AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just in case anyone out there cares, "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella" is a bitch to rewrite. It took over a year and something like three or four drafts, but I think it has finally turned out okay. If it didn't quite, feel free to let me know, and I'll see what I can do to tweak it up to specs. Again.
AE

PS And no, the above is not to be construed as a statement that anyone by the name of Jeanette or Isabella is a bitch. Just the song, and only when it's being butchered—er, I mean, improved.

Chapter 19: The Voiskapter

CHRISTMAS 1981, THIRD YEAR

In the wake of her parents' deaths, Meli could be tricked into spending Christmas with the Fells instead of at Hogwarts, but neither Crim nor anyone else could cheer her up. They all tried in their different ways: Dumbledore slipped her a packet of Pucker-Pops, Sharpie challenged her to a game of wizard's chess and let her win, Crim wrote for her a Tolkien fanfiction about an arm-wrestling contest between Gandalf and Sauron, and even Snape eventually hopped on the bandwagon (sort of) by making their class brew Winsome Draughts.

Unfortunately, it all fell flat. Even the sourest Pucker-Pop still had a sweet aftertaste, with the result that Meli was throwing up most of the night. Sharpie had to work so hard at letting her win that it was obvious to everyone, especially the miserable Meli, that he was losing on purpose. The arm-wrestling contest might have amused her somewhat, but if so, she gave no indication whatsoever. And as for the Winsome Draught…well, the results (and not just for Meli's brew) were enough to thoroughly depress Snape. Precision-chopping grubworms proved too difficult for most, and the rest were tripped up by the timing for adding lacewings. It was a relatively simple potion, really, but stir-crazy third years were disposed to make sillier mistakes in the last week of classes before Christmas holiday. This led to an abundance of a mild vomit-inducer (from poorly chopped grubworms) and harmless but powerful perfume (from lacewings being added too soon).

It was Collum, however, who came up with the closest thing to a blues-buster, and he did it by proving that the poorly-wielded pen is mightier than the sword. He also showed himself to be a bit sneakier than anyone (except perhaps Crim) had yet given him credit for being.

"Hey, Meli," he said, dropping into a chair beside her in the common room one night, just under three weeks before holiday. "I need your help with something."

"You're not going to cheer me up, so don't even bother to try." She flipped a page in her book and did not look up.

"Do I have 'IDIOT' stamped across my forehead?" he retorted. "I didn't tell you to snap out of it, did I? I told you I need your help. In other words, I'm lacking in my abilities, and I'd like you to make use of your skills to compensate for the deficiency."

"Oh."

Collum frowned, then leaned forward to read the title of her book. "The Christmas Carol, eh?" He grinned. "Good. Dickens always puts you in a snarky mood."

"Bah," Meli replied flatly. "Humbug."

He snorted. "Try it again," he suggested. "With more feeling this time."

"Good-bye, Collum."

"No, look, I just need some help with a rhyme!" He looked pleadingly at her. "Please, Meli, you're better than I am with this, and I'd say that if you were the happiest person on earth because it's true!"

She sighed but set aside her book. "Fine. What rhyme?"

He showed her the parchment he was writing on. "It's stout that's giving me fits," he told her.

Meli read the page, then looked up to stare at him. "You have got to be kidding," she said, sounding dumbfounded. "Why are you writing this?"

"I'm going caroling," he answered. "How about, 'Cursed with a nasty case of gout'?" He seemed hopeful.

Meli closed her eyes in evident pain. "Unless you're planning on hexing over two hundred students ahead of time," she pointed out, "no. The point of an insult is that it's true, and truth hurts. I assume you're going to follow this up with another rousing chorus of 'How great our joy'?"

Collum nodded.

"Then why not, 'Not often liking to scream and shout'? That is the thing we like best about them, after all. Besides, you don't want to go on record as rejoicing over anyone having the gout."

"True." He scribbled furiously across the parchment and looked up with a grin. "Thanks!" He stood to leave, then turned back. "By the way, Crim and Sharpie are caroling, too."

"Oh." Her nose was already reburied in her book.

"We thought you might like to come," he continued. "Seeing that you've been nominated to sing lead."

Meli's head shot up at a whiplash-inducing rate. "I've been what!" she demanded.

"You're the only soprano!" Collum reminded her. "I can sing bass, and Sharpie does a nice tenor, and Crim's best at harmony, and she's an alto anyway. That leaves you."

"I'm not going caroling," she hissed through her teeth. "And I'm most certainly not singing lead."

"Will you at least help write the songs?"

"No!" She glowered at him, shiny puppy-dog eyes and all. "You're not roping me into anything!"

Collum took the hint and left, but in reality he merely fell back and regrouped; he hadn't actually expected a successful first assault anyway.

It was necessarily slow work, beginning more than a fortnight before Christmas, but Collum eventually got his way. It started with him humming—incessantly—"How Great Our Joy" in the boys' bathroom in Gryffindor. That successfully lodged the tune in the brain of almost every male Gryffindor within the first twenty-four hours, and then they found themselves humming it incessantly everywhere else. Within three days, Meli could not go anywhere in the castle without encountering someone humming the song, and her memory automatically substituted Collum's re-written words for the originals.

