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Snape rose early the next morning. It was Monday and he had a full timetable on Mondays that year. With the added time that was going to be needed for the advent calendar, it seemed prudent the be at the Great Hall the moment the first pot of coffee was delivered by the Hogwarts house elves.

After a quick swim in the pool, Snape left his rooms, micro-reindeer in tow. Sverre had chosen to sleep beside Snape's pillow. First the potions master was against it but then he thought that this was probably a good way to collect hair from the little fellow. If his hoof clippings were good for potions according to Santa, his hair had to be good for something, too. Therefore, collecting the hair from the reindeer's lair was the first thing Snape did after waking up.

Today, the little reindeer didn't sit on Snape's shoulder. Instead, it flew circles around him.

"Are you used to more exercise?" Snape asked his new pet kindly. "When we are in the Great Hall, you can fly as much as you want."

The potions master was the first to arrive for breakfast. He was halfway through his first cup of coffee, when Dumbledore arrived. Surprisingly, the headmaster was accompanied by the Dark Lord and his usual entourage of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Good morning, Severus!" the dark wizard cried jovially. "I thought I'd come early this year to avoid missing out on half the fun. – Don't look like that. We have taken the usual non attacking vow."

"I was not fearing your attack, my Lord," Snape replied humbly. "I was angry at myself for not remembering to notify you of the new calendar immediately."

"No harm done, Draco wrote me," the Dark Lord sat beside Snape who was now flanked by both his masters. "Can you pass me the bacon?"

Snape did as he was asked and while the dark wizard was busy with his breakfast, looked at Dumbledore questioningly.

"The wards notified me about two hours ago that Tom was here," the old wizard said between two sips of tea. "Since you know him and his friends better than anybody else in the castle, you will be our liaison person."

"Yes, headmaster," Snape had to agree. It wouldn't look good to start a discussion with one master while the other watched.

The Dark Lord was through his second plate of bacon and eggs when Snape decided there were enough students present to open the calendar but then he hesitated. Santa had not given instructions how to determine who was to get a present!

Unsure of what to do, the potions master reached for the small box. He was just going to take it, when Sverre zoomed in from the other side of the room where he had been practicing some kind of figure eight manoeuvre. The small reindeer landed beside Snape's hands and stomped its small hooves excitedly.

"It seems your pet is on a mission," Dumbledore said benignly.

Snape agreed and opened the box. Sverre looked at him expectantly. "I don't want this to be my present," Snape informed the small beast. The reindeer sprang into action immediately. It hovered over the box and stretched down to reach inside. When it soared slowly, a small parcel was revealed which was now held between the reindeer's teeth. Once Sverre had gained enough height, he flew over to the Gryffindor table and put the parcel in front of Hermione Granger.

The present grew to the size of a book. The girl reached for it and first for the card attached to it.

"Your reward for not pointing out to Severus how cute his new pet was," she read aloud.

She unwrapped her prize then and it was, indeed, a book.

The students were disappointed because she hadn't got something to share with everybody. "At least tell us which book you got!" cried Susan Bones from the Hufflepuff table.

"It's a cookbook," Hermione informed the hall at large. "Christmas treats from all over the world."

"Headmaster," cried Harry Potter. "Can we try out some of Hermione's new recipes?"

"You'll have to ask Miss Granger," Dumbledore pointed out.

Hermione was, of course, willing to share her recipes.

"Headmaster," Snape interfered before the old wizard could declare the day a baking day with no lessons at all. "We cannot start skipping classes on the second of December! We have lessons to teach!"

"Indeed, indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Why don't we do this after dinner?"

At dinner, everybody was full of anticipation. Once dessert was eaten, Hermione got up. "I have discussed this with the headmaster during my lunch break," she informed the assembled witches and wizards. "We have chosen six recipes and we will make this a contest. Each house, the teachers and the Dark Lord's group will draw a recipe I have written out" – she showed six envelopes – "and prepare it. Then we will all sample what has been made and vote who is the winner."

"But we are only three!" protested Bellatrix.

