It was with a fierce scowl that Severus pulled on the red pants and coat, both trimmed with white fur. Red! Why did it have to be red? Why couldn’t Father Christmas possibly wear clothes in decent dark colours? He cursed silently to himself, then decided that since no one could hear him anyway he might as well do it out loud.

“Merlin’s pants!” he muttered to himself.

If anyone saw him dressed like this he would never live it down. His reputation would be forever destroyed and he would have to withdraw to some isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Nevertheless, it was tradition at Hogwarts that every year the professors collaborate to provide presents for those students unlucky enough not to receive gifts from their family or friends. The tradition was old, far older than Snape, and as such there was nothing he could do to change it. Not that he was really opposed to the idea, no. He had suffered many enough horrible Christmases on his own not to wish that upon any child.

No, it was wearing the damnable Father Christmas costume that he was opposed to. But that was tradition too, of course, and though he had been able to avoid it the previous years, this year his colleagues had been insistent that it was his turn.

A quick look in the mirror revealed that he did indeed look just as ridiculous as he was feeling. The costume was a bit too big on him, and hung loosely on his scrawny body. A quick spell fixed that, though there was no hiding the fact that he was not a fat and merry old man.

The fake beard attached to his face with magic, and successfully hid most of his face. Once the red cap was on his head the only visible features were his eyes and his nose. He still was far from the jolly figure most imagined, but it would have to do. After all, the whole point of this tradition was to deliver gifts to a few students, not to be seen by said students.

With another scowl Severus grabbed the sack he had been provided with and left his quarters, heading towards the Slytherin common room. The sack was magically light in his hand but he knew it contained a surprising amount of gifts.

Walking through the corridors he felt vulnerable, as if he was a student out after hours. He didn’t like the feeling, and promised himself that if he were to catch anyone out of their bed they would lose a very large amount of house points, and perhaps earn a detention as well.

Luckily there were only a few students in Slytherin that would not be receiving gifts, most because their families simply didn’t celebrate the holiday. Severus quickly dumped the gifts in question below the Christmas tree, already eager to get this whole process over with.

“Who’s it this year?” a portrait wondered sleepily.

Severus did not reply and kept his face turned away as he left, knowing that the portrait in question might very well recognise him through the disguise.

The plants decorating the Hufflepuff common room were less likely to recognise him, or tell on him if they did for that matter, so Severus took a little more time to arrange the gifts there. All in all, he was in and out in less than five minutes.

Steeling himself he then left the familiar dungeons, heading towards Ravenclaw tower. Some of the portraits he passed tried to talk to him, though most slept peacefully in their frames. It didn’t appear to be any students out of bed, though he did see Mrs. Norris, just as she slunk around a corner.

Thankfully the knocker that guarded the entrance to Ravenclaw tower was aware of his purpose and let him in without problem. The few gifts intended for students of Ravenclaw were swiftly deposited beneath the tree, and Severus headed for his last stop for the night.

Gryffindor tower. The mere thought of it was enough to send chills down his spine, especially considering the boy sleeping in one of the dormitories. Harry Potter. Why the blasted boy had not gone home over the holidays Severus did not know, but for some reason the boy had decided to stay. Perhaps living in a magical castle was still new, or perhaps his muggle relatives were considered too unimportant for the Boy Who Lived to spend time with.

Well, they weren’t even halfway through the boy’s first year yet. There was still time for Severus to manage to force some humility into the boy.

Minerva had given him the password for the common room, so the Fat Lady let him in without any further questions.

“Merry Christmas dear,” she spoke as she slid aside to reveal the entrance.

Severus grunted wordlessly in reply.

The strong colours of the room stung his eyes, especially aided by the Christmas decorations as they were. Eager to get it all over with he headed straight for the tree, making his way through the sofas and armchairs. Quickly he turned the sack upside down, and the last few gifts fell out. Severus pushed them under the tree, and was just about to stand up again when …

“Santa?”

He froze, cursing silently. How had he not noticed that he was not alone? The voice was coming from somewhere behind him, not from one of the staircases to the dormitories, suggesting that the child in question had been sitting in one of the sofas or armchairs the whole time.

“Is it really you? Father Christmas?”

Merlin! Could this night get any worse? The last thing he needed was Harry Potter seeing him dressed out like this!

“Hello? Did you hear me? I’m sorry if I …”

“I heard you,” Severus interrupted, making his voice sound rougher than it usually did. “What are you doing out of bed this late at night?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to watch the tree, and I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch.”

“You should return to your dormitory.”

No reply came, though neither could Severus hear the boy walking away. He waited in silence for a moment, and then the boy’s voice spoke again. Arrogant boy, Severus thought to himself. Can’t even do as he’s told on a night like this!

“Is it really you, Santa? ‘Cause I had kind of started to doubt you were real …”

Severus very nearly snorted to himself. The Boy Who Lived still believed in Father Christmas! Foolish boy! And he was the one who was supposed to save them all from the Dark Lord, eventually …

“It’s really me,” Severus finally replied. “Now go back to bed!”

“Alright. It’s just … I wanted to know …”

“This is not the time for questions, boy!” Severus exclaimed, spinning around to glare at the boy. “Now go back to bed!”

Finally the boy backed away, though only a few steps, as he stared at Severus. No, Severus thought. Had he revealed himself? Did the boy recognise him? He would have to obliviate this memory from the boy. With the hand that was not holding the sack he reached for his wand, carefully hidden in his belt.

