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The Tale of Ebenezer Snape	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 2912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and do not make any money from my scribblings about it.

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews, please continue with them. Move is going well. All the crap made it here from the old place. I think.

            It wasn’t at all like apparation. Except it was exactly like apparation. Severus Snape had been sucked from his current spot in the chilly confines of his bed chambers and was twisting around in fitted darkness, tumbling through multi-colored blinking light until suddenly he landed. His feet felt cold almost as if they’d landed in— Severus looked down. Snow.

            The scene that surrounded them was glorious to anyone that wasn’t Severus Snape. A very young looking dwarf with a full head of thick brown hair stood at the front entrance to Hogwarts waving his wand about, guiding festive wreaths all around the entrance archway. There were students dashing about bundled tightly in their winter coats, picking up handfuls of snow and starting little fights.

            “Welcome to Christmas past,” said the ghost of James Potter.

            Severus was reminded of his days of teaching. “Stop running about you twit, twenty points from—” it occurred to him that he had no idea what house the young boy was from as he whizzed past, but as Severus related all instances of trouble with the troubling house of his own school days. “—from Gryffindor!”

            But the student who circled him again, and then lobbed a snowball at a shrieking and giggling group of girls, paid him no attention.

            “They can’t hear you,” the ghost of James chuckled. “These are merely shades, but shadows of your past.”

            Severus frowned.

            “You don’t seem impressed.”

            “You dragged me out of my bed at bloody unreasonable o’clock to dump me into a pensieve. No, I’m not impressed,” he spat.

            Spectral James did his very best not to roll his eyes. “Come on, grump, I’ve got a lot of work to do if I’m ever going to convince your sorry arse that you were once happy.”

            James drifted right through the front door to the castle leaving Severus standing barefoot in the snow. For a moment he considered apparating back to his bedchambers but as he’d never before attempted apparation from inside a memory he was not keen on the idea for fear of splinching himself in time. He glanced skyward. Snow tumbled down in big fluffy flakes and coated the ground. “Bah. Humbug.” He grumbled.

            Taking a careful step forward, Severus maneuvered around the tiny dwarf man only to realize that it was very much a young Professor Flitwick. Severus reached out and touched the door-handle only to feel his fingers float right through it. It was a cold sensation but no colder than his feet had been standing in the snow. He was hesitant to simply glide through a solid object but after a moment of hoping that this was all perhaps some indigestive-induced nightmare he melded his way through.

            “Why on earth did you take the door?” James asked.

            Severus stared at him with a sour grimace.

            “Right. Come on.” he said.

            As they walked down the hall Severus began to recognize faces. The familiar freckles on Slytherin girls and the dweeby haircuts of some of the older Hufflepuff boys; everything seemed to have a hazy familiarity to it. But he stopped dead when he saw the lanky boy stalking up the corridor, head down, gazing at his feet, long black hair obscuring his face.

            “That’s…” he trailed off as a shadow of his younger self passed right through him.

            Severus followed the boy, with as quick a step as he would take down the corridor to chase a miscreant student of his own teaching days. The young Snape moved quickly as if trying to avoid everyone.

            “Mr. Snape.”

            “Yes?” they both responded. Severus rolled his eyes, feeling foolish for having answered someone who clearly could neither see nor hear him.

            “Staying with us for the Christmas holiday?” the kind woman smiled her ever so subtle smile as she stood in the doorway to her classroom.

            “Oh my god is that—” the older Snape began.

            “Yes, Professor McGonagall.” The young Snape nodded without looking up.

            “Well…” she trailed off for a moment, reaching into the pocket of her long emerald robes. “Never hurts to get a head start on the holidays…” from within her pocket she proffered a tiny package of brown paper tied with a simple bit of string.

            “Thank you,” he muttered and took the package from her. For reasons unknown to him the Transfiguration professor favoured him, not in class as that would be most unfair but always keeping an eye out for him. Older Severus thought for a moment, puzzling over this gift that he had long since wiped from his memory.

            “Cufflinks,” he said after a moment.

            “Very good, Snape. It’s almost like you can predict the future,” the ghost of James Potter mocked. “Now hurry on after yourself,” the shade pointed to the boy version of Severus as he moved down the corridor.

