A Christmas Gamble by Whitetail
Past Featured StorySummary: In the Wizarding World, Father Christmas exists. Of course, not all witches and wizards know this, because only children who would not receive presents otherwise are given a present from the man himself. But when something unexpected comes up Christmas Eve, he’s in the market for two substitute Santas to tag-team his complicated route. Who better to ask than the boy whose name has been on his list almost ten years running, and the man who has forgotten what Christmas once meant for him? Either Father Christmas is crazy to put Harry Potter and Severus Snape on the same team, or he knows something they don’t. One way or another, it’s going to be one heck of a gamble if he wants all the gifts delivered on time. Entrant in 2013 Holiday Fic Fest.
Categories: Fic Fests > #15 Winter Fest 2013, Snape Equal Status to Harry > Comrades Snape and Harry Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: Snape is Kind
Genres: Action/Adventure
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 1st Year
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: A Christmas Gamble
Chapters: 9 Completed: Yes Word count: 24757 Read: 32645 Published: 10 Jan 2014 Updated: 11 Jan 2014

1. Prologue by Whitetail

2. Of Bells and Bookmarks by Whitetail

3. Insanity is Catching by Whitetail

4. Hitting the Skies by Whitetail

5. Sparks Over Cokeworth by Whitetail

6. A Reindeer in Tobias’ Bed by Whitetail

7. Cupboard of Gifts by Whitetail

8. The Future of Father Christmas by Whitetail

9. Time Returns by Whitetail

Prologue by Whitetail

A very, very long time ago, even before your grandparents' parents were young, there was a wizard who cared deeply for poor children, either in money or love, or a combination of the two. He himself as a child hadn't had much in both of these categories. He was alone in almost every way, living on the streets from a young age, and despite the fact that he eventually managed to make a home for himself, by that time the childhood joys of Christmas had passed him by, and he was twenty-five years old. It was simply too late for him to have the things he'd been denied as a boy; the hope he had missed out on as a child was evident, and while that chance had long passed, he felt that perhaps there was something that could be done still, not for him, but for other children.

It was the year that he decided this that he created the Order of Christmas, an organization that would one day span across the whole world, with many different men - young and old - taking up the mantle in their countries. But before all that, at the humble beginning of his journey, when the Order of Christmas was only composed of him, he sold everything he had and left for a remote part of Britain, hidden away with spells and magic where he could set up the operation. He crept into the homes of rich wizards and witches to speak with their house elves, asking of them one thing: That they use their spare time to help him in creating gifts for children that would not otherwise get any on Christmas. They were to be little things, so small they mightn't be noticed by others, but to a child would mean something. And one by one, Elves agreed, working in secret all over Britain whenever they had a chance, creating and finding little toys or books for the unloved, the poor, the alone.

It was the start of what would be the best kept secret of Christmas, hidden from adult witches and wizards by the belief that it was they who played Father Christmas each year. But to boys and girls who had no gifts addressed to them on Christmas, it was he, Father Christmas who showed them love. The operation grew, and house elves came to live at his workshop permanently, where they could devote their working lives to giving.

Of course, all good things end, and so when he was very old, the man stepped down. But it was only his time that was finished, because before he stepped down he passed the red coat along to another deemed worthy, and the cycle repeated, all the way up until today.

Today's Father Christmas is old, as the world expects, but he wasn't always that way. He started a long time ago, and so he remembers many little boys and girls, always keeping his eyes open for the ones that have grown up, hoping that they are loved and looked after, for he cannot give them gifts past them coming of age. The magic that lets him inside their homes doesn't work any longer than that. And unfortunately it's only the magical children he can find, but he knows well that this is better than nothing. The magic that the children of witches and wizards have is a special kind of magic, the more powerful the more someone believes, and that allows him to find them.

He cares deeply for all of his lost children, even when they grow up. He suspects he isn't supposed to have favourites, but there are some he is more fond of than others. A young boy named Harry Potter is one of the children right now that he pays very close attention to, and while the child has never seen him when he has crept into that little cupboard in the dark of night, there is more belief in that boy's heart than Father Christmas has felt for a very long time. Of course, Harry isn't the only one that has crept into his book of favourites. There is a grown man he remembers well as a boy. That boy was one of the few that Father Christmas was ever seen by. And while Father Christmas suspects Severus Snape may have convinced himself he only imagined it, it really doesn't matter, for everything is about to change this Christmas Eve. They just don't know it yet.

The End.
Of Bells and Bookmarks by Whitetail

It was the last day before the Christmas holidays, and Harry was waiting patiently for his hiccup draught to boil fifteen minutes before bottling it. Professor Snape was stalking from one end of the room to the next and looking particularly foul, causing the more nervous of the first years to shrink in their seats as he swept past. The clock read twenty minutes to the end of the class, the time when the students would at last be free for the Christmas holidays. Most of Harry's classmates were at the stage where they were to let their potions boil, and chatter had broken out despite Snape's glares, the contagious excitement of the holidays causing a breakdown of even Snape's reign.

"Oy, Dean, what do you think you'll get for Christmas?" asked Seamus in a low voice.

"Well, I asked for comic books, so hopefully I'll get some of those," said Dean with a grin. "You?"

"No idea, but I bet it'll be great," Seamus added.

"Ron?" Dean inquired.

"Oh," said Ron, flushing slightly as he prodded the flames on his fire. "My Mum always knits us jumpers … I'll probably get some baking too. I dunno."

"If your Mum cooks half as well as Fred and George go on about her cooking, I'll take some any day," Dean said, to Ron's pleasure.

"I hardly think we should be talking of such frivolous matters when we should be watching our potions," hissed Hermione.

"Aw, come on Hermione," Ron said good naturedly. "What did you ask for this Christmas?"

Hermione took a fervent glance at her potion, which was naturally the perfect colour and consistency. After a moment of hesitation, and a fair bit of encouragement from the others, said that she was hoping to get a set of three books detailing the travels of Newt Scamander, the famed Magizoologist.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned.

"Sounds great, Hermione," Harry told her, earning him a smile.

"And you, Harry?" Seamus asked suddenly. "What do you think your family got you?"

Harry felt his smile slip. He cleared his throat.

"No idea," he said before hastily checking his potion.

He lost the train of conversation for a while as the question continued down the line, coming out of his thoughts only by the laughter of the others.

"Father Christmas isn't real," snorted Seamus to Julia Baxter, another first year Gryffindor. "Come on, Julia, it had to have been your parents."

"No, he is real," insisted the Julia, her brown eyes filling with tears. "He is. He brings me a new book every year! And it's always addressed to me, from Father Christmas w-with l-love!"

"It's your parents," insisted Seamus, turning from her to look at Dean, shaking his head. "Doesn't know it yet."

"Seamus, Julia's right - Father Christmas is real," Harry said. Julia stared, relief evident on her face. The room fell silent, Harry's proclamation catching the ears of every skeptical eleven year old in the room.

"What, you too?" Seamus said, aghast. "Harry, you honestly believe -"

"I know," Harry said, "I know for sure because … because …"

"Touching, Potter," Snape said, swooping down on them, having at last had enough with the talk. "However much I would love to hear the incontrovertible proof you have on the existence of Father Christmas," - Snape sneered, causing the Slytherins to snicker - "all of this inane chatter is not allowed in my classroom. Five points from Gryffindor for talking, and get back to work."

"Hey, Harry wasn't the only one talking!" Ron said angrily. "That's not fair."

"Not fair?" Snape hissed, livid. Then, a crooked grin spread across his face and he added, "Well done Mr. Weasley for pointing that out. You are right. Mr. Potter wasn't the only one talking. Let's see, five from you, five from Granger, five from Finnegan and Thomas, five from Longbottom, and five from Baxter. There, I believe that is fair. Now work!"

Not daring to grumble about it, everyone began to bottle their potion samples.

Harry slapped his down hard on Professor Snape's desk. Malfoy, who was behind him in line, sniggered.

"So, what's Father Christmas going to bring you this year?" he taunted.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said, his face set.

"How can you still believe that garbage?" Malfoy said with a laugh, blocking Harry's way. Harry glanced at Snape, who simply watched.

Seething, Harry replied, "Well, just because you're such a brat that your parents had to pretend their gifts were from Father Christmas doesn't mean I'm wrong!"

Before Malfoy could get a chance to retaliate, Harry had darted around him, making a beeline for the door. As he did so he glanced back to see if Snape was going to stop him to take points away for insulting Malfoy, but to his amazement he didn't. Yet, Harry found the puzzled, thoughtful look on Snape's face to be more bothersome than if he had taken points.

On the way back Harry had to endure all manner of jabs about what he had said, although they were mostly good natured. Hermione looked at Harry in a sad sort of way, like she thought it was sweet he still believed, but that he was sorely mistaken. Harry would have loved to prove it to her, but he didn't feel like revealing the fact that his relatives hated him and would never in a million years give him a gift. He'd brought the most recent gift to Hogwarts even, and it had a note from Father Christmas in it. It was a book, like Julia said she was given every year.

Dean and Seamus prodded fun at Harry. Their comments lacked cruelty though, and were clearly just aimed for fun. Oddly enough, Ron hadn't said a word. It was lunch, and to avoid the others, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to grab a few sandwiches and go eat them elsewhere.

"Ron, how come you haven't laughed yet?" Harry said thoughtfully as he took a bite of ham and cheese sandwich. "Or at least said I'm wrong."

"Wouldn't be nice, right?" Ron said around a mouthful of chicken and ham.

"Yeah, but you're not this quiet usually," Hermione added.

Ron just shrugged.

"Do you believe in Father Christmas too?" she said, surprised.

Ron flushed.

"You do?" Harry said, excited.

"Well …" Ron added, "I'm not really that sure … I mean, well … never mind."

"Go on Ron," Harry said quietly. "I won't laugh."

Ron was silent a moment, then continued. "You know how my family's really … we haven't got a lot, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"See, when I was five … Mum couldn't afford the wool to make us jumpers even - Dad had been really sick for a while and couldn't go to work. He ran out of sick pay so he had to just take regular old leave without pay, and … Mum and Dad told us that we wouldn't be getting anything from them on Christmas. That we'd just be getting a Christmas dinner, and that was really only thanks to the fact that magic can turn less food into more, so at least we would get to eat, but … I was really upset, and so were they. And I remember wishing that Father Christmas would come, and Ginny crying - we shared a room back then, before we added onto the house when things were going better. And I told her to really believe, because maybe Father Christmas would come after all, right? I wasn't sure if I believed myself, but I hoped, and well …" Ron shook his head. "We woke up and there was this stack of gifts under the tree for all of us kids. Just little stuff, really. A set of action figures for me, a teddy bear for Gin, a book for Percy. And little notes from Father Christmas were tied to each of them."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, her eyes full of tears. She rushed forward and hugged him, and Ron shot Harry a bewildered look.

"But that's just it," Ron said when Hermione finally let go. "My parents were shocked. They said that they didn't give them to us, and my Mum was crying because she was so glad. Not even Percy was able to believe it was them. He just said it must have been a kind friend of Mum and Dad's that knew, but I don't know. We never got gifts from Father Christmas like that again, but every year after that Mum and Dad were able to scrounge something up for us, so I guess we didn't need them. I don't know who it could have been, because Dad would never talk about how bad it was, and the only relative we have that actually has any more than us is Auntie Muriel, and she always just sends a big Christmas card addressed to Mum and Dad and the rest, and peanut brittle."

"He is real, Ron," Harry said. "I know it. You aren't wrong."

"And how do you know, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Because …" Harry began, looking to Ron. Ron had spilled his secret, so why not Harry? "Well, my relatives don't like me. They always give Dudley tons of presents, and they never give me one. Well, sometimes they do, but it's always a joke. Once for my birthday Uncle Vernon gave me an old pair of his socks, which were pretty full of holes. He laughed. Anyway, every Christmas morning when I was in bed, supposed to stay out of the way while my relatives opened gifts, something would be there on my shelf that wasn't there in the night. They always had a note too, like Ron's present. It was never anything big - usually something I could hide to keep my cousin from breaking it. Sometimes my relatives would find it later in the year and try to take it away, but it always showed up again the next day in my cupboard. You know, the cupboard in my room, that is." Harry felt his heart jump into his throat. Hermione and Ron didn't seem to look into his statement. "It couldn't have been them. It had to be Father Christmas."

But both looked troubled. Ron's brows were furrowed, and Hermione looked ready to cry. She gave Harry a hug too.

"I have a few of Father Christmas' gifts here, actually," Harry added brightly when she pulled away. "I kept all his notes too. The rest are in the cupboard though. Aw, Hermione, don't cry. It's not that bad."

Ron looked alarmed, and Harry didn't know what to do.

"Harry that's horrible!" she said through tears. "Y-You have to t-tell Dumbledore!"

"Nah, he was the one that put me there in the first place," muttered Harry. "Hagrid said so. It's for my protection, or something."

"But H-Harry …"

"Relax, Hermione," Harry said. "Come on, we should get going if we're going to get our charms books before class."

Harry sped forward, and quickly struck up a conversation about Quidditch with Ron, and the matter was soon put aside. As the days went by, and Christmas holidays grew nearer, Harry was able to avoid the subject, dismissing Hermione's concern and telling her every time that he was better off at the Dursleys', where he was protected. Hagrid had reckoned You Know Who was still out there anyway, and from what Hagrid had said Dumbledore clearly thought that Harry was safer there. So Harry fed them the same garbage he'd been told, and even though he hated the idea, Harry thought there was probably a very good reason for it. He saw no sense in telling the headmaster what life was like at the Dursleys'.

 ***

Christmas Eve seemed to arrive at last, after days of painful waiting. Harry looked forward to Christmas more than he ever had, because for the first time ever he would get a proper Christmas dinner, and get to spend it with his best friend Ron, Hermione having gone home. The day was snowy and cold, the skies a blinding white. The previously planned snowball fight among Harry and the Weasleys was abandoned for warmer pursuits when afternoon showed no improvement. It was well into the evening when the chess tournament was finally at the point where it was almost coming to a close. They had two boards going - Ron's and Percy's set.
Harry was taken out of the running by Ron, naturally, and sat watching Percy and George battle it out to see who would play him for the winner (Fred had been trounced by George previously). George appeared to have the upper hand at the moment, but Percy relayed his directions to the pieces, leaving more than one of George's men smashed on the board.

"Eat dirt, Perc," George muttered, scowling.

"How intelligent," Percy replied in a bored tone.

"Just because you read more books," George said absentmindedly, "and I come up with complicated schemes that raise the moral of the school …"

"With Fred's help - so you only have half a brain then," Percy pointed out.

