Armilla

Chapter 38

Hogwarts certainly became a lot quieter once the majority of students had left for the holidays. School had finished for the term on Friday and all students going home for the holidays had left early on Saturday morning. An hour after I had hugged and kissed my friends goodbye, I found myself completely alone in the Ravenclaw common room, apparently the only Ravenclaw staying at school.

Since Snape's "talk" with them, Lisa and Terry had been very careful about what conversations we held in public. Any personal topics were only covered when we were sure we couldn't be overheard. Though the two were even more alert and even more intimidated by Snape in Potions, they seemed to have found a new level of respect for him.

The night after Snape's talk, Lisa had said very seriously, "You know, Mill, even though Snape has this tough façade, he is certainly protective of you."

Terry had agreed at once, "Yeah. I wouldn't say he is affectionate towards you or anything, but you can tell that he cares."

I knew that Snape did care for me in his own way; how could I not at this stage? But hearing it from my friends kind of...confirmed it for me...and comforted me.

As the weekend passed, I concluded that Snape and I were remaining at the school for Christmas, especially since I saw a number of Slytherins around the school, obviously staying for the holidays. Snape hadn't mentioned Christmas to me since the night before I went to Hogsmeade. I wasn't expecting to have much of a celebration with him anyway. He just didn't seem the jovial, spirited sort of man. I was planning to just go down to the dungeons on Monday morning, Christmas morning, to give him his chocolates and then go up to the feast with him. That would be good enough for both of us.

After our Saturday afternoon lesson, I returned to Ravenclaw Tower to have some "me" time. I laid on my bed, letting my thoughts wander from one thing to another.

I hadn't dreamed about Shar since that night at the Merrigan Estate. But like Snape had implied at the cemetery, whenever I thought of Merle, I thought of Shar. Since Christmas was so close, Merle was certainly not far from my mind at the moment. Though I had asked Snape for help in dealing with my grief, he still hadn't said anything since that day. I did wonder whether he had forgotten about me admitting that I would depend on him for something. But then I reminded myself that Snape was a double agent and as such, would possess a mind that didn't allow him to forget anything. I then wondered if Snape wasn't mentioning that conversation on purpose, to allow me time to think about Shar being in the way of my acceptance of Merle's death. After all, the man was a Slytherin and could be perfectly cunning when he wished to.

Before long, my thoughts turned to the days in front of me. My stay with my father was now drawing very near and I found myself occluding more than ever in an attempt to keep my emotions at bay. Not knowing what I was going to do there all day was really bothering me. I was actually hoping to see as little of my father as possible - hopefully he was a "children should be seen (very, very rarely) and not heard" sort of man. Since first year I had always thought Snape to be that sort of man. He had even admitted to me that children had never been on his life's agenda.

I was starting to feel a bit depressed after thinking about Merle and my father too long, so I got up, took a shower and then got started on my holiday homework. I knew I would have to get it done quite early since my time at my father's place could be limited. It was depressing to think that the majority of my Christmas holidays were going to be spent with him. I would have preferred to spend the time alone in Ravenclaw Tower. I was also down because I hadn't been able to see my mother that morning. Dumbledore had been away for the day and now I wouldn't see her until the New Year.

As I was working on a particularly tricky Potions essay (Snape had been kind enough to set a complicated essay for the holidays), I was suddenly struck with the thought of what I would have been doing right now if I hadn't discovered Snape was my brother. Would I have some foster family? Would I be at Hogwarts for the holidays? Then of course, my mind jumped to the memory of Snape saying that he wouldn't give me up now if he was given the option. That memory created a warmth in my heart, not unlike the feeling when Snape had touched my bracelet. In all honesty, though we weren't a typical, and certainly not a warm and affectionate family, if given the option, I wouldn't have given Snape up now either. It was still difficult sometimes to distinguish him from my teacher to my brother, but I had grown accustomed to him being in my life. And something inside told me that the feeling was mutual.

I didn't see Snape in the Great Hall that night at dinner, though there weren't many people around anyway and I supposed they were all eating at different times. I didn't see him all day on Sunday, Christmas Eve, either. I spent the majority of the day on my bed doing homework and packing for my visit to my father's house.

At around seven o' clock that evening, I returned to my dorm after having dinner with a couple of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in the Great Hall. Flitwick had bewitched the little angels on the Christmas trees to sing Silent Night and Come All Ye Faithful and I had left dinner early, as the slow music had brought unwanted tears to my eyes. Merle used to sing those very songs to me every Christmas Eve before bedtime. I had walked all the way back to my dorm trying to occlude to send the tears away. Satisfied at my success, but still with a very heavy heart, I pulled an old album out of my trunk and sat up against the pillows on my bed.

I had avoided even touching the album since Merle's death. Looking at photos of us from my childhood would have been too painful. I knew it wasn't good for a mind trying to occlude, but I had the sudden urge to see her face again. I had never had this album at school before. Matilda had borrowed it from Merle a while back and she had returned it to me via owl post not long ago. I knew that looking through it would bring Shar's face to my mind as well, but if I looked at the photos often enough, hopefully his image in my mind would fade away in time, like Snape had said.

I didn't know how long I sat there, turning the pages. There were photos of me as a baby with Merle and Matilda. There were plenty of me learning to walk. The album finished when I was about ten. The rest of the albums with later photos were in my vault at Gringotts with the other valuables from Merle's house. I felt little happy sparks inside me as I looked at every photo, but with every turn of the page, my heart grew heavier. I longed for her. I longed for a hug and kiss from her. I longed for a smile that would tell me that everything would be alright. I longed for her love.

