Happy Christmas, Severus Snape

The Miracle of Dream

*^*

Severus Snape was in hurry.

He was preparing at least ten different potions at time. He definitely didn't have time to do anything else.

And now Sirius Black was there, asking for Wolfsbane. Just because the full moon would be at Christmas. Lite that would make it any different than any other full moon.

"I'm *so* sorry for your little boyfriend, Black," he spat out, "but, unofortunately, I'm in hurry now."

Then he closed the door before the man.

He sighed deep. He knew better than well that Lupin wasn't Black's boyfriend. That didn't stop him throwing it on Black's face every now and then. He didn't really have the patience to keep himself back when he saw that self-satisfied face.

He looked at all his potions. They all had to boil now, nothing else. It would be at least an hour before any of them required any further changes. An hour wasn't anything. Even if he had been willing to brew Wolfsbane, he really was too hurry at the moment.

He could as well do some of his paper work, but he was far too tired for that. He casted a waking-up spell, sat down in his chair and sank into sleep.

*****

Suddenly, he was in some other place. Dim candle light everywhere, and noises. Singing, steps, screaams everywhere.

He swallowed hard. He recognized this place. Those walls, that ceiling, that furniture... Even the big Christmas-tree in the corner was familiar.

His home. His childhood home.

Suddenly two children ran from the nearby door. He couldn't step aside soon enough to avoid them, but he noticed that he didn't need to. They ran right through him, like he hadn't been there at all.

He stared at them. Two children, around eight years both. Long, black hair, equally black eyes and pale skin. A boy and a girl, both in Christmas-green clothes.

"Give it back, Sev!" the girl screamed. "I need it! I have to wrap my presents for Mom and Dad!"

"Use your own!" the boy shouted back. "I need it as well! You're only too lazy to find your own!" He shook a little roll of Wizarding Tape in his hand while running.

He smiled a little bit. Yes, he had liked Christmas once. When he had been young. He nearly missed those Christmas', with all his family around.

The lights dimmed. Everything changed a bit. The furniture looked older, and the Christmas-tree was slightly different. Also those two children who came back from the door were older now, around fifteen or so.

He looked at his fifteen-year self. He was wearing all black, his hair was a greasy mess, his face even paler than before. And his sister, Sharia... She was still in green clothes, but she was thin, thin and sickly. She was walking very slowly, her steps uncertain.

Severus closed his eyes and shivered. Sharia's last Christmas. Last Christmas before she had died. After that, they had never celebrated Christmas - Sharia had loved it, and it reminded them too much of her.

//I don't want to see this,// he thought. //I want to wake up.//

And so he did.

*****

Suddenly he was back in his chair in the dungeons. He shok his head. Damned Black for reminding him of Sharia. Another reason not to help Lupin.

He tried to get back to sleep. He was really tired...

*****

He was in another room. Not his own home, not this time. This was wholly different place, different people. He recognized them all, though.

Potter and Granger were sitting in two armchairs, quietly talking with each other. The youngest Weasley boy was sitting on the floor, reading something. Unbelievable. He hadn't thought the boy was even able to read. And on the couch...

He blinked. It was Lupin, yes, but in completely different condition that he had ever seen him in. He was pale and thin, and looked very tired. It wasn't only his usual weakness around the full moon, that much was clear. Remus Lupin was ill, seriously ill.

He wouldn't probably survive the transformation.

The door flew open. Black marched in, his face furious. Everybody looked at him, but nobody dared to speak.

At last, it was Lupin to break the silence. "He didn't give you any Wolfsbane." It wasn't a question, it was a calm statement.

"He didn't," Black spat out. "He said he's too much in hurry under Christmas. And that if you have survived so long without it, you should be able to survive in future."

"He's a bastard," Potter said. "You weren't even asking for regular doses. Only this one time, so he could have a real Christmas at least."

"Don't worry, Harry," Lupin said tiredly. "I'll be fine. Believe me."

"No, you won't," Black said. "You're weak, Remus. You shouldn't be locked out in the cellar, tearing yourself in pieces, when everybody other is having merry Christmas."

