A Little Christmas Magic

Chapter 5 ~ A Party

Mrs. Claus returned a minute or two later and directed Snape and Hermione to separate bathrooms. Snape was sent to the one in the matron’s bedroom. It featured a real flushable toilet, tub, shower and hot water. Of course it was smothered in Christmas decorations.

Hermione was sent to the workshop bathroom. It had a toilet, a large sink with a stopper, a bucket and an old-fashioned water pump. The sink and toilet had to be filled with the bucket to be utilized, and the water was freezing. A decrepit wreath and several forlorn candy canes were nailed to the drab gray walls. At least Mrs. Claus brought her clean towels. She heated the water with her wand.

Once they were presentable, they sat down to a veritable feast in the dining room in another part of the cabin. The House Elves continued to work away contentedly, not the least bit interested in food.

A small, perfectly roasted Thanksgiving turkey graced the table, along with yeast rolls, gravy, potatoes, green beans, savory stuffing, sausage rolls, and a delicious pecan pie for dessert. Mrs. Claus also provided a huge decanter of wine, and glasses. Hermione’s glass was quite a bit smaller than that of Mrs. Claus and Snape. A warm fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

Urged on by Mrs. Claus, Snape neatly carved the turkey.

”Serve yourself first, professor. I bet you’re a breast and leg man,” Mrs. Claus said, filling his glass with wine before setting the bottle near Hermione.

”Moderation,” she chided, ignoring her own brimming glass.

Hermione sighed and filled her small glass. Then they got down to the meal.

Everything was delicious, and the wine flowed freely between Mrs. Claus and Snape, the wizard becoming more animated than Hermione had ever seen him before. He was almost . . . charming. Hermione nearly fell out of her chair when he actually smiled and laughed at something Mrs. Claus said about mistaking him for the Reaper. He looked at Hermione who was quietly eating her food, and asked her, “Do I really look like the Grim Reaper, Hermione?”

Hermione looked at him. He was tall and pale, and there was an angularity to his facial features. But he didn’t look skeletal, especially with that huge, hooked honker.

”No. I’ve always thought you resembled a big, black bird of prey,” she replied as Mrs. Claus frowned.

Snape actually laughed. He was lit up like a Christmas tree, a pink cast added to his normally pale complexion.

“Are you saying my nose is a beak?” he asked her.

”No. Only that it’s beak-like,” she replied, smiling a little at his unaccustomed good nature. “I really think that the resemblance is because you always look down it at people. It’s rather raptor-like.”

Snape chuckled.

“The bird’s eye view, eh?” he replied, eating a few string beans, then taking a generous sip of wine. “Well, I needed sharp eyes to look after you lot. Be glad for it.”

Hermione nodded. She really was glad for it. Snape had protected her, Ron and Harry more than they knew in those terrible, dangerous years of Voldemort, and nearly lost his life for his diligence. He truly was a brave wizard.

“You know, professor, it takes a mature eye to appreciate the attributes of a man such as yourself,” Mrs. Claus said. “Young girls always go for the superficial, rather than depth. You, professor Snape, have bearing and character. You radiate strength and just a hint of darkness. That is extremely attractive.”

“I’m not a ‘young girl,’” Hermione said defensively, putting down her fork and knife. “I’m twenty-seven years old. That’s far from a child.”

”Compared to me, young lady, you’re practically an infant,” Mrs. Claus replied, her blue eyes resting coolly on Hermione.

Buoyed a bit by the wine, Hermione blatantly asked her, “Exactly how old are you?”

Snape blinked. Inebriated as he was, he knew that this was not a question to ask a woman of any age. He sat back warily and didn’t say a word.

“That is none of your business,” Mrs. Claus snapped at her. “How rude!”
“I wasn’t trying to be rude, Mrs. Claus. I was simply trying to understand your statement about youth based on your own experience,” Hermione said. “Obviously, you made that statement based on your own age so I wanted a point of reference.”

Mrs. Claus’ eyes narrowed a bit. What the witch was asking was reasonable based on her reasons. But still . . .

“I have been around a very long time,” she said softly.

”If you’re an immortal, Mrs. Claus, it’s hardly fair to make such a statement based on age. You are ageless, after all,” Hermione concluded.

”I am not immortal,” Mrs. Claus stated as Snape relaxed. “I am just as mortal as anyone.”

”Living several centuries is not common in mortals, Mrs. Claus,” Hermione replied.

”No, but my longevity is connected to my husband Nicholas. He’s the immortal. I am simply in his influence. As long as I live in his domicile, I am ageless,” she said.

Hermione didn’t look convinced.

”So, why aren’t you . . . young? I mean, if your husband keeps you from aging, why are you . . . er . . . “

”Old?” Mrs. Claus asked her pointedly.

”Mature,” Hermione replied diplomatically.

Snape smirked and poured himself a bit of wine. This little spat between kitten and queen was quite interesting.