            With another roll of his eyes, Severus followed after his younger self but stopped dead just as his younger self did when he heard a strange whisper. He looked around for the source of the sound, as did the younger version of himself but neither seemed to be able to locate who or what it was that had caught his attention.

            “This isn’t very happy— if anything it’s annoying,” he said flatly.

            But there was no smart response, no witty retort from his guiding shade. The elder of the two Snape’s spun in a circle only to find that he was alone in the corridor, aside from his younger self. “Now where in bloody hell did you—”

            “Psst…”

            Severus turned his attentions to a classroom door that was slightly ajar. But his younger counterpart was two steps ahead of him, moving into the classroom. He stepped to follow his younger self but the door clicked shut in his face. It took him a moment to remember that he was only trapped inside a distant memory as a shade of sorts and then he floated through the door. The scene before him caught his breath.

            It wasn’t an impressive room, an abandoned classroom with dust so thick on the windowsills that Severus was sure that the room had not seen use since the days of Salazar Slytherin. But in the corner of the room sat a beautiful young auburn haired witch. She smiled, waving him over.

            “Lily…” they muttered together.

            Older Severus closed his eyes for just a moment but when she spoke he found he could not avert his gaze from her.

            “Oh, Severus, Happy Christmas!” she beamed. The young witch was as vibrant as he remembered with her stunning green eyes and beautiful smile. He could hardly believe his eyes as he watched what unfolded between her and his younger self.

            “Er, Happy Christmas, Lily.” Younger Severus gave a sheepish smile. The holiday had never been his thing. With his father a muggle drunkard, leaving his mother to manage a household and a teenage boy mostly on her own, there had never been much to be merry about in his home in December, which once he’d found Hogwarts led to him staying every Christmas.

            “I want to take you someplace special, I need to show you something.”

            “But it’s the middle of the day,” the young Severus protested. He’d been used to sneaking around the dungeons at late hours of the night to try and find her; the moments they shared together very precious— he’d even once snuck out on a strict curfew night to meet her at the lake and they’d gone for a naked swim together, but he’d always been a gentleman and the encounter had caused him far more embarrassment than anything else.

            “Yes.” She said sounding sure of herself. “The middle of the last day of classes where everyone with good sense in their head has left the castle and headed down to the train station for the last train home.” She took his hands in hers and gave them a warm squeeze. “Are you going to come with me or not?”

            The older Severus moved to follow them as together they ducked through a hidden corridor at the back of the classroom, but he found that he had no need. The room seemed to swirl around him and he was with the shades of his past once more. Only this time they’d appeared in a much smaller room. It was decorated with strands of silvery tinsel and there was a warm fire glowing in a hearth topped with a Christmas wreath. A sofa was diagonal of the fireplace and in front of it stood a tiny Christmas tree, the same height as Lily.

            “Do you like it?” she asked.

            “It’s beautiful,” the Severus’ answered together.

            Severus cupped his hand over his mouth but then remembered that they could neither see nor hear him as they were merely reflections of what had happened. He watched closely.

            Lily guided Severus to sit on the tiny sofa, just next to her, their legs touching her hands resting in his lap. Young Severus blushed a little and looked at the tree. It was decorated with shiny snowflakes and little glass balls, candy canes and an assortment of other shiny trinkets that made his heart feel gooey.

            “How did you find the time to…” his voice trailed off. “It is beautiful, Lily. Did you transfigure most of it?”

            It was the witch’s turn to blush. “Yes.” One more she took his hands in hers. “I know you said you don’t get home for the Christmas holiday much and I can’t imagine that Christmas here is the same…” her lips were warm as they brushed his cheek. “So I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you, with my best friend.”

            She leaned her lips once more close to his face and was just about to tilt her head to press him into a kiss when young Severus turned his head away. “You’re staying here this Christmas? What about your family?”

            Lily caught her breath and choked out a slight giggle. “They’ll manage just fine; Petunia always was a little spoiled around the holidays so it’ll be a relieving change of pace.” With ease she jumped up from the sofa. “I nearly forgot! Come down here.” She crossed her legs and sat beneath the tree, patting a spot on the rug beside her.

