'Twas the night...
'Twas the night before classes, when all through the castle,
Few creatures was stirring, owls to mice were a hassle.
The bookbags lay open, books, scrolls, quills a jumble,
In hopes the school would delay classes, the teens mumbled.
The students were sprawled all snoring in bed,
While visions of missed friends played in their heads.
And Snape in his robes, all cast in black,
Had just stifled a yawn, due to a long winter's trek.
When in the Great Hall there arose such a clatter,
He sprang to the door to see what was the matter.
Away to the floor he flew with a crash,
Tearing his robe and his noggin he cracked.
The moon on the crest of the window sill peaked,
Giving fangs to the beast which beneath it did sleep.
When what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a blue glowing stag, running way, way too near.
With raven black hair and eyes glowing green,
I knew in a moment it was the young needy teen.
More rapid than shadows he flew to my side
And he smacked, and he shouted, and called me by name!
"Wake Snape! Wake! Please Professor, wake!
Come on! Get up! Now up off the floor!
To the top of the bench. To sitting up tall.
Not backwards! Lean forward! Don't fall!"
As dry as fall leaves my throat did cry,
When met with my voice that refused to comply.
To my wand flew my fingers,
Conjuring whiskey, two fingers.
And then, in a twinkling, a riddikulus was said,
Then the request for food from a girl dressed in red.
I lifted my head and turned it around,
A growling, gray, granny in a bed I found.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his paws,
And his clothes were a night dress, his slippers hid claws.
A bundle of food he had sat in his lap,
And he looked like a lion eating a snack.
His eyes-how they gleamed! His snarl how nasty!
His teeth were like thorns, his snout dripping ghastly!
His droll frightening mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as gray as city snow.
The stump of a chicken leg he held tight in his teeth,
And the flowered night cap encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a long, narrow face and a lean predators frame,
That shook when he snarled and moved to take aim.
He was a contradictory mix, a wolf in a dress,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of distress!
A flick of my wand and a twist of my wrist,
Then the wolf was no more than a figure of mist.
We spoke not a word, but we turned and we grinned,
No more than a Boggart, the fear of two men.
The professor's eyes narrowed, "A Patronus?"
The teen gave a nod, "By Lupin was taught."
"Out this late?!" They both exclaimed,
"Plots and plans, I'm on a mission." The duo explained.
A nod of each head and each walked away,
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he swirled out of sight,
"Detention this evening, no prowling at night!"
If it wasn't already obvious, this was an odd rendition of the Night Before Christmas by Clemente Clarke Moore, with a bit of Red Riding Hood tossed in.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.