In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Snape had received many a visit to his quarters from the staff at Hogwarts. It had started with Hagrid, who had come by one evening long after Harry had been put to bed, asking what the child had requested for Christmas. It was only at this point that it had dawned on Snape that the child hadnt mentioned presents at all. Even the 6th Years would loudly discuss the requests they had made, and Snape had been pondering why the small 5-year-old wasn't similarly excited.
Harry was busy making Christmas Cards for his friends. He had noticed an influx of owls in recent days, who had been dropping off cards covered in glitter and holly, some which sang loud Christmas tunes upon opening. Harry had remembered that his Aunt would often send Christmas cards to the neighbours as well as his Aunt Marge, but he had never sent any himself.
"Snape, is yellow a Christmas colour?" the child asked, clutching a yellow crayon and craning his head around to look at the older man who was busy marking essays.
"Hmm?" the man asked in return, occupied by a particularly dimwitted student who was attempting to argue some of the most basic fundamentals of potion making.
"Yellow" Harry called clealrly, holding up the crayon in case Snape was unfamiliar with the colour "is it a Christmas colour?" he continued, abandoning his card to walk over to the man. Harry tiptoed to glance down at the essay that was currently being marked, and was covered in red-ink comments. Large chunks of the essay were littered with big crosses through the work, and Harry found himself feeling bad for whichever student had submitted it.
Snape considered the question, wondering how best to tell the child without him becoming upset. "Yellow is not a traditional Christmas colour" he began, turning himself towards the child and ruffling the child's messy head of hair. "However, red was not the traditional clothing of Saint Nicholas and yet we have adopted it as such" the man continued.
"Who's Saint Nicholas?" the boy asked, having moved to lean against the side of the mans armchair. He fiddled with the lone yellow crayon as he listened to the man.
"Would you like to hear his story?" the man asked in return, lifting the child up to rest in his lap at the eager nod.
It was a dark day in December when a poor shoemaker, Ernest Hobble, was lighting a fire in the wooden hut which was residence for him and his three daughters. Ernest would work late into the night to make shoes, in hopes that his hard work would provide sufficient money for his three daughters; Evangeline, Estella, and Esmerelda.
"Esmerelda" the young boy whispered, testing the name out on his tongue and briefly interrupting the tale. Snape offered the child a small smile as he heard the name whispered, before continuing the story.
Ernest was worried, as most Fathers were, when a man propositioned his daughters hand in marriage, citing her as the most beautiful woman he had laid eyes upon. Ernest was, of course, happy that such an offer had been made as it would secure Evangeline a good future, and the possibility to have children of her own. However, as the marriage date approached, Ernest was increasingly worried that he could not offer Evangeline a dowry with which she could support herself should the marriage fail. The wedding was scheduled, and Ernest was working day and night to save his profits to offer his eldest daughter upon her marriage. However, it was simply not enough. A crack in the roof diverted funds one way, and an elderly woman in need of medicine had diverted his funds that way too. Alas, it was the night before the wedding when Ernest sat down with his daughter to admit to this.
"I have failed you Evangeline for, despite my work, I have but pittance to offer you" the man advised solemnly. "I have not words to express my regret"
"Father" the young woman interrupted "you have given me my wants and desires, sacrificing your own for your children" she added. "I wish not for large dowry's and jewels, only that you ensure you will look after yourself well when I am gone".
The pair had gone to bed, and the house was still. Despite the visitor that would enter their home that night, the occupants would awake and swear they had not heard a peep. When the youngest sister, Esmerelda, awoke at dawn to fetch water from the well, she noticed a small bag addressed to Evangeline.
"What have you there?" Estella asked her oldest sister as she entered the parlour, seeing the small bag placed by the fire.
"I do not know" Evangeline confirmed "perhaps a present from my suitor in preperation for today" she continued, opening the bag to see a pile of gold.
"Kinda like my vault at Gringotts" the child intercepted once more, glancing at Snape apologetically for have interrupted the tale.
"Not too disimilar, Harry, shall I continue?".
A year passed, and Ernest along with his three daughters remained unaware of who the secret gift giver had been. They remained, nonetheless, appreciative for this secret altruist and would often speak of his kind and giving nature. They were truly shocked when, in awaiting Estella's marriage proposal, another small bag of gold was left in the parlour overnight. No name was ever given as to the giver, and a simple message addressed to Estella read only her name and wishes that her marriage be long. The family celebrated and, when another year passed, signalling the turn of Esmerelda, they pondered whether she would meet the same gift. Alas, the evening before her wedding she slept well and, upon awakening, discovered another small bag of gold.
Ernest, now alone in the home he once shared with his daughters, pondered on the generosity of this mysterious figure. Had it not been for this person, who left small bags of gold hanging from the mantle piece, his daughters may not have had such loving marriages.
It soon became talk of the town, and over the years many villagers would leave small bags on their mantle piece in hopes they might be visited by this generous person. Over the years, each bag would be hung empty and mysteriously full by the time morning broke.