With shaking hands, I finally put the album back in my open trunk. I hadn't cried at all, and though I felt full of emotion inside, Shar's face wasn't bothering me as much. It was certainly still there, but it wasn't as intense. Snape had been right. Shar would fade away, but looking at the album had told me that it certainly wouldn't be an easy process.

Wanting to distract myself and make my heart feel lighter, I reached for my chocolate frog card to turn it into my textbooks. I wanted to do some last minute reading. I didn't know why my heart grew heavier when I saw that the wizard wasn't waving at me to indicate a new message from Snape. It wasn't as if I was expecting one. We had finished all our lessons now. I had no reason to see him.

I immersed myself in the glossary page at the end of one of the books, going over the spells I had practised with Snape, remembering the specific enunciation and wand movement of each one. By the time I got to the 'S' section, I was becoming very drowsy and warm.

"A fine way to be spending Christmas Eve," said a deep voice.

Thankfully, I wasn't so startled that I leapt off my bed. But suddenly hearing Snape's voice inside Ravenclaw Tower certainly gave me a shock. He was standing in the doorway, looking quite out of place in a girl's dorm.

"Startle you, did I?" he said smirking, as he walked into the room.

"I didn't know you could come in here," I said, putting my book down.

Snape sneered slightly, though it didn't seem as if his whole heart was in it.

"I'm a teacher, Armilla," he said. "I can go anywhere I please within this castle." He leaned against the bedpost at the foot of my bed, looking down at me closely. "Though I will admit to not having been in Ravenclaw Tower before."

"Is it better than Slytherin?" I asked, giving him a sly smile.

He scoffed. "Certainly not. It's hotter up here."

He continued to watch me closely, as if trying to work something out. Not liking that sort of attention, I got off my bed, picked up a few books off the floor and went to put them in my trunk, which was lying open next to him. I knew that Snape's gaze followed every move.

Finally, having run out of out things to put away, I straightened up again and looked expectantly at my brother. He had to have a reason for coming all the way up to Ravenclaw Tower after all.

"I haven't seen much of you this weekend," he said, folding his arms.

"You saw me yesterday," I said. "I've been doing homework. I wanted to have it all done."

"And did you finish?"

"Yes."

Snape nodded. "Good." He was still watching me closely. I didn't know what he was expecting of me.

"Were you planning on staying up here tonight?" he asked in a quiet voice.

I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "I suppose so," I answered.

"Why aren't you staying in the dungeons tonight?" Now he looked a bit stern.

"It's not Friday," I replied quietly.

"I'm well aware of that," he said sharply, his eyes narrowed.

I looked away, not knowing what to say.

"Well then, let me ask you what day it is, Armilla," he said. "I'll wait until you are looking at me, of course."

Biting my lip, I looked up at my brother's serious face. Remembering then that Snape took my 'biting my lip' habit as an indication of nerves, I stopped.

"I do believe today is Sunday," he went on. "But I would be surprised if you could not tell me what else today is. Care to enlighten me?" he asked derisively.

"Christmas Eve," I answered quietly.

"Indeed," he said curtly, his eyes narrowed. "You know, I seem to remember being reminded myself that it was Christmas not long ago."

I hoped that I wouldn't blush.

"And seeing as it was you who reminded me of that fact," he went on, his expression growing harsher, "I find it surprising that you would choose to stay up here by yourself on Christmas Eve."

I didn't know how to get myself out of this one. I must have really offended him. But how was I to know? Snape hadn't mentioned me going down there to stay with him on Christmas Eve.

But it's Christmas Eve, a voice in my head said. You wouldn't have asked permission from Merle to stay with her at Christmas. But this was Snape. He was a busy man. He didn't have leisure time for a fifteen-year-old who was feeling lonely. I knew now that I wasn't a burden, of course, but knocking on his door simply for entertainment or just company was a level I hadn't reached yet. Clearly, Snape knew this.

"And even if it weren't Christmas," Snape said. "Do you think you need a purpose to come down to the dungeons?"

"No," I said softly.

He gave me a shrewd look. "I'm glad you've realised that," he coldly.

I looked away again, my heart heavier than ever. I hated him being angry with me.

Snape sighed. "Don't start agonising that you have mortally offended me," he said. He reached out and lifted my chin so that I had to look at him again. "I believe it is just a matter of you being able to distinguish where our school relationship ends and our family relationship starts. I know there will be a problem if you start knocking on the door to our rooms in the dungeons." He gave me a significant look. "You don't knock on the door of your own home."

I thought my heart dropped down even further. It was so bizarre to hear Snape say something like that. And I felt even worse for not having gone down to the dungeons earlier.

"I'm sorry," I said, when Snape released me.

"You apologise too much," he said, sneering. "I believe I just told you not to agonise over it?"

"I can't help it," I muttered.

"Well attempt to," Snape replied, his eyes narrowed again.

He looked around the dorm. "Have you packed?"

"Yes, my bag's in the wardrobe."

"Good. Well, let's go then. There's no reason to stay any longer up here. That is, unless you do want to sleep here tonight?" Snape stopped halfway to the door and turned around, his expression hard.

I shook my head, fighting back the annoying tears that seemed too near the surface lately for my liking. But I had promised not to occlude in front of Snape.

Snape's face softened slightly. "Come then," he said, gesturing for me to join him.

