Harry couldn’t have said when it happened, not even when he thought really hard about it, but someone MUST have been in his cupboard on Christmas Eve, or maybe real early on Christmas morning before the Dursleys woke up, before his cousin Dudley came pounding down the stairs directly over Harry’s head. For Harry spotted the aperture the moment he put his glasses on, the aperture with the softly glowing strip of light running vertically up the back wall of his cupboard.

Curious, he sat up on the lumpy old mattress and crawled over to examine the aperture at close range. It had never been there before – he was sure of that – not in all the years he’d spent living in the cupboard. This was his seventh Christmas in the cupboard, and nobody had ever paid him a Christmas visit before. And yet –

This soft glow looked like Christmas. It looked more like Christmas than the Dursleys’ garish tree in the lounge. It looked way more like Christmas than the ludicrous piles of presents for Dudley stuffed into every corner of the lounge. This soft glow looked almost magical. Except, there was No Such Thing as magic. Uncle Vernon always said so, and that was that!

Harry pressed the rims of his round spectacles to the glowing aperture, and his emerald eyes widened in wonderment at what he spied through that narrow, glowing crack.

There was a Room beyond the crack…

A Wonderful Room!

Slowly, Harry pushed open the short door that used to be the back wall of the cupboard – well, part of it, anyway – and crawled through into the Room. The ceiling in the Room was tall enough for him to stand up, unlike the cramped quarters in his low cupboard. And the Room spread out widely, with four lovely walls covered with glittering blue-and-white wallpaper, and furniture that looked so comfy to sit on that Harry just had to try out each chair and the sofa, too! The soft, cream-colored upholstery felt like sinking into marshmallows, and Harry gently bounced, enjoying the sensation, since he’d never been allowed to even sit on the Dursleys’ furniture. He spotted a beautiful ripple afghan crocheted in shades of greens and blues draped over the end of the sofa and couldn’t resist flinging it around his shoulders, so soft and warm.

Then he caught sight of a round wooden table with a chair just his size, and he pushed himself off the sofa to investigate the various plates and bowls sitting in wait. A Christmas feast, it was! And just for him, too, for a small parchment scroll was propped against a pitcher of some thick, deep-orange liquid, and the scroll had his own name on it…

HARRY POTTER, it read, followed by this message:

Welcome to your secret hideaway home. This room is a magic room just for you. It is not for your relatives, or for any of your friends. This room is your secret haven, for when you need to get away from things. Nobody else can see the entrance door in the back of your cupboard when it is closed, and as long as you close the door behind you when you come in here, nobody will be able to follow you. This room will keep you safe and warm, and there will always be food and beverages when you need them. See the kitchen? Open all of the cabinet doors and see what is there. When you use anything, it will always be magically replaced. But you must not abuse the food by overeating. You do not want to look like your cousin, Dudley, do you? There is also a bathroom, where you can clean up and use the loo whenever you need to, without waiting for the Dursleys to let you out of the cupboard.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS, HARRY

The note ended there, and Harry read it over several more times, almost afraid to believe his eyes. This couldn’t be real! But he’d bounced on the sofa… And the food – he cautiously reached out to pick up a cinnamon roll. It looked real. It felt real, with wonderfully-sticky creamy frosting on top. It smelled real, the warmth of cinnamon teasing his nostrils. And it tasted … oh, SO real! The cinnamon bun was a little piece of heaven! And the strawberries! And grapes! And soda bread with real raisins and caraway seeds! And small bowls of soft butter and honey!

As for that liquid in the pitcher, Harry had never seen anything like it, but he poured a glass of it and tasted … well, he wasn’t really sure what it was, but he loved it anyway. The liquid reminded him of the time when Dudley dropped part of a pumpkin tart on the kitchen floor, and Harry had snitched a couple of quick bites of the remnant while he was busy cleaning up the mess.

After finishing off the sticky bun and draining the glass of thick juice, Harry darted over to the kitchen, where he found a loaf of whole wheat bread, slices of turkey, ham, and two kinds of cheese, plus condiments. Also, an assortment of fresh fruits, and some garden vegetables which could be enjoyed raw – small cucumbers and grape tomatoes, green beans with the fuzz still on their skin, broccoli and carrots, green and red bell peppers, and baby corn. One cupboard was stocked with tins of ready-to-eat soups and stew, and a note telling him he could open a tin and pour the contents into one of the red bowls, and it would heat instantly.

