A Reflection of Himself

The picturesque wintry scene of the Scottish mountains enveloping the impressive castle could have been a painting, it was that breathtaking, but had it been a mere picture, there would not have been any inhabitants within the castle. As the snow fell gracefully that Christmas morning outside, covering the mountain peaks and castle spires alike, fires burned within Hogwarts castle, providing the few remaining people who stayed over the holiday with warmth.

In spite of any amount of horror brought forth by the evils of the world, whether Muggle or wizard, Christmastime always brought a kind of magic that no wizard or witch could produce with the simple flick or swish of a wand. As per usual, Dumbledore had ordered the castle decorated to a flourish, and many of the students had headed home to spend Christmas with their families.

From within his office, Lupin glanced around at the stark emptiness. He had packed what he needed and was looking forward to returning to his home for the week between Christmas and New Years. Before he headed home, though, he would be making a very special stop - at Tonks's place - and would be spending what promised to be a lovely Christmas Day with her.

Smiling sadly at the vacant spot on the wall where Sirius's picture usually hung, Lupin murmured softly, "It would have been nice to spend this Christmas with you, old friend, but Harry's needs are greater than mine. Last Christmas was so lonely without you, and I'll never forget how sad Harry was that year..."

With a weak smile, Lupin shook his head for talking to himself. Turning away from the wall, he went to the door, locked it, and began his trek down the hall to the main entrance. Not too far along his way, he saw Snape passing in the opposite direction, apparently headed - he didn't know where.

"Severus," Lupin suddenly said and stopped walking.

Snape had been looking at the floor, which was odd, and he seemed more distant than was usual, even for him. Ever since that horrible encounter with Voldemort that month before, Lupin had noticed a change in Snape. Snape didn't say anything to prove the point, but it was in the little things that people like Lupin and Dumbledore noticed that change. Snape seemed quieter and more withdrawn - even more so than they had ever witnessed with him, and that was saying something.

Snape seemed visibly shaken for a moment when he heard his name called out. Gazing up from the ground, his black eyes met Lupin's for a split second, but then he promptly avoided Lupin's gaze.

"What is it, Lupin?" he muttered.

"I was just headed out," Lupin stated awkwardly, "and, well, I won't be back for a week. Since I saw you, I thought I would say goodbye and happy Christmas and all that."

"Indeed," came the sneering voice. "How thoughtful of you."

Lupin wondered if he should dare probe further, so he tried to choose his next words carefully. "Severus- are... are you all right?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Snape barked. "Would you be all right if you were in my position?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't need your sympathy or anyone's. Good day to you, Lupin," Snape said in way of dismissal, and he stalked off.

Lupin stood in the hall for a moment, wondering if he should persue the matter (or the man) further, but he thought it would be a fruitless endeavor. Going to the Headmaster would be simply reiterating things Dumbledore already knew, and besides, Lupin was looking forward to what he felt was a well-deserved visit with Tonks. He didn't need Severus Snape and his bitter attitude bringing him down into the Valley of Depression. Exhaling and with a single shrug, Lupin resumed his pace and soon enough was on his way.

Meanwhile, Snape had returned to his chamber. The usual holiday feast was nearing, and he knew that if he didn't attend, Dumbledore's head would be appearing in the grate at any moment now, asking why he wasn't present. Festering in his figurative black bile, Snape had the armchair purposefully turned away from the fireplace. Reaching for the decanter of whiskey, Snape poured himself another glass and downed it. If he was going to be miserable, he could at least be miserable and intoxicated.

A worthless, bloody wreck of a bloke I am, he thought brokenly. The bane of both the Dark Lord's and Dumbledore's existences... some pathetic shadow of a man who spends his life walking through murky marshes of grey... I should have let them kill me... or I should have offered to do so myself and save them the trouble.

Feeling like he was drowning himself in a lake of desolation at the end of his rope, Snape was suddenly brought out of his middle-of-the-day nightmares by the sound of Dumbledore's beckoning voice.

