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SIYE Time:0:44 on 29th March 2024
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Merry Chrismas Mr Filch
By Dianne

- Text Size +

Category: Hogwarts Discovery Challenge (2005-6)
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 14
Summary: ** Winner of Best Adventure in the Hogswarts Discovery Challenge **
A council of dead former Headmasters and Headmistesses is found. Harry should not be among them because he is a survivor of the Killing Curse and there are consequences that cannot lightly be undone.
Oh, and there seems to be some confusion as to the origin of the fog caused by the Dementors so let me directly quote page twenty of HBP...Fudge to the Prime Minister..'We've got Dementors swarming all over the place, attacking people left right and centre...' Once upon a happier time this sentence would have been unintellible to the Prime Minister, but he was wiser now.
"I thought Dementors guard the prisoners in Azkaban? he said cautiously.
"They did," Said Fudge wearily, "But not any more. They've deserted the prison and joined He Who Must Not Be Named. I won't pretend that wasn't a blow.
"But," said the Prime Minster, with a sense of dawning horror, "didn't you tell me they're the creatures that drain hope and happiness out of people?"
"That's right. And they're breeding. That's what's causing all this mist."
Hitcount: Story Total: 4233



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





ChapterPrinter


Well, here it is, warts and all...Merry Christmas and OH, you should see what teacher is called to help...

If any of the students of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry wanted to see the freshly fallen snow that glistened on the grounds of the ancient castle, they had to cast a Clearing Charm to cut through the dense fog that obscured even a glimpse of the picture perfect wintery scene. They sat in the Great Hall which at least afforded a true glimpse of the weather conditions, for the fog that hung in heavy cloud-like ground cover, was not a by-product of the actual weather, but something much more sinister. The Dementors were breeding.

The book that Hermione Granger always quoted, ‘Hogwarts, A History’, contained a passage that stated that the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall would merely reflect the weather conditions outside the castle, but this time it reflected what the conditions of the weather would be like had it not been for the Dementors influence. The book was wrong, much to Hermione’s dismay, for she relied on such constants in her quest to help her friends navigate the castle in times of trouble or unrest. In fact, the enchanted ceiling held much more power, in that it could distinguish natural weather patterns from the unnatural fog that enveloped areas of increased Dementor breeding. In essence, the enchanted ceiling was acting as an early warning system that Dementors were not far away, and with them, Voldemort’s Death Eaters.

The village of Hogsmeade was off limits to students this year for the Christmas shopping season. In fact, even seasoned witches and wizards had to use the ‘Point Me’ Charm to get around to the shops. For Squibs, the shopkeepers had erected posts with velvet ropes for them to hang on to in order for them to get from shop to shop. This year had been predicted to be the biggest shopping season Hogsmeade had ever seen, what with the record high number of students who were staying at Hogwarts rather than going home, but the shops bulged with wares that would never be touched by the students this year.

Harry Potter sat with his friends, Ron and Hermione staring glumly up toward the ceiling, wishing his head was as clear and crisp as the view afforded to him of the gentle snow which fell just below a star studded darkness. If he could see his destination as clearly as those stars, he would have felt so much less conflicted. Harry hadn’t wanted to return to school this year, but after spending August of the summer before his seventh year visiting the graves of his parents and learning nothing from the experience except that he was still as lost as when he had begun, he returned to the one place that had given him his start in the wizarding world. Dumbledore was gone, the one man Harry honestly believed would be around to see him through to the end of his quest to find the Horcruxes and

kill Voldemort once and for all.

Harry knew it wasn’t right for him to feel this way, but he wished that if he’d known he was coming back for his seventh year, he had held off on breaking up with Ginny. He knew it was wrong to feel bad for himself for not keeping her until he was really ready to set off on his own, that he had no right to expect her to stay by his side until he was ready to go and then give him up as easily as it appeared she had done the day of Dumbledore’s funeral. It hurt him to his soul and comforted him at the same time to know that she might be safer without him, that she could move on and meet someone new.

It was Christmas Eve and the teachers had arranged a party including dancing and feasts. Most students took to heart the speech that Headmistress McGonagall had given them about how Dumbledore would have wanted them to make merry and have fun. There was a distinct group however, that found this task a little hard to do. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny, clapped politely at the end of songs and tried to make small talk with others, but mostly, they all seemed preoccupied and in their own worlds.