"Really -" began George, glancing at Fred with a grin.

"-that," Fred added.

" -is,"

"- completely,"

"- not,"

" -true."

"Point made," Percy muttered, resulting in laughter from the rest. Harry snorted into his hot chocolate, almost spilling it.

"Speaking of half a brain," Ron piped up jokingly, "Oy, Harry, you were going to lend me Quidditch Through the Ages, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said with a laugh, shooting a look at Ron. Half a brain indeed, he thought as he tried to recall where he put it.

"What's up, did you lose it?"

"Er yeah, I think … I think I left it in the Great Hall at dinner," Harry said, cringing and hoping it was still there. It was a copy that he had bought through the mail, knowing he'd want to read it more than once and having found out from the older students that it was a very popular book and was always on loan. He hoped nobody had stolen it. "I'll be back soon."

"You'd better be!" Ron said with a grin, "you'll want to see the stupid look on Percy's face when I beat him."

"Who says I'm going to lose?" Percy and George said at the exact same time, as Percy's pieces decimated the last of George's.

Fred snorted with laughter, which earned him a flying peppermint smack dab on the forehead courtesy of George.

"Thanks, you prat," muttered Fred as everyone burst out into laughter.

"Be back soon," Harry called to them before getting up and heading for the portrait hole.

The chatter of the common room faded away as Harry left. He walked through the castle quietly, enjoying the silence of the empty corridors. It seemed that the students were spending the chilly evening in their common rooms. Harry pulled his arms in to his chest, the old jumper of Dudley's doing little to keep out the draught of the corridors as he made his way toward the Great Hall. The faint sound of Christmas music was drifting down through the castle, and Harry suspected it was coming from the staff room, which as he recalled wasn't too far away. Fred and George had debated pulling a few good pranks while the staff had their Christmas party, but decided against it, reasoning that if they refrained, McGonagall and the others would be in a better mood and less quick to punish later in the holiday if things got a little rowdy.

The Great Hall doors were open, the twelve Christmas trees reaching for the snowy ceiling up above. The candles hovering over top the tables were not lit, but the ones in the branches of the trees were, and they cast a warm, flickering glow on the hall, the tables sparkling beneath them. With a sigh of relief Harry spotted his book on the Gryffindor table. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall, and he picked up his book, putting it under his arm.

Before he turned around to leave the hall, however, he noticed that something had been slipped between the pages. Harry looked around for a second, then sunk down onto the bench and opened the book. Sitting between the pages was a bookmark of sorts, made from a shining gold metal. A crest was pressed into it. It was the head of a reindeer, and all around the bookmark edges the shapes of holly leaves were arranged, with sprays of berries. Two thin pieces of ribbon extended from the top, one silver and the other of a deep crimson.

Harry smiled down at it, wondering who had put it there, and picked it up to examine it further. As he did so he felt a sudden jerk somewhere just behind his navel, and then the hall flickered and died, wind rushing around him as he sped away from Hogwarts.

***

Severus Snape really wasn't one for parties. This year's Christmas party was no different. The staff members were loosening up a little, or as much as they could in a school. Even Minerva had had a cup or two of punch (Pomona's recipe was legendary among the staff, or at least those who liked punch, unlike Severus).

"Lighten up, Severus," Dumbledore said, coming over to stand by the fire, where Severus was sitting in an armchair. "Come join us for a game of cards."

"Not in the mood," muttered Severus, staring into the flames.

"You might have some fun," replied Dumbledore.

Severus just shrugged.

"Alright, then," Dumbledore said, patting Severus on the shoulder before leaving him be. "Next round maybe."

It was too loud, and the Christmas music from the wireless was getting on Severus' nerves. He wasn't in the mood for cheer, not when he felt so dull. Pushing away yet another colleague trying to hand him a bowl of pretzels or put a hat from a Christmas cracker on his head, Severus got up and sidled out of the staff room. His chest felt tight again, like it did sometimes when he was around people. He needed space, and a break from the merrymaking. Christmas was not merry for him. It never had been, not even when he was a boy. His family was poor and his parents didn't really care much to pay any attention to him. His mother was there sometimes but absent other times, lying in bed for days on end, sad eyes staring at the ceiling while Tobias drank downstairs. Especially during the cheer of the holidays. Oh, he had loved her alright, but he wished she had been less distant. It was like she disappeared when he was home for the holidays, sad and blue up in her bedroom.

It was no way to spend Christmas, and it was for that reason that Severus had never quite understood what all the fuss was about. Christmas to him had never been all that fun, if he was going to be honest with himself.

He walked away from the party, the last tendrils of cheery music releasing him into the night so that he could walk in silence toward the Astronomy tower. He ascended with a kind of fervour, bursting forth from the staircase and into the chill night, the wind having died down from earlier until only thick fluffy flakes drifted down. It was dark but for the lights of the castle windows, which shone in great beams that illuminated the snowflakes before being swallowed by the deep navy blue of the night.

Severus approached the railing, inviting the cold and releasing a breath he had been holding far too long. He pulled a pair of thin gloves from his pocket and slid them over his chilled hands before placing his forearms on the railing.

He closed his eyes, silence all around, not a breath of wind in the air. Very faintly he could hear the sound of snowflakes settling in his hair and on his cloak.
What was the point of all this? What was the purpose of celebrating being alone? Christmas. What was it even supposed to be? He knew what it was to children - gifts from their parents and being loved. But what was Christmas if you never had those things, really? Even as a child, Christmas was a reminder of what he didn't have. His parents never bothered to give him a single gift for Christmas, and maybe it was because they were too poor, but others in the same predicament made it work, Severus knew. Even just a homemade card, a folded paper swan, a new pencil, a hug and a kiss. It wouldn't have mattered what it was. Just knowing his parents cared would have been enough.

"Pitiful," muttered Severus, scoffing at himself and muttering under his breath in a mocking tone. "Look at me. Bitter and hateful because Daddy and Mummy didn't love me. Imagine what the students would think …"

He shook his head. Quite suddenly, a ringing erupted in his ears. Surprised, Severus shook his head a little harder, thinking he was hearing things. It was the sound of a bell, a small one, and it wasn't in his head after all, but elsewhere.

Severus whipped around, surprised to see that something appeared to have fallen from either the rafters or the railing, for a tiny silver bell was rolling across the cold stone floor. It rolled along until it got stopped by a small drift of snow inside the chill tower.

Frowning, he picked it up. It jingled for a moment, gleaming innocently.

The tower disappeared in a flash.

The End.
Insanity is Catching by Whitetail

Severus moaned slightly, staring up at the sky from where he'd slipped and fell hard onto his back upon landing. He scowled, dusting the snow off his robes as he stood, furious. Of course it was a trick. It had been a portkey - he knew it. But where on earth was he?

Around him was a very flat landscape, snow everywhere. An icy pond lay behind him, and up ahead he thought he saw stables, and an old, rustic log house that seemed to have been added onto over the years. It had two stories and great windows, warm light spilling from them and out into the chill air.

"Great," he muttered to himself, having nowhere else to go. He glanced around, then tried to apparate away. No luck. He would just have to venture forward. It was obvious the house was his destination. He glanced down at the bell in his hand, shaking his head. He slipped it into his pocket. He tried letting go of it then grabbing it again, but it wouldn't activate.

Deciding he might as well do this with some dignity, he marched forward, aware of the bitter cold, his feet freezing. He stepped up the small wood steps and grasped the door knocker. It had a crest on it of some sorts - a reindeer surrounded by holly, and a banner beneath it with three stars, the largest star in the centre of the banner reaching down toward the pointed bottom of the shield. He lifted the knocker up and let it fall three times.

"Ah, Severus, I was hoping you would make it," said a voice as the door opened.

Severus rubbed his eyes, and then pinched himself, and then felt his mouth open slightly.

It was a man, white hair and a white beard, much shorter than Dumbledore's though. He was wearing a red sweater and his cheeks were chapped with cold. And the strangest thing was that Severus was quite sure he had seen him in a dream before - or at least he supposed it had been a dream considering how young he had been at the time.

"Ah, you do remember me!" said the man cheerfully, taking in Severus' shocked expression. "I knew you wouldn't forget Father Christmas."

Severus felt his knees go weak as he was ushered into the warmth of the room.

"B-But, this is … this is a prank," he said, his mouth dry (A prank, he thought to himself, sure, a prank that just so happens to have the man that you remember seeing the night of Christmas eve, 1964, less lined, wearing a red coat and willing to help when nobody else had noticed anything was wrong). As if he was in the memory itself, Severus could feel his heart beating with terror as he remembered that Christmas Eve, the way whisky smelled after dinner, and how a broken arm felt.

"Your arm healed well, I presume?" asked Father Christmas (No, no, a man that looks like him - he isn't … couldn't be …) as though he could read it in Severus' face.

"Yes," said Severus dumbly. "Fine. How can you … This isn't happening."

"I assure you it is, Severus," was the reply, twinkling brown eyes meeting his. "Are you telling me that you deluded yourself into believing that there was no Father Christmas in all these years since? Despite the notes?"

"Yes," Severus said firmly. "Well, not completely - later I figured that it was just someone who knew me and cared enough to … besides, there isn't a real Father Christmas - that's the product of dreams and imagination in children. And besides, if you were Father Christmas you would be able to tell me something only you could know. The arm - I flinched, anyone could guess that. I was young at the time, and was probably hallucinating from pain - clearly someone else healed it."

"Ah, a skeptic," chuckled Father Christmas. "The first time you saw me you interrogated me in much the same way, as I recall. Quite tenacious, even then. Well, let me see … no … no … ah, this one will do: Goodness me, it would have been 1966, I think, something appeared on your side table. It was a picture book about potions, and a note that said Happy Christmas, for the littlest potions -"

"- master …" muttered Severus numbly, feeling his cheeks flush. "I … this isn't … I need to sit down."

"Certainly, come on in," said Father Christmas, leading Severus through into a sitting room.

Severus collapsed into an armchair.

"What on earth is going on?" he said faintly.

"A spot of Christmas magic, I daresay," Father Christmas said cheerfully, sinking down onto an armchair next to Severus' and stoking the fire. "And you certainly could use some."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Severus said with a sniff.

"Really? Yet my Christmas Elves inform me that you have been getting gloomier and gloomier these past few years," he said dryly, waving a thin oak wand through the air and summoning a teapot and cups. "I don't just forget about those that grow up, you know."

"Christmas Elves," Severus stated, an incredulous half-smiling sort of look on his face, unable to take the situation seriously. He was still not ready to let go of the idea that this was some elaborate prank. He wondered vaguely if the Weasley twins were capable of something of this calibre. A hallucinogen in his drink, perhaps?

"House elves, dear boy," said Father Christmas, pouring Severus a cup of tea, which he accepted after a moment of hesitation. "A great many have pledged themselves to the Order of Christmas, you know. I have little friends all over, and a plenty at Hogwarts. They keep an eye on those that I feel need it."

"Order of Christmas?"

"Oh, all in good time. Let us finish our tea first, and then I shall give you a tour. I have a proposition for you, Severus."

Severus shook his head, pinching himself again. He felt pain, but the place looked as solid as ever. Even the Weasley Twins weren't this good.

Yes - no doubt about it, he thought. This must be what a mental break is like.

 

***

"Mr. Harry Potter sir!" cried a half dozen squeaky voices at various times, tiny hands reaching to pick Harry up out of the snow where he had fallen in an ungraceful heap, the bookmark clenched in his hand tightly, the book in the other.

"Huh?" Harry said, confused and a little dizzy. He slid his glasses back on, which had slipped slightly during the fall, and what he saw nearly made him faint. "Who are you?"

"Father Christmas' Elves, of course, little master," squeaked the one that seemed to be in charge, his gold and silver trimmed toga (with the same crest as the bookmark on it) standing out from the other red and green outfits. "Father Christmas has sent for you, and we is bringing you inside. No fretting, young master. Come, come!"

The tiny hand reached for Harry's, and the gaggle of Christmas elves with their batty ears and big round eyes led a shivering Harry through a small back door of sorts - only just tall enough for him - and into a warm, steaming area. The bells on the ends of some of the elves' outfits rang softly as they led him through a warm kitchen and out into a tiny sitting room, which had chairs that seemed to be the perfect height for elves, and not too bad for Harry. A blanket was draped around him and a hot cup of tea brought to him, with plenty of cream and sugar.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"We saids so," replied the silver and gold clad elf with a laugh. "Father Christmas wants to see you! He has something he wants to asks of you."

"But why me?" Harry said in awe. The way his toes were throbbing with cold this had to be real - there was no way it was a dream.

"Father Christmas didn't say," said the elf sincerely. "Father Christmas just told Merry he wanted Harry Potter's help - he is a very busy man. Merry is happy to help Father Christmas."

"Merry … is that your name?" Harry added curiously.

"Yes, sir, as in Merry Christmas" said Merry, beaming.

"Yeah, I got that," Harry said, grinning. "Thanks for the tea."

"You is very kind," Merry told him so sincerely it made Harry blush.

Harry just shrugged.

"Father Christmas is busy for the moment - but Merry is to give you a tour of the workshop. He says we might run into him on the way."

"A tour - really?" cried Harry, eyes alight with excitement.

"Yes, now we must hurry, because there is lots and lots to see!"

***

"Come, Severus," said Father Christmas, getting up and motioning to a door at the end of the sitting room. It was painted a deep green, and had an ancient looking handle.

Severus got up, and Father Christmas opened the door.

"Go on in," he said. "This is where the magic starts."

Cautiously, Severus stepped inside, and he felt his eyes widen with amazement. It was a vast room. House elves were everywhere, dressed in red and green and chattering away at each other while they stacked and organized, sorted, and typed on tiny typewriters. There were big golden letters painted on the large square tables that held around fifteen elves a piece, all the way from A to Z.

"Of course, they're almost done - another hour and it should all be ready. I'm afraid we're a bit behind schedule this year. Usually all the gifts are sorted two days before I'm ready to hit the skies on Christmas Eve, but things haven't gone entirely smoothly this year. It means we haven't the time to do a second check of the list to make sure every gift is made, but I have faith in the elves."

"This is … this is amazing," Severus said, taking in the scene before him. "Looks very efficient to me - whatever has slowed you down?"

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes upon hearing himself. It was almost as though he was starting to believe it all.

"A very bad sickness went through many of the elves - not deadly of course and only contagious among them, but it had them feeling pretty ill and I absolutely refuse to let them work when they're under the weather, even if they want to. Usually they get through everything at a leisurely pace with time to spare, but it's been quite a hassle this year with so many needing sick time. Took a while to get a potion to properly immunize them too - I had to spend a rather long time developing it."