            It was clear to Severus, as he watched his younger self and the young Lily Evans that she had created a Christmas paradise for him in the Room of Requirement. He’d nearly forgotten that special holiday it seemed so long ago.

            “Present.” She said, reaching under the pine branches and handing him a package. It was wrapped in shiny green paper with a silver ribbon and bow tied around it.

            Young Severus frowned. “I didn’t get you anything.”

            “It’s ok.” She smiled.

            Young Severus shifted uncomfortably as the package was placed in his hands, He hated receiving presents, meaning that someone had bothered to have spent money they could have used elsewhere on him. And he especially hated having nothing to give to her in return. But she seemed so eager with her smile. “Th—thank you,” he said and a tiny slip of a smile crossed his lips.

            With care young Severus untied the ribbon. He set the package beside them on the carpet and leaned closer to Lily. Nimble fingers gathered her auburn hair at the base of her neck and he tied the ribbon into her tresses, letting the bow set slightly off to the side of the top of her head. She smiled. “It’s the best present ever.”

            He reached down and picked up the shiny green wrapping and when he carefully turned down the edges what he saw nearly took his breath away.

            “The stirring rods…” older Severus muttered. He’d forgotten them. His eyes fell closed and thought back to his nightstand in the drafty little house. They were tucked away in the top drawer, nestled together inside a velvet drawstring pouch.

            Young Severus turned them over in his hands. They were heavy obsidian and glimmered as brightly as the shiny balls on the tree. “Lily—”

            But before he could start with protests of ‘you shouldn’t have’ or ‘these must have cost a fortune’ she had leaned forward into his lap and thrown her arms around him. “Happy Christmas, Severus.”

            “Happy Christmas, Lily.” As she pulled back from the hug, she slowly gazed into his eyes. Young Severus could feel his cheeks turning red and hardly expected what came next. Their lips met her hands tangled in his hair and in the shock of the moment he dropped the stirring rods against the carpet.

            Tongues circled each other and after the momentary shock settled within him young Severus found his hands wrapping around her neck and gently tickling the fine hairs there. Their embrace in each other’s arms stayed as fire dimmed, but it wasn’t the fire dimming, the whole scene seemed to go dark.

            “You are incredibly lucky I’m a Saint,” the ghost of James Potter had once more appeared by his side. They were standing in the Great Hall, though it was empty.

            Severus said nothing, but he did allow a tiny smirk to come to his lips, and then he changed his mind. “I do believe there was more to that particular afternoon…” he trailed off.

            “I’m supposed to show you Christmas memories where you are happy, not where you’re being a horny bastard and taking advantage of other bloke’s girls.” He sneered.

            Severus couldn’t help but chuckle and then closed his eyes on the thought, trying to recall how sweet she had tasted.

            “Come on, you sod, there was another Christmas where you were happy…” he trailed off.

            Severus gazed around the Great Hall but the walls did not stay still for very long. This time the ghost wasn’t even touching him and the room began to spin. But it only took a moment for it to settle. He recognized the scene all too well. They were still at Hogwarts, and the Great Hall was decorated to the finest he’d ever seen it.

            “The Ministry Ball…” he said.

            “Very good, Severus, you’re catching on.”

            “But I didn’t—”

            “Shush, you grumpy bat.” The shade of James Potter floated toward the buffet table and helped himself to a glass of punch, though it poured right through him when he tipped it to his lips.

            Severus Snape gazed around the room. It had been just after the fall of the Dark Lord. If they’d known then that his fall was only a temporary setback, that his followers would rise and destroy the wizarding world in a more crippling economic way, one force at a time, they might not have been so lenient on the survivors.

            But he hadn’t attended the big Ministry Ball that Albus Dumbledore, lying survivor extraordinaire, had insisted be held at Hogwarts. He had politely declined the invitation over a dozen times and remained in his chambers, working on Potions essays. There was dancing and drinking and merriment of all kinds but his eyes caught on the scene that seemed to come into sharp focus.

