~Written for the QLFC, Season 5, Finals Round 2~

Position: Seeker

Position Prompt: S: Severus Snape, Slytherin Common Room, Snake, Sweater

Title: A Pit of Snakes and Horses

Word Count: ~1700

Beta(s): CUtopia, DinoDina,

Chapter 16: A Pit of Snakes and Horses

The Slytherin Common Room was, reputedly, a dark and gloomy abode. And, for all intents and purposes, it was. Even its residents acknowledged that fact. The stone walls, the stone floors, each covered by sparse drapings of curtains, tapestries and rugs, provided little relief from the chill that pervaded it. Even the Warming Charms couldn't wholly stave off the cold that descended in winter.

The leather couches were hard and just short of uncomfortable. The fire cracked in a small, reserved flame nearly as green as that of a Floo connection. A narrow, spiralling stairwell led to each of the dorms, and the pervasive quiet was unshakeable even when the wealth of Slytherin housemates descended upon it full-throttle. Pureblood decorum necessitated such reserve.

The Slytherin Common Room wasn't a warm place – or not usually. Yet even purebloods would rise to the occasion at Christmas.

Excitement ran rampant through the room as the first day of the holiday welled in all of its snowy, muffling grandeur. The dungeons seemed to descend to an even colder degree with such weather, and not a single housemate didn't suffer just a little bit. Or not usually, for the first day of the holidays found running feet and bubbling excitement that warmed chilled fingers with excitement and staved off freezing to the bone.

A girl with neat braids hastened through the disappearing entrance into the room. A pair of young men in their final year chatted animatedly before the hearth, hands waving in excited gestures. A cluster of first years all but bounced in place as they huddled around their own trunks, awaiting permittance to leave for the Hogwarts Express and the Christmas to follow.

There was joy. And excitement. Excited joy the likes of which the Slytherin Common Room rarely bore witness too. And everyone participated in that delight – except for one.

Severus Snape had wedged himself into the only single armchair in the room. It was an unfavourable seat, and mostly because it was as far from the hearth as could be reached, but Severus didn't hate it. Or not much, anyway. Besides, he appreciated the shadows that draped around him, disguising even the murky portraits that framed the chair. They were good enough company, he considered. Good enough for one who didn't have any other.

"They look so stupid," he muttered, more to himself than the portraits. "Getting so excited. It looks ridiculous."

A girl with a long nose that she always used to best effect in assuming condescension strode past and didn't spare Severus a glance. He shrunk a little further into his armchair nonetheless. "What's the point in being so happy about everything? Christmas isn't even all that great."

Another first year scampered past, nearly tripping on the hem of his robes as he hastened to join his cluster of friends. He drew a little too closely to Severus, and Severus instinctively drew his knees up to his chest, stretching his worn and weary sweater over the top of them as he always did to huddle in his own warmth. He would likely be considered too old by his housemates to sit as such, but he didn't care.

"Stupid kids," he muttered, lip curling as he watched the boy burst into laughter in the company of his friends moments later. "They're always so happy about the dumbest things."

A rustle at his side announced the motion of the portrait to his left, a clip of a hoof the one at his right, but Severus didn't glance towards them. He regarded the room with narrow-eyed intent, as derisive as ever, and even more so that year than usual. He thought he was allowed to be, for why shouldn't he?

"Who even likes Christmas trees, anyway?" Severus muttered under his breath.

It wasn't like there was anything so great about Christmas -

"And mistletoe leaves stupid leaves and berries everywhere."

- and certainly not if there was no one to celebrate it with.

"It's all about giving gifts that no one actually wants, anyway."

Severus hadn't had much of a celebration with his own family for years…

"Everyone always tries so hard to be happy -"

… But that year would be the first that he would be utterly alone.

"- with all of their perfect little friends and perfect little families." Severus tightened his hold of his legs, hands locking around his wrists enough that it was painful. The contact felt somehow good, the grasp of his fingers strangely reassuring. "I bet the Gryffindors are having a blast, the stupid idiots."

Another clop of a hoof sounded from Severus' right, and a hiss rose from his left. Still he didn't glance towards either portrait, however. He couldn't, and definitely not at that moment, because one of his yearmates was striding towards him from the top of the stairwell to the dormitories.

Ernest Eaglestone held himself with confidence. His prominent nose did his name justice, and the incessant narrowing of his eyes just as much. He was an arrogant boy, and Severus had always known it of him. He'd taken great delight in reminding Severus that his only friend was a Gryffindor. Or his only friend had been.

Ernest was taller than Severus. And bigger. And far more self-assured. He stopped before Severus' couch and squinted down his oversized nose at him, sniffing in blatant disdain. "What're you doing, Snape?"

Severus blinked up at him. Why couldn't he just be left alone? It was all he'd asked for that Christmas, all he wanted. The year had been hell enough as it was so far. Was that really too much to ask? "What do you want, Eaglestone?"

Ernest's lips twitched slightly but he didn't quite smile with the satisfaction Severus knew he held. He was a pompous, stuck up fool who considered himself above even most of their fellow Slytherins for his bloody status. More the fool him; Severus suspected his family would fall from grace and all but disappear in a handful of decades.

Unfortunately, a handful of decades wasn't now, and Severus still had to endure him. "Don't talk back to me, Snape."

"You spoke to me first," Severus muttered.

"I asked you a question."

"And I replied."

"Don't be coy, you bastard. Show some respect."

Severus flinched. He hated that word, and not because the word itself was true. It was simply a common insult in Slytherin, to so name someone as such for their halfblood status. Severus hated it. He hated it almost as much as he did the term mudblood.

Tucking his chin and fighting the urge to shrink further into himself, Severus swallowed the words he longed to spit at Ernest. "What are you referring to, Eaglestone?" he asked.

Ernest grunted, and it sounded distinctly satisfied. He continued readily enough, however. "That's better. You can tell me, now. What're you doing?"

"About what?" Severus asked, gaze trained on his knees and the faded sweater hooked over them.

"You're sitting here."

"Yes."

"And not packing to leave."

"No."

Ernest paused a beat before demanding, "Why?"

Severus only just managed to withhold a glare as he glanced back up at Ernest. Ernest wasn't even attempting to smother his smile now, and Severus hated him for it. He hated that Ernest knew exactly why, and still asked him to say it.

Then you can go to hell, Severus hissed to himself. I'm not ashamed to say it. "Because, Eaglestone, my parents aren't having me at home this year, and Evans has decided that an invitation to her own estate is less than favourable for both of our parties. I'm sure you understand."

Like a snuffed candle, Ernest's smile disappeared. In an instant, he was scowling again, his eyes narrowing further. "Don't talk back to me, Snape."

"You asked, Eaglestone," Severus said lowly.

"Show some respect."

"You asked, Eaglestone. I only told you."

For a moment, Ernest seemed to battle himself. He opened his mouth once, twice, then seemed to think better of the notion. With a click of his tongue, he turned sharply on his heel, spared Severus one final, parting glare, and strode across the common room towards his waiting friends. Severus watched him leave and felt just a flicker of victory flutter to life within him. Christmas was abhorrent, but that part, at least, was triumphant.

"Take that, Ernest Eaglestone," he whispered to himself. "You can't push me down any further when I've already made my bed here."

Severus was alone in the excited storm, but at that moment it didn't matter. The only stagnant student in the annual madness of the Christmas holidays, the only one not in the throes of celebration, and he didn't care. Not when he was allowed to remain alone and unprovoked. Not when he'd bested Ernest-bloody-Eaglestone. Not when Lily Evans had turned her nose up at him and he would have a grand Christmas outside of her house for once. He didn't like it much over there anyway. Muggles always smelt strange.

Besides, he didn't need the company. As the students around him slowly dribbled out, leaving the common room gaping and empty, Severus spared a glance for the two companions who remained as close-lipped and dutifully observant as proper friends should be. The regal stallion, tossing its head and nickering between repetitive clops of his hoof, and the snake, coiled like a rattler in the darkness of his painted cave and watching Severus with attentive, unblinking eyes whenever he assumed his seat in the armchair.

Sometimes Severus considered he would have liked to be able to speak Parseltongue. Or Equine-tongue, for that matter, if such was a thing. But other times… In the ringing silence, the peace of Slytherin's common room that was entirely his for just a little while, he didn't think their further silence was such a bad thing. Not at all.