Snape's Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the school skulked Severus Snape, with a scowl so cruel.
The stockings were hung in the great hall with care, in hopes that the Headmaster would fill them with fare.
The students were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of ice mice danced in their heads.
McGonagall in her tartan watched Snape in his cloak while he settled down for a long winter's mope.
When outside the school there arose such a clatter, Snape sprang from his chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he prowled like a flash, and flicking his wand gave the curtains a slash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow made him wonder what dangers could lurk just below,
When what to his angry black eyes should appear, but a blue muggle car and two students, oh dear!
With a scared little driver redheaded and thick, he knew in a moment "It's Weasley! ….the prick."
More rapid than horntails the students they came, and Snape cursed them and hexed them called them by name.
Well, Potter, well, Weasley what have we here? I'm afraid I might ruin your holiday cheer.
To the office with you! He yelled with a roar. As he pushed them straight to the headmaster's door.
Their mouths were agape as his insults did fly, they knew that with Snape, they truly might die.
So up to the castle-top with his students he flew, hoping that one'd get expelled, maybe two!
And then in a twinkling he saw with a poof, the headmaster appeared seeming somewhat aloof.
Snape grabbed both their necks and was turning around, showing to Dumbledore the trouble he'd found.
He was dressed all in blue from his head to his foot, and he was watching his phoenix rise from the soot.
He gave a quick yawn, put his hands on his back, and looked at the students Snape hoped that he'd sack.
His eyes gave a twinkle! Snape thought,"he's too merry!" He stood wise like Moses, and looked right at Harry!
His terrified students still held by their foe, saw him stroking his beard, which was white as the snow.
A lemon drop treat he held tight in his teeth. And Fawkes's smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He offered them sweets that weren't in his belly, while Snape's anger shook like a bowl full of jelly.
"He's weak and forgiving, like Dobby, that elf," thought Snape as he muttered his thoughts to himself.
A wink of his eye and a grin on his head, soon let them know they had nothing to dread;
Snape spoke not a word, staring at Potter…the jerk, he should spend Christmas eve doing punishment work!
And laying a finger on his over-sized nose, he gave a quick sneer as his bitterness rose;
He sprang into step, leaving Weasley and Potter, his anger still simmering hotter and hotter.
They heard him exclaim as he lurked out of sight, "You've won Christmas Eve Potter, but you won't every night!"