Chapter 38
The Yule Ball
The Slytherin common room was large and cut deep underground, with rough stone walls and a low hanging ceiling. Large round, greenish lamps hung from the pointed ceiling from interlocking silver metal chains. Red and orange torches flickered from wall sconces, warming the cold stone room and throwing shadowy light into even the darkest corners. There were oval windows scattered around one wall, with green and silver stained panes. Through the windows one could see the vastness of the Great Lake and every so often a large shadow would pass over the windows, hinting at the aquatic beasts that resided in the watery depths.
In one corner stood an elaborately carved mantelpiece, housing a roaring fire that never seemed to flame out. It was made from green and obsidian marble, with silver snakes decorating its walls. Handsome oil paintings hung on the walls, looking down on onyx statues and golden busts of famous House alumni. Expensive leather backed chairs and sofas dotted the room, splendid in varying shades of green and silver. A large silken Persian rug covered the cold stone floor, a great serpent bearing its fangs in the woven threads.
Students were lounging about the common room – another lazy Saturday afternoon at Hogwarts. Near the roaring fireplace sat a group of chatting students, Draco Malfoy in the center as usual, preening and gleaming – the handsome boy's confidence was almost palpable. His snow white skin shone even within the shadowy interior of the common room, his straw blond hair had nary a strand out of place.
A comely girl with long, straight, raven black hair sat beside him, her right leg resting over his lap and her fawning eyes drinking in his face. Crabbe and Goyle sat off to his right, permanent bodyguards who much preferred the role of lackey to leader. The group of four, along with several other students, were listening to Blaise Zabini recount another one of his late night conquests when Severus Snape swept into the room, a shadowy whisper that silenced the chattering room.
Slytherins were known throughout the castle for haughty confidence bordering on downright arrogance, often denying to give the Hogwarts' professors their due respect, but when alone in their common room with their own House Head, they never once forgot their manners. Snape demanded respect from his charges and got it – they were afraid of him like most of the other students from the other three Houses, but there was also a deep seated respect for him that the Slytherins never quite developed for any of the other school professors, or for the Headmaster.
Almost at once the chattering stopped and a few students even stood in deference – or was it apprehension – as Snape breezed across the large green and silver carpet. He barely made a sound as he made his way over to the fireplace and turned to face the room, a small sneer forming on his lips.
"Gather 'round, I've some announcement to make."
As the students began to form a semi-circle around their House Head, Snape casually snapped his wrist and flicked his wand at the floor. A wisp of grey smoke shot forth from the tip and collected on the floor in a swirling mist; after a moment, wispy grey snakes shot forth from the mist and slithered away, leaving small grey puffs in their wake. They swept along the silk carpet and headed off in search of any missing students.
Snape stood still as a statue and his waiting students did the same, the only sounds in the common room were the cackles echoing from the fireplace as the hot fire burned bright on top of darkened logs. Over the next few minutes the rest of the Slytherin house trickled into the common room; many had unfocused eyes, sleep shone from their eyes; a few older students wandered in smelling of fire whiskey; the last two students to enter were a tall blonde boy and a giggling red-headed girl, her lipstick smeared across his neck. Snape gazed at his silver and green charges, sullen disappointment mingled with a certain pride in his dark eyes.
"Now that we are all here," Snape's eyes lingered a moment on the smug looking tall blonde boy, "I can begin. As stated last month, there is to be a Slytherin House feast next Thursday in the Great Hall. The guest speaker and visiting chef is a personal friend of mine, so I expect all of you to be on time and properly behaved. Please come prepared with questions for Chef Patel –and if there is any nonsense at all, I'll give you to Hagrid for the rest of year and you can spend your weekends cleaning up after this creatures. Any questions?"
A small, mousy boy in worn green robes slowly raised his hand and Snape turned to stare at him with a sneer. After a few seconds, the boy slowly lowered his hand to a chorus of snickers and Snape continued.
"As you're all aware, this year's Quidditch season has been cancelled due to the Triwizard Tournament."
Small groans sounded from the surrounding crowd.
"Yes, I know how disappointed some of you are, but I've got some good news on that front. Draco's father has generously offered to rent a pitch on the outskirts of Hogsmeade during the next school field trip to Hogsmeade and –"
A roar went up and there were a few shouts of "Well done!" and "Draco!"
