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How the Snape Stole Christmas

Title: How the Snape Stole Christmas
Author: sparkin
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Genres: Humour/Parody, Romance, Futurefic, AU, Slash, WIP
Warnings: Adult Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Schmoop
Summary: A retelling of the Christmas classic - Snarry style!
Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the master of the universe and I bow down before her infinite wisdom. She, her various publishers and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter-related. Dr. Suess and Random House own the writing style. All I own is my pride (and that's open to negotiation.)
Author's Notes: Half-Blood Prince? What Half-Blood Prince? This story is dominated by gay themes and characters. If this makes you uncomfortable, do not read any further.
Beta: Beta'd by the loverly miche_connor, but then I tinkered with it slightly afterwards, so all remaining errors are mine.

How the Snape Stole Christmas

Every child up in Hogwarts liked Christmas a lot...
But the Snape, who lived in the dungeons, DID NOT!
The Snape hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be his hair was greasy and looked like a wig.
It could be, perhaps, that his nose was too big.
But I think the most likely reason of all,
May have been that his cock was two inches too small.

Whatever the reason, his cock or his hair,
He sat there, drinking Scotch, with an evil Snape-glare.
For he knew that every child in Hogwarts above,
Was spouting off platitudes about peace, joy and love.

"They're wrapping their presents and grinning with glee,
But no one's ever thought to give a present to me."
He glared at the fire as it crackled and popped,
"Tonight's Christmas Eve, it has to be stopped!"

For tomorrow, he knew, all the idiot young teens
Would dress in Gryffindor reds and Slytherin greens!
They would want to look pretty, they'd want to be seen,
So they would primp in the mirror. They would PREEN!
PREEN! PREEN! PREEN!

Then the students and staff would sit down for a feast.
And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST!
FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!

They would feast on roast turkey and sweet Christmas cake.
Christmas cake has too much sugar; it makes his teeth ache.
And THEN they'd do something Snape liked least of all!
Every soul in the castle would go to a Ball.

They would stand close together, sharing a nervous glance.
They'd stand chest-to-chest, and the fools would all dance!
They'd prance! And they'd prance! They'd PRANCE!
PRANCE! PRANCE! PRANCE!

And the more the Snape thought about this stupid Yule Dance,
The more the Snape thought "I must halt it in advance!
Why for twenty-two years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! But HOW?"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea!
THE SNAPE GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I'll steal through the castle," he said off the cuff,
"Tonight I'll go 'round and steal all their stuff!
I'll take their decorations, their presents and joy,
Then I'll blame the whole thing on Professor Malfoy!"

The Snape hated Malfoy, he had for years now.
Draco had mocked him, so revenge was his vow.
They had almost hooked up on one Eve of New Years,
The blonde man was hot, who would ignore those leers?

They'd gone back to Snape's rooms and begun to undress
When Malfoy had halted mid-way through a caress.
Snape detested Malfoy, the blonde was a dick!
Malfoy'd stopped and derided the size of Snape's prick.

He'd pointed and laughed at Snape's rather small cock.
He then offered Snape the use of a sock!
Snape was angry as hell, but he tried not to grieve.
Quietly, he said, "I suggest that you leave."

For nearly two years now, Snape had bided his time,
"But now," thought the Snape, "Vengeance is mine!"
He'd steal the school's joy, and when he was done,
Draco would be left with the so-called "smoking gun."

Snape found some old bags and some old empty sacks,
That he shrunk and put in the pockets of his slacks.
Then in a flurry of robes he exited his suite,
He stalked through the hallways, making no sounds with his feet.

The first stop he made was by the painting of fruit,
Into the kitchen he stole, to steal all the loot.
He snuck 'tween the tables, the Snape-y old miser,
He took care to stay hidden, no-one was the wiser.

He slipped some butterbeer into the House Elves' drinks,
In no time they were drunk, and passed out in the sinks.
He tied them all up and stuck them all to one side,
Then to the refrigerator, the Snape he did stride.

He took the potatoes, that rotten old snake.
He took the roast turkey and the sweet Christmas cake!
He stole the Christmas puddings, he stole the goose!
Why the Snape even stole all their pumpkin juice!

He stuffed all the food into a bag and he shrunk it,
But first he was hungry, so he ate a buttered crumpet.
Then it was off to the dorms of the students he taught.
He'd been a spy for many years, there's no way he'd be caught.

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,
Around all the dorms, and he took every present!
Chess sets! And jumpers! Brooms! And some candy!
From Albus, he even stole one bottle of brandy!

Then down to the Great Hall, he strode in the dark,
The Snape was so smug that he grinned like a shark.
He was in the Great Hall before he realised his error,
For inside the Great Hall was an eyeglass wearer.

"Oh shit!" thought the Snape as he smothered a groan,
"Now what do I do? My cover's been blown!"
A handsome young man stood holding a glass of water.
Ruining his plans was Harry-bloody-Potter!

How could he escape now that he'd been caught?
He tried not to notice that Potter was hot.
"What the hell?" he thought at his traitorous mind.
"Now's not the time to dwell on Potter's behind!"

Four years ago now, since the Dark Lord's demise.
Four years since Snape had last seen those green eyes.
Potter was barely eighteen when he'd killed old snake-face,
Then the exhausted young man had disappeared without trace.

