I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban will be in bold.

Christmas at Spinner's End

Ron stared in utter bafflement at the Potions professor's home. It was nothing like he imagined it to be. Although, to be fair, he basically expected the man to live in a dungeon-style abode. The living room that they had toppled into was actually pretty...cosy, if a bit dusty.

"You'll catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that," Hermione chided. She was not as surprised by the black leather couch, blood red curtains and rugs or dark wooden tables and dressers. Various pictures in golden frames depicted a woman Hermione could only guess was his mother.

Ron snapped his mouth shut as Charlie came rolling onto the red rug by the brick fireplace. "I hate Floo travel," she complained as she got to her feet.

Snape emerged out of the emerald flames next. He stood stiff in front of the three children, who quickly went silent. "Before I show you to your rooms, I am going to make a few things very clear. You will not go into my personal quarters, you will not go into my private lab and you will not leave Spinner's End without informing me first. If any of these rules are broken then the consequences will be dire. Understood?"

The ginger gulped nervously and quickly nodded. He wasn't too keen on the idea of staying at the dungeon bat's home, but he didn't want to wimp out and Floo home.

Snape directed them down the dimly lit hallways and pointed Ron to the first guest room. He quickly dragged his trunk behind him and entered, shutting the door firmly behind him and collapsing on the bed. He could hear Charlie and Hermione make their way down the hardwood floor to the other end of the hall.

Ron studied the room he would be occupying for a week or so. Like the rest of the house, it followed the colour scheme of red, gray and black. His sheets and pillows were gray and the bed hangings were a deep red colour. The rug was gray and the walls were black. The furniture was painted black wood. The redhead would admit it wasn't that bad.

Footsteps hurried towards his door and Ron panicked. He had absolutely no idea what other rules applied to living with Snape and hastily kicked his shoes off. His mother could care less if they had shoes on their beds, but if they made a mess on their sheets they had to clean them up. Was it the same deal for Snape?

Charlie pushed the door open and peered inside. "Are you still alive?" she teased as she and Hermione entered the room.

Ron let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his best friends. "Barely. I don't think I'll be able to survive."

"You need to relax. Just follow his rules and you'll be fine."

"But what about shoes on the bed, or elbows on the table?" Ron persisted. "He didn't elaborate enough!"

"Oh, big word." Hermione grinned when Ron glared at her.

Charlie laughed. "Professor Snape told us we could go outside until dinner time. Do you want to come with us?"

Ron pursed his lips. "Sure, but what's for dinner? Bat wings and blood?"

He got cuffed across the head twice.

...

The three played in the snow well until dusk. They built snowmen, had a snowball fight and built a snow fort. When Snape came to collect them they were dripping wet and shivering. "You all look like something the cat dragged in." He flicked his wand and all three kids felt like they were being bathed in warmth. "Put your wet clothes by the fire and join me in the kitchen."

Ron was last in hanging up his coat and mittens by the fire and joined his friends in the dining room. He was mildly surprised to see a feast of spaghetti waiting for him and his friends. He sat down and waited until Snape started piling food onto his plate.

"You look like something's going to jump out a bite you at any moment," Hermione whispered to him as she plucked a piece of garlic bread off of a plate.

Ron ignored her and started to eat. The food was really good.

"We can't take him anywhere," Charlie muttered as Ron continued to behave in the same manner as he did at Hogwarts meals-he shovelled as much food into his mouth as he possibly could.

"Chew, Ronald!" Hermione hissed. "I don't know the Heimlich manoeuvre yet!"

Snape was bemused, to say the least. The Weasley boys were well known for eating more than anyone else and the youngest was no different.

"Very good, sir," Ron said when he had finished.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I'm glad I'm not in your House, or else I would never get to eat."

...

It was midnight when Charlie finally decided that she wasn't going to get any sleep. Irritated, she climbed out of bed and shuffled down the hardwood floors and into the kitchen. The cupboards were made of dark wood, and even the fridge was black. Charlie shook her head and poured herself a glass of milk and sat down on one of the wooden stools at the kitchen bar.

