THE POTIONS TREE
Written for Renn Ireigh.
Severus Snape had never liked Christmas. When he'd been a child, his father had - on the good years when he'd had work - promised to give him coal. This wouldn't even have been so terrible a gift. It would have kept the stove running a little longer, giving the house a little more warmth, which would have made the absence of other gifts a little more bearable. But his stockings had been empty even of that, so Severus had learned not to expect anything at all.
His mother had slipped him sweets. They were not good sweets - nothing like the peppermint canes and peanut brittle other children received - because the chocolates she stole from her office tasted like plastic and glued themselves to his teeth. He'd accepted them all the same, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Still, he had looked on with envy at his neighbors, with their bags of freshly baked cookies and their bright new toys. His were old and worn to the point that he feared to touch them. Books proved a safer way to occupy his time.
There also hadn't been much in the way of Christmas decorations in his childhood home. Nothing fragile - no glass bulbs or owls to hang on a tree, which was never dragged into the house in the first place. His mother hung a few sprigs of wintergreen and mistletoe, though if the latter had ever sweetened his father's temper, Severus never saw it. So Severus grew up without any fondness for Christmas.
That changed for a few years, though, after he met Lily Evans. Lily loved the holiday. She loved decorating a Christmas tree with her family, wrapping presents, and watching people smile at what she'd given them. She'd gone caroling and sang hymns at church. While Severus didn't care about the religious parts of the celebration - those were from his father's world - he understood that Lily liked it, and that had made him soften towards it for a time. That she gave him snacks liberated from her mother's kitchen only made it sweeter.
Yet when Lily wasn't there, neither was his enjoyment of the festivities. It angered him to see so many other children taking their good fortunes for granted. It angered him to see them with things that he could never hope to have - among them, warm homes where hot cocoa and hugs were given frequently and freely.
Then, after Lily died, Christmas just became another thing that reminded him of her. Whereas before he'd found the holiday annoying, now it was abrasive. Anyone who dared eat a chocolate in his classroom would end up with a mouthful of frog spawn instead. Anyone who tried to decorate their desk would be put in detention for defacing Hogwarts school property. Anyone who started singing - well, no one was foolish enough to start singing in his classroom. But anyone who passed him in the hall with a Christmas carol on their lips would find themselves on the receiving end of a cold glare that made the Scottish winter outside seem balmy.
He never decorated the dungeons. He never attended the Christmas feasts willingly. He never sent out cards or gifts, though he received cards from Dumbledore every year. Snape throwing them into the fire of the teachers' lounge never seemed to deter the old man.
So Snape was dumbfounded one Christmas Day to walk into his potions lab and find a makeshift Christmas tree on his desk. By makeshift, he meant that someone had taken the potions stands and welded them together in a crude approximation of a stubby pine tree. There were vials of different colored potions hanging from the hoops at the ends of the branches and a golden one for the star on top.
He could count of one hand the number of people who would dare do this. Dumbledore might have, but he'd dispensed with attempting to "cheer him up" years ago. Slughorn might have, but he respected the lab more than the privacy of most people, so he wouldn't ruin the equipment. Which left...
"Miss Granger. Would you care to explain this?" he asked as she came in with her satchel of advanced potions textbooks.
He'd never been given a reason for Miss Granger's insistence on taking his Advanced Potions course - a Master's course, no less, focusing on some of the most complex and dangerous potions wizard-kind had invented. He had some suspicions, though. Perhaps she was going on to become an Auror, as she'd wished as a schoolgirl. Perhaps she was entering the Department of Mysteries, which would require her to know this delicate work for the artifacts they dealt in. Perhaps she was pursuing a career as a Medical Wizard. All of these avenues were open to her after the war, but Miss Granger had never disclosed her reasons.
As lab partners went, Miss Granger was palatable, despite their colorful history together. She did not ask insipid questions or plead for validation like his other students. She understood the work they were doing could be lethal, so she treated it with the appropriate amount of care and caution. When she asked for clarification, it was usually on the subtle nuances of how ingredients interacted and why you needed a counterclockwise turn at a particular interval, which was at least intellectually engaging. It made him feel like he was actually teaching someone something, which was more than he could say for most of the students who passed through Hogwarts.
But Miss Granger was also a notorious helper. Condemned hippogriffs, house elves, chosen ones - you name it and she tried to fix their problems. So if anyone was going to try to bring some holiday cheer into his life, it was her.
She lifted an eyebrow as she took out the ingredients for phase two of their current project and began setting up her station. "What makes you think I did it?"
She was a good liar, but she wouldn't fool him. "Who else would make a mess of my laboratory as a holiday prank?" he said.
"It's not a prank. It's a gift. And I didn't use your equipment," she said with a gesture to the storage closet. "I got what I needed from the Room of Requirement."
"Pardon?"
"You know what a gift is, right?"
"Yes, Miss Granger, I am aware of the concept. Dumbledore reminds me of it every year."
"Oh good. Well, it really is a gift. The vials on the bottom rows are sedatives, some of them for dreamless sleep and some for relaxing after class. There are concentration potions in the upper rows to help you get through grading finals and staying up with your research projects. And that top one is an Elixir of Jubilation," she said matter-of-factly.
"...That is a complicated potion for someone at your level."
She shrugged. "And?"
"And do you imagine I will be taking that Elixir so I will gallivant about, caroling with Dumbledore and the house elves?"
"As funny and terrifying as that thought is, no. I just thought you might want to spend an hour or two feeling happy for once. Really happy, not the 'I-get-joy-from-kicking-kittens' happy."
"So you thought to drug me to accomplish that?"
"I bet Harry and Ron that I could find a way to make you smile. I never specified how."
Of course she had. He struggled not to smirk. Why give her the satisfaction? "I see. Well, while the other potions may come of use, I doubt I will indulge in that one. Even so, this is a...thoughtful...gift. Despite your ulterior motives." It was the closest he would get to thanking her. "You understand, of course, that I have nothing to give to you?"
She nodded. "Let me read your research paper and we'll call it even."
A fair trade. She had a bright enough mind for it. After all of these years, he could admit that. But then, he should have known that since she'd solved his potions test during her first year. He wondered if this gift had been inspired by that. "Very well," he said, going to gather his notes.
After that, they fell back into their routine, with him overseeing and explaining the work they were doing and Miss Granger asking questions and adding ingredients with a deft hand. In the glow of the torches, the makeshift Christmas tree she'd made for him twinkled. There was no coal or sweets or other decorations brightening his dungeon. Yet even so, it was one of the most pleasant Christmases Severus Snape had had for a very long time.