Snape was confused and more than a little soured by the whole thing, and he started meting out deplorable punishments for anyone guilty of over-enthusiastic humming—which really meant any humming at all. He was Meli's hero…but then came the final defeat, on the fateful day when she heard Snape humming the song. He stopped as soon as he caught himself, and Meli was sure she saw his eyes widen slightly in horror, but the damage was done.

She tracked down Collum and braced him against the wall. "What will it take for you to stop with that damn song!" she all but screamed.

He gave her his best injured-and-innocent look (which was still not very good). "My dear Miss Ebony, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said calmly.

"Punishing me will not make me want to go caroling with you!"

"Punishing you?" Collum echoed. "Who's punishing you?" His expression cleared. "Oh, but speaking of punishments, how does this sound? 'God rest ye merry, Slytherins, let nothing you dismay. There's time for planting cherry bombs beneath the old sod's sleigh before with all your Christmas gifts he quickly makes away.'"

"Splendid," Meli said through her teeth, then stormed away.

Three days later, everyone was humming "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen".

ooo

Collum had hoped to win by Round Three, but Meli held out through the Slytherin Carol and the Ravenclaw Carol, as well. By the time the Gryffindor Carol (known to everyone else as "Joy to the World") made its rounds, it was three days until holiday, and Meli was considering skipping the Fells' house and spending Christmas in St. Mungo's closed ward.

"I wish you'd at least help him write the bloody things," Crim muttered irritably. "The best he can do is 'Joy to the world, Gryffindor rules'. It's going to be pathetic, but I can't do any better. Have some pity on me, at least—I have to sing the awful thing!"

"No, you don't," Meli countered. "You could always resign in protest."

"Except that the caroling was my idea," Crim told her glumly. "Neither one of them would ever let me hear the end of it if I quit."

Meli rolled her eyes. "That sounds familiar," she sighed sourly.

"Mm."

They sat in silence a moment, then the Gryffindor sighed again. "And I don't suppose Sharpie's much good for moral support?"

The other girl snorted. "It's Sharpie," she replied. "What do you think?"

After over a fortnight of being worn down by over-enthusiastic humming, Meli's defenses were ill-equipped to deal with a friend in despair. The humming, she now realized, had not been the actual attack but rather a series of feints that kept her from recognizing the true weapon: Crimson Fell, her own best friend, who probably had no idea that Collum had set her up as such.

"It's really that bad?" Meli asked, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

Crim nodded, but her eyes suddenly widened in horrified realization. "Don't say it!" she snapped.

"I'll go caroling with you," Meli said, in defiance of the order.

"You're going to let my snot-nosed would-be Hufflepuff of a brother win!"

Meli met her friend's eye and slowly grinned. "No. I'm going to give up one battle and win the war," she replied. "Do you have any of his lyric sheets?"

"In my satchel. He gave us copies." Crim looked narrowly at her. "What, exactly, are you going to do?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to rewrite every single one of them so they're actually worthy of being heard," Meli answered. "Except, possibly, the first verse of the Slytherin Carol—"

"Which I wrote anyway," Crim interrupted.

"And then I'm going to bide my time until seventh year," Meli continued reflectively, "maybe write another carol for each House…and I'll definitely write one from scratch in the meantime. And by hook or by crook, Collum will sing it with the rest of us."

Crim grinned, catching her drift immediately. "Professor Snape," she said, clearly savoring the words. "Brilliant!"

ooo

It required two days of extremely rapid work to rewrite four carols nearly from scratch, but Meli pushed herself and got it done before Collum had even a faint hint that she'd capitulated. His awareness of victory was tragically short-lived, however, for Meli caught him by the chin and looked him dangerously in the eye.

"I'm doing you a favor this time, Fell," she told him grimly. "And actually, I think you owe me anyway. I'll be in touch with you when I want a repayment."

Her fellow Gryffindor nodded jerkily, then glanced at his sister, rubbing his chin ruefully. "Does that mean I overstepped?" he asked in an undertone.

Crim snorted out a laugh. "Collum, if you don't know the answer to that," she muttered back, "I don't see that my telling you will help. Why don't you take the rest of the evening to contemplate your misspent life—before Meli decides to collect a pound of your flesh?"

He did take that evening, as well as a large portion of the following day, and it was observed by a number of people that he was a bit preoccupied at dinner. The students were due to leave the next morning for the train, though, so he was easily lumped in with everyone else whose mind was on going home.

After dinner, the students returned to their Houses, and the Skulkers met outside the library. Once all four were present and accounted for, they pulled out sheaves of parchment and made a beeline for Ravenclaw Tower, singing the proper words to "Frosty the Snowman" as they went. They finished that song just as they came to a halt outside Ravenclaw's common room, the door of which was conveniently open just then (and it was soon propped open once the Ravenclaws heard what the Skulkers were about). The Skulkers bowed in unison, then began a new song:

O come, all ye Ravenclaws,
It's time for Christmas holiday!
So leave ye, oh, leave ye
Your textbooks here.
Go hang your stockings,
Have a rousing snowball fight,
But please forbear to study,
Oh, please refrain from studying,
Oh, please neglect to study,
For Christmas is here!