"Miss Potter, may I ask why you are roaming my house instead of being in bed where you belong?" Snape drawled as he entered the kitchen, wearing his usual black robes.

Charlie shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I keep thinking a vampire will jump out of my closet."

"Keep that cheek up and I'll take twenty points away from Ravenclaw when we get back to the castle," he threatened as he made himself a cup of tea.

"Sorry, sir." She sipped her milk with a small smile. "I keep thinking about those Dementors, that's all."

"Nasty and foul creatures, and we're far away from them," Snape pointed out. "I hear Lupin is even going to give you lessons on how to defend yourself against them."

"Yeah. I'm hoping they'll help." Charlie shrugged. Wanting to divert the topic from the Dementors, she brought up something she had been wondering about since they had arrived. "Sir, you know the picture hanging on the mantel? The one with the red-haired girl that's about my age?"

Snape paused and turned to stare at her. "Yes, I know the one."

"She looks awfully familiar...and I was wondering if she was my mother when she was thirteen."

"You're a sharp child. It is." Snape shut off the whistling kettle and made his tea.

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Sir, why do you have a picture of my mother on your fireplace?"

"We...were acquaintances when we were younger," Snape offered.

Considering Snape's slightly reclusive habits, Charlie figured that they were probably more than acquaintances. Perhaps they were friends. "Uh-huh. Acquaintances don't have pictures of each other when they were children," she pointed out.

Snape pursed his lips. "Just like your mother. We were friends in our Hogwarts days, even though I was in Slytherin and she was in Gryffindor."

"Well, that's nice." Charlie wondered why Snape hated her father so much and decided not to breach the topic. "What was she like?"

"She was someone you didn't want to cross. She was sweet and very protective of her friends. She also had one nasty temper."

"Did she ever hex people?" Charlie asked. She certainly wanted to hex Pansy on a few occasions.

"She was very good at casting hexes. There was one time where a Slytherin was picking on a first-year Gryffindor. Lily was in her second year and didn't know the girl, but she wasted no time in scolding the brute for being so cruel and hexed him when he tried to curse her."

Charlie giggled. "Awesome! Did she ever hex you?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You don't need to know if she did or not."

"She totally did."

...

Hermione awoke around one in the morning and crawled out of bed. She went to the bathroom and when she headed back to her guest room she ran into Charlie in the middle of the hallway. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I went into the kitchen. Professor Snape came in moments later and after a while he started sharing stories about my mother."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "He knew your mother?"

"Yeah, they were friends when they were in Hogwarts. I wanted to know why he hated my father so much, but I didn't ask. Surely my father would have been around them often if Professor Snape hung out with my mother."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, maybe not. It seems your father was the leader of a prank gang. The exact same gang that were at ends with Professor Snape. Maybe your mother wasn't too fond of them at the beginning."

Charlie shrugged. "Maybe you're right. I'll ask when I think he's a bit more used to me."

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day where Professor Snape actually tolerates you."

"Hey, stranger things have happened."

...

Christmas arrived in no time at all and Charlie awoke to a fresh coat of snow and singing birds. She peered over the foot of her bed for the usual pile of presents and was surprised when there was none. Curious, she got up and knocked on Hermione's door.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked sleepily as she opened the door, her bushy hair a mess.

"Did you get any presents this morning? Or am I on the Naughty List this year?"

"Silly. They're in the living room underneath the tree."

Charlie recalled the beautiful spruce Snape had levitated into his living room and decorated with golden bubbles and blinking lights. She had forgotten all about it. Christmas at the Dursley's meant she was stuck in her cupboard until the Christmas guests had left. Then she had to cook the feast and serve it to her relatives and clean up.

"Right."

The two girls combed their hair and slipped on dress robes before heading into the living room. The coloured lights from the tree danced across the walls and Ron was bouncing in place frantically. "Oi! It's about time!"

"Mr. Weasley was about to have a fit," Snape drawled from his position in the red sitting chair by the fireplace. "Alright, go on and try not to break anything."

