Tis the Season - Part 3

This is it - the last of the 'holiday specials'.

Harry felt the rush of relief surge throughout his body as he and Sirius returned to the main level of Gringotts. As if the vaults weren't creepy enough by themselves, the goblin employees certainly didn't make the experience any more pleasant. He had hoped it would be many years before he'd have to return to Gringotts – he certainly didn't trust the goblins any more than they trusted him.

To his delight, Daphne and Astoria were seated with their parents in the main foyer, ostensibly waiting for him. After securing permission from the girls' parents, Harry followed them to Florean Fontescue's to treat them to some hot chocolate (being a nippy, blustery December day, the sisters weren't feeling like having ice cream).

Cordelia Greengrass smiled on as she watched the children make a bee-line for the ice cream shop, but her husband Edmund seemed less interested in his daughters than the man seated across from him. He gave Sirius a calculated look for a few moments, who only briefly looked up from the mysterious parchment he recovered. "If nothing else, you've got some stones showing up in Magical Britain like this, Sirius," he said in a gravelly creak.

"I'm a free man again, Edmund," Sirus replied glibly. "Can I not come and go as I please without being followed by a lynch mob?"

Edmund shook his head. "No, no, no. I'm not talking about that… I'm talking about the boy who's been accompanying you." He lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "The Potter lad. Both my girls are rather infatuated with him." He arched an eyebrow, and gave Sirius another calculating look. "To put it mildly, there's been quite the uproar in Magical Britain when Harry Potter was not one of the first year students to be sorted last term. More than a few believed him to be dead, but there have been whispers of him living in North America… a rumor which my Daphne ultimately found to be true."

"He's got every right to visit his ancestral home and learn some family magic," countered Sirius. "Besides, I've already told him to keep things low-key. He's aware of his celebrity status."

"I don't disapprove of his friendship with Daphne and Astoria," sighed Edmund, "but I do have my concerns. All it takes is one leaked photograph to make the cover of the Daily Prophet… even something innocent like having a hot chocolate on a chilly day. Every minute he shows his face in public is another opportunity for him to be discovered by the paparazzi, or worse… exploited by those loyal to the Dark Lord."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You don't have to tell me twice… even North America has felt the venomous touch of Death Eaters. Blimey, we ran into Lucius Malfoy in Wheelbare Row in Wizarding Vancouver last year. And Peter Pettigrew kidnapped Remus on school grounds at Ilvermorny earlier this year, but fell to his death before he could return to Britain."

"So, how long are you both planning on staying in Magical Britain exactly?" chimed in Cordelia, hoping to lighten the mood. "We could have you as guests in the manor… while the Leaky Cauldron has its charm, our estate can afford you some badly-needed privacy."

"Just long enough to translate this parchment and cast this enchantment – I can't do it without Harry's help," replied Sirius.

"When the children return, we could all floo back to the manor, and you and I can look at it together in my study," offered Edmund. He tilted his head. "If you don't mind my asking, what sort of family magic is this?"

Sirius bowed his head. "Mageis tis Anastasis," he murmured.

"A resurrection enchantment?!" exclaimed a dumbfounded Edmund. "What in Merlin's name are you planning to do?"

"Harry… he wanted to see his parents for Christmas," explained Sirius. "Apparently, the Potters were able communicate with the deceased and I'm trying to help Harry unlock the secret."

Edmund shook his head disapprovingly. "I understand Harry's sentiment, but he needs to be aware that necromancy is an incredibly dangerous art. It's a pathway to black magic… and this is coming from someone who was sorted as a Slytherin. I've never condoned its use personally, but I've been exposed to more than I'd like to admit."

"I promised I'd help see this through," groaned Sirius. "I can't go back now… this was my Christmas present to him."

"Then you'd better follow the instructions on the parchment without deviation," admonished Edmond. "Even the tiniest thing that goes wrong can have dire consequences."

Later that afternoon, after Harry and Sirius flooed with the Greengrasses back to their manor, the adults headed for Edmond's study to decipher the contents of the parchment while the children congregated in the parlor.

