"I curse you, Potter, for binding me to this half life!"
The cold hands on Penny's face shook slightly as he said the words as though he were trying to imbue them with the force of the feelings he associated with them.
Brain somewhat sluggish, Penny merely stared at him, the moonlight hardening all the lines on one half his face and softening the other. It was a reflection of the contradiction in him, the one that he refused to see and Penny refused to tolerate.
"Well I curse you for selecting this moment—when I'm confused as hell how I ended up in the Hospital Wing—to feel so inclined to finally express your love for me, but only as a reason you are angry. Because Merlin-forbid you ever just say, I love you, Penny, without some caveat."
The grip on her face slackened, his hands dropping away and the features that were so full of emotion seconds prior, now stony.
"Could you expect me to rejoice in the admission of such a thing —to congratulate myself for taking every wretched thing I have accomplished with these loathsome hands and tossing them at your feet like the reality of the life I chose does not tarnish everything I touch!" he spat, getting to his feet so abruptly the chair behind him clattered to the floor, making Fleamont hiss loudly.
Anger welled in the pit of Penny's empty stomach. On their own, his words were sincere, full of a kind of love Penny barely comprehended, but Snape had them so tightly intertwined with his anger that they slashed at her heart, making her feel like he was trying to push her away yet again.
Did he have such little regard for what her heart had been dragged through the last several months? Was ensuring his control more important to him than Penny?
"How long will you insist on perpetuating your own purgatory? Make me understand why you have taken such pains to construct your own hell and then locked yourself inside! I promise you the gate is wide and open, you can be free whenever you choose!" Penny insisted, tossing her feet over the side of the bed making to follow him to her feet, but a well placed hand to her chest forced her back down.
"And how long will you delude yourself into selecting those pieces of me which suit the fantasy you have constructed! If I were a free man, I would not return to the darkness as often as I am beckoned! You have only ever known me within these walls, but you know little of what I am outside of them—"
"You're a bloody spy! All I need to know is that everything you do is at great personal risk to yourself. Even you can't turn such courage into a vice, no matter how much you despise the traits of my house!"
"Mine is not a role one simply picks up and puts down at their leisure, Potter! Not if I wish to continue living. Nor is it a skill learned through study. Has it not occurred to you that I am so good at what I do, because there is no hesitation when I blacken my soul with the deeds the Dark Lord commands!" His voice told her he was angry, but his eyes were wary, afraid almost. He was not as resolved as he normally would be if he was truly set on pushing her away. Reluctance was her ally.
But more pressing to Penny was the fact something inside of him seemed to have snapped; what had changed in the time between her standing on that podium and arriving here? Surely she had only passed out, possibly from her panic. Why would that have set him off? Still, she found his argument grating—an insult to all they'd been through. Why was he so intent on insisting that she did not believe in him, as though she wasn't the person always on the receiving end of the best of him.
Her hand clamped tightly around the one holding her in place. His eyes shut in response as though he were a man steeling himself against his vice—doing his best to resist that which was most intoxicating to him.
"He commands being the key phrase there; you did not choose this! But only you can decide if doing what is needed to free the world from that vile monster will blacken your soul. Regardless, I will pull you from the ashes of yourself as often as you need. But, I would argue that the fact you feel the weight of it should be enough to convince that you are not guilty of the evil you think you are—"
His eyes snapped open, evidently free of her sway and instead pulled back into that keep he hid himself when he did not want her to reach him. "Men like me are the reason you are an orphan!" Snape all but yelled, looking suddenly deranged. There was a wildness in his eyes—the kind a horse adopts when the predator nears but from which direction it knows not.
"Men like you, not you, yourself!" Penny yelled right back, prying the hand from her chest away to try, for the second time, to get to her feet. She did not like him towering over her like she was some naive child who needed to be reprimanded and told what life was actually about.
"You do not know what I did, what I must still do—" His voice was strangled with emotion, but his hands bound her in fury.
Clasping her wrists, he forced her backwards, pinning them to either side of her head. His breathing was haggard, blowing the smell of stale spirits across her face, every muscle in his face contracted, as though looking upon hers caused him pain.
"Then unburden yourself. But if you refuse, do not pretend it's because I spurned you—it was you that built the wall between us with your own hands," Penny pleaded, almost frustrated to tears.
She found herself completely thrown off balance by the turn the conversation had taken, and on top of what she thought she'd just experienced with Adrian—her heart was screaming in alarm. Why had everything turned upside down all at once without her consent?