Now Potter was back, how long would he stay?
Once Christmas was done, would he once more run away?
Not that it mattered to Snape. He cared not a bit.
Not even to himself would his feelings he admit.

Snape had lusted for the man, though he hid it 'neath a glare,
But Potter was straight, so that was neither here nor there.
In any event, he had concerns much more pressing,
Like how to escape without Potter guessing.

He went on the offensive to distract the world's saviour.
Perhaps the young man wouldn't notice Snape's behaviour.
"Potter!" he barked with trademark Snape sneer,
"You're not a student anymore, why are you here?"

The brat had the gall to smirk at Snape's sneer,
Why the bothersome man even shot Snape a leer!
"Why hello to you too, and Happy Christmas, Professor.
May I add you look scrumptious?" said the irksome aggressor.

The Snape was at a loss, his lips were pulled thin.
The Gryffindor was gay? And hitting on HIM?
"To answer you question," the brat was still talking
"I was forced here by Albus, else his bird would keep squawking.

"Fawkes was upsetting my owl, and he wouldn't shut up,
So I finally gave in and touched the portkey cup."
Then the boy seemed to notice something wasn't quite right.
"What are you doing here, Snape, at this time of night?"

But, you know, that old Snape was so smart and so slick,
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"I was looking for students who were up out of bed,
But I came in the Hall to find you instead."

A look passed 'round his face that might have been glee,
When Potter responded "I'M out of bed. Will YOU punish ME?"
The Snape was so surprised that he gaped and he spluttered,
"Merlin, don't I wish," under his breath he muttered.

But this couldn't real, it was only a trick.
Malfoy must have told him about Snape's small prick.
He'd thought Potter better, Snape was forced to admit,
This trickery was low, it stung quite a bit.

At Potter he glared and told him "Get out."
Potter replied "If you need me, just shout."
Then the flirt left the room, walking with grace and sass.
Snape stopped and stared, watching that magnificent ass.

After a moment or two, he turned with a jerk,
But he found it less fun to go back to work.
He was committed by now, he couldn't back out,
But he couldn't stop thinking about Potter's cute pout.

He took down the tinsel, he banished the trees,
He lowered the temperature by fifteen degrees.
He charmed the ceiling to look bleak and grey,
Then he packed everything up and he hurried away.

The wards on the Ferret's rooms were broken quite quickly.
Snape slipped through the door though it felt a bit prickly.
He hid everything 'round the room for good measure,
But the brandy he brought with him, it was his treasure.

He was outside his rooms when students woke from their snooze,
He hurried inside, there was no time to lose!
What awaited him there was quite a surprise.
He blinked once or twice, not believing his eyes.

Harry Potter was there, naked and spread,
He was wanking himself on top of Snape's bed.
The man must be confident, his balls made of brass,
For he was also shoving two fingers right up his own ass.

He gave Snape a look, with those startling green eyes;
The look was so lustful t'would cause corpses to rise.
"Please" he breathed out "don't walk out and duck me."
Harry panted and keened, "I want you to fuck me."

What happened next? In the Staff Room they say,
That the Snape's small cock grew FIVE inches that day!
He pounced on Potter, a sensation quite pleasant,
Here just for him, was his very first present.

Snape couldn't help thinking as he pounded Potter's hole
That to keep doing this, he'd sell his own soul.
Then thinking became difficult so he decided instead
To just pound young Harry into the bed.

Snape came in the boy's arse, he came on Snape's chest.
They came in the shower, and on the bed that they messed.
Snape smiled before he fell into post-coital slumber,
He'd come many more times than he cared to number.

He had nearly drifted off when he started to tense.
What had he done? Had he lost all his sense?
He felt he'd been doused with a cold glass of water.
He remembered he was lying next to Harry James Potter!

Potter had it all, he could have who he wanted,
Tomorrow, Snape knew, he would be publicly taunted.
The Snape served his purpose, Potter achieved his goal,
The greasy old git was another notch on his pole.

But the brat seemed to know what the Snape was thinking,
He stared into Snape's eyes, with his own eyes not blinking.
"If this is it, then I'll take it. You should know, however,
That if you'll have me, I want you, now and forever."

Snape tried to snort at such syrupy tripe,
But he found that he couldn't, he had no more snipe.
That should have frightened him, it was really quite scary,
But right now he didn't care; he was with Harry.

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store."
"Maybe Christmas means being deliciously sore!"
With a wave of his wand he returned all he stole,
But just he couldn't resist leaving Malfoy some coal.

The one thing he kept was Dumbledore's brandy.
It couldn't be helped. They'd drunk it while randy.
In any event, Snape had a feeling most acute
That they'd been helped along by the meddling old coot.

The pair spent Christmas just exploring one another,
For the day their world was only each other.
Neither Potter nor Snape attended the Ball or the Feast,
But the Headmaster, it's said, didn't mind in the least.

The crazy old man knew all in the castle.
The portraits all spy for him without any hassle.
He had known what the Snape had planned overnight,
But Harry, as he'd hoped, set everything right.

When Snape started his spree, Albus had feared for his candy,
Thank God all it cost him was a bottle of brandy.
He loved his two boys; he wanted them happy.
So what if it made him just a little bit sappy?

The End
 


Merry Christmas!
Tags: snarry
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