"Say, Harry, d'you feel up for a game of wizard's chess?" asked Daphne.

Harry doubled over in laughter. "If you want a challenge, you should ask Astoria… I'm awful at it! I'll just watch you two have a go."

"Suit yourself," replied Daphne with a tiny giggle. "In the meantime, would you like any refreshments? Perhaps a butterbeer?"

"Sure, if you're offering," said Harry with a shrug.

Astoria clapped her hands twice, and a small grayish-pink creature with large pointed ears appeared in the parlor with an audible pop! It bore a superficial resemblance to the Gringotts goblins, except its eyes were larger and its nose was more bulbous; it also vaguely looked like the Ilvermorny pukwudgies, except its ears were larger and was completely hairless. It was dressed in something that vaguely resembled a light grey nightgown, with a distinctive insignia emblazoned on it –the Greengrass family crest, Harry surmised, as he saw the same design prominently displayed in the house.

"Did Miss Astoria call?" the creature squeaked. "Does Noddy need to fetch some refreshments?"

Astoria smiled gleefully. "Hiya, Noddy! Could you bring us three butterbeers, please?"

Noddy made a slight bow, before disappearing with another audible popping sound, and returned moments later with three glasses of bubbling golden liquid on a small round tray. "Three butterbeers just as Miss Astoria asked."

"Thank you, Noddy," giggled Astoria as she took the butterbeers and handed two of them to Daphne and Harry.

Harry took a seat on a plush chair and watched the Greengrass sisters play wizard's chess. While he could tell that the girls were very close, they were brutal competitors and took great pleasure in one-upping the other. About forty five minutes later, Astoria's king surrendered to a menacing bishop and quickly-approaching rook. "So close, and yet so far," teased Daphne as Astoria sat and sulked.

Harry tapped Astoria on the shoulder, who slowly turned toward him. "If you want to win, I s'pose you can play me."

Thanks to liquid courage in the form of hot chocolate earlier, she had finally begun to talk to him in coherent sentences, though she was still helpless to resist from blushing. "That…that's kind of you to offer, Harry," she murmured. "But… I've had enough for one afternoon. Maybe another time?"

Meanwhile, in Edmund's study, the three adults busied themselves by translating the parchment from classical Greek to English. To the dismay of Sirius, he discovered that the spell required the concoction of a potion – one which needed a particularly rare ingredient – phoenix tears.

"Bah," spat Sirius as he paced up and down the room. "Where the devil are we going to find phoenix tears? No apothecary on either side of the Atlantic sells them…"

"You could try the resident Potions Master at Hogwarts," suggested Cordelia. "I reckon if there's anyone that might have some on hand, it'd be him."

"Horace Slughorn, eh?" chuckled Sirius. "I s'pose he'd be worth a shot. So how's the Old Slug been holding up?"

"He's quite enjoying retirement to the best of my knowledge," said Edmund. "He stepped down not long after… you know, the incident that got you wrongly thrown in Azkaban."

"That's too bad," Sirius replied with a slow nod. "He was a good teacher. Loved his students. Cor, he really took a shining to Lily… she was a phenomenal potioneer."

"Severus Snape is the sitting Potions Master now," Cordelia continued. "He's not as… popular as Professor Slughorn, but he knows his craft."

Sirius winced. "You're bloody joking. That banana-beaked weasel is teaching at Hogwarts? He should be in Azkaban with all the other Death Eaters…"

"If you're intent on making good on your promise of Harry's Christmas gift, you're going to have to get over your personal vendetta for the time being," cooed Cordelia. "You two can get back to hating each other after the holidays, but in the meantime, try to treat him like a human being."

"Fine," mumbled Sirius. "But I'm only doing this for Harry's sake… so, where does Snivellus live these days?"

"He spends his holidays in Cokeworth, but he often spends Christmas at the Hogwarts castle," replied Edmund. "You're welcome to use our floo."

Cordelia raised an index finger. "Oh, I suppose you'll want to fetch Harry first. He should be in the parlor with the girls."