The strength with which he pinned her to the bed made Penny feel helpless, not because he had the advantage in stature but because it reminded her that it had always been he who dictated their relationship, and she who was constantly left trying to scramble and adapt to him and his whims without ever really knowing why he alternated between such extremes.
Was not love supposed to be steadfast? They'd been through this too many times, but recently she'd felt things had changed, he'd changed, or resigned rather; to the fact she wasn't going anywhere. But Penny refused to believe it was only her stubbornness pushing them forward. Had he not made the choice to show up? How easy would it have been for him to disappear over the summer, it's not like she would have complained being free of his critique on the choice of her activities. And yet, he'd been there in a way no one else had. That's why Penny was convinced that they were bound by this path they were on, not because they were forced onto it, but because the need to be near the other was stronger than any other pull in their life.
Snape had become the thing with which Penny trusted above all else. He was that essential stone to the foundation of her sanity. The prospect of him up and leaving like her Mum, Dad, Sirius. . and Lupin had, it sent her tumbling into terrified chaos.
"Exactly, Potter. I am the author of my own demise! Everything I have done thus far, I did on my own! I do not regret it all, even what came at great personal sacrifice because that which I have lost was wrought by nothing other than my own hands. You could not begin to fathom the kind of motivation to be found in that blame—a need to never fail the same way twice. You, Penny Potter—how can you understand when you are the only thing to ever render me so infuriatingly helpless!" He spoke her last name with a vehemence that spanned a lifetime of hatred; like there was nothing on the planet that could redeem her from such an association; that he found nothing more loathsome.
"How have I made you helpless? If you refuse to open up to me because you are afraid, that has nothing to do with me—"She struggled, wanting to smash some sense into the man.
"It has everything to do with you!" he yelled, raising her arms by the wrists and slamming them back into the bed a second time with such force Penny stopped in her tracks, the breath knocked from her lungs. His face barely inches from her own, Penny held very still, the heart in her chest hammering in rhythm with his huffing. "You are the reason for all that I do! " he went on, voice quivering, but whether in fury or agony, Penny could not tell. Trapped in the deep pools of black before her, Penny waited with bated breath. "My wakings, comings and goings; restless nights; breathing and existing—you!—it is then some divine comedy that it would be you that would be my undoing—the damnation of my heart that I find myself lacking any desire to overcome!"
Fleamont appeared on Penny's pillow, his back arched and letting loose a low warning growl. His large eyes watched Snape warily, but remained where he was, both Snape and Penny too engrossed in the other to notice him.
"You would resent me for existing?" she said quietly, the heart in her chest confused and wounded.
On the one hand she thought he was saying that she was the most important person in his life, and his words, they might be a confession of this—but on the other he souded like he sought freedom from her, blamed her for his misery.
"Resent you! How far you are from the truth must you insist on staying! The only thing I have ever resented, Potter, is that it would be a mockery coming from my lips; the same lips that so readily whisper lies into the darkness. And yet, for all the time I have spent doing that which no one else could, I still cannot perform this simple task because I am not able to tear myself from you!"
"So quit trying. Haven't you figured it out yet, I'm not going anywhere because I-Don't-Want-To! You have spent your life chasing after accolades, but what have they given you? I think you are afraid now because you've realized just how pointless and empty—"
"They offered me peace!" he interjected, spraying her with spit.
"How!" she demanded, feeling again the fire ignite in her chest. She would force him to explain himself; refuse to allow him the ease of simply leaving his reasoning to his own judgment. Let his logic convict him.
"Through a purpose! If I was chasing them—there was something left for me—but with you, there is not a shred of peace, only that endless nagging—"
"There is love. There is only love, and that is something! Why have you painted a picture of me that insists on depicting me as something other than what I have always been. Why can you not allow yourself to see how much I admire you, how every part of me would give anything for your happiness," she pressed. He was a man broken, that much was obvious. If she could just keep at it until he finally let it go, accepted that her love for him was not as awful as he led himself to believe.
"Because I have been and will always remain, unworthy! I cannot endure another moment—knowing it is wasted on me—where this ultimately ends up—the truth—" It was a garbled mess of unfinished thoughts all melding into the other. Something she should be used to but was no less infatuating. Could he not afford her the courtesy of forming a complete sentence?
"I don't even know what that means because you refuse to explain anything and I'm so sick of it! Sit quietly, Penny, the grown ups know best. Well this is my life! Mine! Not yours, and it's I who gets to decide what I want and don't want—what's worthy, as you say. And right now I want you to stop treating me like a doll only ever to be admired. I don't need you to protect me, I need you to respect me. We've gone too far down this road to turn back now!"