Not looking back (and quite glad that I hadn't changed yet - I didn't fancy walking through the school in my pyjamas), I followed Snape out of the dorm, through the common room and out into the school's freezing corridors.

As usual, Snape was silent. I wanted to break his silence, just so I could be sure that he wasn't that angry with me, but the only topics of conversation I could think of weren't suitable for castle corridors where we could be overheard. There was always the weather, but bringing that up as a topic of conversation would be boring and trivial. And no doubt Snape would think it offensive, since generally you spoke animatedly about the weather to strangers only. I would have been offended if that was all Snape had to talk about to me.

So we walked all the way down to the dungeons in silence and I didn't speak again until we had arrived in Snape's sitting room. Immediately upon entering, I spotted my mother's ring sitting on the coffee table.

Feeling a jolt of excitement, I stopped in my tracks.

"What's that doing here?" I asked, gesturing towards the ring.

Snape shook his head. "Thought Dumbledore wouldn't let you see your mother before Christmas, did you?"

I didn't answer. Dumbledore was a nice old wizard, really, but I had thought I wasn't going to see Mother.

"I'll take that as a yes," Snape said, sneering slightly.

He walked passed me and sat down on the sofa in front of the ring. He looked up at me expectantly.

"Are you going to stand there all night or come and talk to your mother?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

No matter what he said, he did still seem to be angry with me. He hadn't sneered this much at me since my days in the Secret Wing. Trying to ignore this worry, I joined him on the sofa and peered into the ring.

There she was. My mother's face was smiling up at me.

"Ah, there you are, dearest," she said. "I've been waiting for you for a long time. Severus thought you would come down sooner."

I said nothing. If I said anything, I would remind Snape that I hadn't come down because it wasn't Friday and he would get even angrier.

"In the end Severus had to go and get you himself before you went to bed," Mother went on, her expressing calculating. I knew that expression. My brother wore it quite frequently.

Next to me, Snape was also listening, but seemed to have nothing to say either.

"I do wonder, Armilla," Mother continued, "if you feel uncomfortable coming to see your brother without a visit being organised by him."

Again, I still said nothing. I realised that I was biting my lip again and quickly stopped, though Snape's sharp eye would surely have noticed.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Mother, echoing the words Snape had used just moments ago. She turned to look at Severus. "I do hope, Severus, that you are doing everything in your power to make Armilla comfortable."

"It's not his fault, it's mine," I said, before Snape could answer. I didn't look at him, but I knew he was looking at me.

"Oh." Mother looked a bit perplexed at that.

"No," said Snape in a waspish voice. "Armilla has a fetish for overcompensating me with apologies. I do believe she thinks her presence in my life is depriving me of my valuable time."

"Oh," said Mother again, her face worried as her eyes flitted between the two of us.

"Indeed," said Snape, fixing his gaze on Mother, seemingly determined not to look at me. "In fact, I highly doubt that she would come down here at all if I didn't schedule it."

"Armilla, does everything Severus says sound familiar to you?"

Slowly, I nodded.

What happened next, I certainly didn't anticipate. Mother laughed! Actually laughed! I couldn't believe it! Nor apparently, could Snape. He was looking at Mother as if she had just swallowed a crazy cocktail potion.

Finally, wiping tears of laughter away, Mother spoke again.

"Dear me, the looks on your faces! How very alike the two of you are when you're both frowning. I never realised it before."

I didn't know how to reply to that. Lisa had made a very similar comment once before. It seemed Snape didn't know how to respond to the comment either. It didn't matter though, for after chuckling further still, Mother kept talking.

"Lord, Severus, you must be a formidable teacher. To have a sister be that terrified of you because of all her school experiences with you..." Mother trailed off, shaking her head.

Snape folded his arms, his eyes narrowed. "She's not terrified of me," he huffed, looking quite ill-tempered. He turned to glare at me. "Are you?" he asked harshly.

"I wouldn't say terrified," I said quietly, meeting his gaze. "Not anymore."

"You'll just have to grow used to his temperament, dear," said Mother, smiling. "It's a questionable one, I know, and I did my very best to-"

"There is no need to talk about me as if I was not here," Snape snapped, looking quite affronted, glowering at Mother.

Mother glared at him now. "No wonder she's nervous of you, Severus. Maybe if you didn't scowl so much-"

"There is no need to be discussing my temperament," Snape interrupted, in a dangerous tone. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest and I have no intentions of changing it."

Mother opened her mouth to argue, but Snape pressed on. "I do believe the purpose of this visit was to wish your daughter a happy Christmas?" He raised an eyebrow at his mother.

Mother scowled. "If you were five, Severus, I would-"

"Alas, I am not," said Snape smoothly. "And it has been a long time since I was. Perhaps you would care to talk to your other child, the one who has been five more recently than I?" And with that, Snape got up and left the room, his black robes billowing out behind him. I heard the door slam as he went into his office.

Mother looked slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said to me. "I shouldn't have provoked him. I'm reminded of when he was a teenager."

I shrugged.

"Well, despite his temperament, I still love him," she said, her eyes watering now. "I can't help it," she went on, giving a small laugh. "I'm a biased mother, but I still find everything about him lovable."

I smiled. At least if Father had never shown any real love to Snape, Mother certainly had, even if they did have their arguments.

We continued to talk for another half hour, discussing everything from what I was giving my friends for Christmas to how many OWLs I was hoping to get. Finally, as Mother was describing her first broomstick, Snape came out of his office, looking slightly less ill-natured.

