(A/N: Only one chapter this week, but, rest assured, this is an extra long and hard chapter, because it is the one and only Sinterklaas special! Oh yes, old men, little boys, sweets, spankings and slavery; it's all in there. Everyone who is not from Holland, Belgium, or certain parts of Germany shall most likely be confused, but I don't care! Watch me laugh diabolically!)

Chapter 11: Sinterklaas Zwarte Piet OTP!!!11!

On the eve of December fifth, the Gryffindors were sitting around in the common room, doing whatever it is Gryffindors do in the evening, when suddenly cheerful music started playing. "What's that music?" Ron said. No-one knew, not even Hermione.

Then the door flew open, and in came a man dressed as a bishop, with a long white beard. He was carrying a bishop's staff and a large red book. Following him was a tall man in 16th century clothes, carrying a large jute bag and wearing a cap with a feather on it. He appeared to be smeared with black, and looked rather grumpy. As they walked in, the first man nudged the second one, who then reluctantly reached into the jute sack, took out a handful of exotic-looking sweets, and threw them at the children.

The Gryffindors looked at them blankly, and mostly left the sweets untouched, as they all had sufficient experience with free sweets lying around to know that you shouldn't eat them. The bishop stood in the middle of the room, looking dignified.

"Well, children," he said. "I hope you've all been good boys and girls, but, of course, we will soon find out whether or not you are. Chair, Piet." The second man looked angry, but fetched a chair and the bishop man sat down on it, and opened his book. He looked at it and leafed through it for a considerable amount of time, before calling out: "Harry Potter! Come here, please!"

Harry Potter looked at the man hesitantly. Who was he, and what did he want? Was he allied to Voldemort? His scar wasn't hurting, though, so he decided to take the chance and went up to the man. "Er, that's me." He said. The man made a strange motion with his hand.

"Well, come and sit on my lap, Harry." Harry frowned, but decided it would be best not to anger the man, so he sat down on his lap, feeling uncomfortable. "Very good!" said the man, gazing at Harry in a slightly disturbing way with very steely grey eyes. "Well, Harry, I'm afraid there are some unpleasant things about you in my book."

"Your book?" said Harry, confusedly.

"Yes, my book, in which I record what every boy and girl has done, and whether they've been naughty or not. And I am afraid, Harry, that you have been a very naughty boy."

"Oh?' said Harry.

"Oh yes," said the man. "For instance, it says that you've been shouting at your friends a lot lately, for absolutely no reason at all."

"WHAT?" said Harry, "I HAVEN'T BEEN SHOUTING, AND WHEN I DID, THEY DESERVED IT, BECAUSE…"

"Yes, yes, Harry," said the man, "what a lovely illustration of my point. But that is not all you've done, is it?"

"What?" asked Harry, more confused than ever.

"It also says that you've been very unkind to a very benevolent and generous and just Potions Master at this school. He told me himself that he was very hurt by it." The man went on.

"Snape?? But he…" Harry began, but was interrupted by the man.

"Tut, tut, tut, Harry. That is a very serious list of naughtinesses." The man shook his head mournfully. "You know how sad this makes me, don't you Harry?"

"Er, no, actually." said Harry.

"Well, it pains my heart, but I'm afraid you'll have to be put into the sack and come back to Spain with us." With these words, the man with the sack grabbed Harry violently, lifted him up and tipped him into the sack. "Goodbye, boys and girls," said the bishop man. "We will be back next year. Be sure to put your shoe under the chimney tonight and sing! And to be good all next year!" He waved at the children, as the music started playing again.

Then he nudged the other man, who was having trouble keeping the sack with struggling Harry in it closed. "Do something athletic!" he hissed at him, at which the man grimaced, and did a very half-hearted attempt at a somersault, wheeling Harry Potter in the sack. They turned and walked away. Through the window the stunned Gryffindors could see the bishop man mount a white horse, and fly away, the other man, still carrying the sack, sitting behind him, holding on to his back.

"Well, Severus, I am glad you told me about this Sinterklaas business. The Dark Lord will be so pleased with our, ah, 'catch'!" The man dressed as a bishop said, smirking.

"Oh yes, Lucius," Snape said, giving the sack a good shake. "but not half as pleased as I am." And he grinned sadistically.