CHAPTER ELEVEN—Christmas
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The twelve giant Christmas trees in the Great Hall sprinkled their pine smell from their corners and alcoves. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were skewed to make room for a giant present under a few large sheets. Sev, Minnie, Rolanda, Mona and Septima sat on the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the mystery gift, with Luna and Neville on one side and Ron on the other. Mr Lovegood and Mrs Longbottom sat behind with Professor Flitwick.
Mr Lovegood had all the children chanting, "Pres-ents, pres-ents, pres-ents!" Luna, Ron, and Neville joined in. Pomona's holly wreath quivered on her head before finally sliding to one side.
Harry, Hermione and Ginny laughed from their place on the raised dais.
"We're going to open the big one first," Mrs Weasley said, smiling at the young professors.
Mr Weasley clutched a behemoth curtain, his giant, mysterious gift blocking most of the head table from view. "Drum roll, please!"
The little ones patted their knees while Fleur and Lavender bounced the babies on their laps. The other Weasley's drummed almost as vociferously as the children. Mr Filch tried to smile, but his muscles didn't know how to do so pleasantly. Firenze declined the invitation and remained in his chambers. Madam Pince was the only one doing her best to stave off the pleasant vibes and peppermint smells of the holiday. Her scowl was starkly out of place next to Hagrid's massive smile, both of them sitting at the diagonal Ravenclaw table.
"What's under that?" Hermione murmured to Harry.
"I've got no idea."
"Perhaps it's a car," Ginny whispered.
"Why would your da give the kids a car?"
George leaned on the dais. "He let us drive it."
Little hands were going numb from slapping their knees so loud. Arthur whipped the curtain from its mystery.
Neville whistled.
"Cheese and crackers." Ron wasn't nearly as awed as the little ones were. Each tiny body rose from its seat as if by strings; ten eyes rounded; five mouths gaped.
"A swing-set!" Pomona squealed. She straightened the holly wreath.
"Our thanks, Mr Weasley," Professor Flitwick said as the children sprinted towards the stage. "But whatever shall we do with it once they…return to normal?" he asked in a whisper.
"I don't see why they couldn't make use of it when they're teachers again," Luna chimed. Mr Lovegood nodded in agreement while everyone else did not look so sure.
Rolanda pushed Septima too high for the comfort of most of the adults, and Pomona swung left to right in the big, wooden seat. Sev and Minnie pumped their little legs as hard as they could, each trying to out-do the other.
Hermione took a seat at the end of the Ravenclaw table to watch the kids. Once they found a rhythm, she could stop imagining the horrific boo-boos they could obtain. She thought about little Severus cuddled into her arms, his small body squishy, soft, and warm, his knees digging into her stomach when they slept.
That morning, she watched Sev's tiny white hand curl around her sleeve, his long eyelashes twitching while he dreamt. He must have been dreaming, for his nightmares made him thrash or even whine.
She stroked his cheek, his feather-soft chin. He could be a baby doll with a tiny dress. Hermione snorted. Professor Snape had been in a dress, as Neville's boggart. Hermione ran her fingers through Sevvie's hair, trying not to laugh. What a horrid dress. And that vulture—I can't believe Mrs Longbottom still wears that creepy thing.
Professor Snape had not been cute in that dress. But Severus was the cutest little boy Hermione had ever seen. Giant black eyes, soft black hair, a precious smile. Hermione had the urge to pinch those round cheeks—but she always stopped herself. This little boy was her professor, a man she respected; an intelligent war hero who would kill her, feed her to a dragon, then kill the dragon and scatter its parts all around the countryside if he ever realized she had pinched his cutie face.
"Haaaappyyyyyy Ch'ismasss!"Minnie yelled, hopping from the seat mid-swing. Her green robes and black braids snapped through the air.
Ron and Harry jumped to their feet, clutching their hearts. "No jumping, please!" Ron said.
"Happy Christmas!" everyone said to one another.
"Let the gift-giving begin!" Bill passed a shiny package to his wife.
