Christmas Quiz
You know Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, and Donder and Blitzen. But do you recall the most famous Potion Master of all? Severus the big nosed teacher had a very crabby mood… Happy holidays, fangirls. All of the stories in today's quiz have a yule theme. Enjoy!
The first person to post the correct answers will get a prezzie!!! GO!
Match the story to the quote:
Gifts by Mithril
Keep Your Enemy Close by leni_jess
Endless Waltz by White Silence aka silentpheonix
Winter Heart by Imhilien
Visiting an Orphanage by southernwitch69
One Too Many by sshg316
A Prince Family Recipe by Jenwryn
Christmas In Manchester by lulabelle72
Yuletide Ball by Corazon
A Successful Warming Charm by alphafemale aka danistormborn
Christmas Wishes Do Come True by Good_Witch aka pern_dragon
Winter of Our Discontent by losille2000
1. "Why are you shoveling like that?" she asked.
"So that we can get this done before anyone sees us," he said through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I see. Severus Snape can't be seen doing a good deed. Why, it would just ruin his reputation!"
"Correct. I've worked far too long on being a bastard to have it all be for nothing." And the sooner we get this done, the sooner I could take advantage of your holiday generosity and perhaps get a kiss. "Now hurry up."
As he flipped another shovelful of snow to the side, the door opened, and a small, wrinkled face peered out.
"Severus? Is that you?"
"Yes, Millie. We're just about finished."
"Oh, that's so wonderful of you! And who is this, your girlfriend?"
2. As it turned out, Dobby was not the only house-elf to have joined the noble ranks of Christmas elves. Hermione, who had been raised Muggle, suddenly appreciated the magic of Christmas. She finally understood how the elves would have the skills to manufacture ludicrous amounts of toys.
But Hermione was disconcerted to hear Dobby’s description of the Naughty or Nice List. After Dobby had finished beating himself with an icy stick, Hermione had managed to uncover that Santa had listed nearly every boy and girl as Naughty.
She could only think of one man so utterly lacking in holiday spirit.
******
“Why, Miss Granger, I see you found the place easily enough.”
Hermione stood by the fire, letting the flames in the hearth and the anger in her heart warm her. As her internal temperature increased, she felt the magic reawaken in her blood. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to use the magic that had hibernated during her walk to Santa’s House.
Once Snape was on the floor with a rounded belly, Dumbledorian beard and the perfect red suit, Hermione chuckled at his inability to protect himself from her jinxes.
But she supposed he should be used to the role.
3. As Hermione neared the door, she took in the lovely decorations-holly, merry wreaths, garland, and many little hand-painted ornaments were strewn about the walls. The children had decorated nearly everything. The large tree in the center of the eating hall took her breath away.
Goodness, it looks like one of those huge trees that Hagrid drags into Hogwarts.
And there was Father Christmas in the center of the room, sitting in a rocking chair near the fire with all the children surrounding him and listening attentively. She got a little closer and stopped. She knew that voice.
Deep. Silky. Rich. Darkly delicious. So smooth it could have been melted chocolate poured over a Sundae. Perfect.
Snape’s voice.
“What the…?” she whispered to herself. He’d charmed his appearance so that he had white hair and a matching beard that rivaled the late Dumbledore’s. She’d never seen him wear something so bright, but yet, there he was in red robes that were trimmed in billowy, white material.
He never looked up from his book or his audience as she placed her bag of gifts near the tree and slowly unloaded the wrapped boxes. But she could barely keep her eyes off the man or the smile from her face.
4. The rich perfumes of Christmas dinner surrounded them.
It hadn't taken long to decide they would rather eat where they sat than move to the cold formality of the dining table. They'd placed the trays that Minty had brought them before the fireplace, and with their plates rested on their knees and the silver cutlery gleaming in the light, Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was back at a Gryffindor feast.
She said as much, and he laughed that deep laugh she'd discovered with the eggnog. Except that she'd made it herself, she'd have started to question its ingredients…
5. “You want me to what?”
