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It was quite difficult for all those who had remained at the school for the
holiday to say no to the proposition that the snake like man had made. The severe
looking woman looked much less severe and dabbed at moist eyes as the man retold
the events previous to her.
"Yes, yes, of course I’ll be there." That night the feud between the man
and the woman ceased and they were pleasant with each other.
The maiden lay in her bed staring at the wall murmuring cryptically to
herself or to the wall, it was difficult to decipher. So deep in her thoughts was she
that she scarcely noticed the noises in the hall; happy and excited voices, how she
longed to share in their melody, but like all her Christmases previous, she was to sit
outside alone, cold, forgotten, and dream of what it would be like to sit at that
wondrous table decked with food, candles, and ornamentation. Tonight however,
she would be deprived of her most cherished Christmas delights. It was a game she
had played each Christmas where she would sit or stand outside a window and
watch the family inside merry and bright, and she would name each of them and
make up their lives, their stories. But tonight, she knew the names and stories of
those who ate at their places and to think up their stories, utter nonsense. How
foolish she had been to think that this year might just be different than the year
before. ‘Try and sleep Mac’ she thought to herself, ‘it might make the time pass
more quickly.’ Just as she had closed her eyes the snake like man entered the room
and hissed harshly at her,
"Get up and dressed Mac, now." He left her again. She trembled and did
as she was told, her arms and legs still not functioning correctly and pain from
frostbite searing up her one arm like a bolt of lightning. After tripping twice she
approached the door but could not push past the pain to turn the door handle. A
feeble cry, a whimper of pain and fear fell out of her throat and instantly she
wished she could have caught it before it could do its damage, but unfortunately it
was too late. The snake like professeur opened the door again and it sent her to
the ground with an unsightful soft thump for she was still terribly underweight.
Saying nothing, the man hoisted her to her feet, put his arm just below her
shoulders and helped her walk out of the room. What was he doing? His vindictive
look had never left his face; goodness, he could not be taking her to be punished,
or expelled; she had done nothing, or had she? Was it her fault the roof caved in?
Was it her lily liveredness that had caused her not to assert herself into a better set
of living accommodations? Had she pulled too many pranks? Misused her magic?
Broken too many school rules? What had she done to deserve this? Oh how she
shook and came very near to tears; no girl, don’t cry; don’t show them your fear,
don’t show them you are weak; fight it or die. She fought and thought of how she
would find a box of some sort to cover her head when she was returned to her
street corner. Christmas meant nothing to her, not anymore; it was not a time of
good cheer, it was a time of surviving. To her, Christmas meant that winter had
just begun and bitterly cold days would be arriving in short time. These thoughts
plagued her mind so ferocious that she did not notice to where she was being
hauled off like a sacrificial lamb to slaughter.
The professeur opened a door and helped her through; what she expected
least greeted her with the strongest warmth she had ever felt in her miserable life.
There they sat waiting for her; all the families she had ever made stories about while
watching them from outside their windows, none of their stories could compare to
the real story, to her story. She turned instinctively and looked up at the snake like
man who looked down at her softly and very nearly smiled. To Mac, however, this
was too much; no one ever loved her, no one ever invited her to their table and ask
her to dine as their equal. She turned her eyes downcast and caught her face with
one of her hands and wept; wept strange golden tears, tears of an immortal. Snape
did the one thing no one, least of all himself, had ever expected him to do: he held
her and let her cry against him. It was the greatest gift either of them had ever
received, to love and to be loved.The Greatest Gift