            “Beg your pardon,” Hermione Granger smiled as she bumped into Minerva McGonagall.

            “Oh, Hermione, how lovely it is to see you.” The Deputy Headmistress had imbibed far too much liquor and her spirits were high.

            “Yes, Happy Christmas.” Hermione nodded politely though she seemed distracted.

            “Whatever is the matter, dear?”

            “You haven’t seen Professor Snape, have you? I had wanted a word with him…”

            Severus didn’t listen to whatever witty criticism Minerva had offered, his mind was too busy reeling on why Hermione Granger had asked to find him. “No…” the word slipped from his lips.

            “Oh yes…” the ghost of James Potter said, trying to balance several fruitcakes on his ectoplasmic head, ultimately failing.

            The crowd shushed as Albus Dumbledore called their attentions. And he began his series of little speeches and toasts. He’d run through the list of names, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and that had fallen, giving himself no credit, and had just concluded a speech about the bravery of the House Elves when Hermione Granger cleared her throat and spoke up.

            “To Severus Snape,” she said and raised her glass high in the air.

            Severus stared at her in utter disbelief.

            “Ah, yes, how could I forget my dear Severus,” said Albus with an almost imperceptive wink in Hermione’s direction.

            He did not get the chance to hear what words of wisdom Albus would impart on his behalf because the room shifted. And he was inside his chambers in the dungeon, watching his younger self seated over a desk in his study.

            “Would you stop doing that without telling me—” but he found that he was once again alone, the spirit of James Potter having vanished.

            There was a knock at the door. He turned to answer it, only to see his younger self rise from the study, cross through the sitting room and stand facing the door. “Enter.” His younger self said, waving his arms to lower the wards.

            “Forgive my calling so late,” Hermione Granger nodded as she stepped into his chambers. “But I didn’t see you at the Celebration upstairs…”

            “That is correct.” Younger Severus said flatly.

            Again Severus was in silent shock as the scene unfolded before him, the harsh shadows of his past dancing kindly before his eyes.

            “Yes, well I wanted to wish you Happy Christmas, sir. It is Christmas Eve.”

            Severus said nothing as he titled his head to gaze at the calendar mounted upon the wall. “So it is.” He said.

            “Surely you don’t wish to spend Christmas Eve alone…” Hermione tried not to blush. She hadn’t meant to sound as if she were offering him company, though she supposed she would stay if he requested it of her, after all he’d done for the war efforts, and no one— not even Severus Snape— deserved to be alone on Christmas.

            “’Tis just another day, Miss Granger.” He shrugged. Young Severus gazed at the witch before him. “If your well wishes are said, then surely you do not wish to be spending Christmas Eve so far from those who desire your company, I bid you goodnight.” His tone lacked the usual acid that would have dismissed the girl without further question, and unfortunately for him, Hermione took note.

            Hermione stepped closer to him, a bit unsure of herself at first, but then she found her Gryffindor confidence and moved until she was standing before him only a few inches between them. “I want to thank you.”

            “Gratitude is not necessary,” he said somewhat dismissively.

            “For everything you’ve done for us, everything you’ve done for Harry and Ron— for me…” her eyes were like wide windows as a flurry of emotions swam through them. “You don’t often receive credit when credit is due, sir.” She concluded.

            As young Severus opened his mouth to protest her words he was stopped by her hands appearing in front of him. Hermione held a tiny parcel, shiny red paper tied with a golden ribbon. “I know they’re Gryffindor colours…” she blushed and then straightened her figure to stand at her fullest height, which was still two heads shorter than the wizard that stood before her. “Happy Christmas, Professor Snape.”

            Severus watched as his younger self slowly took the package from her hands. She waited eagerly just as Lily had done, and her eyes never left his face. The younger Severus carefully undid the ribbon, which slithered through his arms to the floor, and then turned down the corners of the wrapping.

            It was not a pair of cufflinks, or a set of stirring rods, just a simple woolen scarf, hand-woven with green, black, and silver wool. “This is unnecessary.” He said.

            Hermione swallowed hard, she would not crumble before the man even if he had insulted her. “Everyone needs a Christmas present,” she said. It had spent her weeks knitting the thing together, and she’d started over on three separate occasions. “Even you.”

