Wolf: Well, here's my Christmas story! Woot woot!
Severus: Oh no…not again!
Wolf: Hahahaha! This is based off A Christmas Carol, which I'm pretty sure all of you have heard of it. Anyways, Snape's never been one to get into the holiday spirit, but can visits from four ghosts change that? I like Snape, and this is a Christmas story, so obviously it won't end badly. I don't own Harry Potter or A Christmas Carol.
Chapter 1
Harry grinned at Ron and Hermione as they settled down for the Christmas feast. The magical sky on the ceiling was dark, with a gentle drizzle of snowflakes falling from above, disappearing just at they were above the students' heads.
Dumbledore had really outdone himself this year. The halls were covered from floor to ceiling with everything red, white, and green. The Christmas trees were the largest, and even the staff had been asked to dress in the Christmas spirit. Well, not really asked, forced was probably the correct word, in some cases.
Dumbledore was wearing brilliant robes of red and green, that,did not match. McGonagall was wearing a red Santa hat, adorned with small embroidering of holly. Flitwick was dressed in bright red, his short stature making him appear to be one of Santa's elves. Hagrid was dressed in his best and ugliest suit. And Snape…
Harry spat out his pumpkin juice and busted up in laughter. Ron glared at him. "What's so funny?" he asked Harry. Still giggling, Harry pointed at the edge of the staff table. Ron and Hermione followed his guiding finger. What they saw was both hilarious and disturbing.
Snape, with his usual scowl on his pale face, was wearing a obnoxiously red Santa hat that, without a doubt, Dumbledore had given him. It was quite lucky that he had not noticed the mistletoe hanging directly above him (Courtesy of Fred and George Weasley), or else the man would have probably exploded with his irritation.
Hermione was gaping, and Ron snickered so hard that pumpkin juice flowed out of his nose. Hermione eyed it in disgust, though her eyes clearly showed her amusement. "Poor Professor Snape," she said.
Ron gazed at her in disbelief. "You pity him? That greasy git deserves it!" He them began shoveling even more food into his mouth.
Harry eyed Snape once more. He really did hate Christmas. What could have possibly have happened to make him hate it so much? If only there was some way to make the holidays happy for him…even if he was a greasy git.
As soon as possible, Snape hustled out of the Great hall so fast, one could have sworn he had Apparated. His trademark scowl was even more screwed up than normal. He clenched his fists asd he thought of Dumbledore, all the while stalking the corridors until he reached his quarters in the dungeons. The nerve of that man! Snape hated Christmas- and for many good reasons, too. At least, he believed them to be good reasons.
Snape sighed and climbed into bed (What did you expect, a coffin?), thinking that Christmas this year would be the same horror as every year before.
This time, though, a lot of things were going to go differently…
Wolf: Yeah, I know, it short, sue me. I have around a month and a half to work on this, and it's not really long.
Severus: Perfect. What kinds of horrors do you have planned?
Wolf: (Grins.) A lot. Trust me. Review!