"Severus," he called gently. When Snape refused to answer, Dumbledore called again, but then, Snape felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and tried to pull away, but Dumbledore's grip was amazingly firm for his age.

"I'm not going to dinner," Snape spat, not even looking at Dumbledore, "so don't even bother to ask."

"The feast is still an hour away," Dumbledore said plainly. "I came to speak with you. Severus, for heaven's sake, at least look at me."

"How can I look at you when I have failed you, Albus?"

"Failed me?" Dumbledore was astonished. "No, no, no, my boy," he continued in a fatherly voice. "To the contrary, you-"

"Don't you say it!" Snape barked, glaring at the old man. "Don't you say that I'm worthwhile, that you see something worth saving in me! I've heard it before from you - for years, Albus, and damn it, I'm tired of hearing it! I'm tired of... of everything! I just want it all to end!"

"What are you implying, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, clearly worried. "You sound like a man who doesn't want to live anymore."

"Bravo, Headmaster," Snape slurred sarcastically, the alcohol clearly taking effect.

Shaking the younger man, Dumbledore insisted, "You are not in your right state of mind. You've been drinking, and you have locked yourself up in these dark, cold dungeons more this past month than you have ever. You are digging your own grave - prematurely - Severus. Please, don't do this to yourself."

"It doesn't matter," Snape muttered, gazing down at his feet.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but what happened to you? You seemed to be fairing well, all things considered, not too long after that incident last month. If you think back on this past year, think of where you were a year ago compared to today - or at least not that long ago, before you began making yourself miserable." At the end of these words, Dumbledore cast a sobering spell on Snape.

Snape thought, feeling his head clearing of the alcohol-induced blur that had previously inhabited. He remembered how he had finally felt some true recognition from others in his daily life who he never thought would do so. Harry Potter stood in the forefront of those individuals. He recalled the grudging respect the boy had earned for him, how he no longer thought of Harry as being just like his father. He knew he had in some way or another saved the boy and his friends on several occasions these past few years. He remembered feeling at a loss for words as the whole room full of people applauded him for finding a cure to Lupin's Lycanthropy, how even Sirius had thanked him. He remembered how many of the staff had visited him in the hospital bed recently, even hearing how Hagrid had shed tears for him. And finally, he thought of the one person who, through thick and thin, through all these years, had taken him under his wing and treated him better than he deserved and had given him a second chance at life. That person was standing right in front of him at this very moment, and he never felt more like curling into a ball like a frightened animal and hiding under a rock.

"I'm a fool," Snape whispered.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore chuckled gently, "but a mistaken fool and only of your own accord. You are your own worst judge, Severus; you know that."

"I don't deserve your kindness," Snape insisted. "Why? Why do you persist, you old codger?"

"Because, my boy," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, squeezing Snape's shoulder, "I stand by what I have always said: that you are worthwhile."

Snape resisted sneering at the predictable comment, but thought better of it. He groaned instead, which caused Dumbledore to laugh. "Come now, let's go to the Great Hall. What you need is some good company and some good food."

Although some of the staff were more annoying than what he considered good company, Snape knew the food would be good, so he followed Dumbledore out of the darkness and into the light.

Lupin appeared outside Tonks's door. His suitcase was shrunken to a size small enough to stow in his tattered coat pocket, so he walked toward the door without anything holding him back, including his own shyness. He had gotten over that awkward phase with Tonks, and the more time he spent with her, the more he felt like he had always known her. True, they had been friends for a couple of years already, but if he would have gone back in time and told his younger self that he would be dating this lovely young lady, his younger self would not have believed it.

Standing there in the snow, Lupin could still remember that first time he had met Tonks. It had been about two and a half years ago, the summer between Harry's fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, and he had been at Grimmauld Place. When she walked in the door for the first official Order of the Phoenix meeting, Sirius had introduced her as his cousin, explaining that she was one of the youngest Aurors for the Ministry. When Lupin saw her, he thought she was beautiful, but he never had worked up the nerve to tell her so - until now.

He knocked twice on the door, and it was only a matter of a couple of seconds before the door swung open, revealing a very excited Tonks.