"It's time for bed, Armilla," he said.

"Oh, it's Christmas Eve, Severus," said Mother. "Surely she can have another hour?"

"Certainly not," Snape replied, stacking some loose parchments on the dining table. "She has tired herself out from staring at books all day and she needs the sleep."

"Oh, very well," Mother sighed, evidently knowing that her son was not to be convinced. "My ring is going back up to Professor Dumbledore's office tonight, so I will not see you tomorrow. I hope you have a lovely Christmas, dear."

"Thankyou," I said softly, getting up. Snape came over at that moment. He sat down on the sofa, obviously wanting to speak to Mother again.

"Go and get ready for bed," he said. "I will be in shortly."

I nodded and left Snape alone with Mother. Well that was new, I thought, as I went into my bedroom. Snape generally didn't come into my bedroom after I went to bed.

A few minutes later, when I came out of the bathroom, I thought I heard Dumbledore's voice out in the sitting room. He must have come to collect my mother's ring.

I changed into my pyjamas, trying not to think about having angered Snape. Before long, my thoughts flew back to photos of Merle in the album in my trunk and my heart grew heavier than ever. I certainly didn't seem to be doing a good job showing appreciation to the person who was my guardian now, especially when my mind kept wandering back to the guardian who had died.

Ten minutes later, as I was getting into bed, Snape came in, his expression unfathomable now.

"Dumbledore took Mother's ring back up to his office," he said quietly, coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

I nodded.

Snape folded his arms, watching me closely. "You don't have to explain to me all the things that are on your mind," he said. "But be aware that I do know that they are there."

I looked back at him and suddenly felt guilty that I had kept my grievances to myself again. I had decided to be content with my loneliness in Ravenclaw Tower. It was a habit I had to break.

"I know you know," I said softly.

"You forget sometimes?" Snape's hard expression had softened a little.

I shook my head. "No..."

He suddenly nodded. "Ah, yes, forgive me, but this is a classic example of not wanting to take up my time?"

"I suppose..."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, after Christmas we may not need to have as many extra lessons down here." He gave me a significant look. "Does that mean I will be seeing little of you? Will you only grace me with your presence in Potions?" he added sardonically.

"I don't think so," I said.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Go on," he said, looking suspicious.

"I wouldn't mind coming down here," I said, "now that I know I don't need a reason to."

"I can't believe I had to point that out to you," he said mockingly, moving forward to sit on my bed. "Fancy having to point something out to a Ravenclaw...shocking."

I gave him a half-hearted glare. "So you seriously wouldn't care if I came down here any day at any time?"

Snape considered this for a moment. "Well that depends on whether I had specifically told you not to," he answered. "But otherwise, like I said before, you can't really intrude on your own home."

I nodded. "I know."

"Which leads me back to the other issue," he went on. "You know you need not worry about coming down here, but you do worry about intruding on my own time?"

"Yeah..."

"As much as I loathe to admit it, perhaps the reason for that lies in what Mother said before about your experiences as a student since first year." Snape was frowning slightly. He clearly hadn't liked Mother pointing that out to him.

"It doesn't help," I said slowly. "But it would be the same for anyone else. Except for the Slytherins of course," I added as an afterthought. "I think most the other Houses are intimidated by you."

Snape actually looked satisfied at this statement. "Then, clearly, I am not going soft," he said. "You know, no student has ever admitted that to me before."

"That's because they would be terrified at what you would say to them," I said indignantly.

Snape looked pensive for a moment. "Well...there are many ways in which I could reply..."

"Do any of them not involve detention?"

He gave a small, very sly smile. "Of course not. Didn't I just say that I'm not going soft? I've got to keep up appearances."

"Well there is a bright side," I said, playing with the lacy hem of my sheets.

"What's that?"

"I'm glad I'm not a Gryffindor," I said. "I don't think you would have let me into your home if I was."

Snape scowled. "Perish the thought," he said. "It bothers me enough that you're in the same year as Potter."

I wanted to ask what was wrong with Harry, but I decided against it, as I thought Snape's hatred for the boy was something I would never understand.

"We've gotten off topic," said Snape. "Just be clear that your intrusion-on-my-time thing is a product of your imagination, and I may not hex you for showing up in the middle of the night for no reason at all" He narrowed his eyes. "But I make no promises."

I smiled. Maybe he wasn't so angry after all. Or maybe he had recovered more quickly than usual.

"Enough talk," said Snape standing up. "You need to sleep."

"Alright," I said, moving my pillows so I could lay down on them.

Snape extinguished the light with a flick of his wand. "Goodnight, Armilla," he said, closing the door behind him.

"Goodnight, Severus."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

I woke to the sound of soft hooting. Slightly dazed, I shook my head, thinking I had dreamed the sound. No, there it was again. Something in the room was hooting insistently.

Oh damn it, I thought. Terry had obviously given me a hooting alarm clock to pay me back for the rooster alarm clock I had given him last year. I had thought it was very funny at the time.

I was already annoyed that Terry had even taken the pains to set the clock to wake me up early. The clock on my bedside table said that it was only seven o'clock. Grunting, I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The hooting got louder.

"Damn you, Terry," I muttered grumpily, as the room came into focus. I crawled forward to peer over the foot of my bed, looking for the clock so I could turn it off.

Instead, my eyes met two sparkling amber eyes. No, wait, brown eyes...no...green eyes? What the hell?

