Snape's Christmas Carol

Preface

Severus Snape was a cold man. He was nasty, suspicious, rude, and sarcastic. Hard and sharp as dragon's scales. Secret and solitary as a boggart. No warmth could warm him, for he was as bitter as a chill wind. No feelings could move him. He was a bad man to cross. Yet people continued to make that mistake.

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Snape threw open the door, and Harry found himself gazing at shelf after shelf of bottles, boxes, aquariums, baskets, containers of all sorts. Each one was labeled in Snape's neat crabbed handwriting. He swallowed hard. What had he gotten himself into?

"Since you're so interested in the contents of my storeroom, Mr. Potter, I shall put you to work. You know what they say about idle hands."

Harry looked up into Snape's sneering face. "But...it's Christmas Eve, Professor."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is it? That didn't seem to concern you a short time ago, when I found you with your hand in my store of ribbonworms."

Harry looked down at the floor.

Snape smirked. "Perhaps you'd prefer we took a trip to the Headmaster's office? Last I knew stealing was against the rules. In fact, I've always believed it to be a crime, Mr. Potter. Tsk, tsk. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised...what with having a criminal like Sirius Black for a role model. Criminal behavior seems to be second nature to you."

Harry balled his fists and turned defiant eyes back up to Snape. However, when his eyes met Snape's and noted their gleam of anticipation, good sense reasserted itself. Harry swallowed his anger and looked down.

Snape raised an eyebrow and sneered. "Well, well, self-control. Perhaps there's hope for you yet, Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed. Like Snape should talk about self-control! It hadn't been Harry, after all, who'd been apoplectic with rage, spitting all over Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack.

Snape continued, "Well, Mr. Potter, what shall it be? Do we go find the Headmaster and disturb his evening as you've disturbed mine?"

Harry looked at Snape a trifle sullenly. "No, Professor Snape. What do you want me to do?"

Snape nodded with satisfaction, a small triumphant smile flirted with his lips. "That's better. The contents of my storeroom have been disarranged after a semester of work. I need an accurate accounting of what it contains. Therefore, I would like you to do a complete inventory of its contents."

Harry's jaw dropped. "That'll take all night! And probably all tomorrow, too!"

Snape smirked smugly at him. "Then you'd better get started." He snapped his fingers, and a ledger appeared in his hand. With the quirk of a knowing eyebrow, he handed this to Harry, who took it with ill grace.

"Is there anything else you wish to add, Mr. Potter?"

Harry considered all the choice comments he'd like to add and reluctantly settled for saying. "No, sir."

Snape nodded. "Very good. Please begin at once. Be sure that your handwriting remains legible, Mr. Potter. I'd hate for you to have to do this more than once."

With a look of pure hatred, Harry took the ledger and walked into the storeroom to begin his endless task.

Snape listened to Harry begin to move things around in his storeroom and smiled to himself. Oh, yes, Christmas had come early for Severus Snape this year! He returned to his desk and the end of term papers that he'd been grading.

The Potions Master nodded in satisfaction. Mr. Harry "I'm so full of myself" Potter needed to be taken down a peg or two, and he was just the one to do it! Potter's swelled head needed to be deflated for his own good. The darling of the wizarding world needed to learn a little discipline, a little humility, a little caution. If he didn't...it was all over but the mourning. A dead hero is of no use to anyone, after all. Why can't these Gryffindors understand this? Oh, well, he'd always suspected that brainpower was sadly lacking in that house...with one notable exception, of course.

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After a couple of hours, as Snape was beginning to feel total frustration over the abysmal contents of the papers he was grading. "My god! Don't these students ever listen in class?" Dumbledore opened Snape's classroom door and came in.

Snape sighed. "Here for you yearly pep talk, Albus?"

Dumbledore smiled fondly at Snape. "It does seem to be the only way to get you to show up for Christmas dinner, Severus."

Snape shook his head and looked at him in disgust. "Christmas is a waste of my valuable time, Albus! Whoever decided to make it a holiday should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!"

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Snape. "Christmas is a time of kindness and good fellowship, Severus. Your valuable time would be better spent getting to know your fellow staff members and enjoying a break from your labors as we break bread together."

Snape grimaced. "I always come for the food."

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps, but you never stay for the socializing. You need some warmth and happiness in your life, Severus."

A snort was heard coming from the storeroom.

Dumbledore glanced at the door in surprise. "Is someone in there, Severus?"

Snape looked as if he'd bitten into something unpleasant. "Yes, Headmaster. A student is doing a task for me."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "On Christmas Eve?"

Snape looked him in the eye. "You've always said, Albus, that you trust your staff to discipline their students for their infractions in an appropriate manner. I assure you that this student merited his punishment."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Severus. Will I see you tomorrow?"

Snape nodded stiffly. "I will attend dinner...do not anticipate a lengthy stay."

Dumbledore sighed again and regarded Snape sadly. "You're always welcome, Severus, however long you choose to stay." With that he patted Snape on the shoulder and quietly left the room.

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A couple of hours later still, Snape closed his grade book with a snap. Well, that task was done. Time to check on Mr. Potter. Plastering a sneer onto his face, he rose from his desk and approached the storeroom. When he opened the door he found Harry sitting on the floor counting Moke scales and shivering madly. His lips were quite blue.

"How is it going, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked up and frowned. "You made me lose count!" he stammered through stiff lips.

Snape had to restrain a laugh at Harry's righteous indignation, tempered by the fact that he looked like a human popsicle. "Temper, temper, Mr. Potter."

Harry swallowed hard at the nasty gleam in Snape's eye. "I'm about halfway through, Professor."

Snape gave a satisfied nod. "Very well. You may return to your dormitory for the night. Be here tomorrow at eight a.m. to continue this. If you're diligent, you can probably finish in time for Christmas dinner."

Knowing it was less than useless to argue, Harry nodded and dumped the Moke scales back into their container. He could begin with them tomorrow. He closed the ledger and climbed stiffly to his feet. Slowly he walked out of the storeroom and left the ledger on Snape's desk. As he was almost to the door, Snape's voice halted him momentarily. "Good night, Mr. Potter. Please, do not keep me waiting in the morning."

The boy turned and looked at Snape standing stiffly by the storeroom door. "Good night, Professor Snape." Then he turned and fled from this icebox of a dungeon.