O come, all ye Ravenclaws!
Spread your Christmas cheer!
Splurge on the eggnog and
The butterbeer.
Research the best recipes
For peppermint and marzipan,
But leave the Potions here,
Oh, leave your Charms book here,
Oh, leave Transfiguration here,
For it's Christmas-time!

O come, all ye Ravenclaws!
We bid you Happy Christmas,
And please have a merry,
Stress-free holiday this year.
Then, when you come back
Calm, relaxed, and joyful,
Remember your friendly Skulkers,
Recall your cheerful Skulkers,
Please thank your beloved Skulkers
For their kind, sage advice!

Had they not made their performance so obviously tongue-in-cheek, the "friendly", "cheerful", and "beloved" Skulkers might have found themselves the targets of a few nasty hexes from some of the more defensive Ravenclaws. As it was, however, their finale was greeted with scattered laughter, a few good-natured jibes, and four very well-aimed popcorn balls, which they neatly caught before going on their way.

A few of the more curious (or bored) Ravenclaws followed as the quartet proceeded to Gryffindor Tower, this time singing "Jingle Bells" They also used the proper words with this song, but Crim and Meli kept breaking off to give editorial comments, which included but were by no means limited to, "How many bloody times do they think they have to tell us it's a one-horse open sleigh!"

Upon their arrival at Gryffindor, Collum whispered the password to the Fat Lady, then himself propped open the door to the common room, allowing all within to hear the carol dedicated to themselves:

Joy to the world!
Christmas is here.
Let Gryffindor lead the way!
In snowball fights
And iceball wars
And caroling
And merry roars,
Let's show them how it's done!
Let's show them how it's done!
Let's show them, let's show them
How Christmas is done!

Joy to the world!
There's paper to shred
And gifts to find beneath!
There's biscuits to bake
And candy to make
And wreaths to hang
And drums to bang!
Let Gryffindor lead the way
Atop a charging sleigh!
Let Gryffindor,
Gryffindor lead the way!

"Joy to the world!"
The Skulkers cry.
Oh, joy to one and all!
May Gryffindors have
A Happy Yule
With lots of gifts
And many duels
And of course some Christmas cheer!
Oh, naturally, Christmas cheer!
Oh, plenty and copious
Christmas cheer!

These wishes were greeted with a number of "merry roars", and the Skulkers added some gingerbread to their pockets and a few Gryffindors to their parade. Now they turned toward the dungeons, and at Meli's insistence (though only Crim had been given a reason for it), they sang the proper words to "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella", finishing that carol outside of Slytherin. Crim obligingly whispered the password and propped open the door to her own common room, after which the Skulkers aired the Slytherin Carol.

God rest ye merry, Slytherins!
Let nothing you dismay;
There's time for planting cherry bombs
Beneath the old sod's sleigh
Before with all your Christmas gifts
He quickly makes away.
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy!
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!

God rest ye merry, Slytherins!
Rack up your lumps of coal.
Pure carbon's good in potions that
Have uses very droll,
Like making little Hufflepuffs
Want to crawl into a hole.
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy!
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!

God rest ye merry, Slytherins!
We bid you Happy Yule.
Have lots of fun this Christmastide,
And let this be your rule:
A sneak well-snuck's as valuable
As a rare and costly jewel.
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy!
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!

This concert earned them a number of smiles from the Slytherins, as well as a round of butterbeers, and when they left, the more observant Slytherins having noticed which Houses were represented in the parade and which was not, the Skulkers gained a large delegation from Slytherin House. The Skulkers, doing a marvelous job of not noticing this minor fact, continued on their way, singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" (with the proper words largely intact; Crim couldn't resist changing the afflicted animal's name to Randolph the Brown-Nosed Reindeer, in transparent and spiteful tribute to a Hufflepuff sycophant well-known and hated by all).

The Skulkers and their sizable following of disciples halted outside the Hufflepuff common room. The Hufflepuffs were obviously quite ignorant of the carol-singers' mission, for, rather than battening down the hatches and barricading the door, they had actually left it wide open in order to share with the school their House Christmas party.

The traveling audience leaned against the wall opposite Hufflepuff's entrance, smirking in anticipation; within the common room, several curious heads turned to face the foursome framed in their doorway.

And the foursome in question happily answered their curiosity.

Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff,
Strong and as sweet as marshmallow fluff.
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy, joy! (Joy, joy, joy!)
Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

They can't compete for cleverness,
Sneakiness, courage, or brazenness.
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy, joy! (Joy, joy, joy!)
Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

There were sudden, unfriendly rustlings in the Hufflepuff common room, and some of the Skulkers' audience members shifted in response, either to the lyrics, which were rather ungracious for the season, or to the apparent threatening movements of some of the Hufflepuffs. Unruffled, the carol-singers continued.