Harry was sitting on the same plush seat as he listened to Daphne and Astoria sing Christmas carols in two-part harmony – Daphne in a rich mezzo-soprano, and Astoria in sweet soprano.

"Ding Dong! Merrily on high

In heav'n the bells are ringing

Ding Dong! Verily the sky

Is riv'n with angels singing

Glo-o-o-o-o-ria, Hosanna in excelsis!"

Harry just sat mesmerised – the girls were excellent singers, at least as good as Ana, he thought. As they were about to sing another song, a hearty "Hey pup!" diverted his attention away from his friends.

"Padfoot!" Harry bolted from his seat to the opposite side of the parlor, where Sirius stood, along with Edmund and Cordelia.

Sirius produced the parchment from his shirt pocket. "As it turns out, we've translated the parchment…" He let out a slow sigh. "We'll need to floo to the Hogwarts castle to get some phoenix tears. I'll need for you to come with me, whenever you're ready."

"Just a moment, Padfoot," Harry replied. He produced the pan flute from his jacket pocket and presented it to Daphne. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to give this to you… it came from the Potter vault, so it must be really old. Ana says you're a good flute player so you'll put it to better use than I ever could."

Daphne smiled brightly. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered. "I wasn't expecting a Christmas present… you really didn't have to do that. It's lovely."

"You're welcome," Harry said. "And I wish I had something to give to Astoria, but as I just met her today…"

"Don't worry about Tori," Daphne said, giggling softly. "The hot chocolate's enough of a present." She offered Harry a friendly smile. "I apologize if she's been acting weird at times today, but she's just a bit star-struck is all. Thank you for being sweet to her."

"Awright, Pup," Sirius called out from the other side of the parlor. "No need to say goodbye – we'll be back in two shakes of a dragon's tail."

Harry then joined Sirius next to the fireplace in the parlor, and within seconds, the pair disappeared in a flash of green flames after declaring their destination.

Harry coughed a couple of times – while he had used the floo before, he still couldn't help but inhale a small amount of floo powder and ash. When he took his first steps out of the fireplace, he couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow ended up back at Ilvermorny, as they were in a similarly large room as the Mess Hall, but when he looked up, he noticed hundreds of candles magically suspended from the ceiling, giving off an effect of twinkling starlight. The Hogwarts Great Hall was slightly smaller than what he was used to, mostly because Hogwarts accommodated fewer students than Ilvermorny, but he actually found the décor to be far more impressive at the British academy.

The layout was strangely familiar – sort of like a downscaled version of Ilvermorny, but the Hogwarts castle looked and smelled far older. He followed Sirius downstairs to the dungeons, and waited outside a massive wooden door as his godfather banged on the door with a massive sneer on his face.

"I know you're in there, Snivellus," Sirius growled. "Open the blasted door already."

Severus Snape was in the midst of mounds of paperwork, and was certainly in no mood for visitors. He let out a frustrated groan; many things vexed the Potions Master, but few things more so than being interrupted. Cursing under his breath, he got up from his seat to deal with the intrusion. He barely opened the door a crack when his face darkenened, realizing who the unwanted guest was. "Sirius Black. What in tarnation do you want?"

"I'm here to ask a favor of you," Sirius replied with no hesitation.

Snape clenched his jaw, unmoved. "And why should I be in the business of peforming any favors for the likes of you?"

"It's not a favor for me," clarified Sirius. "It's for my godson. He's come with me to Magical Britain as I promised I'd help him learn some family magic… I was told that you may have some phoenix tears in your possession, as they're required to concoct a potion needed for…"

"Not interested," Snape snarled. His nostrils flared after giving Harry the briefest of glances. "I have better things to do than to humor the spawn of Potter."

Sirius let out an agitated groan. "Will you just let me finish, mate? Harry wanted to know if it was possible to see his parents again for Christmas – even for just a few minutes – and I've been recently made privy to some Potter family magic that can temporarily ressurect loved ones. Only he has the capability of casting the visitation spell, but he can't do it without your assistance."