"And if I now tread a path you cannot follow?"
"Then I will wait at the end of it for you."
"No, Potter. Not even you will be able to find a way back for me this time. I have ventured too far into the darkness and found the cost too great."
"I am not afraid."
"Then you are a fool."
"The only fool here is you for thinking the lines are so clearly defined. But you forget that sometimes to find the light we must first touch the darkness," Penny breathed, moving the only thing she could, her neck. Eyes flashing with the ferocity with which she believed those words, hoping somehow being this close would prevent him from ignoring it, denying the truth that was right before him.
His lip curled, but not in annoyance, the look on his face resembled more disgust or self-loathing, like her words were a reflection of the worst of him rather than the appeal she'd intended them to be.
"No." he said, quietly at first, pressing his eyes closed. "No!" he said again, the struggle evident in his voice. Pressing his forehead against hers and crushing her beneath the weight of him, his fingernails digging into her wrists, he screamed "NO!" a third time. Penny not entirely sure who he was trying to convince, her or him, but she felt herself involuntarily closing her eyes, every muscle within her relaxing from nearness. He was not lost, not yet—
A wave of bliss rushed through her body, desperation along with it. If she could only hang onto this, keep him this close forever then she thought she might be able to do it; endure whatever else was to come. But the door behind them creaked, and the moment was broken—Snape standing at the end of her bed, looking toward their intruder, Penny quickly rolling over in her bed, trying to get a handle on her breathing, and Fleamont relaxing, pressing his face between Penny's arms to find her face, as though to check she had not been maimed.
"Oh, I did not realize you would be here, sir. I just wanted to check on Penny," came the calming tones of Adrian, sending Fleamont on alert. He poked his head up to peer toward the door, and then disappeared with a quiet pop.
"She's awake," was Snape's response.
Penny closed her eyes, cursing Snape internally. He was fleeing like a coward because he knew he'd lost to her. He was now resorting to outing her so he could escape without finishing their conversation.
"A-are you sure?"
"Does one normally hold a conversation while in a coma, Mr. Martikov?" Snape said, returning to his customary tone of dislike.
However much Penny had unsettled him seconds before, he'd already returned to his keep, now hidden behind that composure of his. All her efforts, dashed by the horrible timing of Adrian.
"Penny?"
Knowing there was no point in pretending, Penny turned over, and concealed by the darkness looked at Snape, his head turned only slightly in her direction. His jaw was taught and his shoulders stiff. Penny wanted to reach out to him and make him relent, but Adrian was reaching for her, the back of his hand brushing her cheek as though checking for a fever.
The hands at Snape's sides twitched and she felt a twinge of vindictive pleasure observing his displeasure. Did he wish it was him touching her cheek or did he merely exist to ensure no one else?
Whatever it was it didn't matter because his cloak was billowing behind him.
"Sir?" Penny said, unable to keep the trepidation from her voice.
He paused, but did not turn. "The headmaster will want to be made aware that you have woken." And then he was gone, leaving Penny alone with her tumultuous emotions, confusion and Adrian.
"Was it real?" she said to him after a long silence.
"You remember?" he asked, sounding surprised.
"I remember you pulling me from that tunnel, that monster, and us jumping. . ." Penny said, brows furrowed as she did her best to recall the memories of that terrible encounter. "What was that?" she asked, finally looking at Adrian. His eyes were distant, calculating almost, but as soon as they registered she'd turned, they looked back at her with a distinct softness.
"It was a Will-o'-the-wisp."
"I've never heard of that."
"It's like a hinkypunk, except instead of luring you into a bog, it lures prey into the inbetween. They typically resemble those which we love, and those in grief are, for obvious reasons, their targets of choice."
"But I was standing in the Great Hall, wasn't I? You saw me. What happened. . .I don't understand any of it."
"You were. And then you collapsed. At first, the teachers thought you merely fainted, but I knew exactly what had happened because of our link. You entered the paths."
"How?" Penny said, flabbergasted. "You've been trying to help me get there for a month now and I've never been relentlessly unsuccessful!"
"You finally quieted your mind," Adrian shrugged with a small smile. I was going to follow you, but by the time I made it through Professor Snape and reached your collapsed form, you were already convulsing. That's when I knew something had gone wrong."
"Yeah, can't imagine why, seeing as you failed to mention that beast—" Penny said sourly.
"I didn't mention it because you never mentioned seeing a Will-o'-the-wisp before!" Adrian said defensively.
