As Snape stalked the grounds of the school, he had a look of utter concentration marking his unpleasant face. He was fully focused on the task of gathering the Ilex aquifolium or holly before the weather became too inhospitable. He wasn’t interested in the festive red berries, in fact he wasn’t interested in festivities at all really. The holly leaves were what Snape was after.
When used properly in potions the holly could be used as an effective cure for winter coughs and colds. There would be no shortage of those this time of year, what with all the idiot children running about in the snow dressed like summer weather had arrived, and those that did dress properly were doomed to exposure to illnesses by their less intelligent classmates.
Snape had finally spotted what he had been searching for; beneath a large bear oak was a tiny green shrub. Snape dropped the hood of his winter cloak because he was no longer cold and hurried over to strip a fair amount of glossy holly leaves from the small bush.
He could hear the voices of children playing a little ways away from him as he clipped a few branches from the holly. He’d taken all he wanted from this little bush and then moved on to find another. In his mind it seemed that the voices of the children were growing nearer. He frowned a little and then decided to simply continue with his mission.
The voices were very near to him now. It almost seemed like he was being followed into the forest of oak trees. Snape growled to himself as he picked out three familiar voices followed by high pitched shrieks of happiness. From the sound of things Potter, Weasley and Granger were prowling about flinging snow at one another. Well, if they became ill it would serve them right.
Snape stooped to take a few more branches from a small holly bush and brushed the snow from the leaves before placing the branches into his satchel. Almost enough, he thought to himself. The woods had gone very still, perhaps Potter and his friends had turned back to go to the Great Hall for hot chocolate.
As Snape stood to walk away from the holly bush he heard a young voice shout. Confused, he whirled in the snow with his wand already drawn.
“Look Out!” A boy that sounded a lot like Weasley shouted in a high pitched squeal.
Snape turned toward the sound of the boy’s voice to find what all the commotion was about. Smack! Involuntarily Snape shuddered as a icy shiver ran through him. He had just been hit on the left side of his face by a snowball! He could feel the cold snow already beginning to melt against the heat of the skin of his face and his ear. It was dripping freezing water down his robe collar, back between his shoulder blades, and in the front down his collar bone. He could feel the liquid seeping into the hollow of his ear canal, and he shook his head to be rid of it.
Snape reached up and swiped what had not begun to melt away from him and onto the ground. The woods had gone quiet once more; there weren’t even any footprints from the guilty party. Potter? Snape narrowed his eyes as he glanced around. If Potter had been the one to attack him, then Potter was even more foolish than Snape had originally assumed.