Hermione put her head on her twined hands. Will Sev remember all of this when he returns to normal? The diminutive Potions Master slowed down. He scolded Minnie for not dismounting with more care. What if he never turns back? Where will they go? Shipping her professors off to an orphanage was a repulsive idea. But taking care of Professor Snape, watching him grow up, making sure no one pressed cigarettes into his skin…
Don't be silly. You can't take care of a child. He's not yours, not a pet—you're not his mother.
Then where was his mother?
Severus stood in the back of the queue around the biggest Christmas tree just to the left of the Head Table. The young wizard didn't seem to expect much for Christmas. Is his mother still alive?
He rubbed his left arm. It reminded Hermione of her own bad habit. How old are Professor Snape's scars? How old are they on this five-year-old boy?
Wrapping paper floated through the air as everyone tore into their presents. The house-elves had set all the presents under the largest tree in the Great Hall, as per Arthur's request. The enchanted sky above was a clear, frigid blue but the Great Hall was warm and filled with the scent of gingerbread and peppermint. The air itself seemed happy. Or maybe it was static.
Minerva ripped the top off the box of crayons and began coloring the tabby cat on the first page blue. Ginny watched her, laughing. Pomona held her Venus Fly Trap high in the air with a giant grin across her squishy cheeks. Rolanda's yellow eyes stared at the miniature Quidditch pitch, complete with mini Quidditch teams, sitting in her lap. Ron snickered—for once, the girl was stunned into silence.
Sybill and Aurora both wore matching witch's hats and red dresses as Arthur took their picture with a Muggle camera.
"Aren't they so precious?" Lavender squealed. Fleur nodded eagerly at her side; Bill chuckled at how smitten his wife was with baby Aurora.
Septima set to work on the first word puzzle in the Big Book of Mind-Benders while wearing her SpectreSpecs. In the seat next to her, Luna read an upside-down Quibbler, sporting similar eye-wear. Ginny pulled her new purple jumper over her head. Molly kissed Bill, then Ron, Ginny, George and Arthur on the cheeks, picking up their discarded wrappings as she went along.
Hermione chuckled at Mrs Weasley's cleaning compulsions. Hopefully the house-elves wouldn't be too miffed. The scratching of parchment on wood, a sound Hermione knew well, made her turn in her seat. The witch found a hand-drawn Christmas card in front of her. Severus was blushing furiously across the table, looking down at his lap. He had yet to open the two presents before him.
Hermione shoved the square present closer, bumping him in the chest. She gave him a sneaky grin before opening her card.
Happy Christmas was written on the front in thick, black letters. Inside was a heap of green paint in the shape of a Christmas tree. Red and gold dots and a gold star shimmered like ornaments. Sincerely, Severus Snape had been printed at the bottom.
Hermione held the card to her chest. The fondness for little Sevvie made her heart expand painfully. The boy in question peeled away the green and silver paper on his gift.
"What is it?" he asked as he slit open the plastic cube with his fingernails.
"It's a puzzle."
"What do I do with it?" He turned the entwined chunks of metal in his hand, observing every inch.
"You have to take it apart."
Sev didn't look like he believed her, for a moment. Then he looked back at the two bent nails. "How do I do that?"
"Figuring it out is part of the fun," she said mysteriously, hiding her Cheshire grin behind Luna's gift.
"Thank you," he said. His giant black eyes were like still liquid under the moonlight.
"You're welcome," Hermione said warmly.
Severus looked away. He pried open the next gift; this one was much smaller and lighter. "What are these?" he asked, staring at the mad glasses in his hands.
Hermione snickered and put on her own pair of SpectreSpecs as she explained. Hermione knew they wouldn't work—Nargles weren't real. Even Severus looked skeptical.
"I've never heard of a Nargle," he said. His little lip was curling in distaste. Hermione stared at him—that sneer would be at home on Professor Snape. Above the thin lip-line of derision, his SpecterSpecs stuck out on either side of his face. Hermione burst out laughing.
Severus pouted. "You're wearing them too."
"I know," she laughed. Severus grinned, his mouth tiny underneath the giant, blue glasses. He was glad his glasses weren't pink, like Luna's and Hermione's.