“Because over the years I’ve left the protection of my home and husband to do things on my own, travel the world, do good deeds, comfort the unfortunate. When I did this, I aged normally. Now . . .”

Mrs. Claus’ eyes turned sad.

”Now, I can no longer do that or . . .”

”Or you’ll die,” Hermione said in a whisper.

”Yes,” she agreed.

“Surely if you travel in the company of your husband, you will be protected,” Snape said, his dark eyes resting on her with what looked like sympathy.

”Yes, but . . . he’s too busy. He says I hold him up,” Mrs. Claus said. “So, I stay here with the elves and the animals, overseeing the work, and taking care of the home. It’s my place, you see. The Eternal Goodwife. There’s not much excitement . . . or . . .

“Or appreciation,” Hermione finished for her, her own brown eyes full of sympathy. Suddenly Mrs. Claus’ apparent rudeness was understandable. She was lonely, trapped in a life of quiet servitude, almost a prison. No matter how beautiful the gilded cage surrounding it, the bird within still sings a lonely, lonely song. Hermione wondered if Mrs. Claus had ever considered just leaving and letting her life take its natural course.

Suddenly, Snape slammed his glass down on the table, startling both women.

”Mrs. Claus, I have to admit I didn’t want to come here. For years I’ve been imposed upon to do various holiday related deeds for the school. But I want to let you know that this is by far the most pleasant imposition I’ve experienced in a long time. You are a fine hostess, a fine cook and a fine figure of a woman. You are greatly appreciated by this wizard,” he said, reaching over, taking her hand and kissing it.

Mrs. Claus looked as if she were going to faint away, and Hermione smiled at both her and the Potions master. She had never seen Snape be so gentlemanly or understanding with anyone and it was a surprising and very attractive side of him. Maybe something about the North Pole touched a part of him. Maybe all the lights and good cheer cut through his darkness.

Or maybe drinking just brought out the best in him. If that was the case, he should stay ripped all the time.

”Do you have music, Mrs. Claus?” Snape asked her. “I feel like dancing.”

*****************************

Mrs. Claus had an old hand-cranked phonograph, which Hermione charmed to play without cranking. She also had a large assortment of music from the twentieth century.

“I stopped collecting in the ‘70’s,” she admitted. “The music went all downhill from there.”

Her main collection consisted of Ragtime, Big Band Music, early Rock and Roll and of course, the Blues.

Hermione sat on the bright green and red trimmed sofa and watched as Mrs. Claus selected a record.

“I hope you like swing, professor Snape,” she said as she placed the record on the turntable. It was a 78 in perfect condition.
“This is Benny Goodman’s Sing, Sing, Sing,” she said as Snape crossed the room and took her hands. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62ZSQUyU00s)

”I can swing with the best of them, Mrs. Claus, I assure you,” he purred. Mrs. Claus blushed furiously as the heavy, cool drumbeats of the popular swing tune filled the room. Hermione’s eyes went wide as Snape began to bob in rhythm with Mrs. Claus, then they both began a rather wild kicking, jumping and perfectly in step dance around the room, Snape’s robes billowing as they moved.

”Wow!” Hermione said out loud, then burst out laughing. Oh, she had to make a Pensieve of this when she got back to Hogwarts or no one would believe her. Snape tripping the light fantastic with Mother Christmas. This had to be one for the history books.

If Hermione thought she was going to just be an observer, she was wrong as Snape danced Mrs. Claus over to the couch and grabbed Hermione’s hand, jerking her up and rolling her against his body.

”Full participation, Spells Mistress,” he purred. “I’ve always wanted two women at once.”

Hermione blushed, and Snape grinned at her, then let her roll out the length of his arm, still dancing with Mrs. Claus. The trio jived, shucked and swung about the room, breathless, laughing, smiling and knocking over a few things in the process. When the song was over, a smiling Mrs. Claus put on Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVG80vqVfSA)” and retrieved the wine and the bottle of bourbon. She provided three equally sized wine glasses AND bourbon glasses.

”I suppose times have changed,” she said to Hermione as she offered her the bourbon.

Hermione took it gratefully and replied, “Yes, they have, Mrs. Claus, but you are timeless.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Mrs. Claus replied softly, lifting her glass in a toast to both Hermione and Snape.

”Thank you both.”

*************************************

Snape, Hermione and Mrs. Claus had an enjoyable evening, partying until midnight. Snape was practically unrecognizable from his usual dour self.

”You should party more often,” Hermione said to him as they danced a waltz, Mrs. Claus looking on with a smile. She’d be next.

”I would, if there were anything in my life that warranted such behavior,” Snape replied, whirling her deftly.

”I can’t believe how nice your smile is,” Hermione observed.

”It is an ordinary smile . . . just rare,” the Potions master responded as the music wound down. He released Hermione and gave her a bow. He offered his hand to Mrs. Claus, who rose quickly, almost pushing Hermione out of the way, good-naturedly of course.