"Well, looks like things are getting done alright this year," Severus said, impressed.

"Yes, it is a relief," Father Christmas said. "Of course, I am afraid there is one other hitch. That's why I brought you here."

"Hitch, what hitch?" Severus asked as he was led across the large workshop and into a tiny corridor. There were a few doors along the wall, and they entered the middle one. It had a heavy oak door, elaborately carved, but this was nothing to what was inside.

The room was quiet, and dim oil lamps lit the area. The walls were lined with gold and silver embossed books, and a long, sliding ladder went all the way around. There was a sort of alcove that was lit brightly, and on a pedestal was an enormous book that looked to be at least a hundred years old, although extremely well preserved. A beautiful piece of stained glass hung behind it, opaque, white and cream coloured glass forming a Christmas star surrounding by deep hues of purple, blue, and grey.

"It has to do with this," said Father Christmas, opening the big book gently. "This book here is enchanted to record the names of the children who will not be receiving a gift. It's extremely complicated magic, and takes years to understand, and years further to put into practice. Unfortunately, it can only detect wizarding children, for it is able to sense their predicament through their magical core. I suppose that is better than nothing, but that's another matter. To explain how it works in very simple terms: Magical children have a special kind of magic that is lost when they come of age. It works in tandem with emotions, in this case, belief, hope, and the desire for love. This kind of magic can be sensed by the book, and also is able to monitor surroundings to some extent. Through some very complicated spells and arithmancy formulae I can't explain in the time I have, it manages to sense which children will not be receiving gifts, as well as a few other things, among them the reason why."

Father Christmas flipped to the first page.

"It records all of that information in this book," he continued. "The child's name, their situation and precautions to be taken when delivering their gift, and of course, a list of their likes and dislikes. Although, this is only my copy, designed specially for the United Kingdom. There are many of these, in many areas around the world, filled with the names of magical, and otherwise forgotten children, which are looked after by the Order of Christmas so they aren't left out.

"I shall add now that there is a rather new Father Christmas in France. The title gets passed on over the years, and this is only his second year, the poor chap, and his book's gone haywire and has refused to open - which means he can't take it along to refer to it as he's delivering. Such books aren't just decorations, you know, as they're charmed extensively so they can come along on the deliveries. As I am much more knowledgeable in the matter, I will be leaving for France as soon as possible to fix it.

"On top of that, I am afraid the time turner I possess is rather stationary and only works one a year - safer that way, you see. It was agreed by the Order of Christmas a long time ago to allow time turners only if they could not leave the workshop, and couldn't be open to the temptation to use any other time of the year. Should a time turner ever be dropped in an unsuspecting child's home, it would surely end in disaster. Thus, using that to complete both jobs would be quite complicated."

"A time turner?" Severus said, intrigued. He cursed himself, tamping down the eagerness in his voice.

Good lord, insanity is catching, he thought wryly.

Father Christmas nodded, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, luckily here all the children can be delivered to in one night thanks to a few tricks. Also, there is a surprisingly small number that are given nothing for Christmas for any reason besides them not celebrating it."

Severus frowned for a second, having just paused long enough to consider the weight of the man's previous words.

"Wait, so if you have to leave … who is delivering the gifts?" Severus said slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"Ah, I knew you'd get to it eventually. Goodness, don't look at me like that. I have a helper for you - I'll go meet him in a few minutes and bring him by. No doubt he has questions too."

"Absolutely not!" Severus said, aghast. "What on earth makes you think that I'm the man for the job? I'm horrible! I am mean! I make children cry."

"True, true, and I can tell you are pleased about that last part," said Father Christmas, looking disappointed, his gaze making Severus' stomach squirm for some reason. "But you aren't what the others see. Even what you see in yourself, most times. No, I think that you are exactly the man for the job."

"But why?" Severus cried, irritated.

Father Christmas smiled softly, and rested his hand on the big book, which was closed once more. "Simple," he began. "There aren't any Slytherins in here. There haven't been since you started teaching."

"Coincidence. That doesn't mean I -"

"My elves aren't blind, Severus, and I know for a fact you have a few spying for you to give you a hand because they happen to be friendly with me too. And the children in Slytherin that are just like you were haven't any idea that it's their very own Father Christmas who orders them to tuck in their shirts lest they disgrace Slytherin House. Don't think I don't know."

Severus was silent, and while he didn't say it was true, he didn't deny it either. Slytherin wasn't exactly a happy house when it came to families. Someone had to do it, if only to avoid the house becoming divided when students became jealous. Or at least that's what he told himself. Besides, there were only ever a few students, so it wasn't difficult to ensure they had a small gift. Severus remained with his arms crossed, not moving an inch. Father Christmas' eyes met his.

"I really need you this year, Severus," he said quietly. "I helped you long ago, now please, help me to ensure that children like you once were, who are broken and lost and alone, are not forgotten tonight. It's one night, and you'll get every second of your time back with the yuletide time-turner."

"Yuletide Time-Turner," scoffed Severus. "Really, who thought of that one?"

Father Christmas looked at him expectantly. Hopefully even. It was infuriating. Almost like Dumbledore, trying to see the best in him. He had disliked Christmas before, but right at that moment Severus was sure he hated it. And he hated that the man before him had played the "remember when that was you" card. It bloody hurt, and it was hardly fair. And on top of it Lily would have done all this in a heartbeat, if only she'd been asked. He was amazed at how he could still hear her telling him what to do sometimes, in the most absurd of situations.

He couldn't believe he was considering it. He couldn't believe the answer he was thinking of giving.

Although, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. There was that.

"Fine!" he spat, furious, fists clenched. "On one condition!"

"And what is that?" said Father Christmas with that annoyingly cheerful smile.

"That you make your" - he sneered - "yuletide time-turner spit me back out after the staff Christmas party is over."

"It's a deal," said Father Christmas, beaming and shaking Severus' hand. "As long as you can negotiate it with your helper, but I think you two can come to an agreement for what time to return. All I need you to do is sign a small contract - to go in the records. Order of Christmas protocol, in case any substitute needs to be contacted about a journey they made."

Severus looked at Father Christmas suspiciously.

"Go ahead and read all the fine print," said Father Christmas, pulling out a piece of paper from a drawer and a golden quill. "It is magically binding, though, so once you sign you must do as you say and complete the journey."

Severus picked up the paper. He studied the writing. It had the usual sort of information - responsibility for the welfare of passengers in the sleigh, statements to free the Order of Christmas and its members from liability in case of accidental injury, what would happen if you couldn't complete the journey, and so on. It seemed to come without any strings.

"And if I don't complete the journey?" Severus said, looking up from the paper. He wanted to hear it from the man himself, besides what the paper said, so he was sure he understood.

"As it says, you must find someone else to complete it, and file a rather nasty set of paperwork if the time is past Christmas and the Yuletide Time Turner needs to have an override so that it will function on a date other than Christmas to allow for the route to be completed on the right time. It's a complicated process. Then, seeing as this operation is really a secret, you will be obliviated of the whole incident."

"Fair enough," Severus said, keeping eye contact with Father Christmas long enough to determine that he was telling the truth. So Severus shrugged and took the quill, signing it with his spiky signature. It was better than the staff party, anyway. How hard could it be?

"Wonderful - a nuance, for sure, but required by the larger organization."

"So, that's it then?"

"It is indeed, and by now it's almost time to get the operation started. I'd suggest we get you suited up, then I can take you out to meet the reindeer."

"Reindeer," Severus said weakly under his breath when Father Christmas led him into another room off to the side of the book room, which had a mirror and a large wardrobe.

"The traditional Father Christmas suit isn't just for decoration, you know," said Father Christmas as he flung open the wardrobe. Inside was a large selection of jackets and thick trousers, a selection of colours and sizes. All looked very old, and yet in good shape.

"Shouldn't they all be red?" asked Severus curiously, fingering a snow white overcoat with grey fur trimming it.

"That's only a myth," said Father Christmas. "Just as Father Christmas comes in all shapes and sizes, Christmas too comes in many colours, not just red. Pick whichever is most comfortable - they're all charmed to keep you toasty and warm. They have a few other tricks too, but I'll tell you those later. Boots are on a rack in the cupboard. I will be back in a few minutes."

Severus watched him go, and peered into the wardrobe, wondering what on earth he was doing with himself, agreeing to something as absurd as this. He didn't know, exactly, but the one thing he was sure of was that he definitely wasn't wearing red.

***

Harry was in awe after the tour of the workshop, and asked millions of questions as Merry explained the situation, that Father Christmas himself needed Harry to help deliver gifts this year. Harry could hardly sit still as Merry flipped pages in the Big Book, as the elf called it, and told him that he would be the one that had to read out the important details of delivery for each child. The book was so large Harry didn't think he could even fit it on his lap. But Merry assured him that there was a nice, special spot for the book on the sleigh so he wouldn't have to. That way, it stayed stationary and up front, so it wouldn't fall out. It was charmed to stick.

"And here's Mister Potter," said a warm voice from the doorway. Harry stopped mid-sentence, and whirled around.

"Father Christmas!" Harry said, awestruck. "Is it really you?"

"It is indeed. How did you like the Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe?"

"It is you!" Harry cried, remembering the book that had been set carefully beside his bed in the cupboard the previous Christmas. Before he could stop to think he ran forward and hugged Father Christmas, laughing and almost crying at the same time. "I loved it! Thank you - thank you so much for remembering me every year!"

Father Christmas returned the hug, and looked down at Harry fondly.

"You are most welcome."

Harry beamed, and bounded over to the Big Book again, where Father Christmas was now flipping pages.

"Harry, this year something wonderful has happened," Father Christmas said, smiling. "Your name has always been right here, in between these two pages. But this year, it isn't."

Confused, Harry looked at Father Christmas. "Sir?" he asked.

"That means that a gift is awaiting you on Christmas. A friend, perhaps?"

"Really?" Harry said, astounded. "Hagrid, maybe? My friend Ron?"

"I do not know, but as the book has not recorded your name this year, someone has thought of you. And so I will not be there this year to give you a gift. However, I have found that it is I that need your help this year. I thought that giving you a chance to give back might be the best gift for you after all these years. Surely Merry has discussed my dilemma?"

"Yes sir, and I'd love to!" Harry said eagerly. "Who am I going with? Who am I helping?"

"I think he'll be a moment yet, as he's getting suited up," said Father Christmas. "First, a matter of business; the larger organization I am part of requires a simple signature from anyone agreeing to complete the rounds. Yours is simple - as you are just a helper."

He handed it to Harry. It was easily readable to him, opting out of complicated legal terms and instead employing the vocabulary an eleven year old would understand.

"What does obliviated mean?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"It's just a charm that makes you forget a certain thing," said Father Christmas. "It doesn't hurt. If you chose not to help or sign and have to go back on it you would merely be returned to Hogwarts without any memory of coming here. Unfortunately we have to do that, just to protect the operation."

"But I can keep my memory of coming here if I do it?"

"Well, I think I rather owe you that if you give me a hand, so yes," Father Christmas said with a smile. "Anyone who helps gets to remember the experience. You must however keep it a secret."

"Okay," Harry said, grinning as he signed the paper.

"Marvelous," said Father Christmas. "And just in time too, I think I hear the door to the wardrobe room opening, so it is time we meet your companion. It might be a bit interesting, the two of you working together, but I think you two have more in common than you might think. I told him the same - he doesn't know who is helping him yet but he's agreed to give me a hand."

Sure enough, Harry heard the squeaking of hinges. Father Christmas led the way out of the book room and into the corridor. Next to the room was another, which Harry spied a few wardrobes in. The door had just been opened, and a figure stepped out of the room wearing a deep green old-fashioned overcoat, with a pair of trousers of the same fabric. The overcoat was long and had two rows of buttons and a collar lined with a dark brown fur. The hat was in the same colour, trimmed in fur as well. The boots were big and brown, and looked very warm. Harry noticed all of this in a second, and one second later a bolt of shock went through his body.

"SNAPE?"

"POTTER?"

"Ah, you do know each other well then. Good to know my sources are correct."

Harry gaped at Father Christmas, and Snape did the same. It was as though the Christmas cheer had been vaporized by the glares the two were giving each other. Harry really wondered what he'd gotten himself into, and judging by Snape's expression, so was he.

The End.
Hitting the Skies by Whitetail

"Ah, clever," growled Snape as he stared at Father Christmas, arms over his chest. "And I can't very well back out now, can I? The convenience of paperwork."

"Now, Severus, I chose the two of you because you both know how important an operation this is, how much hope it brings -" Father Christmas said steadily, looking from Harry to Severus.

"Because Potter, the Prince of the Wizarding World, knows how important this is …" Snape muttered bitterly, pulling on the gloves. "I will do it, because I am a man of my word. That does not however mean I will enjoy it."

Harry chose not to say anything, and Father Christmas looked at him, seeming to ask if he had permission to prove Snape was wrong. Harry shook his head slightly.

"I believe it is up to Harry when it comes to the subject of what he knows and doesn't, Severus," Father Christmas said firmly. "Now, if you both agree to continue with this, time is running short. Harry needs to get suited up as well, and then you two need to meet the reindeer. It's imperative they are acquainted with you two, you especially, Severus."

Harry looked at his feet as Father Christmas led him past Professor Snape, who stalked out of sight.

Father Christmas opened the wardrobe and rifled through it to the very back, where he pulled out a small, red coat, white fur lining the cuffs and collar. A pair of trousers followed, which Harry was instructed to pull over the ones he was wearing already for added warmth. Harry was able to put his book off to the side to get when he came back. When he was done that, Father Christmas went down on one knee in front of Harry and adjusted the shoulders of the coat slightly.

"Could use a good shrinking spell," said Father Christmas, waving his wand. To Harry's amazement the fabric rippled and then shrunk to fit him. "Ah. Better."

"Sir?" Harry asked quietly as Father Christmas stood back to study the effect.

"Yes?"

"Professor Snape … he really doesn't like me. Why did you ask both of us?"

Father Christmas sighed in a tired sort of way, suddenly looking much older than he did before. "The thing was, Harry ... I could not think of a pair that understood the importance of one, small gift, more than the two of you. You two have not had an easy lot.

    "You yourself have faced many difficult years, Harry, I know. Year after year I visited that cupboard of yours, and it does not get any easier seeing the way they make you live. You have been on my list since the moment you were left there. And I was on Father Christmas' list too, as a boy. In fact, all the men who are handed the position to take over were once on his list. But your situation is even more painful than mine was, and for that reason, I believe that you, most of all, understand how important a single gift can be. How important it is to know somebody cares. Do you understand?"