"But who was it Snape?" the child asked in excitement "who was giving them all that gold?"
"Well it was Saint Nicholas, Harry" the man confirmed, giving the child a small smile as he continued his tale.
Saint Nicholas had seen the family, and all the hard work they had done for each other and for the village. You see, Saint Nicholas had been orphaned from a young age, and he liked to help parents who struggled with their children. Saint Nicholas had got a large inheretence from his parents when they had died and, wanting to do something useful with this money, had decided to give it to others. He wanted to avoid the praise and thanks he was likely to receive had he done this openly, and so decided to give his gifts in the dark of night when he could do so undisturbed.
"Does Saint Nicholas remind you of someone?" Snape asked the boy, hoping to get to the bottom of why the child did not seem concerned in the slightest about what he might be getting from the man for Christmas.
Harry could only look at Snape in confusion. "Saint Nicholas gave what he had to other people, right?" the child returned and, at a nod from Snape, "so he's kind of like you" the boy added.
Snape had been called and compared to many a thing in his life thus far. He had been called greasy, a snake, a coward, and the list could go on. However he could firmly attest that, in spite of this array of comparisons, he had never had anyone attempt to compare him to a Saint, let alone Saint Nicholas. "How so Harry?" he asked after a short moment of silence.
The child pondered the question, "well you did let me stay here" he offered "and you give me stuff sometimes too" the child added, glancing back up at the man through thick eyelashes.
"Well I suppose that is true, however I have not done so in the dark of night" Snape informed the child, "I was quite expecting you to think of someone else".
The child huffed at this, now unsure of which figure he was supposed to aliken this Saint Nicholas man too. "What did he look like Snape? Saint Nicholas I mean".
Nobody had ever laid eyes on Saint Nicholas, and the town folk began to wonder who this mystery man might be. Centuries passed and the town folk changed as new children were born, yet the true constant was the presence of gifts carefully selected and quietly given. Over time, people began speculating about what this man might look like. They described a friendly man, with a smiling face and a red nose from the cold of winter. A man who wore fur-lined boots in emerald green, and carried sacks of presents on his back. Some even swore they had seen reindeer fly clear across the sky, carrying a sledge with a lone rider and heaps of gifts. Nobody was ever able to confirm these sightings and, over time, the descriptions of Saint Nicholas would grow and change. Nowadays, many people believe him to wear cloaks of red, and to ride a sleigh pulled by no less than 9 reindeer.
"Does that help you child?" the man asked, summoning a blanket to throw over the child as the pair continued their chat.
Harry snuggled deeper into the blanket that was laid over him, "Reindeer like Father Christmas?" the child asked in excitement.
"Ahh" the man acknolwedged with a smile "so we are aware of Father Christmas?" he asked the child.
Of course he knew about Father Christmas, the child thought with a slight pout. Clearly the man didn't think Harry as deserving as Evangeline or Esmerelda, leaving him nothing. He didn't understand what he had done to have fallen into disfavour with the man, and couldn't think of any particular incident which might have given him a permenant ban from presents.
Snape watched as the childs face morphed into one of disappointment, followed by confusion, and ultimately resting with sadness. The child looked as though he had just been delivered a blow to the heart, and Snape could not put his finger on what had caused such an expression. "What's troubling you child?" he asked, when it became clear that Harry would not disclose without prompting.
The boy simply shrugged in response, choosing not to commit to an explanation. It was quite clear that Snape was unaware that Father Christmas had placed him on the naughty list many moons ago, and Harry most certainly wasn't going to bring it to his attention. If he did, Snape was likely to realise that he was more trouble than he was worth, that even Father Christmas had found him to be beyond redemption.
"Harry" the man started, clearing his throat "when your parents passed, I was given a few of your belongings for safe keeping" he added, silent summoning a box that had been gathering dust on the top shelf of his study. He flicked the lid open, noticing the childs attention peaking. He carefully lifted a floppy-eared stuffed rabbit out of the box and handed it over to the boy, who began gently stroking the soft fur. "This was given to you during your first Christmas" the man began, watching as the child became engrossed with the toy. "Father Christmas bought you so many presents that first year, that your Mum and Dad thought they'd never buy another present again" the man spoke, allowing himself to reminisce on that first Christmas.
"Please Severus, come for me?" the redhaired witch asked, standing in the doorway to his apartment that she had resolutely refused to leave until he agreed to join them for Christmas dinner.
"Lily" he sighed dramatically, "I have no qualms about spending Christmas with you, you know exactly why I wish not to come" he added.
"They won't bother you Sev, honest" she reassured him, "I've told them that if they do, I'll hex them into the New Year".
Severus laughed at this, knowing that if such a threat had been made then Lily was one witch who would absolutely see the threat through. He had begrudingly agreed to go, and had been met by the giggles of baby Harry. The child was surrounded by presents; toy trains, brooms, muggle lego, all manner of plastic items and soft toys. They had all laughed when the boy had ignored the copious number of gifts in favour of playing with the wrapping paper that was torn to shreds around him.
