Chapter 21
DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.
And so, here we are, the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who read my story, who reviewed, who followed and favourited. I am so very grateful to all of you
The Head of Slytherin set a high standard when it came to austerity of manner but even by his own stellar benchmark, Lorenza Lovegood was a fearsome figure. Dressed in layers of black crimpoline, she resembled a raven, complete with a beak-like nose and eyes of jet. Her skeletally thin face bore no sign of a welcoming smile as she let him in to her single storey, spotless house. A Spartan lawn reached in a perfect square to the iron rail fence at the front, no ornamentation of any kind disturbing the linear look. No rose bushes, no shrubbery, no frills of any kind.
Inside, the minimalist theme continued. No frilly curtains, no decorative ornaments, everything from the cast iron skillet to the heavy oak furnishings was designed with function in mind.
"You are the Professor from Hogwarts, then. Have you brought anything I need to sign?" the beady anthracite eyes gleamed impatiently at him.
No invitation to sit, no offer of refreshment. In another circumstance, he might have admired this dowager of a woman.
"No."
He returned her level gaze with a cool study of his own.
"You want to make sure that I am up to the job of bringing up an adolescent witch. You need not concern yourself. The girl will be given a decent, respectable home here," the woman's words seemed to be cut by her teeth as they emerged from her mouth.
"Yes. I imagine so. Luna will continue her education at Hogwarts?" he lifted one sleek eyebrow.
"Assuredly. There is nothing worse than a dunce of a girl. Education, discipline, essential to building good character and if my nephew is as I remember him, he will not have bothered instilling much of either into her!"
A disparaging humph escaped the pale lips and the woman gave a quick tap of her walking stick. The sound was sharp against the parquet tiles of her living room floor.
"Here, the girl can make herself useful. I like a clean house and cannot abide mindless twaddle. Idle hands are the devil's helpers. The girl will have good, honest values and good honest work to keep her head clear of the rot and tosh her father has been teaching her," Lorenza clasped her hands on top of the walking stick, a claw like grasp that made even Snape feel cold.
"You are a woman who knows her own mind," Snape said.
"More than can be said for my twit of a nephew. No wonder he landed himself on the wrong side of trouble. It comes as no surprise to me! I am only taken aback he was not carted off to St. Mungo's! Well, I see it as my sacred duty to keep the girl off that road to nowhere. She will not be indulged in foolish beliefs here. She will not be cosseted. There will be structure and practical common sense. Not a day before time, I should say."
Snape listened and stepped towards the door.
"You have made yourself clear, Madame Lovegood. Thank you for your time," he nodded once and let her open the door to admit back into the salt laden seaside air outside.
The umbrella Hagrid had lent him to use as a portkey lay against the exterior wall. The old woman, standing inside the doorway cast a long look down her pointy nose at the pink object, the way she might if she found the carcass of dead whale on her lawn. Her gaze flickered to Severus and she made no attempt to hide her distaste. She looked rather like she had discovered he was in fact a travelling clown posing as a master of a leading school.
Getting the impression that he had but seconds before she set to clearing his head of rot and tosh Snape stepped from the house.
"Good day, Madame."
Her look of disdain was still firmly in place as he grasped the umbrella and vanished from her sight.
Back in the familiar surroundings of Dumbledore's office, with its homey ambiance, Severus stood stock still and related that Madame Lovegood was indeed prepared to take the girl and the home offered was more than adequate, perfectly stable, the woman seemed to fully grasp the responsibilities she was undertaking.
"You make no objection, then?" Dumbledore regarded him above the glinting spectacles.
"I can find no fault with the proposition.
"And yet?"
"The woman is, shall we say, unyielding," Snape supplied.
It troubled him that he had not once heard Madame Lovegood refer to Luna by name.
"But it is immaterial. Luna will be with a relative, she will have a good, steady home and that is as it should be."
"If everything was as it should be, I dare say the world would be a rather drab place," Dumbledore's blue eyes were steady on the darker gaze of his colleague.
"None-the-less. The matter is out of my hands," Severus intoned, his face carved in hard lines.
"We are seldom alone by choice," Dumbledore repeated a phrase Snape recalled from many months ago.
His face darkened now as it had then.
"You are aware that my duties extend beyond rehoming fatherless urchins here! You are well aware also that events recently in the Forest are far from encouraging. That dark magic is involved is beyond doubt. Luna's placement with her aunt is timely. That is an end to the matter," Severus' step against the stone floor tapped out a rapid and rather brutal rhythm as he descended the Headmaster's tower.