"Oh, I do sir," Harry said. "But Snape? He's … he's so bitter … and mean."

"Have you ever paused a moment to ask yourself why that is?" said Father Christmas quietly, and Harry looked at him in wonder. "I thought so."

"Do you think … do you think this will make him nicer?" Harry whispered slightly.

To his surprise, Father Christmas let out a deep belly laugh.

"That would be wonderful indeed. I merely hope that in doing this he will remember what Christmas means, and that kindness is preferable to hatred, at all times of the year."

"I still don't know how this will work," said Harry, shaking his head. "But I'll try anyway."

"That's my boy," Father Christmas said, patting Harry on the shoulder and handing him a pair of boots.

***

The Reindeer stamped their hooves as Father Christmas had Severus help him put all the harnesses on. Potter was busy dusting off the sleigh, the whole rig sitting in a long stable-like expanse. Severus was perfectly happy to have him around to do that at least.

"How can you see the buckles to do them up, what with all the bells?" said Severus in amazement, to which Father Christmas merely chuckled.

"Sir?" Potter asked cheerfully, perched on the front of the sleigh behind the six reindeer all lined up.

"What?" asked Father Christmas and Severus as the same time, much to Severus' chagrin.

"Father Christmas, I mean, sorry Professor," Potter said, blushing. "What I wanted to ask, is why are there only six reindeer? I thought there were eight."

"Correct, Harry. There are eight, and I will bring out my lead reindeer in a moment. First, we need to introduce you two to the ones that are here. The lead pair must be convinced of the driver's abilities, mind you. They're a lot like Hippogriffs, Reindeer. You need to earn their trust to lead them. That will be your job, Severus."

Severus nodded.

***

Harry didn't know what a Hippogriff was, but he didn't say anything because Snape seemed to make perfect sense of it, and he didn't want to look silly.

Harry jumped out of the sleigh and tagged along beside Snape as Father Christmas stood by the back pair of Reindeer.

"These two here are Caspian and Comet."

"I don't remember hearing about a reindeer named Caspian."

The question was on the tip of Harry's tongue, but to his amazement it had been Snape who said it. He looked at his Professor, who scowled slightly under his gaze.

"Ah, yes, my reindeer are not the same ones as those in folklore, although Comet here got his name thanks to that. A little tradition is nice, and he seemed to be the type. He is one of the most agile I have. Caspian, Comet, do say hello."

To Harry's delight and amazement, the two reindeer, with their gleaming eyes and shining coats, bowed their heads slightly toward Harry and Snape.

"Next up we have the pair in front of them, the oldest of the lot - they've been pulling this sleigh for twenty years and keep trotting out to help every year no matter what I do. That will be the magic in them. Magical reindeer live around thirty years, which is a far cry more than regular ones. Anyway, enough chatter. I give you one of two female reindeer I currently have who are both fast and strong enough to pull this sleigh, Rain. Beside her is her long time mate, Royal."

They bowed slightly, just as Caspian and Comet had. It was indeed apparent they were older, for their coats that had faded slightly, from the customary brownish grey to almost white in places. Rain also had antlers, but hers were shorter, and Royal's where a sight to behold, tall and broad. Rain nuzzled Harry's sleeve slightly, and he rubbed her nose, which was speckled with snow-white spots.

"And these two?" inquired Snape as he stood in front of a rather antsy looking pair of reindeer as they pawed the ground expectantly. Rain gave a slight snort and the two grew still, the furthest one doing so the quickest, his ears perked up and twitching.

"Our two youngest, the far one being Halcyon. He's very fast, and quite energetic. Rain and Royal's own, you know. Then, next to him is … well, perhaps I should explain how Reindeer get their name first."

"Oh, tell us!" Harry said excitedly. Snape raised an eyebrow, and looked at Harry. Harry refused to be any less excited just because Snape was being so boring. He resisted the urge to make a face at him.

"Well, Reindeer foals are interesting in the fact that the very first name you address them with is the one they will respond to for the rest of their life, and the only one. The idea is to look the foal straight in the eyes, put your hand on its head, and say its name firmly, with plenty of emphasis so they know that it is theirs. This Reindeer here caught me by surprise … I was just about to name him with the name I'd picked out … when he stepped on my foot … and things didn't go exactly to plan."

"Go on, what is his name?" Snape said with a smirk.

"Pants," said Father Christmas, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Pants."

To Harry's amazement, Snape let out a bellowing laugh at this, and after a few moments added, "And I thought I had it bad with Severus for a title."

"Well, I could have done a lot worse, definitely," said Father Christmas, looking rather guilty. Pants the Reindeer looked down slightly, like he was upset they were laughing. "There there, Pants, you're one of the best Reindeer I have - not every young reindeer is even fit to pull this sleigh. Besides, a name is not important - it is the actions taken under it that are."

Snape's grin slipped, and Harry wondered for a moment what he was thinking about.

"Hi Pants," Harry said, scratching around his antlers gently. Pants let out a huff of appreciation. Harry looked up when Snape spoke.

"And the last? The lead pair?" Snape inquired.

Father Christmas turned his head up to the roof, and called loudly, "Atlas! Calypso!"

In a flash that sent silver sparks to the ground two Reindeer burst into being in front of them, a male and a female, Atlas and Calypso. The two trotted around the trio standing by the sleigh and stopped in front of Father Christmas.

***

"Was that apparition?" Severus said, intrigued and more amazed than he wanted to admit.

"Indeed it was. How else do you think the Reindeer can transport this sleigh at the speed needed? The sparks seem to be a side effect of their abilities. They all do that. It's quite a sight to see them all do it at once when you're in the sleigh.

"Calypso, Atlas, this is Severus. He will be filling in for me tonight."

The two reindeer stopped in front of Severus. He looked to Father Christmas questioningly, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do.

"Bow to each of them in turn," said Father Christmas cheerfully. The one closest to you, with the reddish-brown coat and smaller antlers is Calypso. She is a female.

Thinking that this couldn't be much different than with Hippogriffs, Severus bent low, trying to keep his eyes on the sharp antlers. Calypso's dark eyes surveyed him. After a moment, Severus straightened up. Calypso did a circle around Severus, surveyed him, and then stopped in front of him again. She bent her front legs and sunk into a bow as well.

"That's one," said Father Christmas gladly. "She's fairly easy to impress, so no surprises there. Atlas, come forward."

Severus took in the brawny form of Atlas, whose coat was almost pure silver, although he seemed to be much younger than Royal and Rain. Severus had to admit that he was a fine specimen. His underbelly was pure white, and in addition to this there was a strip of white that stretched up around his neck. His eyes were so dark they seemed black, and behind them there seemed to be a sort of fire. Easily the tallest of the reindeer, his head leveled off at Severus' chest. Atlas snorted slightly, shuffling his hooves.

Severus bowed.

Atlas didn't look impressed. He snorted.

"Back away, Severus," said Father Christmas sharply.

"Watch out, Professor!" he heard Potter call as Atlas reared up.

Severus could tell that Atlas was going to charge the second he reared, and he backed away as quickly was possible, stumbling out of the door frame and outside.

"Best run!" called Father Christmas as Atlas shook his horns and lowered his head, heading straight for Severus "He won't chase you too far!"

Severus wasted no time, and he turned his back and bolted. He could hear Atlas snorting and huffing behind him as he ran through the snow, sending it flying on all sides.

"Great idea!" Severus called back sarcastically at Father Christmas as he leaped over the frosted wooden fence, scowling and picturing his epitaph (Here lies Severus Snape, tragically gored to death by a reindeer). "Oh yeah, he loves me!"

The fence didn't slow Atlas down a bit, but unfortunately the trough sitting on the other side impeded Severus. He tripped and went flying in the snow, losing a boot as he did so. He rolled onto his back just in time to see Atlas take a flying leap over the fence. Severus swore he saw his life flash before his eyes as the reindeer landed with a thud overtop him, hooves thundering down on either side of him, Atlas' shaggy mane of a neck bending low so he could stare Severus in the eyes. Off in the distance Severus could hear Potter and Father Christmas running out into the snow.

"Atlas, stand down!" called Father Christmas.

The reindeer made no move, and stared at Severus with murder in his eyes, his horns lowering and looking ready to pound Severus to a pulp. Pinned beneath the reindeer, Severus wildly thought of what to do. Yet another image of himself being squashed to death by a reindeer filled his mind.

Then the solution occurred to him. What was he thinking? He'd done this sort of thing hundreds of times, only with Death Eaters. It was a show of confidence; that was all. Severus concentrated for a split second, willing his nerves to turn to steel.

"Go ahead, gore me if you want!" Severus growled, putting on his fiercest expression possible and staring deep into Atlas' fiery eyes. "I dare you."

The reindeer stared, lowered his horns slightly, and snorted.

Severus didn't flinch, but smirked instead.

Atlas paused, his narrowed, dark eyes widening slightly as though in surprise. His ears pricked. Then, to Severus' relief and amazement, he backed away, allowing Severus the freedom to move.

Slowly, Severus got to his feet, snow showering from his deep green uniform.

"Better," he said firmly to Atlas, clasping his gloved hands behind his back.

Off in the distance, Severus caught a glimpse of Potter and Father Christmas. They seemed to be holding their breath.

Atlas moved quite suddenly, and Severus froze. Then, before he knew what was happening, Atlas reared and bent his front legs, resting them on Severus' shoulders, his face inches from Severus, his eyes no longer fiery but warm as they stared straight in Severus' eyes.

Severus realized what would happen next the second before it did. Atlas head butted him. It wasn't all that hard - in fact for a reindeer Severus supposed it must have been light - but it certainly knocked him off his feet.

He opened his eyes slightly to see the reindeer staring at him almost lovingly, and to his further amazement Atlas sunk down into the snow and started nibbling his hair.

"What the hell did he do that for?" Severus asked dazedly as Father Christmas whooped and celebrated, climbing over the fence with surprising agility for a man his age.

"That's how male reindeer show their loyalty - the head reindeer in particular. You're lucky Calypso is a girl. When I did this I had to impress two male reindeer. I saw stars for a week! Of course … usually they don't chase you first …"

"Huh, you know, I guessed that," Severus said getting up out off the ground and dusting the snow off his green jacket and trousers, as well as putting his lost boot back on. Atlas got up and trotted happily after Severus as he made his way back to the barn, this time through the gate.

"I think he's rather taken," said Father Christmas fondly as Atlas kept trying to nibble at Severus' jacket. He pushed him away slightly.

Severus paused to glare at Potter, who was standing in the doorway of the barn in rapture.

"Sir!" Potter said, almost running to keep up with Severus' fast pace. "That was awesome! Atlas just … just stopped right in his tracks!"

Severus looked at Potter in surprise as he led Atlas and Calypso over to the sleigh, on Father Christmas' instructions.

"Well, it could have gone worse," Severus said, too shocked to think of anything else to say.

"Harry, come over here so I can show you how the delivery system works," Father Christmas called from the sleigh, a twinkle in his eyes.

Severus watched Potter go. He shook his head slightly and continued to do the buckles on Atlas' harness. Potter was a mystery.

***

Harry ran over to the sleigh, full to the brim with energy after the excitement.

"Between you and me, I haven't heard of a reindeer taking to anyone like that," Father Christmas whispered, looking pleased.

"I thought he was a goner," muttered Harry in awe. "But he just … just glared at him. He does the same thing in class!"

"That's another reason why I asked him to do this," said Father Christmas with a chuckle. "From what I've heard he runs a very tight ship. Yet, despite the way he acts, he hasn't quite forgotten the importance of Christmas."

"Really?" Harry said in disbelief as Father Christmas gave Harry a leg up to get up into the sleigh, which was quite tall. "I mean, these past couple weeks you'd think he'd eaten a lemon the way he's been snapping at people."

"Oh, there's some Christmas spirit in there yet," was the whispered reply. "Just look at him."

Harry spared a glance at Snape, who was scratching around Calypso's ears. He was smirking. Snape seemed to have relaxed slightly. Harry hoped Snape would warm up to him too, although not in the same way as the reindeer. Harry felt he would probably send Snape to get his head checked out if he started scratching around Harry's ears to show friendship. The image made Harry want to laugh.

"Enough chit-chat," said Father Christmas. "The Big Book stays fastened on this shelf at the front of the sleigh, as you can see. For the journey the book organizes the names by where they live, rather than alphabetical order. When you get the sack of gifts, all you need to do is tell the bag the name of the child you are visiting next. It is enchanted, and will levitate the gift out into your hands, and prevent anything from falling out during sharp turns. That's all there is to it. Now, you'll have to work through the book in order, as it's set up for the fastest route. All you need to do is inform Severus of what area you are going to, or house. He'll tell the reindeer, as Atlas and Calypso only listen to the driver. They will take you two there no problem. Have you got all that?"

"Yes sir," Harry said. "But how do we deliver the presents to the kids?"

"Ah, I knew you would ask that."

"I was thinking the same thing, actually," said Snape, who had come over to the edge of the sleigh.

"It's quite easy, really. There are two ways. One, apparition. The coats are charmed to silence the sound of apparition, and the boots that you two are wearing silence your steps; you may have noticed that your feet make no sound. The idea is to apparate into into the house and place the gift at the foot of the child's bed so they find it. If it is a whole family of children who are receiving the gifts - take a look at the situation they are in - sometimes you may place all of the gifts in one place, say under a Christmas tree. Some parents can know that the gifts appeared, but in less than ideal situations, they can't. Harry, you will need to read the precautions for each child that must be taken during delivery. Severus, pay close attention to those."

Both Harry and Snape nodded.

"Um, sir?" Harry muttered. "What's apparition?"

"Witches and Wizards, when they are older, learn how to disappear and reappear somewhere else at will," Father Christmas said.

"Oh, okay," Harry said, understanding now why it would be advantageous for reindeer to do the same thing.

"What's the second way to get in?" Snape asked.

"The chimney, of course," said Father Christmas. "If they have one, although most wizarding households should. The coats you two are wearing aren't just festive. There should be a little bag in each of your jacket pockets - check now."

Both Snape and Harry reached into the pockets of their jackets, and each came up with a small drawstring pouch.

"The bag is charmed to show up in your pockets even if you drop it or leave it behind. Now, all you need to do is take a pinch from that bag, and toss it to the ground while you are standing beside a chimney or on top of one. It acts as a sort of floo powder, and you will disappear and reappear in the fireplace just as with floo powder."

"Sorry, but what's floo powder?" Harry asked, feeling stupid.

"It's a mode of transportation for wizards," Father Christmas patiently explained. "You throw a bit in the fire, and you walk into the flames and say where you want to go, and it takes you to a fireplace in that location."