Hermione leant further across the table, accentuating the cleavage visible in the plunging neckline of her dress. Laughter rippling her voice, she said, very distinctly, “I’ve always had a silly little fantasy about sitting in Father Christmas’ lap and asking for what I want. But, instead of being a little girl and asking for toys or a pony, I want to be a woman, and ask for things rather more… adult.”
She tilted her head meaningfully and smirked at him. Snape swallowed hard. Pressing her advantage, knowing how rare it was to catch this particular wizard off-guard, she lilted, “I would love for you to dress as Father Christmas and let me sit in your lap while I whisper all the things I want in your ear.”
6. She hadn't seen him coming, or heard him approach, but suddenly Hermione saw Professor Snape standing by the lake, watching her. Though his expression was unreadable, it was clear to her that he wanted her to come off the ice.
For what reason, Hermione thought grimly as she halted and stared back at him. For him to repeat the things he had said before?
His black robes swirled around him in a breeze and he impatiently brushed a lock of his greasy black hair aside from his sallow face. Part of Hermione responded to his unspoken command and she found herself obediently skating closer to him, then stopped.
No.
A dark eyebrow was raised.
"Miss Granger?" Professor Snape questioned.
Hermione shook her head wordlessly and turning away from him skated away across the lake.
It was a mistake to have given him a Christmas present.
7. For their actual Christmas Harry and she had had carol singing from the church in Godric's Hollow, heard from outside, and other people's illuminated Christmas trees, seen from outside, and a long slog through the snow, and a fight with Nagini.
And she had broken Harry's wand.
Talk about "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye", and "we shall all be changed" - not what Handel had been thinking about. How could Harry save the wizarding world without a wand? She had seen how unhappy he was with what hers could do for him.
8. Using an old Dumbledore standby, he hastily scribbled “socks.”
Two more to go.
He glanced at the paper he had discarded, espying the one page ad with ice-skates resting on a trunk, the words, “T.E.-Winter is on its way.” Fine then, he would add… ice-skates. He smirked. Hopefully the person who received his requests would not think it wise to purchase such a gift for him.
It occurred to him for a fleeting second that he might receive Granger’s requests, and she, his. And finally, he wrote “A Gryffindor suffering a medieval torture. Preferably in a Scold’s Bridle.”
Just as he was signing his name to it, Minerva plucked the parchment from his fingers, announcing to the room, “You will receive your recipient’s requests by owl tomorrow. All gifts are to be given by the end of the year. Don’t put it off, because you do not want to know what will happen if you do not participate. If you have any questions regarding your recipient, please speak with me, and I will speak with the recipient and relay the information back to you. And finally, have fun.”
9. “It is beautiful, thank you!”
The Potion Master blinked in disbelief. Beautiful? A pair of socks?
However, it was not a pair of socks that Hermione took out from her box. It was a delicate crystal rose accompanied by an iridescent card. Oblivious to his shock, the young woman read it aloud:
“My dear Lady,
You are cordially invited to a diner for two that
Will be taking place at December the 26 th at the
Ritz-Starlight.
Sincerely yours, S.”
A now mute Hermione flushed furiously as she re-read the letter. Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with wonder. “I will be delighted.”
An astonished Snape only managed to nod.
Suddenly an angry scream was heard. Everyone fell silent and turned towards the source.
“How dare you!”
It was Fleur Delacour’s voice directed to a pale Sirius Black. The poor wizard had both hands raised in a protective way.
“Fleur, I--”
“Do you call this a gift?” She shouted, throwing something that suspiciously resembled a pair of brown socks to his face. “What were you thinking!”
She stormed out of the room.
10. Holding her hand up, she politely said, “I’d rather not, Minerva.” Because she was being a prude? Of course. She felt alcohol didn’t have a place at a children’s dance and said so. “We are at a student’s dance, and I feel that as a professor, we should be setting an example for the students.”
“Keep telling yourself that, dear,” said Minerva as she finished her beverage and walked over to converse with Albus.