Merlin's curse upon that air headed Lovegood and his mean spirited, wicked tongued aunt! Of course he did not have a choice! The girl had a living relative, wretched though she be and placing Luna with her would not be the easy choice but the right one. What protection had he succeeded in offering? She had almost died and not just once. Crouch had gotten into this castle under his very nose and but for the sleight of fortune, he would have hurt Luna. Then there was Quirrell. Whatever he was up to, there was more to him than he pretended with his snivelling, stammering front.
This was the way. It was time to stand aside. Certainly Crouch was nowhere safe from him and one day, Snape would send him back to rot in Azkaban. Dumbledore was wrong, sometimes, choosing to be alone was the only option you had left.
By the end of the weekend, Luna had repacked most of her things and they were moved to the Ravenclaw dorm. In her way, she made no fuss, presented an accepting and accommodating demeanour as she made her preparations. She spoke nothing of Brighton or her aunt. The note from her father had vanished. Severus knew that she was confused and nervous, little wonder, cast at sea once more.
"I thought that you would be breaking down the door to get back to your House. Your imprisonment here is over at last!" his eyes twinkled from over the top of the book he was reading.
"It wasn't prison!" clear eyes lifted from the page she herself was reading.
"That was not how you felt a few weeks ago!" his lips twitched.
She blushed and glanced away.
"Well, I may have over-reacted!"
"I hardly noticed!" he chuckled and reached to ruffle her hair, a soft and affectionate gesture that drew a smile.
"It will be okay. I would not permit you to go if I was not absolutely certain of that," he laid his book down, met her eyes with an earnest gaze of his own.
"I know."
He was no longer talking about Ravenclaw. It made her heart feel too heavy to carry within her chest to think about the other move, so she turned her mind from imagining it. There was nothing she could do about it but at least for now, she could ignore the unpleasant prospect.
What she would not do was betray just how much she hated the very idea of it. She would not ask to stay. Severus had already done so much for her that to impose further, especially now when he had a resolution at hand would be unfair. And truthfully, she could not bear to make him have to tell her to go. Leave she must and so, being gracious about it was the only thing to do.
There were days of lessons, the temperatures dropped outside and one morning, the grass looked like it had been coated with icing sugar when Luna looked outside. Plumes of fog puffed in front of people as they walked in the grounds and inside, crackling fires lit up the blackened chimney of the hearth in the Ravenclaw dorm each evening.
True to his word, Severus treated Luna to supper in his quarters a couple of evenings in the week. They talked about magic and school, the books they were reading, the quirky abstracts that Luna loved. The subject of Brighton was firmly off topic and both seemed happy to stay clear of it. A veneer of normalcy had returned but it was a thin one, neither Snape nor Luna wished to have it pierced.
Sometimes, Severus found himself on the very cusp of telling her that the move was off, that her home was with him and this was where she would stay until her father returned. He was coming to dread the day when she would leave. Even thinking of it made him feel heartless, that he was somehow letting her down. Except that he was not, he was doing what was unquestionably best for her. It was that certainty that silenced him every time the words rose in his throat to cancel the Brighton arrangement. Maudlin selfishness had no place in his life.
If he was even more ascerbic in his classes than usual, then it was only the fault of those students who seemed even more dimwitted than ever. If his already scant free time was consumed with research, potions to mix, papers to grade, well term time was always busy at this time of year. Certainly, it was not frustration and regret that shortened his temper, surely it was not that the quiet hours opened his mind to thoughts he could no longer bear to dwell upon.
Two days before Christmas, Lorenza Lovegood arrived at Hogwarts, dressed in the same floor length black skirts as Snape recalled from his visit to Brighton. This time, she had added a cape of black velvet and a bonnet, beneath which her hair was scraped from her face, no doubt pinned in the same tight bun at the base of her skull.
Welcomed to Dumbledore's office, she brushed aside the niceties, exactly as she had done when Snape went to call on her.
"Headmaster, the trip here has taken quite a bit of my time. I will not waste yours," the words emerged, clipped as always, invisible points on every syllable.
"Please see to it the girl's things are packed and sent to my house. I have made her travel arrangements and she will be picked up by me on Christmas Eve at the station in Brighton," the bird like hand extended a small fold of parchment, containing the afore-mentioned travel details, Snape surmised.
He stood, a silent witness at the door of the office, dressed in a mirror image of Ms. Lovegood's black attire, mood equally dour.