"Did I really only like the wrapping paper?" the boy laughed at Snape's recollection, earning a small smile from the Potions Master.
Snape nodded at this "yes, the shiny paper was much more exciting than the toy's Father Christmas had left you".
"Maybe that's why he doesn't leave anything now?" the child asked aloud "cos he thinks I wont like 'em". It seemed like a plausible explanation. If he had made a card for a friend and they had hung up the envelope, he might decide to just send an envelope the next year and not bother with a card at all.
"Hmm" the older man offered non-commiitally. "Did he not leave you a thing whilst you were with your Aunt?" the man asked in surprise. At Harry's blank look of confirmation, Snape knew he had to spin the story slightly, if only to protect the boy's healthy psychological development. "I think perhaps Father Christmas was worried that, if he left you any toys at all, your Aunt Petunia might give them all to your cousin Dudley" the man added in explanation.
"You really think so?" the child sat up in excitement, "so if Dudley's not hear this year, I might get my presents?" the child continued, kneeling up on the mans lap to be eye level with him.
"I daresay you will" he smiled.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry shouted in greeting as he ran ahead of Snape into the teachers lounge. "Guess what?" the child grinned as he stopped in front of the older man "Snape says that Father Christmas is gonna visit me here! At Hogwarts!" he added in breathless excitement.
"Going to, not gonna" the baritone voice corrected, the man shooting sympathetic glances to the staff faculty for the onslaught of excitement they were all about to be subject to. It had been just yesterday evening that Snape had told the child the story of Saint Nicholas and, after much cajooling, had managed to put the child to bed. However, upon awakening the child had immediately been abuzz with thoughts and questions about Christmas.
"Well we shall have to check that the floo network is clear so that he may come through when he pleases" the old man told the child ernestly, "I shall have to speak to the elves to make sure they are aware".
"Father Christmas doesn't need the floo" the child eyed the man sideways, glancing over at Snape to silent enquire as to why the headmaster was not aware of how the magical present giver travelled. Snape simply returned a raised brow, conveying equal confusion. "He uses his sleigh, remember?" the child asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the old man.
"Ah so he does Harry" the older man smiled "I can count on you to leave them some carrots for their troubles can I not my boy?"
Charlie knelt down next to the boy, re-wrapping the scarf that had fallen loose as they had been walking. After Harry's excitement during the first quidditch match Snape had taken him to, he had been talking Charlie's ear off about going to watch them practice. Charlie had agreed, and had told the child to ask Snape for his permission, promising the boy that he would take him as soon as Snape had agreed.
"Make sure he wears his scarf, hat, and gloves" the man had ordered sternly, as he had passed the child over in to the care of the Weasley boy. "If he comes back sick you'll be harvesting bubotubor puss well into the New Year" he'd threatened.
"Will I practice with you Charlie?" the boy asked as he skipped alongside the older boy down towards the quidditch field. It was the last Saturday before Christmas, and the last chance for the Gryffindor quidditch team to practice before they would break up for Christmas.
"Sure you can Harry" Charlie smiled in return "I'll need you to help me find the snitch, wont I?" he confirmed as they approached the field, the rest of the team already warming up. "You sit there Harry" the older boy pointed to the referee seat in the centre of the pitch.
Harry watched in wonder as the team flew around, practicing various manouvers and tricks that would help them in their first game of the year. He was a good mascot to have during their practice, cheering and applauding whenever Charlie took a risky dive or one of the beaters hit the bludger particularly hard.
"Catch you later Charlie" a group of the team waved as they headed back up to the castle. Charlie had advised them to go ahead, telling them that he would fly around a bit more with Harry before returning him to Snape.
"Want to give it a try Harry?" the boy grinned, inviting the child to join him on his broom. It was something he had done for his younger brothers on countless occassions, when they had wanted to try flying without the risks of doing it alone.
"I really can?!" the child jumped up, running over to Charlie and attempting to clamber up onto the broom. Charlie gave the child a hand up and, once situated on the broom in front of him, took off slightly above the ground. Harry leaned back against the older boy, cheering in excitement as he was lifted off the ground.
Snape watched with some concern, from the window of his parlour, as the Weasley boy took Harry into the sky for the first time. A part of him wanted to storm down to the field and grind Weasley up into a potion powder, but seeing Harry so happy he had refrained from spoling his fun. In fact, Weasley had been a big help to the boy, developing his confidence among other children and offering the child a friendship.
"I take it you had fun with Mr Weasley" Snape asked as he walked back into the parlour with a mug of hot chocolate for the boy. When the child had been returned, cheeks and nose red from the cold, Snape had ordered him to sit in front of the fire to warm up.
"Thanks Snape" the child offered with a tired smile as he carefully accepted the mug of hot chocolate and lifted it to his lips. "It was the best ever" the child smiled after taking his first sip, crossed legged in front of the fire. "I hope I get a broom for Christmas" the child breathed into the hot chocolate, unaware of the smile that graced Snape's lips at the first Christmas request the child had ever made.