen when she'd shown him how she could levitate a rubber ball with the power of her voice. But now it was that of a woman; richer, darker… more sensual. God, how had he forgotten that sinfully striking voice? For several months of his angst-ridden adolescence he had dreamed of it… dreamed of the dazzling witch in front of him… a girl then, but a woman now. He swallowed over the lump in his throat, his eyes never leaving her face. Although he had contrived to be as cold as a blizzard to her, lest she get any ideas about further betraying him… he could not deny that time had only added to the beauty that had so completely enchanted him as a youth.
The two of them sang the last chorus together, with Remus keeping the melody and Chantal singing a gentle harmony behind him… the effect was warm and tender, as though they truly were the loving couple. They had finally approached each other, Remus standing behind her with his hands placed affectionately on her shoulders. Funny, she seemed smaller even next to the usually sickly-looking Lupin. Hell, the creature even had the nerve to look vaguely protective. Snape thought spitefully that it would be a completely different picture if it were just a week later. However, he mentally checked himself from gritting his teeth as applause followed their last notes. Remus thankfully returned to his spot next to Hagrid while Chantal returned to deliver her speech to the now utterly captivated audience.
"And now… the angel had his gift… for, as a Muggle writer once noticed… 'Music expresses that which cannot be said and upon which it is impossible to remain silent'F. Every carol that greeted the angel's spellbound ear was a gift in and of itself. And so, the angel reached up and plucked each song from the air, for angels are able to do such things. Dawn was nearly upon him, so he raced back to the Heavens to present his Lord with his hard-won gift. His Lord looked upon his smallest angel and smiled… pleased with this expression of all of the good that had been done on this day. On Christmas, wars temporarily cease, cathedrals are built, and hearts are at their most hopeful… and the music encompasses all of this. And so our story ends with the hope that every one of you here has rekindled that Christmas spirit. That each of you now realizes that Christmas is not about gifts under a tree, or a jolly elf in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer, or about turkey and puddings… it is about faith, hope, and love. And so we leave you with a vocal rendition of our Christmas present to you."
The lights dimmed to near extinction once more and after a brief moment of near-darkness, one by one, sparkling lights appeared on the stage. Small glass spheres, no bigger than a Snitch… each containing a single white flame and resting comfortably in the clasped hands of the singers. In front of Chantal was a similar globe, but this one was enormous by contrast and contained no flames at all. Severus swallowed as a sense of déjà vu washed over him, sending a fine tremble through him that he quickly squashed… what she trying to make him insane?
The choir started in its entirety, singing a song in Latin that sounded vaguely operatic, and as the stronger voices faded the younger children took up a new, repetitive melody. Then Ginny Weasley stepped forward timidly, the glass ball shaking slightly in her hands as she began to sing about the shepherds in the fields. Slowly, that ball lifted itself from her hands and floated up over the audience, floating to join the twinkling stars in the enchanted ceiling. Then Draco came in, singing O Little Town of Bethlehem, the younger voices still chanting behind him. With a surprisingly peaceful expression on his usually pinched face, his sphere floated up to join Ginny's in the same fashion. The choir shifted to another song, several more small, glass-enclosed flames leaving their owners' hands to join their predecessors twinkling above, a constant stream of tiny shooting stars in slow motion. Then Harry stepped forward, his little globe already hovering above his hand as he sang Once In Royal David's City, the choir behind him joining in as it soared to the ceiling. Hermione was next singing an old English song in a gentle voice, her sphere floating around Harry's teasingly on the way up. Remus took over Hermione with an exceedingly gentle What Child Is This? as the students continued her Coventry Carol under him. His own sphere virtually danced up to join the others. Suddenly Hagrid broke in with a heavy We Three Kings… Remus, Crabbe, and Goyle joining him as they did for the first piece, almost making the floor vibrate as their globes flew up. The choir returned as the three baritones sang, softening the roughness with I Saw Three Ships. In ones, twos, and threes, crystal and flame ascended up over the crowd, magnifying the enchanted ceiling by leaps and bounds, each light twinkling in time with its owner's voice. A brief pause in the music settled only to return with the men singing O Come To Bethlehem and the women singing The First Noel. Then Dumbledore came in… Away In A Manger… he sang while looking directly at the audience, his usually calm and kindly expression accented by the merry light in his eyes. The choir's chant behind him grew more intense, but his voice remained gentle as ever… sending his own crystal above the crowds and over enchanted faces. The women joined his carol as the choir gained momentum, every singing something different.
He breath had virtually stopped as he watched the stream of tiny stars float, fly, and dance up to the ceiling… circling over students' heads, illuminating each bedazzled face. It had been years since he had experienced anything like this… even as a child he had rarely been affected by the mood of the Christmas season. Like many children, his main purpose of the season was to please his parents in hopes of earning himself a bigger pile under the fir tree. This sensation of warmth and well-being was practically forgotten in his long-cold heart. He had grown used to a heart of stone, had almost come to enjoy the fact that emotions had little effect on him… in made him stronger, more capable. The awareness of a beating heart of flesh and blood bordered on painful.
He almost didn't notice the large orb of Chantal's rising as the voices grew, slowly soaring to the centre of the ceiling and the smaller ones circling around it in a flash of shooting stars, closing in so that he began to expect and dread the smash of broken glass. But no… the large globe let the smaller ones pass through it taking each tiny flame inside of it, the light growing intense. The voices reached fever pitch and suddenly everyone stopped.
A brief second of anticipating silence and then a hundred voices joined together is the traditional Latin of the carol commonly known as O Come All Ye Faithful, Chantal singing above them all in a sweet, angelically beautiful voice. Her crystal had engulfed all of the others and now shown above the hall as intensely as a tiny sun, lighting everything a brilliant white and sending shivers of almost divine presence down Snape's spine. The Star of Bethlehem… she had created the Star of Bethlehem for them all. His heart was pounding as warmth spread through him, even as some small part of him scowled at his own weakness, being affected so by mere tunes and a few fancy parlour tricks.
Slowly, imperceptibly, the choir calmed their once thunderous voices decreasing down into melodious whispers. The Star dimmed gradually, just enough so that it would not hurt the eyes of those it passed as it descended from the ceiling to float over the choir, shedding its light only on its precious singers. Soon, only the mild chanting of "Unto us a child is born today, in Bethlehem on Christmas Day" by the youngest singers remained. Then that faded out as well, the finale marked by a sudden flash from the Star and a subsequent eclipse as it burnt out entirely.
To say that the following applause was deafening would have been a gross understatement. Never in the history of Hogwarts has such a spectacle ever been staged. Students were teary-eyed and climbing over each other to congratulate their friends and fellow classmates. The Christmas spirit had certainly invaded Hogwarts now…
Snape found he had to escape it before he did or said anything he would live to regret later with fierce embarrassment. Without bothering to wait until after the feast or even for the commotion to settle down, he slipped away from the faculty table and took off for his chambers, fighting the urge to run there.
F This quote has been paraphrased from Victor Hugo… I couldn't find the actual quote.