New Year’s Eve, 1991

Severus Snape stood silently in front of the Mirror, staring darkly into its reflective depths. He narrowed his black eyes as he beheld his deepest desire, and felt his heart flutter in his chest at the vision before him. He frowned as he found himself wondering what the boy had seen, and if it were as shallow a desire as he would have expected from the son of James Potter. He dared not ask the headmaster; such things were best kept private, and the headmaster would undoubtedly keep Potter’s secret safe, just as he had protected the arrogant boy all year.

Severus turned away from the Mirror, irritated that his mind had once more turned to thoughts of Potter; the green-eyed git would be the end of him yet. He grimaced to himself, for both his rough thoughts and his naive desires, then wiped his face blank as Professor Dumbledore entered the empty classroom.

“I appreciate your assistance in this matter, Severus,� the headmaster said quietly, blue eyes studying the potions master from behind his half-moon spectacles. “I hope you have not been waiting long.�

Severus inclined his head courteously, lank black hair falling in his face to break their momentary eye contact. “Not at all, Professor.�

“You had a moment to look into the Mirror, then?� continued Dumbledore, his expression both curious and compassionate.

“I did,� answered Snape curtly, hoping his tone would preclude any further inquiry. Dumbledore was astute, and understood the unspoken signal. He nodded sagely and turned to look into the Mirror himself. The headmaster sighed heavily, and Severus briefly wondered what a man as powerful as Dumbledore might truly desire, and why he might sigh with such melancholy upon seeing it in the Mirror.

“All right, then,� Dumbledore said softly. “It is time to let go of dreams, and live.�

Severus narrowed his eyes; what did the headmaster dream about that would stop him from living? He pushed aside his personal curiosity, as well as his recollections of what he himself had seen in the depths of the strange glass. He would not allow his desires to overcome him, no matter the cost to his sanity or soul. With a silent nod he helped Dumbledore move the Mirror of Erised to its new home in the third floor corridor.

---

Severus sat by the fire later that night, idly paging through a new text on advanced potions making. It was complete rubbish and he certainly wouldn’t be adopting it for his classes. With a sigh of frustration that had nothing to do with the book, he tossed the heavy volume aside and stood to pour himself a glass of Firewhisky. He had been unable to concentrate ever since he looked in the cursed Mirror. It had taken an unhealthy hold on him, and he regretted ever gazing into its magical reflection as his mind once more turned to thoughts he did not care to dwell on.

He was shaken out of his bleak reverie by a knock at the door. With a flash of annoyance he frowned as he set down the decanter and strode quickly to answer the intrusive disruption. He assumed it was a student, and unceremoniously jerked the door open, prepared to reprimand whoever was interrupting yet another New Year’s Eve spent alone.

It was the headmaster.

“Professor.� Snape recovered quickly, and inclined his head to his unexpected guest. “I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. Why aren’t you at the New Year’s feast?�

“I’m on my way there now, Severus,� replied Dumbledore, smiling. “I was hoping you might join me?�

Severus narrowed his eyes, tempted; but he finally shook his head, knowing his prickly personality had no place at the Hogwarts table during the holidays, particularly when plagued by such maudlin thoughts. “Thank you, but I’d prefer my solitude this evening.�

Dumbledore sighed in disappointment. “Some year I hope you will take me up on my offer, and join us, Severus. A bit of holiday cheer might do you well.�

Severus raised his eyebrow at the very thought. “I am not exactly a cheerful man, Professor.�

“I suppose not,� said Dumbledore. “But perhaps someday . . . nevertheless, I did want to give you this.� He handed Severus a box wrapped smartly in colorful paper and topped with a large blue bow. “Happy New Year, Severus.� With a final tilt of his head, Dumbledore bowed and made his way toward the Great Hall.

