Twas the night before Yuletide, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
Those vermin were hung by the chimney with care,
A snack for the Krampus, who soon would be there;
.
Snape was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of does danced in his head;
Dressed in his nightshirt, having downed his nightcap,
He'd just settled down for a long solstice nap,
.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
He sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a bat,
Tore open the shutters and scared a stray cat.
.
The moon on the breast of the concrete-grey snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But three nosy wiccans in caroling gear.
.
The first stared at him, his tongue working quick,
"Oh bloody hell, it's the house of that prick".
More rapid than light, Snape stretched out his frame,
And he snarled, and shouted, and called them by name;
.
"Now Potter, now Weasley, now Granger - begone!
Pick up your s—, and get off my lawn!
Don't tarnish my porch! Don't spatter my wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
.
As Snitches before their Seekers do fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So back up the street, like Snitches they flew,
First the red-head named Weasley, then Potter did, too.
.
They turned to find Granger, her arms crisscrossed tight,
A look that suggested they hadn't done right.
"Come on now Granger, you heard the old sod,
Let's sing our carols in some other quad."
.
"It's Professor Snape," Granger said with a huff,
"Besides, don't you think you've locked horns quite enough?
Your taunts, and your jokes, and your squabbles end here,
Can't you all act like grown-ups, at least once a year?'
.
'Or have you forgotten that Yuletide's about,
Forgiving, and sharing, and just helping out?
Go on, but I'll stay, and I'll visit his home,
For no one should spend the hols all alone."
.
Admitting she's right, they flew up in a poof,
And landed straight on Professor Sod's roof,
They drew their arms in, and turned thrice around,
Then down the chimney they came with a bound.
.
In flew the trio, and what did they see?
Neither Yuletide feast nor a bright Yuletide tree;
Mice by the fireside hung down like stockings,
Wax candles on mugs that were once filled with toddy.
.
It was a disaster, his somber decor,
As sad as the toilet seat hung o'er the door.
Garlands made out of dreadful essays,
Decked out the halls in a dreary display.
.
Each spoke not a word, but went straight for their wand,
And started to fix what did not correspond.
A scrawny coat-rack made a fine, prickled tree,
The bottles of toddy turned to mash and turkéy.
.
They hung a bright wreath on the weathered, oak door,
Spread a red, shaggy carpet right on the floor,
Charmed the mice into stockings, then turned with a jerk;
As Snape cast a side-eye over their work.
.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
But his nightie was tarnished with ashes and soot;
The posture corrector strapped tight to his back,
Was the last thing holding his patience intact.
.
His eyes - how they blackened! His scowl was not merry!
The varicose veins stained his legs like bluebérries.
His bushy, black brows were drawn up like a bow,
And covered with dandruff, all white as the snow.
.
"Well, what do you think?" asked Granger with glee,
"Now your home looks much nicer, you'll have to agree.
I thought since we've been out of school for a while,
Let's forget the past, it's time we reconcile."
.
Snape let out a groan and gritted his teeth,
As he looked at the tree, and the feast, and the wreath;
A twitch of his eye and a twist of his head,
Filled the three grown wiccans with genuine dread.
.
"If you want to show me that you give a f—,
By filling my home with this...saccharine muck,
You've wasted your efforts. I'm barely impressed.
Now scram before I can arrange your arrest."
.
Feeling dejected (and totally peeved),
They picked up their wands and took their quick leave.
It was Weasley who dealt the finishing blow,
By mouthing to Granger, "See? I told you so."
.
Snape stood in silence enjoying the sound,
The happened when there were no Potters around;
No Weasleys, no Grangers, no holiday muck,
Just the low, distant hum of a snow-dumping truck.
.
How droll that those three should before him appear,
Four years hence their last formal scholarly year,
And in which of their lobes did the word 'reconcile',
Connect to the prof whom they've always found vile?
.
Before he dismounted each fun decoration,
He suddenly came to a realization,
Perhaps in four years, their dunce lobes did extend,
Perhaps he should also start making amends.
.
Or else, with a temper as bad as his own,
Even the Krampus won't throw him a bone.
So he buttoned his cloak, through the snow he did roam,
To bring Potter, Weasley and Granger back home.
.
When he found them, singing beside some drunk bum,
With their hands turning blue, and their fingers quite numb,
Clutching a jubilant carol's notes,
With a temperate tone, he stopped and he spoke.
.
"Unless you want to freeze your fingers right off,
Come along, right before you catch a whooping cough."
One look at Granger's magnificent scowl,
Suggested they weren't set to throw in the towel.
.
"That's not an apology. Tell us, frankly, what gives?
Why do you hate the holidays, us, and our gifts?"
Snape paused for a moment, hung his head down low,
And recalled pleasant mem'ries of Yuletides long ago.
.
He thought and he thought, as he scratched his black hair,
But pleasant memories just were not there.
His shoulders he shrugged, and said in a glum tone,
"I suppose it's because I've always celebrated alone."
.
The trio stayed quiet, but one spoke for all three,
Granger thought for a moment, then made her decree.
To go back to Snape's, and make lots of noise,
And have the professor make peace with the boys,
.
To throw a big party, unwrap gifts by the tree,
And show the old grump what joy Yuletide can be,
But at eleven sharp, the hubbub should be done,
To observe the UK Noise Act of nineteen ninety-six, section two, subsection one*.
.
Despite what the do-gooders say without fear,
On that cold Yuletide night, Krampus did appear.
He knocked down some lamposts, and darkened the street,
Peaked into Snape's home, and gave a loud bleat.
.
What he saw was a sight that made his goat-skin crawl,
Four wiccans were dancing and having a ball.
Their home was so merry, their smiles were so bright,
That he shielded his eyes (for it gave him a fright).
.
But the Krampus' supper was quite unfulfilling,
For he'd not met his quota of juvenile killing.
While he preferred children, three young adults would do,
(Especially since new neurological research suggests that the human brain is still developing past twenty-two).
.
Oh, he'd roar, and he'd rumble, and raise up a riot,
And add those three wiccans to his demon diet.
Before he could give the glass windows a frap,
One of his gremlins gave his shoulder a tap.
.
It pointed one quivvering claw to the Heavens,
Where the large city clock had just struck eleven.
The Krampus' tongue clicked in quick agitation,
For even foul spirits must abide by the UK legislation.
.
He sprang to his hooves, gave his gremlins a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
He grimly exclaimed, ere he galloped from sight,
WRETCHED YULETIDE TO ALL, AND TO ALL A DIRE-NIGHT!