Hogwarts i am snape

The December weather had turned exceptionally harsh, with a biting wind howling and snowflakes once again swirling outside the windows, lashing against the frosted panes. The surface of the Black Lake had long since frozen solid, gleaming with a cold, steely blue light. 

Christmas was fast approaching. Hagrid's towering figure was once again bustling in the Great Hall, grunting and heaving as he single-handedly dragged in a dozen fresh Christmas trees. 

The staircases were draped with vibrant green holly and shimmering tinsel; perpetual candles flickered inside the helmets of suits of armour; and along the corridors, great bunches of mistletoe, like tiny bells, hung at intervals, swaying gently in the faint breeze. 

"Old Sluggy didn't invite you to his Christmas party?" Abbott asked, his voice laced with surprise. 

They were currently making their way through the vegetable patches, treading on the mud hardened by the cold wind, heading towards the greenhouses. 

As they walked, Abbott turned his head to Snape, teasing, "Looks like he finally recognized your evil nature." 

"Indeed," Snape said, quite pleased with himself. "Which is why I've decided to spend the entire day with you then, and drag you into the impenetrable abyss." 

"Don't—" Abbott's eyes widened dramatically, and he waved his hands emphatically. "You know I have plans!" 

"It's alright, I don't mind," Snape said, smiling. "I'll just watch you two from the side." 

Abbott shot Snape a disdainful glance, let out a small huff through his nose, and quickened his pace. 

The week-long gale had finally subsided today, but that peculiar thick fog had returned. It took them much longer than usual to grope their way through the mist to the correct greenhouse for their class. 

"Seriously," Abbott whispered, "Are you really planning to spend Christmas alone?" 

They were standing by the gnarled stump of a Gouty Grub, preparing to put on their protective gloves. Gouty Grubs were part of their curriculum this term. 

As Abbott pulled on his gloves, he gestured to the side with his chin; Pandora was standing not far off, meticulously putting on her gum-shield. 

"I'll invite her to join us too," Snape said muffledly from behind his gum-shield. 

"I swear, you won't find me then, ouch—" Abbott snapped indignantly. He'd been too hasty putting on his protective goggles, and his hand slipped too quickly, causing the goggles to spring back and hit him hard on the eye socket. 

"Careful there, mate," Snape sighed dramatically, feigning concern. "Madam Pomfrey can't fix a ruptured eyeball. If you lose it, you'll have to get a magical eye—" 

"No talking in here!" Professor Sprout's voice suddenly rang out, her steps hurried, her expression stern, cutting off their conversation. "You're lagging behind; the others have already started, and Pandora has even managed to get a pod!" 

They turned to look. Sure enough, Pandora was sitting there, her lips bleeding, and several nasty-looking scratches marred half her face. 

Yet, she was intently staring at a disgusting, pulsating little object in her hand. The pod was the size of a grapefruit and wriggled in her grasp. 

"Alright, Professor, we're on it!" 

Seeing the professor turn away, Abbott quickly whispered to Snape, "I take back what I said. If you two spend an entire Christmas together, I'm afraid next time I'll only be able to greet you as several quiet pieces in a wooden box." 

"Alright, hurry up... we'd better get on with it..." Snape rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. "Don't forget my protective enchantments are already better than Professor Grubbly-Plank's." 

They took a few deep breaths and then plunged into tackling the gnarly stump between them. 

The stump immediately behaved like a monster suddenly awakened, long, thorny vines shooting out from its top, lashing and hissing through the air. 

One of the thorny vines wrapped around Abbott's hair, and Snape quickly whacked it back with a pair of pruning shears. 

Abbott finally managed to grab two vines, pulling them together with all his might and tying them in a knot. 

A small opening finally appeared amidst these tentacle-like branches. Snape seized the opportunity, swiftly reaching his arm into the hole, which immediately clamped shut on his elbow like a mousetrap. 

Seeing this, Abbott desperately tugged and twisted the vines, finally forcing the opening to gape again. Snape at last managed to pull his arm out, a pod like the one Pandora had just retrieved clutched in his hand. 

Instantly, all the thorny vines retracted, and the gnarled stump lay still, like a lifeless piece of deadwood. 

"Cough," Abbott nearly choked on himself, coughing a few times before recovering. "How did she do that alone? It's terrifying." 

"Good question," Snape said, looking disdainfully at the wiggling, pale green caterpillar-like pod in his hand. "I've always wondered how her experiments work. 

"It makes absolutely no sense; she can even make dittany more vicious than a Snapping Teacup..." 

"Don't be sluggish, quickly squeeze out the juice while it's fresh, for the best quality!" Professor Sprout's voice rang out again. She paced around the greenhouse, constantly urging her students. 

"I've never seen..." Abbott continued the conversation that had been interrupted, pressing the pod tightly with both hands, squeezing it with all his might to get the juice into the bowl. 

"Though it frightens me a bit, after witnessing her experiments last time, I must admit, I've never seen any wizard or witch do what she does." 

"Wouldn't it be even more terrifying if you saw it more often?" 

Snape was flipping through A Compendium of Carnivorous Plants, looking for the correct way to juice the Gouty Grub's pod. 

"Don't bother struggling, look at this. We need to prick them with something sharp." 

"Hand that to me, Sev," Abbott said, reaching for the pruning shears Snape handed him. "By the way, I heard that a few days after the holidays, we'll be able to attend Apparition lessons taught by a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Are you interested?" 

"Of course. I truly wish time would hurry," Snape said, eagerly. "I'll be seventeen on January ninth next year." 

"I'm in March," Abbott said, putting down his pod. "That means we can both attend the training." 

"How exciting, imagine if we could—" Abbott snapped his fingers to signify vanishing, a bright smile on his face. "Once I learn it, I'll be able to go wherever I want when we visit Hogsmeade on weekends..." 

"Yes," Snape said, lost in reverie. "Then we'll be able to go anywhere, and our Traces will disappear too..."