"I've never seen that thing before!"
"Of course you hadn't seen its true form. But have you ever seen the light that led you to it?"
"Oh. That's part of it?"
"Yes, it's the lure."
"I saw it last year after-after Cedric— my boyfriend. . .died," Penny admitted.
His hand gave hers a little squeeze, brown eyes softening empathetically. "It is fortuitous then, that it did not get a hold of you until now."
"What would have happened?" Penny asked, rolling onto her side now, completely absorbed in everything Adrian had to say. It was a morbid curiosity, wanting to know exactly what she'd barely escaped thanks to Adrian.
"Well, we can do no more than guess, because those who become part of the inbetween never leave again. But the inbetween, it is much like what you call purgatory, and at the end of that purgatory is hell. Think of it as a gate, a gate that transforms you into a servant of hell."
"That place of eternal damnation all those evangelical bigots rave on about, really?" Penny said skeptically. Since becoming a wizard she'd come to believe in much she never thought she would, but hell was a bit of a stretch even for her.
"Muggles make up all sorts of fantasies in order to refuse to believe in magic. Hell is merely the name of the realm of the endless named death."
His words sent a crippling chill up Penny's spine. There he was again, death.
"Why do you say death as though it is an entity and not a fact of life," Penny asked, trying to conceal how afraid she was of his answer.
"Because he is an entity. All the endless are. Death, Destiny, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair and Delirium, they are the endless, and they govern much of our everyday lives," Adrian said as simply as if he were naming the countries of the world.
"Are you telling me I was nearly lured into the kingdom of death? Why would they want me! And if death lives in hell then where does that bridge go? Are you telling me when people die they go there!?" Penny said, bolting upright, thinking of her father and Sirius. Neither looked like a servant of hell, but then again, that light didn't either.
"I'm sorry, it's a lot to take in. I'd hoped to explain all this when we finally got you into the paths, it's easier to understand there," Adrian frowned "But no, people do not go to hell when they die, they pass onto the other side. The bridge you saw leads there, and death has no dominion there. Because of that, death resorts to luring the unsuspecting to be servants for his kingdom. And you are an untrained seer of a great lineage of seers, I can think of many reasons they would want you. But I think in this case, it was merely coincidence considering you have recently lost people you loved."
"So will I need to be looking over my back for that creature to come try again?"
"No," Adrian assured her, taking her hand in his. "Before I severed our connection, I placed wards for you. So you need not worry about it finding you again."
"And how effective are these wards?" Penny pressed, eyes narrowed.
"Very effective," he laughed.
"It seems I owe you doubly," Penny sighed in relief
"You owe me nothing. I am your guide and just glad you woke up. For a while there—Well you're awake now."
"Why is everyone acting like I just came back from the dead, and what did Snape mean by a coma? It can't have been more than a day."
Adrian shifted uncomfortably before her, casting his eyes toward the floor. "Did Professor Snape not tell you?" he said uneasily.
"Tell me what?"
"Penny, you have been unconscious for two months," he said apologetically.
"What do you mean two months! What day is it?"
"It will be Christmas Eve in a couple hours."
"B-but it was just October. It can't be December—it was October 9th and Harry's game is tomorrow," Penny insisted. There was no possible way it could already be December. What about Halloween? She loved Halloween, she can't have missed the feast!
"Harry won that game. Term has ended and everyone has gone back to be with their families," Adrian said sadly, placing a steading hand on her shoulder and pointing to the window.
Getting to her feet, Penny walked her way over, feeling a little too unsteady, like her brain forgot what it meant to use her legs. Peering out at the grounds, she found it covered in a shimmering blanket of snow. The stars glimmered in the cloudless sky, and Hagrid's hut glowed orange from the light inside. The path leading to it and the lake were lined with the Christmas decorations, the lights alternating between red and gold.
"And you, were you unconscious for two months?" Penny asked, uncertain how she felt. She'd lost time in her life for the second time, and it did not feel any easier, though it explained why Snape had decided to be so dramatic.
"No, I returned as soon as we jumped. . ." His looked upward at the few stars visible from where they were standing, his warm breath fogging the glass.
"Do you know why I. . ." She couldn't say the words because it felt like giving up if she admitted to it. And maybe if she refused, time would allow her to go back and take what was rightfully hers.
"I wish I did. We tried everything—nothing worked, until tonight. Do you know what woke you?"
"N-no. The last thing I remembered was us jumping. . .Two months," she repeated, running her hand through her hair.