The following morning, Ginny walked into the Great Hall and sat next to Hermione, nodding briefly to her brother and Harry. The two girls had been pouring over the updated version of ‘Hogwarts, A History’, every day since the new version had come out. The new version had an excerpt that listed the location of the only grave on the grounds of Hogwarts, that of the most recently diseased Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Ginny was moving her lips as she read and Harry was intently lip reading her every silent word. Every time her lips mouthed the Headmaster’s name, Harry felt his chest restrict tightly, for both his great losses last year, Dumbledore and Ginny.

Ginny was mostly interested in the book for her study on the portraits of Hogwarts. Harry had watched her stand for hours in front of particular portraits, turning her head studying every angle and detail of certain portraits. He felt that she would make the most beautiful portrait of them all and he had painted her in his mind time and time again with longing in his heart. So intent was she on her study of the portraits, that she didn’t catch him at his lonely post, watching her, until breakfast was well over, that was. Ginny wanted to be the first to uncover the magic of the portraits which changed according to season, many of the subjects even celebrating Christmas each year.

Ginny dropped her quill that Harry had made her as an early Christmas present. Most students were making gifts this year as there would be no opportunity to shop. He knew that Ginny probably had never heard the song ‘Blue Christmas’ before, but he charmed the quill that he had crafted to play it. Aunt Petunia used to play that song over and over again as she sat staring out the window on Christmas Eve. Harry knew that Ginny loved things that were charmed to play music, but he just couldn’t charm the quill with a merry tune, despite it being Christmas Eve Day.

Ginny followed the quill as it clattered down the ladder she had been standing on, making quite a racket with it’s sad tune. In her haste to silence the quill, Ginny’s foot slipped on the ladder and she fell onto the landing and down five stairs, landing just in front of Harry’s feet, cushioned somewhat by his quick Cushioning Charm. Expecting to be alone, she let a scream escape her lips before she found out that it was Harry that stood before her, offering her his hand to stand up.

Gryffindors poured into the hall, looking at the scene before them with wonder. Boredom was at such an all time high with travel restrictions, that any curious sound in the castle was greeted as a chance for adventure or at least fuel for gossip. Most students went back into the common room snickering about finding Harry and Ginny alone together again. Hermione, Ron and Neville stayed to talk to them, for which Harry was glad because Ginny looked both relieved and unsettled to find Harry at the base of the stairs watching her. She had left him alone. If he wanted the same courtesy, he needed to stop tempting her into thinking that there was still a chance between them.

Ginny was still sitting on the floor, about to ask exactly why Harry had been watching her, when something distracted her so much that her angry enquiry died on her lips.

“Wait a minute...That wasn’t here the first time I looked,” Ginny said in astonishment from her perspective of the portrait of a lady holding a baby in her arms.

Glad for the distraction, Harry asked, “What wasn’t there?” He sat down next to Ginny on the floor and saw immediately what she was talking about. The two of them sat staring up in amazement for so long, that soon, Hermione and Ron were sitting on the marble floor looking up as well. No one spoke for awhile.

Neville and Luna, who had been making their way back in to the common room together, looked up at the portrait from their standing position, making the four on the floor jump with a startled expression on their faces as Luna let out a squeal of absolute mirth.

“What are you looking at?” Neville asked, screwing up his face to see what was so interesting about the portrait that had always been there.

“Sit down, Neville,” Hermione instructed, transfixed. As soon as Neville sat, his head followed the same pattern of viewing that the others were doing. It looked like they were watching a tennis match as their eyes roved from portrait to portrait in utter awe.

“What is this?” asked Ron to no one in particular as Luna just shook her head. Everyone automatically looked toward Hermione, who for once, had no answer.

“It’s a path,” Luna informed them as though it was nothing new. “See? It goes through every portrait in the castle if you look at them upside down or from lying directly beneath.”

Luna was still standing but now she had everyone’s attention for the first time in her life.

“You mean you can see this, even now, standing up?” asked Hermione incredulously.

“Of course, can’t you?” Luna asked simply.

“Ah, no Luna,” Ron informed her. “We’re not used to looking at stuff upside down.

“An overlooked perspective,” Luna responded as she followed the paths with her eyes. Even after Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny had stood up, they lost sight of the paths as if they didn’t exist. Luna apparently, could see them as plain as day.

Ginny and Hermione were fascinated as they all followed Luna, but Ron and Harry followed along mostly out of boredom.

“This is where the path ends,” Luna informed them when they finally stood down in the basement just outside of Snape’s old Potions Classroom. Potions were now held upstairs in the castle and there were cobwebs covering Snape’s old door. Ron tried to hide his shudder as looked at them.

“Well, Snape’s old room was always a dead end in one way or another,” Ron said gloomily. He was anxious to get Harry out of the dungeon before he started reminiscing about the past horrors this room would always house. It was as if the very corridor itself held Snape’s ill will and it made everyone wonder if this was why Potions Class was no longer held here.

