Typical Disclaimers Apply

A/N: For those who don't know, "Pomona" is Sprout's first name. Asteria Greengrass is also not a character of mine, though I'm not sure if she appears in the books. On JKR's website it says that she's the woman Draco Malfoy marries.

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"So, are we heading down to your parents' house for Christmas?" Winter had hit hard and fast, with snowstorms coming almost every day. All Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes had been canceled, and all students and teachers were forbidden to leave the castle "For their own safety." Many of the professors had theorized quietly that Snape was just using the weather as another way to flaunt the power he had over the school. None of them were brave or stupid enough to voice their theories.

Almost every student was planning on going home for the holidays. A few exceptions were Luna Lovegood, who had been taken home a few weeks earlier, and Ginny and Neville, whose families thought that traveling would be unsafe. Several students with family members in the Order had actually been forbidden to travel or to go to Hogsmeade.

"I don't think we should go, Siri. A lot of students with strong oppositions to the Ministry are staying, and I'd like to keep them out of trouble."

"Well, yeah, but I was hoping we could see Harry."

"Do you honestly think he's going to be there?" Esme laughed, "I mean, that is the number one place that the Death Eaters, I mean 'Ministry officials' would look."

"I guess you're right. But still, don't you want to see your family? Looking at how the year's going, this could be the last time you see them."

"The only people that'll be there are Mum, Dad, and the twins. And they're all pretty tough, Sirius. I think they can take care of themselves."

"I suppose you're right. I can't really see Bellatrix getting the upper hand on your Mum."

--

"Good God, I do no want to go downstairs today," Snape moped to the portraits. Most of the rolled their eyes, a few muttering things about what a coward he was, but Dumbledore leaned in kindly and smiled at him.

"Why ever not, Severus?"

"Well, let's see," he began sardonically. "The Carrows and the majority of students who either fear me or adore me have left to see their families. Downstairs there are vast groups of teenagers who have plenty of reasons to hate me and have probably been planning my death ever since I took over. In addition to them, there are several teachers who would be quite pleased to see me strung up by my neck on the Whomping Willow. It will not be a pleasant holiday."

"Tell me Severus, have you ever had a pleasant holiday?"

"No."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mostly your's and my father's."

"Now, that's not the spirit! You need to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and socialize! Compliment Pomona on her lovely new robes. Amethyst is quite a color on her. Or tell Minerva how much you like her new spectacles. I think they make her look ravishing." Snape stared for a moment at Dumbledore, and then at the cappuccino in his hand.

"I need to stop drinking these things."

--

Christmas Tea was awkward at best. Snape, in an attempt to be whimsical, arranged the tables as they'd been four years ago, when the majority of students had left because of the mass murderer on the grounds. Interestingly enough, today the majority of students were flocking towards that mass murderer. And his wife.

They sat at the opposite end of the table from Snape. The few students left gathered together and chatted about the gifts they'd received. Many of them had spent the past night congregated in their common room, telling stories about their childhoods. Esme hated to admit it, but all of this fear and loathing had certainly brought in a good amount of House spirit.

The teachers were happier than they'd been all year. Flitwick and Hagrid broke a Christmas Cracker to reveal a wizard's hat the size of an armchair. Flitwick, of course, was the one who ended up wearing it. McGonagall, Sinistra, and Sprout were chattering about the newest gossip they'd heard concerning witch starlet Marisa Weslock. Even Trelawney, who had taken the occasion to read a few students' tarot cards, was preaching something other than gloom and doom.

Still, when Esme looked at Snape, her heart plummeted. He was sitting alone, at least four seats away from the nearest person, sadness etched in his features. She knew that this was what he'd earned, nay, deserved, but still, he was alone on Christmas. He looked up and caught her eye, offering a half-smile. She immediately jerked her head away from him, attempting to join the conversation with a half-hearted laugh.

--

The Christmas holidays came to what felt like an abrupt end. The students who had come back were grouchy and unpleasant. The students who'd stayed were grouchy and unpleasant. Several students hadn't returned, Esme noticed, and she was pleased that their grouchy and unpleasantness would be confined to their homes.

It seemed as though the children were sleepwalking through their classes. Throughout the week, Esme had seen students pour quills into their potions and nearly light themselves on fire. Sirius had watched a third-year Hufflepuff turn his goblet into a pillow instead of a teacup. He was mildly impressed.

Fortunately, almost all of the students perked up when they heard McGonagall mention "remedial Transfiguration lessons" at the end of her classes. Unfortunately, for Esme, Sirius had fallen ill at the time.

"You can teach the lesson!" he'd rasped.

"No I can't! I don't know the first thing about muggles!"

"We barely talk about that anyway! Just get them to talk about what they know from the holidays! Now," he said, waving her off, "leave me to my death bed."

Nervously, Esme walked down to the Room of Requirement. Upon entry, she noted that about ten students were missing. "I see a few students have chosen not to return for the new year. Well, not a problem, it's probably their family's choice," she mused. "All right, let's get one thing straight: Sirius, the only person who really knows about muggles, is ill. He won't be joining us today. I don't know a thing about muggles, so today we'll be discussing whatever we learned over the holiday. Yes, Timothy, what did you learn?" She pointed to a tow-headed Hufflepuff.

"I learned why they've banned the use of You-Know-Who's real name."

"Really? Do tell."

"Well, remember like, ten years ago, when everyone was still terrified of him and wouldn't dare say his name? Well, lately everyone isn't so scared of him, and they're willing to say his name. The Death Eaters are worried; they think that if people aren't so afraid of him, they might rise up and take down the Ministry. They think that banning the use of his name will create more fear."

"Interesting tactic. Do you think it'll work?"

