17
The seventeenth started with another discussion whether the apprentice could watch Snape sleep.
"You are distraught," the blonde said sternly. "You admitted it in public. Of course I'm not leaving you alone. What if something happens while you sleep?"
"For the last time," growled Snape. "I – am – not – distraught!"
"But you said so!"
"I didn't want to be talked into proposing to you. My saying I was distraught was just an excuse. Are you a Slytherin, or what?"
"Well, technically, I am a Zwiderwurzn as I went to school in Austria," replied the apprentice.
"And you said that equals a Slytherin."
"As close as you will get to a Slytherin with the Viennese houses, yes." The blonde nodded. "Now sleep and let me keep watch."
Snape rolled his eyes before he closed them and tried to go to sleep.
"Why are you not upset because I didn't want to propose?" he asked about five minutes later.
"Because I wouldn't have said yes," informed him the pink witch. "You are not husband-material."
"What?" Snape sat upright. "I am very marriageworthy!"
The apprentice made a dismissive gesture. "Too many masters, too old."
"I will give you too old!" cried Snape. He threw a pillow at the infuriating woman.
The girl ducked. "Too easy to rile," she pointed out. "Too volatile. And did I mention too many masters?"
"What do you expect me to do?" growled Snape. "Kill both, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord."
"Are you a Slytherin or not? Make somebody else do it! What would I do with you in Azkaban? And now sleep!"
In the end Snape obeyed. Luckily he didn't need to plot his masters' demise since he had no desire to marry anybody, least of all his own apprentice.
When he woke up, he was in puppet form and the day's hiding place was very, very nice!
He was at the kitchens, sitting on a shelf, with an excellent view of the house elves preparing Christmas cookies. He happily watched them prepare the dough, cut stars, hearts and trees and bake the sweet treats competently. Watching them work was a pleasure. Every single elf knew exactly what they had to do. Never did two of them reach for the same tray or the same cutter, and still, not a single task stayed unattended. It was like ballet or like what Snape imagined an ideal potions lesson looked like. Not that he had ever seen one.
Once the cookies were baked, many were taken aside to be decorated. The elves worked with sugar, chocolate, nuts and golden sugar sprinkles in various forms – little stars, comets and angel wings. They used various jams and marmalades to stick pairs of cookies together.
Hadn't Snape been a puppet, his mouth would have watered.
"We needs to prepare lunch now!" cried one of the elves at one point.
The others changed their routine immediately and within twenty minutes the kitchen was spotless and the cookies stored in ornate boxes.
When everything was done, one of the elves lifted Snape from his shelf and put him on a chair. "Snape in a Cape!" the elf said solemnly as if he was using a spell.
The potions master turned back into his human form and was immediately presented with a plate of cookies.
"Thank you!" he told the elves and dug in while watching them prepare lunch.
Once lunch had been sent up to the Great Hall, Snape handed the elf who had turned him back his present.
"Tippy doesn't need a present. Potions master's wellbeing is his greatest present," cried the elf.
"It's from Santa," Snape pointed out. "He wanted you to have it or he wouldn't have hidden me here."
The elf took the box reverently and opened it. The whole crowd of house elves watched with baited breath.
It was a book. "Christmas treats from all over the world," Tippy read out. "Master potions master must leave now. The elves needs room!" He handed the book to an elder elf who started to speak to his fellow elves in a rapid language which sounded like the peeping of mice. Tippy meanwhile pushed Snape to the door. The potions master only just managed to summon his only half eaten plate of cookies before he was shoved out into the corridor.
When Snape reached the Great Hall, the usual group of teachers (plus guests) were already there and enjoying lunch. He joined them and put the cookie plate onto the table.
"So that's why we couldn't get into the kitchen!" cried Sprout. "We tried to look for you there but for some reason the door wouldn't open."
"The elves knew the whole time I was there but only freed me when they had the cookies ready," Snape explained.
"Those greedy little things didn't want us to get a present," raged Bellatrix.
"You wouldn't have liked a cookbook anyway," Snape soothed her.
"A cookbook from Santa?" asked the apprentice. "I have to go and ask whether I can take a look at it."
After a lazy afternoon, the students and staff were treated to a variety of new dishes for dinner. Snape liked some of the new biscuits but one or two of the savoury dishes were too exotic for his taste. He made sure to point the good things out to the apprentice. If she went snooping in that book, she could as well copy the good recipes.