"Perhaps you should heeded common sense and told him it was impossible instead of doting on the brat," retorted Snape. "For the last time, Black, the answer's no. Now, begone."

Just as Snape was about to slam the door shut, Sirius slipped a forearm to prevent it from closing. There was a look on his face that Harry rarely saw, but he suspected Snape must have seen many times in the past. "You can belittle me all you want, Snivellus, but you will not talk about Harry that way in my presence. He's not me, nor is he James. He's more like his mum; but at the end of the day he's his own person."

"If you're asking me to apologize to the boy, then you'll be sorely disappointed," Snape said coolly.

"I'm not asking," Sirius growled as he whipped out his wand. "I'm compelling you."

Before Snape could react, an exasperated Harry glared at the bickering wizards and shouted at the top of his lungs. "For the love of God, cut it out!" He took a few angered breaths, and managed to lower his voice into something more controlled. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves. This is the Christmas season – a season of joy and forgiving. If all you're going to do is get at each other's throats for the rest of the time I'm here, then I'll just find another way back home!"

Sirius hung his head. "You're right, Harry… the last thing I wanted to do was ruin your Christmas. I just wanted to make it special for you is all…" He turned toward Snape. "If you help Harry with this… this could very well be your chance to say goodbye to Lily properly. A chance to be at peace with yourself."

Snape just blinked for a moment. He hated to admit it, but Sirius was right. He had lived with his guilt for years and the prospect of seeing Lily again and apologizing would lift a great weight off his shoulders. "Very well," he creaked. He opened his door just enough to let Harry enter. He then held out a hand, barring Sirius entry. "Only the boy may enter my office, Black. Either that, or I don't assist him at all."

Sirius let out a frustrated groan, but Harry turned around to assure him. "While I'd love for you to be there, I really don't want to see you two argue again. Besides, I don't think this will take all that long." He smiled at his godfather. "I'll tell you all about it." Without saying a word, Sirius handed Harry the parchment, and reluctantly waited in the hallway.

Harry thusly followed Snape into his office; the ambience was even darker and gloomier than the potions classroom at Ilvermorny, he thought. Just as he opened his mouth to comment on the décor, Snape cut him off with a swift gesture of his hand. "In my classroom, children are to be seen and not heard, young man." He gestured for Harry to take a seat across from his desk. "Now, hand me that parchment."

Snape glossed over the now-translated parchment, carefully noting each ingredient needed to concoct the potion. "I should have ample supply of every ingredient, save for three drops of your blood. When I tell you, hold out your hand over the cauldron, and I shall extract precisely three drops of blood from your finger."

He placed a small black cauldron over a small blue flame, and deftly commenced measuring and placing ingredients in it. A few crushed lionfish spines here, a stir there, a half dozen mistletoe berries for good measure. About fifteen minutes into the process, he produced a small flask with clear liquid – these must be the phoenix tears, Harry thought. He sat in awe as Snape carefully placed a trio of droplets in the cauldron, followed by another stir.

After a few minutes of simmering over low heat, Snape called for Harry again. "I need your hand, boy." Harry slowly offered his left hand to the potions master, which he quickly snatched. He produced a long, thin needle and poked the bottom of Harry's index finger over the cauldron. Precisely three drops of blood fell into the concoction, and clouds of smoke began wafting above the brew.

"Now, when I give you the command, you will twirl your wand in a figure-eight motion, like so, and utter the words tempora anastasis," Snape creaked.

"But… I don't have my wand," stammered Harry.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Fool boy. What sort of wizard doesn't always have their wand at the ready? One of the earliest lessons a Hogwarts student learns is that a wand is his or her life."

"A Canadian one?" Harry shot back. "Due to Rappaport's law, Ilvermorny students are required to turn in their wands to faculty prior to any holiday breaks…"

"Dash it all, just use mine," grumbled Snape as he thrust his black wand in Harry's general direction. "Be forewarned – as you are not the owner of this wand, you can expect the effects of the enchantment to be greatly diminished. You'll be lucky to have more than a few minutes with your parents."

