The Pact

Although a blazing fire burned deep in the Slytherin common room at the bottom of the lake, the stone-walled basement was still bitterly cold, with fine beads of moisture clinging to the walls.

"This is the first Christmas I haven't gone home. It's a special experience, I suppose."

Aber sat hunched in his chair, staring at the tag on the gift box for a long time before daring to wrap a long, fuzzy-wuzzy around his neck. It was the Christmas present Pandora had given him.

The fuzzy-wuzzy was covered in soft fur as bright as flames, smooth and silky to the touch. Right now, it was exceptionally docile, lying obediently on Aber's neck like a stretched-out, miniature kneazle.

"Oh~" Aber couldn't help but moan in comfort, a look of bliss on his face. "Damn, it even gives off heat. This is amazing! Maybe I could get some to sell in my family's shop—they'd definitely sell well..."

As if sensing Aber's satisfaction, the fuzzy-wuzzy began to hum a strange little tune.

But then, the quiet fuzzy-wuzzy suddenly lifted its head, shot out a long, thin pink tongue, and like a snake, it slithered straight up Aber's nose.

"Mmph—" The shock nearly made Aber choke. He instinctively yanked the fuzzy-wuzzy off, his face full of shock and confusion, muttering, "What the hell is it doing..."

"Don't—" When he saw what was on the fuzzy-wuzzy's tongue, Aber screamed in horror, "Blegh—"

But it was too late. The fuzzy-wuzzy had already shoved its tongue into its own mouth and neatly swallowed Aber's dried booger.

"Wasn't it supposed to only do that while I'm asleep?" Aber said, looking at the fuzzy-wuzzy curled into a ball on the armchair with disgust. "At least then I wouldn't have to see it, right?"

"Not bad for Care of Magical Creatures," Snape said slowly, using his wand to pour himself a cup of hot tea. He took a comfortable sip, looking pleased. "Guess why I didn't get one of these as a gift?"

"It hasn't eaten yours too, has it?" Aber's eyes went wide with shock, his face full of disbelief. "No way?"

"Ugh—don't say it so disgustingly," Snape replied with disdain. "This one is a new breed!"

"Fine, fine." Aber rubbed his hands helplessly, muttering as he picked up the fuzzy-wuzzy and put it back on. "It's my creation anyway... as long as I don't take it out... little guy, you just stay put in the dormitory..."

In front of both of them were piles of gifts waiting to be opened.

Snape had even received a thick, bright green hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, along with a large box of homemade fudge.

Of course, Snape had also carefully chosen gifts for the three Weasley children.

He sent to The Burrow a Christmas candy gift pack from Honeydukes, two toy broomsticks, and a copy of How to Gain Power as a Prefect specifically for Percy.

The day after Christmas, Snape borrowed the fireplace in the Headmaster's office from Dumbledore. Although he hadn't gone back for Christmas, Eileen had written to him, saying she was waiting at home for him to come back for his birthday.

Snape stepped into the emerald-green flames and called out, "Ottery St Catchpole!"

As soon as he spoke, the fire engulfed him. Spinning at high speed, he caught blurred glimpses of wizards' rooms, but before he could focus, the images flashed by. Then, his rotation slowed, and he landed neatly in the fireplace of the village post office.

The houses in Ottery St Catchpole were scattered in a pleasing arrangement, the rolling hills covered in a layer of pure white snow, and smoke curled from the chimneys of every home.

Snape looked toward his own house and saw that the garden hedge had grown thick and lush, like a green barrier.

The garden gnomes shouldn't be able to sneak in so easily now, he thought.

Eileen had known he was coming back today, and she was already busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron, frantically preparing a lavish dinner.

On January 9th, just as dawn was breaking, Snape was woken by a flock of owls, chattering as they delivered a huge pile of gifts.

"Happy seventeenth birthday, Severus," Eileen said gently, standing in front of the frying pan, busy with her work.

Her gift to him was sitting on the table. When he opened it, inside was an exquisite silver watch, with a white cloud painted on the dial and little birds flying in and out of it.

It was a tradition for a wizard's relatives to give him a watch when he came of age.

Aber's large package contained a complete set of twelve books from the "Bewitching Witches" series. In a world where lighting fires and using the toilet could be solved with magic, Snape couldn't for the life of him figure out what practical use these books would have.

As for the homemade magic razor Pandora had given him, he had no intention of using it. After all, no one would think putting such an unreliable-looking razor near their face and neck was a wise choice.

And so, Snape spent a few days at home in a decadent slump, being fed and waited on.

During that time, he also cheerfully waved his wand, thoroughly plowing the garden and tossing all those annoying gnomes down the hillside in one go.

Of course, under Eileen's orders, he had to obediently turn the chairs he had transformed into hunting dogs back to normal.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, it was time to return to school. The new term was about to start, and Snape had to leave the warm little house, brave the cold down the mountain, and go through the post office to Hogwarts.

"Good evening, Professor," Snape said, climbing steadily out of the fire.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, which was covered in balls of yarn, holding two long knitting needles in his hands, intently focused on several Muggle magazines spread out before him.

Hearing the voice, he looked up with a kind smile. "Good evening, Severus. Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Professor." Snape brushed the ash off his robes and cast a spell to clean the carpet thoroughly. "What about the matter I mentioned to you before I left? Have you considered it?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape very seriously for a moment before speaking solemnly. "I think it can be done, Severus. You have earned this right—or rather, this responsibility."

"Very well, Professor. It's settled," Snape said calmly. "I am ready at any time. When you are about to leave the school, I will go with you to find them."

After leaving the Headmaster's office, Snape unconsciously walked to the window and gazed into the distance.

The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, the sky dyed a brilliant orange-red. The snow on the grounds was even deeper than on the hills of Ottery St Catchpole.

In the distance, Hagrid stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, carefully feeding a group of hippogriffs.

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