It was an owl! At least I thought it was an owl. It kept changing its features though. One moment it was brown with white flecks, and then a split second later it was snowy white. Just when I decided that I preferred the snowy white, it turned black with ruffled feathers and looked quite fearsome. I didn't know what to make of the creature. At least I had located the source of the sound.

"Well, you're not an alarm clock," I muttered, eyeing the bird suspiciously.

"That's very astute of you," said a deep voice. "Really, you're quite perceptive at this time of the morning."

I jumped. Snape was standing in the doorway, fully dressed, holding a small box.

He strode into the room and threw the box onto my bed. "Chocolate stars," he sneered. 'The man always delivers.'

"Well, obviously he thinks you like them," I said.

"No, he thinks it's funny," Snape corrected. "You can have them at any rate. I also received chocolate that I do like. Thankyou."

"No problem," I replied, still eyeing the bird. "Do you think it will attack me if I let it out of the cage?"

"You never know," he replied, now eyeing the creature as well. "How many limbs do you want to spare?"

"I'd like to keep the ones I've got for now," I said, moving away.

Snape shook his head, smirking. "It's meant to change form, Armilla," he said, pulling on my arm so I had to move closer to the owl again.

"It looks like it's having mood swings," I said. The owl was now pale pink and had shrunk down to the size of a baby owl.

"Well, I don't like that one," Snape muttered. The owl suddenly went emerald green and grew at an alarming rate to a fully sized owl again. It held out a leg with extremely sharp claws, as if wanting to show them off. "Oh, a little better," he sneered.

"It is an owl, isn't it?" I said, backing away as far as I could from the claws. I didn't get very far; Snape caught my arm before I had put a fair distance between myself and the cage.

"Yes, it's an owl," he said, looking amused at my reaction to the bird. "But, as you were so quick to figure out that it is not an alarm clock, I'm confident you would have noticed that it's not a common post owl."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't look very common," I said, trying to pull myself further away as the owl grew even bigger and turned a nasty shade of orange, its sharp claws growing so long they curled.

To my frustration, Snape didn't let go. "She won't take on such...unsightly forms if you don't wish her to after you've taken ownership of her."

"It's a she?" I exclaimed, as the now midnight blue owl produced some droppings.

"Indeed. I thought you would rather a female pet to a male," Snape said, smirking. "The males were actually a little more aggressive, which was surprising."

"And...she...won't attack me if I take ownership of her?" I asked, relenting on my struggle to get to the other side of the bed.

"That's correct. Though if you let her attack me I shall change my mind about letting you keep her inside."

The owl went a snowy white again and shrunk down slightly. Liking these features more, I moved forward to have a closer look, and Snape finally let go.

"That's better," I said.

"You've got to be kidding," said Snape, incredulously. "She was much more fearsome when she was black."

"But I don't want her to look fearsome," I said. "I like snowy owls. She reminds me of-"

"Potter's owl?" Snape scowled.

"No," I said. "Matilda's owl."

Snape looked at me shrewdly. "Oh."

The owl turned a violent shade of purple and I changed my mind about being so close.

"It's called a Metamorphmagus Owl," Snape said.

"Metamorphmagus?" I repeated. That word sounded familiar. I had met someone back in the holidays who was one. She had had bubblegum pink hair at the time.

"Like Tonks?" I asked.

Snape rolled his eyes at the mention of the name. "Like Tonks," he asserted, "though perhaps not as clumsy."

"I didn't know animals could have that quality too."

"Generally they don't," he said. "Owls like this one are extremely hard to come by. Most witches and wizards have never even heard of them, which gives you an advantage."

I looked at him questioningly.

"Once you have claimed ownership of this owl," Snape went on, "she will remain loyal to you. She cannot be bewitched. Her flights cannot be intercepted, and she will attack if someone tries to take mail that isn't intended for them, unless you have given them permission to."

"Oh," I said, impressed, leaning forward again to look at the now magenta baby owl.

"Disgusting," Snape sneered at the bird, who promptly produced some droppings again.

"You can have the bird change form at your will, so that other people will think that you are always using a different owl when you send them mail," he continued. "Or you can have the owl assume a different form for each person you are in correspondence with. For example, if you decide to have this colour for Matilda," he gestured to the lime green owl, "the owl will arrive back to you in that colour and you will know straightaway who it is from. However, I would suggest that you choose a more natural colour. People will get suspicious."

"That's clever," I said, even more impressed with the bird now.

"It's very useful," said Snape. "You will always know when Father is sending you something. Also, while you are at Father's house, the owl could be delivering you letters in different forms, and Father will not think you are consistently getting mail from the same person."

I smiled at my brother. He was such a Slytherin. He had really thought a lot about this.

"Of course,' he went on. "I will correspond with you that way, only writing trivial things so Father thinks I'm in contact with you. And you'll only write trivial things back. The chocolate frog card is a better means of communication while you're there."

Well that certainly put a downer on my mood. I was going to my father's house tomorrow.

"Don't think on it now, Armilla," said Snape, shaking his head. "You'll only make yourself depressed for the rest of the day. I may allow you to be depressed tonight."

I nodded.

"Easier said than done, I know," he said, frowning.

"So how do I take up ownership?" I asked, turning my gaze back to the owl.

"You point your wand at her and give her a name," he replied. "Think carefully though, once you've named her you can't change it. She won't answer to anything else."

"I don't know what to call an owl..." I started thinking of names that might suit. Henrietta? No. Gladys? No.

