Title: Snape the Christmas Ruiner

Rating: T for a bit of slash (SS/HP)

Warning: See above

Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter" or any characters mentioned in the series. I am not making money off of this story.

Snape the Christmas Ruiner

1Harry Potter grumpily stared into the flames of the fire. Upstairs, in Gryffindor Tower, all his friends were celebrating Christmas with a 'Happy Christmas' party. Harry had been invited to go, and had even meant to go, but the Christmas spirit had been yanked out of him, since then.

He wasn't allowed to go to the Weasley's for Christmas, like Harry had been planning to for a whole year. No, instead, he had to stay at Hogwarts, locked in its cold, damp, miserable dungeon.

It was all the fault of Snape. Stupid Snape. Stupid Christmas Ruiner Snape. Snape the Christmas Ruiner.

He had said that Harry going to the Weasley's was 'impermissible'. That it was impossible for Snape to leave Hogwarts during the holidays, and that it was 'improper for spouses -especially ones in their first year of marriage - to spend Christmas in separate venues'. So said Snape the Christmas Ruiner.

In September, the Ministry of Magic had decided that Harry needed a legal guardian in the Wizarding World, and Lucius Malfoy had stepped up to the plate. So, acting quickly in a scheme of Dumbledore's, Snape and Harry had wed, which consequently, made Harry a legal adult. There had not been anything Snape or Harry could do about it - like Snape had said at some point; they were both pawns in the chess game between Dumbledore and 'The Dark Lord'.

It hadn't been as bad as Harry had thought it might be - in other words, it actually was better than being daily tortured in Voldemort's clutches. It had not been a picnic, either, though. If Snape didn't insist on being so obstinate (a word Harry had picked up from him), Harry's life might not have changed much at all.

Snape didn't even decorate his quarters. Not even for Christmas. Harry didn't care how plain the walls and hearth were during most of the year, but during Christmas, you needed to have at least a little tree. With tinsel. And lights. And maybe a picture of Father Christmas - just a small one - somewhere.

But Snape - The Christmas Ruiner - had said that he found decorating trivial, a waste of time and space. He said that if Harry wanted to enjoy decorations, go into the Great Hall.

But he also said 'my quarters are now your quarters', a little voice reminded Harry. 'Just stay out of my private things.'

If Harry had quarters of his own, they would be full of the Christmas spirit. And if Snape didn't want to use his time to decorate, he wouldn't have to. Harry could do that.

He's going to kill you, the voice said in a sing-song tone, but Harry pushed it away. Snape hadn't actually been so bad since Halloween. They had actually been getting along pretty okay. If worse came to worse, Snape might almost kill him. And for Christmas, Harry was willing to risk it.

But how to get the decorations? Harry was still considered a student, despite his legal status, and wasn't allowed to leave Hogwarts grounds without a teacher. And Snape wouldn't come with Harry, once he finally came down to the dungeons - he would consider it a waste of time. And going into the Room of Requirement to steal Christmas decorations probably wasn't allowed... and he didn't think Sirius would have any Christmas decorations he would be able to give Harry if he sent him a letter and asked... he wondered if Kreacher was planning on decorating for Christmas. The idea was laughable.

Wait... Kreacher... an idea popped into Harry's head. An idea he couldn't shake. It had potentially disastrous results, but that only made it an even better idea.

"Dobby!" Harry called into this air.

The house-elf appeared with a pop! "Yes, Harry Potter?" The house-elf asked, eagerly.

Harry knelt down to Dobby's height, pulling a sock off of Dobby's long nose. "Dobby, I need your help."

With the help of Dobby, Harry was able to find a decent sized Evergreen tree, a ton of candles, a dirty shoe, a roll of red yarn, and a platter of mince pies. Harry was able to put the tree in the corner, obscuring part of Snape's bookshelf. The yarn was nicely transfigured into silver tinsel, and Dobby put the candles on the branches of tree, a pretty good replacement for Muggle bulbs, Harry figured.

The shoe became something that kind of, sort of looked like a garland (apparently real garland went against Gamp's Laws), and the extra candles joined it on the mantle. Harry's belly was full from snacking, and now he was able to plop I his chair, filled with pride and a Christmas cheer that not even Snape the Christmas Ruiner could ruin.

The sound of the Floo jerked Harry to his feet; all of the good Christmas cheer was gone.

Snape practically floated from the Floo. Harry always fell out of the Floo, and the contrast of the elegant way Snape walked out was amazing.

Snape was this black, dark, ominous person. Not only because of his dark clothing and hair, but there was just this foreboding air about him. An air Harry had been starting to think he just imagined – or maybe he only noticed the air when he knew he was going to be in trouble.

"My apologies for being-" Snape stopped short of one of his super rare apologies. Harry watched as Snape's pale features darkened, and his Adam's Apple bulged slightly.

Two words; Pickled Potter. Snape was going to kill him and turn him into Potions ingredients.

"What is this monstrosity doing in my sitting room?" Snape asked slowly, enunciating each word in a crisp fashion, as if he were struggling to control himself (not a hard thing to imagine, to be sure).

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "Um... they're Christmas decorations?"

"I know what they are; I asked what they were doing here." Snape's nostrils flared as he strode over to the mantle to examine the deformed garland.

Harry turned to face him. "I, um, put them up. I, um, thought that, they'd make the place look nice. Er," he quickly added. "Nicer. And," he said as an afterthought, "you said you didn't have much time to do it, so I figured-" he stopped short.

Snape was staring at the tree, the tree that was in front of his bookcase.

Harry walked over next to him, in an effort to see what Snape was looking at besides 'just' the tree. "What is it, Snape?" He asked.

"Severus." Snape reminded him. Snape had been after Harry to call him by his first name - outside the classroom - for forever.

"Right. What is it? Severus." It was a bit awkward saying his first name. He figured it'd be less so if Snape had a normal name like Ton, Dick, or...

"Harry?" Snape said. "The tree." His voice was very quiet.

He hates that it's in the way o his books. "I'm sorry it's in the way of our books, but you did say that we shared your quarters now, and I couldn't think of where else to put the tree." Harry explained in a hurry.

"Your quarters as well as mine..." Snape said, slowly. "Your decoration is silver."

"The tinsel?" It was silver. It was supposed to be silver.

Snape nodded. "Your tree is Slytherin colours."

Shite. It was. The green tree, plus the silver tinsel, equaled a Slytherin tree.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Harry crossed his arms.

Snape chuckled - the man actually chuckled. It was a deep, hearty chuckle, not menacing at all, which was always a good sign.

"Did you do that on purpose, as well?" Snape pointed to a piece of mistletoe, levitating in the air over their heads.

What the hell? I didn't... Dobby.

"N-No... I-I mean... N-N-No... I-I-I-"

Harry was cut short on his explanation as Snape's mouth slowly enclosed over his. It was warm, surprisingly soft...

Snape pulled away after a few moments, but stayed bent down to Harry's height. His dark eyes looked straight into Harry's. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

Maybe Snape wasn't such a Christmas Ruiner after all.

The End