"Quiet now. Quiet, I said! Mr. Malfoy, who's on the school board of Governors, as well as a close personal friend of mine, will be taking care of every expense. On top of that, I've personally vouched for your good behavior to the Headmaster in order to allow this to happen. If anything, and I mean anything, untoward occurs or if there is even one complaint from a single village resident, I promise you the guilty parties will suffer a very heavy price."
Snape's menacing look wiped the smiles of most of the students' faces, save for the pleased look that Draco always wore. A few of the students began to shuffle towards the back, wilting under the potions master's hot gaze.
"I've one final thing to say. The Yule Ball is approaching – a traditional and time honored festivity of the Triwizard Tournament and a prime opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open to fourth years and above – although older students may invite younger students if they so wish –"
Most of the younger girls in the group stared pointedly at the floor, while a few bold ones made eyes at some of the older boys. Quite a few of the older girls stole quick looks towards Draco and Blaise. Soft giggling began to spread amongst the students; Snape wore an irritated look and plowed on.
"Dress robes must be worn," Snape continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock sharp on Christmas Day, concluding around midnight. Mr. Filch has asked the House Heads to gather volunteers to help prepare the Great Hall for the dance."
Snape stared deliberately around, but no one moved or voiced their help. "If anyone is interested, please see Mr. Filch by tomorrow and submit your name…don't all volunteer at once," he scoffed.
"The Yule Ball is, of course, a chance for us to have fun, but it's also an opportunity to show support for Hogwarts and our Champion. Since the Goblet did not seem to think that anyone in Slytherin was worthy," Snape said with a disapproving jeer, "we'll have to throw our support behind Mr. Diggory. I expect all of you to show him the proper respect and adulation during the ball."
A voice peeped out from towards the back of the room, "But Professor, what about the other school Champion – Potter?"
Snape's head snapped towards the voice so fast his neck cracked. He stared pointedly at a thin stringy boy with wavy brown hair, along with a handful of other shocked faces from the crowd. After a few tense seconds, Snape's glare turned into an icy smile.
"Slytherin shall be supporting the true Hogwarts Champion Mr. Nott. I believe it's called the Triwizard Tournament, is it not?"
The tension in the air burst and common room rang with laughs and hoots. Snape stepped past his students and exited the common room to shouts of "Hail King Cedric!" and "Potter stinks!"
The winter chill breezing in the air was refreshing and invigorating on the skin, enough to get one's blood pumping and turn cheeks rosy red, but not cold enough to bite. Stars twinkled in the night sky like faraway diamonds nestled on a giant necklace. Gentle snowflakes floated down, coating the world and giving the night a whimsical feel that made one feel like anything was possible. A thin film of frost covered the school grounds, giving the entire campus a beautiful silver sheen – Hogwarts had never looked more spectacular, a true winter wonderland.
The Great Hall was a mirror image of the winter beauty, magicked to mimic the snowy kaleidoscope swirling outside. Happy voices, excited shouts and cheery laughter bubbled from within and floated up and through the open front doors to the rose the garden outside. Fluttering fairy lights winkled in the thorny bushes and light orange lanterns floated throughout the garden, dancing in time with the music playing inside. The garden was filled with frosted green bushes, winding ornamental paths and large stone statues. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches, some too close to each other to have been only talking.
Sitting on one of the farthermost wooden benches was a solitary man, bundled up thick in a black traveling cloak. His greasy black hair was dusted with snowy white flakes and his hooked nose shined in the floating orange lights. The cool night air had caused his normally sallow skin to take on a slight pinkish tinge, giving color to his brooding look.
Severus Snape closed his eyes and fingered the ice cold necklace lying across his neck. It was a thin chain made of pure silver, magically interwoven with ruby strands. But the ruby strands had faded many years ago, the magic dying out when the witch who created the enchantment was struck down. It felt cool on his skin, always reminding him of what was gone and never would be again. This is where I belong, alone and out in the cold while the rest of the world is inside enjoying the merriment and warmth.
The sounds of the Yule Ball were bitter notes to Snape's ears, cacophony that reminding him of the awkwardness of his youth. He thought back to a winter party held in the same Great Hall year ago, the wispy smile Lily had given him…that beautiful red smile, her lips…and how it had turned into a sad frown when Black and Potter had dropped a punch bowl on his head just as he was working up the courage to ask her to dance. He remembered the sticky fruit juice sluicing down his face, staining the only pair of dress robes he owned. The jeers and hoots, the laughing and howling faces of the students, the teachers who pretended not to notice, the taunting insults hurled his way, even from members of his own house.