"Morag," I said suddenly.

Snape gave me an odd look. "Why Morag?"

"It's the first name my mind didn't reject."

He smirked. "Then please don't tell me the names you rejected first."

I glared at him. "I can name her anything though," I said. "Would you prefer me to call her Fluffy?"

He stared at me. "Morag it is then," he said.

I reached over and picked up my wand from my bedside table. Pointing it directly at the bird, which now resembled something between a pigeon and a tawny owl, I said "Morag."

Immediately, the owl shrunk slightly and turned back to the snowy colour that I had admired before. She hooted at me once, flapping her wings slightly. She wasn't the size of a baby owl, but she wasn't huge by any means.

"I thought she might go back to that colour," I commented, getting off the bed and crouching down on the floor so I was level with Morag. "But why did she shrink? I didn't order that."

Snape looked down at me from his position on the bed. "Ah, well," he said, "this is just conjecture so don't accuse me of mocking you, but the owl has taken on an appearance of your liking...it is every possibility that she has taken on a size...to resemble your own."

"Then the owl is mocking me," I muttered, glaring at Morag.

"How unfortunate," said Snape, sneering, "your situation in life becomes truly critical when magical creatures start making fun of you."

Ignoring the jibe, I opened the cage. Morag promptly hopped onto my outstretched hand, hooting softly. She looked up at me, her black eyes shining. I smiled down at her, thinking she was simply beautiful.

"Well this is certainly a change in confidence," said Snape mockingly. "A few minutes ago you wanted to be as far as you could get from that owl."

"That's when she was big and dark and had sharp claws," I muttered, stroking the bird's feathers.

Snape shook his head, as if teenage girls were an oddity he would never understand.

Morag suddenly flew from my arm and soared around the room. We watched as she circled it a few times before settling on top of my armoire, hooting quite loudly.

"How could you have thought from that sound that you had received an alarm clock?" asked Snape, eyeing the owl with obvious uncertainty. I could tell he wasn't entirely sure about letting me keep the owl inside.

Suddenly embarrassed, I shifted from my crouching position on the floor so that I was now sitting cross-legged next to the cage. "Oh, I thought Terry was playing a joke," I said, trying to wave it off. We continued to watch Morag, who was now hopping about on the armoire. "But this is much better...thankyou," I said, really meaning it.

"That's fine," said Snape quietly, looking back at me. "As long as you look after her yourself; she is your responsibility."

I nodded. He certainly had put a lot of thought into the gift. And it certainly beat money or stationary.

"Well, open everything else, then," said Snape. He sneered. "You never know, Mr. Boot might have gotten you something more ridiculous than a hooting alarm clock."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Christmas morning seemed to fly by so quickly. After opening the rest of my presents - a box of strawberry filled chocolate from Matilda, a little box covered in moonstones that showed a picture of the weather outside when opened from Lisa (which Snape believed she got because there were no windows in his quarters), and a mooing alarm clock from Terry (which Snape said he would hex if he ever heard it in one of our homes) - I spent the rest of the morning training Morag to take on different appearances for different people I would send letters to. She happily turned into the colours I requested, unless she felt a certain colour suited that person. Taking Snape's advice, I made sure that the colours were natural, normal owl colours so people wouldn't be suspicious.

Morag seemed to insist on remaining the snowy white colour for corresponding with Snape and I wondered if she recognised him as my closest ally. I felt a momentary pang in my heart when I realised I could not set up a colour for Merle, but I pushed it aside. She had died and I had to deal with that.

Snape meanwhile, spent an hour before lunch with Dumbledore to discuss some sort of Order business. I knew that Mr. Weasley had been attacked at the Ministry recently and Dumbledore seemed to be a lot busier than usual.

When Snape returned, we walked up to the feast in the Great Hall together. The few Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students tensed slightly upon Snape's entrance, but he paid them no notice whatsoever. The Slytherins seemed intent on watching me, clearly wanting to observe all my interactions with my brother. They didn't take their eyes off me as Snape and I sat down next to each other at the table.

"Ah, Happy Christmas, Armilla!" said Dumbledore, his blue eyes sparkling, as he sat down near us at the head of the table.

"Happy Christmas, sir," I replied, returning his smile.

"I hear you received a truly remarkable owl," he said. "I myself received an extraordinary pair of canary yellow bed socks."

I smiled. The Headmaster seemed so eccentric at times.

To Snape's obvious annoyance, Professor Trelawney took the seat on the other side of him.

"Ah, Severus," she said, her eyes seeming enormous through her glasses. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Snape didn't answer. He must have inwardly pitied himself on having chosen that seat. I was glad at the very least that we were sitting at this end of the table because Umbridge was seated at the other end.

"Yes," Trelawney went on, "The Inner Eye has foreseen that trouble awaits you in the form of a bird. It will cause you much anxiety."

"I'll stay away from the turkey then," said Snape, looking pointedly at the steaming turkey sitting on a dish in front of McGonagall.

McGonagall turned her laugh into a cough, and Trelawney looked quite put out. Snape simply smirked, revelling in his success at shutting her up.

What a ridiculous prediction. She had only said it because Dumbledore had just mentioned my owl.

Lunch went by quite smoothly, since Trelawney decided to talk to the sixth year Hufflepuff on the other side of her and ignore Snape completely. I noticed that Snape changed his mind and ate turkey anyway, earning himself a glare from the woman.