"Oh."

"And that is that?" Snape said, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," said Father Christmas. "And without further ado, let's get the both of you in the sleigh and hitting the skies."

Father Christmas handed the reins to Snape, who had gotten into the sleigh, and then he nudged Harry into the bench-like front seat as well. They both sat down, and Father Christmas hopped off onto the floor.

"Severus, give the reins a slap and address the head reindeer," said Father Christmas as he opened the large doors at the end of the barn. "Tell them to bring the sleigh out. The runners are charmed, so it will slide just as well on other surfaces as snow, like the dirt floor here."

"Atlas, Calypso, bring out the sleigh," Snape said, sounding rather bewildered as he took the leather reins and hit them against the front of the sleigh.

The sleigh runners groaned as they were dragged along the dirt floor, but it moved with surprising ease.

"Woah," Snape said when the Reindeer had pulled the sleigh out into the snowy landscape.

"Now, we just have to wait a moment for Merry to bring out the gifts."

Harry watched patiently as Merry ran out through the snow, grinning from ear to ear and holding an alarmingly small sack, considering. Father Christmas was definitely right in saying that it was magic. Harry could hardly imagine three small boxes fitting in it, let alone gifts for all the wizarding children in the UK that had no gifts coming to them.

"Merry wishes you two good luck!" squeaked the elf as he handed the feather light sack to Harry, who thanked the elf.

"Well, now that you have that all sorted, you two had better be off," said Father Christmas. "Just remember, make sure you are back by sunrise, and when you arrive, if I am not back Merry will meet you to take you to the Yuletide time turner. It activates at 8:30 sharp, and once only. Otherwise you will have to show up late on Christmas morning! You should have plenty of time, however. The journey usually only takes until five-o-clock in the morning to complete, and you would do well to be done by that time, as people begin to get up not long after that. Any questions?"

"I don't think so," Harry said. Snape looked thoughtful for a second, but did not say anything.

"In that case, go ahead, Severus. Call out all the Reindeer's names to get their attention, and tell them to fly. Harry will give you the first location, and all you have to do is call it out and they'll take you straight to the address and land in the most convenient spot. I shall stay here for the launch, and then I must be off to France to fix that book."

***

Severus frowned.

"That's it?" he said, bewildered. "You aren't even going to do a test flight with us?"

"Oh, very little can go wrong with this kind of thing, I assure you," said Father Christmas. "Go on."

Severus looked at Potter, wondering if he thought this was as crazy as it seemed. Potter just grinned.

Resisting the urge to curse under his breath, Severus took the reins.

"One more thing, Severus," said Father Christmas, his eyes crinkled and laughing. "While the sleigh is charmed to make sure that you stay in your seat, and make your feet remain firmly planted at all times during flight, do try not to do any fancy maneuvers. No barrel rolls! That might make the reindeer dizzy."

"Very funny," muttered Severus while Potter snickered behind his mittens.

Thinking that it was now or never, and the sooner he did this favour the sooner he could be in bed, Severus slapped the reins and bellowed in the rhythm he'd always heard in stories: "On Atlas, On Calypso, Royal and Rain, Comet and Caspian, Halcyon … and … On Pants!"

Ignoring Potter's laughter, Severus slapped the reins once more, and quite suddenly the Reindeer lifted their hooves and started to run.

Father Christmas slid by with the trees and snow, and then came the stuttering jumping of the reindeer as they fought to raise the sleigh. The shuddering thumps of the runners rising and falling made Severus' teeth rattle, and beside him he could hear Potter exclaim in shock every so often. Then, as though gravity had suddenly shifted, the sleigh shot from the ground and the Reindeer curved up in a graceful arc. Severus pulled the reins and they turned sharply left, spiraling higher and higher up into the snowy air.

"Er, level off!" he called to the reindeer as he pulled the reins back, and they did. For a moment they soared above Father Christmas' workshop, the twinkling lights down below saying goodbye to them.

Off in the distance they could see Father Christmas giving them one final wave before going inside. The sky stretched before them like a vast ocean, and the world below them had become a miniature.

"What did we get ourselves into, Potter?" Severus said dazedly, half shocked and half amazed. "I am dreaming. I must be."

"Well if you're dreaming, sir, then so am I!" Potter said breathlessly as he stared over the side of the sleigh, his mittens gripping the railing. "This is going to be amazing!"

And for once, Severus couldn't disagree.

The End.
Sparks Over Cokeworth by Whitetail

"Well, Potter, what's keeping you?" Snape barked as they soared across the countryside. "Where do we go first?"

"Hang on," Harry said, opening the Big Book, which was very firmly held on its shelf. The cold air whipped his hair, and he pulled his hat further down on his head. It seemed to be magic, because the warmth it gave of was wonderful. His jacket and trousers were the same, and he hardly felt the cold at all.

Scanning the first page, Harry found the name.

"Suzie and Jeffery Hopps," he said. "Looks like we're starting along the countryside. Number three Thistle Road"

"Hold on, Potter," Snape said, then called out the address to the reindeer.

With a startling crash of bells and flurry of sparks the sleigh shuddered, and the world disappeared for a fraction of a second. When the darkness cleared Harry looked down below at the stretching farmland, which had appeared seemingly out of nowhere as the remaining sparks from the Reindeer spiraled past.

"Amazing!" Snape said, to Harry's amazement. "Not even painful like normal apparition!"

Knowing he had best do his job right, Harry busied himself with reading the precautions.

"She has a cat sir, so be careful not to trod on it because it sleeps by the fire. Looks like you can go in through the floo."

Snape nodded as the rooftop got closer and closer. The reindeer soared in, and landed with an amazing amount of softness atop the roof.

"It's slippery sir, so be careful," Harry added, glancing at the snow and ice.

"I am not an idiot, Potter," snapped the Professor as he jumped out of the sleigh.

Harry called out the children's names to the sack, and two small gifts shot out of it and into Harry's hands. He gave them to Snape, who put them under one arm and grabbed a pinch of the floo powder from his pocket. He walked carefully toward the chimney.

***

Severus supposed that the boots he had on were charmed to grip the ice and the steep angle as well, because it was relatively easy moving across the roof. He was irked that Potter had warned him to be careful. Like the boy knew anything about being careful.

The pinch of floo powder he had taken was quickly cast at the foot of the chimney by his feet. In a whirl off fire he appeared in the fire, and stepped out. Indeed, there was a cat, and he carefully stepped over it. It remained sleeping, for his boots were silent as Father Christmas had said.

The house was still and quiet, and he felt like a ghost as he walked without a sound over the wood floors. The iron stove sizzled slightly, and the heat that radiated from the dying coals was pleasant. Severus saw the staircase, and he made his way up it. He supposed the two children must have been there somewhere. When he saw the drawn pictures taped to the door with images of tractors, and also of princesses, he assumed that they shared. Then, just as he was about to open the door, the floor creaked. Heart hammering, Severus saw the door at the end of the hall open, and a man in his forties came out, looking haggard and tired as he scratched his head and stumbled toward Severus, his dressing gown drawn tightly around him.

The man looked straight through Severus, not seeing him as he went downstairs. A light turned on in the kitchen, and the clinking sound of a glass could be heard. Carefully, when he was sure that the man wasn't looking, Severus tried the door. It didn't squeak, so he crept inside. There were two children, fast asleep. The boy looked to be five at the most, and the girl not much older. Carefully, Severus placed the two packages on their shared bedside table. He spared them a glance for a second, then went back to the door. He listened a moment, his years of spying allowing him to pick out the smallest traces of sound. Footsteps came up the stairs, and passed by the door. The creak of a door at the end of the hall once more. With one last glance at the children in their beds, Severus stepped out of the room and went to the fireplace. He threw a pinch of powder in the fire and stepped in. He reappeared on the roof. He smirked slightly.

"How did it go?" Potter asked eagerly.

"Fine," said Severus, not elaborating. Potter seemed slightly disappointed. "Next house."

Severus jumped back in the sleigh.

"Hyah!" he said to the Reindeer as he grabbed the reins. With utmost silence the Reindeer shot into the sky, using much less takeoff space than was required before. They were experts of flight, and not a moment after they had hit the sky did Severus call out the next address given to him by Potter.

And so began the process again.

 ***

Harry wasn't sure how many houses they'd gone to, but the speed at which they did so was amazing. The countryside homes were done first, which Harry presumed was because many were farms and thus required early risers. Snape hardly spoke to Harry, which Harry was alright with. It left him to take in the beauty of the swirling snow that was falling in many areas of the United Kingdom that night. Other places it was raining, but luckily the sleigh seemed to be equipped with charms to repel both rain and snow, and so they did not get wet.

Thankfully, things were going well. Snape was only sharp with Harry on occasion, usually when Harry got distracted by the often beautiful sights.

"Sir?" Harry said after a while, when they were taking a few minutes to get to the outskirts of London per instructions of the book. A little note had said that on this leg of the journey it was okay to let the Reindeer rest a little and simply fly the ten minutes that was required.

"What?" Snape said, looking tired as he rubbed his face with a free hand.

"Why did Father Christmas choose you for this?" Harry asked. "Did you know him before this?"

"I might ask the same of you, Potter," said Snape sharply, looking at Harry as though he'd done something sneaky to get there.

Harry didn't want to tell Snape about the Dursleys. Snape was clearly not going to divulge anything of the reason for him being in the sleigh at the moment either, and as Harry hardly wanted to start, he sighed.

"Right," Harry said. "I guess we'll both just have to accept we have our reasons."

***

Of all things for Harry Bloody Potter to say, that was one of the last things Severus would have expected him to come up with, let alone any eleven year old. Potter basically had just said that he wouldn't pry, and that if Severus didn't ask, neither would he. Strange. Potter baffled him sometimes. It amazed him, and despite the fact that Potter was a spoiled brat, for the moment, he didn't want to chuck him out of the sleigh.

But still, why on earth would Potter be here? What made Father Christmas think that Potter was a good candidate for this? The kid had been waited on his whole life! He'd had everything that Severus hadn't as a child.

"Sure Father Christmas didn't just want to give the famous boy who lived another go at getting everything he wanted?" Snape said coldly. It was a low thing to say, and he knew it. The second it came out of his mouth he regretted it. Potter hadn't pried too much before this. He'd been much less a headache than usual, that was for sure.

"That's not who I am, sir," muttered Potter, sinking into his seat and looking at his feet.

The boy didn't even fight back. He just took it, and swallowed the insult like it was medicine. With no friends to scowl at comments pointed his way, Harry Potter simply let it slide.

"Good," Severus said, because he didn't know what else to say, and he didn't know how he could take it back. Sure, Potter was a brat, but the comment had come unprovoked.

Severus shook his head. What was Father Christmas thinking? He wasn't a good enough man to do this job. He was just Severus Snape, Death Eater, traitor, killer of the only one he'd loved, and insulter of children. Scum, in other words.

Sighing slightly, Severus glanced over the edge of the sleigh. The world below had lit up like fire as the outskirts of London came into view. It was beautiful, but to Severus it was empty. Potter gasped and stared.

"Right, where's out first stop in London?" asked Severus.

Flats and houses and alleyways and children on the streets, gifts dropped into homeless laps and silence all around. The system worked perfectly. No cats were stepped on, and all gifts were delivered successfully in London. There was something sort of amazing about it. Severus found it strange to pass completely unnoticed through countless homes, abusive, poor, or otherwise. It felt sort of nice though to leave something for kids that had so little. But all the while, almost nothing was said between the pair that brought hope to these children. There were simply no words to say among two so different people. Severus doubted either of them had anything in common, and as they soared away from London he wondered how much more silence he could take. Potter was being remarkably quiet. Silence was better than arguing, however, and so far they had made it halfway through the journey without any major mishaps.

"Where next?" Severus asked.

"Um, let's see …" Potter said quietly. "Wow, lots of kids here. Cokeworth."

"Cokeworth," said Severus quietly under his breath, closing his eyes a second. Cokeworth. Spinner's End. Lonely Christmases and broken arms. Cokeworth.

"Um, I don't think the reindeer heard you," Potter said hesitantly, looking puzzled by the look on Severus' face.

"That's because I wasn't addressing them, foolish boy," Severus growled. "Atlas, Calypso - Cokeworth!"

Sparks flying and bells jingling the world disappeared. The sooner this was over the better.

They reappeared the second before they hit it, the muggle cell phone tower just outside town that Severus recalled had been completed during the summer.

"LEFT!" shouted Severus as he yanked the reins to make the reindeer turn.

Potter yelled as they narrowly missed the tower, but the frightened Reindeer had turned too sharply, and Severus saw it all happening a moment before it did. They were going into a barrel roll. So much for a promise, he thought fleetingly.

They went round once, twice, and true to Father Christmas' word, everything and everyone on the sleigh stayed in its place, like super glue was sticking both him and Potter to their seats. In one dizzying second, his mouth open in silent horror and his ears full of Potter's frightened cries, he saw the dark, wet fields on the outskirts of town beneath them, upside down and his hat just about slipping off. Getting the reindeer to apparate out of the barrel roll would be hopeless, so thankfully on the third turn the Reindeer caught themselves somewhat. For a moment, relief flowed through Severus' veins, but it was all for naught. They might have been alright if it hadn't been for the loss of altitude and the bare tree arching its branches out in the moonlight, but that wasn't the case. He tried to pull the reindeer to the right, but they didn't turn quick enough, and the branches crunched and cracked.

"Watch your face, Potter!" Severus shouted as he shielded his own with his arm and they descended. Through the tree they went, the Reindeer snorting, and with a crumpling, skidding crash, they hit the earth and slid through the wet grassy slopes and down into a creek.

The silence that fell when it was over pressed in on Severus' senses, and he glanced over at Potter.

"Potter, are you alright?" Severus said, feeling his hands shaking as he pried Potter's arm from around his head and took a look. "Good, just a few scratches. Okay. You didn't hit your head?"

"N-No sir," Potter said. He glanced over at the Reindeer in front, which were moving and stumbling in the muddy, icy water of the creek. "But I think one of the reindeer is hurt."

Severus felt the blood drain from his face as he looked at the feebly stirring reindeer that had yet to regain its feet. He vaulted himself out of the sleigh. He held out his hand.

"Come on, Potter, I might need your help," he said sharply, knowing now was not the time to be picky. Potter stared at a second, surprised, then took Severus' hand and got out of the sleigh, which was sitting at an odd angle.

Over to the reindeer they went, and it was immediately clear that it was Rain who was injured.

