The Twelve Days of Christmas

It's over... *sniff* Merry Christmas Eve to you all. I'm sorry about not being able to put out twelve chapters... I'm a failure, I know. It still worked out in the end though, so hopefully you're not too disappointed. I wish you all a happy and safe holiday season, and I hope you all receive exactly what you want. My inbox is always open - aimee@mediaone.net - and if you have AOL Instant Messanger, my current screen name is ExemplarPiaculum. Feel free to chat, I always love talking to you guys. :o)
Aimée

Chapter Ten - The Funky Chicken


Once everyone had finished their conversations, Dumbledore instructed Neville, Pansy, Draco, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati to stand up, while the others sat down.

"I see most of you were rather surprised as to who your Saint was. I'm glad to see it; surprises are a part of the Christmas season." Dumbledore smiled down upon them once more, clapping his hands in glee.

"The second list of names shall now be read; once again, please follow procedure and stand by your Saint."

He cleared his throat before looking down at the list in his hands, "Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger."

An almost inaudible gasp arose from the Gryffindor table as Hermione gave Neville a look of complete surprise; he was the absolute last person she had been expecting.

"Pansy Parkinson, Ronald Weasley."

Once again, a cough that was bound to cover up a laugh filtered through the group as Ron stood up, ears tinted pink, to walk over by Pansy.

"Dean Thomas, Vincent Crabbe."

Without so much as a word from either of the two boys, Crabbe lumbered over to where Dean was standing, crossing his arms and looking down at his feet.

"Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan."

Seamus let out a whoop of delight, terribly glad he hadn't received Malfoy as a Saint. He stood up and practically leapt over to Lavender's side, who wasn't looking exceptionally happy her individual was Seamus.

"Parvati Patil, Gregory Goyle."

Mimicking exactly what his friend before him had done, Goyle lumbered over silently to Parvati's side, who wasn't looking as happy as she had before.

Harry rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hear his name read. He got up and went to stand by Draco, who was snickering quietly to himself.

"Was this game rigged?" he asked good-naturally to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled and shrugged, "It wasn't I, Mr. Potter, who handed out the names."

Draco elbowed Harry in the ribs lightly, simply to get his attention as the rest of the crowd started talking as well.

"I'm beginning to agree with you on this whole rigged issue," Draco admitted, eyeing the Headmaster warily.

"How did you find out about Prongs – and my middle name, for that matter?" Harry blurted out.

Draco shrugged, "I asked Professor Lupin, to be honest. I asked him what the perfect gift would be – he started to mention a stag, and I simply asked why."

"And my middle name?" Harry asked quietly, reaching into the folds of his robes and allowing Prongs to walk daintily onto the palm of his hand.

"Easy," answered Draco, "Harry James Potter – it's in every recent Defense Against the Dark Arts book there is, to tell you the truth."

Harry sighed, "That's… sad."

Draco cocked his head, "What's sad? The fact everyone knows your middle name, or the fact there's far too many DADA books?"

"Both." Harry grinned.




Neville stood next to Hermione nervously, fidgeting every few moments. Over the past two weeks, he had developed – something that could only be described as a crush – on Hermione. Seeing her face-to-face with her having the knowledge he was her Saint was one of the most terrifying things he could ever remember having to go through.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, "For all the lovely gifts. I really, really appreciated them."

Neville smiled, "You … you're welcome."

There was more silence between the two, but Hermione finally broke then ice once again.

"Listen… would you like to go to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow? Have a Butterbeer with me?"
Did he?

Neville had to restrain himself from whooping with delight, and he allowed himself to nod courteously.

"Yes, that'd be very nice."

Before another word could be spoken by any of the students, a loud slamming sound was heard as Seamus jumped up onto the table and hastily unbuttoned his robes, throwing them off his shoulders to reveal nothing but a pair of festive red and green underwear underneath – which was shed a moment later.

"I was prepared," Seamus winked towards Ron as a loud gasp was heard throughout the crowd.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," Seamus continued. "I shall dance the Funky Chicken naked for you."

And he most certainly did.