Snape's Christmas Carol

Stave One: Baron's Ghost

Snape smirked to himself as he watched Harry Potter leave his dungeon. Power was a wonderful thing, but it was useless if one couldn't use it to effect the changes one sought. Oh well, there was always tomorrow. Snape checked over his classroom one last time to be sure that everything was set to rights for the night. Then with a wave of his wand, he extinguished the lights, locked the door, and headed for his solitary rest.

When he arrived in the dim corridor outside his room, he looked at his door in surprise. It seemed to have grown a head! Yes, a blood-spattered head was hovering in the middle of his door. He closed his eyes and shook his head sharply. When he opened them again, the head was gone. He frowned, thinking that he must be more tired than he'd thought.

He opened the door and entered his chambers, being very careful to lock the door behind him against surprise. His fire burned low in the grate. He didn't bother to bring any other light up into the room. Darkness had never bothered him. It was peaceful and easy, soothing after a day of dealing with life's frustrations...students!

Snape crossed the room to his desk and opened a cupboard. From within he extracted a glass and a bottle of very old brandy. With a small contented smile he poured himself a dram and retreated to his chair by the fire. Where he loosened the top buttons of his robes and leaned back into his chair with his glass.

The sharp tolling of a bell brought him rudely back to consciousness and halfway out of his chair. What the hell was that? There aren't any bells around here. He glanced around, but all seemed normal. Shaking his head, he sank back into his chair. He must've dozed off. It had been a very long trying day. Aren't they all!

Comfortably he settled back and stared into the fire. He gradually became aware of a distant clanking sound, and it was getting louder. Suddenly the flames in the fireplace flared up, and the clanking sound increased to a painful volume.

Snape sat up and looked around frantically. What was going on? Then a ghastly face appeared in his fireplace. For a brief moment, Snape felt himself shiver in fear. Then he recognized the face, as the full figure of the Bloody Baron made its entry into his sitting room through the fire.

"Oh, for god's sake, Baron! What kind of an entrance is that to make? Are you trying to startle me into next week?"

The Baron stared spectrally at Snape. "My apologies if I frightened you, Professor Snape."

Snape snorted and leaned back in his chair. "You'd have to try harder than that if you truly wished to frighten me, Baron. What brings you to my rooms so late?"

The Baron floated down into the mate to Snape's chair by the fire. "It's Christmas Eve, always a restless night for spirits."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"It's a night of reminders of the happiness and comfort of life that I wasted, Professor Snape. It's a night that never fails to remind me of how I came to be a wandering spirit instead of being able to find a much-needed rest after a long life. I should like to spare you the same fate that I've suffered."

Snape looked astonished. "Me? What do your circumstances have to do with me? Surely our life paths are sufficiently dissimilar."

The baron shook his head and moaned. "Not in the ways that count."

Snape shook his head in return. "I don't understand."

"In my lifetime, I scorned the love of a good woman, belittled my family, betrayed my comrades, and sought power and influence over all. I was cruel and cold to all who crossed my path. After my death, I discovered that I was doomed to wander eternally, unless I could obtain forgiveness from those I'd wronged in life. Just one person's forgiveness would do to set me free to rest. But once they'd all died and slipped the bounds of earth, my hope was gone. So I wander and watch over what I can no longer have."

Although he didn't want to admit it this ghostly confidence made Snape very uncomfortable. So he sneered, slipping back into the comfortable and familiar. "So you're here to save my eternal soul, eh? How thoughtful of you."

The Baron flew into a rage. "Do not mock me, sir! I seek to do you good!"

Snape shrank back into his chair in the face of such ghostly ire. "I meant no offense, Baron. How do you mean to help me?"

"By knocking some sense into that thick head of yours, Snape! Do you really want to wander this earth as a spectre, eternally begging for the forgiveness of Harry Potter?"

Snape swallowed hard. Now there was an unpleasant picture!

The Baron nodded in satisfaction at the expression on Snape's face. "Right. I thought so. Let's give this a go, shall we? You will be haunted by three spirits."

Snape frowned at the Baron. "I'd really rather not."

The Baron loomed over him. "Without their visits, you haven't a prayer, Snape! Expect the first when the hour tolls one, and for your own sake remember what we've talked about."

With that final admonishment the Baron flew wildly around the room for a moment and then exited once more through the fireplace.