Chapter Twenty-two

Snape's Christmas Spirit

"Stop humming, Granger," Draco snapped irritably.

"I'm not humming," Hermione said absently, too worried about Snape, Ron, and the fact that Parvati and Lavender were close by to pay much attention to Draco's attempts to annoy her. In fifth year, Dumbledore had insisted that Snape lower his requirements so that more students could make it into the N.E.W.T.-level Potions class—more Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, anyway, as Slytherins easily made it into Snape's class, no matter their grade. Only Harry, Hermione, Draco, and (quite surprisingly) Neville had made top Potions scores on their O.W.L.s, but the other Gryffindors had decided to keep taking Potions in light of the war. At the time, Hermione had thought Dumbledore was right to change Snape's rule—now, she thought it had been the stupidest thing the headmaster had ever done. Why wasn't Snape arriving? Parvati and Lavender would remember her before long!

"Come on, don't be childish, I can hear you humming," Draco said tiredly.

"I'm not humming, Malfoy!" she snapped.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, realizing he could still hear the humming when she was speaking. "Potter! Are you humming?"

"I don't hum, Malfoy," Harry replied shortly. "No one is humming. You're delusional."

"I hear it too," Neville spoke up.

"Well, it's not me," Hermione said, glancing around as the song reached her ears. Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender were still talking, and Slytherins didn't strike her as the type to like the jaunty tune the culprit was humming. Now that she was listening, the song sounded vaguely familiar.

"Hang on," Harry said slowly. "That's that song from that Disney movie… 'Whistle While You Work.'"

"That's a dumb name for a movie," Draco scoffed.

"There's a movie… called Whistle While You Work?" Neville asked, struggling to recall what his Muggle Studies professor had said about movies.

"No, it's the name of a song from a movie," Hermione said. She frowned, wondering who on earth would be humming a song from the Disney version of Snow White at Hogwarts. Quite suddenly, however, her question was answered… and she immediately wished she hadn't found out. Hermione gaped, unable to fathom what she was seeing, as stunned as her classmates.

Snape had returned.

There was some doubt about whether it was really him, however. His greasy hair had obviously been given a thorough wash, and his black robes were open over green slacks and a red Christmas sweater, which said "Ho, Ho, Ho!" in yellow letters around the collar and "Merry Christmas!" over a picturesque Christmas scene with Santa and his reindeer landing in a sleigh atop a gingerbread house. The image was complete with snowmen, a gingerbread family wearing little hats and mittens, snow-covered pine trees and mountains in the distance beneath a night sky filled with stars and a crescent moon. On the front pocket of Snape's robes were two small bells that jingled faintly, tied with green and silver ribbon to a patch that said "Jingle Bells." That wasn't the worst of it, however. Snape was not only humming, he was humming "Whistle While You Work," and all while grinning and fairly skipping into the classroom like a little kid heading downstairs on Christmas morning.

It was terrifying.

As he reached the front of the class, Snape did a little shimmying dance step before completing his song and grinning even more widely at the stunned Gryffindors and Slytherins before him. He suddenly flung out his arms (Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, who were sitting in the front row, ducked instinctively) and said cheerfully, "Good morning, class!"

Well, there was only one possible reaction to that: As one, the class decided that Snape was quite dangerous, and every last student gasped in unison and leaned as far away from Snape as their chairs would allow.

"How are you all today? Good, I hope?" Snape said in the same happy tone. His only response was a couple of dropped jaws and quite a few shivers of horror. "That's a great song, isn't it?" Snape continued, not noticing the revulsion and fear on his students' faces. Then, he did the unthinkable.

Snape began to sing.

He began in a rather merry singing voice, then whistled so loudly that most of the class jumped before continuing, humming or whistling when the song called for it. Pansy and Millicent scooted their chairs back until they ran into Crabbe and Goyle's table. A few audible gulps could be heard and more shivers were seen as Snape completed his song with a flourish.

This left the class without anything much to say.

My god, he knows a Muggle song, Draco thought in horror. His very world appeared to be shattering, and this Hallmark version of Snape was doing the shattering. He knows a Muggle song from a Muggle movie! AND WHAT IS WITH THAT SWEATER! Snape doesn't own Christmas clothes! He doesn't even own colored clothes! And BELLS! No, this can't be right, this is a nightmare, this is just some horrible dream brought on by having to room with Granger and Potter—wait! This must be THEIR fault!

