Snape and the Christmas Tradition

The great hall of the Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry was noisier than usual. It was a fine morning in late December, and soon most of the students would be leaving the castle for the Yule holidays. Many, especially the youngest, were literally bouncing in, and even around, their seats. The students had just finished singing carols after breakfast, and there was just one thing left to do before they could leave for the train.

The preliminary annual 'Yule Selection' had just taken place. This was an old tradition, dating back in its current form almost two hundred years, and nearly seven centuries in its general outline. As the students awaited the fallout of the process, the noise swelled.

Most of this noise came from students who had not been chosen, especially those Seventh years who had avoided selection all seven years, making fun of those who had been. A fair amount also came from students teasing those who had been chosen in previous years, especially of those who had particularly embarrassed themselves.

Some of the noise came from those selected. These protests were also part of the process, especially when some members of the faculty were involved.

"Headmaster, I must protest! This is absurd!"

Dumbledore smiled benignly, and said, "Protest all you wish, Severus. Everyone at the school had an equal chance of being chosen, and you were chosen."

Snape considered his chances of at least hexing the twinkle out of Dumbledore's eyes. "But. . . !"

"Oh, Severus, suck it up," McGonagall hissed so that only other members of the staff could hear. "You won't look any more foolish than the rest of us. Now, get your scrawny arse in that line and think of something appropriate!"

"That's easy for you to say, you didn't get stuck doing this."

"Not this year, but I have before."

Snape's scowl didn't change.

"Come now," Flitwick squeaked happily. "I'm sure you have a fine singing voice. Nothing to be ashamed of. If I can squeak and squawk something out this year, you should be able to manage something."

"No."

"I was chosen, and I'm just visiting today," Moody growled. "If I can do it, you can."

"I do not choose to humiliate myself . . . OW!"

Snape was shocked. McGonagall had dared, actually DARED, to grab and twist his ear while standing up. Given the choice between standing or perhaps losing his ear, Snape stood. "Now, either you get up there or else I'll dig out those pictures of you singing the soprano solo in your Second year," McGonagall snapped. "And yes, the sound is still quite audible."

Snape scowled again, but gave in.

"Are we all quite ready now?" Dumbledore asked a few moments later, eliciting small chuckles from most of the students. "Excellent! Let us start. You should all remember the first line!" He began to conduct, and most of the school sang, "On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to me. . . ."

FINAL CHORUS:

ALL: On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me:
Luna: Twelve snorkacks galumphing!
Crabbe: Uh . . . what?
Ginny: Ten lions roaring;
Moody: Nine aurors stunning;
Malfoy: Eight Purebloods in triumph!
Peeves: Seven Firsties screaming;
Flitwick: Six wands a waving;
Harry: Five golden snitches!
Snape (tonelessly): Four cauldrons bubbling;
Cho: Three broomsticks flying;
Hermione: Two freed house elves;
ALL: And a phoenix in an enchanted tree!

The students roared in approval, drank their holiday egg nog, and exited the hall to carriages, ready to celebrate the season. Snape slinked back towards the dungeons, shivering as he heard McGonagall call out to him, "I assure you, Severus, I have it all recorded. Have a Happy Christmas!"