Wow! He could come in here any time the Dursleys refused to feed him and make himself a nice, healthy meal! He noticed that most of the cabinets were quite cool, which meant the fresh food would not spoil, and to his delight, a final cupboard revealed a pitcher of milk and another of that orangey juice. An unchilled cabinet also held a variety of dry cereals, soda crackers, a jar of peanut butter, plus blackberry and strawberry jam, and orange marmalade. He also found red bowls that would heat, and blue bowls that probably wouldn’t, plates, and glasses, while a divided drawer held cutlery and a manual tin opener. A note next to the dinnerware instructed him to put his dirty dishes into the one cupboard that was currently empty, and they would automatically be cleaned.

Smiling happily, Harry ran to open the door next to the kitchen to check out the bathroom. Fluffy green and white towels and washcloths hung from racks, and both the sink and bathtub sported soap dishes with fragrant soaps that smelled faintly like Aunt Petunia’s lilies in the back garden, which Harry cared for during the summers. Another note awaited him on the sink counter. HARRY, Just put your dirty clothes in the empty drawer before you take a bath, and they will be clean when you are ready to get dressed. Yes, this is a magic drawer. It will also clean your used towels and washcloths.

Harry practically crowed! He’d be able to wear clean clothes all the time, even if they were too large and worn badly in places. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wouldn’t be able to catch him laundering his dirty clothes in their washer any more, which had always earned him punishment when he’d done it without their express permission. Sometimes, Harry would have chosen washing his clothes over eating, if forced to make the choice, because he hated looking like a dirty ragamuffin after doing all of the Dursleys’ dirty chores. Now he could clean himself and his clothes whenever he wanted to!

What a wonderful Christmas! What a marvelous Room! Who could have managed such an incredible Christmas surprise besides Father Christmas? It truly was magic, regardless of what Uncle Vernon said. And Harry couldn’t have been as bad a boy as Aunt Petunia claimed, not if Father Christmas gave him such a lovely safe haven as this!

Harry might have been only seven years old, but he was an exceptionally bright child, even if his school marks didn’t show it, and now that he had proof of magic, he’d never refuse to believe in it from now on!

A sudden pounding noise startled him from his reverie. It sounded like muffled thumps, and he realized he was hearing Dudley pounding down the steps to start his own Christmas. Looking in the mirror, Harry quickly wiped a smear of frosting from the corner of his mouth, washed his hands, and dashed back to the open door leading into his cupboard. It wouldn’t do for the Dursleys to discover the open door! He crawled into the cupboard and closed the door to the Room in the nick of time. Aunt Petunia was sliding the bolt back, unlocking the cupboard door into the hallway. Harry put on his most innocent face as he exited his cupboard to make Christmas breakfast for his relatives.

-:- -:- -:-

“You call that concentration, do you?”

Harry glared at the Potions Master. “I WAS concentrating until you … saw that.”

“What exactly was that, Potter?” Severus Snape glared right back at his least favorite pupil. “You’re here to learn Occlumency, not indulge in childish fantasies.”

Harry struggled to his feet. Again. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that was my memory of the year – the first year – that Father Christmas paid me a visit. Up until then, only my cousin Dudley got to enjoy getting Christmas gifts. But that year, Father Christmas gave me a secret, magical room where I could … spend time on my own. Away from my relatives.”

“Too good to spend time with your family like a normal person, Potter?”

Clenching his fists, Harry sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” sneered Snape. “I believe I’m capable of comprehending a spoiled child’s need to distance himself from the family that dotes upon him.”

“The Dursleys never doted on me, Professor. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Harry clenched his jaw now. “They only ‘doted’ on their own son. My cousin, Dudley, was spoiled and indulged beyond belief. I was treated like scum on the soles of their shoes.”

Snape scoffed. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you, Potter. You – the Boy-Who-Lived – treated like scum? Not possible.”

“Well, it’s true, whether you believe it or not. And that memory was when a Christmas miracle occurred.”

“Oh, yes. Father Christmas, you said.” Snape scoffed and sank down into the large chair behind the desk in his office. “DO go on, Potter. Convince me that Father Christmas is real.”

Harry plopped into the uncomfortable straight-backed chair that Snape kept for his students during their detentions. Or, presumably, during Remedial Potions.

“I woke up on Christmas morning and found a Room had appeared behind the back wall of my cupboard.”

“Cupboard? YOU had a cupboard? Why?”