Draco whipped his head around to Hermione, intent upon demanding to know what she'd done to Snape… and found her gaping at Snape with the same expression of numb shock as the rest of the class. Harry's expression was only slightly different; he was obviously doing something he'd done a lot since the beginning of the war with Voldemort: running over his options, planning spells for offense and defense. Draco watched Harry's eyes sweep the room, lingering on all possible exits and weapons.

"Well," Snape continued, "that's one version of the song, anyway. Would anyone like to hear the other?"

Neville whimpered.

"No? Ah, kids these days, no appreciation for music…" He chuckled. "Well, I apologize for my tardiness—"

"He makes one wrong move, we head straight for the door and slam it behind us," Harry murmured to Hermione. "We'll try to let as much of the class out as we can, but as soon as he gets close, we'll put an Imperturbable Charm on the door and run for Dumbledore, okay?"

Hermione blinked, coming back to her senses slightly, and turned to look at Harry with an exasperated expression. Even Draco was giving him a "how much of a paranoid dumb ass can you be" sort of look, though Neville's eyes had widened at Harry's instructions and he looked ready to wet himself. Pursing her lips, Hermione turned back to the front and slowly, still nervous, raised her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?" Snape said, apparently too far away in his own little world to notice the shocked gasps from the class at the use of her first name.

"Um, P-professor," Hermione squeaked, "a-a-are you all right?"

"I'm great!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth slightly. "How are you?"

"V-very well, thank you," Hermione stammered, looking anything but.

"Professor, could we take our exam now?" Seamus asked desperately, in an attempt to get them out of class as quickly as possible.

"Oh, yes, the exam… well, I meant to plan it out over this past weekend, but I was far too busy to get it done," Snape said in an off-handed sort of tone. Everyone stared in shock; Snape had forgotten to make an exam? For a class filled with Gryffindors? Usually, he came up with the hardest exam possible, just to see as many Gryffindors as possible fail, and graded it easy for the Slytherins or whispered advice to them while he prowled the rules. The shock over the lack of exam was nothing, however, compared to Snape's next words. "Tell you what, why don't we just… just skip the exam and all brew our favorite potion? Or perhaps a potion to give as a gift for Christmas?"

"That… is… what… there's no way I'm brewing a potion for a Christmas gift!" Theodore Nott suddenly burst out.

"Oh, prefer to buy your gifts?" Snape said. His smile finally slipped, but only momentarily. "Or do you just not celebrate Christmas, Theodore? I am sorry, I should have thought—"

Blaise Zabini elbowed Theodore Nott in the ribs and muttered something that sounded like, "What are you doing? Do you WANT to take an exam?" Blaise gave Snape an obviously fake smile and said, "I think it's an excellent idea, professor."

Snape smiled back at him. "I used to make my mum a potion for Christmas every year," he said, a distant look in his eyes. "I'd buy her chocolates, too. She used to love those things from Honeydukes… Yes, why don't we, everyone? We'll all brew potions for our loved ones! At the end of the class, I'll get you all some nice flasks to put them in so you can give them as gifts for Christmas! Or whatever holiday you celebrate," he added, nodding at Theodore. "In fact, why don't we just make this optional? If you don't feel up to it, don't worry, there's no obligation…"

No one made a move to brew a potion, but Snape didn't seem to notice. "Loved ones… You know what? I'm suddenly reminded of the first potion I ever made…"

"My god, he's having a flashback," Hermione whispered. "Okay, Harry, you were right."