Hermione smiled and shook her head. On her list of New Year’s Resolutions she vowed to be less of a prude and here, with only days left in the year, she began to realize the challenge ahead of her. Maybe I could use a drink, she told herself, but then she saw him, Severus Snape, lurking in the shadows. Bastard, she thought. He had made her life miserable as a student and not much had changed as a professor. One would think he would have softened up being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but no such luck. She glared at him, wondering if he received her Christmas present, and then she saw it…”Oh Merlin’s pants!” she whispered under her breath. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she had to do something.
“Shite!” she snapped loud enough for a few students to hear and then bee- lined straight to Professor Rikkus for a drink - not a specialty drink, but a straight firewhiskey.
The first person to post the correct answers will get a prezzie!!! GO!
Match the story to the quote:
Gifts by Mithril
Keep Your Enemy Close by leni_jess
Endless Waltz by White Silence aka silentpheonix
Winter Heart by Imhilien
Visiting an Orphanage by southernwitch69
One Too Many by sshg316
A Prince Family Recipe by Jenwryn
Christmas In Manchester by lulabelle72
Yuletide Ball by Corazon
A Successful Warming Charm by alphafemale aka danistormborn
Christmas Wishes Do Come True by Good_Witch aka pern_dragon
Winter of Our Discontent by losille2000
1. "Why are you shoveling like that?" she asked.
"So that we can get this done before anyone sees us," he said through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I see. Severus Snape can't be seen doing a good deed. Why, it would just ruin his reputation!"
"Correct. I've worked far too long on being a bastard to have it all be for nothing." And the sooner we get this done, the sooner I could take advantage of your holiday generosity and perhaps get a kiss. "Now hurry up."
As he flipped another shovelful of snow to the side, the door opened, and a small, wrinkled face peered out.
"Severus? Is that you?"
"Yes, Millie. We're just about finished."
"Oh, that's so wonderful of you! And who is this, your girlfriend?"
2. As it turned out, Dobby was not the only house-elf to have joined the noble ranks of Christmas elves. Hermione, who had been raised Muggle, suddenly appreciated the magic of Christmas. She finally understood how the elves would have the skills to manufacture ludicrous amounts of toys.
But Hermione was disconcerted to hear Dobby’s description of the Naughty or Nice List. After Dobby had finished beating himself with an icy stick, Hermione had managed to uncover that Santa had listed nearly every boy and girl as Naughty.
She could only think of one man so utterly lacking in holiday spirit.
******
“Why, Miss Granger, I see you found the place easily enough.”
Hermione stood by the fire, letting the flames in the hearth and the anger in her heart warm her. As her internal temperature increased, she felt the magic reawaken in her blood. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to use the magic that had hibernated during her walk to Santa’s House.
Once Snape was on the floor with a rounded belly, Dumbledorian beard and the perfect red suit, Hermione chuckled at his inability to protect himself from her jinxes.
But she supposed he should be used to the role.
3. As Hermione neared the door, she took in the lovely decorations-holly, merry wreaths, garland, and many little hand-painted ornaments were strewn about the walls. The children had decorated nearly everything. The large tree in the center of the eating hall took her breath away.
Goodness, it looks like one of those huge trees that Hagrid drags into Hogwarts.
And there was Father Christmas in the center of the room, sitting in a rocking chair near the fire with all the children surrounding him and listening attentively. She got a little closer and stopped. She knew that voice.
Deep. Silky. Rich. Darkly delicious. So smooth it could have been melted chocolate poured over a Sundae. Perfect.
Snape’s voice.
“What the…?” she whispered to herself. He’d charmed his appearance so that he had white hair and a matching beard that rivaled the late Dumbledore’s. She’d never seen him wear something so bright, but yet, there he was in red robes that were trimmed in billowy, white material.
He never looked up from his book or his audience as she placed her bag of gifts near the tree and slowly unloaded the wrapped boxes. But she could barely keep her eyes off the man or the smile from her face.
4. The rich perfumes of Christmas dinner surrounded them.
It hadn't taken long to decide they would rather eat where they sat than move to the cold formality of the dining table. They'd placed the trays that Minty had brought them before the fireplace, and with their plates rested on their knees and the silver cutlery gleaming in the light, Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was back at a Gryffindor feast.