“Wait a minute. I know we haven’t been down here in a long time, but isn’t that the door to the Potions Room right there?” Hermione asked, pointing about six feet down the corridor.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “It is. But then what is this door? I’ve never noticed it before.”

When Harry placed his hand on the doorknob, he realized that the doorknob was not real. This was a portrait of a door. The doorframe was nothing more than a picture frame. Even the spider webs that had made Ron’s skin crawl, were paint on canvas. The lone spider that spun it’s glistening web was no more than a painting, though like all the other portraits of Hogwarts, it continued its grim task in a kind of magical loop.

Harry tried to pry the portrait loose so they could all get a look behind it but it was fastened firmly to the wall. Hermione tried a number of spells to loosen the painting of the door but to no avail.

Luna stepped forward and still everyone couldn’t help but roll their eyes as she decided to try her hand at getting the painting loose.

“Look, just there,” she pointed and everyone decided to play along by doing as she asked. Luna’s finger followed a thread of finely spun web to the far right corner of the door painting. The tiny thread was connected to a minute bell. Luna rubbed her finger across the strand of web and the bell rang loudly. It must have had a Sonorous Charm placed on it. The painting swung forward, reminding them of the Fat Lady portrait outside of Gryffindor common room.

When the dust cleared from the picture’s movement, Ron whistled in amazement. “Harry there’s a tunnel here, and it’s definitely not on the Marauder’s Map.”

“No, it isn’t, said Harry. But then neither are those paths in the portraits that led us here. Let’s go have a look around.” Harry was about to reveal that this new found tunnel kind of reminded him of the fake Mad Eye Moody’s trunk, in that it sat here, right next to the Potions classroom but should technically have been overlapping with it. The fake Moody’s trunk where Barty Crouch Jr. had held the real Alistair Moody, must have been similarly charmed, or cursed if you looked at it from the real Moody’s point of view.

“I definitely believe we’re not supposed to be here,” Harry said. “So let’s go anyway.”

Hermione was about to protest but was already over ruled on the subject and so they crept forward with wands lit before them, Harry holding the Marauders Map in one hand and staring incredulously as they stepped through the painting and disappeared from the map altogether. This was a secret place. One perhaps Dumbledore hadn’t even known about.

Luna proved herself more useful than ever as she took the lead and, cocking her head to and fro, deciphered strange puzzles that were carved into the deep stone walls. Everyone froze as they heard several sets of footsteps all around them down the narrow passage. Whoever was following them wasn’t trying to be discreet.

“I think we should turn back,” Neville suggested, but he didn’t sound scared.

“You can if you want,” Harry said, “We’ll see you later and let you know what we find.”

“No, it just seems dangerous for all of us to go. Someone should stay at the entrance way to make sure you can all get back,” Neville suggested. “We really should have left a trail for ourselves to follow back.”

Neville had a good point and they all knew it. It was agreed that Neville would make his way back, leaving a trail for the rest to follow back should they get lost. Harry had already tried the Point Me Spell.


“Why won’t my magic work here?” Harry asked with some annoyance.

“Well, if Neville can’t leave a magical path back for us, what can we use? No one’s magic besides a bit of light, which is getting dimmer, works down here,” Hermione pointed out.

“Ron, hand me that sandwich you have in your pocket,” Ginny said.

“No, I’m saving it for later,” Ron complained. “Besides, if we do get lost, we’ll need something to eat.”

Ginny just reached into Ron’s pocket and handed Neville her brother’s sandwich. “Here Neville, just break up small pieces of the sandwich and we’ll follow the trail of bread crumbs back to the painting of the door.”

Hermione and Harry stared wide-eyed at Ginny. “How do you know about Hansel and Gretel? Asked Hermione, but Ginny didn’t get a chance to answer because Luna did it for her.

“Oh, all wizard children know about Hansel and Gretel,” Luna stated matter-of-factly and Ron, Ginny and Neville all shook their heads in agreement. “You see, the which in that story was partly responsible for worldwide witch hunts. I mean can you blame the Muggles? She ate children.” This time, for once, there were more nods of agreement, when usually Luna’s tall tales of such things were silently mocked by her peers.

“Oh, this is getting better and better,” Hermione huffed. “Imagine, fully grown wizards believing such nonsense.”

“Believe what you will, Hermione,” Luna said indulgently. Harry just shot Hermione a look that clearly said, ‘that can’t be true, can it?’

Ron stared sadly after Neville as bits of bread crumbs hit the floor as they parted company.