"It was just before I started Hogwarts," Snape continued, still smiling, this time reminiscently, his head tilted back until he was staring up at the ceiling. He gave a little jump backwards and landed on his desktop casually. "It was a love potion, if you can believe that." Everyone in the room shook their heads vigorously. "I'd met the most wonderful girl in Diagon Alley while shopping for my school things… she was a pretty little thing, with red hair and green eyes, and just as nice and smart as can be… pity she was later Sorted into Gryffindor." Snape sighed and dropped his head back to eye level with his students. Then he burst out laughing, looking right at Harry. "Oh, Potter, if you could see the look on your face, even you would laugh."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who looked mortified, as though a gangrenous, gore-covered zombie would have been easier to stomach. Hermione, who remembered what she'd told Harry after Malfoy's prank on her and Snape, was the only one who had any idea what was wrong with him, couldn't suppress a small giggle. Harry turned such a furious glare on her that she recoiled, bumping into Draco. Draco frowned as he shoved her away and did his best to piece together just what was bothering Harry; he knew there had to be something else besides Snape, as Harry looked a lot worse than he had a few moments ago… and the fact that Harry had inherited his green eyes from his redheaded mother popped into Draco's head.

"BWAHAHAHA!"

Everyone jumped, and Hermione spun around and backed into Harry. Draco was laughing louder and harder than he ever had before.

"Ah, figured it out, did you?" Snape said, grinning. "Great, isn't it?" He laughed again, and Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't believe it," Harry said in awe, shaking his head. "Even when he's pretending to be Mr. Rogers, he STILL hates me."

A small snort was heard from Hermione as she struggled to rein in her laughter, and Harry glowered at her angrily once again.

"Anyway," Snape said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, "as Potter can undoubtedly tell you, the potion went horribly wrong."

"Good," Harry muttered, his hand clenched around his wand as he glared at Snape.

"I'd found it in one of my school books, which I was looking through before term started… I still remember every ingredient," Snape went on, not having heard Harry. "First, the potion called for dragon's blood and powdered rose quartz…"

Draco listened to Snape's description, grinning his head off. Snape had had a crush on Harry's mum! Oh, the horror Harry must feel…

"…And I didn't have any sarsaparilla root, so I sent the house elf out to get some, right? Only the elf wasn't too bright, and came back with a Muggle drink—Barq's root beer. I figured it would work just fine, as it had sarsaparilla in it. But sure enough, things later went sour… Or should I say, cheesy?" He laughed, though no one quite caught the joke.

Slowly, Draco's good humor faded. What was wrong with Snape? Why was he acting like this? Was this another ruse designed to confuse him?

Of course it is, he told himself, realization dawning. This is about messing with my head. Well, it's not gonna work. I'm gonna prove he's just making this up as he goes along! He'd never admit to having a crush on someone—anyone—even if it did make Potter… Draco took a moment here to look over at the sickly green tinge to Harry's face and grinned before returning to his mental rant about Snape. …I'm not going to let him mess with me… I'm NOT… this is about the prank war, that's all! Well, if he's willing to go all out, so am I!

Draco dug out his stash of potions ingredients and began to line them up next to his cauldron, taking careful mental notes of everything Snape said.

"Well, little brother, you don't have to decide if you want to prank Hermione right now," Fred was saying as they wandered aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. "I mean, come up with the plan, then figure out if you want to do it—because if you do, then you need to have the plan first, right?"

"I guess," Ron said vaguely, lost in thought.

"Crap," George said suddenly, staring down at the end of the hall. "That's a Slytherin, she'll tell Snape you're out of class, better get out of sight, Ron—"

Ron squinted at the Slytherin, who didn't appear to be one of the Slytherin prefects. "I'm a prefect," Ron reminded George. "I put them in detention." Ron headed towards the Slytherin, who upon closer inspection appeared to be Daphne Greengrass, a girl in his year—and his Potions class—who dyed her hair black and always smelled of cigarette smoke. "Hey, you! "Greengrass!" he called. "Why aren't you in Potions?"

"Why aren't you, Weasel?" she retorted. "Did you see Snape, too?"

Ron paused. "Snape? What about him?"

"You haven't seen… well, you're missing the creepy event of the lifetime. I was running late for Potions, and as I'm walking down there, I'm walking behind this weird guy with nice hair who's humming his head off. Then he turns to go into the Potions room, and I realize it's Snape. Or someone who drank some bad Polyjuice. Soon as I saw how whacked out he was, I turned around. So I don't care what you try to do to me, Weasel, I'm not going in there until someone figures out how to fix him."

The three Weasleys looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Then, without a word, they pushed past Daphne and raced down towards the dungeons.