"In addition, I have included a list of the things she may take. I will not allow that idiot publication of my nephew's or anything associated with it under my roof."
"Thank you, Miss Lovegood. I am sorry to hear that you have been inconvenienced. I will have Luna fetched immediately. I am sure you have much to discuss," Dumbledore had remained standing in the company of his guest.
She raised a long, lean hand.
"Hardly. I do not have time for family reunions, Headmaster. My business here is at an end. The girl I will see in Brighton."
A rustle of her skirts and she was at the door. A hand rested on the handle of the glistening cane.
"I don't suppose my nephew bothered with the fine details such as how long he envisions extending his time away?"
"Alas, no. Mr Crouch junior remains at large and his interest in Xenophillus is most probably as keen as ever," Dumbledore replied.
Her nose wrinkled and the cane rapped once against the floor.
"I see. That is all. Good day Headmaster, Professor Snape."
Leaving only a faint peppermint fragrance in her wake, the woman was gone.
"Quite possibly the only person alive that can make Lovegood seem like the normal one in that family," Snape drawled.
"She does have a way about her that may take a bit of adjustment," Dumbledore allowed more subtly.
"I will take Luna to Brighton myself. She should not have to travel alone on Christmas Eve," Snape also reached for the handle of the door.
"Indeed not." the older wizard inclined his head in agreement, the lines on his aged face making him look careworn.
Thoughts that felt coated in acid swirled in Snape's head as he descended the steps to his dungeon office. How was he to prepare Luna for this, how had the weeks gone by so fast that suddenly her leaving was upon him?
The Lovegood woman was as cold as a night in the Arctic. That an imaginative, gentle child such as Luna should be left in her care was unfair and bleak. What had the girl done to deserve this?
His head hurt from the weight of heavy thoughts, a dark expression clouded his face, making him look fierce and slightly dangerous. His steps beat a swift staccato on the granite beneath his feet and he was almost at the door of his office before he heard the fall of feet rushing in his wake. He turned and a shorter, solid form almost collided with him.
Neville Longbottom brought himself to a skidding halt a millisecond before hurtling into the Potions Master.
Looking up into the merciless face that loomed above him, Neville felt his throat close. His heart thundered, not only because of the speed with which he had descended the stairs but because of the fear that rose like a chill from inside his chest.
"Is there a reason you are galloping around this castle like a creature demented?"
Snape's question was impatiently spoken and he did not look like the answer would deter him from detracting a bucket load of points from Gryffindor for this infraction.
"It's Luna, Sir. I think you need to come see," Neville gasped and suddenly, he had his teacher's fullest attention.
Snape grasped his arm, a grip that was near painful. He spun the boy fast enough so he stumbled but he held him steady and forced him back up the steps.
"What has happened? he demanded.
Climbing faster than his feet could really manage, Neville could hardly speak for trying to stay upright.
"I d-d-don't know. She's a bit upset, I think," Neville wheezed.
"Where is she?" Snape said between clenched teeth, stopping long enough to shake the boy, his hold on him tightening.
Neville winced.
"In Hagrid's house. I am taking you there!" he gasped.
Snape let him go and brushed past him.
"I know where Hagrid lives, boy!"
Snape crossed the lawn briskly. The whomping willow stood gaunt and stripped of its leaves, the grass was damp beneath his rapidly moving feet. Behind him, lights twinkled behind the mullioned glass of the castle windows. He noticed none of these things. He was a shadowy, wrathful figure, cutting a direct passage across the grounds, the thatched, squat structure of the gamekeeper's cottage firmly in his sights.
Without knocking, he pushed his way through the door of the single roomed dwelling and was greeted by the hulking form of the Keeper of the Keys, whose back was turned as he stooped over his blazing fire. The Deputy Headmistress stood still in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyebrows knitted together in uncertainty.
The arrival of the frowning, grave faced Potions Master did little to alleviate her concern. In a fraction of a second, he had taken in the scene before him and then, the sound of muffled sobs reached his ears. Momentarily, he thought they were being emitted from one of Hagrid's beloved creatures and he gave them no further consequence.
"I am looking for Luna. Longbottom tells me she is here."
Hagrid straightened and turned to look at him, a doleful look on his face. His eyes darted to the corner of the room and he shifted his feet.
"Aye. Yes. Professor, she's here alrigh'" he said in the most unconvincing effort at sounding breezy and unaffected Snape had heard in a long while.
Minerva stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder and drew him back towards the door.
