Author: Me (cissymalfoy, moonysangel)

Originally Published in the Snape's POV-post HBP thread on Mugglenet's Chamber of Secrets Forums

Rating: PG13 (reference to alcohol, violence to Wormtail)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter & Co. belong to J.K. Rowling. I don't own them, or pretend to own them. Pinky and the Brain are the property of Warner Brothers. I don't own them either.

Author's Note: These stories may contain mild-HBP spoilers within. Read at your own risk, of course. I hope you enjoy wacky comedies...

Snape leaned against the wall by the fireplace, rubbing his aching temple with his free right hand, clutching an untouched glass of eggnog in his left. I hate Christmas parties, he thought. Why am I here?

As if to answer him, his left forearm began to ache as well. Whatever possessed the Dark Lord to throw a Christmas party? This is ridiculous. I wish I were back in my nice, warm, cozy dungeon reading a good book. It wasn't that he hated Christmas, no, it was a perfectly fine holiday; it was just that people acted like perfect idiots every time it rolled around. Look at Lord Voldemort, busily decorating a Christmas tree, while several drunken Death Eaters ran around singing carols.

Snape was reluctant to move from nearby the fireplace, firstly because the room was freezing cold. Secondly, every time he moved, clumps of mistletoe seemed to pop up everywhere, and he was tired of surreptitiously incinerating them with his wand. He had no doubt where the mistletoe was coming from. Bellatrix and Narcissa kept standing around whispering to each other and eyeing him hungrily. Just like they were doing now.

Wormtail came bustling nervously out of the kitchen, bearing a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "Severus," he whispered. "Did you bring them?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Bring what?"

"The gifts! The Christmas presents for the Dark Lord! Please tell me you didn't forget them." Wormtail was visibly sweating, and it was probably not due to having been forced into kitchen service upon their arrival.

"Yes, you little idiot. I put them in the stocking with the rest of the presents." Lazy little rat, couldn't even do your own shopping. I had to buy it for you! I hope the Dark Lord likes it…or do I?

Relieved, Wormtail hurried over to the buffet table, swapped the tray for an empty one and disappeared back into the kitchen. Snape shook his head, looking over at the large stocking hanging from the mantle, touching the floor. It was green velvet with "Lord Voldemort" spelled out in large silver letters. The Dark Lord had commanded his followers to fill it with Christmas presents or suffer…consequences.

Sighing wearily, Snape reluctantly walked over to the buffet table, intent on ridding himself of the eggnog before he accidentally drank some of the vile stuff. Who would want to drink something made with raw eggs? You could get food poisoning that way! He placed the full glass on the table and picked up a glass of green punch. It appeared to be safe to drink. A pile of silver and gold Christmas crackers lay at the end of the table. Oh joy and delight, he thought, crackers. Anyone who wants me to help pull one can shove it up their…

"Ah, Severus! I have finished the tree, what do you think?" Lord Voldemort clapped Snape hard on the shoulder, causing him to stagger and spill his punch. These were brand-new robes, too. Snape looked at the tree. It was six feet of scrawny, scraggly ugliness that looked like it belonged in a stage production of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Most of the needles were on the floor around it. Lurid green miniature Dark Marks glowed among the branches. Moth-eaten red and green velvet bows, and what appeared to be gold-glitter-dipped dead Doxies were scattered haphazardly and randomly about the tree. "Lovely, my Lord. Wonderfully festive," Snape said, glancing up to check for mistletoe.

Voldemort smiled, "I knew you'd like it!" The drunk Death Eaters, now slumped in a corner began singing again. "ARRRG! Crucio!" screamed Voldemort, pointing his wand. "How many repetitions of 'Jingle bells, Muggles smell' do I have to put up with? Silencio!"

Snape used the distraction to walk back over to the warm spot by the fireplace, glancing upward again for mistletoe. "Incendio," he whispered, setting fire to the clump that had mysteriously appeared in his absence, smirking at the pouts that appeared on the faces of the sisters Black. Maybe Voldemort would get around to opening his presents soon and he could go home. Yes, he was starting to open them now. Wonderful. What fun.

"To the Dark Lord, from Wormtail," read Voldemort. Opening the package, he pulled out a yellow and black book. "Dark Wizardry for Dummies?"

Wormtail yelped. "A joke, just a joke, please, my lord," glaring at Snape, who simply smirked back.

"Well, I find this funny…Crucio!"

Hmm. I find that funny, too. Maybe next time Wormtail will do his own shopping. The Dark Lord's birthday is next week, after all…