"Oh Rain, Rain, what have I done?" Severus said before he could stop himself, his heart hammering erratically as he sunk down to her level, not caring that the mud and water of the creek rose above his boots and poured in.

"Broken leg, sir, look," Potter said quietly from the bank, pointing to her back leg. There was no blood, but it was at an angle that was clearly unnatural.

"Okay Potter, help me unhitch her," said Severus. "Come on, start the buckles on that side."

Without a moment of hesitation, for which Severus was both surprised and grateful, Potter waded down the small bank and into the creek too, unbuckling the strap around Rain's belly.

"That tower, that stupid tower," Severus said as he fumbled to undo the straps around her head, the reindeer around her snorting with worry. "Shh, Royal, Halcyon, it's alright we'll fix her, I promise. That stupid tower - I remember them building it this summer - what an eyesore …"

Potter looked up, confused.

"You know this place?"

"Help me get the harness free so I can get her out of the water," Severus said quickly before he had to reply. "I'm going to levitate her into the sleigh. We have to take here somewhere she can rest. I can heal the leg, but she won't be able to use it for a few hours without caution. Landing and taking off is out of the question."

"Where will we take her?"

"I'm working on it," muttered Severus while he mentally considered his parents' old bedroom and how comfortable it would be for a reindeer.

Severus waved his wand, and Rain was slowly lifted out of the water. He twisted his wand slightly and directed her toward the bank, where he set her down gently and cast a drying charm on her, as well as a warming charm.

"Alright, time to get the rest of these reindeer out of the creek," Severus told Potter. "Go down the line on your side to see if any are hurt."

Silently, the two of them walked past each reindeer, and besides a few minor scratches, which Severus healed with a swish of his wand, the others were fine. Then, Severus unhitched Calypso, and brought her around to put her next to Royal. Royal nickered and looked off to where Rain was.

"She'll be fine," said Potter, stroking Royal's head.

"Sorry, Calypso," muttered Severus. "You're needed back here. Atlas is leading now."

Carefully, Severus stepped through the wet, muddy stream, and got to the front of the lineup and adjusted the harnesses so that Atlas was hitched front and centre.

"Alright, Atlas, lead them out of the water, carefully," Severus called. "Potter, stand back."

Obediently, Potter backed out of the stream.

***

"Wait!" Harry cried. "Sir, there's a rock in front of the runner on my side. We'll have to move it before they can pull the sleigh forward."

"Woah!" called Professor Snape, and the reindeer stopped straining. Snape walked around the back of the sleigh and to where Harry was. "Good eyes, Potter."

Harry watched as Snape waved his wand, and with a gritty clunking noise the rock rolled out of the way.

"Forward!" he called.

Side by side they watched as the sleigh - which slid easily through the water and mud thanks to the slippery, enchanted runners - was shifted from the water. With a quick spell, Rain was lifted into the sleigh and tucked into the back. Then, Harry watched Professor Snape take a hold of Atlas's harness and lead him forward with the sleigh, out toward the clearing ahead. Once the area was free, Snape glanced at his watch.

"What time is it, sir?" asked Harry.

"Two thirty in the morning," said Snape tiredly. "Get in the sleigh, Potter."

Harry did as he was told, and watched his Professor examine Atlas.

"Well, here we go," Snape said to the reindeer. "Are you and the others fit to fly?"

Atlas looked up, and with a snort he pawed the ground and brought his head up and down in a nodding motion. The other reindeer followed suit. Snape went back to the sleigh and jumped up. Harry watched as Snape clamoured into the back of the sleigh and bent over Rain. He took out his wand, and he held it to her wound, muttering a complex string of words. There was a snap as the leg repositioned itself, and Rain kicked a front limb. Snape put his free hand against her coat to steady her. A few more muttered words and the limb gave off a blue light. Snape patted Rain's flank then climbed into the front seat again.

"Onward and upward," Snape said under his breath, looking apprehensive as he took the reins again. He glanced to the back of the sleigh, where Rain was sitting, huffing slightly.

Harry looked back at her too, worried.

"She will be fine," Snape said when he noticed where Harry was looking.

Harry nodded, and then with a shout Snape had the reindeer rearing and charging. One thump. Two thumps. Three, and they left the ground behind.

"Spinner's End!" Snape cried to them.

Harry looked to Snape, wondering what place that was, because the name was not on the page designated next in the rounds.

The reindeer reappeared on the street. In the still night, the looming image of a smokestack in the distance met Harry's eyes.

"Where are we, sir?"

Harry looked over to Professor Snape, who was staring off at the crumbling smokestack like it was a ghost from another life.

"Sir, where are we?" Harry whispered.

The End.
A Reindeer in Tobias’ Bed by Whitetail

"This is where I grew up," Snape said slowly. "And where I live during the summer."

"Really, sir?" Harry said. "It's so …"

"Depressing?" Professor Snape asked dully. "Falling apart?"

Potter didn't respond.

"Come on," said Snape. "There's only one place we can put a reindeer short notice that I can think of."

"Why not Hogwarts?"

"We would probably have to fly into the grounds - there are enchantments to stop apparition, and they might extend to reindeer," Snape said curtly as he maneuvered into the back of the sleigh and levitated Rain, who looked surprised.

"It's okay, Rain," Harry said encouragingly.

She nickered slightly as she was set on the street, her hooves clattering slightly on the pavement.

***

Severus smirked, reaching into the sleigh and grabbing a spare halter that had been in the back. He fastened it around Rain's head, and then led her toward his front door.

He looked to Potter, just daring him to say something about how run down it was.

"You've lived here since you were a kid, sir?" Potter asked, curious.

"Yes," Severus said with a scowl, pulling a rusted key out of his pocket and sliding it into the lock. "And if you divulge this location to any other student you will be in detention until you graduate. Understand?"

"Yes sir. Hang on, if you live here, and always have, where do your parents live?"

Severus ignored the question and pushed the squeaking door open. He put the key back in his pocket, then shut the door behind him. He waved his wand, and the gas lamps lit up the book-filled entranceway.

"And you're okay with putting a reindeer in your house?" Potter asked, flabbergasted.

"As if I care," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I know the perfect place for her."

Severus led the reindeer carefully through the sitting room, then pushed away the bookshelf that led to the staircase.

"Okay, Rain, up we go," Severus said. "Potter, you go up first - I don't want you behind her in case she doesn't like going up and kicks."

***

Harry looked up the dimly lit staircase, and cautiously, he began his way up. The pictures along the walls were dusty and old, and he could not help but examine them as he went up.

"Sir, who is that?"

"My mother," Snape said curtly. "Dead. Now keep going up or I'll tie a halter to you too."

"Are there any pictures of your father?"

"No, I burned them; now quit asking questions."

It came across as almost like a joke, but Harry thought it wasn't.

"Is he dead too, sir?"

"No idea," Snape spat, pushing past Harry when they got to the landing. He elbowed a door at the end open, then backed into the room, leading Rain in.

Harry looked at Snape curiously, wanting to ask what happened but thinking perhaps it was better not to. He looked around the room. It was clean, but seemed like it hadn't been touched for years. A thick layer of dust was on everything. Snape pulled Rain a little further into the room, and when he wasn't looking, Harry picked up the picture frame on the bedside table and dusted it off. It was a picture of Snape, it seemed, when he was a child, perhaps three years old. A woman in a polka dotted dress was holding him and smiling.

"Give that back," snapped Snape, taking the photo and dusting it off before placing it exactly where it had been.

"Sorry sir," Harry said. "It's just, it's cool to see pictures of you as a kid."

"Well, if you keep snooping the only pictures there will be of you will be from when you were a kid, so give me a hand getting this reindeer on the bed."

"Sir? Why are we putting a reindeer in the bed?"

An alarming grin had spread over Snape's face.

***

"This was my parents' room, Potter," Severus said, unable to fight the mischievous smile that had crept over his features. "My mother always preferred the bed in the spare room. This was my father's bed. I think we owe Rain a nice comfortable stay on the old man's bill, don't you?"

Potter stared, and for a moment Severus wasn't sure how he would react. Then he started to laugh. Severus couldn't help it either, and perhaps it was the late night, or the glowing joy of knowing he was letting a reindeer sleep in his hated father's bed, but he started to laugh as well. A hysterical three in the morning type of laugh, matching Potter's.

Their laughs died down in a moment, and then Potter pulled back the covers.

"Jump -" Severus began, addressing the reindeer. He had to stop a moment to catch his breath as a laugh emerged again. "Jump up Rain."

The reindeer stared, then lightly leaped up onto the mattress and curled up.

Severus waved his wand, and a little dish of water appeared on the side table, and a pile of lettuce on the pillow.

"Sleep well - we'll be back near the end of the night after you've rested a few hours," he said, still trying not to laugh. "Enjoy Tobias' bed!"

Then, laughing, he and Potter left the room, shutting the door.

***

Harry stared at the tarnished handle before them.

"You just tucked a reindeer into your Dad's bed," Harry said numbly. "You really just did that."

"It wasn't as though I would let her have my room," Snape said, still holding back a laugh. "And if that old bastard ever shows up on this doorstep again, I will only say it serves him right for leaving!"

Snape seemed to be in such a good mood, he hadn't noticed what he'd said. Harry stood at the top of the stairs a second, watching his chuckling Professor as he went back down the stairs.

Serves him right for leaving. At that moment, a conversation from earlier in the night was brought to mind, and the words echoed in Harry's head.

"But Snape?" Harry had said to Father Christmas. "He's … he's so bitter … and mean."

"Have you ever paused a moment to ask yourself why that is?" had been the reply.

No, he hadn't. But he thought he understood a bit better now.

A voice called up the stairs, dragging Harry out of his thoughts.

"Well, come on, Potter!" Snape said, sounding strangely cheerful. "We had best be going if we want to get all those gifts delivered!"

"Coming, sir," Harry called back, starting down the stairs and watching the faces of the pictures slide away as he descended.

A moment or two later the two of them were back out on the street and in the sleigh.

"The next place isn't too far, I think" muttered Harry, thinking he'd gotten a glimpse of a sign with the street name nearby.

Snape bent over and read the address before taking up the reins and calling it out.

"Number 12 Cobbler Road," he said.

And the reindeer launched themselves into the sky, flying a street over and landing.

"Potter, there are two houses on this street to deliver to," Snape said. "You can go through the chimney in 12, and I'll apparate into number 14. We need to make up some time."

Harry called out the names for the gifts, and took the one for number 12. He gave Snape the other one.

"Good luck, sir!" Harry said before walking over to the chimney of the roof of number 12.

"You too," Snape said before turning on the spot and disappearing.

"Cool," muttered Harry, having never seen a witch or wizard do that.

Harry plunged his hand into his pocket, then tossed it at the base of the chimney. He tumbled out of the fire after moving in a dizzying spiral downward.

The inside of the house was very sparsely furnished. The wallpaper was old and peeling. The layout was similar to Snape's house, and so Harry presumed the bedrooms were upstairs. These people seemed to be very poor, and a door was missing on one of the bedrooms, a blanket hung in its place.

Harry pushed the blanket aside slightly, and sure enough, there was a young boy sleeping on a mattress in the corner.

Carefully, Harry bent down and placed the gift close by the boy's head.

It made Harry feel warm inside, and he smiled as he tiptoed through the house, and back to the roof, where he got in the sleigh.

Snape still wasn't back.

***

Severus knew something was wrong in number fourteen Cobbler Road the moment he walked in.. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that something felt like it had when he was a kid. It was something more than the similarities in building style, but he couldn't place it right away. The place was run down, and what caught his attention was that the furniture was sitting at odd angles, like it had been moved. Severus passed the mouth of the kitchen on the way to the stairs. There was an empty liquor bottle on the table. A chair was on its side.

He might have walked thirty years into the past and into his own childhood home. He closed his eyes, then went upstairs.

There was a door with a little butterfly shaped hanger wrapped around the door knob. Severus opened it.

The room's wallpaper was stained and peeling, and in the corner sat a bed with pink blankets on it, empty.

Severus couldn't help but panic. Where was the child? There should have been a child. Then, he heard a slight shuffling noise, and looked toward the cupboard. It was open slightly.

What if she was hurt?

He knew she might see him, but Severus knew he couldn't live with himself if he didn't check, and so he went over to the cupboard, and opened it slightly.

The little girl was curled up, her purple pyjamas wrinkled and patched. She seemed to be half asleep, but unhurt. Severus made to close the door slightly, and then a tiny little voice spoke.

"Are Mummy an' Daddy done fightin'?" whispered the little girl, rubbing her eyes.

He knew she'd seen him, so Severus answered.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The little girl opened her eyes slightly, her head nodding a little. She couldn't be four years old.

"Father Christmas?"

Severus hesitated. He remembered this part. Only that time it had been him in a corner by his bed, a broken arm and half delirious from pain, not fatigue.

"Yes, it's me," whispered Severus. "You can come out and sleep in your bed now. Everyone else is asleep."

The little girl didn't budge. Severus glanced sideways at the ribbon tied to the teddy bear that he had sticking out of his large jacket pocket. It had her name on it.

"Come on, Sarah," he said. "It's okay."

The little girl smiled, rubbing her eyes and yawning, then got up, swaying on her feet. She stumbled slightly on a blanket on the closet floor. Severus caught her before she fell, and she went limp in his arms.

Not knowing what else to do, he picked her up and he carried her to the bed. She was so small. He set her down in the nest of covers, and took the pink blanket, throwing it over her. She yawned again.

"I have something for you, Sarah," Severus said, encouraged by the smile. He pulled the teddy from his pocket. It was small, and pink. "I heard pink was your favourite colour, so I asked my elves to sew you a bear. It's a special bear, just for you."

He held it up, and she looked at him with round eyes like saucers.

"For me?" asked Sarah, her tiny fingers reaching out to gently stroke the head of the bear.

"Just for you, Sarah," Severus said, setting the bear in her arms.

"Oh, thank you Father, Christmas!" she whispered, her eyes full of tears. "Oh, thank you!"

Then, to Severus' amazement, the little girl got up on her knees and hugged him, then gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Shocked, Severus stared straight ahead.

"You're welcome," he said after a moment.

"What does the words on the ribbon say?" Sarah asked, pointing at the blue letters painted onto the ribbon.

"It says for Sarah," he began, looking down at the ribbon, "love Father Christmas."

She smiled sweetly and hugged the bear.

Severus smiled back.

"Well, Sarah, I am afraid I have a lot of other boys and girls to deliver gifts to, so we must say goodbye," he told her. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she said. "Bye Bye, Father Christmas."

"Goodbye, Sarah," he said.

Severus put his gloves back on, then turned and went to the door. He glanced back at her one last time, then opened the door quietly and left. 