“It’s where I slept,” Harry snarled. “And where the Dursleys would shove me whenever they wanted me out of the way. I lived in that cupboard from the time I first went to stay with them until after I got my first Hogwarts letter. It was addressed to ‘The Cupboard Under the Stairs’, so they figured wizards must be watching the house. That’s when they moved me into Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“How many did he have?”

“Two – one for himself, and another for all of his toys.”

Snape seemed to consider that for a moment. “And how old were you when Father Christmas paid you a visit?”

“Seven. That was my seventh Christmas in the cupboard. But when I woke up, I could see light at the back of the cupboard, and when I pushed on the wall, it opened like a door, and there was the Room.”

“Christmas, you say.”

“Yeah. So?”

“In your memory, I didn’t notice any toys in that Room. What kind of Christmas gift is a Room without a single toy? Especially since your cousin was loaded with toys.”

Glowering, Harry dug his fingertips into his knees. The greasy git would never understand. “Father Christmas gave me what I needed, more than just toys. He gave me a safe place, food, a bathroom, a way to clean my clothes. He knew what I needed. He knew toys were not really necessary. His gifts were real in a way that toys could never be. Toys would be the fantasy, not the Room.”

Snape’s forefinger played with the corner of a piece of parchment. “You believe in Father Christmas, do you Potter?”

Harry scoffed lightly. “I certainly did that Christmas. He was watching out for me. And he came to take care of me. It’s what I’d always wanted, from someone. Anyone. But it was Father Christmas who did it.”

“You have no doubts?”

Shrugging, Harry had to admit, “Later on, after I learned I was a wizard, I decided it might have been Dumbledore who made the room appear.”

“Dumbledore?” Snape looked perturbed. “Why the Headmaster?”

“Well, the Room was obviously magical in nature, and once I realized what a full-powered wizard was capable of, it made sense, you know?”

“So you don’t believe in Father Christmas.”

Harry threw his hands in the air. “I did that Christmas. That’s the point. I didn’t have any reason not to. I figured Father Christmas did the magic then. Later on, I thought it might have been Dumbledore. He was the one who’d dumped me at the Dursleys’, after all. Who else would have thought it important to give me a safe haven in that situation?”

Who else, indeed, thought Snape, remembering…

-:- -:- -:-

He’d arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive expecting the worst. To see James Potter’s spawn cosseted and coddled, given every privilege. The upstairs bedrooms proved it. One child’s bedroom, and another stuffed with every manner of juvenile indulgence. OBVIOUSLY, Potter slept in a room so crammed with toys that you couldn’t even see his bed!

But as Severus Snape perused the house while the Dursleys were out, he realized that his initial assumptions were off the mark. Not by a little, but by a lot. The issue of photographs, for one. Surely, that couldn’t be Potter’s son prominently displayed on every wall and surface. The bloated visage bore no resemblance to either Potter or Lily. And if two boys were supposed to live here, where were the pictures of the second child?

He’d wandered the house some more, and to his shock, he finally heard small sniffles coming from behind the door beneath the stairs. Worried now, he waved his wand and ascertained that, yes, someone was locked in behind that sliding bolt, and yes, that unseen someone was, in fact, Harry Potter. Harry Potter, completely alone, locked into a small space beneath the stairs, while his family was out for who knew how long. What if the house were to catch fire? The child was only seven and didn’t even have a wand!

How dare they! Even if it was Potter’s brat…

He heard the sound of a car turning in and quickly Disillusioned himself. He’d keep out of sight while he investigated the matter.

It didn’t take long for Snape to discover that the Dursley adults pampered and spoiled their own child, while the second boy was less than an unpleasant afterthought in their minds. As for that second boy…

He had Lily’s wide green eyes, shining like priceless emeralds behind cheap spectacles. Eyes which looked warily at the world inside the Dursleys’ home, and regularly filled with resignation and even pain at the way those Muggles treated their nephew. The boy still had spirit, however; they hadn’t ground him down completely, though it was obvious how hard the Dursleys had tried. Snape saw the child’s quick flash of delight at the simplicity of an unexpected sunbeam on a thickly-overcast autumn day, or the first snow flurries falling outside the kitchen window as the boy washed dishes. The Dursleys were the first to decorate their house for the holidays, and the boy breathed deeply of the fragrance from the freshly-cut Christmas tree, before his materialistic relatives covered said tree with a garish display of electric lights and whirring ornaments that would rival Dumbledore’s silver instruments!