"You'll be with me," Lupin replied calmly. "You know that it always prevents me seriously hurting myself."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Black murmured. "You're so weak, Remus. Are you sure that even my presence can help you win the wolf?"

"I hope so," Lupin said, reaching his hand out to squeeze Black's. "I have to hope so, Sirius. There's nothing else left but hope." Then he faked a happy face. "But let's celebrate Christmas at least as long as we can, right? It'll still be some hours until the moon rises."

They all tried to smile. None of their smiles were genuine.

*****

Severus woke up. He trembled. This hadn't been an usual dream, that much he was sure about. His damned talent of seeing - or curse, call it whatever you want - this had been a real dream. Lupin was really ill.

He was dying, for Merlin's sake.

He didn't know what to do or think. Maybe he should help the werewolf?

But then again, he had himself said he'd be fine. If they were too proud to ask for real help, why should he help them? It wasn't like he'd go begging them to get to help Lupin.

And so he fell asleep again.

*****

Same room as before, but now much more gloomy. There was a Christmas-tree in the corner, but no one seemed to be bothered to at least decorate it.

"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Black. He was sitting in a large chair, his face a blank mask.

"In Snape's funeral," Granger answered. She was standing in the corner, leaning against the wall and fiddling with her hair. "He and all the teachers. I think that most of them are there only for their responsibility. Or maybe they're still scared of him."

"Like anyone would miss that bastard." It was Potter. He stood next to Black, wearing all black. It was weird to see the Gryffindor Golden Boy in black. He looked like a ghost, his face pale between the dark clothes and that messy hair.

"Remus would be sorry for him," Black said with an oddly soft tone. "He liked Snape, in some very odd way. And even when he made his life a living hell - he always forgave."

"It was Remus's character," Granger said very quietly. "He was always able to forgive." Severus could have sworn he saw tears in the girl's eyes. "Even those who never forgave him for something he didn't even do in the first place."

Black nodded, slowly. Then he locked his gaze on the fire in the fireplace. His expression was still perfectly blank, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking on the moment.

Then, suddenly, he spoke. "Do you know what Remus always said?" he asked. "He said the if he ever had to die to his curse, he'd want it to happen at Christmas." Tears bursted out from his eyes, when he continued, "Remus loved Christmas with all his heart. He was born at Christmas, and he wanted to die at it as well."

"And so he did," Potter said gloomily. "If that bastard had given the Wolfsbane, he'd maybe be alive."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Black said. "If I hadn't been so damned proud, I could have asked something for his illness as well."

"Like he'dever given anything."

Then Black broke out completely, crying and sobbing like there was no tomorrow.

The youngs looked at each other. Then Granger placed her hand on Black's shoulder, tears rolling on her own cheeks as well.

"I think he's happier now," she whispered. "D'you know what I heard once? I heard that the Heaven is like an endless Christmas. And Remus really belonged to the Heaven."

"And Snape belonged to the Hell," Potter grumbled. "Where he's now going to, fortunately to us all. May he rest in suffer!"

"Harry!" Granger exclaimed, shocked. "You can't say that!"

"Why not?" the boy asked nosily. "He was a bastard and doesn't deserve anything else but Hell. He caused Remus's death, for Merlin's sake! If he only had given the Wolfsbane..."

"I said this once, Harry, and I don't like repeating myself," Black said gloomily. "It was all my fault. My damned pride that Remus isn't alive." Then he snorted and added, "although I have to admit that Snape was the greatest bastard of all times."

*****

And he was awake again.

He trembled when he got up from his chair. So that was how he'd be remembered? He knew that it wasn't only a dream - it would be reality, if he didn't do anything.

He made his decidion. He wouldn't be remembered as a heartless bastard - he wouldn't let Lupin die. For Sharia, if for nothing else. He wouldn't let Lupin die like Sharia had died.

He started gathering ingredients and tools for two potions. He still had plenty of time before the moon would rise. Fuck all the other potions - Lupin wouldn't die, if he could help it.

*****