Snape’s Birthday



It was well past midnight and still she couldn’t sleep. The air in her bedroom seemed stale and oppressive. Maeve shifted uneasily in her bed, the covers heavy and cumbersome when normally they were comforting and warm. Somewhere in the darkness animals shifted, moving the earth and undergrowth as they went about their nocturnal business. Finally admitting defeat she threw back the claustrophobic blankets and slipped from the bed, her skin breathing happily in the sudden draft of air that surrounded her. She moved the curtain to reveal the inky darkness of the night. The vast expanse of sky was punctuated by the glimmer of an occasional, lazy star, winking from its secure position in the heavens.

Her skin was crawling with unrest. She could feel a strange pull from the night and without hearing it she knew the wind had altered its direction and was blowing a restless change from the East. The chill of the night’s impatient intent was in her room and goose bumps appeared on her pale flesh as she stood, barefooted and without a robe. Somewhere out there was the answer to her restlessness and if only she could pinpoint it she would be able to settle.

Her heavy, green robe hung by the door and without hesitation she shrugged it over her shoulders and slid her feet into the long, suede boots that flopped by the coat stand. A quick glance back into the room revealed little but for a brief moment she thought she saw a glint of light flash across the office. The sudden scent of forests and musky woodland was in the air, tinged with the sharp smell of running water. She licked her lips as she opened the door and could taste the bitter wind on them, a sharp salty taste that made her tongue draw back into her mouth.

The corridors were empty, unlit and unwalked by anything, man or ghost. The only sound came from her own shallow breathing as it escaped slowly and unheeded from her chest. She shivered as unseen spirits passed through her. She almost thought about turning back and taking shelter once more in those thick blankets but something kept her away. Perhaps it was the date, the ninth of January, which kept her from her bed or perhaps it was her own desire. She looked down and was surprised to find a package in her hand, wrapped in silver paper and tied with a black ribbon. A flash of awareness passed through her mind and she saw the contents of the package: wood and paper and glass merged into one.

Her feet moved of their own accord, beating a steady path down and down and down into the depths of the school. Still the cobwebs brushed past her face, prickling her skin as they made contact. She smiled at them, cobwebs of the mind designed to make her stop and rethink her course. She could almost sense their frustration as she brushed them away and continued on her journey. Her breath was now coming in thick wisps of white that formed clouds in the air, shifting shape as they dissolved into nothing.

Here it was. The dark, forbidding door that promised nothing and delivered even less. Would it open at her touch or would it remain closed? Maeve hovered a pale hand over the doorknob and waited for something to happen. Without making contact the round, smooth glass slowly turned and with a sharp click the door opened, creaking backwards on its hinges. She stepped into the darkness and instantly her own luminescence brought some relief to the gloom.

There was a stale odour of dried herbs: thyme, hyssop, lavender, feverfew, and coltsfoot all mingled to overwhelm in a sudden blast of dry air. She sensed rather than saw the cauldron filled with the dregs of the potion designed to keep away unwelcome intruders. In this instance it had failed and she closed the door behind her making the darkness complete.

“Maeve?”

The word was a whisper in the air that rose and fell, resting finally in her ear as she turned towards the source of the reverberation.

“Yes.”

Her reply was soft with the certainty of one used to enrapturing wild animals.

“What do you want?”

Again the voice, it was as dark as the night and just as caressing.

“You.”

Her reply was direct and she felt the coolness of the silver wrapping beneath her fingers. It rustled to itself in excitement at the prospect of being torn open.

A flare of light, candles lit and sputtering, and a pale face that peered into her with a quizzical expression. She laughed, breaking the spell and sending sparks of light flaring round the room in a dizzying display, more candles sprang to life and the face that had been so recently in darkness was forced into the light.

“It’s late.” His voice was sharp as an ice pick and equally as cutting.

“No, Severus, it’s early.” The contradiction was immediate and broke his stride.

“I’m tired,” came the rejoinder.

“I’m exhausted,” she agreed, moving closer to him and allowing the agreement to stretch and bend between them. Pulling them closer together by some invisible, unspoken magic.

“What do you want?” His face was sallow and yellowed by the flickering candles, eyes black against the amber light.

“I have a gift to give,” she replied. Her hand slowly held out the silver wrapped package, the black ribbons disappearing into the shadows of the room.

“You remembered, after all this time.”