The Slytherins continued to watch me out of the corners of their eyes. Every time Snape spoke to me or I spoke to him, a couple of them even looked up, clearly interested in our relationship. One sixth year Slytherin stared at me so much that when he noticed that Snape was giving him a particularly nasty glare, he dropped his fork on the floor. Really, Slytherins were generally more subtle with their spying.

Snape still hadn't mentioned what I was supposed to be giving him for Christmas, and when I voiced this concern on the way back to the dungeons after the feast, he simply waved it aside again.

"You will find out soon enough," he said. "I may not receive it from you today. If not, I hope that I'll receive it in due course."

These words puzzled me beyond anything else - and worried me. What did he want from me that I might not be able to give? I wished he would just tell me. Slytherin.

Once back in the sitting room, Snape picked up his travelling cloak, scarf and gloves.

"Go and get all your things," he said. "Get Morag as well."

I didn't bother to ask where we were going. I didn't think he'd tell me. I complied with his order and returned a few moments later ready to go out into the snow, and struggling with a bad and cage.

Snape shrunk the bag and took the cage from me. We left the dungeons and made our way out into the castle grounds. It wasn't until we had walked outside the school gates that I asked where we were going.

"Home," Snape replied. "We're staying there tonight."

That was a nice surprise. As much as I liked Hogwarts, I liked the Merrigan Estate even more.

"Come," said Snape, holding a hand out. "We're Apparating there."

I took hold of his hand.

"Hold on tightly," he said. "I have to hold onto you and your owl."

o o o o o o o o o o o

Docky was simply overjoyed to see us. He had little jingle bells tied to his ears and so we could hear him moving around the house. I privately gave Snape credit for not hexing the bells right of the elf's ears, but I knew he was sorely tempted to as soon as he saw them.

While Snape went to his study, I went upstairs to my bedroom. It was exactly as I had left it of course, but seeing it made me really happy for some reason. As long as I didn't look in the direction of the piano too much (that was the most painful corner of the room), the room brought me happiness.

Docky came in after an hour, wanting to chat about "Miss Hazel" and tell stories about her childhood. I was happy to sit and listen to him, and I made every effort to ignore the irritating jingling noise I heard every time the elf moved.

At around five o'clock, Snape came in, having completed whatever he had needed to do in his study.

"Off you go, Docky," he said, sneering at the jingling noise.

"Yes, Master Severus!" squeaked Docky, and he hopped on one foot all the way out of the room.

"Damn hyperactive elf," Snape muttered, glaring after the elf.

"When am I going to find out what I am supposed to be giving you?" I asked.

"Right now," he replied. "Come."

I was surprised when Snape led the way into the little room off my bedroom that held my mother's old books. I watched as Snape started rifling through a sheaf of very thin old books on one of the shelves.

"I thought you didn't know what books are kept in here," I said, looking around the room. I still hadn't explored the room yet. I had decided to leave that for the summer holidays.

"I don't," Snape murmured, "I'm just guessing that what I want is in here somewhere."

"Why didn't you just tell me that you wanted one of Mother's books?" I asked, thinking it odd that Snape seemed so intent on finding a certain book for himself.

Snape stopped rifling long enough to cast me a glare. "I don't want one of her books," he scoffed. "It's what I want you to do with one of them."

Well, that was interesting. Maybe the book held some charm he wanted me to perform or something...no, that didn't seem right...it seemed odd.

"Ah, here it is," he said finally, pulling a thin spiral bound book with a blue velvet cover from the shelf. "This is the last of many, I believe," he said, looking at the cover. "Father destroyed the others."

At my bewildered look, Snape held the book out to me, his expression unfathomable.

Taking it, I looked down at the cover. The blue velvet had small rips in places and the book didn't appear to have a title. I opened it and saw a contents list on the page. There was a list of both wizard and muggle composers along with the names of pieces of their classical music.

I started turning the pages slowly and my heart flipped as I saw page after page of music manuscripts. This was my mother's last remaining music book. My heart sped up even more when I saw pieces of music I recognised by sight without even viewing the title because I had played them so much. A flood of memories, both happy and miserable was washing over me and threatening to overwhelm me. Shar's face came back into my mind as I turned every page with a shaking hand.

Having felt Snape's eyes on me for awhile, I finally looked up, thinking that I could no longer avoid his gaze.

"If it is asking too much of you, you may say so," he said, watching me closely. "However I have the hope that you will sit down at that piano one day and actually play." He walked back into my bedroom.

After a moment I followed, still holding the book with trembling hands.

"And when you do," Snape said, "I shall have my Christmas present." His face held a truly enigmatic expression, and I couldn't fathom why my playing meant so much to him.

"I...didn't think you liked music," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "How...how is that a proper Christmas present?"

Snape looked down at me, considering the question for a moment. "I generally do not take much pleasure in music," he admitted. "But it is a proper Christmas present because I believe the key to you moving on with your life revolves around playing that piano."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, looking over at the piano in the corner.

"The longer you avoid that piano, the longer bad memories will haunt you," Snape continued. "You've let bad memories of Shar overwhelm you and stop you doing something you enjoy. You will not be rid of them until you conquer them."

I swallowed again, knowing that he was right and not wanting to admit it.

"And you shall conquer them," Snape said softly, not taking his black eyes off mine.

"I still don't see how playing it is a present for you," I said, wanting to avoid going anywhere near the piano.

Snape was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was in a measured, quiet tone.

