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Weeks continued on with no events further, apart from the usual happenings
that gave the school its rich character. The immortal, for the most part,
remained silent but that would change with the utterance of an ill-placed word or
phrase. Certainly her temper coincided with her hair: hot, fiery, and short. The
snake like professeur had begun to take a liking to the girl, admiring her reckless
nature owing to her fearlessness; she found that since they did want her, cared
whether or not she lived or died, that she could begin to develop and explore her
nature and her capabilities. Her passion for life was intense and endless; the more
she wanted from it, the more it gave to her, an unquenchable thirst. She obeyed
the rules though, for the most part, but for the rest of the part, she found loop
holes and verily did as she pleased. However, not since the night where she was
discovered an animagus, had she taken her lion form, nonetheless, this did not halt
her experiments in class. It was not uncommon for a quill to run around the room
singing ‘Run! Run! As fast as you can! You can’t catch me! I’m the Gingerbread
Man!’ Once someone had pointed out to the quill that it was in fact a quill and not
a piece of dessert, it would fall stiff, and float back to the girl’s desk; needless to say
it drove her professeurs loopy and drove the other students in the class into fits of
hysterical laughter; but as grand as it was to fill the air with the music of mirth, it
was even grander to fill one’s heart with that melody, unfortunately this was where
the girl ran out of song. She had learnt to control emotion and to lock up her
heart from the world. Students of all years respected her from a far, they even
liked her, tolerated her, and the rare few understood her, but all knew her to be
vastly different than anything their mortal minds could fathom.
By Christmas time the summit became far too intolerable to reside in; it had
snowed Christmas Eve and by the morning, the wretch’s rags could no longer keep
her warmer than if she wore nothing at all. Trembling bitterly she waited on
Christmas morning for the sun to rise and for breakfast. That might warm her
some; her mind drifted away wrapped up in visions of hot porridge for her
breakfast when suddenly she came crashing back to reality as half the roof of the
summit came crashing down blocking the door and top of the stairs. Already blue
from the cold she whispered to the black sky,
"Oh help" and curled up in the corner too afraid of frostbite and bits of the
roof to try and dig herself out.
When the morning sun started to rise she found herself fighting a losing
battle with consciousness; her legs, hands, arms, and parts of her face were blue;
her collar was nearly black she was so cold; huddled in the corner she could see the
snow beginning to fall again; how pretty it seemed; it was a shame she could not
enjoy it properly. ‘Such a pretty poison’ she thought to herself. It would kill her if
nobody noticed she was not there at breakfast. Breakfast, again she thought of a
wondrously hot bowl of porridge until her world went black.
She awoke later that evening under what she feared to be ten wool blankets
and six hot water bottles and a roaring fire in a mysterious fireplace. The room
certainly was a tropical paradise. Never before had she had this much attention
lavished upon her. Carefully she swept the room with her glance looking for
anyone familiar and laid eyes upon the snake like man.
"You’re awake, good. I’ll fetch Mme Pomfrey then." He turned to leave
when Mac called to him.
"Sir, Professeur Snape, please sir, what’s happened?" The man turned back
to her with a slight gaze of surprise.
"You nearly froze to death Mac; why didn’t you say you were living in that
miserable old room? You should be living with the other first year girls." Softly
the wretch replied,
"They didn’t want me sir and I couldn’t argue so I kept on walking and
found a place to stay there; it was better than my straw in my cage sir."
"Your what? What are you talking about? You don't make any sense Mac,
none at all."
"When I received my neck scar, when they put me in a collar, they put me
in a tiny cage and all I had was straw over a concrete floor. They whipped me a
lot, and cut me to see me bleed... You were going to get Mme Pomfrey sir?" The
snake like man stared at her for a moment without the ability to comprehend much
of anything she had said, only snippets: "put me in a collar" straw on a concrete
floor" "whipped me" "cut me". He could not have heard her right, but he shook
his head clear.
"Yes, Mme Pomfrey, I will send her in." He turned towards the door again
when the young old slave in the bed smiled and said cheerfully,
"Merry Christmas sir." The man stopped and turned around again.
"You are either insane or underestimated Mac; after all that has taken place
today..." The girl smiled brightly at him.
"I am alive sir, very, very lucky to be so; do not dwell upon the what ifs of
life sir, they get you no where fast; take each moment as it comes and learn from
the past and get ready for the future."
"Mac...?" She smiled and laughed, a wonderful melody to fill the room
with holiday cheer.
"Sir, it’s my secret of long life!" He looked at her and smiled.
"Merry Christmas Mac. I’ll go and find you Mme Pomfrey and she’ll look
after you."
"Sir, just one more thing, please?"
"What is it now Mac?"
"Do you think, I mean, is it possible to, well, I want to come to Christmas
dinner. I’ve never had one before." The man looked at her, inwardly quite pained
and quite sorry for the girl.
"Perhaps not this year Mac, next year; as skilled as Mme Pomfrey is, you will
need at least a couple days of bed rest." Quite crestfallen she became quite distant
as she spoke.
"Aye, of course sir, how foolish of me..." She turned over on her side and
instantly terminated the conversation. The snake like man watched her and could
not help but feel a part of him break too. It was Christmas, perhaps her first in a
safe haven such as the castle school, and all she wanted was to attend Christmas
dinner; now for as far back as he could remember, he had hated Christmas, the
dinner most of all with those dreadful crackers; but this particular Christmas he
hated most of all for he lay powerless and at the will of this eleven year old girl
from the streets who had never received a Christmas gift, never had a family to
share it with, never been to a Christmas feast. How could he gain some of his
power back? He thought about it as he searched for the doctor and informed her
that the wretch was awake and somewhat alert. As he walked towards the
magnificent hall it came to him; he would bring the feast to her; swiftly like a
garter snake in the grass he found, discussed, and planned the idea with the
headmaster who smiled at the thought.
"Now Severus, I will speak with Poppy if you will inform the others,
alright?" He replied,
"Understood" and quickly departed to arrange the affair.First Christmas