"She's distraught, Severus. Hagrid sent for me and said that she just broke down in floods of tears in the middle of afternoon tea. I have not been able to get a word of sense out of her. Has something happened?" the sharp eyes gave him a searing look.
In other words, had he caused this situation?
"That, Minerva is what I am here to find out!" he intoned, impatience tingling.
"Severus, you are certain that nothing you said or did may have brought this on? I know that you are not one to tolerate childish high jinks. Could you have been too strict with her?"
"Strict with her? She has had me running around after her these past months like her private staff! I have tennis raquets with feathers on them for home décor, hare-brained house elves turning up at will and a cat who uses my furniture as a doormat. And through all of that, I took her over my knee once. Just once," Severus growled.
"Which led to buying her a new dress and waving her off to the Gryffindor Halloween party just because I felt guilty over it! If that is being strict, I should be glad to curtail it!" he rolled his eyes.
Looking abashed, Minerva glanced back at the chair before the fire.
"Well, something has truly upset her. She's been crying her heart out but we cannot make out what got her into this state," there was a look of genuine worry on the Head of Gryffindor's firmly set face.
Snape's brows drew together rather violently.
"Luna does not cry!" he said, taken aback.
He had only seen her shed tears once in the time she had lived under his roof. Nothing that happened this turbulent year had brought so much as a sniffle from the girl.
"I assure you, she does now," the withering tone had him looking back into the smoky, dimly lit room.
He followed the sounds he had heard as he came in and sure enough, there was the top of a blonde head, a small form huddled in Hagrid's behemoth of an armchair. Made to look tiny by the large frame of the chair, Luna's face was buried in the crook of her arm which rested on top of her drawn up knees.
The sight of her looking dwarfed caused Snape's heart to lurch, though the expression on his face did not soften. The sound of sheer distress he heard from her had him automatically reaching out a hand, which he laid gently atop the fair tresses.
He leaned down so that he was at her level.
"Luna. It's Severus. I am here, child," he whispered.
Her only acknowledgement was to press her face against the front of his robes.
At that moment, Neville Longbottom huffed into the cabin, his face reddened from the exertions of hastening in Snape's wake.
The Potions Master looked up and a flash of anger lit the coal eyes.
"What have you done, boy?" he grated, making Neville's colour drain like water poured from a kettle.
"Neville didn't do anything, Sir. It's not his fault. Can we go ho.. I should go," Luna sobbed and Snape's attention turned back to her, Neville all but forgotten.
He still could not see her face and her words were half smothered in his waistcoat but he had caught the drift.
He wanted to ask her what was wrong, where this turmoil had come from but knew it would have to wait.
"Of course, Luna. Come with me," he said with a calmness he did not feel.
She stood up and stayed clamped against him, one hand clenching a fistful of his cloak.
"Thanks Hagrid. I am sorry for spoiling your tea," she hiccupped and the Gamekeeper patted her shoulder with a huge hand, making her stagger a little.
"Not at all, Luna. You've been through it. Had to catch up with yer. You'll be alright, now, you'll see," the giant man's bearded face lit with a kind smile.
Outside, in the cool air of deep winter, Snape set a slower pace to match his young ward's. He did not speak, he silenced the questions that swarmed to the front of his mind, with some difficulty, he quelled the rising worry that made his chest feel tight.
He heard the little noises she made as she fought to bring the tears under control.
"I am sorry. I am sorry for being a bother. I'm fine, really," she said jerkily.
"You are not being a bother and you are not fine. There is no need to put a front up for me, child. There is nothing to be embarrassed about," he said softly.
He led her to his quarters, sat her on the couch and reached into his pocket to find the crisp square of linen. Luna took the hanky but rather than dry her tears, she clasped it in her fingers, wringing it in her hands and drawing in shaking breaths.
"Tell me what is wrong, Luna. I want to help but unless you tell me about it, I don't know what to do."
What charm was in female tears that they made a man feel so utterly helpless, he wondered.
"You can't help, Severus. There's nothing to be done and I should not fuss. It's just that…," she paused, took a deep, ragged breath and a single tear coursed down her cheek.
He eased himself onto the couch beside her, drew her against his shoulder.
"Go on. I can listen, love. I can do that."
For long seconds, she sobbed, his shirt grew damp from the volume of tears but he held her to him, letting her cry and waiting until she was ready to talk. This was unbroken ground for Snape, crying girls were an alien species but his only thought was to take this hurt from Luna. He was prepared to do whatever was needed to fix this and make it better for her.
