~ by Severitus
Severus Snape hated Christmas. He hated the sound of people laughing and singing, he hated the decorated trees and the red and green everywhere, he hated the smell of baking Christmas treats, and above all he hated everything being so bloody jolly. No matter where he went in the castle, his senses where assaulted by the holiday. Every room, hall, and stairwell had been decked to the fullest extent, leaving no corner untouched. Severus, however, had threatened the life of anyone or anything that dared to try and decorate his rooms or office, and therefore they alone remained untouched. He would have done the same about dressing up for the holiday feast, but Albus had been insistent on the matter (he magically stuck the hat on Severus’ head), and he’d therefore ended up doing it, anyway.
Trying his best to ignore the carols that were being played loudly in a nearby room, he continued on his way back to his dungeon. There he could simply sit back, relax, and flip through one of the books he’d been meaning to read for a while now. He desperately hoped there wouldn’t be anyone in the halls, for this time of year even people who typically ran in fear offered a shaky “Merry Christmas”, before he sent them running with a glare much nastier than usual.
“Hello, Severus!” a very merry voice called from just behind him. He stopped abruptly, groaning in annoyance. It had to be her, didn’t it? Of all the people to run into in the hallway, it had to be someone who was in just as much of a Christmas spirit as Dumbledore… Minerva McGonagall.
“Evening, Minerva,” he said flatly, turning to face her. She’d just emerged from the room in which the carols were still being blasted quite loudly.
“Would you care to join us, Severus? We’re having a sort of faculty Christmas party,” she said, smiling brightly beneath the green Santa hat that was perched on her head. She lifted a hand up and adjusted her glasses, either blatantly ignoring the obvious look of annoyance she was receiving, or simply too preoccupied to notice.
“No thank you, Minerva. I’d rather not,” he said, then started to turn away.
“Oh, come on, Severus! You never join in the festivities. Don’t you have any Christmas spirit?” she said, placing her hands on her hips and watching him stubbornly.
“Bah Humbug,” he replied coldly.
She shook her head, but a mischievous smile curled up one corner of her mouth.
Snape narrowed his eyes, turning his head to give her a sideways glance. “What are you plotting, Minerva? I can assure you that there is no possible way you will ever get me to go to that party,” he said, allowing just a tinge of anger to color his voice.
She laughed lightly, turning back toward the door. “Oh, I know that, Severus,” she said, still smiling.
“Then why on earth are you smiling as if you know something I don’t?” he growled, arms crossed angrily.
“You’ll find out,” she said. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge,” she finished, then slipped back through the door to the continuing party.
Snape growled deep in his throat and whirled around, stalking down the rest of the hallway. He should have known someone would try something… every year they complained about his lack of participation, and every year he blew them off, the same as always. It was only a matter of time ’til they decided to take the matter more seriously. Some sort of prank or attempt at spreading the Christmas ‘cheer’ was definitely in the near future, and he only hoped that it wouldn’t be too particularly jolly.
***
Everything had gone perfectly. The Christmas feast had come and gone without incident, and Harry had been able to get away early without causing a stir. Slipping the present into Snape’s chambers had been much easier than he had expected; he had to remember to thank McGonagall for stalling Snape when he got a chance. He’d gotten her a gift too, as thanks for helping him out. It wasn’t much, just a boxed assortment of flavored teas and treats that he thought she’d like. Thanks to her and his trusty invisibility cloak, his mission of Christmas cheer had been accomplished without so much as the slightest hitch. Harry had to wonder, though, if he was in for a load of trouble later. He hadn’t really allowed himself to predict Snape’s reaction to the gift, because it would in all likelihood be extremely unpleasant, even if Snape did like the gift. But now that it was signed, sealed, and delivered, Harry allowed himself to ponder his fears. Now that he thought about it, Snape would probably kill him.
Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, the invisibility cloak still hanging lopsided from one shoulder. He still had more gifts to deliver — a carved wooden dragon for Hagrid and a large box of Lemon Drops for Dumbledore. Aside from that, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the rest of his Christmas Eve. Everyone else from his dorm had gone home for the holidays, and Harry was feeling particularly lonely. He wished he could visit Hagrid, but his friend was at the faculty party that was still underway in the transfiguration classroom. Perhaps some hot chocolate? It sounded like a fairly good idea. He’d drop off the gifts and then go down to the Great Hall, which now had a giant fireplace and several armchairs at its head, and have himself a large cup of cocoa by the fire. It would be lonely, but it would still be a pleasant ending to his Christmas Eve—as long as Snape didn’t decide to murder him, afterwards.
***
At least one potion bottle shattered as a result of Severus Snape’s rather violent return to his rooms. Last Christmas Eve he’d lost his entire supply of wolf’s bane extract when the bottles had shattered after he slammed the door shut, and this year he’d been only slightly more careful. For the time being, he ignored the broken remains of the bottle (empty, thankfully) and threw his outer cloak over the back of a nearby chair. One quick glance around the front room proved that, thankfully, no one had attempted to decorate in his absence. Continuing through his usual routine, he flicked his wand toward the fireplace and lit the waiting log, magically adjusting the flame to just the right size. Then he continued on toward the bookshelves near the entrance to his bedroom, and ran a fingertip casually over the many age-worn titles. However, before he found the particular novel he was searching for, he saw something out of the corner of his eye that caused him to instantly freeze in place. Christmas colors. Something red and green not quite visible from around the corner of his bed. In an instant his raised hand curled into a fist, and his lips curved into a vicious snarl. Someone had been in his rooms, attempting to sway him into the spirit of the season. Indeed. When he found out who was responsible… well, they’d just better hope that he didn’t find them out.
Stalking slowly into the room, he approached the end of the bed with all the caution of a hunter tracking some ferocious beast. It could be a prank, he thought, rounding the corner cautiously and peering down toward the object in question. What he saw further strengthened his assumption; it was a large box, wrapped in green paper with a bright red bow on top. There was no visible tag on the outside, but Severus was certain that had been on purpose. Who, after all, would be brainless enough to give him a gift and then sign their name? No one was that stupid.
He circled the object slowly, studying it from every angle. Everything on the outside seemed perfectly normal, no mysterious strings or latches visible anywhere. It didn’t give off any mysterious scents or sounds, and he couldn’t sense any spells anywhere nearby… but surely there was some sort of trick. There was only one way to find out, he supposed; he had to open the box. Growling darkly at the inconvenience of having to waste his night messing around with someone’s bloody idea of a joke, he knelt near the box and wedged the tip of his wand under the edge of the lid. He lifted it slowly, half-expecting it to explode with confetti or burst into holiday song.
Nothing happened. The lid was now lying safely on the floor, and from his perspective the box appeared to be completely empty. So… it was a prank then, someone’s idea of a cruel joke. After all, he hadn’t received a gift in what… more than twenty years?
A deep ‘harrumph’ sounded from the back of his throat and he leaned forward, fully intent on taking the box and chucking it in the trash can. But then he heard something, like a soft rustling of cloth. Severus paused, leaning toward the box with one hand slightly outstretched. Edging forward ever so slowly, he caught a brief glimpse of something dark, and before he could comprehend what was happening, the box tipped over, and something shot towards him like a dark lightning bolt and struck him squarely in the solar plexus. The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back with something warm sitting right in the middle of his chest, vibrating slightly. Slowly, he lifted his head from the floor, opened his eyes, and immediately yelped in surprise.
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