"It is a present for me because I will know that you will have closure on a painful issue that has been plaguing you for some time...and in that closure I will find a sense of contentment because you will have found peace at last."

I looked back at the piano, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

"You don't have to play today," Snape whispered. "Just try sitting there."

Nodding slightly, I slowly approached the piano and gingerly sat down. Snape came to stand closer by, as I lifted the lid to look at the keys.

"Well that's the first step," he said. "How long has it been since you last sat at a piano?"

"Too long," I murmured, reaching out to touch a key. As I did, Shar's face suddenly dominated my thoughts and I withdrew my hand quickly.

"It may take time," said Snape, folding his arms.

I shook my head. "No," I said. I could feel anger boiling inside me. Shar didn't have the right to stop me playing. Thinking that he did and letting his face overwhelm me made me angrier. "No," I repeated. "I want to do this now."

Snape was silent.

I reached out to touch a key again, and the same image as before overtook my mind. But I touched the key anyway in defiance. The sound of middle C didn't make the image vanish, but it did flicker slightly. I was going to do this. I was going to be rid of that maniac once and for all.

"If you're going to do this now, pick something," said Snape quietly, leaning against the back of an armchair.

I opened the book again and looked over songs that were familiar to me. One of them caught my eye straight away. Bach's Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring. It was a song by a muggle composer and I had never played it for Shar because it was my favourite. I had only ever played it for myself. And I hadn't played it in so long...

I displayed the book on the piano so I could read it as I played, even though I was pretty sure I still knew it by heart. Reaching out to touch the keys again, my heart started pounding as both Merle and Shar appeared in my mind. I hadn't even played two bars before I fumbled.

"You know that you don't have to do this now," Snape reminded me, frowning slightly.

"No, I do," I insisted angrily. If I could conquer this obstacle, I would have the confidence to face others. And since I was going to my Father's house tomorrow, that thought meant a lot to me.

"Very well," he said. He became silent again.

I was going to do this.

And I did.

I played the song the whole way through, finding more and more pleasure from it as the song progressed. Shar wasn't far from my mind the entire time, but my determination to get through the song seemed to push his face into the background. I had forgotten how much inward joy I got from playing the song and when the song ended, I just sat there, staring at the keys. I could barely believe that I had done it, and I was still shivering with nerves from the prospect of sitting at the piano in the first place.

Finally, resurfacing from my thoughts, I looked up at Snape, who was still leaning against the armchair with his arms folded.

He looked paler than usual, and his black eyes glittered strangely. He didn't look angry, but something had clearly disturbed him.

"Was it that bad?" I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious since I hadn't played in so long.

Snape didn't answer at first. He seemed lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he looked up.

"No, there was nothing wrong with it," he said, coming out of his reverie. "It was very well done."

I continued to look at him, troubled by his expression. Something wasn't right.

A split second later, Snape had resumed his usual unreadable expression.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"I...don't know," I said honestly. "A bit strange."

Snape nodded, and I knew that he understood.

"I'm glad you went through with it," he said, straightening up and moving towards the door.

An invisible string tugged on my heart as he opened the door.

"Wasn't it worth it?" I asked. Maybe it hadn't given him the contentment he had wanted after all. That wasn't much of a Christmas present.

Snape turned around to look at me, his hand on the door handle. His face was still inscrutable.

"Oh, no," he said. "It was worth it...Excuse me."

And with that, he left.

o o o o o o o o o o o

I felt more nervous than ever before. Something about my playing had really hit a nerve with Snape and it bothered me that he had seemed so disconcerted.

I had gotten up from the piano after Snape had left the room, my confidence fading with my anxiety. I sat down in the armchair Snape had been leaning against, completely lost in thought and racking my brain with answers for Snape's reaction. Mother had mentioned playing to Snape when he was very little, but I didn't think Snape would even remember that. He had seemed to have lost interest anyway, according to her.

It wasn't until Docky came in to announce that dinner was served that I received a clue.

Upon seeing the lid of the piano still lifted, Docky bounded over to the piano, exclaiming his joy that it was being played again. He had started raving on about my mother's playing when his eyes fell upon the music book, which was now closed.

"That is the last music book Miss Hazel had," he said, staring up at the book. "Docky has not seen it in many years. Miss Hazel's husband destroyed the others in a temper, but he never found this one."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because Master Severus hid it when he was three."

Suddenly, a memory I had forgotten I even had came rushing to the front of my mind. There were blasts of light coming from my father's wand as my mother yelled with tears of anger. In the background, a very small child, my brother, was on the floor, crying. Behind him was the very same piano I had just been playing.

I couldn't believe I had pushed that memory away. It was only a glimpse I had of it anyway and it was only now that I remembered that there even was a piano in the background. I hadn't thought it significant the first time I had viewed that memory of Snape's in one of our Occlumency lessons. Snape had been quick to stop me viewing the memory and I had pushed it into the back of my mind as we had moved on the something else.

"Docky," I said quietly. "Did Severus ever listen to his mother play the piano?"

Docky beamed. "Oh, yes, Miss Armilla, but he stopped listening after he hid that book."

"When he was three?" I asked.

Docky nodded, his ears drooping.

"Did he...enjoy it up until then?" I asked, feeling the lump rise in my throat again.

"Yes, Miss Armilla," he answered. "But he was only ever wanting to hear his mother play one song, or he would refuse to listen."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What song was that, Docky?" I knew I didn't really need to ask. I was certain I already knew the answer.

The elf gave a small smile as he answered.

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring."