A/N: So, the end of this chapter was rewritten. Thanks to pudella's review, I realized how fast the story was moving, and realized that it was moving waaaaay too quickly. So I decided it was time to put pen to paper and start the beginning of the end of this story. Not sure how many more chapters it will be, but hopefully I won't leave you hanging like I did before. As always, enjoy and R&R!

CHAPTER 4: THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

Halloween had been quite a letdown for many of the students. Not only had Professor Cimmerii refused to conduct the bats around the hall, she hadn't shown up at the feast. Professor Dumbledore said that she was feeling under the weather, but nobody could ignore the fact that Professor Snape's chair had also been empty during the celebrations.

More rumors began to fly through the hallways throughout the month of November and into December, speculating that Morgana and Snape were having an affair and didn't want anybody to know about it. Both teachers were amused by the wild idea, but they hid their emotions from each other and the students. As it was, they were both very confused about what exactly had passed between them during that moment after the Dueling Club.

Snape knew that he didn't want to think about it. He pushed the memory back into the far recesses of his mind to collect dust and cobwebs, like so many other unwanted memories. He knew he had tried to kiss her – he knew he had desperately wanted to – but he could not bring himself to face the simple truth that this brought to light. He was more disagreeable than ever as a result.

He had many reasons for hating all the people he did. Hermione Granger, for instance, was too smart for her own good and was always irritating him. He loathed Harry Potter simply because of who his father had been, and how "friendly" they had been at school.

Miss Cimmerii was a different story. He hated her because he was so attracted to her. He hated her because she was so intelligent, so graceful, and so incredibly beautiful that he knew in his heart of hearts that it was hopeless to resist her. He hated her because he cared about her in a way he hadn't felt possible.

November hadn't been the best of months, weather-wise and tension-wise. It rained practically every day, and when it wasn't raining, it was so cold outside that it was pointless to venture outside the castle walls. The dungeons were always cold, but they had become so icy that even Snape, who usually didn't mind the chill, had decided to take his breaks up in the Great Hall. With its several roaring fires, it was the warmest room in the castle.

This change of scenery, however, proved to be a bad idea, because Morgana had found a boggart in one of the trunks by the fireplace closest to the staff table, and had brought all of her third year classes to fight it. Of course, it was only after her first class had been dismissed that she noticed Snape was watching them. She had then become so flustered that when she faced her own boggart (a rather terrifying man with red eyes, pale skin, and the same brown hair as Morgana that Snape could only assume that it was her father), she screamed and stood frozen for a few moments before shouting "Riddikulus!" and laughing uneasily as the boggart disintegrated into a pile of ash.

So Snape, grimacing, had retreated to the staff room.

Snape had begun to take his rage out on his students, for lack of anyone else to be cruel to. He was generally rude to anyone who wasn't in his own house, but lately he had even been yelling at Slytherins in the hallways just for talking. He had been so tempted to drown Potter in his own cauldron during Potions one Friday, but instead snapped a ruler against the side of the pewter vessel and watched in glee as one of the sharper splinters gave the annoying prat a cut across the cheek.

His mood did not improve at all during the month of December. A potion he was making his fourth years make required ground vanilla beans, a scent that Snape had come to associate with Morgana, and he subsequently failed everyone. With Christmas around the corner, the house elves had begun to put up garlands of holly and mistletoe wherever they saw fit; four times on the day many of the students were leaving for the holidays, he had caught students sucking face in the hallways. All four houses' points had been reduced to double digits from Snape's evident rage.

"Severus?" Dumbledore's calming voice echoed from the hallway outside his office.

"Enter," Snape said, waving his hand at the door.

The Headmaster was the only bright thing in the room besides the candle on Snape's desk. He was dressed in robes of bright red, with white lining. He was obviously trying to imitate St. Nicholas. "Aren't you just a bit cold down here, Severus?" he asked, smiling.

"Not in the least, Headmaster," Snape lied, a shiver running down his spine.

Dumbledore smiled. "It's Christmas Eve, Severus. Come join the rest of us in the Hall," he requested, gesturing towards the door.

Snape looked up from the tests he was grading and laid the quill on the desk. He stared blankly at Dumbledore, searching for some hidden reason for why he should join in the festivities when the old man knew he was against such things.

"Miss Cimmerii has remained at the school," Dumbledore said offhandedly, suddenly becoming interested in his fingernails.

Snape's eyes widened and he could have sworn his heart had just leapt into his throat. Why did Dumbledore think that the mention of Morgana would make him want to join the party? "Has she?" he asked in a bored tone.

Dumbledore's eyes glittered knowingly. "She was wondering where you were," he said quietly.

Snape's jaw dropped, much to Dumbledore's amusement. "I'll – I'll be there in a moment," he muttered.

"Excellent." Dumbledore stepped out into the hall before doubling back. "Oh, we're giving our presents tonight, by the way." With that, he left the Potions Master in a state of disarray.

Morgana was on her third glass of elf-made wine. She knew it would take a lot more to get her drunk, but a little voice inside her head was telling her that she needed to slow down.

He's going to think you're a slob if you drench your new dress in red wine, she thought as she placed the glass down on the table.

After the students had gone up to bed, Dumbledore called the staff into the Great Hall and suggested that they have a small Christmas party. Most of the staff had agreed to this and returned a few minutes later in their dress robes. Professor Snape was not among them.

Morgana had been fighting her feelings for the Potions Master ever since that strange night after the dueling fiasco. She had been so attracted to him at school that she flat out denied it. He was so powerful, so smart, so handsome…and instead she was a complete bitch to him. And it was the same now, although she was more accepting about her feelings nowadays.

But vampire love could turn nasty. Her mother was a perfect example; she had so many bite marks from her father it was amazing someone didn't call the police on them. It was dangerous to get involved with someone – something – like Morgana.

But who says Severus isn't up for a little danger? She smirked at the thought of him willingly allowing her to bite him.

"Severus will be here momentarily," Dumbledore whispered as he re-entered the hall.

The shock that shot through Morgana's body was enough to make her drop her glass, and she watched it shatter as it hit the floor and sprayed her green gown with red. She sighed and wished she could slap herself without allowing people to see. "Reparo," she uttered, and the glass was back in its original state, sans wine.

"Clumsy, aren't we?" a soft voice said from behind her.

Morgana's stomach tightened so much she thought she might scream. She turned to face Snape, who was smirking with pride at the obvious effect his voice alone had had on her. "It's nice to see you too, Severus," she said, her voice shaky.

"Is it?" He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, his black eyes glittering.

Morgana did not answer. She knew what he was looking for, what he wanted her to say, and her obvious answer was yes, it was nice to see him. But she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of knowing. Not yet, anyway.

"Ah, he's here! Everyone gather round, we can start handing out presents now!" Dumbledore exclaimed rather like an overly excited first year.

Morgana followed the rest of the teachers to the large bag that Dumbledore had left in the middle of the hall. His long white beard trailed on the floor as he bent over to pull a few boxes out and place them on the table. He looked at the tags hanging off the ribbons and called out several of the professors' names, handing them their gifts.

"Morgana, these three are yours," he said, and three average sized boxes were placed in her pale hands.

She took a seat as Dumbledore said, "Severus, here's yours!" and looked at the tags on each of her presents. The first one, wrapped in dark blue, was from her mother; the second was from Dumbledore and was wrapped in gold. The third, wrapped in dark green and tied with a silver bow…was from none other than Professor Severus Snape.

Her eyes widened as she looked quizzically at the package. Why in the world would he get her a gift? She looked up and peered across the hall at him. He was giving his gift the same confused look. Morgana blushed and quickly looked away, and tore through the wrapping paper. It took every ounce of willpower for her not to shriek in laughter, for inside was a twelve-pack of Honeydukes own Blood-Flavored Lollipops.

"How thoughtful," she muttered as she put the box aside and opened her other two gifts; her mother had sent her a few new records (Beethoven, Chopin, and Mozart) and Dumbledore had given her the greatest gift box of sweets ever. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocoballs, Chocolate Frogs, a Fizzing Whizbee, sugar quills…the list went on. She had enough candy to last her until school was over, and then some.

She glanced back over at the lollies Snape had given her, and plucked one out of the package. She grimaced; it was very sweet, much too sweet to be real blood, but close enough all the same.

Shortly afterwards, the party ended and the teachers dispersed to their appropriate rooms, each carrying a few presents in their hand and either sipping on a bottle of butterbeer or enjoying a piece of candy. Snape seemed to have disappeared; Morgana felt a little disappointed that he hadn't lingered, but perhaps she would see him later.

She said her goodbyes and goodnights, and returned to her dormitory, only to feel a strong desire to visit the Astronomy Tower. It took her a few minutes to climb the long staircase to the top, and when she arrived and took a deep breath, her heartbeat settled down. She leaned against the battlements; a light snow had begun to fall over the grounds, and each flake that landed on her bare hands seemed to take forever to melt.

Well, that's what happens when your body temperature is incredibly low, she thought, smiling.

"Aren't you cold?"

Morgana didn't turn around; there was no need. "No," she said as her smile widened. She saw a tall black form rest its hands on the stone parapet, his robes fluttering out behind him in the breeze. "It takes a lot for a vampire to get cold."

"And a whole lot more for her to get warm, I dare say," Snape whispered silkily.

Morgana blushed, embarrassed. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to ignore the heat growing between her legs. "Thank you, by the way," she said, breaking the awkward silence between them.

"For what?"

"The lollies."

Snape grinned. "Oh, those. I thought you might like them," he said, shrugging. He turned to face her and asked, "So how were they?"

"They're a bit on the sweet side," Morgana admitted, aware that every inch of her was dying for him to hold her.

"You don't like sweets?" he asked in a rather husky tone.

Morgana groaned. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered, staring at him longingly.

"Doing what?" he asked innocently.

"If you want to do it, just do it!" she cried.

"Do what?" he said, a mischievous smile playing across his face.

Morgana couldn't restrain herself any longer. She grabbed the collar of his robe and pulled his face close to his, and kissed him. She could feel Snape melting into her as his lips touched hers. She imagined that her lips were quite cold compared to his, which were surprisingly warm. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, deepening their embrace. She released her hold on his collar and ran a hand through his black hair, entangling her delicate fingers into it.

All the while, Morgana was desperately trying to ignore the burning sensation accompanying his touch, and slowly, her lips moved from his, down his chin, to rest on his neck, where she continued to plant soft, supple kisses. She listened to his breathing, as it became heavier with the increased rate of his heartbeat, which was pounding in her ears, sending her into an unstable frame of mind. Quickly Snape's breathing faded, and all Morgana could hear was the roaring of his heart, the rush of blood that poured through veins mere millimeters beneath his pale flesh.

Her eyes darkened and she curled her upper lip, revealing pearly white – and dagger-like – eyeteeth. Slowly, her open mouth descended and grazed the skin on the Potion Master's neck, before –

"What the hell are you doing!"