Ron eagerly tackled his pile of presents and Hermione and Charlie took a mug of hot chocolate from the tray in the middle of the coffee table and started to unwrap theirs as well.

Ron, of course, had gotten his usual Weasley jumper from his parents. The twins sent all of them joke kits and Percy sent them all golden quills to write with. Charlie Weasley sent Ron a miniature glass dragon figurine and Bill sent him a gold coin from Egypt. Ginny's gift to him was a book on Quidditch moves.

Ron thanked Charlie for the new Gobstones and Hermione for the new book bag, as his was rather banged up. Harry had sent all of them bags of sweets from Honeydukes.

"Wow, Ron!" Charlie exclaimed as she held up the sparkling blue and bronze Quidditch robes he had gotten her. "You didn't have to!"

"I wanted to," he mumbled back.

"You are sweet!" Hermione told him, loving her new organizer. "And Charlie, thanks for the rainbow quills!"

Soon there was a pile of paper and two gifts left under the tree. Charlie removed the bulky package and called for Dobby. The house-elf appeared and grew teary-eyed upon the gift that was handed to him. He eagerly tore the paper off to reveal different pairs of coloured socks. "Mistress and friends are very kind to Dobby!"

After he stopped sobbing, Charlie offered him her hot chocolate and then grabbed the last package. She carefully carried it and set it by a bewildered Snape before curling up on the couch beside Hermione.

"What's this?"

"Your Christmas present, of course. It's from all three of us. We got lucky when it came yesterday," Charlie remarked.

"It's a thank-you for being so hospitable," Hermione added.

Snape carefully pulled off the brown paper to reveal a gleaming set of brand new scales and beakers. Through his shock, he managed to say, "Thank you."

"Glad you like it." Charlie grinned and the three started to play with Ron's new Gobstone set.

...

Charlie and Hermione lugged their presents to their rooms. Charlie let out a sudden gasp upon seeing another package on her bed. "Wow!"

"Perhaps Professor Snape wanted to give you one in private," Hermione suggested.

Charlie set her gifts in her trunk and started to peel away the paper on the mysterious package. "Oh! Hermione!"

A beautiful broomstick lay among the wrapping. It had a gleaming handle and a golden register number.

It was the Firebolt.

"I don't think Professor Snape sent me this," Charlie whispered.

Hermione checked the wrappings. "There's no name on it, either."

Ron burst into the room. "Hey! What's the holdup-whoa!" He gaped at the broomstick. "Who gave you that?"

"I don't know," Charlie whispered.

Hermione bit her lip. "We should give it to Professor Snape."

"Are you mad?" Ron howled. "Think of all the games Charlie would win with this beauty! Can I ride on it?"

"No!" Hermione shouted.

Ron held up his hands. "Alright, alright, you can go first."

Hermione huffed and stormed into the hallway. Moments later she came back with Snape. The Potions professor stared at the broom for a long moment. "Where did you find this?"

"On my bed." Charlie pointed at the spot where she had found it.

Snape bent over and examined the broomstick. "I think I'll take this."

Ron gaped in horror. "But sir-!"

"No buts, Mr. Weasley." Snape picked up the Firebolt. "It might be harbouring a few hexes. I'll send it to Professor McGonagall and she can forward it to Professor Flitwick. He'll know how to detect any possible hexes. Madame Hooch will help him, I'm sure."

The Firebolt disappeared out the room along with Snape and Ron glowered at Hermione. "You little snitch! What's wrong with you?"

Hermione looked offended. "It might have been from Sirius Black!"

"How would he get a broom when the whole wizarding world is searching for him?" cried Charlie.

"I don't know, but it's very possible that he did send it to you!" Hermione said stubbornly.

Charlie sighed. "Well, you get to tell Scarlet how her star Seeker lost the best broom in the world and why she won't be getting a new one." She brushed by Hermione and Ron immediately followed.

A gift from Sirius Black or not, she really wanted a Firebolt.