The further they got into the tight tunnel, the weaker their magic became to the point where the wands glow was no more than the flicker of a dying candle. Then the wands extinguished entirely.

The only visible light was now coming from a small flame in an area up ahead where the tunnel became a bit wider. Harry’s breath hitched a bit in his throat, but he pressed on, with Ginny right behind him. He chided himself for feeling somewhat safer with her here. He promised himself that he would not rely on that crutch.

There were now the sounds of murmuring voices all around them as they made their way to the larger opening, which turned out be a large stone room with a canvas wall mural on one side of a round table with rows upon of rows of chairs winding around all around. There were at least twelve that faced the table directly.

No one said a word as one by one figures began to take their places around the round table. One by one the seats all filled up until there was one seat with a large white sheet underneath it sprawled on the floor that still remained empty.

The figures in the picture were gradually getting nosier with what could only be described as small talk until they suddenly came to order in a great hush that also shut Ron up, who had been babbling non- stop about the scene before them.

Now that a fire was blazing brilliantly in the painted grate in the mural, which now filled all four walls, Harry and those that still stood behind him could now make out portraits that lined all corridors leading to this unknown place and in each portrait, the same winding path followed.

Harry’s jaw dropped and he cried out in joy and anguish as none other than Albus Dumbledore walked into view in the portrait and he looked shiny and wet as his robes still made their familiar friendly swish. Deafening applause erupted along with shouts of welcome as Dumbledore took his seat and fresh paint dripped onto sheet below him. He looked around wearily still wearing his half moon spectacles.

Harry knew that there was already a portrait of Dumbledore in his old office, so he was at a loss to explain this seemingly newly commissioned one. Harry recognized the portrait of Armido Dippet, Hogwarts Headmaster just before Dumbledore had taken the post. Dippet stood and passed a golden quill over to Dumbledore and bowed low to him as Dumbledore took it and smiled mildly.

None of the observers of this apparent meeting said anything, but it seemed too much for Harry. His breathing was ragged as he took in the proceedings from their secret post just in the entrance way.

“Are the portraits of Severus ready in case something tragic should befall him, new Head Grand Master, Dumbledore?” came a query from the portrait sitting to the left of Dippet.

How did these portraits know Severus Snape and why did they sound concerned for his safety?

“The portraits are ready and will become enchanted into animation should something happen to our young friend,” said the portrait of Dumbledore. “We shall know something within the hour. He was to answer for failing Voldemort right now. I have never seen him so resigned to his fate.”

All attention was taken away from the meeting of the portraits by a yelp from Hermione. “Harry! You’re turning transparent...you’re disappearing!”

Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him closer to her to have a better look at him. His hand felt solid but cold.

“Harry, are you alright?” Ginny asked in alarm. Harry heard her scared voice but he had a strange sensation running through his body. He felt similar to the way he had felt when he’d fallen through the Pensieve in Dumbledore’s office, but he also felt a tug to go back to Ginny and his friends or go and become a part of the magical scene before him. He longed to talk to Dumbledore.

Within minutes the situation had deteriorated to the point where Harry would no longer respond to his friend’s pleas for his attention and even though they had dragged him away from the magical portraits, he did not improve. His body was becoming opaque and his friends were now leading him blindly down the tunnel until he would no longer walk. All of their magic had failed them and there was no way to see the bread crumbs Neville had left as a trail. Ron shouted himself hoarse calling for Neville but no one answered.

Back at the meeting of Headmasters, the shouting of students could be heard. Albus Dumbledore, still new to being a portrait, instinctively stood up to go see about the ruckus.

“Dumbledore, relax, the minors comings and goings of present students doesn’t concern you any longer as a member of past Grand Headmasters,” laughed Dippet. “I can’t tell you how many times I have tried to take points from houses over the years out of old habit. Why just thirty years ago I...”

Dumbledore cut him off mid- sentence. “Professor Dippet, I do believe that those screams are coming from the tunnels. Students are not supposed to be able to find this chamber or the tunnel that leads to it. Someone needs to see what is going on. These are my students from my time Dippet and I cannot sit here and listen to them scream.”

“Albus, you do not have a portrait in the tunnel yet. Saubourina, see what all that racket is about and when you identify the source of this disruption, go to Headmistress McGonagall’s office and inform her so she can take appropriate action.”

Sabourina went off muttering about being Headmaster over five hundred years ago and still not getting the respect he deserved.

Dippet informed Sabourina that Hogwarts had been in operation for one thousand twelve years as of January first. The very first school year had been delayed by the bickering of the four founders. He was warned to stop his bickering based on the well known outcome of the bickering that led to Slytherin removing himself from the school and leaving behind a monster.