Loyal and true and kind and stout,
Not often liking to scream and shout,
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy, joy! (Joy, joy, joy!)
Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

Without them our school wouldn't be the same;
There'd be no easy-won quidditch games.
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy, joy! (Joy, joy, joy!)
Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

Several of the Ravenclaws bristled, while most of the Slytherins snickered knowingly. There were outraged exclamations now from the Hufflepuffs, particularly the quidditch players, who were feeling a bit sensitive about their abysmal record that year. The Skulkers, however, had not quite done.

And so Happy Christmas to all of you
From all the Skulkers tried and true.
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy, joy! (Joy, joy, joy!)
Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

As if sensing her cue, an irate Sprout now appeared on the scene and, mistaking Meli for the ringleader, seized her by the arm and ordered the others to follow as she dragged the girl down the corridor. To her chagrin, however, the Skulkers had planned for this, and Meli raised her volume to sing out one final stanza:

Away to detention now we go!
Parting is such sweet sorrow!
How great our joy (great our joy).
Joy, joy—OW!

Sprout had angrily jerked at the troublesome student's arm just then. The other Skulkers, however, simply took their cue, shrugged, and, without missing a beat, echoed:

Joy, joy—OW!

Now Meli planted her heels and brought the steaming Sprout to a dead stop. She drew herself up, placing a hand on her breastbone, and in a high, thin voice uttered the final shot:

Oh, how we love dear Hufflepuff!

Sprout dragged her around the corner, and the other Skulkers followed. A number of Slytherins applauded in their wake, and the last sound Meli heard from the scene was the resounding slam of the door to the Hufflepuff common room.

ooo

Sprout deposited the Skulkers in her office, warded the doors against everything short of an atomic blast, and seethed off in search of the Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"I wash my hands of them!" she fumed to Snape and McGonagall. "I leave them to you—I don't trust myself not to kill them all!" She then stormed away to comfort her poor, traumatized Hufflepuffs (as she called them).

Snape and McGonagall exchanged looks.

"They'll have to be punished, of course," the former said slowly.

"Severely," the latter agreed.

Neither one moved.

"It was a very cruel thing to do," McGonagall commented after a long pause.

Snape nodded. "I don't think any of them would be intentionally cruel, though," he replied. "Well, perhaps Pierce would," he added reluctantly.

"And Collum Fell might," McGonagall conceded, also reluctantly. "But not Meli Ebony."

"Or Crimson Fell."

They exchanged looks again.

"I suppose it was a very cruel song," Snape said unenthusiastically.

"But clever, in its way," McGonagall murmured, after glancing around to be sure that no one was about.

Snape raised his eyebrows and looked a touch amused. "Why, Minerva," he drawled, "you're not saying you've actually thought some of those things, are you?"

McGonagall shifted her eyes guiltily. "Not at all," she replied, a little too quickly. "But that's not the point. The point is that the Skulkers must be shown the error of their ways."

"Absolutely," Snape agreed, smirking. "So what do you propose?"

Silence fell and remained for a very long time.

McGonagall at last cleared her throat. "We could give them a lecture," she suggested lamely. "I'd make them write essays about intolerable cruelty, but without exception, they'd write about the assignment rather than their actions."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "That's how they handle detention?"

"They consider detentions holidays," McGonagall grumbled.

"In that case," Snape mused, "it would probably be a punishment not to give them detention."

"Yes, but I think a lecture would go in one ear and out the other," McGonagall pointed out.

"For the boys, perhaps," Snape allowed thoughtfully. "But I think Miss Ebony and Miss Fell might be made to understand eventually. At the very least they'll consider a well-worded argument."

McGonagall sighed decisively. "A lecture, then."

"And a catastrophic point dock," Snape added. "Two hundred each?"

McGonagall blinked. "I think that's a bit severe," she told him. "Two hundred per House, perhaps—it was a very clever song."

Snape narrowed his eyes in approximation of a faint smile. "Agreed."

She looked suspiciously at him. "You're going along with this just a little too easily, Severus," she observed.

"Even Ebenezer Scrooge was touched by the Christmas spirit, Minerva," he replied sardonically. "Shall we go deliver our lecture and have done with it? Otherwise, I may be influenced to go hanging stockings and decking the halls or even, God forbid, a-wassailing."

McGonagall tried—and failed—to repress a smile. "Oh, we can't have that," she said. "By all means, let's go see to the lecture."

ooo

PRESENT: EARLY NOVEMBER

Meli took the opportunity of already being in the dungeons to stop by the Potions room, in hopes of meeting up with Snape. She hadn't seen him since encountering him in the Marauders' company a week before, and she hadn't had a friendly conversation with him since before the discovery of Tinúviel Everett's Penseive over a month ago. While no one had specifically said anything about an improvement in his mood, she considered that enough time had passed to render him safe company again, and in any case, his couldn't be any more dangerous than the company she had just left. She needed a distraction after the near-catastrophic conversation with Zarekael just now.

Snape was not in his office as she had expected but rather in his and Zarekael's private work room—a heavily-warded adjoining the office, in which they brewed some of the more critical potions for the Order, as well as a few illegal ones for Voldemort—and she found him watching the contents of a cauldron with particular intensity. He did not look up as she came in, but he was aware of her entrance, for he slowly raised his left hand in what might have been a greeting.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asked absently.

Meli suppressed a smile. "Of course."

