Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling created the Harry Potter universe. I'm just playing with her toys, so to speak, and I hope I don't break them--or at least, that I don't break them too badly. =)
A/N: I know that I don't usually update with more than one chapter, but this is a special circumstance. The following two chapters were originally one long chapter, but I decided to break it up a bit on the grounds that so much happens.
Oh, and near the beginning of the chapter, something happens that I know is technically impossible, given that (I believe) in the canon it says that Peeves cannot enter the Great Hall. I thought it might be good for a comic effect, though, so I left it in. There's a further explanation for it later.
Chapter 8: And So This Is Christmas
Over the next two months, life went surprisingly smoothly for Geillis Gaerwing. There were no further attempts on her life, her classes were enjoyable to teach--even the Slytherins were tolerable, though she knew that she would never really like them, and vice versa--and though she wasn't exactly universally loved among the students and staff of Hogwarts, she managed to get along with most of them without any major problems.
Her growing friendship with Snape was the icing on the cake. Both were well-read, intelligent people, and they both had well-developed senses of humour, even though Snape effectively hid his under his usual sarcasm when other people were present. Neither could tolerate stupidity, though Geillis was more tactful in her expression of this dislike, and she was not so likely to believe that her students' mistakes were indicative of any mental deficiency, or of insolence. He taught her some of his favourite potions, though to his disgust she proved to be utterly dreadful at them. She taught him how to sing, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that he could actually carry a tune. There were rumours flying around the school that the two were romantically involved--Rolanda Hooch and Sybill Trelawney were continually giving her angry, hurt looks, to say nothing of Professor Sinistra (though admittedly, the Astronomy professor had never been fond of Geillis in the first place). Even Albus Dumbledore got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes whenever the two were mentioned in his hearing, but then, Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have a perpetual twinkle in them anyway, so Geillis paid little attention to that. The rumours were certainly not true; however, people would say what they wanted no matter what either of the parties concerned would do to convince them otherwise, so they had decided to say nothing whatsoever of the matter.
One morning, as Severus and Geillis sat talking during breakfast, he asked her if she was going to leave Hogwarts for the holidays. To be sure, he was uncertain whether or not he should ask; her husband had been killed almost two years ago, and speaking of the holidays might bring it to mind. And yet, it was a perverse sort of interest; on one hand, he was curious about whether or not Geillis would be staying, but on the other, he was afraid that he might not want to know the answer.
"No, I don't think so," she said, and he had to stop himself from sighing in relief. "I thought of visiting my cousin Julius, but he owled me this morning to tell me that Fudge was sending him on some crazy crusade over in Russia--searching for a rare species of dragon, I think, or something of the like. My parents are still living, but it may not be safe--for them or for me--if I were to visit them in Canada, so I might as well stay here. And you, Severus? Are you staying, or are you leaving for the holidays?"
"Oh, I never leave the school during the holidays," he said, his normally smooth voice taking on a slightly strained tone. Geillis decided to let the subject drop, as it was clear that her friend did not wish to think about it. She was about to change the subject when suddenly it was changed for her as a bowl of scrambled eggs flew up and hit her, spilling its contents all over her robes. "Drat that Peeves!" she muttered. Then, louder, she commanded, "Peeves, show yourself!"
Nobody, least of all the poltergeist, had ever heard that commanding tone in her voice before, and before he knew it he had become visible out of sheer surprise. And although Dumbledore could easily have put an end to the situation, he sat back and watched with interest, wand at the ready in case he should have to intervene.
"Why did you do that, Peeves?" she asked, feeling fairly peevish herself.
"I…um…" For once, the ghost was speechless.
"You, um, what?" Her voice was dangerous.
The pesky poltergeist made no reply.
"Do that again, Peeves, and I'll call the Bloody Baron. You know I can."
"Yes, m'm." The ghost's voice was scarcely above a whisper.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
"Did you have your fingers crossed behind your back, Peeves? Or your toes crossed in your shoes?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then take off your shoes, show me your hands, and promise me never to do that again."
McGonagall held back a laugh. Geillis was obviously a teacher to the bone.
The hall was silent as the ghost removed his spectral shoes, held up his hands, and said, "I promise never to do that again, Professor Gaerwing."
Geillis nodded. "Oh, and Peeves?"
"Yes, ma'am?" he asked, almost trembling as he put his shoes back on.
