The castle didn't get much quieter than it did on Christmas Eve. Anyone who'd wanted to go home had, and the early curfew imposed so house-elves and Saint Nicholas could work their magic, ensured most people were in bed at a reasonable hour. But not Melissa, who had brought Snape gingerbread cookies, special ordered from a small Muggle bakery in London, and not Snape, who had spent the better part of the evening hiding from the rest of the rather de-populated castle. He didn't even show up to the small dinner party McGonagall had thrown in the Great Hall. But when Melissa showed up to his office door, he opened it, and offered her a cup of hot cocoa that smelled of cinnamon and cloves and ginger. She'd gotten past the fear he was going to poison her about a week ago, when an incident in the lab occured and without even being asked, she jumped to his left elbow and aided him in containing the situation, handing over ingredients, stirring, lowering the flames.
Her bookmark had been moved past some fluff and filler in the journal, mostly Nox interacting with her study-buddy Remus, and complaining about end-of-the-term assignments, to the festivities within the last few days of term. Instead of sitting behind his desk, marking or writing, as he typically did, Snape picked up a book from one of the lower rows on the bookcase, and joined her by the fireside. He put slippered feet up on a footstool, and leaned back into a low-backed armchair, fire on his left side.
Before dipping into the leather-bound book, he made an absent gesture toward her throat. "Opal?"
Melissa's fingers rose to the pendant that hung off her neck, suspended on a silver chain. "Um...yeah. Early Christmas present from a friend."
A non-commital grunt, before dark eyes dipped down to the printed text.
She followed suit.
**********
"Nox!"
"What?!"
"I give up with the loose curls! Come do your updo magic!" With a sigh, half of her faux-bob up and the other half down, she tripped over Narcissa's heels into the bathroom they shared, and groaned. The back of her friend's head looked like a clown wig, while the front was pin straight.
"What did you even do?"
"I dunno... I read this in some magazine that I could use Sleakezy's to make curls look curlier and..."
"You used Sleakezy's - a straightening conditioner - to make curls?"
Narcissa blubbered gently, before dipping her head to mutter something into her chest. Melissa began to gather the frizzy bits of hair and twisting them into a chignon, which was beautifully thick, and braiding the super-straight peices of her brunette hair back into the gathered chignon, leaving a few shorter strands around her friend's heart-shaped face. The dress she was going to be wearing was a goddess-inspired dark green that showed off her pale, perfect, porcelain skin.
"There you go. Lucius isn't gonna know what hit him."
"Trust me, he'll know exactly what hit him, if I have anything to say about it."
Nox chuckled, and starting pinning up her faux bob once more, watching Narcissa enchant layers of makeup to her face. Narcissa was queen at that. Nox was good at changing her facial features with magic, but if you wanted a bright red lip that would not move until you got out the make-up wipes, despite who you kissed, or what you ate or drank, Narcissa was the gal. "You need the room empty tonight?"
"Nono, he has a room at The Three Broomsticks, and then I'll just apparate straight home from there. Mum gets fussy around the holiday season."
"Good. 'Cause last time you forgot the silencing charm."
Narcissa's jaw dropped, and Nox skittered out of the bathroom, laughing, until she tripped over Narcissa's shoes, and then the laughter got louder, as her friend joined in.
**********
I hate Christmas. There had always been a fight on Christmas, and there had never been presents. Lucius had forced me into a pair of sleek dress-robes, all in shades of dark grey, his own all white and gold, pouffy Renaissance poet's sleeves included in his get up, wand concealed in his walking stick. "I feel ridiculous."
"Nox will like it, and you look fine." The long, platinum blonde hair flowed over his shoulders, grey glare and proud smirk somehow completing his shining royal get-up where I looked like a thundercloud of discontent. Although, bathing with Nox had turned my hair from strands of grease to fine, and straight, one that I was always carelessly brushing back over the top of my head, trying to get it out of my eyes. "Are you gonna be dancing?"