"I need to watch this to ensure that it doesn't boil over, but I've just discovered that I didn't bring enough adder fangs," he told her. "There's a box of them in the bottom drawer of the desk in my office. Would you be kind enough to bring them to me?"

She grinned. "Certainly," she replied, then hesitated as something occurred to her. "Er…you don't mind me being in your desk?" I've already nearly been killed once today, she added silently. I'm not really in a hurry to invite another potentially lethal situation.

His expression altered subtly, but not dangerously. "It's not kept in a place accessible to the students," he countered sardonically. "You need have no fear of disturbing anything in there."

Meli shrugged, but she had no reason to doubt Snape's words—he was hardly the sort of person to toss a private item like a Penseive into his desk and then forget entirely about it. She went into his office confidently, therefore, and found the indicated drawer.

It pulled out with difficulty, though, and by the time she had it open far enough to look for the adder fangs, the contents had shifted around and she found herself picking through a jumble of boxes and packets, most of which were devoted to potions work but some of which were not.

She heard an odd noise amid the various items, like the sound of a glass ball rolling about.

That's all I need, she reflected. First I mess up his drawer, then I manage to break something useful while I'm cleaning it up.

She proceeded more carefully, re-stacking boxes and pushing packets to one side, and when she saw the adder fangs and reached out to pick them up, her hand brushed against something smooth and cold.

It didn't stay cold for long, though; at her touch, it flared warmly to life, and she heard the last thing she would ever have expected: music. Meli listened for a full minute in shock, for she recognized not only the tune but the lyrics and the voices singing them.

The Skulkers, for the briefest of moments, had come back to life.

She waited for the song to play out, then picked up its source—a small sphere just larger than a Remembrall and composed, to all appearances, of frosted glass. It was a Voiskapter, the wizard's equivalent of a tape recorder, and it was nearly eleven years old.

The box in her other hand reminded her of her original errand, and she stood, closing the drawer with her knee as she did. She carried both the adder fangs and the Voiskapter into the work room with her, a smirk securely fixed on her face.

"Why, Severus," she remarked dryly, "I had no idea that little Christmas carol made such an impression on you. You kept our present all these years?"

Snape spared a glance up from the cauldron and returned her smirk as he accepted the adder fangs from her. "Of course I did," he replied. "How often does one have a song written just for him?"

Meli let out a laugh. "Well, I hope you don't mind my having found it," she told him. "It rolled past me in the drawer—which I tidied up as best I could. I made a bit of a mess—sorry."

He shrugged slightly. "I ought to have warned you that the drawer sticks," he answered. "And of all people, you're the one I least mind finding that particular curio."

She set the Voiskapter down on his worktable, carefully making sure that it wouldn't roll and wouldn't be in his way. "Do you know the story of how that recording came to be?" she asked. "I've no doubt you probably figured it out on your own."

"Half a moment." Snape, his eyes never leaving the cauldron, picked up a vial of some nasty-looking green fluid and eased five drops of it into the brew. The potion, which had been frothing violently up until that point, suddenly calmed down to a reasonable simmer. "Mewlip ichor," he informed her, looking up with a half-smile. "Vile stuff, but it works wonders in certain potions." He raised his eyebrows. "So there's a story behind this particular song, is there?"

Meli smirked. "Well, again, you probably know already," she replied. "It all started with the carol-singing third year."

"Hm. Yes." Snape narrowed his eyes in amusement. "You know, of course, that Sprout has never forgiven you for that?"

She snorted. "The only reason she forgave you and Minerva is that she doesn't know the two of you let us off," she retorted. "The poor dear actually thinks you punished us!"

"It must have been quite the effective punishment," Snape returned dryly. "The next time around you wrote an extra carol just for me."

"Our thoughts exactly." Meli fell silent a moment, then shook her head. "I still can't believe you kept this. We sound like chipmunks."

"You sounded like a chipmunk," he corrected. "The others sounded perfectly normal. Which reminds me," he added, "have you always been able to sing as you did at your funeral?"

Meli smiled secretively. "I suppose that's something you'll always wonder," she answered, arching an evil eyebrow.

ooo

CHRISTMAS 1985, SEVENTH YEAR

The rest of the school had next to no warning that the Skulkers were plotting again. In point of fact, only Snape had anything even vaguely resembling a warning, and it was so slight that even he, the Head of Slytherin House, could not fault himself for missing it.

The Skulkers' first move was, unintentionally, to give their favorite teacher a nasty scare. At the end of his last class of the day, Snape went to retrieve some parchments from his classroom desk and found a gift-wrapped cube topped with a tasteful bow.

The Potions master knowing of no one offhand that would choose to deliver a gift in this manner (Dumbledore knew better, and no one else cared), he was more than a little alarmed. Such a package, in his experience, showed great possibility of not being friendly. With that in mind, Snape drew his wand and levitated the package into one of his heavier cauldrons, used for brewing dangerous or touchy potions, then spent the next three hours subjecting it to every single hex- and jinx-detection test he could think of, and several more that he looked up for the purpose.

