A Very Black Christmas

It was the morning after Christmas. All evidence pointed to that the weather was going to be quite a bit gloomier than the previous day; already clouds hung heavily on the sky, looking grey and huge. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry lay calm and most of its inhabitants were still deep in slumber.

In one of the Gryffindor dormitories, for example, young Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had fallen asleep head-to-feet late last night on the latter's bed and they were now peacefully resting with eyes closed but mouths very much open.

In another Gryffindor dormitory, however, lay a girl on her bed, asleep, but very uneasy, clenching a handkerchief in one hand and a photo of a black-haired boy in the other. She had been up until a few hours ago, crying over a pain many can relate to: the pain of being abandoned, of not being believed, of being called terrible names by a person you care for.

In a king-sized bed with silk sheets in a room behind the Headmaster's Office, Albus Dumbledore sat reading a rather old-looking book. He didn't sleep much, three or four hours at the most, and that's considered a good night.

The house-elves in the kitchen had been awake for some time now. They were preparing breakfast, hastily, but flawlessly. Soon the students and teachers in the castle would rise from their beds and come to the Great Hall with expectations of a nice, warm breakfast awaiting them, and the elves knew of nothing else than to make it for them.

But yet silence lay over the castle. In a dormitory in one of the dungeons, someone had begun to move in one of the beds. The sheets and covers tangled in his legs as he wriggled a bit, trying to wake up his body and locate all of its parts. This body belonged to none other than a certain Severus Snape, but at that moment, he wished it didn't. His head was hurting, as well as the rest of his body. He tried to recall what he'd been up to the night before, but the throbbing in his head made it hard to think clear. He sat up in the bed, blinked and looked around. In the room stood six beds, their inhabitants still and silent, a cracked mirror hanged on one wall and a painting of a twenty-something Salazar Slytherin on another, and the large windows were hung with emerald-green curtains. The boy sighed to himself and closed his eyes.

Yesterday had been a nightmare. Many hurtful memories had surfaced and many harsh words had been exchanged. He thought about Lily - beautiful, kind Lily - and felt a hard sting of shame in his gut. The things he'd said to her... she could never forgive him for it. And why should she, he thought, since I keep hurting her time after time. Maybe it was better this way, at least she wouldn't have to worry that he'd call her a mudblood in front of other people again. Gosh, how could he do that? What was he thinking? He really did need to work on his temper. Or rather, his self-esteem. He was such an easy target for bullies, since he always took everything personally.

He thought about Sirius Black. He could still hear his mocking laughter ringing in his ears and the fear in his voice once the body-bind cruse had worn of. Severus was a sick bastard, wasn't he? He was a maniac, no doubt about it and Lily was way better of without him. Who knows, one day he might've even hurt her. Maybe they should both be thankful Black was such a prick. He couldn't blame Regulus for hating his brother, though. He really was an awful person, walking around treating other people like that. It was lack of respect and Severus' thought that a day in his shoes would've been a good lesson for him. Poor Reg, it's no wonder he's confused about everything. You could say it's not really his fault he turned out the way he -

What was that?

That, there.

An image flashed through Severus' mind. It woke an unpleasant feeling in his chest. He tried to locate the image, tried to remember where it came from.

He recalled the previous day, running down the stairs to the dungeons, rushing into the common room to find Regulus waiting for him, wanting to talk and ask for forgiveness. Saying no matter what ideological differences they might have, he wanted to have Severus as a friend. He recalled a brief hug, then a moment's silence, and then the words. It came to him like a punch in the stomach. Those dreadful words, how he wanted to sink into the ground when he remembered his own voice saying them.

"Regulus, how did you get the Dark Mark?"

The look on Regulus' face when he replied: "Why do you ask?"

And Severus' hoarse, broken voice as he said: "I want one."

Tears streamed down his face now; he felt so terribly shameful and guilty. He covered his face with his hands and let out a loud cry. He could feel it now - the pain in his body seemed to have its centre on his left forearm. He could feel the mark mocking him, but he couldn't bear to look at it. The loud sobs which he let out bounced of the cold stone walls and were enhanced into sounding more like a sort of angry laughter.

How could he have been so blinded by his own fury? What had he gotten himself into? He new there was no way to get out of this alive and the thought of death felt frightening and distant, which was quite ironic since his new title was "Severus Snape: Death Eater". The words made him shiver.

Minutes passed by, in slow-motion but faster than ever, and Severus didn't move. He hoped that if he hid long enough, perhaps he could disappear. He wanted it all to be a bad dream, a really, really bad dream, but he didn't wake up, no matter how much his arm hurt and his head throbbed. Once he finally removed his hands from his face, the last tears had fallen from his red eyes. They felt sore and swollen, but completely emptied of tears. He got up, got dressed and left the dormitory, looking like he'd been awake for several days and night.

As if in a trance, he walked all the way to the gargoyle which hid the entrance to Dumbledore's office, told the password and let the moving staircase lead him up. The door to the empty office was unlocked, so he entered it, went straight through it and knocked on a door at the far end of the room.

"Enter," said a voice from inside the room and Severus obeyed. Dumbledore looked at him from where he sat in his bed. They looked at each other for a long while and there seemed to be something between them, a silent understanding or a bond of very special nature.

"I need your help," Severus said in the faintest voice. "I've done something... something terribly wrong."

Dumbledore got up from his bed, grabbed a blanket and walked up to him. Wrapping the blanket around Severus' weak shoulders, he said: "Come, sit down." His voice was calm and reassuring and Severus wanted to drown himself in it. Dumbledore poured some tea from a pot next to his bed and gave it to Severus, who took it with both hands and stared at it. They sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me what's bothering you," said Dumbledore fatherly. Severus felt a tear fall from his eye, apparently he had mistaken in thinking there was none left, and soon after came another, and another. He told Dumbledore everything, about Lily and the things they said to each other, about Sirius and how he'd threatened to kill him, about Regulus and how he was the one who helped him become a Death Eater. Dumbledore never once lifted his hand from his shoulder, not once did he take his eyes of him.

"Do not despair, Severus," he said. "I believe we, if we use both of our brilliant brains, can come up with a solution."

"But, Professor," Severus sobbed, "I- it's too late for that, isn't it? I've pledged my allegiance to the Dark Lord, there's no way out of that. This is going to be the end of me."

"Not the end. On the contrary, if you are agreeable, this could be the beginning of something bigger. But you have to swear to trust me, under any circumstances, and never disobey an order I give you."

Severus wasn't quite sure what he meant, but his trust for the man sitting next to him was so strong, he didn't doubt for a moment that he knew best. And on the other hand, after what he had done, he would be willing to slave for Dumbledore, if it meant making up for his sins.

"Yes, Professor."

"Severus, do you know what an Unbreakable Vow is?"

Severus nodded and swallowed, but oddly enough he didn't feel afraid anymore. Instead, he started to feel the warm feeling of reassurance that things would perhaps get better. After all, as long as he had Dumbledore on his side, nothing else really mattered.