All the simple things that Lily herself would have cherished from life, so did her son. And thus, the Potter brat transformed himself into Lily’s son, and thus, Snape decided to make changes in the boy’s life.

When his initial report in early October had failed to budge the Headmaster’s stance on Harry’s needing to remain behind the blood wards at Privet Drive, Snape delved further into the situation. For a week, unbeknownst to those beastly Muggles, Snape spied upon their lives, both indoors and outdoors, and he determined that Harry Potter needed a safe haven more than anything else. Shelter, nutritious food, clean clothes and a place to bathe – the bloody Dursleys were supposed to give their nephew the basic necessities of life, and all the boy got was a cupboard, scraps, and outgrown too-large clothing that could only be cleaned if the child performed an outrageously-long list of chores in return for his keep. And Dumbledore refused to intervene!

Well, by Merlin’s good grace, Snape would intervene!

It took him seven weeks of serious research and practice before Snape was ready to bestow his gift upon the child. He’d time it for Christmas morning, and perhaps the black-mopped boy would assume it was the doing of Father Christmas. Hopefully, Harry would have the sense not to brag about the gift to his relatives, for if they discovered it, undoubtedly they would do their utmost to destroy it. And, failing that, they would certainly take out their wrath upon the child. Or, at least, they would attempt to – Snape intended to be on hand, just in case he needed to avert disaster…

But his plan went without a hitch. The Dursleys put Harry to work fixing supper, and while he was waiting on them, serving their Christmas Eve dinner, Snape quickly installed the Room behind the back wall of Harry’s cupboard. He’d practiced many times to be able to work the magic quickly and quietly; most of it had been done beforehand, with the furnished Room then shrunk and carried in his pocket to be installed while everyone else was distracted.

A few waves and prods with his wand, and the wall accepted the magical panel containing the Room, then suddenly, the wall opened like a door, and the Room came into glorious being. Wouldn’t Harry be surprised when he awoke on Christmas morning to his very own surprise?

And so he had, as far as Snape could tell. Harry kept casting glances over his shoulder in the direction of his cupboard while he was fixing breakfast for the Dursleys, but he breathed nary a word about his discovery that morning, nor ever. Harry’s safe haven was his secret, and the boy certainly knew how to keep a secret!

The Room was designed to have self-perpetuating magic. The food selections would remain the same, regardless of whether the boy became bored with them. Dirty towels, washcloths, and clothing would be dealt with in the magical cleaning drawer. The soap would replenish itself as needed, and Harry would always have comfortable furniture to relax on, instead of being forever cramped in that dreadful cupboard. Anything he chose to bring into the Room would remain there, unless he chose to take it away, so he could use it to store personal belongings without fear of them being stolen or broken by his bullying cousin. And, of course, if he was still living in that cupboard when he got introduced to the magical world, he could store his magic-related items, like wand, textbooks, and so forth, where Petunia and Vernon could not get their hands on them.

More than anything, Snape wanted Harry out of that cupboard, but for the time being, the Room would fulfill his basic needs, so the wizard could content himself in the knowledge that he’d done right by Lily’s green-eyed child.

-:- -:- -:-

Lightly, undetectably, Snape reentered the boy’s mind, and he realized he was seeing Harry’s first night in the magical Room…

The child had spent a wonderfully comfortable Christmas night, locked behind the cupboard door, beyond the closed door of the Room, where he could barely hear Dudley whining about all of the toys he’d already broken since that morning. Harry fixed himself a ham and cheese sandwich, crunched some cucumber slices and several florets of broccoli, and delighted in the tiny ripe tomatoes. He’d found that the cinnamon buns and soda bread had not yet gone stale, so he decided to store them in the same stasis cabinet as the whole wheat bread, hoping that whatever preserved the bread would keep them fresh as well.

After neatly tucking away his leftovers, Harry indulged in a deep hot bath with lots of soap and shampoo, feeling squeaky clean for the first time that he could ever remember. After combing out his hair and brushing his teeth with his very own toothpaste instead of a used-up tube that had once been Dudley’s, Harry checked the magic drawer, and his clothes were clean as promised! He quickly chucked the wet green washcloth and towel into the same drawer, deciding they’d be clean the next time he had to bathe.

Dressing himself in his clean clothes, Harry happily went out to curl up on the marshmallow-soft sofa, snuggling deeply beneath the green-and-blue afghan. This was a Christmas miracle, this glorious feeling of being fed, clean, and comfortably warm. “Thank you Father Christmas!” was Harry’s last murmur before drifting off to sleep…

After ascertaining that Harry would be safe, well-fed, and clean, Snape had departed Privet Drive that Christmas night, determined to keep an eye on the situation at the Dursleys’, even if the Headmaster did not feel it necessary.