Snape removed a small cask from his cloak and took a long pull, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. His breath frosted the moment it left his mouth and swirled away into the night. His countenance turned a darker shade of crimson as he remembered the indignity of that night…was it any wonder I turned away from everyone? What choice did I have? Dumbledore always preached forgiveness, selflessness, helping those who could not help themselves – but what did he know? Whoever helped me?
Snape was so engrossed in the injustices of his past that he was unaware of his visitor until a shadow fell right over top of him.
"Severus, a word?"
Snape looked up at the oily, unctuous voice – a tall reedy man stood before him with short white hair and a matching goatee. His dark eyes glinted under bushy eyebrows and a queer smile played upon his lips.
"I'm in no mood for games tonight."
"What games? I just want a moment of your precious time," Karkaroff replied in an innocent voice. The Durmstrang Headmaster took a long look around and then sat down next to Snape, his voicing turning as cold as the frost on the ground. "Why have you been avoiding me?"
Snape looked at his former Death Eater solider with a churlish sneer, "I've been doing no such thing." And before Karkaroff could reply, Snape shot up from the bench and set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes. It was several yards before Karkaroff was able to catch abreast of him.
"Please, we must talk, form a plan of some sort. Things are turning more serious than ever."
"I…don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."
"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it —"
"Then flee," said Snape's voice curtly. "Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."
Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.
"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. "And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Harry and Ron on the path ahead. Karkaroff, Harry saw, looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.
"We're walking," Ron told Snape shortly. "Not against the law, is it?"
"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape…
"How can you considering staying? His vengeance shall be terrible to behold, it will be absolute for former soldiers like us. We can last longer if we work as one, if we stick together …"
"You've got quite a bit of cheek, speaking to me like this. I heard you sold me out during the trials, yelled my name for even the heavens to hear!"
"We were all jumping ship and looking for life rafts. Rumors are that you turned on all of us even before the Dark Lord fell."
"Don't believe everything you hear, you of all people should know that."
"It was a long time ago Severus and we all did what we had to, to survive, to live, to escape the cold cells of Azkaban – and it has turned out well for us both. Come now, it was such a long time ago and we went through so much together."
"Exactly, we did all that and then some, yet you still sold me out."
"What was I to do Severus, not try to save myself? Send myself to that bloody island in your stead? What about you? Did you betray us during the war? Were you faithful to your true brothers? Did you step up during the trials and try to save me?"
Karkaroff looked at the Snape with beady eyes and a wary frown.
"We can ignore each other or we can let bygones be bygones."
"I'd prefer the former choice Igor." And with that refrain Snape stomped off through the falling snow, leaving his former brethren in stunned silence.
The night was winding down and only a few remained, not wanting the magical dance to end. Snape and Dumbledore stood a little apart in the entrance hall, while the last stragglers from the Yule Ball passed them on their way to bed.
"Well?" murmured Dumbledore.
"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell." Snape looked sideways at Dumbledore's crooked-nosed profile. "Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."
"Does he?" said Dumbledore softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join him?"
"No," said Snape, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. "I am not such a coward."
"No," agreed Dumbledore. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon. . . ."
He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken. . .Snape felt a strong bubble expanding in his chest and a warmth rush to his eyes, but just as quickly the bubble burst and the wetness in the back of his eyes dried up. He left his post at the entrance hall and walked down the front steps of the castle, out into the night. The snow had begun to fall heavy and the magical winter chill seemed to have turned into a blustering rope. Some of the magicked orange lanterns had dimmed down to small burn, even more had burnt out and fallen down, fallen soldiers littering the rose garden.
Snape walked through the darkened garden, his boots turning cold and his cloak turning wet. He fell to his knees and picked up a fallen lantern, whispering soft words into it. The lantern shimmered and a small fire lighted within. Snape placed the flickering lantern back into the snow and rolled up the sleeve on his left forearm. His Dark Mark stared back at him, fearsome and angry.
The Mark had meant so much to him once, it had meant everything. It stood for the ultimate power and respect at one time, but it had also stood for family. A real family, a true family, people he could count on when the chips were down and his back was against the wall. Or so Severus Snape had once thought.
Snape stared hard at the Mark…and then the impossible happened. Something that had not happened in thirteen years. The snake moved.