"That's all I need," Harry murmured as he hesitantly accepted Snape's wand. "Thank you."

Snape again peered into the conoction. "Again, wait for my signal," he said, holding up a hand. As the smoke turned from grey to blue to green, he bellowed out a single word: "NOW!"

Harry closed his eyes, then swirled the wand as instructed. He took a deep breath, and deliberately pronounced the incantation – "Tempora anastasis!" The smoky clouds drifted toward the side of the desk and darkened into two shadowy, vaguely humanoid figures.

The silhouettes then developed facial features and soon, distinct winter clothing became visible – the woman's hair was a flowy, fiery red and her eyes were a distinct emerald green – just like Harry's – and the man's hair was dark and messy and wore glasses not unlike the ones Harry wore.

"Mom? Dad?" Harry exclaimed in awe. "Is that really you?"

"Hello, Harry," James Potter said. "It's good to see you again."

"We've missed you," Lily Potter whispered. "I've been longing to hold my son again."

Harry tearfully rushed up to his parents. Before he could embrace them, he wasn't sure if they were truly alive or not. "Can… can I touch you?"

"Of course, Harry," replied Lily. Harry embraced both his parents at the same time – he hadn't felt their touch in many years, so he swore he'd hang on to them as long as he could. The warm touch of his mother, and the strong hands of his father were something he had barely remembered. How he wished that he could bottle this up and take it with him.

"I'm afraid our time with you will be short," James said. "We just want you to know that we're beyond proud to have you as our son. You've made some terrific friends… especially that Anastasia girl. You could make her a very happy witch someday…" Lily gently elbowed James in the ribs.

"You're going to be a powerful wizard one day… you've successfully cast the temporary resurrection spell – a spell that only a true Potter can cast," continued Lily. "We're very proud of you."

"It wasn't all me," Harry tearfully admitted. "I couldn't have done it without Uncle Roger, or Padfoot, or Snivellus Snape…"

Snape rolled his eyes. "That's Severus Snape… but to you, it should be either 'Professor' or 'Sir'." He then knelt in front of the elder Potters and began weeping bitterly. "Lily, I never meant for you to have to surrender your life like that. I wish I could have given my life in your stead so you could raise your son. I have lived a life of regret for the past ten years… words cannot express my sorrow. Please, Lily Evans Potter… forgive me."

"Sevvy," Lily replied gently, "I forgive you, but for the past ten years, you've had far too little joy in your heart. You can't continue to live your life of regret. Finding something to die for is one thing, but it's much harder to find something to live for. I don't want to see you become a lonely, bitter old man."

"She speaks the truth, Severus," added James. "We may have had our differences, but it's not too late to live a joyful, meaningful life. I know I've only exacerbated your pessmistic attitude, and for that, I am ashamed. Please accept my humblest apologies."

"Thank you both," Snape murmured. "Perhaps… perhaps now, I can be at peace with myself."

The corporeal forms of Lily and James suddenly began to pulsate. "Our time on this plane is rapidly diminishing," Lily said, in a reverberating voice.

"Will I ever see you again?" Harry asked, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Not in this world," James said. "But take heart… you're blessed to have the Woodwards, Sirius and Remus raise you as if you were their own. Our trust in them was not misplaced…"

Harry held his parents tighter. "They've been wonderful to me, but they're not you. And I'll never get to experience this again…"

"Goodbye, Harry," Lily whispered. "We will always be proud of you. Live your life with joy and purpose. I love you…"

Her last words faded into nothingness as Lily and James Potter disappeared into the ether. Harry broke down sobbing; even Snape struggled with his composure. When Harry finally came to, he looked at the somber-looking Potions Master. "Erm, Professor Snape? What are you going to do now?"

Snape barely even acknowledged Harry. "Return to my cold, dark house and gag on my own misery."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "My mother said you needed some joy in your life… would you like to come with me to Vancouver for a Christmas dinner?"

Snape simply sat there, moving nary a muscle. He then turned toward Harry and stared at him unblinkingly, before finally nodding. "You have your mother's eyes."