            The younger Severus gazed at the craftsmanship he held in his hand. Truth be told it was a lovely scarf, but the last time he’d accepted such a precious gift from anyone, let alone a bright young witch, things had not worked out so well. He gave a curt nod and then went to place the scarf on the arm of the sofa only he found that he could not move.

            “What in Merlin’s beard?” he hissed under his breath. Try as he might the younger Severus was unable to move his feet from the floor. “Miss Granger if this was some ill-guided rouse to let someone play a foul trick—”

            “No, sir!” she cried. “I can’t move either!” Hermione, try as she might, was unable to lift her feet from the floor, and was stuck facing him, just centimeters apart.

            They both seemed to discover it simultaneously. Hermione gazed up, her eyes nearly going cross. Younger Severus did the same and he scowled. Albus Dumbledore’s notion of holiday cheer was far from making him merry.

            “I don’t suppose we could blast it?” Hermione offered.

            Severus shook his head watching his younger self debate over the dilemma. He had forgotten about the enchanted mistletoe that Dumbledore had insisted travel throughout the castle on Christmas Eve.

            “I don’t suppose so,” his younger self said without much cheer in his voice.

            “And the enchantment will only lift if we—”

            “Yes.”

            “I see.” Hermione said. She could not help the full blush that rose into her cheeks.

            Younger Severus rolled his eyes. It was bad enough he was going to have to kiss the girl and Albus Dumbledore was a clever man, not just a quick peck on the cheek but an actual kiss. As he recalled the enchanted mistletoe had led to numerous embarrassing and awkward situations over the years.

            “For the spirit of Christmas,” she said with a very sheepish smile.

            “Bah,” younger Severus said. “Humbug.”

            Hermione frowned, but then she took her hands and placed them both on top of his shoulders. Younger Severus did not question her, he did not move to displace her from his person, not that he would have been able to, but he waited. She leaned up on her tiptoes and closed her eyes. “Happy Christmas, Severus Snape.”

            Perhaps it was the enchantment, or the fact that she’d used his given name, but it had thrown him off balance a little and he found himself leaning forward into her. Their lips met and he let his eyes fall closed. Her tongue was soft, slick like velvet as his lips parted. She tasted sweet like a candy cane, and his mind was overwhelmed by the sensation of it all. It had been a long time since a witch had kissed him, Lily Evans had been the last, and he lost his bearings for a moment.

            Hermione found her hands wrapping around his neck, leaning closer to him, their chests pressing together. His scent was strong, and his lips smooth. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that he tasted slightly bitter like whiskey, but his jaw was so strong, and his tongue was alive, moving and caressing hers, she hadn’t noticed that their feet had been freed.

            It happened so quickly, he found his arms around her back, and her fingers were lacing through his hair. It was surprisingly soft if a little tangled and she felt herself smile into their kiss. His body was pressed against hers and she could feel her breasts heaving, nipples straining against the fabric of her bra. It was almost embarrassing and yet so very pleasant at the same time.

            Her cheeks were tinged with a full crimson blush when he finally pulled back from their kiss. His breathing was heavy and he cleared his throat, looking away, though his hands were still wrapped around her. “Forgive me.”

            “It’s Christmas, there’s nothing to forgive…” she whispered, blushing even brighter if that were possible.

            “It was inappropriate.”

            Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Her whole body tingled. Partially with the heat from their kiss, with arousal from being pressed so close to his body, and partially with shame, she seemed wanton and brash, and partially with disappointment, though she wasn’t sure she had been expecting anything to become of it.

            Her eyes met his. “It was a thank you,” she said softly and then closed her eyes once more. “And for Christmas…” she let her words trail off as younger Severus searched her eyes. She couldn’t read him, his obsidian orbs were a swirling pool of masked emotion, but she felt open, laid bare before his gaze as he kept her close. She made to shift out of his embrace, feeling sufficiently awkward, but he’d side-stepped as she moved and they found themselves pressed together once more.

            Hermione bit her lower lip and then shook her head. “Sod it,” she muttered and stood up on her toes once more. He did not resist her as her lips came to his. And they kissed again, tongues meeting, hands groping at one another, lips bruising, bodies yearning.