"Bugger off," she said.
Humiliated, the poltergeist floated away through the wall. Some later said that they heard him mutter, "I'll get her for this…"
"B-b-b-brava!" stuttered Professor Quirrell as the students and staff exploded with laughter--possibly one of the few times that laughter was ever caused by one of Peeves' pranks.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Snape--but not to Quirrell. On the spur of the moment, he took Geillis' hand and pressed it, then dropped it when he realized what he'd done.
Geillis smiled at him. "I take it I passed the test."
"I believe so." Snape smirked proudly.
Madam Hooch gave her a particularly venomous look.
***
Christmas Day arrived, and Geillis was tidying her rooms as she sang her favourite Muggle Christmas songs when she heard a knock on the harp. She sang a divination spell to see who it was, and smiled. "Come in," she said. The door slid open, and Professor Dumbledore stepped in.
"Hello, Geillis," he said. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Headmaster," she smiled. "What brings you here?"
"I merely wished to have a small chat with you. Oh, and I brought you something," he said, handing her a box wrapped in blue paper.
"Actually, I have something for you, too," she replied. "Hold on a minute while I get it," she said, hurrying into her bedroom.
Dumbledore took this opportunity to look around the small sitting room. There was a large couch opposite the window, through which the afternoon sun shone invitingly. The fireplace was well-maintained, and there were several photographs--both Muggle and magical--on the mantle. The green carpet was soft and thick, and three cats lay curled up together on a large, comfortable chair. Above the couch hung a large painting of a creek in the wintertime--all whites and blues and purples and icy greens, with the occasional grey or brown depicting a tree branch under the snow. The room was well-lit, as was her office, and had several candles set up in strategic places, with mirrors behind them to help intensify their light. There was also a small kerosene lamp on a table by the chair. An open sketchbook lay on the coffee table in front of the couch, and one wall was covered with an immense bookshelf, which was larger even than the one which stood in her office. It was filled with books of music--magical and otherwise--and poetry and history books and novels. This room was loved, and Dumbledore was glad to see it.
"Aha!" said Geillis. "Here it is." She emerged from the bedroom with another box, wrapped in yellow paper. They exchanged gifts, and opened them. "Oh, thank you, Headmaster!" she said. "I've been looking for this book for ages--I hear it's got some great old songs in it."
"I'm glad you liked it, Geillis. And how did you know that I needed more warm socks?"
"I asked Minerva. She told me that you were always complaining about your cold feet, so I knitted these for you."
He smiled. "Thank you, child. I very much appreciate it."
"You're very welcome."
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, and then spoke. "I suppose that you have something for Severus as well?"
She nodded. "Yes, but only if he wants it. I've noticed that Christmas is a very touchy subject with him."
"It is, and I can't say that I blame him. His classmates, you may recall, tormented him to no end. He only really ever got any peace at Christmas time, and that was because his parents would not have him back at home."
"Oh, dear. Is that why he's so bitter? He's never told me, and I never asked." She felt absolutely idiotic saying this, but she could find no other words.
"No, child, it is not--at least, it is not the entire cause. You know about his past, do you not?"
Geillis was confused. "Not very much, I'm afraid. All I know is what you've told me now, and that he's done several things which he regrets."
"That is true, child. I think that he should be the one to tell you about those things, however; it is not mine to say what he may wish to keep hidden. I must tell you, though, that even though who and what he was affects who and what he is, it is not the sum total of his being. Think of this when you hear it, child. Remember that I trust him."
It was a few moments before Geillis replied. What on Earth could the Headmaster mean by this? Finally, she spoke. "Thanks, I think. I'm glad that you told me about his family, though; I'd never have asked him myself, since the very mention of Christmas is usually enough to make him withdraw into that shell of his. I was extremely surprised when he asked me to accompany him to the Christmas banquet, to tell the truth. But at least now I can sort of understand…" she trailed off, and her face took on a half-wistful, half-sad cast.
"What is it, child?" asked Dumbledore.
"Sorry. I was just thinking about my husband. Two years ago we were so happy; it was our first Christmas as a married couple. We thought it would be the first of many. The news had come the week before that I was a few months pregnant, and we were arguing--playfully, of course--about names for the child. We were about as happy as we could be." She fell silent again.
Dumbledore asked, "Would you like to talk about what happened, or would you rather not?"