Several years passed, and Harry continued to use the Room as his refuge, with Snape only needing to intervene once, when the Dursleys’ moved the eleven-year-old boy, without warning, to the smallest bedroom in the house. At first, the wizard had simply planned to move the existing Room to Harry’s new location, but then he had second thoughts. Not knowing if the horrid Muggles might move Harry back into the cupboard for some reason in the future – as punishment, for example – even if he were allowed to sleep in a real room, Snape decided to create a second Room for Harry, this one accessible from the bedroom that used to be overstuffed with his cousin’s innumerable toys.

This new Room opened from the wall over the garage, a narrow space between the end of Harry’s ramshackle bed and the wall next to the upstairs hallway. Whereas the original Room had focused on a child’s sheer indulgent comfort, the new incarnation looked more toward practicality. Knowing that Harry would be off at school for the better part of the year, Snape had designed the room to serve a teenage boy’s needs over his summer holidays, since he was well aware that Potter would be unlikely to travel to Surrey over Christmas.

Since Potter received his Hogwarts letter not long before departing Privet Drive for his First Year at school, Snape did not actually install the new Room until shortly before the end of the school year. He magicked a scroll to appear on the boy’s bed in the smallest bedroom the first night of his summer holidays. The scroll read: HARRY POTTER, There is a secret Room now hiding behind the wall over the garage to the right of your bed. Use it as well as you did the one in your cupboard.

Disillusioned, hovering outside Potter’s window, courtesy of a Self-Hovering Charm, Snape had watched the boy eagerly rush to the designated wall to push gently, revealing the new Room. Potter’s pleased “Excellent!” drifted across the empty bedroom and out the open window, and nobody saw the Potions Master smile through his Disillusionment.

-:- -:- -:-

“You stated that was the first time Father Christmas paid you a visit,” said Snape, returning to the matter at hand. “Giving you a Room in your cupboard. Did he pay you other visits after that?”

“Only one,” replied Harry, smiling slightly, “and it was quite a surprise, since it happened at the beginning of summer after my First Year at Hogwarts.”

“Summer!” snorted Snape. “You must be joking.”

“No, seriously,” affirmed Harry. “It was just like before, except this time he gave me a new Room opening from my bedroom that used to be Dudley’s second bedroom.” He chuckled quietly, remembering…

-:- -:- -:-

The ride to London on the Hogwarts Express was the best and worst time of Harry’s year. Best, because now he had two best friends to share the ride with, and worst, because he was going back to the Dursleys’ house, with all of the depressing memories coming back to haunt him. He doubted that a year at a magic school would endear him to his relatives, especially given the way they’d reacted when Hagrid had come to fetch him from the Hut on the Rock.

Sure enough, the moment the car turned into the drive at Number 4, Uncle Vernon had handed Harry a list of chores as long as the man’s arm, demanding that he get started straight away. Harry had shoved his school trunk under the stairs, testing the back wall to see if the Room was still there, which it was, thank goodness! He’d try to get into the Room later that night to get cleaned up and get a decent meal, since Aunt Petunia had made it clear that he’d only get fed if after he’d finished his chores.

Since he did not finish the outdoor work until nearly midnight, however, she’d sent him straight up to his bedroom, unfed, since they did not want his noise cleaning the rest of the house to keep them up all night.

Sitting despondently on his raggedy blanket, trying to squelch the grumblings from his empty stomach, Harry jumped a foot when a neatly-beribboned scroll popped into the middle of his bed. Why, it looked just like the scrolls from that long-ago Christmas, when Father Christmas had given him the wonderful Room behind his cupboard! Certainly, the scroll was magical, for Harry could easily recognize magic nowadays, and oh, hadn’t Uncle Vernon been so wrong all those years ago, always saying there was No Such Thing as magic!

Harry pulled off the ribbon and unfurled the length of parchment. His jaw dropped in amazement, then he rushed to the designated wall and pushed against it, hoping against hope that this was not a prank, not that Fred and George even knew where he lived…

But there was a Room, oh YES! And this seemed even better than the original Room!

