Fellowship & Fairydust

To Severus and Harry, it felt like only seconds before an enormous amount of food and drink appeared in the room, accompanied by a giant of a man in green robes. His curly brown hair and cheerful disposition did not hide the lines of worry on his face when they looked closer.

“Come, have a drink and some sustenance,” the Spirit beckoned them. “It will be a while before my hauntee wakes up.”

Harry turned to Smoky. “I thought no one would be able to see….”

“Of course, the Spirits can see you, although they generally will ignore you.” The female ghost cast what was probably a reproachful glare towards the Spirit of Christmas Present. “The others cannot.”

“Well, come along, take a bite,” the green-clad Spirit motioned. “If you have to be up to tag along with us all night, you will need some food.”

Harry shrugged and picked up a pie. It tasted delicious. “Thank you.” He smiled hesitantly at the genial Ghost, who gave him a bright smile in return.

“Ah, Harry. The one whose present is quite good. I always enjoy that. And what a nice Christmas celebration you gave him, Severus. It was truly remarkable, the lengths you went to so that your son might have the Christmas he so longed for. Well done, indeed.”

“You certainly are talkative for a Spirit who is supposed to be wise and all-knowing, aren’t you?” The effectiveness of Snape’s retaliation was much reduced by the blush that crept up his cheeks at the Ghost’s praise.

The giant merely laughed, and blew a kiss at Smoky. “A merry bunch of observers you brought us, sister.”

“Oh, get on with it,” the Ghost said, losing her patience, “there’s haunting to be done, and you haven’t got all night, you know. Yet to Come is already awaiting his turn.”

“Fair enough.” The Spirit grinned and threw a large goblet at the bedroom door. The loud ‘clang’ brought, within seconds, a sleep-rumpled and white-faced Dumbledore to the room.

“Come in!” Christmas Present beckoned jovially, holding up a goblet of wine. “Come in and know me better, man!”

“Dear Merlin, not another one,” Dumbledore groaned. “You’ll be the death of me, yet.”

“Ah, time will do that job eventually. Even in your many years, you’ve not seen the like of me, have you?”

“No, and I wish the pleasure had been indefinitely postponed,” Dumbledore grumbled in a most Snape-like manner.

“Now don’t be like that,” the Spirit admonished. “We will have an enlightening night, I am certain.”

Dumbledore looked around his office. “Where did all this food come from? Have the kitchen-elves gone berserk again?”

“From the heart, old man. It is the food of generosity, which you have long denied your fellow man.”

“I have not,” the Headmaster protested, “I have always celebrated Christmas with plenty of good cheer.”

“Aye, Christmas,” the Spirit sighed. “But the rest of the year? Here, let me show you.”

To the surprise of Harry and Severus, they suddenly stood in their own living room, watching themselves unwrapping gifts. The old Headmaster watched the scene fondly.

“You enjoy this?” The Spirit kept a close eye on Dumbledore.

“Of course, I do. They are dear to me,” Albus responded. “Whatever one can say of the past, they have had their happily ever after.”

“Yes, but no thanks to you. This is Harry’s first proper Christmas. Come to think of it, Severus’s too. How many happy years might they have had if your decisions had been different? Had you not interfered where you had no business interfering? What was your generosity to them, besides to take what was not yours?”

“I had to run the entire Wizarding World! It was for the Greater Good. None of them seem to realize! What generosity do they allow me? I am mortal and have made mistakes, as have all of them. Yet they give me no generosity!”

The Spirit spoke to him sternly, as he still watched the careful, almost ritual unwrapping of presents. “You’ve never given them a reason to, and yet there are some.” He motioned to the two dark-haired men on the couch. “Some who still find enough warmth in their hearts, even for the likes of you.”

The scene changed, and another family sat beside a fire. A woman and three children.

“Their father died during the Second Uprising.”

Another family. Then another. And another.

“They lost two of their young children in a Death Eater attack, just before his first defeat. Then their eldest son during the second uprising.

“They did not lose anyone, but the mother was permanently injured. She is home for the holidays, but is a long-term resident at St Mungo’s.

“This family’s brother was found to be a Death Eater. Now they are shunned by society as a whole. The children hardly dare to go to school for the torment they face because of their Uncle’s crimes.

“For many years, you sat back and did nothing. Used a prophecy as an excuse. You placed that infant on the doorstep and waited for him to grow up a little and face that evil. Let me show you.”

Wave after wave of images, showing a less declined world – not less death, but a strong people who stood up for themselves and would not allow anyone to harm their loved ones again.

“What would you have me do?” Dumbledore asked. “There is no going back, and the battle is done. Whatever mistakes I made; I cannot undo them.”

“But you can atone for them. Did you not tell Severus that? I won’t deny that you are old, but that does not excuse you. There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Albus, time is short, and suddenly you’re not here anymore.”

During the long journey from house to house, the Spirit had aged considerably. Brown curls had turned grey, and cheerful, full cheeks sagged. “That is what I meant by the rest of the year, Dumbledore. It is what I told Ebenezer Scrooge so long ago. We Spirits of Christmas do not live only one day of our year. We live the whole three hundred and sixty-five. So is it true of the Child born in Bethlehem. He does not live in men’s hearts one day of the year, but in all days of the year. Indeed, you kept a genial spirit and celebrated holidays with much cheer. Yet that means nothing, nothing at all, when outside of those occasions your decisions border on cruel and your behaviour negligent.

“Your world may be at peace and content now, but that is merely a thin veneer. The real problem has not been eliminated – it only increased.” The Spirit opened his robe to show two ill-looking, starving children. It might have been a boy and girl, but it was impossible to see through the dirt.

“The girl is Ignorance, the boy Apathy. Beware the boy especially! His is the power to bring down nations, and doom its citizens to early graves. He nearly destroyed yours – and will try again if you do not fight him.

“All may seem well now, Dumbledore.” The Spirit cloaked the children again and began to fade. “But underneath, oh, underneath….”

***

Harry turned around, heaving.

“Harry?” Severus turned to support him. “Are you alright?”

“No… so many dead… those children… scorned for something they cannot help… I’ve failed.”

Severus shook his head. “You did not. You lived up to ridiculously unfair expectations and even survived. Take care that you do not start believing that the Wizarding World is your responsibility alone, or you will end up like Albus.”

Their guide nodded. “Your father speaks truth,” she said, and easily returned them to the Headmaster’s rooms.

“I can do something for those kids, though,” Harry mused. “If the family is not opposed to it, I could offer to visit them – and make sure it is known. My visiting them may relieve some pressure on them. And those families without fathers, or mothers…”

“Funds have been raised for them,” Severus informed him. “You yourself donated on various occasions. Harry, did you not hear the Spirit’s warning? Apathy is the greatest enemy. By taking all the work out of the Wizarding World’s hands now, you only encourage their apathy. You did your part – let the others do theirs. It is laudable that you wish to visit the relatives of that Death Eater to make their lives easier, but that is as far as your responsibility extends.”

With a short nod, but not looking any less shocked, Harry sat down on the couch. Severus did not expect that Harry would take his words to heart yet – it would take a little time to digest. The way Harry had been raised ensured that the young man always took on much more responsibility than he ought to, and to be fair, much of it was thrust upon him without his consent. Another reason why it would be good to let the wizards and witches do their own rebuilding this time.

“You have a little while yet,” Smoky said, “rest. The third of the spirits will arrive soon enough.”

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