She sighed. "I guess I might as well continue, if you really want to hear so sad a story at Christmas."
"If you believe that it will help you, child, I would gladly listen."
She took a deep breath, and then let it out again. "Very well. Not a month after our only Christmas, my husband was killed. He and his best friend, who was a Potions teacher, were demonstrating a new fireless light potion that they had developed together. One of the ingredients was replaced with a substance which would explode on contact with the rest of the potion. Nathan--my husband--and his friend perished instantly. That night, I found a threatening note in my letterbox. I had been warned that the pregnancy was a dangerous one, and that any shock might cause me to lose the child. That prediction was only too true; I miscarried, and the sickness that I had afterwards nearly killed me. The only thing which kept me from giving up the ghost was the fact that if I died, my enemy had won by causing the deaths of both my husband and I."
Dumbledore nodded. "Does Severus know of this?"
"I told him about my husband, yes, but not the child. That grief was still too strong. Why?"
"No reason. By the way, exactly what is the nature of your relationship with him? One hears rumours, after all."
Her head snapped up at that. "The rumours have little basis in fact, Headmaster," she said. "We have become, if not friends, at least something resembling friends. I love him dearly as such, but we have never given each other--or anybody else, for that matter--any reason to believe that we are anything but friends."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Well, I'm glad that you two have reached some sort of understanding, anyway. By the way, has he ever met your cats?"
"Yes, in fact, he has. They absolutely adore him. Why do you ask?"
"Simple curiosity. Normally, he can't stand cats." He stood up. "I'll be off, now. Thank you for the socks."
"And thank you for the book. I'll see you at dinner."
"Indeed." Dumbledore stepped through the harp-door and was gone.
A/N: Okay, I know that the Incident With Peeves is impossible. I had fun writing it anyway; in any case, it just sort of happened. My only explanation for the fact that the other teachers don't step in is perhaps they were curious about what Geillis was going to do, so they just sat back and kept their noses--hooked and otherwise--out of it. I'm sure that most of them had their wands ready just in case, though.
And now for the usual explanatory note. (Aren't they fun?) First of all, the title comes from the song "Happy Christmas (War is Over)", which is by John Lennon and Yoko Ono. It's been one of my favourites for years.
The mention of the rumours of a pairing is one of the ways in which I'm trying to deal with a certain moral quandary in regards to this fic. As I've said before, I've been desperately trying to avoid the dreaded Curse of the Mary-Sues, and that seems to be what most of the Canon Character/Original Character fics end up being. In my editing, I've been trying to get rid of the SS/OC elements of this story, but I find that I can't really delete too many of them without completely changing the story. This is, in fact, the reason why I asked if I should "remove this story before it contaminates FanFiction.net". I figured that if the first chapter wasn't too bad, there might be some hope for the rest of my story, small as that hope may be.
The painting in Geillis' sitting room is another painting by my artist friend; it's called "Coldwater Creek", and it currently hangs in my living room. (It was, in fact, commissioned by my mom; our families have been friends for a long, long time.) Again, it technically shouldn't exist during this story, as it wasn't begun until late 2002.
I had Geillis give Dumbledore socks because of that complaint of his when he's talking to Harry about the mirror of Erised. Dumbledore's one of my favourite characters, and I wanted him to get the one thing on his Christmas list for a change. I figured that even if he couldn't in the canon, he could in my poor effort at a story. =)
I apologize for the rather soppy explanation for Snape's bitterness. I realize that there has to be more to it than that, but this is really the best that I could come up with for now.
In Geillis' telling of her story, she mentions a sickness after miscarriage. This is borrowed from Diana Gabaldon's "Dragonfly in Amber", where Claire Fraser nearly dies of a fever after miscarrying her first child.
Oh, and Geillis has three cats; their names, though they never directly appear in this story, are Bishop (short-haired, white with black spots and an extra toe on both his front feet), Hailey (short-haired, all black), and April (short-haired, somewhat overweight brown tabby with a lot of orange as well). When she returned to the U.K., she had them quarantined for the required amount of time, but they have been with her for the entire story because she spent about a year and a half in hiding with her cousin Julius, during which time they were returned to her. They don't have any function as familiars or anything like that; she has a grey owl by the name of Archie (named after Archie Belaney, the conservationist who, though he was English by birth, posed as an Aboriginal named Grey Owl for much of his life) who serves that purpose.