Once satisfied that the thing wouldn't blow up in his face, Snape carried it into his office, opened it, and stared, dumbfounded, at its contents. It was the most anticlimactic item he could ever have envisioned: a Voiskapter.

Rather a fancy way to deliver a threat, he thought sourly, then reached into the box and gingerly pulled it out.

The crystal sphere warmed at his touch, and silver, blue, and purple mist stirred within it. Snape listened in complete shock as four well-known voices formed the four-part harmony of "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella", though with thoroughly altered lyrics:

Bring a torch—the lights have gone out,
For Meli has had insomnia again.
She blew up her cauldron,
Collapsed half the classroom,
And Professor Snape is at his wits' end
Again. She's left her mark,
Outdone herself,
And given gray hairs again!

Bring a chemist to tremble in awe,
For Collum has stocked his collection again.
It soon will be used in a
Dreadful experiment,
Wreaking pure havoc and losing him points,
For Professor Snape will not let him off
The hook. Oh, no,
He won't let him off at all.

Bring a strait-waistcoat; Flint has gone mad,
For Crimson has helped with his potion again.
Who knew that mayonnaise
Would do that to bats' wings?
She's scrubbing the floors, detention again,
For Professor Snape has given the chance for fun.
He has. She's
Serving detention again.

Bring some duct tape to save Sharpie's life,
For he has been trying to wax snarky again.
He might have survived it,
He might have been spared,
But he is an amateur. Professor Snape
Will take a pro's pride in putting him in his place.
He will, for
He is the snarkiest there is!

Bring the wassail and bring a large tankard.
Wish Happy Christmas to Professor Snape!
He's been awfully patient,
Considering our failings;
If only for that, he's earned a long holiday,
And so we
Bid you a Merry Christmas, sir,
And a Happy and Skulking New Year!

The song faded away, the Voiskapter went dormant, and still Snape stared at it, not at all comprehending what he'd just heard. It was one thing for fellow teachers to wish him Happy Christmas out of a sort of grudging sense of duty; it was slightly different for Dumbledore to speak the words, for though Snape sensed that they were said in pity, at least they were honestly meant.

But for students to go out of their way to say Happy Christmas—much less to write a five-stanza carol toward that end—was unprecedented, unlooked-for, unexpected, and…well, unusually welcome.

No one, least of all Snape, would at that moment have characterized his mood as "warm and fuzzy", but his earlier fear and paranoia were lost in the wake of something like gratitude. What he held in his hand was not just a Voiskapter; it was the touch of grace—unlooked-for, but utterly precious.

He slowly and carefully returned it to its box, then walked to the desk in his office, where he opened the bottom drawer and placed the Voiskapter reverently inside.

Some things were far too precious to be thrown away or even just set aside; this was one of them.

ooo

The rest of the school received its own portent of things to come the following morning at breakfast. It was the last day of classes before Christmas holiday, and no one's mind was on learning, but neither was anyone's mind on merriment; there was, after all, still a very long day ahead. The Skulkers, however, were, as always, the exception to any particular rule.

Ten minutes into breakfast, the four pranksters came leaping and twirling through the doorway of the Great Hall, dancing and singing and generally making a merry little spectacle of themselves. Meli and Crim were waving tambourines in time to the song, while Collum and Sharpie kept time with obnoxiously loud sleigh bells, but none of the jingling noises could drown out the lyrics, which they sang at the top of their lungs to the tune of "I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing In":

I saw the Skulkers prancing in
To Hufflepuff, to Ravenclaw.
I saw the Skulkers dancing in
To Gryffindor in the morning.

The Hufflepuffs were packing bags
To meet the train, to meet the train.
The Hufflepuffs were readying bags
To meet the train in the morning.

The Slytherins slipped past Gryffindor
On Christmas Eve, on Christmas Eve.
We'll see what Father Christmas is in
For Christmas Day in the morning.

The Gryffindors had a Happy Yule
On Christmas Eve, on Christmas Day,
And challenged Santa to a duel
On Christmas Day in the morning.

The Ravenclaws were caroling
On the eve of Christmas holiday.
The Ravenclaws still were wassailing
When holiday started next morning.

The faculty were having fun
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day.
The teachers knew their work was done
For Christmas Day in the morning!

Having finished this song and dance recital, the Skulkers pranced back out the way they had come, leaving a pensive dead silence in their wake. No one, especially the Hufflepuffs, had forgotten their Christmas antics four years before, and now that it appeared that the Skulkers hadn't, either, no one—especially the Hufflepuffs—wanted to consider what was coming next.

The Skulkers let them stew over that question all day before finally showing their cards after dinner that evening, at which point they sashayed from the library to Ravenclaw Tower, singing "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" in beautiful four-part harmony.

The Ravenclaws, who had more or less been expecting them, were gathered in their common room with the door propped open, and the Skulkers found that their audience was quite captivated before they started singing, if only because everyone was wondering what would come out of their mouths next.

Meli and Crim traded smirks, then nodded to the boys and began:

Here we come a-wassailing
To Ravenclaw so true.
Here we come a-singing
To bring some joy to you.
Leave your books when you go.
When you come back, don't you know
They'll still be here and ready to be read,
Oh, yes, indeed!
They'll still be here and ready to be read.