"You're here now, Penny. Awake. This is real," he said, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and forcing her to look at him. It was like he could read her mind; knew exactly how she was questioning her own grip on reality.
"It's too much to take in, Adrian," Penny admitted, pushing through his hold to hide herself against his chest, the first tear breaking through the barricade.
"Then let it be. We don't have to discuss it all right now, I can go into whatever detail you want later. Right now, just let it be Chritmas."
"You promise?"
"Pinky promise" he whispered into her hair, taking her pinky in his.
Penny stayed like this until she got a handle on her emotions. And thankfully Adrian did not press her, he merely let her be until she pulled away and glanced out the window again. There was something incredibly soothing about the sight of Hagrid's cabin. It reminded her of all the wintry days she'd spent there with Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Where's Harry?" Penny said, looking around the room as though she'd just missed him.
"Dumbledore made him go with that friend of his after promising to tell him if you woke up."
She'd known the answer before Adrian even spoke it, Penny's mind searching frantically for that warm, calming presence and finding Hogwarts empty. His absence left a sense of loneliness inside of her. It was not right to be separated on Christmas. The thought filled her with the urgent need to go to him and find the comfort only he offered. She could not remain here, not on their first Christmas without Sirius—it was a pain Penny could not endure alone.
"I need to see Dumbledore," Penny said suddenly.
"Professor Dumbledore," a kind voice corrected.
Head spinning, Penny found him and started toward him but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop her. "I promise not to go anywhere, Miss Potter, until you have said whatever is weighing so heavily on you. And while I am glad to see that you are awake, I must insist you return to bed or Poppy will be greatly displeased with me."
Nodding, Penny climbed back into bed, the world spinning just slightly when she did so.
"Good evening headmaster," Adrian said, remaining where he was.
"Mr. Martikov, I should have known you would be the first by her side when she awoke," Dumbledore said, his tone decidedly less welcoming than the one he used with Penny.
"You are only half right, sir. It was Professor Snape who was here when she awoke."
"Ah, yes. Severus does have a knack for being there when Miss Potter most needs him," Dumbledore replied with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "If you would not mind, I would like to speak to Miss Potter and I daresay you are eager for your bed."
Adrian nodded, his normally easy expression hard. It was an odd exchange, one Penny did not understand, but when Adrian turned back to her, it was with those bright eyes and soft smile he always wore. "Happy Christmas, Penny," he said, giving her a bright smile before taking his leave.
"It is a happy Christmas indeed," Dumbledore mused, having taken the empty seat beside Penny's bed. To Penny's horror, when she turned back to her headmaster, she found his blue eyes glistening and a tear trailing its way along his cheek.
"It's not like I died, sir," Penny said in embarrassment.
"No. Life has much left in store for you, I think. But you will permit an old man a moment of introspection, I hope. I have had the great pleasure of seeing many students come and go from these walls, among them your own parents. The vast majority have led normal teenage lives with normal teenage problems, with a few exceptions," he told her, pulling out his handkerchief and blotting his eyes. "But you, Miss Potter, are an anomaly. For all I wished to do for you, I accomplished none and it is you who suffered for it."
"But, sir, you can't possibly—"
"I can and I do," he replied, as though he knew precisely what it was she was going to argue. "And in this case, I will abuse my position as headmaster to insist you accept my apology."
"I suppose it would be rude to argue with you about it on Christmas. . ."
"Precisely. The time we have with those we love, Penny, is always much shorter than we anticipate and often we find when we lose those people, that the arguments we allowed to take up so much of the time we had with them, then take up an exorbitant amount of our memories of them. Saying that, I hope you will not only remember my failures."
Feeling this was a truly peculiar thing to say and probably more well suited to a death bed, Penny let out a chuckle. Only Dumbledore, being the strange man he was, would endeavor on such a line of conversation on Christmas Eve. "I think someone would have to try very hard to remember you with anything other than fondness. But if you are worried, I promise to remember you for making Hogwarts always feel like home. Oh, and those really delicious candies you have in your office."
"Thank you, Penny" Dumbledore said, dabbing his eyes again and mortifying Penny. She did not understand how this conversation had become emotional. Was she not just the sister of his favorite student, Harry? It was all too much to take in all in one day, so she looked at her fingers until he said, "Now, I promised to hear you out," voice, thankfully, lighter.
"It's Christmas Eve,"
"So it is in," —he checked the watch he pulled from his pocket— "in 1 hour, 3 minutes and 27 seconds."
"And Harry is at the Weasleys. . ." Why was this request so hard to make?
