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Christmas Drabble - Snape Style
This was inspired by a drabble challenge last night. True to form, I turned a drabble into a ficlet, and highly appropriate for the season. It seemed worthy of being shared, so I'm sharing it in its own post.
The challenge was from seneska_bicku, and she wanted me to write a fic in which Snape gets into a confrontation with Santa Claus. I set it for the Christmas of Harry's 6th year. Here's the result:
T'was the night before Christmas, and all through Snape's house, not a Kreacher was stirring, not even a –
"FUCK." Snape stared at the test potion in his size 1 silver cauldron, cursed again under his breath, and banished the mixture with a flick of his wand. He grumbled for a moment, then flipped to the next potion he needed to try. He had such limited time.
Spinner's End at Christmas was… the same as it was any other time of year. Down the road, in the more populated parts of town, there were houses decorated with strands of cheap lights, models of reindeer, and hideously tacky plastic snowmen. Truth be told, Severus was grateful that he'd never had such indignity inflicted upon him. As a child – a very young child – he might have argued that point, but in his mature years, he was pleased that he'd never learnt to waste his time on such pointless (and embarrassing) distractions.
With the students gone for the holiday, it gave Severus time to catch up on some of his research for Dumbledore. There was no way that Severus would allow Dumbledore's asinine plan to proceed… not if there was anything he could do about it. He was storming through every text and tome he had on the subject of restorative potions, regenerative salves, and anything that had a remote change of reviving Dumbledore's deadened hand and preventing the curse from eventually taking the life of the old Headmaster. Nothing seemed likely, but he wasn't about to surrender just yet.
It was late, and he usually liked to work in the dead quiet of the night. It meant he could focus in the absolute silence. However, that didn't seem to be happening tonight, as some stupid kids were probably causing holiday mischief nearby. He could hear the incessant ringing of sleighbells. Cursing to himself about jingle bells being an evil somewhere between Horcruxes and third-year Gryffindors, Severus went to the window and looked out.
The moon on the crest of the new fallen snow gave the luster of mid-day to the sad old dead end road. In the distant sky, some group of careless wizards on brooms who had nothing better to do on the holiday were recklessly flying in plain sight of any Muggle who happened to be awake. The irritating sound of bells was even louder. Severus slammed the window shut, went back to his table, and grabbed his wand to cast a Silencing Charm on the windows and doors. The sound was instantly muffled to near-silence, and Severus bent back over his book.
And then in a twinkling, he heard on the roof a thunderous crash that shook the rafters like an entire Quidditch team coming in for a landing directly above his head.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SHRIVELLED – what the fuck was that?"
A large man had just fallen out of his fireplace with a clumsy bounce. He had a beard and glasses like Dumbledore, and a girth like Slughorn. He was wearing the most ridiculous red pajamas. He had a broad face, and a little round belly…
"What the hell are you doing in my house? The Floo has been disconnected. It should be impossible for you to get in here. Who are you?"
"Ho ho ho! All the questions, so many questions!" he said with a jolly laugh.
"Indeed, there are questions," Severus said… severely, "and I'm asking them. What are you doing in my house?"
"Well, it's Christmas Eve," the man said happily, as if that answered everything.
Severus shook his head in dismay. This old bloke was an absolute nutter. He turned away from the old codger to find his jar of Fire Call powder. "I'm calling the Aurors, on the charge of breaking and entering, if you don't leave my house immediately. I have far too much work to do to continue with this –"
"Severus," the man interrupted.
Severus had started to lift the jar from the shelf, but the tone of voice – which sounded far too much like Dumbledore for his comfort – stopped him. His hand lowered the jar to the shelf again, while his eyes were glued to the stranger's eyes, which twinkled behind his spectacles. He had dimples – so merry – in cheeks red as roses, divided by a nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was –
"Did Dumbledore send you?" Severus asked cautiously.
"Not directly, my dear boy, but Albus and I are old friends. I believe he's the oldest man alive – wizard or Muggle – who still writes me a letter every year."
"You work with Muggles?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "But you are a wizard, are you not?"
"Ho ho ho!" he laughed. "I have… special privileges."
"Half-blood," Severus muttered under his breath.
"Now Severus, such language! And you were doing so well this year!"