Now go forth from Ravenclaw
To have a Happy Yule.
Be studious at rest,
Relaxation, and renewal.
"Happy Christmas to you,"
All the cheerful Skulkers croon,
And we bid you a Happy New Year, too,
Oh, yes we do!
And we bid you a Happy New Year, too!

Come with us a-caroling
And spreading Christmas cheer.
Ravenclaws have lovely voices
All of Hogwarts ought to hear.
No one studies hard as you,
But you have marvelous parties, too,
So we know you know how to have some fun,
Most certainly!
So join in, and let's show them how it's done!
Come caroling!
Oh, join in, and let's show them how it's done!

Several of the Ravenclaws did just that, so the Skulkers picked up a respectable following right from the off. They led the way, not to Gryffindor as many of their followers had expected, but to Slytherin, and instead of singing a song, proper or altered, along the way, three of the Skulkers fell silent and allowed Crim to preach rather a lengthy homily. It was not a particularly religious homily by any means but rather a rehashing of one of her projects from a prior Christmas: a recitation of everything that was wrong with Father Christmas.

That prior project had earned her a nasty detention from Filch, but no one remembered that. All anyone recalled about Christmas the Skulkers' fifth year was Ninety-Five Theses Against the Fur-Trimmed Troll, which Crim had nailed to the Great Hall doors, largely for entertainment but ostensibly in a thought-out protest.

On finding them, Dumbledore had merely pointed out the irony that a Roman Catholic was carrying on in the Lutheran tradition, to which Crim had primly replied that Luther had done a passable job, but it remained for a Catholic to show the world how it was properly done—and in any case, she pointed out, Luther had considered himself a Catholic to the end.

So now, two years later, she regaled them all with the list of Father Christmas' many and sundry evils, which included but were by no means limited to: breaking and entering, theft of gifts (which he then replaced under the tree as if they were originally from him rather than the giver), exploitation of animals and house elves, failure to travel with a valid passport, failure to clear customs at borders, breaking of necessary and proper speed limits, and permitting the composition of any number of horrible songs about himself which were then inflicted on the world—most notably "Santa Baby", which sent Crim into near-convulsions every time she heard it.

The vocal Skulker delivered this speech with an amazingly stable deadpan, but her audience was in stitches by the time they ended their march to the dungeons, and the carol-singers had to pause for a good five minutes while the Ravenclaws laughed themselves out. Once they were sure of being heard, Sharpie opened the door to Slytherin, and the concert resumed, this time to the tune of "He Has Come, the Holy Child".

Winter graces the frosty ground.
Light the Yule log
And make your cherry bombs.
Santa comes to Slytherin House.
Hie we away to waylay his sleigh!

No one sees what a problem it is
That Santa takes what we want to give.
Then the nasty fur-capped troll
Leaves us only lumps of coal!
Winter graces the frosty ground.
Light the Yule log
And make your cherry bombs.
Santa comes to Slytherin House.
Hie we away to waylay his sleigh!

Skulkers know just how it feels
When the prat our presents steals.
Under one banner now unite,
And back to Santa we'll take the fight!
Winter graces the frosty ground.
Light the Yule log
And make your cherry bombs.
Santa comes to Slytherin House.
Hie we away to waylay his sleigh!

A happy holiday to you all
As you bring about the old sod's downfall.
Have your fill of holiday cheer,
And we'll see you all back at school next year!
Winter graces the frosty ground.
Light the Yule log
And make your cherry bombs.
Santa comes to Slytherin House.
Hie we away to waylay his sleigh!

Coming as it did directly after Crim's sermon, this carol could not help but elicit a healthy round of applause from the Ravenclaws, and the Slytherins, who had heard her grumbling in-House about Father Christmas for a week beforehand, also parted with several amused cheers. The Skulkers added another dozen or so to their caravan, then took the long way out of the dungeons, singing the proper words to "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella" as they marched past the Potions classroom. They followed this up with a sulky rendition of "Sleigh Ride", which Meli considered the bane of her winter existence and rather enjoyed butchering, ending in front of the Fat Lady, who looked as if she couldn't decide what she thought of the whole thing. She did, however, obligingly open the door when given the password by Collum.

"The tune," Crim announced, turning to the crowd behind her, "is 'Angels We Have Heard on High'. If you know the proper counter-melody, feel free to join in—just be sure to use the syllable ah, as we've improved the words a bit."

There were several snickers, which the Skulkers ignored, choosing instead to launch into the New Gryffindor Carol.

Gryffindors unite to cry,
"Christmas time is here again!"
Joyous songs reach to the sky;
Let the holiday begin!
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, we sing,
Let the Christmas bells ring!
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, we sing,
Let the Christmas bells ring!

Charge we home to see the gifts
Hid from Father Christmas' eyes.
If he even one doth lift,
We'll greet him with a nasty surprise.
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, o-oh, we'll kick off the Yule
With a happy duel!
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, o-oh, we'll kick off the Yule
And the light-fingered fur-clad fool!