"Do pigs fly?"
"No..."
I gestured broadly, still waiting for our dates just outside the doors to the Great Hall, which was already bustling with people, and plenty of couples making their way out into the garden set up just outside, for the purpose of long, quiet walks in the cold. "Exactly."
"Nox can dance."
"And how do you know that?"
"Runs in the aristocracy, Snape. After a-" His grey eyes traveled down the corridor, and his jaw dropped, before a beautiful sleek-haired girl in a dress the colour of emeralds crashed into his open arms, giggling and gloriously happy. Narcissa was beautiful, as always, tucking a few artfully loose strands of hair behind her ears, the look effortless and natural.
It was a sharp contrast to the Bond Girl striding with an poignant sort of grace down the corridor toward me, the torch-lights playing in and among the dark lace of her gown, highlighting the smooth curves of her athletic body, cap-sleeves making sure you saw the length and confidence in her stride. Her lips were the colour of a ripe peach, amber-eyes darkened by fine kohl, hair shortened into a curly bob, then held out of her face with pins I could barely see.
"Evening, Severus."
I took her right hand, and brought it to my lips, smirking. "And to you, Nox."
**********
It was beautiful, a wild night of riding on James's shoulder, spinning under a crystal chandelier, listening to Christmas carols, once in a while getting a cold blast of air as people left or returned to the Great Hall. At some point, after the clock in the courtyard outside struck eleven, the fruit punch that everyone had been sipping on began to bubble with champagne, and the band quietened to a slow waltz, allowing people to approach and make requests.
I'd been watching Nox all night long, she rocking the scars her transformation had left her with in a lace dress that was nearly completely backless, her makeup dark and intentions darker, dancing with anyone who wanted to dance with her, except her boyfriend. He sat on the sidelines, looking solemn, and drinking fruit punch, his eyes never wandering far from her as she jigged and waltzed and was spun in circles until she fell off of her heels by Remus, who didn't know what to do with her otherwise. That particular dance, she left her partner with a kiss on the cheek, and he turned a shade of pink so bright that we thought his head had been dunked in the punch bowl. Very seriously, after a few glasses of champagne, James took Sirius out on the dance floor and the two turned the whole thing into a sham, by bickering through the beautiful piece of classical music about who was leading and who was following, much to the uproar of the room in general.
As the crowds began to move out, tired, or needing a walk in the gardens, is when Lucius Malfoy stepped out onto the dance floor, a vision in pealescent white and not-quite gold that stood out in the red and green decorations of the room. Carefully, he removed his overcoat, his cravat, his hat and left them on the side of the dancefloor with his cane, shaking the platinum hair into a long ponytail tied with a hunk of silk ribbon. With a partially open shirt and huge Renaissance poofy sleeves, he gestured to the band who started up a song that drew images of Spainish girls in dresses with lace sleeves and voluminous skirts, high energy, lots of violin, a very consistent and strong beat.
His hand reached for the youngest of the Black sisters, who did not meet his eyes, looking quite shy about it. Maybe she didn't like the thought of being with him, alone, in front of the eyes of people, made her uneasy. So, Malfoy made a quarter turn, and on the corner of the dance floor, her dress transformed into something that looked more like lingerie, showing off the garter and stockings she wore, up on the toes of dancer's heels, arms high over her head, was Denarius.
The dance that came from the pair of them was confused, hard, but sexy, his hands ever-constant in the small of her back as her hips shifted under lace and satin. He would throw her away from him, but then whirl her back to him, commanding her gaze to his. Their feet kicked up and down in between each other's legs, moving as one unit, until she was lifted up over his head, spinning, back arched, gorgeous. The dichotomy was real, people holding their breaths as the dancer's chests heaved, and Denarius kicked up her legs, feet a flurry of movement, turning up on her toes, crushed to Malfoy's chest.