"How would you know? You still haven't told me who you are, and what you're doing in my house." Severus folded his arms across his chest. "For that matter, I demand that you tell me how the hell you know my name."
"The same way you used to know mine, my dear boy."
"Used to know… what? You, sir, appear to be an escapee from St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward… or one of Dumbledore's more eccentric acquaintances."
"I told you, we are good friends. I always bring him a nice pair of warm, woollen socks because everyone else forgets. This year, he's getting a pair with images of Ice Mice that chatter and squeak."
Severus took a bracing breath. "That's more information than I ever needed to know about Albus's wardrobe."
"That's no worse than the boxers you wear with the little green –"
"THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH." Severus took three direct, threatening strides towards the intruder. "I suppose you see me when I'm sleeping, and you know when I'm awake."
"That's the idea."
Severus lowered his head, staring eye-to-twinkling-eye with the strange man. "I think you need to leave."
"I can do that, Severus, my boy. But first, this is for you." Out of nowhere, the man seemed to produce a small box wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver ribbon, and he extended it towards Severus.
Out of reflex more than anything, and too surprised to refuse, Severus reached out and took the box. He tried to say something, but his mouth only managed to open and close soundlessly a couple of times as he looked back and forth between the box in his hand, and the man whose smile was fully visible even though a beard that gave Hagrid a run for his money.
The man gave a wink, and a twist of his head, letting Severus know he had nothing to dread. Then laying a cheeky finger against the side of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
Severus stared at the fireplace, barely hearing the heavy thud of boots on his roof, then looked down at the box in his hands. Delicately, hesitantly, he pried the lid off the box and looked inside. There, nestled in a bed of green tissue, was a small crystal lily. Even in the dim light of his living room, the tiny flower sparkled and shone, and for a moment, Severus forgot where he was.
A sudden whistle snapped him out of his reverie, and Severus ran to the window to see the strangest sight he'd ever witnessed. The man was rushing away into the night sky, flying in a red sleigh being pulled by eight tiny reindeer. Severus heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
A small tear fell unnoticed down Severus's cheek, and a memory he'd long buried came back to him. "Santa…"
The challenge was from seneska_bicku, and she wanted me to write a fic in which Snape gets into a confrontation with Santa Claus. I set it for the Christmas of Harry's 6th year. Here's the result:
T'was the night before Christmas, and all through Snape's house, not a Kreacher was stirring, not even a –
"FUCK." Snape stared at the test potion in his size 1 silver cauldron, cursed again under his breath, and banished the mixture with a flick of his wand. He grumbled for a moment, then flipped to the next potion he needed to try. He had such limited time.
Spinner's End at Christmas was… the same as it was any other time of year. Down the road, in the more populated parts of town, there were houses decorated with strands of cheap lights, models of reindeer, and hideously tacky plastic snowmen. Truth be told, Severus was grateful that he'd never had such indignity inflicted upon him. As a child – a very young child – he might have argued that point, but in his mature years, he was pleased that he'd never learnt to waste his time on such pointless (and embarrassing) distractions.
With the students gone for the holiday, it gave Severus time to catch up on some of his research for Dumbledore. There was no way that Severus would allow Dumbledore's asinine plan to proceed… not if there was anything he could do about it. He was storming through every text and tome he had on the subject of restorative potions, regenerative salves, and anything that had a remote change of reviving Dumbledore's deadened hand and preventing the curse from eventually taking the life of the old Headmaster. Nothing seemed likely, but he wasn't about to surrender just yet.
It was late, and he usually liked to work in the dead quiet of the night. It meant he could focus in the absolute silence. However, that didn't seem to be happening tonight, as some stupid kids were probably causing holiday mischief nearby. He could hear the incessant ringing of sleighbells. Cursing to himself about jingle bells being an evil somewhere between Horcruxes and third-year Gryffindors, Severus went to the window and looked out.
The moon on the crest of the new fallen snow gave the luster of mid-day to the sad old dead end road. In the distant sky, some group of careless wizards on brooms who had nothing better to do on the holiday were recklessly flying in plain sight of any Muggle who happened to be awake. The irritating sound of bells was even louder. Severus slammed the window shut, went back to his table, and grabbed his wand to cast a Silencing Charm on the windows and doors. The sound was instantly muffled to near-silence, and Severus bent back over his book.