"Yes, he was quite displeased with me for suggesting he go, but it seems Mr. Weasley was able to convince him a little time away would be healthy."
"I want to spend Christmas with him," Penny blurted out. "Please, sir," Penny pleaded.
"I do not imagine Madam Pomfrey will be very happy with me," Dumbledore said, tilting his head downward to peer at her through his half-moon spectacles, sending the heart in Penny's chest plummeting through her stomach. "But, assuming everything is in check, I do not think even she could argue against the therapeutic nature of a holiday spent with your family," he said, getting to his feet and giving her a warm smile.
Madam Pomfrey made her very best effort to keep Penny as her prisoner for the rest of the holiday, something Penny objected to profusely. Thankfully, Dumbledore was more diplomatic than Penny, and after confirming that all of Penny's vitals were good, and agreeing to allow Pomfrey to monitor Penny into the morning, he succeeded in securing Penny her freedom, under the condition he would escort Penny to the Burrow himself, incase the travel made Penny feel ill again.
Being very untired, and not at all thrilled by the idea of closing her eyes again due to the fear she may not wake again, Penny whittled away the dreadfully long hours reading all the cards and notes her friends had left on her bedside until the glorious moment she found herself in her Hogwarts traveling cloak and bound tightly in a Gryffindor scarf.
The halls were decked in the normal Christmas decorations, making Penny feel like she was in the twilight zone. Two months really had passed. She peeked into the Great Hall to admire the 12 Christmas trees that adorned it. She always loved those tree's, and this year they were decorated with pink and gold ornaments, singing fae fluttering through their branches.
Eyes turning instinctively to the table hoping to catch Snape before she left, her heart sank when she found several people eating their breakfast together at the single table, Professor Snape not among them. He had not returned after his departure the previous night, and it seemed he really was intent on avoiding her if he even refused to say goodbye on Christmas. Was it an omen of what was to come, or would they make it through this one like they always did?
The be-spectacled eyes of her head of house caught sight of Penny. Pushing her chair out from beneath her, she left the table and made straight for her.
"Happy Christmas, Professor," Penny said.
Professor McGonagall stopped, her gaze scanning Penny severely. It made Penny's inside squirm and feel instantly guilty. Was she going to be reprimanded for something? But then Professor McGonagall did a most peculiar thing; something that made Penny freeze in place. She stepped forward, her two arms wrapping their way around Penny, and she hugged her.
"It is a Happy Christmas, indeed, Miss Potter," she said quietly to Penny, who realizing what was going on, quickly hugged her Professor back.
Hers was a hug unlike the others Penny had received, not that Penny was hugged often. It was firm and somewhat stiff like the rest of Professor McGonagall. Regardless, it conveyed the worry she'd been harboring for the last two months and the relief she now felt looking at Penny.
They broke apart when another joined them.
"Happy Christmas, Minerva. I trust you will look after everything while I escort Miss Potter to the Weasley's. Do be sure to try the crackers, I got them from Rosmerta, and she assured me they would be most amusing."
Twenty minutes and a crisp walk later, Penny arrived by side-along apparition at the Burrow. The sight of it was picturesque. Nestled in the snow, the chimney huffing with warmth—Penny had never seen anything more inviting. The sight of it made the wayward heart in Penny's chest a little calmer, and the aching a little duller.
"In my youth, I never cared for holidays much. Too busy doing this or that. I think I rather resented them for making me slow down," Dumbledore mused out loud.
"You?" Penny said in disbelief. "But you've always been the most festive among the staff the years I've stayed at Hogwarts."
"As to be expected, losing my family made me turn over a new leaf," Dumbledore said, and Penny couldn't help but notice a distinct note of sadness in his voice as he watched the smoke from the chimney billow into the morning sky, his normally twinkly eyes dim.
"Why don't you come in, sir. I know everyone would love to have you."
Looking down at her and returning the kind smile to his face, he said, "I have had the privilege to share Christmas with those students much like yourself, do not have places to return to, for more years than you have been alive. And in those years I have come to see that it is often those who have the least that have the most to teach us. I think I should like to be a pupil one last time."
"If you're sure. . ." Penny said, eyebrows wrinkled because she did not have the faintest idea what that was supposed to mean, but this seemed to only make his smile widen. And with a pat on the shoulder and "Happy Christmas," Dumbledore disappeared with a pop, leaving Penny alone in the chill of the morning.