“I’m sorry!” the boy said. “I really am! It’s just … Why are you here?”

“Why do you think I am here?” Severus snarled, one hand gripping his wand. “Now do as you are told, or there will be no gifts for you this year!”

Judging from the light appearing in the green eyes, that was the wrong thing to say, Severus realised. Potter looked from Severus to the presents beneath the tree and then back to Severus, eyes very nearly shining. Lily’s eyes, a voice whispered in his mind.

“You mean you brought a gift for me this year?”

Hope was clearly evident in the boy’s voice, a fact that was very confusing to Severus. Didn’t Potter receive monstrous amounts of gifts from his relatives, friends and fans already? What did one gift more or less matter?

“Perhaps,” he answered, carefully keeping his confusion out of his face.

“Really?” Potter said, clearly taking it as a yes. “Because I’ve tried really, really hard to be good this year, but I didn’t think that … After all that’s happened …”

Was the boy about to cry? The prospect made Severus deeply uncomfortable.

“I’m sure there are some gifts there for you,” he hurried to say, gesturing towards the tree.

“Some?” the boy repeated, his eyes growing bigger. “You mean there’s more than one?”

Now, what did the boy mean by that? It didn’t make sense!

“What do you mean?” Severus asked.

“I mean … last year I got a pair of Dudley’s old socks and underwear. I wasn’t expecting … I mean I was hoping, of course, but I didn’t really expect … Is there really a gift for me under there?”

Old socks and underwear? What game was the boy playing? Was he actually trying to trick Father Christmas into giving him more presents?

“I do not appreciate it when people are trying to lie to me!” Severus warned.

“What? Of course not, I’m not lying! Why would I be lying?”

“Don’t act coy with me, boy! I know you received more than that!”

The boy had to have received more, or surely Dumbledore would have stepped in? There was no chance that the Boy Who Lived was being treated badly, in any way, by his family. Dumbledore would not allow it.

“What? I didn’t, I swear! There was just the socks and the underwear, and they weren’t even wrapped in real paper, aunt Petunia had just thrown them into a paper bag! I’m not lying, I promise!”

For a brief moment Severus closed his eyes, feeling his world shift around him. Could it be true? He had to find out.

“Legilimens!” he muttered quickly, diving into the boy’s head.

It was only a light legilimens, he didn’t dive very deep. Not that it was necessary. The moment he entered the boy’s mind he was assaulted by the memories of the gifts the boy had described and the Christmas in question. Just beneath that memory lay the memories of other Christmases, each one as miserable as the other ones.

There were other memories as well. Mostly they were of neglect and bullying. Severus skimmed through them lightly, not one to pass up on an opportunity like this, but found that it was really just all the same. He decided he had seen enough.

“Ow, my head!” the boy moaned as Severus retreated.

“I didn’t know they treated you like that.”

With surprise Severus realised that he had spoken out loud. It was true though. He had had no idea that the boy was treated this way and he wondered if Dumbledore knew. Somehow he would have to bring it up with the headmaster, sometime soon. Something had to be done about the boy’s situation.

“Treated me how?” the boy wondered. “I’m bad, so I don’t get any Christmas presents. That’s how it works, right?”

Suddenly he felt like a scum, seeing the boy look at him with such imploring eyes. There were resignation in them, an unwilling acceptance that such was the world, but also hope and something akin to a plea. Not long ago he would have loved to crush that hope, but now he almost felt obliged to do something about it.

Remembering that he was still dressed in the costume Severus composed himself. Nothing good would come from him revealing himself to the boy now.

“Had I known you were not getting any gifts, I would have made sure to get you some,” he said, trying to make his voice sound comforting. Never mind that the thought of getting Christmas gifts for James Potter’s spawn was abhorrent, not even this child deserved to be treated this way.

“But I was bad, wasn’t I?” the boy insisted. “That’s why I didn’t get any gifts!”

“It does not matter whether you have been bad or not, you have not deserved the kind of treatment your relatives have been giving you. And this year you will be getting gifts.”

The last part was added on a whim, but Severus thought it managed to make his argument more valid in the eyes of the boy.

“There really is a gift for me?”

“Of course,” Severus answered, confident that he was correct. “Look. Accio Harry Potter’s presents!”

A small pile of packages flew out from beneath the tree. Severus directed them towards the nearest table, where the boy could stare at them all he wanted. Though the pile was in no way huge, just four packages and an envelope, one would think it was a mountain of them from how the boy’s eyes seemed to glow with excitement.

“There, see? Gifts for you. Not to be opened until the morning, of course.”

Swiftly he levitated the gifts back beneath the tree. Potter … Harry looked like he wanted to crawl beneath the tree with them.

“Now, you better return to bed,” Severus told him.

“Alright.” With a longing look towards the small pile the boy finally headed towards the stairs.

“By the way,” the boy said, turning around as he reached the stairs, “you’re a lot thinner than in the pictures. And your nose is bigger too. Merry Christmas!”

“Ten points from ..!” Severus began, but the boy was already gone, running towards his dormitory with a huge smile on his face. “Never mind.”

Deep in thought he left the tower, contemplating what he had learned that night. He decided that he would speak to Dumbledore already the next day. Between the two of them there must be something they could do to make sure the boy would not have to return to those muggles come spring.

A little less jaded than an hour ago Severus removed the costume and went to bed, sleeping more peacefully than he had in quite a while.

And up in Gryffindor tower Harry Potter fell asleep with a smile on his face, looking forward to what would surely be the best Christmas ever.