"For some it will. Those who actually use it are going to end up in Azkaban, so maybe it's just a way to imprison the brave and leave the fearful."

"That's a great…" the door began to shake, "…observation," Esme finished, all color draining from her face.

"Do we run?" Ginny asked nervously, eyeing the doors that had suddenly appeared at the back of the room.

"Yeah, you should probably run." No one moved, and the door began to shake more violently. "RUN!" She cried, and the students all took off toward the doors. The door exploded, and Alecto and Amycus sprinted in, just in time to see a flash of red hair disappear through the door.

"You!" Alecto laughed hysterically, pushing her wand up under Esme's chin. "Well, I was hoping to catch your husband, but you'll definitely do!" She turned and addressed her brother, "Bind her." Amycus tapped Esme's wrists with his wand, causing ropes to wrap themselves around her. He bent down to do the same to her ankles, but she said smoothly:

"If you bind my ankle's I won't be able to walk to Snape's office. You'll have to carry me."

"How dare you take the name of our headmaster so casually! Cruci—"

"Now Alecto, dear," Amycus said, smiling in a way that made chills run down Esme's spine. "There'll be plenty of time for that on the way to Azkaban." He stared at Esme, hoping for a sign of fear. Esme smirked at her.

"You're about as scary as a lampshade, Alecto. You know that?" Alecto only scowled.

Each grabbing an arm, the Carrows began to escort her all the way across the school to Snape's office. Amycus had her upper-arm in such a grip that she believed she may loose blood flow to the arm before the bone snapped. Still, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing pain. Only once they unbound her wrists and through her on the floor of the office did she emote at all.

"What," she growled, using her sore arms to pull her body up off the floor, "the hell do you think you're doing? You think you can just waltz into Dumbledore's office only a couple of months after you've killed him and just assume his position?!" She'd stalked over to Snape's desk, pushing her face within an inch of his. "What gives you that right, huh? What makes you think that you have any power over any one of us? And where do you get off thinking that you can hire that whore and her brother—"

"Esme," Sirius said nervously, glancing at the Carrows. He'd been bound to a cold wooden chair. She silenced him with her hand.

"—and get them to do all your dirty work? This castle has turned into a prison under your watch! Students are getting tortured, and they can't even write home about it because the bloody Ministry is intercepting their mail! My sister's afraid to speak up!" she yelled. "Do you know what happens to people who mess with my family? Do you?!"

"Esmeralda," Dumbledore's portrait said warningly. She paused for a moment, swinging around to look at it. He was looking at her sternly, his eyebrows were slightly raised, but his blue eyes still glittered. She looked back at Snape.

"They die! And you deserve to die, Snape," she snarled, her voice low and poisonous. "Do you know why? Because you have destroyed the peace of this school, forced my brother and his friends to run away to Merlin-knows-where, and completely betrayed my trust! The tenth circle of Hell is reserved for people like you! How could I ever think you were any more than a criminal and a slave to evil? You know what?" she paused for emphasis. "Fuck you!"

"Ms. Black," Snape said with a forced patience. "Please, shut up!"

Esme glared around the room. Her husband was tied to a chair. Snape was sitting at Dumbledore's desk. Asteria Greengrass was standing quietly in a corner—what was she doing there?—looking taken aback. But what really made Esme's blood boil was Alecto Carrow, sitting in perfect silence, a tiny smirk playing around her lips. Esme turned towards her and, as hard as she could, backhanded her across the face. Then she turned to Asteria:

"Miss Greengrass," she said, smiling calmly. Asteria took a step back. "I suppose you would be the one who told our little secret about remedial Transfiguration." The girl nodded sharply, not looking at Esme. "Well, bravo. I'm sure you'll be greatly rewarded." She looked back at Snape, "Well, I suppose I'll be in my office if I'm needed," she said coolly. She turned to leave.

"Hold it," Snape said from his chair. Esme turned, practically spitting venom. "You cannot possibly believe that I'm going to allow you to leave."

"Well, I do."

"Alecto, Amycus," Snape said, rising. "Please escort these students and Mr. Black out of my office. And don't try to listen at the door; I'll know you're out there." The large group left silently, everyone eyeing Esme nervously. After they'd left, Esme marched straight up to the desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" she snapped, looking mad enough to slap him, too.

"You know, I might have let you off with a warning if not for that little 'Fuck you' outburst," he said, matching her tone.

"You mean you're sacking me?" she asked incredulously.

"Exactly."

"What? Why?! Where do you get that kind of power?"

"Oh, I don't know, let's see: You've been running underground Muggle Studies classes, have been plotting against the Ministry, not to mention the fact that you assaulted a Ministry appointed professor!"

"I don't deserve to get sacked just for that!" she scoffed.

"Tough," he set his jaw, but something flickered in his icy black eyes. Esme glared at him.

"What's the real reason you need to fire me?"

"Do I really need to repeat—?"

"No," she said softly, her head very close to his, "the real reason." His shoulders sagged and he looked her straight in the eye.

"You can't stay here," he whispered.

"I can take on Alecto and Amycus, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not just them, Esme. Some day soon, your little brother's going to arrive here, and with him come Death Eaters."

"So?" she said dismissively.

"You're number two on their list, Esme! Staying here means certain death!"

"The punishments for leaving and not being here when my students need me are a hell of a lot worse than death!" She glared at him, her heart racing. "Look Severus, you can sack me. You can sack my husband. But when the Death Eaters come, we'll be here. And we will fight." Then she turned tail and walked straight out of the room.

When she got downstairs, Sirius was waiting for her, looking almost frightened. Never before had she seen fear in his eyes. "Have we been dismissed?"

"Duh."

"Are we leaving?"

"Are you kidding?" she rolled her eyes. "Snape practically invited me to stay."

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