Sabourina was not to be subdued. “In my day we would not tolerate such insolence from students breaking into places they don’t belong. They don’t belong. Let them die in the tunnels.”

Dippet rose to his full height and thundered in revulsion at Sabourina’s words. “And that is precisely why, Sabourina, that there have been so few Slytherin Headmasters in Hogwart’s one thousand twelve years of operation. If Slytherin had been more accepting and understanding, the school could have opened when the cornerstone was laid in July of that year. Now go as you were asked or face eviction from the Grand Headmaster’s council.”

Sabourina refused and disappeared into the throngs of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses to thunderous booing.

Dumbledore rose as new Grand Headmaster and ordered silence. He implored Dippet to have a look in the tunnel and assist the wayward students. Dippet had a soft spot for Dumbledore, having presided over the school when Dumbledore had been a teacher there. Dumbledore sat down heavily, and a squelching sound of wet paint came from the portrait.

In moments, Dippet was seen running through the tunnels back toward Dumbledore.

“There are children in the tunnels Dumbledore. One of them is Harry Potter. He should not be here Dumbledore. He more than the rest who are with him,” Dippet panted. “Dumbledore, this is the room of the dead. That boy has survived the Killing Curse but such is this room that it will sense the previous life sucking force that still lingers on his being which would remain dormant provided he did not come in here or into any other room of the dead. You did not tell him Dumbledore?” If Dumbledore had told Harry, Harry would have understood why the Veil Of Night's whispers lingered in his mind for so long after he'd heard them.

Dumbledore’s hands went to face. There was so much he did not tell Harry that he should have but he had no reason to believe that Harry Potter would ever see this room in life. Only previous Heads of Hogwarts could come here.

“I’m sorry Dumbledore, it may already be too late to bring him back but we must send word to Headmistress McGonagall to see if anyone here knows how to perform the re- animation ritual. It is regrettable that though I myself know it well, a portrait cannot perform it. It is a rare gift and considered Dark Magic in most circles.”

“Then go!” pleaded Dumbledore.

****************

Harry was now lying unresponsive on the cold stone floor of the tunnel. It was utterly dark and he could vaguely feel someone crying softly on his chest. It was Ginny. He wasn’t sure he was dying but he knew the light that he saw was all his own and that no one else could see it. He did have a strange desire to follow it. Hermione’s voice floated in and out of his brain imploring him to try to find something solid to focus and concentrate on, the most important thing in his life. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about so Harry tried to obey. It was after all one of his rules, ‘listen to Hermione.’

Ron had volunteered to grope his way along the corridors. He was acting like a Muggle, who even though they know the electrics are out, they still absently keep flicking the switches. Ron held his wand out in front of him for all the good it would do him, but it did save him from walking headlong into a wall.

It took Ron a half hour to find his way back to the entrance and Neville was not there, wand lit as promised. It wasn’t like Neville to let them down. Ron knew something had happened to him.

As soon as Ron saw the dim light of the dungeon corridor he began yelling that there was an injured student in the dungeon area and a missing student. But no one responded. Ron ran all the way up and down the corridors but when he got to the place where the staircase should have been, it was gone. There was no way out of the dungeon.

***************************


Back in the room of the dead as the group of friends had referred to it as, Dumbledore paced from canvas to canvas, and then his second worst fear was realized, but in a much different way than he had ever imagined. The ghost of Severus Snape floated into view.

“Severus...He did it then...but then why did you not just become a portrait as the honour was afforded you?” Dumbledore asked the Potions Master sadly.

“Albus, you know I would be no good as a portrait. I was never as powerful as you. I fear that I would have been canvas bound and would not have even been able to walk the corridors from portrait to portrait deducting points. I will do Potter and the Order more good as a ghost.” Snape said. “I can do something tangible still and I may yet be able to save young Malfoy. I have found that even in death, the Dark Mark lingers and may be Voldemort’s downfall for it affords me knowledge of the times in which he summons his supporters. I cannot believe he was so powerful to have made such an evil curse scar that will burn even into death.”

“I am sorry Severus that I asked of you such an arduous task to kill me, but it had to be done. I have spoken to Minerva and there are documents in my old desk releasing you of the responsibility for that act. Once things settle down, if you wish, you may have your old job back, or as reward for all you have done for the school and myself, you may even become Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher.”

“Albus, have you failed to realize that I am...” Snape said

“Dead? It never stopped Professor Binns’” Dumbledore told him and even in the portrait, the twinkle of his eyes shone through.” Albus Dumbledore now looked relieved to see the old Potions Professor even in such a capacity.