"You are three fully trained adults and you have three wands," Snape pointed out.

"But the teachers are a dozen fully trained adults!" Bellatrix insisted.

"You have our Lord," Snape pointed out.

"You have Dumbledore," the witch retorted.

"But our Lord has cookie baking experience while Dumbledore is a novice." Snape rested his case. He folded his arms in front of his chest.

"Enough!" the Dark Lord growled. "I can beat the lot of them all single-handedly. You are lucky that I'm willing to let you assist." He glared at Bellatrix.

"Of course, my Lord," the witch muttered meekly.

"Because you have the smallest team," Hermione told the Dark Lord, "you get to choose first." She held out the envelopes invitingly.

The dark wizard drew one. "Pan de jamon," he read out. "It's originated from Venezuela." He sat down to watch the rest of the drawing.

The Hufflepuffs drew Malva Pudding, a dessert from South Africa.

The Ravenclaws drew Panettone, an Italian sweet bread.

The Slytherins had to make Kaiserschmarren, a sweet dish from Austria.

The Gryffindors drew Joulutorttu, a Finnish puff pastry, which left the task of making a Japanese fruit parfait to the teachers.

The headmaster announced a time limit of two hours to make sure the contest and voting ended before curfew.

The groups huddled together to devise a battle plan.

"Severus, you are a potions master," Dumbledore pointed out, "that comes closest to cooking of all our areas of expertise." The other teachers nodded in agreement.

"I beg your pardon!" Snape protested. "Potions have nothing to do with cooking!"

"Dear," McGonagall made herself heard. "You chop up ingredients, put them in a pot and put it above a fire. If that doesn't sound like cooking then I don't know what does."

"What about those of you who have a family at home? Certainly you must have done some real cooking at some point." Snape cried.

Surprisingly, each and every one of his colleagues claimed their spouses had done the cooking at home. Even the ancient runes teacher whose husband was a high ranking diplomat and more abroad than at home.

"Liars!" spat Snape and snatched the recipe card from Dumbledore. "Listen, I will coordinate the whole operation but you will have to do your part." With an evil smirk, he started to hand out tasks. McGonagall had to crack the eggs – by hand because nothing could replace the loving touch of a woman. Vector and Sinistra had to weigh out the fruit and other ingredients. Dumbledore, who had worked in alchemy, was made cut up the fruit. Flitwick and Hagrid had to stir the biggest pot McGonagall was able to conjure.

There was little time to look how things were going for the other groups but the whole thing was loud and chaotic but since giggling and laughter were part of the mix, nobody was worried.

At the end of the two hours – Flitwick and Dumbledore had cast an extremely strong cooling charm on the teachers' pot at the last minute – every witch and wizard in the hall got a small portion of every dish to try. Once they had tried everything, they were to touch their wand to the plate that held their favourite. Dumbledore had installed six hour glasses similar to those used for the house points to count the votes. The students got their usual colour, the Dark Lord got black onyx and the teachers' votes were for some reason only known to Dumbledore counted using pink tourmaline.

It was quickly clear that Slytherin was going to win.

Snape took one small bite of their Kaiserschmarren and was up from his seat.

"Where are you?" he thundered. "Show yourself immediately you little cheat!" When nothing happened, he rushed to the Slytherin table. "Where is she?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco Malfoy asked innocently. By now the whole hall was watching.

Snape snarled angrily. He stalked along the Slytherin table and finally stopped in front of a blonde. "When did you arrive and what were you thinking cheating against me in this contest?"

"All I wanted was to make sure you get a proper desert!" pouted the apprentice. "And I arrived about two hours ago. As for cheating, show me where the rules say that you couldn't be assisted by somebody who knows how to make the dish!" She glared at Snape defiantly.

"She has you there, Snape," the Dark Lord cried merrily. He loved to win but even more to watch Snape try to stand his ground against his apprentice.

The whole hall roared with laughter. The Slytherins were declared the winners and Snape took his visitor down to the dungeons. Sverre followed the two potions masters flying happy figure eights.