            His hands were around her waist and then she was back against the sofa, reclining on it as he lined his body atop hers. Their kisses were fevered and then his lips trailed across her jaw and down the curve of her neck. She whimpered from the loss of his kiss but groaned when she felt him suckling her flesh.

            He paused for a moment, his hands massaging her arms, hesitating as if waiting for permission before moving to her breasts. He caught her gaze. “This is—”

            “Christmas,” she muttered, and sat up, taking his hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. “This is Christmas…” her lips parted and she kissed him, bringing her hands up to touch his chest, hoping he would mimic her in his actions. A frenzy of kisses and touches and before long hands had made their way beneath clothing, unfastening trousers, unhooking bras, and Hermione was panting wildly beneath him.

            “You’ve got one more to see…” the ghost of James Potter grumbled and the scene quickly went dark.

            Severus did not say a word as the room swirled around him. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to stay and see how that scene had finished. Her, falling asleep in his arms, on the floor by the fire, and he watching her sleep while he tossed and turned over the possibilities in his head.

            “I think I am done with your Christmas past sight-seeing,” Severus said.

            “Look I’ve only got a few more minutes and we’ve got one more to see,” the shade said.

            There was a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach because Severus thought he knew exactly which memory of Christmas past he was headed to. And all too soon he was proved to be correct. They sat outside the little church in the snow, watching as the last of the mourners walked away from the churchyard. The stone bench was cold, mostly covered in snow, but she sat there, weeping against his shoulder.

            “It was a terrible loss,” the younger Severus muttered to Hermione.

            “He never got married.” She said.

            Younger Severus remained quiet, stroking the girl’s hair. She’d brought the subject up far too often for his tastes, but more so now that her precious friend Potter had fallen. Severus Snape was not a marrying man and times were getting worse.

            “We will get married, won’t we?” she whimpered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Before this fate befalls one of us.”

            He remained quiet. His eyes were hard set, gazing ahead at the peaceful churchyard. “In time if that is what is necessary…”

            “Necessary?” Hermione choked on her words. “Necessary? Marriage is not necessary; it is something two people do when they love each other, Severus.”

            She stood from the bench and began to meander through the churchyard. He was quick to follow. It had been nearly three years since that Christmas Eve at Hogwarts. They’d been together as often as his work would permit, and he did feel strongly for the girl, but the last time he’d let love rule his decisions, it hadn’t ended so well. He followed her into the churchyard and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind.

            “You do love me, don’t you?” she asked, not facing him.

            Younger Severus rested his chin on her shoulder. “You know I am a complicated man, Hermione.”

            “Tell her you love her, you idiot,” Severus hissed at himself, but then rolled his eyes, having forgotten that he was merely reflecting upon his memories of Christmas past.

            “Yes, I know, Severus. But three years. Three years and never once have you said you love me. Three years and all you do is talk of surviving for tomorrow. But what good is surviving for tomorrow if you have no one to survive with? What good is making sure we have money to sustain us if there is no us to sustain?” Hermione turned to face him, tears streaking down her cheek.

            “Hermione…” he didn’t know what to say. He could feel the knot building in his stomach, and it was now or never, but he shook his head. “Time…I need more time…I want to provide for you…”

            She trembled, tears continuing to fall from her eyes. “I’m out of time,” she muttered. Hermione stood up on her tip toes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and she pulled back. “Goodbye, Severus…”

            He stood beside his younger self and watched as Hermione turned in the churchyard and walked slowly away. That was the last time he would ever see Hermione Granger. The scene faded to black and without realizing it, Severus Snape had returned to his bed chambers. The ghost of James Potter was gone and he wondered if perhaps it had all been a dream.

            His bedclothes were a shambles, the curtains askew from his encounter with the shade, and he sighed. “Bah,” he muttered. “Humbug.” And in a few moments, Severus Snape had settled himself into his bed, righted his nightcap on his head, and drawn the curtains closed. Darkness consumed him and within moments he fell back to sleep.
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The Tale of Ebenezer Snape