Come with us, dear Gryffindors,
As Ravenclaws and Slyth'rins have,
Caroling from door to door,
Spreading cheer and happy laughs.
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, Happy Gryffindor Noël,
From Pierce and Ebony and Fells!
Oh! O-o-o-o-oh, o-o-o-o-oh, Happy Gryffindor Noël,
The Skulkers wish you merry and well!

They took rather a long break at Gryffindor, due first to a round of cider (which extended even to the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, most of whom had broken off in mid-serenade to snicker), then to a round of questions about what was coming next. The Skulkers skillfully evaded the latter and quite enjoyed the former, and between the four of them they sparked enough diabolical curiosity to draw most of Gryffindor out for a sing-along on the way to Hufflepuff.

On their arrival, they found that substantial delegations from Ravenclaw and Slytherin were waiting for them—as were, they could not help but see, all four Heads of House and Dumbledore himself.

Sprout was already an unattractive shade of purple, and Flitwick was an unhealthy shade of pink, though it was clear to all that he was trying to suppress laughter while his counterpart was attempting to repress violence. McGonagall's jaw was painfully clenched, and none of the Skulkers could be certain that it wasn't a grin she was biting down on. Snape, by contrast, made no effort to hide his smirk, and while Dumbledore dutifully gave them a warning look, they saw that his eyes were twinkling madly.

Now it was Meli who turned to address the assembly, while Crim rapped at Hufflepuff's door. "Nine words that will be of great importance to you all in the near future," she told them. "'Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la'."

The Hufflepuffs, predictably did not open the door, but they were also unaware that there were five teachers in the vicinity, at least one of whom had no need to hide his interest in the New Hufflepuff Carol, and all of whom possessed the passwords to all of the common rooms.

Snape had contrived to stand near enough to the door that, while Sprout could not hear him speak, the door could, and within a few seconds of the Skulkers' first failure, the door creaked open, to the discernible dismay of everyone in the common room beyond.

The Skulkers knew better than to tip the hand that fed them, so, without a look at Snape, but with innocent smiles to Sprout, they commenced.

Christmas comes to Hufflepuff
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Biscuits, gifts, and all that stuff
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Go we now to meet the train
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Singing out the sweet refrain
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la

Speak we now in generalities
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Lest you question our morality
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Though we would like a detention
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Instead we'd prob'ly get a suspension
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la

To judge by the look on the now-eggplant-colored Sprout's countenance, the Skulkers were probably going to get either or both of those punishments anyway if the Head of Hufflepuff House could arrange it. Fortunately, Dumbledore's growing smile assured them that she probably would not be able to make those particular arrangements.

Have a Happy Hufflepuff Christmas
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Conducting badger holiday business
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la
Skulkers now give you a present
Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la

Here the Skulkers paused and looked directly at Sprout, wide and not entirely sane grins on their faces. Then, at a signal from Meli, the four of them shouted at the top of their lungs:

Today we won't say anything unpleasant!

And then they led almost the entire school in a rousing, final chorus of:

Fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la!

ooo

Sprout did, indeed, make a worthy effort at having the Skulkers punished for the carol, but when Dumbledore pointed out that nothing even remotely insulting had been said in the course of it—and the other three Heads of House backed him in that assessment—she ungraciously withdrew her petition. From that time on, she had nothing civil to say to any of the Skulkers, and years later, some of them had separate opportunities to observe that her treatment of them near the end of their time at Hogwarts was really not so different from their most admired teacher's treatment of the Boy Who Lived.

Of course, as Crim would readily have pointed out, the Skulkers had at least earned what they got.

ooo

FURTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks go out to Omaha Werewolf for your review. I see what you mean about leaving some mystery for the reader to figure out; that's something I admit I have trouble doing. It's not so much that I specifically want to spell everything out, but I have this fear, probably irrational, of skipping over something that's actually important and leaving the reader squashed flat on the highway wondering where the hell that lorry came from. I had that happen all the time when I was a child (ever seen a piss-poor movie interpretation of an Agatha Christie novel? I saw a few too many at a formative age), so I guess it stuck with me. However, I will take this to heart; I promise for the future: more mystery, less deduction. Of course, admittedly, I sort of have an advantage here because I think this is the last time, at least for awhile, that Meli feels the need to play Sherlock Holmes.

And as far as brevity goes…well, this, being a rather long chapter, might not be the best place to address that, but what the hell. I actually am trying very hard to shave down many of these scenes, but I have recently discovered two disadvantages: Snarky also likes Dickens, so neither of us really catches everything we could…and I'm simultaneously working on another story in which I went way too far with keeping it brief and now have to expand. So between having a Dickensian collaborator and being in the middle of an expanding spree, I'm going a bit schizo. However, again, I promise to do better.

Silverthreads- Thanks also for your reviews. I'm sorry to say that, according to Snarky and me, at least, there are, alas, only three Evans sisters, so we will not be seeing Daisy, Rose, or Violet (I'm particularly bummed about leaving out Violet, but oh, well). And, just to let you know, this chapter's brief departure from the main plot was a little vacation, nothing more; starting next chapter, you'll get rather more story than you probably bargained for.

Again, thanks for taking the time to read, and thank you for your reviews!
AE