He apparated out of the house, and landed back on the roof of number twelve, the cold not touching the warmth that had blossomed deep inside him.

"Sir!" Potter said, relieved. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, just a detour," said Severus, smiling slightly. "Come on. We should be going."

For the first time in many years, Severus thought, deep in his heart, that Christmas might just be worth the trouble after all.

The End.
Cupboard of Gifts by Whitetail

A quick stop at Hogwarts proved to be the easiest of all the runs. Severus did not need to worry about any of the Slytherins, as he had already arranged something with the house elves who gave him a hand every year. There were three other students who needed gifts, and Severus recognized the name of the girl in Gryffindor who had been made fun of for believing. He could not help but notice that her gift seemed bigger than most he had seen yet.

"Oh, this is interesting," Potter said thoughtfully as they sat on the rooftop, somewhere not far the astronomy tower. "It says that we just have to call on one of the house elves that lives in the kitchens, and the elf will take the three presents in for the Hogwarts visits. Apparently students have a bad habit of being up at all hours, so it's too risky that we'll get caught."

"Ah, that explains it," Severus said, who had been wondering how they would deliver gifts considering the practice of most Hogwarts students to stay up as late as possible on holidays, what with no parents to supervise them. He was glad there was a remedy for the problem too, because he shuddered to think what would happen if the students found out what he was doing tonight.

"Clever," Potter said. "Okay, here we go … Toffee!

With a little pop a small, wizened house elf appeared.

"Aha! That's how Father Christmas knew what I did every Christmas!" Severus said, recognizing the elf that helped him deliver gifts to the Slytherins every year. "Toffee, you rascal!"

As Severus had said it in a tone that denoted admiration rather than anger, Toffee bowed and grinned.

"Sorry Master Severus, but in Toffee's defense, Toffee has known Father Christmas much longer than he has been helping Master Severus."

"Well, it is a good thing somebody looks after the students here, so I suppose I should say well done," Severus admitted.

"Does Master Severus have gifts for Toffee to deliver? Father Christmas said Master Severus would be filling in."

"They're here," Potter said, looking intrigued, handing the gifts to the elf. "Their names and houses are on the tags. You know Professor Snape?"

"Toffee does," said the elf, taking the gifts. "Toffee has known Master Severus a long time, and helped Father Christmas find you two this year. The bookmark was Toffee's idea too. It should return to being just a bookmark now that the magic has worn off. Did Master Harry like it?"

"It was wonderful," Potter said.

"That will be all, Toffee," Severus said. "We had best be going. Good luck."

Toffee bowed, then disappeared with a crack.

"Where to now?" Severus asked once the elf had gone.

"Let me see …" Potter said, feeling the thickness of the remaining pages, which had gotten considerably thinner. The book was near its end.

***.

"What do you mean there isn't a gift?" Snape said later that night, sounding panicked from where they stood on a rooftop in Surrey, the deliveries almost done for the night.

"I said the name Kelly Robbins, and no gift came out of the bag for her," Harry said, horrified. "Could it have fallen out when we crashed?"

"I thought Father Christmas said it was charmed so that wouldn't happen," Snape said thoughtfully. Then, his face grew pale. "Wait, he told me in his workshop … they hadn't had time to double check all the gifts. Maybe one was left out. We might have to go back to get it. We'll deliver to the last few in the book first - there's five, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Okay, so five left," Snape continued, "and then we'll swing by the workshop, and get the gift, and return here."

"But sir, it's five AM already; it would be way too risky to go back to the workshop to get it. It might not even have been made, for all we know, and I don't know how long it takes house elves to make a gift."

"Well, what do you propose we do, then?"

Harry closed his eyes. He really didn't want to do what he was thinking, but the risk of going back to the workshop only to find out the gift still needed to be made was not something Harry wanted to chance.

"Let's just get the other gifts delivered, then figure things out from there," Snape said, and Harry nodded.

Already, however, he knew exactly where they were going to be stopping.

***

After a speedy delivery of the last gifts, Potter spoke.

"We're not going back to the shop. I know where I can find a gift for Kelly."

"And where is that?"

"Just go to Number 4 Privet Drive," Potter said. "It's where I live. I kept all of Father Christmas' gifts. There's a book Kelly will like. It says she likes to read, and she's eight. I've got the perfect book."

Severus looked over at Potter, shocked.

"So, you are going to give her something of yours?" Severus asked, surprised.

"Well, why not?" Potter said, seeming to think it odd that he was surprised.

Severus thought that it probably wasn't much of a sacrifice, considering this was Prince Potter and he probably had loads of books. Of course, if he had plenty of toys and books, then why did Father Christmas have him on his list. The only children who got anything from Father Christmas were the ones nobody gave gifts to, though, right? Severus suppressed a scoff. Father Christmas probably made an exception for The Boy Who Lived.

"Okay, fine," Severus said. "Number four Privet Drive!"

The reindeer disappeared in a flurry of sparks, taking the sleigh and its passengers straight to yet another roof.

"Well, go on," said Severus as Potter stared at the chimney.

"I can't use the chimney, sir," Potter said, frowning.

"Why not? They might hear the front door opening. And you just happen to have a key with you right now? Or will you knock on the door and wake them all up? No doubt they would come right away, although I could get it open with a spell, but where is the fun in not disturbing anyone, right?"

Potter scowled, unsurprisingly.

"They have an electric fire covering the fireplace. I don't know if the whole floo powder thing will work. So we have to apparate. But I can't."

Severus frowned.

"Alright then, side-along apparition it is," he said.

"What's that?" Potter asked as Severus took his arm firmly.

"This," Severus said.

The disappeared and reappeared in the entranceway of the house.

"Holy … holy - wow," Potter said, wheezing slightly and rubbing his head. "That's apparition?"

"Well, it's worse for the passenger," Severus said, smirking slightly. "So where is this perfect gift?"

"Um, I'll be back in a second," said Potter, sounding apprehensive.

Severus smirked again. Potter probably just didn't want to prove that Severus was right all along about him being spoiled beyond belief.

"You will need a light, will you not?" said Severus in a hushed voice. "If you turn on one in the house, someone might notice, but if I do this," - Severus raised his wand and flicked it so that a dim light emanated from it - "they won't notice."

"I should be fine, actually," Potter said quickly. "Just stay here. I'm not going far."

Severus watched Potter curiously as he went down the hall and past the foot of the stairs. He listened for a moment, glancing up. Then, he opened the cupboard under the stairs and went in.

Deciding that he wasn't listening to an eleven year old boy under any circumstances, and wondering what was in the cupboard (All Potter's toys, perhaps?) he followed.

"Lumos," he muttered, casting light in the cupboard. "It's pitch black in here. I told you you would need … light."

Potter went rigid as he held the tiny box that was sitting under the bed.

Bed?

There were a few drawn pictures on the walls, and among the cleaning supplies Severus could see a set of glasses that looked too small.

"Found it," Potter muttered, holding up a storybook (Fantastic Mr. Fox) and getting to his feet. He tried to step past Severus, but Severus blocked the way.

"What is this place?"

"A cupboard, now get out of my way," Potter said through his teeth.

"Cupboards don't have beds, Potter," Severus said. "Or old pairs of glasses that are too small and look suspiciously like they belong to a certain Harry Potter."

Potter closed his eyes.

"Quiet, my relatives will hear us," muttered Potter.

"Wouldn't they be happy to see you?"

"God, what do you think?" Potter said angrily to Snape in a voice that barely rose above a whisper as he gestured to the cupboard. "You want to know what this is?"

Severus didn't answer, because he had felt his insides grow cold, and he had the feeling that his mind was going to be changed for him.

"This is the famous Harry Potter's bedroom. Well, at least until my Hogwarts letter came and it had my address on it. The cupboard under the stairs. They moved me upstairs to Dudley's second bedroom - for all the toys he can't fit in his first one - because they were afraid someone was spying on them if Hogwarts knew where I slept. See?"

Severus didn't know how to respond, and he let Potter move past him.

The famous Harry Potter's bedroom.

Potter had left through the front door and gone out into the street. After a moment, Severus followed, making sure the cupboard was shut.

As he walked he felt like he was in a dream. He slowly came up behind Potter, who was standing with his arms crossed and staring out at the world from edge of the street, his breaths coming in furious heaves. Heaving breaths that Severus knew nobody could fake that well, the panic in them evident.

"Potter …" Severus said. "I am sorry."

Harry whipped around, shocked, the breath taken from him again.

"I'm sorry, for everything," Professor Snape repeated, white as a sheet as he stood there. "You aren't your father. You aren't spoiled. I was wrong."

***

Harry stared.

"Right," muttered Harry, not sure what else to say. "We should get going."

Snape took his arm, and in a moment they reappeared by the sleigh. They got in, and in silence they took off into the skies again.

"For what it's worth, sir," Harry said finally, unable to keep the silence, "you aren't quite what I expected either. I never really thought of what your family was like."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're kind of alike, aren't we?" Harry said hesitantly. "Both our families were … I dunno. Not the best. I mean, if your Dad left it couldn't have been easy, right?"

Snape looked to Harry for a second. Then nodded.

"This last gift, I think it is yours to deliver," Snape said, clearing his throat, the reindeer landing on the last roof of the night with a soft whump.

Harry smiled slightly, then looked down at the book.

"Sir, there's one thing though," Harry said. "It's a book, so it's got a note from Father Christmas in it, addressed to me. Can you change it with magic, so it says it's for Kelly instead?"

"I think I can manage that," Snape said, holding out a gloved hand for the book. He opened it. Sure enough it said To Harry, Love Father Christmas.

Harry watched a little sadly as Snape waved his wand and the letters of his name changed, leaving Kelly behind in ink.

"There," said Snape, unsmiling. He looked Harry in the eye, and nodded slightly. Like he understood that Harry was sad to part with it.

"Be back in a minute," Harry said quietly, getting out of the sleigh.

For the final time that night Harry stepped over to the chimney, tossed the powder down, and reappeared in someone's home. The book was set gently on the side table. The young girl went on snoring lightly, unaware of the sacrifice that had been made for her gift on her table.

"Merry Christmas, Kelly," whispered Harry before disappearing in the fire and reappearing on the roof.

"Well done, Potter," said Snape curtly.

Harry stared.

"I am allowed to say it," Snape said defensively at Harry's blank stare. "I just do not do so often."

Harry laughed, and jumped back in the sleigh.

"Let's call it a night, shall we, Professor?"

"Definitely," Snape said through a jaw-splitting yawn before adding, "Atlas, take us home."

 

***

Severus let the reindeer take the scenic route back, because they seemed tired. It was six AM, and still dark out. The clouds had cleared mostly, and up above the stars shone brightly. It only took the reindeer a half hour to get back, and on the way Potter fell asleep.

Severus was exhausted, and he was extremely glad to see the lights of Father Christmas' workshop. The landing was smooth, and the reindeer did most of the work. Potter jolted awake as the sleigh runners touched the snow, and the two of them watched as the lights of the workshop went by and the prancing reindeer slowed. Father Christmas came out of the front door, clapping and cheering.

"Bravo! Bravo! Take a bow, you two!"

Both Severus and Potter stood up. Severus glanced over at the boy, and it seemed as though the same thing was going through their heads. Severus whipped off his hat, and bowed, Potter following suit.

"Let's get these reindeer back in their stable," said Father Christmas. "I imagine they are hungry- hang on, where is Rain?"

Severus glanced over at Potter, and for a moment, they both bit back a laugh.

"Well, currently, sleeping in my father's old bed," Severus said quite seriously.

"Funny, but where is she really?" Father Christmas said.

Potter started to laugh.

"How about, how did she get there?" Father Christmas added, a hand on his forehead, his forehead creased in a bewildered way.

Severus quickly explained the crash outside of Cokeworth, and assured Father Christmas she would be alright.

"I should be able to apparate back with her now that her leg's had time to rest," Severus finished, glad for a chance to double back to Spinner's End, because he needed to get something. I wouldn't make up for how he'd treated Potter, but it was a start.

***

Harry helped Father Christmas to unhitch the reindeer while Snape returned to Spinner's End by apparition. He arrived back in a few moments, Rain by his side and the halter rope in his hand.

"See, just fine," Professor Snape said. "Right, Royal?"

Royal, who was being unhitched by Harry, nickered happily.

"Won't doubt me again, will he?" Snape said, winking at Harry, much to Harry's surprise.

Father Christmas also seemed taken aback by the cheerfulness that Snape was exhibiting.

"I think it worked!" he said in a mock whisper to Harry.

"What worked?" Snape asked, an eyebrow raised as he took Rain's halter off.

"We hoped that by doing this you'd lighten up a little, sir," Harry said, grinning.

"Ah, well, nobody's perfect," Snape said airily, but Harry could tell he was pleased.

The End.
The Future of Father Christmas by Whitetail

The reindeer were all squared away by twenty to eight, and at that time everyone went inside to have breakfast. Harry was ravenous, so he merely listened while Snape and Father Christmas discussed the night's events. Father Christmas luckily was able to go to France and have the book fixed in good time, and then to speed things up, helped with the delivery of the gifts in there. He managed to make a copy of part of the book and did one half of the country with the reserve team of Reindeer and an older sleigh while the other Santa did the rest.

Until Father Christmas told how things had gone over in France, Harry hadn't realized just how complicated overriding a Yuletide Time Turner was, as every operation had their own model of the device. Father Christmas explained in detail what they had to do to reset it so they could deliver the presents in time in France, as most people there opened gifts at midnight, according to Father Christmas. Either way, Harry was very, very glad they weren't late. He listened in silence, and savoured every bite of this breakfast, which had never tasted so good in Harry's life. By the end he was nice and relaxed, toasty all over and his cheeks glowing with warmth from being out all night.

"The Yuletide Time Turner activates in twenty minutes, so you two had best decide what time you want to go back to," Father Christmas said at last. "Severus, you mentioned you'd rather return after that staff party of yours is over. What about you Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes a second and thought hard. It seemed like a lifetime ago he had left Hogwarts.

"Well, I had gone to get my book in the Great Hall," Harry said, fingering his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that he had gotten back from the wardrobe room. "I left in the middle of a chess tournament with the Weasleys. That was around quarter to ten … so I should make it back before the Holiday curfew at ten-o-clock. Besides, I want to see if Ron beats Percy."

Snape sighed slightly.

"Well, they might be a little surprised if you get that lost in the castle and show up back at your common room around midnight," Snape said heavily. "So I suppose I will have to return before the staff party is over."

"Sorry, sir," muttered Harry.

"Believe me, I am thinking of my sanity more than anything in this scenario," Snape said. "Imagine the ruckus that would be raised if anyone thought you had gone missing."

Father Christmas chuckled.

"Father Christmas, before we go, can I say one last goodbye to the reindeer?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I think you have time," said Father Christmas. "Be back in ten minutes so I can take you two to the time turner."

Without further ado, Harry threw on the jacket he had worn earlier and the boots, and ran out the door for the stables.

 

***

"That boy has far too much energy," Severus said, shaking his head.

"Oh, I don't know," Father Christmas said with a laugh, "you looked pretty spry yourself tonight. Which reminds me. I have something I would like to tell you."

"And what might that be?" asked Severus as the two of them went into the sitting room and sunk down in chairs by the fire.

"A story. A simple story."

"A story," Severus repeated, confused.

"Yes, of how I started doing all this," he said.

"Er, alright," Severus replied, wondering where this was going. Father Christmas began, and Severus listened intently.

"When I first started this job, Severus, I was twenty-three. I was unmarried. I had no family I could go to, and was working at the Wizarding Post office in Diagon Alley. I had never been good in school, and with nothing else to do I worked all the holiday hours while my coworkers were off with their families. I had done that for three years already when it happened.

"It was December twentieth. I was working the evening shift alone, as we kept the post office open late on holidays so people could get packages sent by owl. That night, when the shop was empty and not far from closing, a man came in for some mail, which he said the post office had been holding for him, and he recognized me. Knew my name and everything. He said, 'Jeremy King, I remember you when you were a boy. How have you been?'

"I told him I was alright, but really didn't know who he was. He said I would once I got him his mail, the ones the Post Office kept that were addressed to Father Christmas. He said they were often brought in by children who were alone, and maybe didn't have the money to send it, so they just sat there. He gave me a special letter of request for them, from some organization called the Order of Christmas. It looked legitimate, and the letters weren't going anywhere, so I grabbed the big old box of Christmas letters we kept, and put them on the counter. He said he just needed to see it.

"And I watched, Severus, as he took his wand and waved it over the box, and a handful of letters drifted out to him. Do you know what he said?"

"No," Severus said, wondering the purpose of the story.

"He said, 'these are the letters from children who have nobody to give them a gift. That's what I do. I find them, and these letters help me to know what to bring boys and girls that have nothing. Because I'm Father Christmas. And so was my father, and his father before me.'"

"But why didn't he just use the book" Severus asked curiously.

"When he came for me all those years ago, less magic was known, and things were simpler then. Back then the book only told the names and locations, because spells had not been thought up for the other things. Some of those children would send letters to him, and some would find their way to his workshop. But not all that were sent, so Father Christmas, as well as elves who were often employed in post office back rooms, sifted through mail, finding the traces of the lonely children's magic in the words of the their mail, and keeping those ones. That was the only way hints of what each child liked or what their home was like could be found. The others got gifts that were less personal. Things have been improved since, but back then he went to every Post Office that he didn't have helpers at. Letters were missed, but it was all that could be done. And that was how he found me."

"What happened then" Severus asked. "Did you go with him that year? Did you believe him?"

"I thought he was crazy," said Father Christmas with a laugh. "And I told him so. I hadn't forgotten the mysterious little gifts that had ended up by my bed all those years before I got into school and made friends. But I, like you, believed someone had secretly given them to me, someone who had a big heart but was not Father Christmas.

"He left soon after, and I believed that was that. Then, while I worked Christmas Eve night by the request of my employer, just in case anyone came in to borrow an owl to send an urgent message, the only customer of the night came in. The reindeer sat outside the window, and he was wearing the suit.

"And he said, 'You can't work the night before Christmas, Jeremy. Let one of my elves keep an eye on the shop, and help me make the world a better place."

"You went, I suppose?" Severus said.

"I did," Father Christmas replied. "And that year, I rode along on the night of my life, and after we were finished, he asked me if I wanted to take over, because he had no sons."

"The rest is history, isn't it?" Severus replied with a grin.

"It is, and I suppose the point of my story, Severus, is that I haven't any sons either."

"Hang on … what?"

"Severus, I may have once been a young twenty-three year old with nobody, but for a long time I have had a wife, two lovely grown up daughters, and now a grandson on the way. The only thing close to a son I have is my daughter's muggle husband, and quite frankly, I would like to spend the rest of my Christmases without the worry of not getting back to all them on time. So of all the people I have known, of all the young men, you are the one I want to continue this. I see it in you, Severus, I really do. I haven't forgotten who you were since the day I healed your arm, and I chose you tonight for a reason."

Severus just stared, wide eyed.

"Will you take over for me?" Father Christmas said.

What was he to say? How could he possibly say yes? Sure, it had been a lot of fun, Severus had to admit, but really, him as Father Christmas? For a second, Severus stared out the window, the light just beginning to creep over the earth, the sun not long from emerging. He remembered Sarah, the little girl, and the way she smiled at him and how that kiss felt on his cheek. He remembered the sound of a sleigh crashing, but also the sound of it lifting off the ground again successfully. He remembered it all, but Severus knew that he could never be that man. Once was all he could do. Maybe he wanted to, somewhere, deep down, but he was not that man.

Sure, his Christmases were bound to be lonely again after this, and he would go back to stalking the dungeons and telling children off for being so loud, pretending he didn't care when he did and spending Christmas Eve after Christmas Eve out on the Astronomy tower and wondering what the point of Christmas was. But that was his fate, because he was Severus Snape, bitter, ex Death Eater, and bearer of more sins than could be counted. No. He was not that man. He could not be a bringer of hope after doing all those things.

"I am not a good enough man, sir," he muttered at last, staring into the heart of the fire again, his heart heavy.

"Then isn't this a good way to start?" Father Christmas said, a twinkle in his eye.

The fire cracked and popped, and Severus stared into the flames, thinking.

The End.
Time Returns by Whitetail

Harry ran inside at Father Christmas' call. The time had come for them to go to the Yuletide Time Turner, and Father Christmas led the two of them through the workshop, seeming sad that they had to go. Snape walked slowly but purposefully, like he was deep in thought. Harry wanted to ask what was on his mind, but thought it better not to interrupt. With his book under his arm, Harry followed them through a narrow little hallway, and then up a spiral staircase and into a tower that had glass windows all around in a great circle, almost like a lighthouse. In the center was an enormous set of gold hoops, with a giant hourglass in it. The whole golden apparatus was enclosed in a large, crystalline, bubble-like structure. A golden, shimmering line in the air acted like a dividing rope around the hourglass in its bubble. Father Christmas went inside the golden line for a moment, then tapped the hourglass with his wand. Harry watched as a tiny little sign sitting in front of it changed slightly. The words Entrance Hall, Hogwarts were scrawled across it, with the time 9:45 PM.

"That should take you back, directly to the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts, shortly after you two left," Father Christmas said. "You were both here by then so no danger of running into yourselves. It's a bit more advanced than most time turners, and can transport you places too. Three minutes until it activates, so you two had best get through the divider."

"Thank you so much, sir, for everything!" Harry said eagerly. "This is the best Christmas gift I ever could have gotten."

"No, thank you, Harry," Father Christmas said, shaking Harry's hand. Harry did as he had been told, and walked through the golden line. It felt like going through an elastic band that had suddenly decided to stop being solid.

"It was a pleasure," Snape said with a genuine smile, shaking Father Christmas' hand.

Harry looked around at the Yuletide Time Turner behind him, admiring the clear bubble all around it.

"Father Christmas, what's this bubble for?" Harry asked, tapping the glass.

"The golden hoops move, so it acts as a barrier so you stay out of the way," Father Christmas replied. "Oh, and Harry, call me Jeremy."

"Sorry, sir?" Harry said, confused.

"That man, standing next to you," said Father Christmas (Jeremy, Harry supposed) as he pointed to Snape, "Is Father Christmas now. I'm retiring, and he's taking my place."

"Professor Snape, really?" Harry cried, shocked to the core.

"Yes," Snape said, an uncharacteristic moment of terror evident on his face. "I think I must be crazy for saying yes, but the old codger convinced me."

They looked at each other in shock, and then Snape cracked a smile. Father Christmas' eyes twinkled.

"Do you still need a helper?" Harry said hopefully.

"You know, Potter, I think I might," Snape said. "You're not half as bad as I thought you were, but do try not to let anyone else know that."

"Ah, here comes the sun," Father Christmas said as the sun finally emerged over the horizon, and flooded the room with light. "Have a good year, you two. Send me any questions you have, Severus. You know where to find me."

Then, with the sound of Christmas bells ringing, Harry watched as the golden hoops began to move. The sun went back down again, and Father Christmas vanished, and the stars reappeared and disappeared behind clouds. Then, all at once, everything went black and the air around the two of them rushed and whirled.

Harry felt his feet land firmly on stone.

He opened his eyes, and sure enough, he was in the entrance hall.

"Sir, my watch says 9:45 again," Harry said, surprised.

"Time Turners, Potter," said Snape. "Fascinating things."

Harry glanced up at him, surprised by the slightly nervous look Snape had on his face all of a sudden. 

***

Severus glanced around. Nobody was coming.

"Potter," he said, "Before you go back to your common room, I just thought I'd mention that I found something you might like, when I went back to get Rain."

"Sir?"

Severus dug around in his pocket. He felt he rather owed Potter, now that he knew what his home life was like. He had been completely wrong, and as soon as Severus could think of a suitable cover story, Dumbledore would hear about it. He found what he was looking for, and pulled it out.

"Sorry it isn't framed," he said, "but it is out of an album. Your mother grew up in Cokeworth too, and we were friends growing up. I thought you would like a picture of her."

Potter looked shocked to the core, but took the picture, drinking in her image. To Severus' amazement, tears filled Potter's eyes.

"I … you two were friends?" he said faintly, wiping his eyes.

"We were," Severus said heavily. "Same year and everything. She was in Gryffindor, though, and I was in Slytherin."

"I've never seen a picture of her," Potter said sadly. "Thank you."

"No problem," replied Severus.

"But I didn't get you anything for Christmas," Potter said suddenly, sounding like this thought bothered him immensely.

"I hardly think that matters," Severus said, surprised. "But you know what would make my Christmas?"

"What?" Potter asked.

"If you could hurry back to Gryffindor tower so I don't have to take points for you being out after curfew," Severus said. "Minerva will simply kill me if I take any points from her house tonight, of all nights. I would rather keep being murdered off my holiday to do list."

"Well, only if it's to save your skin sir," Potter said jokingly.

"Watch it," warned Severus lightly.

"Merry Christmas, sir," Potter said with a grin before heading off in the direction of Gryffindor tower, pulling his book out of his pocket and putting it under his arm.

"You too, Mr. Potter," Severus said, nodding and turning round.

He hated to admit it, but the kid was growing on him.

***

Harry entered the common room to find Ron and Percy just starting their game.

"What took you so long, mate?" Ron asked, not taking his eyes off the board. "Twenty minutes to get to the Great Hall and back - what, did you have to look under the tables?"

"Twenty minutes, really?" Harry said with a laugh, handing Ron the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to borrow. "Ran into Snape on the way."

"That git," Ron said as the other Weasleys grimaced with sympathy. "He didn't take points, did he?"

"No, he didn't," Harry said, grinning. "And you know, Ron, you might want to watch who you call a git. Never know, Father Christmas might swap all your presents for frog intestines or something."

"Intestines?" Ron said incredulously. "Dunno who you think Father Christmas is, but I'm pretty sure it's coal he gives to bad kids."

"Oh, I don't know, anything's possible," Harry said, holding back a laugh.

"Sure mate. Oy, Percy, watch it! I will smash your pieces to bits after that move!"

Harry sunk back into the sofa, yawning and watching his friends playing chess with a great deal of fondness. They would never know, and he was happy to think that he knew something they wouldn't believe in their dizziest daydreams.

***

Severus debated going back to his quarters rather than go back to the staff party, but decided against it. His head was still swimming with what he had agreed to do, and he didn't think he could sleep anyway. He hoped that the noise and terrible music would bore him enough so it would take the edge off his lingering nerves.

He entered the staff room, and sure enough the Christmas music was still going, and the drinks were being passed around, and Christmas crackers being pulled.

"Just in time for another round of cards," Dumbledore called to Severus, looking silly with a bright pink bowler hat on his head. "Come and join us Severus!"

For once, Severus said yes, to the surprise of the other staff.

He went over and sunk down in the empty seat on the sofa, which was a part of the huddle of chairs and seats surrounding the small table. Minerva and Pomona occupied the other seats, and Flitwick came by and took his chair with the cushions again.

"Have a drink, Severus, go on," Flitwick squeaked, levitating punch and other drinks to those who had asked.

"Oh alright, you sod," Severus said. "You only bother me every year like this."

"Shirley Temple, right?" Flitwick said jokingly.

"Funny," Severus said dryly, but Flitwick handed him a beer instead, which he accepted.

He tapped the top with his wand and the cap popped off, then took a swig.

"Watch where you're dealing!" Severus said as Dumbledore's enthusiastic card dealing skills landed part of his hand on the floor, forcing him to root around the carpet for it.

The round commenced, and to his surprise, it wasn't half bad. Of course, one drink later and Severus, who had been up for hours, was exhausted. He found himself nodding off, despite his best intentions.

The world fuzzed in and out of focus, something he couldn't keep unnoticed by the other staff members.

"Bless him," said Minerva to the others with a laugh, "one drink and out like a light. Worse than a student, he is."

"I've been up all day and all night, what do you expect!"

"All night, I hardly think so," Pomona said, laughing. "It's not even close to late!"

"Yeah, sure," Severus said, rubbing his eyes and wishing he could enlighten them. "It's got to be one already."

"No, eleven."

"Go to bed, Severus," Sinistra said through laughter. "While you still have some reputation intact."

"As if I would listen to you, Sinistra, you starry-eyed -"

"Go to bed!" the rest of the table chorused at odd intervals, so Severus got up.

"Well, if you insist," he said, stretching before starting for the door. "Besides, if I had to spend another minute with all of you I would have gone batty."

"That's not very nice!" Pomona said, pretending to be shocked and affronted.

Severus turned round, staring at them all in a very serious manner.

"Really, well who do I look like, Father Christmas?" he said, unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face, all intentions of seriousness forgotten.

"Obviously not!" a few of them called through laughter, tossing pretzels at him as he made a hasty retreat.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," he said tiredly, the remnants of a smile still on his face as he opened the door.

Just as he walked out of the room, one last comment met his ears.

"My lord, did he just say Merry Christmas?"

"I HEARD THAT!" he yelled, just to spite them.

But he smirked anyway.

The End.


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