The main room was done up in green and black, of all things, but no less comfortable for all that. A black leather lounge chair with matching ottoman sat at an angle to a sturdy daybed sporting a quilt in multiple shades of green, plus black and white. A handsome brass reading lamp stood on a tall stand overlooking the lounge chair, while a matching lamp sat atop a broad oak desk that would be perfect for doing his summer homework, if he could just get into his locked school trunk. Various reference books lined shelves above the desk, and rolls and sheets of blank parchment waited within the drawers, along with several new quills, bottles of ink, and even several Muggle writing implements.

A separate oak table and chair served as a small dining area, complete with homespun woven placemat and napkins. The kitchen contained many of the same types of foods as the kitchen in the original Room, but this new kitchen also had a burner for cooking, plus several pots and pans, and a set of mixing bowls for combining provided foods. Harry could easily imagine himself cooking the wider variety of vegetables – including potatoes, onions, and beets – instead of just eating them raw, although no fresh meats were provided. The usual ham and turkey slices remained available, plus well-done roast beef slices, so he’d be able to make sandwiches at will. Also, he discovered fresh eggs and a larger selection of dairy, including yogurt, cottage cheese, Swiss and sharp cheddar slices, butter, and milk, and now there were lettuces and other salad ingredients, as well as olive oil and vinegar, with herbs and seasonings for dressings and flavoring cooked foods. Excellent! Interestingly, the dessert cabinet included his favorite, treacle tart, plus a variety of cake and pie slices, although Harry discovered that, apparently, he could not withdraw more than one dessert selection per meal. While it wasn’t a big deal to Harry, he could only imagine Ron’s reaction if he were limited to no more than one dessert!

The bathroom proved identical to the original, with the exception that the towels came in green and black, and Harry plunged into the deep tub for a steaming-hot bath to rid himself of the garden grime. He redressed himself in his now-clean clothes before going back to the kitchen to make a large sandwich and a sizeable salad for his midnight meal. Harry gulped down a glass of milk, but he passed over what he now recognized as pumpkin juice for regular orange juice, and never had it tasted so good!

-:- -:- -:-

Snape had not shouted Legilimens, nor even pointed his wand at Potter, but his mental powers allowed him to enter the boy’s mind and see his memory of discovering the second Room. Though he found Potter’s delight gratifying, something compelled him to ask, “So, do you truly believe it was Father Christmas who provided this new Room for you, Potter?”

Harry frowned. “Well… I have to admit, at first I did think it must be Father Christmas, but who’s ever heard of him paying a visit in the summer? That was what caused me to think that it might be Dumbledore. After all, I’d asked him if I could stay at school during the summer, and he’d said no. He didn’t ask me why I wanted to stay, but I think he must have known something was wrong in Surrey, so he gave me a new Room, so it wouldn’t look suspicious if I kept constantly sneaking into my old Cupboard to access the Room behind the wall.” He nodded at his assessment. “Yeah, that’s when I started thinking that it must have been Dumbledore all along, playing Father Christmas, even with the first Room.”

“And did you ever consider that it might not be Dumbledore?”

Shrugging, Harry sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have any clue, Professor. If not Dumbledore, then who?” He laughed. “Maybe it really was Father Christmas.”

“Hmphh.” Snape stared at the boy. Little idiot wasn’t observant in the slightest. “What color were the towels, Potter?”

“Towels?”

“In both of those Rooms.”

“Er … green and white, and green and black.”

“And what colors would Dumbledore have used?”

“Um… Red, maybe? And gold?”

Snape was ready to smirk triumphantly, when Harry added, “Just like Father Christmas! Red and gold are Christmas colors, after all. But maybe he wanted to remain anonymous, so he did the green thing to throw me off.”

“Get out, Potter!”

“What?” Harry gaped at the Potions Master in astonished puzzlement. “But weren’t we supposed – “

“Remedial Potions is over for the day. Get OUT.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Harry quickly walked to the corridor door and exited Snape’s office, throwing one last look over his shoulder at the disgruntled man before closing the oak door with a quiet thump. What had gotten Snape’s wand in a knot? More than usual, rather. Something was seriously off kilter… What color were the towels? Green and – whoa… Father CHRISTMAS?

“NO WAY.” Harry shook his head firmly. But he had to ask.

Quietly, he opened the dungeon door just a crack. Just enough to see Severus Snape pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of his massive desk.

“… ungrateful little whelp… Dumbledore indeed… GREEN! Not bloody red and gold!”

Harry’s eyebrows pushed his lightning-bolt scar up under his fringe. It couldn’t be! Surely not!

“Er … Professor?”