And then Severus stepped onto the dance floor, eyes dark and possessive, and the band froze as he went over, and plucked his girlfriend out of Lucius' grip, and swept her up in his dark pewter dress robes. Anywhere he touched her, the fabric changed from black and lacy to a deep burgundy chiffon, and soon she was standing in a floor-length, flowing gown, tucked under Severus's chin, tight to his chest. He rocked her back and forth, around and around in a slow waltz, soft, gentle.
Malfoy again invited his date out onto the dancefloor, and she joined him, other pairs rushing out onto the dancefloor to join them in a slow, careful dance. I lost sight of Nox, and soon stopped caring, as James's heartbeat overwhelmed my thoughts, and his lips made sure my heart flooded.
**********
Melissa startled awake on Christmas morning, when the few other occupants of Ravenclaw Tower brought brightly wrapped presents up to her quarters, and everyone unwrapped together, wishing each other 'Happy Christmas'. Her pile was a little smaller than what she'd been expecting, but she realized that as she got older, the presents got smaller, and the experiences got more important.
From her father and his new girlfriend Emlyn, there was a simple silver bracelet, very dainty, with the translation of her Cree name inscribed in Greek letters on a little rectangular plate with rounded corners that reminded her of a cartouche. It was immediately fastened to her left wrist, and hung quite prettily.
From her Grandad, she recieved a rather large box, in which he had managed to collect an assortment of teas from around the world, the largest bag devoted to the ingredients she used in her calming teas for teatime. It was highly appreiciated, and was placed up on the mantel of her fireplace so she could have easy access to it.
Christopher and Alex had chipped together to get her a new set of fine quills, including a deep red india ink that reminded her of Persian henna. They were put aside for exams, as she knew the elaborate tips would make her smile when writing out study notes.
And then the few people around her clambered over piles of tissue paper and curled remember to hug her, squealling about their new little bauble, or the Ravenclaw sweater she'd noticed needed replacing, or the hand-knitted scarf made of soft, warm wool, or a hand-written coupon to get their robe repaired. Everybody got something, she'd made sure of it.
Melissa's heart swelled, when she recieved another round of hugs when the Slytherins came pouring into the Ravenclaw Common Room about an hour later, a few very descreetly leaving small boxes on the steps up to her quarters. Janus pressed a sketchbook into her hands, and she marvelled at the detail in which he'd managed to capture images of her. A few had been enchanted, so the moved when your eyes weren't on them, small flickering movements like an arm moving to stir a cauldron, or playing with a quill as she studied. From the other small packages were candies, perfume, and someone had charmed the box shut around a bouquet of Tudor roses.
Christmas was wonderful.
**********
She was very nearly asleep on his shoulder, their compartment toward the back of the train a quiet one, left alone by other Slytherins, even the prefects who occassionally wandered down this far. Trunks swaying overhead, Ares sent ahead with a letter to her father, wondering whether they'd be staying in London over Christmas or returning to their villa in Italy. The soothing sounds of the train wheels clacking along the rails underneath them was a smooth, repetative thrum, much like the beating of Severus's heart on her back.
"...sev...?"
An eyebrow arched at her, and after coming to the end of his paragraph, he looked over, and absently brushed a few soft curls out of her face. "Yes?"
"When did we stop pretending?" Without makeup or a little bit of transfiguration magic, the dark circles under her eyes and fresh scars on her face and shoulder would bother him. She thought of getting up to go fix herself up, but the question hung in the air, the silence going from amicable to awkward.
When he did speak, he dipped his lips to her ear, and with his voice cracking, hand moving to cover hers and clutch it tightly. "When I was drunk at your bedside and thinking of ways to kill Lupin for what he did to you. When I memorized the recipe for Wolfsbane so you'd never have to endure that sort of agony again." There was a sentence recanted, but he managed to portray it with the ebony ferocity in his eyes, she reaching up to cradle the back of his head, guiding his lips to hers so those words would never have to be voiced aloud.
When Lily betrayed me.