The sun was just making it across the horizon, sending rays of golden light scattering across the blanket of snow. With an overwhelming sense of contentment, Penny made her way to the door and knocked lightly, hoping someone would be awake because she was already shivering from the cold.
Stirring within followed by the clicking of the locks, the door swung open before her. Expecting to find Mrs. Weasley's face looking back at her, Penny flashed her most brilliant smile as though to say 'surprise'. But the person looking back at her was not Mrs. Weasley. Shirtless, rubbing his tired eyes and hair a mess, Remus stared at her as though he were not quite sure he was looking at what his eyes told him he was.
The hand at his eye fell away in shock, his mouth agape, like he intended to say something but the words had gotten lost in his throat. And then, Penny's own smile faltering beneath the silence and surprise of finding him here; he crossed the threshold in a single step and pulled Penny into his chest, engulfing her in that familiar warmth with the natural ease of someone who had done so thousands of times before. His arms crushed the breath from her lungs, and his face buried itself into her hair; letting out a shuddering sigh.
"I would question why it was a Christmas angel granted the one wish of a wretched, unworthy, old man, were I not so afraid you might disappear again if I allowed anything other than the pure joy seeing you elicits, color this moment."
His was the embrace Penny had longed for—needed above any other after Sirius passed. They were the arms that she'd become accustomed to making all her pain go away; making the world bright again when she could not see through her despair. She felt none of that relief now, only the agony the memory of how it felt elicited because she wished, despite what he'd done, she could feel it now. Even just for a moment. But instead, that wound he'd left in her heart, it throbbed angrily as though he were picking the stitches from it one at a time.
"Remus, you're letting all the cold air in. What're you—" Mrs. Weasley chided from the doorway.
Lupin released Penny and moved to his right, giving Mrs. Weasley a direct view of her. The woman gasped, dropping the tray she was holding and sending the dishes clattering to the floor. Lupin's gentle hand on Penny's shoulder coaxed her forward, as a cold dose of guilt washed over Penny watching large tears well in Mrs. Weasley's eyes. She hated knowing she made the kind woman worry so.
Despite feeling awkward about it because she was not the one normally initiating hugs, Penny sank into her chest and wrapped her arms around her. "Sorry I'm late," she said.
"Don't be ridiculous, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, squeezing Penny much in the way Remus had done, but less painfully. "Albus hadn't sent word. How long—"
"Just last night."
"But—shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing. Surely—"
"I should be with my family on Christmas Eve?" Penny offered. "Dumbledore seemed to agree."
Mrs. Weasley didn't respond, but she gave her little squeeze while she tried to stifle another little sob. She held Penny like this for a couple of minutes until she got a hold on herself and pulled away to fret over smoothing her hair.
"You must be starving," she said, eyeing Penny critically.
"I would not be sorry to eat anything you offered me," Penny smiled.
Pulling Penny by the wrist, Mrs. Weasley led her into the kitchen while Lupin shut the door and cleared the mess. Penny glanced back at him, finding his warm brown eyes following her. There was a light in them she had not seen in sometime, and yet, Penny could not bring herself to hold his gaze longer than a few seconds.
Ten minutes later Penny found herself seated at the bench with a steaming cup of tea, a cup of coffee, water and eggnog while Mrs. Weasley worked on whisking up waffles, bacon, eggs, hash, porridge, being unable to decide which of Penny's favorite dishes to make.
"Just let her," Lupin whispered, taking the seat beside her, but sliding it slightly to the left to give her a little more space than he normally would. "I think it helps her release all that worry she's been keeping bottled up inside."
"I don't want to be a nuisance, and especially not on Christmas."
"A nuisance?" Lupin said, a note of surprise in his voice. "You are far from that. You are the reminder."
"Reminder of what?" Penny frowned at her cup, still unable to look at the man. It was still too strange to be having such a normal conversation with him and Penny wasn't sure she liked it or not.
"Not to allow ourselves to get lost in the war; to hang onto these moments because they will be what we rebuild with, come the end."
Penny took a sip of her tea because she did not know how to respond to that. The heart within her that remembered how easily he'd said those unforgivable words warred with her instincts, the instincts that wanted to hold his hand, roll her eyes and tease him for being cheesy. The conflict within her resulted in her not doing anything but sitting there awkwardly while she tried to get a handle on her emotions, something he seemed to be annoyingly attuned to.
"You are the gift everyone wished for this year. There is no reason to feel guilty for that," he said, a little too wisely. How was it the man never missed anything?