"Remus!" she exclaimed delightedly. "I was waiting for you!"

Before he could even respond, she was hugging him tightly, and Lupin felt a smile beaming on his face as he hugged her back. "It's good to be here," he murmured contentedly into her ear. "I'm sorry for not arriving sooner."

"It's all right. Now, come inside before you freeze to death out there."

Lupin followed Tonks into the quaint cottage and glanced around at its cozy interior. "You have a nice place," he observed.

"It's not much, but it's home," Tonks said with a shrug. "Besides, it's not as if this is the first time you've seen it."

"Yeah, I know, but it's still nice."

There was a pause, and Tonks decided she would have to make the next move.

"Well, can I take your coat and offer you a seat and something to drink, or do you plan on standing there all day?" she teased.

"Oh, of course... sorry," Lupin replied with a grin, realizing he had been gawking while standing in one place near the door. Removing his shabby overcoat, he handed it to Tonks, who gave a look of disapproval at the garment's condition, wondering why he hadn't replaced it. Surely he made enough money now to do so. He then removed his boots and stepped further into the living area, taking a seat at the table.

Tonks was busying herself by the stove, removing what appeared to be a pot of tea and a tray of biscuits. She proceeded to pour a cup for each of them and placed the two cups and the tray of biscuits on the table.

Sitting down, she pointed out, "I'm not much of a cook, but I thought a little bit of holiday baking couldn't hurt. As long as you can bite into one of them fine, I'll know they are at least edible." She motioned toward the plate.

Taking this as a cue that he was supposed to test the biscuits, Lupin reached for one and took a bite. It tasted sweet, but not overly so, and the consistency seemed just right.

"Perfect," he said in between bites.

"Well, have another one, then," Tonks urged, gazing up and down his body. "Merlin knows you need it. You're still so thin, Remus."

"I know," he sighed. "Even though I haven't undergone a transformation in several months, I still feel the wear and tear all those years of transforming have placed on my body. Maybe I'm just getting old..." He thought of how prematurely grey his hair was and the lines under his eyes.

"Nonsense," Tonks argued gently, reaching for his hand. "You're not old."

"I'm pushing forty, Nymphadora. I'll be thirty-nine in March." He smiled slightly.

"Hardly old. Look how old Dumbledore is!" she exclaimed. "You have many, many years left."

"I hope so," Lupin murmured, thinking about the imminent war.

Tonks picked up on this and squeezed his hand tenderly. "Hey," she said softly, "don't think like that." Tonks thought about the recent deaths of her own parents, but she knew that she had to be positive if she was to mentally survive this whole war.

"Anything's possible," Lupin pointed out matter-of-factly. "I can't kid myself, especially when my physical strength is not what it used to be. I nearly died six months ago. Had it not been for Severus's potion..."

"But you didn't die, Remus. You didn't. If there's anything worth knowing that anyone taught me, it was to never give up and to keep fighting. You taught me that, Remus."

A confused look crossed his face. "I did? But I don't remember saying-"

"You didn't have to say the exact words. You were there for me at a time when I thought I would feel so very alone, and you gave me the reassurance I needed."

I did that? Lupin wasn't sure what to say, but gazing into her eyes, he knew she meant every word. Then, without realizing what he was doing, Lupin found himself leaning toward her, closing the small distance between them. His eyes were half-closed, half-open, and he felt like his mind had gone somewhere else entirely. He could feel his heart beating fervently in his chest and all over his whole body, and she was leaning toward him, her eyes in the midst of closing completely, her lips swollen and reaching out to his, surrendering herself to him, and he to her. In an instant, their lips touched for the first time.

All thoughts of everything - of aging, of the war, of possible death, of loss, of anything bad - disappeared, and they melted into a world that was all their own. Eyes closed, they were someplace far off and away, and they never wanted to come down from that emotionally-driven feeling of flying high over the earth. Finally, though, the need to breathe deeply prevailed, and they released the kiss, but its feeling didn't fade away.

"Happy Christmas, Remus."

"Happy Christmas, Nymphadora."