Severus slowly shut the door. A strange mixture of emotions touched his heart; he had not received a gift of any sort for years, let alone a gift from the headmaster himself at the turn of the new year. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, or how he should feel. He certainly had no idea what could possibly be wrapped inside the vibrant box.

Frowning to himself, Severus returned to his seat by the fire. He studied the box and pondered what he might find upon opening the unexpected gift. Another book on potions? Rare ingredients for his personal store? A set of new gobstones?

Severus flexed his thin fingers and with surprising gentleness pulled apart the blue bow, setting it on the table next to him. With a smirk he simply ripped off the multi-colored paper and tossed it into the fire. He held an ordinary cardboard box in his hands, and found that his heart was beginning to beat a bit faster with the anticipation of what lay within.

When he took the lid from the box, his breath caught in his throat at the object which lay nestled inside a pile of soft tissue. It was a delicate glass ornament, exquisite in its etched detail. It was lightly tinted in shades of red and gold, and reflected the warm glow of the fire, tossing glittering sparks of color throughout the darkened room.

It was a phoenix.

As he lifted the fragile ornament from the box, a single red feather fell to the floor. The moment it touched the worn carpet it Transfigured into a large evergreen tree. Severus stood and watched in amazement as the tree was magically covered in glittering candles and shining glass balls. With a flash of fire, Fawkes suddenly appeared, a golden star clutched in his beak. He circled the room, then gently placed the star on top of the tree. He landed on the chair and began a magical song; it filled the room with a warm sound that resonated like a golden bell. The notes moved Severus’s heart, for he knew instinctively what Fawkes – and through him, the headmaster – had given him.

Trust.

Severus had felt his perseverance severely tested with the return of Harry Potter to the magical community. The years spent in silent waiting were over, and the boy Severus held responsible for much of his unfortunate lot in life had finally come to Hogwarts. He knew that many of the others in the castle questioned his ability to be objective when it came to the boy, and that some even kept close watch on his interaction with the young Gryffindor. Severus’s resentment of James Potter had naturally transferred to the son, but had also multiplied a hundred fold with the suspicion of a faculty who now viewed him apprehensively, not to mention the fact that the boy was every bit as confident and cocky as his dead father.

Severus had looked into the Mirror of Erised earlier that night and seen himself. He had no Dark Mark, no past to atone for, no crimes to regret. There was no chip on his shoulder from the sideways glances and hateful looks he received from students and teachers alike. He was rid of Potter, his anger and bitterness gone, his life free of guilt and remorse. He was respected, and he was trusted.

Severus hung the elegant glass ornament on the tree, studying it with bright eyes. The headmaster had read his mind, if not his heart as well, and had granted him a truly magical gift this holiday. “Tell him thank you,� he said quietly to Fawkes. With one last chirp, the brilliant bird disappeared in a second flash of fire.

Severus poured himself another glass of Firewhisky and returned to his chair. He turned toward the tree and casually studied its glowing branches. It was the first tree he had ever had in his office, even if it was a few days late. The exquisite phoenix reflected the lights of the candles, and Severus found himself strangely mesmerized by the ornament’s beauty. Hope blossomed in his heart as he gazed at the dancing glimmers tossed about the room.

Trust was a beautiful thing.

Severus absently stared at his left forearm. Perhaps if one aspect of his vision came true, the others might as well. Perhaps one day he would be free of the Dark Mark he knew still scarred his skin. Perhaps he would be free of the regrets that plagued him, the bitterness that poisoned him. Perhaps he would be respected, as he was now trusted.

And perhaps one day he would be free of Potter.

Until then, he would honor Dumbledore’s trust in him and protect the boy. He had somehow earned the headmaster’s faith and would not violate that sacred bond. Whether he would achieve the rest of his heart’s desire remained to be seen; at least for one night he would have hope.

Severus smiled sadly to himself as he took up the potions book once more. The light from the tree brightened the gloomy study, and far away across the grounds he heard the echo of a glorious song, welcoming the New Year with faith and love.