"Does this have anything to do with your father's note?" he asked quietly.
Her shoulders shook but she issued no denial.
Leaning into his warmth, Luna breathed in scent of spice, dry leaves, new parchment that clung to his robes. It was a smell that she could only associate with her guardian and it was comforting on a primal level that conversation could not reach.
Gradually, the tears slowed, the sobs turned to hiccups though Luna's eyes burned and her throat felt scratched raw.
"She was here, wasn't she? Aunt Lorenza? Do I have to go already?" she asked in a hoarse and plaintive whisper.
Guilt closed its cold, steely claws around Snape's heart.
"Yes, Lorenza was here but no, you do not have to go yet. She came to arrange for you to join her Christmas Eve," he said evenly.
"Remember when you said that friends stay friends no matter where they are. That is really true, isn't it Severus?" she murmured.
"Yes it is true. You have my word that I will not stop being your friend while you stay with your aunt. And if you need me, you may send an owl or firecall me anytime at all," he said.
"Is that what upset you?"
"I went to Hagrid's for tea with Neville. He mentioned that he had shown my aunt to Professor Dumbledore's office and I thought...," words melted into another shuddering sob.
"I thought that she was here for me and I wasn't ready. Not yet. I haven't even given you..." she bit her lip, silencing the stream.
His arm rested around the quaking shoulders and he gave her a bracing little squeeze.
"It is only for the holidays, Luna. Before you know it, you will be back here," he told her.
"Oh I know that. Silly really to get so worked up over it. Sort of caught me by surprise, that's what," she said with a far from convinving lightness in her tone.
"Surprises are over-rated," he said.
A flick of his wand and a foaming jug of butterbeer appeared on the stand beside the couch. He dropped a feather light kiss on the top of her head.
"And if your aunt gives you any trouble, well I can always send her a nice troop of garden gnomes to spread some Christmas cheer. The Weasleys are always looking for a good home for their more wayward ones!"
The lame joke was rewarded when she gave a snorting laugh.
She was soon sipping the butterbeer, the tears stopped. He would have marvelled at how easily the burdens of childhood could be lifted but he knew that Luna was far from happy. She had gotten her emotions back under control but in her eyes he saw the ghosts of worry and doubt lurking still. The weight of remorse pressed even more heavily upon him, gathering weight over the next day. Somehow, the sight of the giant trees decorated enchanted fairies twinkling in the Great Hall, the garlands of pine and ivy that Hagrid had strewn everywhere, they contrived to make his mood more opressive than ever.
Christmas Eve arrived to find him sequestered in his office from first light, pouring over student parchments and meticulously writing out lists of ingredients for complicated potions he had not made in twenty years or more. He told himself that it was necessary work, long overdue. The man who could deceieve anyone he met was not so adept at lying to himself and by nine in the morning, he was standing at the chime window high in the castle's clock tower, hands clasped behind his back.
Below him, the grounds were swathed in a fluffy blanket of snow and students were tumbling about, tossing snowballs and laughing happily, breaths fogging before their faces. It was a festive and cheerful sight and his lip curled to look upon it, his mood as dark as the cloak he wore.
By early afternoon, he was in his private quarters, waiting on Luna who was packing in her dorm for the Brighton trip. At half past mid-day, on the dot, she was opening the front door, her tiny, carpet bag clutched in her hand.
He rose an eyebrow at the sight.
"Is that all you are taking?" he asked.
"A few changes of clothes. My books. I won't need anything else and I don't think Aunt Lorenza will like it if I take my failt and frytacks. She doesn't really see the point of them," Luna supplied.
She dropped the bag at her feet, rummaged in her pocket and held out her hand.
In her fingers, she held a small rectangle, wrapped in silver paper that was tied with a ribbon of interwoven pine needles.
He frowned and looked from the parcel to his ward.
"It's for you. Your Christmas present. I thought I ought to give it to you now. I won't be... I might forget later," she said, seeing him make no move to take it from her.
"Luna. There really is no need," he said gruffly, opening the ribbon and letting the paper fall open like bird wings on his palm.
Snape had not really expected an exchange of gifts, it was a long time since he had shared in that yuletime tradition. He could not have guessed what her present to him would be but if he had given it any thought, he might have supposed another of her home made charms. Never in a million years would he have dreamed of the object that lay on his palm. In surprise, he looked at her, seeing her wistful little smile.
"Luna!" he gasped but her smile was faltering a little at the scowl that had drawn his brows into a sharp v.