“You did not.” She allowed the package to rest in his outstretched hand before letting it go.

“No, I choose not to keep my birthdays lest they begin to keep me.” He caressed the package gently, long fingers feeling for shape and form beneath the enticing wrap.

“You may open it. It is past midnight, after all.”

Talons tore at the paper, black and silver fell to the floor in a waterfall of memories as the gift was revealed. Smiling faces beneath a glassy film, youth and hope gazed up with adamantine faith in a world incapable of failing them.

“This is a gift?” he asked, looking from a childish face to the mature version.

“Yes, it is us as we were meant to be.”

“Nothing can bring us together now.”

“Nothing can keep us apart.”

“How? How can we be together in the way we were then?”

“How can we not be?”

Severus turned away, the photograph of their teenage selves still in his hand, nails clutching at the wooden frame as if letting it go would be letting go of a long-held dream. Her presence resonated through the room, red and gold colliding with the silvery darkness and bringing light were there was none before.

“I made a promise,” she said as the fireplace suddenly burst into flames, filling the room with warmth.

“To whom?” he asked, his face still turned away into the shadows.

“To your mother.” And suddenly his mother was there. Vervain filled the room with a timid, fragile light that shimmered for a time around Severus before fading under the pressure of its being. “I promised her I would keep you.”

“Keep me?” Severus shivered as the light passed over him and receded towards the door. “Keep me?”

“Keep you away from the darkness.” She chewed her bottom lip, feeling the sudden, ferrous tang of blood as she bit too hard and broke the delicate skin. A sliver of red slowly worked its way down the side of her mouth. Severus raised his hand and traced a finger down her face, wiping away the redness. She kept her head still as his cold finger traced the outline of her cheek and neck, a sharp nail dragging down and reaching her collarbone before breaking the contact.

“And you believe you can keep this promise?” he asked in a low voice.

“I don’t believe I have much to do to fulfil the promise. You have already passed beyond the dominion of a dark man and into the realm of the light. I merely have to keep you there.”

Her voice had become silky and persuasive, gold and bright jewels dripping from her words. Her hand slid towards his and clutched at the cold flesh with a desperate need that was driven by the dead and the living. Severus felt the touch of both his mother and the flesh and blood creature before him; he was moved beyond his normal sphere of existence and felt the warm breath of love touching his face.

“How can a creature like you care for a man like me? Such warmth and beauty.” He gave a high, false laugh and she clasped the hand that was touched with her own blood.

“How can I not? We are two sides of the same coin you and I, damaged by our upbringing and lit by our work.”

He gave a short laugh before gripping her hand tightly.

“I want to believe that I have you but I cannot – you have vanished into the distance too many times for me to truly believe.”

“I have no father now, Severus, no home and no anchor. I am yours for as long as you wish me to remain. There are no excuses, no reasons to be separated any longer.” Her eyes flared with heat and he felt the touch of her true lineage as she let her hands rest on his arms.

“I cannot…” He could not finish the sentence as her heat was absorbed into his skin. Her magic mingled with his somewhere beyond the room they stood in and he found himself captivated once again by the fiery woman with a history one would not envy.

“You can,” she said simply. “Forget the past. What has been will be and we will deal with the consequences of that when they arise, as I am sure they will.”

“You have enough to deal with.”

“I love you, Severus. No one ever understood why but it was enough that I did. It never wavered, never faltered and now I am in a position to demonstrate that love again. Trust in yourself and trust in me, regain something of that which was lost.”

“How?”

“Love me in return, you managed it once, I am sure you can again.”

The room hissed and spat as the fire burned abnormally bright. The candles flared in the heated atmosphere. The wind worked its way mournfully through the stones of the castle and played around in the office of Severus Snape as he stood looking into the bright eyes of one he had once loved.

“Of course, you realise that this won’t mean I will be….” He hesitated as she sensed the chink in his armour and moved into his arms. “Nice.”

“No, Severus, I never expected you to be nice. I will settle for the usual acerbic man we have all come to love and hate.”

As his wintry arms wrapped around her the wind sighed and withdrew from the room leaving the fire to burn lower and the candles to become still. Maeve sensed the quiet and allowed herself to sink further into it. The settled air cosseted them towards Severus’s bed and its thin grey sheets but they needed no warm blankets that night. It was something else that kept them warm and saw them through until dawn crept across the castle with its temperate, searching fingers.