There was a round of applause when it was learned that before his death, Snape had killed Lucius Malfoy just as he had raised an axe over his son’s head and Snape felt that this put a halt to the proceedings at least temporarily. Dumbledore had not wanted Draco to be the one to taint his soul by obeying Voldemort and killing his Headmaster, so in an oath now fulfilled, Snape had done it.

Professor Dippet wondered aloud why Dumbledore now seemed so calm about Harry’s predicament.

Professor Dumbledore turned to Snape and said, “There is one very good reason why I am happy you chose the way of the ghost, Severus. I believe you know the Protegio Accio Soul Charm?”

“Yes, but it so rare, why do you ask? That particular charm is only used for people who have had near death experiences and enter a room of the dead. Or, the researchers at the Ministry use it mostly, when they are researching the Veil Of Night and they have a mishap. What has happened? It’s Potter isn’t it?” Snape asked, sounding like his old self again. “He’s found the tunnels hasn’t he?”

“Yes Severus, I should have known. He has twenty minutes left. Could you go and sort him out please?” Dumbledore sounded casual now, like it was no big deal that Harry’s body had almost become transparent and he no longer had any warmth in his body. Even the rise and fall of his chest had become shallow.

“I should let it go to the last minute to teach the little brat a lesson not to go poking around in places he doesn’t belong,” Snape complained as he floated along the tunnel, illuminating every nook and cranny just with his ghostly body.

**************

Hermione looked up and screamed, holding her useless wand against the ghost of Severus Snape. She called out curse after curse as Snape insulted her for her lack of knowledge of paths of the dead.

So protective of Harry was Ginny that she sprang up to attack Snape physically, throwing her wand away in frustration. Luna stood there as though surveying the scene for an article she would later write for her father's paper.

“Are you quite finished?” Snape asked as if he were ordering Hermione to stop being such an insufferable know-it-all and put her hand down in one of his classes. When the two girls had finished screaming themselves hoarse at the sight of the ghost of the man who had killed their beloved Headmaster, Snape stood over Harry and took a commanding tone. He uttered words that Hermione vaguely recalled from a book she had read, ‘Paths of the Dead.’ The author had been a former Unspeakable at the Ministry Of Magic who had gotten himself killed as it was popularly believed for revealing Ministry secrets. According to the book, one who had experienced near-death, should not work as an Unspeakable or go near a room or death, which was a subject of malcontent between those who believed such places existed and those who did not. But Hermione recalled that as many Unspeakables died on the job as did tomb researchers in Egypt. The statistic was just never stated publicly until that book had come out.

******************

Harry thought he could hear a voice commanding him, telling him that he had no business here. Harry saw a veil before his eyes, fluttering in a breeze that he could not feel. He did not respond to the voice calling him but ignored it, though it sounded vaguely familiar. When he figured out to whom the voice belonged, he cried out so forcefully that Ginny, and Hermione cupped their hands to their ears, giving Snape a satisfied smirk on his face. Luna stood as though the screaming hadn't so much as penetrated her musing.

All the while Hermione and Ginny were trying to drag Harry away from Snape but he just glided along behind them and his words became more than a whisper to them now. Why was Snape trying to save Harry Potter when he had committed the most atrocious act Hogwarts had seen in its one thousand and twelve year old history?

Snape was getting impatient and he ordered the girls to stop dragging Harry in such a commanding voice that they obeyed.

“I cannot perform this charm now that I am a ghost and with Potter’s stubborness, he probably senses that I am dead. From the place his soul now inhabits he can feel the sting of death and the of joy of life. It is something everyone who dies feels, believe me when I tell you this Miss Granger!” Snape thundered as Hermione was about to interrupt to say that the book did not agree with that theory. Snape went on. “Do you remember Potter’s ridiculous ranting that if he found me, if I was already dead, he’d kill himself and come after me? Very droll and I’m sure Potter was merely venting, but as he is now in the predicament he finds himself in between life and death, and having dwelled so much on the possibility of his meeting an untimely death very soon, I’m afraid he’s taken the path to the veil. I’m afraid he is going to be gone very soon unless...”

“Unless what?” Ginny sobbed.

“You think I am such a loathsome, evil below beast status being don’t you? Don’t you!” Snape spat, though no actual spittle issued from his twisted mouth.

Hermione and Ginny sat beside Harry, petrified and pleading with him in vain to do something. The whole time Luna stood there, her lips moving as though she were silently reading to herself.

“Miss Granger, you will remember chapter two of the book , ‘Sacrifice Redemption?’ Snape asked quietly, almost like he’d hope she wouldn’t remember. But this was Hermione Granger.

