Written for Round 5 of Season 2 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Beater 1 for the Falmouth Falcons

Disclaimer: Not making money, nope.

Word Count: ~1,000

Character: Evan Rosier

Event: Christmas at Hogwarts.

A/N: This is a poor attempt at Crack. Please turn back. Again. Please TURN BACK. DO NOT PROCEED. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200. This is a very non Christmas-y fic but oh wells.

.x.x.

Slytherins don't waste time on sentiments. It just wasn't done. Time was better spent on other things…like getting their hands on some high quality firewhiskey. And if you proved to be idiotic enough to be weighed down by sentiments, no one was going to tiptoe around you.

Which is why no one wanted to mention the obvious as they lounged around the Common Room, glasses of smuggled firewhiskey in hand, reminiscing about Christmases past. Not that there was much for them to reminisce about. None of them really spent their Christmases at Hogwarts; most of them opted to go home. Why would anyone choose to stay in this godforsaken place filled with goodwill, Christmas cheer, and filthy mudbloods and mudblood sympathizers?

It was the firewhiskey.

That's what they'll say in the morning when they all feel like shit and pretend that nothing embarrassing had happened the night before.

.x.x.

"All right, who's first?"

Evan watched as Avery pointed his wand at the cauldron, taking a sip from the cup in hand. He waited with everyone else for the thing to spit out the next name. They didn't wait long.

Mulciber picked up the little slip and laughed.

"Oi, Rosier, you're up," he said, snickering.

What Evan should have done was hurl his half-empty cup at the man, but that would have been a dead giveaway as to how much he didn't want to talk about his most idiotic moments. And Mulciber would have enjoyed that immensely, something Evan couldn't let happen no matter what.

Instead, he smirked, his face cooly devoid of any signs of embarrassment, and said, "Fine, my turn."

Mulciber grinned even wider. "Perfect. We all know how much you just love Christmas, after all."

.x.x.

Evan danced into the Common Room, giggling, Avery's slick, silver dress robes fashioned around him like a cape. Some sixth and seventh year students sat in the corner snickering—and maybe even laughing—at him, but Evan couldn't care less. He was feeling strangely floaty and happy and absolutely nothing—nothing—could bring him down.

"Oh Christmas! Christmas!" he sang as he made his way around the room. It had to be Christmas. Christmas was the only time he felt remotely close to being this happy. "I love Christmas!"

He spotted good ol' lonely little Severus sitting by himself in the corner and skipped over, making sure his cape was billowing around him so that he looked his absolute best.

Severus looked up at him and frowned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Evan just ignored him.

"Happy Christmas, Severus!" he shouted, throwing his arms around the smaller boy and squeezing him as tight as he possibly could. The poor boy needed someone to hug and Evan was the perfect Christmas cheer-spreading angel to do it. And because he was feeling extra giving today, Evan turned and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek as well. Even if it did miss his cheek and landed somewhere around his ear.

.x.x.

Evan narrowed his eyes but it didn't stop Mulciber at all. Mulciber just kept snickering as he recounted the story; one Evan would much rather no one ever remembered.

He should have murdered Mulciber the moment he'd sobered up, expulsion be damned. Not that he hadn't gotten back at the bloody bastard, but it's the principle behind it all that mattered. He should have made sure all witnesses were dealt with.

"You should have seen Snape. He was glowing redder than all the Gryffindors combined," Mulciber said.

The room roared with laughter, the firewhiskey loosening everyone up.

"What happens next? What happens next?" someone asked, excited to hear more, but Mulciber paused.

"Er…I don't remember. Nothing as fun, I can assure you," he said, looking mildly nervous, his smirk disappearing.

"Oh, don't you remember?" Avery stepped in, snickering. "Well, no matter. I can continue."

Evan smirked. He knew he had to have liked Avery for a reason.

.x.x.

Evan ignored the look of mortification on Severus's face as he skipped away. He saw Mulciber standing in the doorway leading to the dormitories and paused, considering. He didn't like Mulciber on principle. That and the fact that Severus actually seemed to like spending time with the boy made him unworthy of Evan's time. But because Sev did, for whatever reason, seem to enjoy his company, Evan made an exception. He still found Mulciber barely tolerable.

But Mulciber did give him that funny drink earlier. And it did make him feel all floaty and happy. So it'd be rude of him not to at least thank him for it.

Mulciber was laughing that annoying laugh of his, the one where it seemed he snorted more often than actually laugh, when Evan stopped in front of him. Evan gave him his best angelic smile but frowned when he saw Mulciber's laugh die mid-snort.

"Er…" Mulciber took a step back.

Even though the idea disgusted him to no end, he leaned in to kiss him anyway, if only to make Mulciber more uncomfortable.

Evan didn't miss his target this time, but he never got a chance to say "Happy Christmas" before Severus was right next to him pulling him away.

.x.x.

"You could hear his screams from the Quidditch pitch, I swear," Avery said, laughing. "He was red for a week afterward. A whole month, even. He couldn't look Evan in the eye for the next two years."

"I DID NOT!" Mulciber shouted, but no one was listening.

Evan laughed along with everyone else even though it was technically supposed to be his embarrassing story.

"You were the one who brought it up, Mulciber," Snape said snickering as well.

"Shut up, Snape," Mulciber said, glaring at him, but then grinned. "We never did find out what you two did after you pulled him into our room. So tell us, Severus, what did you and Rosier, here, get up to by yourselves?"

"I don't make it a habit to kiss and tell, Mulciber. Unlike you," Evan answered before Snape could. "Not that you've got anything to tell." Evan leaned back in the armchair he'd commandeered earlier, making himself comfortable.

Everyone else laughed alongside him.

Evan tipped his glass in Mulciber's direction, "Happy Christmas, Mulciber."

.x.x.