And then in a twinkling, he heard on the roof a thunderous crash that shook the rafters like an entire Quidditch team coming in for a landing directly above his head.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SHRIVELLED – what the fuck was that?"
A large man had just fallen out of his fireplace with a clumsy bounce. He had a beard and glasses like Dumbledore, and a girth like Slughorn. He was wearing the most ridiculous red pajamas. He had a broad face, and a little round belly…
"What the hell are you doing in my house? The Floo has been disconnected. It should be impossible for you to get in here. Who are you?"
"Ho ho ho! All the questions, so many questions!" he said with a jolly laugh.
"Indeed, there are questions," Severus said… severely, "and I'm asking them. What are you doing in my house?"
"Well, it's Christmas Eve," the man said happily, as if that answered everything.
Severus shook his head in dismay. This old bloke was an absolute nutter. He turned away from the old codger to find his jar of Fire Call powder. "I'm calling the Aurors, on the charge of breaking and entering, if you don't leave my house immediately. I have far too much work to do to continue with this –"
"Severus," the man interrupted.
Severus had started to lift the jar from the shelf, but the tone of voice – which sounded far too much like Dumbledore for his comfort – stopped him. His hand lowered the jar to the shelf again, while his eyes were glued to the stranger's eyes, which twinkled behind his spectacles. He had dimples – so merry – in cheeks red as roses, divided by a nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was –
"Did Dumbledore send you?" Severus asked cautiously.
"Not directly, my dear boy, but Albus and I are old friends. I believe he's the oldest man alive – wizard or Muggle – who still writes me a letter every year."
"You work with Muggles?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "But you are a wizard, are you not?"
"Ho ho ho!" he laughed. "I have… special privileges."
"Half-blood," Severus muttered under his breath.
"Now Severus, such language! And you were doing so well this year!"
"How would you know? You still haven't told me who you are, and what you're doing in my house." Severus folded his arms across his chest. "For that matter, I demand that you tell me how the hell you know my name."
"The same way you used to know mine, my dear boy."
"Used to know… what? You, sir, appear to be an escapee from St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward… or one of Dumbledore's more eccentric acquaintances."
"I told you, we are good friends. I always bring him a nice pair of warm, woollen socks because everyone else forgets. This year, he's getting a pair with images of Ice Mice that chatter and squeak."
Severus took a bracing breath. "That's more information than I ever needed to know about Albus's wardrobe."
"That's no worse than the boxers you wear with the little green –"
"THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH." Severus took three direct, threatening strides towards the intruder. "I suppose you see me when I'm sleeping, and you know when I'm awake."
"That's the idea."
Severus lowered his head, staring eye-to-twinkling-eye with the strange man. "I think you need to leave."
"I can do that, Severus, my boy. But first, this is for you." Out of nowhere, the man seemed to produce a small box wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver ribbon, and he extended it towards Severus.
Out of reflex more than anything, and too surprised to refuse, Severus reached out and took the box. He tried to say something, but his mouth only managed to open and close soundlessly a couple of times as he looked back and forth between the box in his hand, and the man whose smile was fully visible even though a beard that gave Hagrid a run for his money.
The man gave a wink, and a twist of his head, letting Severus know he had nothing to dread. Then laying a cheeky finger against the side of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
Severus stared at the fireplace, barely hearing the heavy thud of boots on his roof, then looked down at the box in his hands. Delicately, hesitantly, he pried the lid off the box and looked inside. There, nestled in a bed of green tissue, was a small crystal lily. Even in the dim light of his living room, the tiny flower sparkled and shone, and for a moment, Severus forgot where he was.
A sudden whistle snapped him out of his reverie, and Severus ran to the window to see the strangest sight he'd ever witnessed. The man was rushing away into the night sky, flying in a red sleigh being pulled by eight tiny reindeer. Severus heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
A small tear fell unnoticed down Severus's cheek, and a memory he'd long buried came back to him. "Santa…"
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Bella
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I especially loved all the bits about Santa and Dumbledore. And Snape's reaction to all that. Very entertaining. :D
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I hate to be a pain but that's not correct english. You cant pluralise "Nutter" when talking about one person like that. He can be "A Nutter", "Completely Nuts" or "Nutty". Nutters is almost like a name.
Apart from that, Nice work :)
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And... sorry about the Brit-speak glitch. *meep*