He remained kneeling on his bed for some time, quietly pondering his next move. Then, all of a sudden, he leapt off the bed and ran into his bathroom to stare at himself in the mirror. The same old pallid face looked back at him, but there was a spark of light in those dark eyes that had not been there before. With a strenuous effort, he forced himself to crack a smile. The muscles of his face groaned at the unfamiliar task to which they were being put, but eventually gave way. The release felt liberating to Snape in a way he could not have imagined.
“Merry Christmas!” he said to himself. “A merry Christmas it is indeed! I will keep my promise, O Spirits of Christmas. I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future. I will not shut out my fellow man, but put others first in all that I do. This I swear.”
He rushed to his closet to find a brighter change of clothing, but discovered that every set of robes that he owned were black. “Oh, well, what I’m wearing will do,” he said. He went over to the window and pushed it open to look out at the day.
It was a bright, sunny morning. It had been snowing, but the snow had combined with the grime of Spinner’s End to create an ugly, mushy sludge that covered the street. Still, to Snape the sight was beautiful: a new day had come, a day in which anything was possible.
A thought came to him: How long have I been gone? Spotting a young Muggle boy hurrying down the street he called out to him. “Hey, you!”
Most local residents upon hearing the voice of Snape (or as they knew him “that mad guy who lives on the corner”) would have put their heads down and run. Fortunately for Snape, this particular boy was not familiar with him, as he was staying with relatives close by for Christmas. So he merely stopped and looked up in surprise.
“What day is it today?” Snape asked.
“You nuts or somefink?” the boy replied in a gruff voice.
Snape resisted the urge to correct the boy’s use of English. “Just answer the question,” he said.
“It’s Christmas Day, of course,” said the boy, and hurried off shaking his head.
“Christmas Day!” exclaimed Snape. “It all happened in one night. That was some remarkable magic, whoever performed it. This is wonderful, I know exactly what I must do.” Quickly, he washed and shaved, put on his winter coat, and Apparated away from Spinners’ End.
He arrived on Hogsmeade High Street, which was thronged with people, just as he remembered it from the vision Nearly Headless Nick had shown him. He mingled with the crowds, and to everyone whose eye he caught he offered a hearty “Merry Christmas!” and sometimes a warm handshake. Such was the change in his demeanour that by the next day the Ministry had received no less than twenty-seven panicked letters by owl, warning them that someone with Polyjuice Potion was impersonating Severus Snape.
Snape was most fortunate that a few shops were still open, as he had a couple of important purchases he needed to make. He went up and down the High Street until he had found what he was looking for, and everywhere he went he was courteous and friendly, and sympathised with those shop workers having to work on Christmas Day. What surprised him most was how much the gracious thanks of those he spoke to moved him.
At last, he turned away from the High Street and onto the back streets of the village. Soon he arrived at the house of Professor Flitwick, and he knocked at the door.
Flitwick himself answered, and his expression of bewilderment at receiving an unexpected house-call on Christmas Day turned to one of utter shock when he saw who it was standing on his threshold.
“Merry Christmas!” said Snape brightly. “I know this is rather short notice, but I was wondering if I could reconsider my decision to turn down your generous offer of hospitality on this fine day. May I come in?”
“I...I...” Flitwick was temporarily rendered speechless. “Of course you may, Severus!” he said at last. “Come in, come in!”
“Thank you!” said Snape and, reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a wizard’s chess set and handed it to Flitwick. “This is for you. Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it. I remember you saying you broke your last set.” To say Flitwick was astonished would be a serious understatement.
Snape entered, and greeted each of Flitwick’s relatives. He spent all day there, sharing stories and joining in the festivities. Deploying his usual sardonic wit in a more constructive manner, he found that Flitwick’s relatives quickly warmed to him, and by the end of the day they were each prepared to say it was the best Christmas Day they’d ever had.
But Snape was not finished there. Boxing Day found him in London, standing in a familiar square and watching a house appear out of nowhere between houses number eleven and thirteen. He took a deep breath, walked up to the door, and knocked.
“Just a moment!” came a voice from inside, and a few seconds later Harry Potter opened the door, holding a glass of wine. The moment he saw Snape, the glass slipped from his hand and smashed on the doorstep. “Um, er, hello, Professor,” he said uncomfortably. “What can I do for you?”
“May I come in, Potter?” said Snape in his usual flat tone. “There is something I wish to discuss with you.”
Snape was prepared for Harry to refuse, but Harry replied, “Erm, well, yes, all right. Come in. Mind the broken glass.” They went inside and Harry showed Snape into the small front room just off the hall. “Sorry about the mess. Kids, Christmas, you understand.”
“Who is it, Harry?” called the voice of Ginny up from the kitchen.
“You’d better come up here, Ginny,” Harry answered. Ginny climbed the stairs and entered the front room. Seeing Snape, she stopped dead in the doorway, her mouth half-open in shock and a cold expression on her face. “So what do you want to discuss, Professor?” said Harry nervously.
“Well, first of all, I want to give you this,” said Snape. He took a parcel out of his robes and handed it to Harry. “It is by way of the beginnings of an apology.” Harry opened the parcel to discover a family-size photo album. “I thought it would be suitable to house this,” Snape explained, producing a photograph torn in half, showing a young woman with red hair and green eyes. “This should belong to you. No doubt you have the other half.”
Harry and Ginny were rendered completely speechless. “I have seen the past, the present and the future,” said Snape earnestly. “The past I cannot change, but I know the present and the future are within the power of all of us to mould.”
Harry looked down at the photograph of his mother. He remembered seeing Snape take it in the Pensieve, and knew that only he could fully understand what it meant to Snape. Looking up, he met Snape’s eyes. It occurred to him that, because of what he had seen in the Pensieve that night, he knew Severus Snape better than anyone alive. But still, there was a look in his eyes Harry had never seen before. It was a look of openness, of honesty. He really meant what he said.
At that moment, Harry and Ginny’s three children burst into the room. “What’s going on?” demanded James. “Oooh!” he said, seeing Snape.
“Go back downstairs, kids,” said Ginny.
“Actually, no, I’d like them to stay,” interrupted Snape. “You see, the second reason I came was meet your youngest son.” Albus retreated nervously behind his mother. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” Snape said gently. Eventually, Albus stepped forward. His face was pale and his legs were weak, but he met Snape’s penetrating gaze steadily and without looking away. “Yes, you do have your dad’s eyes,” Snape said. Harry nodded; he understood.
Snape looked Albus up and down. “I cannot promise anything, but I may be able to help,” he said at last. “You know I have an extensive knowledge of Dark magic, and if a curse is responsible for Albus’ condition, I may be able to find it.” Harry just stared at him, open-mouthed. Ginny burst into tears.
Snape was better than his word. And to Tiny Albus, who did not die, he was like a second father. He became as generous and fair-minded a wizard and a teacher as the wizarding world had ever known. Everyone around him was astonished by the change, but he didn’t care because, for the first time in his life, he was content.
He never did find out who had sent the ghosts to him, but he was never again visited by spirits. And it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any wizard possessed the knowledge.
He still refused to wear paper hats, though. Some things never change.
And so, as Tiny Albus observed, God bless us, everyone!
A long way away, but also very near, in a place remarkably similar to King’s Cross Station, Albus Dumbledore looked down upon Snape, and smiled. His last task completed, his last debt paid, he turned away, boarded a train, and went on.