“So, Sir, you haven’t used your corporeal beings to set your affairs in order then yet?” Hermione asked, with a new found hope.

“Who, other the Dark Lord would I have unfinished business with?” Snape ask, with venom in his voice.

“I will need to enter the body of whichever one of you Harry will most respond to. It will be uncomfortable. I will then take a part of your essence and bring it to Harry to see if he will look toward the light again and from there we can bring him home....back.” Hermione and Ginny now knew why Snape’s ghost had come back to Hogwarts. It was as much of a home to him as it had always been to Harry and there was a moment of sympathy that passed from Ginny and Hermione that Snape found annoying. It had been a slip of the tongue so to speak.

“It’s you Ginny, you know it is,” said Hermione simply. “There’s only ten minutes left until this is irreversible.

Ginny was told to sit down and as Snape touched her shoulder, she felt herself go limp. Hermione caught her as she watched her own body below. Snape took her hand and both ghost and girl closed their eyes.
*******************

Now Harry could hear a different voice. “No, she can’t be here. She has to go back.”

Harry wondered where Snape’s voice had gone and he saw in his mind the image of Ginny and Snape standing before him. Harry did the same thing as Ginny and Hermione had done and lunged at Snape, sailing right through him.

Harry wondered what kind of sick joke death was when Ginny pleaded with him to come back whilst standing there with the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore. There was brief second where he hated her.

“Harry there isn’t much time. You have to come with us now. I’ll explain later,” Ginny coaxed. Harry wasn’t going to fall for this. He figured that Voldemort had finally figured out his weakness and was using an image of Ginny to make him do what he wanted, go where he shouldn’t.

Harry now wondered how one becomes a ghost. He could at least make Snape’s ghost afterlife miserable. Then he noticed that Ginny was crying.

“Ginny, don’t cry...” Harry was not good with crying girls. He remember Cho...he remembered Cedric and then it suddenly dawned on him that none of his dead relatives or friends were here. He was alone save for Snape and Ginny. His mind faltered at hearing her pain- filled pleas for him to just have faith in her and come back with them.

Finally, the image of Ginny Weasley stopped crying and she put her hands on her hips in an exact imitation of her mother. No one else could have done that, so now Harry had another fear to face. Ginny must be dead too...

“I’m not dead, Harry, but you will be if you don’t come back with us right now. Professor Snape had a reason for what he did and Hermione, Ron and I believe him.” Ginny told him. Now Harry had to hear this. He followed them at a distance until they stepped through a shimmering light. He was afraid.

Ginny rejoined her body and immediately knelt over Harry. “Come back Harry please!” Harry’s chest rose sharply and he choked on the dusty air that filled his lungs. He looked around. He was really back. Ginny had saved him. Before he could even open his mouth, she cut him off as Hermione soaked his shirt with tears.

“Listen to me Harry,” Ginny said in a voice that demanded he obey. “I have just entered the paths of the dead for you because my voice was the only one you’d listen to, and you’re going to listen to me and then I’ll be done. If you don’t want me because you’re afraid I will get killed, well, technically we’ve already been there and done that,” she looked at Snape for support here, He nodded his head in partial agreement. That wasn’t exactly what had taken place but if someone could make Potter shut up, it would be worth it.

“And If you don’t want me because you’re afraid I’ll be hurt if you die, well we’ve had a trial run for that too, and look how well that turned out...anyway...” she continued awkwardly, if you don’t want me for any other reason than those two that I’ve just given you, then there’s nothing I can do, but if it is for those reasons...” Ginny’s voice trailed off as Harry cupped his hand gently behind her head and drew her down and kissed her deeply.

“Alright then,” Ginny said, very business-like as she swept some stray tears from her eyes and Harry got slowly to his feet. Who could argue with that?

Harry wanted to light into Snape when he heard a loud voice from coming from the down the hall where they had been an hour ago.

“Harry, I’m afraid you cannot come in here but please visit me in my portrait in my old office this evening at eight o’clock and we will speak. And bring your friends...and your girlfriend. I should very much like to see you again and all will be revealed about the man you now you now hold in your heart as your enemy.
*************

Harry felt very weak and Ginny and Hermione were very anxious to get him out of there, so with their unlikely guide and savior, they made their way back to the exit. Hermione had to break Luna out of an almost trance-like state and when Luna's eyes focused, she said, "See you later mother," and returned to her usual silly musings.