Her brain was still trying to process losing two months of her time while juggling the guilt of being the cause of everyone's worry. Had the thought she would wake up crossed their minds? What kind of atmosphere did that prospect leave hanging over the holidays? And on top of the sadness of celebrating their first Christmas without Sirius, it left Penny feeling responsible, like she should have tried harder or had a better answer for why she'd been unconscious for so long.
A thundering movement of feet on the stairs and yelling startled Penny from her thoughts. She turned with a smile, getting to her feet, knowing who it was well before the kitchen door burst open and Harry looked around frantically, his glasses askew and hair as messy as always.
His green eyes found her just as Ron, looking greatly harassed, pushed in behind him.
They met half-way, Harry's hand's weaving into her hair and cheek squished against hers.
"I thought we agreed you'd stop doing things like that."
"You say that like I did it on purpose."
"It wouldn't surprise me. Got out of our first set of exams, didn't you," Ron said, sliding into the seat Penny just vacated and downing her untouched eggnog.
"Don't sound so bitter, I'm sure you managed to cheat off Hermione just fine," Penny said with a roll of her eyes.
The door swung open again, several more voices joining the fray.
"Who's the prat that decided we were all getting up at this ungodly hour?" Demanded Fred.
"Yeah, Christmas Eve is basically synonymous with sleeping in," added George.
"Maybe if you hadn't stayed up until 3 am. . ." said Ginny.
"How'd you know we were up at 3?" George asked, suspiciously.
"Because you played that horrid muggle movie so loudly!" said Ginny, now appearing at the door beside the twins giving them an annoyed look as she tied her pretty red hair into a bun.
"Sorry, it was me," Harry said, letting go of Penny and turning sheepishly to the others.
The arguing siblings turned to berate Harry, but their eyes found Penny and they all stopped dead in their tracks.
"Hey. . ." Penny said, waving her hand nervously.
"Hey," George repeated dubiously.
"Hey is all you have to say to us after putting us through two months of hell!" Fred said incredulously.
"Uhh," Penny said, her cheeks flushing, but before she could form a more coherent response all three leapt at Penny.
She was going down, but in slow motion. Her eyes caught sight of Lupin, smiling in amusement and wand in his hand, before she landed with a soft phump on the floor.
Ginny was kissing Penny's right cheek, George her left, Fred squeezing the life from her as they all contradicted themselves by assuring her they would never forgive her, but that they were so unbelievably happy.
"Never leaving the house, ever again," asserted Fred.
"Anything you like, Penny, just name it," George promised regarding her Christmas present.
"Bloody boring without you. Can't believe you left me alone with them all. It'll take at least a year to make up for this," Ginny said, not sounding the least bit cross.
"What in Merlin's right arse cheek do you think you three are doing!" came Mrs. Weasley's furious voice. "Are you trying to put her back in a coma! Off! Now!"
Clambering their way off Penny, all of them roared with laughter, it was not often that any of them heard Mrs. Weasley swore. Ignoring them, Mrs. Weasley snatched Penny and dragged her to the table where she spent several minutes examining her, only relenting when Remus assured her Penny's pupils looked normal and not the least bit dilated, but promised to keep an eye on her while Mrs. Weasley finished up breakfast.
Everyone else took seats around Penny; Fred and George passing out mugs of coffee and Bill and his fiancé, Fleur, joining with Arthur a few minutes before breakfast was served.
The room was so noisy Penny could not even hear herself think, a customary occurrence on holidays with the Weasley's and something Penny greatly cherished. Their revelry was so infectious that for those few beautiful hours, they were all filled with such warmth that they forgot a war raged on outside.
Glancing out the window at the snow falling prettily, her heart feeling more full than she knew it ever could; Penny thought this was what Sirius would have wanted, it's all he ever wanted—mischief managed she whispered, knowing wherever he was, he'd heard her.
Okay, maybe I'm a bad person for leaving off Snape and Penny's conversation in the last one. But I felt like we all deserved a moment of ENJOYING THAT MOMENT without the rest. But please don't hate mee! We are inching closer to all the secrets he's keeping, and I kind of feel at this moment Snape is really struggling with how he will explain to Penny why he kills Dumbledore. Like, even with everything between them how is that one gonna fly when he can't tell her the plan he and Dumbledore have been concocting. :(
My inspiration for this chapter was actually the ending of the newest fantastic beasts at the ending where Dumbledore is alone in the snow watching everyone else. I just wonder about the kind of reflection he would have had at the end of HBP and everything he'd done with his life.
Next chapter will be New Years Eve and boy do I have some things planned for that!
toodles ;)