"Don't you like it? It's ok if you don't...," she said uncertainly.
He looked again at the silver clasp. It looked fine enough to be woven from gossamer, two solid circles joined with a half moon central bar. He looked more closely and saw the initials 'SS' engraved there. This was its only adornment. Simple, minimalist and very tasteful, it would be something he would have chosen for himself if he was in the habit of selecting elegant cloak fasteners.
"This is quite stunning. However did you get this?"
Beaming now, she clasped her hands.
"Oh, I ordered it from an ad I saw in Hermione Granger's Daily Prophet, weeks ago! I was a bit scared it might not arrive in time for Christmas!" she grinned.
"I am impressed but it must have cost you. It's too much, child," his eyes were soft looking into her happy face.
"Just a few weeks' pocket money. I earned it doing a few odd jobs for Hagrid. It's not as if I needed the money for anything else, Severus. You have given me everything I need," she said.
Then, the glorious light faded in her jade eyes.
"Anyway, shouldn't we be getting off, then? I don't want to make a bad start with Aunt Lorenza by keeping her waiting," Luna forced her tone to be light.
"Yes, it is time to go," he agreed, closing his fist over her little gift.
She bent and picked up the carpet bag.
He didn't move and she looked quizzically at him.
"If you are busy, I can take the train as she suggested. It leaves from Hogsmeade in ten minutes," she said.
"Are you in such a rush then to be off? Eager to live with a bitter old woman who frightens you?" he asked.
Confused, Luna shuffled slightly, looked down.
"I am not eager, exactly. But when there is something that must be done, it is best to get on with it. And as you say, this is just a few days when you look at it. I will be back here after the holidays. I'm sure that in the meantime, my aunt won't be quite so frightening if I get to know her properly," she answered.
"You don't sound sure," he observed.
Luna fell silent. No doubt, he was about to tell her that he was sorry this was the way it had turned out. It would make him feel a little bit better for she knew that he felt guilty about her leaving. Not bad enough to keep her here but, just the same. Feelings must be appeased, the right thing seen to be done, politeness observed.
"And I have not given you my present," he said.
Luna did not want trinkets or even more books, much as she loved them. Even her treasured stories could not make the unpleasantness of her reality fade away.
"You don't hold with Christmas. I heard you tell Mr. Filch when he was grumbling about putting his back out helping Hagrid carrying in those trees for the Great Hall,"
He took her hand, led her outside, shut the door behind them. Stopped on the corridor and with the light from the candle in the sconce on the wall playing on his face, he gave her a steady look.
Here, the light was dim, he looked once more as though he was a wraith, stepping from the shadows.
"Close your eyes," he ordered.
Luna's throat felt tight, the last thing she wanted was to free yet more tears. Not now, looking like a baby was not the way to take her leave. Better to face what was happening with some grace. She was glad to obey him, thinking that he meant to portkey them out of the castle.
She felt his hands on her shoulders, he turned her in a perfect circle and then, all was still again.
"Open them," he said from behind her.
"About to tell him that she had travelled by portkey before and was fine with it, Luna opened her mouth and without thinking, her eyes.
The sight that greeted her was nothing she was prepared for. There was his door, thick, scratched wood, aged and decorated with the large, iron ring for knocking. Except, it did not look as it had minutes before when she arrived at it from her dormroom.
Now, a large bow tied from a thick ribbon of glistening velvet was attached to the knocker. Luna blinked and then turned to look at her guardian, finding his face serious, sombre, almost stern.
"I don't think I understand," she said.
"This is my gift, Luna. My home is your home. How would you like to spend Christmas here instead?"
Black eyes peered at her, shadowed by the dancing candlelight.
Slowly, Luna smiled.
"We'll need a tree," she said.
"Yes."
"And decorations,"
"Yes."
"Music," she gave him a golden grin.
"Don't push your luck!" his eyes flashed but his lips quirked in the ghost of a smile.
"So what changed your mind? She asked some time later over a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Behind her, a fat fir tree shimmered with gleaming lights.
"An old friend of mine likes to say that being alone is not a choice many would make. It never made much sense to me until just recently," he said.
"You choose for me to stay," she said with a contented sigh.
"I do. Even if it does mean that I get a bonus guest," he eyes the cat, which was curled on the mat before the fire, gazing adorningly at his mistress.
"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said and took a large gulp from the mug of chocolate.
He said nothing. It was enough to know that as ever, she was quite correct. Happy it was.
.