A double potion period later, Harry and his friends emerged from the dungeons in the Entrance Hall where the sight of Professor Hooch waving her wand at the pillars to improve the Christmas decorations met them. The castle was overloaded with golden ribbons, spruce branches and silvery bells, not to speak of red-clad puppet gnomes in every corner and the odd reindeer as well. 

”It hasn’t quite sprung to life yet,” observed Hermione. ”They have conjured plenty of the animated decorations but not yet synchronised them properly. Oh, I do long for Christmas, probably because we missed out on it so blatantly last year - do you remember Harry?”

”Let’s not talk about it, Hermione.” Harry shuddered as he recalled their time in exile last winter, hiding from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.  

”Christmases at Hogwarts were always something special, if you remember. Not even Mother could equal it at the Burrow. And it’s not only because the castle is so grand. Mother’s usually able to compensate with magical skills what the Burrow lacks in material resources, but for Christmas she never managed it as beautifully as at school. The castle used to have a life of its own at Christmas, didn’t it? I guess it was Dumbledore’s doing and that we cannot expect it now that he’s gone,” said Ron. Hermione stopped dead, causing the others to pause their steps and look at her.

”What if that was the Enchantment that McGonagall wanted Snape to do?” she exclaimed.

”Don’t be ridiculous. Snape hates Christmas. Why would he want to do that?” replied Ron.  

”That’s exactly what Professor McGonagall was implying though, wasn’t it? From what we overheard, I’d say it fits perfectly. For some reason she believes that Snape is the only one able to enchant Christmas at Hogwarts,” retorted Hermione. Harry frowned.

”It doesn’t make sense. Professor McGonagall is the Transfiguration expert at Hogwarts - she should be the one to do such magic. Snape is a powerful wizard, I grant you that, but why on earth would he be the only one on the staff capable of performing such a spell?” said Harry. 

”I’m going to find out,” replied Hermione and turned resolutely on her heel. ”I’m going to the library, looking up Christmas Enchantments. I have an hour until dinner.”

”Oh, please, Hermione, leave it!” Ron burst out. He had little patience for Hermione practically living in the library, especially since they got together as a couple and he expected her to spend time with him. ”We’re not even staying this year. We’re all leaving for the Burrow tomorrow.”

”What about those who are staying? Don’t you wish for them to have a nice Christmas?” Hermione said indignantly.

”Always out to make me look bad,” muttered Ron. ”Always off to sacrifice herself for others.” Hermione suddenly looked repentant.

”No,” she said, ”I’m doing it because I want Christmas to be like before, when we were little. I want it to sing and breathe in that magical way it used to do. It’s our last year at Hogwarts - I want to be part of it once again, if only for a while.” 

”What sentimentality…” muttered Ron but his voice was a little thick. ”Oh, blast, I guess it wouldn’t kill me to wake up to that enchanted Christmas spirit tomorrow. If you can solve the mystery, that is.” 

Hermione nodded confidently and headed up the stairs. Harry looked mildly amused at his friend. 

”What?” scowled Ron. 

”Nothing,” Harry hastened to say.