Once back outside and in the dungeon corridors, Harry, Hermione, Luna and Ginny saw Neville standing, wand lit as agreed upon, still peering into an entrance of the secret tunnels. Neville jumped in startled horror at the sight of his three friends with Snape floating along behind him. This was worse then Boggart Snape for sure and Neville looked sick. He didn’t look much better after explanations were made to fill him in and he was told that he’d been given up for missing.

*****************

Ron pushed a door that creaked open on its heavy rusted hinges, figuring that it would be locked like all the rest he had tried. The site that greeted him was most unwelcome. Mrs Norris, Filch’s cat, stood before the Mirror Of Erised, and Filtch stood behind the cat, talking to it apparently, though he looked straight into the glass. Ron stood silent and listened as he stifled a gasp of fear that Filch would catch him and punish him for being here. He and Harry had been told not to seek out the mirror again.

“My love,” said Filch looking right to a point in the glass that was almost his height. “One day, someone will find the counter curse to bring you back to me. To bring you back to me so we can sit in the garden holding hands like we used to when we were young...” Filch said wistfully as Mrs Norris wound her way around his legs. “I only wish I had a portable mirror to carry around so I could see you every waking moment as I remember you.”

Ron thought he was going to be sick. Mrs Norris was a woman! A cursed woman. Ron thought it better to be a cat then to hold hands with old Filch, but when he Filch wipe a tear from his old wrinkled face, he changed his mind. He felt sorry for the git. Ron hid behind a pillar as Filch picked up...his wife? His girlfriend? Ron followed Filch past several other doorways until he saw him pick one. So distraught was Filtch that he didn’t notice Ron catch the door that he was leaving through. They were now in a section of the Dungeon that Ron recognized and when he could no longer be traced to having been in the room with Filch and Mrs Norris, Ron sprinted to get help for Harry.

Ron looked down the hall to see a sight that both made him relieved and horrified. Harry was alright as was his sister and Hermione, but they were being followed by the ghost of Snape.

“What the bloody hell!” Ron yelled as Ginny smiled at him. Neville stepped out from behind them.

“But, you’re supposed to be missing...” Ron babbled as he took in the story of Harry’s rescue, Snape’s heroics and sacrifice and how Ginny and Harry were back together again for better or worse.

“It was you who was missing Ron. Neville was exactly where he said he would be,” Hermione informed him.

“You guys have got to hear this,” Ron said smugly as he recounted Mr Filch’s tale. Hermione thought it was sad as they followed at a distance once again, the caretaker and his love. Mr Filch pushed back a heavy stone and a night time breeze blew into the dungeon, as well as some flakes of snow. The friends couldn’t resist, despite Snape’s protests that they were supposed to go back to their own common room. They followed the old caretaker through the stone door.

Mouths agape, they watched as Snape brushed snow from very ancient grave markers, one of which belonged to one of the founders of the school. He moved on to one with the name Arnold Filch, next to one that had the name Doris Filch on it. There were countless graves here. ‘Hogwarts A History’ was wrong about there only being one grave on the grounds of Hogwarts, and it was wrong about the enchanted ceiling. Hermione was not happy at all.

**************

That evening as planned, the friends got permission from Professor McGonagall to go to her office to visit Dumbledore’s portrait.

Harry had a sentimental gift to give Dumbledore that he was reminded of upon hearing of Ron’s misadventure with the mirror of Erised. In his hand he held a small can of black oil paint. Harry wasn’t much of an artist and everyone gasped as he stepped up to the painting waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. Harry used a small paint brush and painted a small pair of black socks just on the chair that sat empty waiting for its subject to return.

Dumbledore stepped into his portrait and if portraits could cry, Harry thought he might.

“Merry Christmas, Sir,” Harry said, with a lump in his throat as Dumbledore put the wet socks on his feet. The charm that Flitwick had placed on the paint had worked. There was much to talk about, but it would be comfortable. It was Christmas.

Ron asked for a moment alone with Dumbledore as everyone made their way, yawning down the spiral staircase. He entered the boy’s dorms about an hour later.

“Where were you?” asked Harry sleepily and as Ron looked at him, he noticed that Harry had his sister’s shade of pink lipstick on his cheek, but he said nothing. Ron was very pleased with himself over something.

************

Back in his office after a hard day’s work, Filch gathered his nightshirt. A small package clattered to the floor. Filch opened the package, expecting there to be the usual inside, dungbombs, ton tongue toffees or some other venomous revenge the students delighted in sending to him. Instead, a mirror in an ornate frame glistened from the paper wrapping when he untied the string. Almost not daring to believe it to be possible, Filch knelt down and held the mirror up to Mrs Norris...

Merry Christmas Mr Filch.

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