Birthday of a King

The gentle tunes of Christmas carols echoed across the snowy lawns of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle itself stood as a shining rock in the sea of white, the many lit windows casting yellow light across the grounds, promising warmth and festivities within. The great doors of the castle were decked with holly and evergreen boughs in honor of Christmastide.

A bookish-looking young woman stood next to a dark-haired older man in front of the choir of young children. The older man was scowling rather fiercely at the brunette, but, after so many years of practice, she could ignore him. It was his choice to be here, anyway. She had merely requested that he attend at least one choir practice before they performed in front of the entire school on Christmas Eve. She dropped her hand, a signal for the choir to begin their opening song.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,
Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day;
To save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy;
O tidings of comfort and joy.

The brunette smiled warmly at the choir and led them through all of their songs: God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, O Little Town of Bethlehem, and Joy to the World, as well as perennial wizard songs. The raven-haired man watched the students menacingly, but was actually shocked by their skill. His wife had only been directing them for a few months and they could already sing this well!

Once the songs were finished and the choir was in danger of singing itself hoarse, their teacher quietly dismissed them, urging them to finish their homework. Far be it from her to excuse missing homework on the account of choir practice! Yet, she knew that the school needed cheering and this seemed to be a logical - if Muggle - way to do it. Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord more than a year ago, but the people of Hogwarts were still reeling from the tragic loss of both life and innocence in one fell swoop.

So the new Transfiguration professor - since Albus Dumbledore had died, Minerva McGonagall was forced to take up the responsibilities of both Head Mistress and leader of the Order of the Phoenix - decided to start a school choir, uniting all houses and cheering the whole castle. At least, that had been the plan.

At the moment, though, the mismatched rabble of younger students - the few who had never seen battle - was too scared to go caroling around the school. It had taken the combined forces of a coaxing Transfiguration professor and her threatening husband to convince them to sing in front of the school before the Christmas Feast. As it was, the Hufflepuff first and second years were still cowering behind their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw counterparts. The Slytherins - all three of them - refused to stand anywhere near the other Houses. This annoyed their director to no end, but they were students and that was their job.

As the brunette and the dark-haired man meandered their way out of the Great Hall and into the garden, the woman began to hum the tune to "I Wish You a Merry Christmas."

"Will you stop that infernal humming?" the man snapped.

The woman glared at her husband with mock-hurt. "But it's Christmastide, dear. Everyone is supposed to be happy." Then she grinned, almost impishly. "God bless us, everyone!"

The man locked eyes with his wife. "Bah! humbug."

They both burst out laughing. If one of the students cared to look out his or her dormitory window, he or she would be shocked. The two strictest and grouchiest professors were standing in the snow, laughing like the world was about to end.

Regaining his dignity, the man took his wife's hand. "I thought you didn't like Christmas."

She did not look at her husband, but up at the lead-gray sky. "I don't, not really," she admitted. "But its more important that people remember that there can be good times - that the war wasn't the end all and be all of the world."

"You miss him, don't you?"

This time she stared her husband in the eye. "Of course I miss him. Why do you think I refused to put up the holiday decorations? I remember putting them up with Ron and Harry when we stayed here over the holidays. He would always laugh at me for doing it the Muggle way, until." her voice trailed off, choked with emotion.

The man took her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder for a while. "He would have wanted you to be happy, Hermione. I can't imagine that he would be pleased to see you bawling your eyes out three days before Christmas, even if it is the anniversary of his death."

"If I didn't know better, I would think that you were trying to comfort me."

"And why wouldn't I comfort you?"

She smiled through her tears. "Bah, humbug."

Severus Snape smiled kindly at his wife. "Do you want to put those flowers on his grave tonight?"

Hermione nodded, tears still silently streaming down her cheeks. The two walked down to the edge of the garden where so many defenders of the light lay buried. She knelt before one of the graves, placed a basket of holly in front of it, and cleared the snow away from the headstone which read:

Ronald Bilius Weasley
Defender of the Light, Loyal Friend, Cherished Son, Caring Brother
February 1981 - December 2006
Gone But Never Forgotten

Hermione turned and buried her face into Severus' shoulder for the second time that night. This time she tried to talk, but her sobs and Severus' wool jumper muffled the words. Severus did not care - he knew what she was trying to say anyway. He just held her in his arms and began to sing softly to her "Birthday of a King," knowing that he could do very little to ease the loss of her best friend and all that he had meant to her.