Hermione put on “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57tK6aQS_H0)” by the Platters and sat down on the sofa, watching Snape dance with Mrs. Claus. The woman looked so happy.

”You dance divinely, Mrs. Claus,” Snape said flirtatiously as she rested her head against his chest. She tittered.

“But, I’m afraid this is the last dance for me,” he added. “I’m completely knackered.”

Mrs. Claus’ face fell.

”But there’s always tomorrow evening. In the morning I will help you with your chores,” Snape promised.

”You’re such a good man,” Mrs. Claus sighed.

”That is something I rarely hear with such conviction, Mrs. Claus. Thank you,” Snape replied.

Hermione yawned on the couch. She was a bit knackered, too.

Mrs. Claus was inebriated herself, very inebriated. And inebriated individuals usually don’t make the wisest decisions.

“Hermione, take over for me. I have to go check on something,” Mrs. Claus said.

Hermione slowly rose from the couch and replaced Mrs. Claus. Snape pulled her rather tight against him, his dark eyes a bit hooded.

Mrs. Claus left them alone.

”It’s been quite the night, hasn’t it, Hermione?” he asked her.

”Yes, it has.”

”I imagine you found it rather startling that I am a true human being, and not just a big bird of prey,” Snape said softly, turning with her. They were body to body, the soft sensual music playing in the background.

”I know you’re human. I just didn’t know you were . . . so human,” she replied.

Snape laughed low, and she could feel it rumble like a growl in his chest.

They stopped dancing and Snape looked down at her.

”I’m very human,” he breathed, capturing her mouth.

Outside, snow began to fall.

**************************************

Mrs. Claus closed the door to her bedroom. She walked over to her dresser and opened a drawer, rifling through it until she came up with a small thimble. She closed the drawer, then crossed the room and pressed on a portrait of Nicholas hung on the wall. It slid aside, revealing a hidden room. It was empty of ornaments and contained one object, a very heavy large safe. The walls off the room were made of stone and were iced over so they looked as if made of black glass. She walked up to the safe and carefully turned the heavy combination right, left, right, right, left and right, then pulled on the handle.

The door slowly opened, then she stepped back as thick black smoke rolled out accompanied by high pitched evil laughter. A scaly black imp appeared, red-eyed and glistening, brandishing a very sharp black pitchfork with small skulls as the handle. It was very much in need of a pedicure.

”I know a seeeecret,” it cackled, looking up at Mrs. Claus with a leer.

“And you’ll keep that secret, Gigileepop, or by Odin, I’ll find a way to send you back to the Pit,” she hissed at him.

Gigleepop sniffed delicately at her.

”I think I smell a bit of drinky winky on those lips,” the imp said, arching a scaly eyebrow. “Nicholas’ private stock. When did you start tee-totaling? I thought you were a wino.”

“Mind your business and get out of the way,” Mrs. Claus said, reaching into the safe and drawing out a small pot.

”Using the Stuff for this. Tut tut. The wife of Father Christmas. It’s scandalous,” Gigileepop stated, leering again.

“The way Nicholas treats me is scandalous. I deserve a little something,” Mrs. Claus said, carefully scooping the thimble into the pot and collecting a minute amount of sparkling powder.

Gigileepop seemed to peer into space, then smiled lasciviously. “If you get what you want, I promise you, it’s far from little,” the imp chuckled.

”Back in the safe with you!”

Giglieepop turned back into smoke and rolled back into the safe. Mrs. Claus slammed the door and spun the combination lock a few times for good measure.

She hated dealing with that imp.

She exited the room, closing the wall behind her and studied the thimble.

”Now, I just have to get professor Snape to drink this down, then be the first woman he sees afterwards,” she breathed.

She headed for the kitchen.

In the hidden room, muffled music began to play inside the safe, accompanied by Gigileepop’s high-pitched laughter. The band was Creedence Clearwater Revival, and the song: Bad Moon Rising (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BmEGm-mraE)

The snowfall outside became heavier.

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A/N: This was a fun chapter to write. I have a completely OOC Snape here, but I think he’s possible if the setting is right. Not that he’d be this way all the time, but he might let his greasy black hair down under the right conditions. I included links to the songs. I was listening to them as I wrote and thought you might like to hear them as well. Fanfiction . net readers, you’ll have to go to theburningpen . com to get the links since ff doesn’t allow links in the text. I also love a dancing Snape, and had visions of Brendan Fraser swing dancing with two women in “A Blast to the Past” while writing this. Lol. Here’s the scene (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyjF3CeNpeQ) I’m going to have to wait to explain the exact nature of the sparkling powder Mrs. Claus removed from the imp-protected safe. Don’t ask me about the imp’s name. It came out of nowhere. And the kiss? Don’t know where that came from either, which, I expect, our two characters are wondering as well. A little Christmas magic, perhaps? Glad to have written another chapter and glad you took time to read it. Thank you. :) ****