She said as much, and he laughed that deep laugh she'd discovered with the eggnog. Except that she'd made it herself, she'd have started to question its ingredients…
5. “You want me to what?”
Hermione leant further across the table, accentuating the cleavage visible in the plunging neckline of her dress. Laughter rippling her voice, she said, very distinctly, “I’ve always had a silly little fantasy about sitting in Father Christmas’ lap and asking for what I want. But, instead of being a little girl and asking for toys or a pony, I want to be a woman, and ask for things rather more… adult.”
She tilted her head meaningfully and smirked at him. Snape swallowed hard. Pressing her advantage, knowing how rare it was to catch this particular wizard off-guard, she lilted, “I would love for you to dress as Father Christmas and let me sit in your lap while I whisper all the things I want in your ear.”
6. She hadn't seen him coming, or heard him approach, but suddenly Hermione saw Professor Snape standing by the lake, watching her. Though his expression was unreadable, it was clear to her that he wanted her to come off the ice.
For what reason, Hermione thought grimly as she halted and stared back at him. For him to repeat the things he had said before?
His black robes swirled around him in a breeze and he impatiently brushed a lock of his greasy black hair aside from his sallow face. Part of Hermione responded to his unspoken command and she found herself obediently skating closer to him, then stopped.
No.
A dark eyebrow was raised.
"Miss Granger?" Professor Snape questioned.
Hermione shook her head wordlessly and turning away from him skated away across the lake.
It was a mistake to have given him a Christmas present.
7. For their actual Christmas Harry and she had had carol singing from the church in Godric's Hollow, heard from outside, and other people's illuminated Christmas trees, seen from outside, and a long slog through the snow, and a fight with Nagini.
And she had broken Harry's wand.
Talk about "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye", and "we shall all be changed" - not what Handel had been thinking about. How could Harry save the wizarding world without a wand? She had seen how unhappy he was with what hers could do for him.
8. Using an old Dumbledore standby, he hastily scribbled “socks.”
Two more to go.
He glanced at the paper he had discarded, espying the one page ad with ice-skates resting on a trunk, the words, “T.E.-Winter is on its way.” Fine then, he would add… ice-skates. He smirked. Hopefully the person who received his requests would not think it wise to purchase such a gift for him.
It occurred to him for a fleeting second that he might receive Granger’s requests, and she, his. And finally, he wrote “A Gryffindor suffering a medieval torture. Preferably in a Scold’s Bridle.”
Just as he was signing his name to it, Minerva plucked the parchment from his fingers, announcing to the room, “You will receive your recipient’s requests by owl tomorrow. All gifts are to be given by the end of the year. Don’t put it off, because you do not want to know what will happen if you do not participate. If you have any questions regarding your recipient, please speak with me, and I will speak with the recipient and relay the information back to you. And finally, have fun.”
9. “It is beautiful, thank you!”
The Potion Master blinked in disbelief. Beautiful? A pair of socks?
However, it was not a pair of socks that Hermione took out from her box. It was a delicate crystal rose accompanied by an iridescent card. Oblivious to his shock, the young woman read it aloud:
“My dear Lady,
You are cordially invited to a diner for two that
Will be taking place at December the 26 th at the
Ritz-Starlight.
Sincerely yours, S.”
A now mute Hermione flushed furiously as she re-read the letter. Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with wonder. “I will be delighted.”
An astonished Snape only managed to nod.
Suddenly an angry scream was heard. Everyone fell silent and turned towards the source.
“How dare you!”
It was Fleur Delacour’s voice directed to a pale Sirius Black. The poor wizard had both hands raised in a protective way.
“Fleur, I--”
“Do you call this a gift?” She shouted, throwing something that suspiciously resembled a pair of brown socks to his face. “What were you thinking!”
She stormed out of the room.
10. Holding her hand up, she politely said, “I’d rather not, Minerva.” Because she was being a prude? Of course. She felt alcohol didn’t have a place at a children’s dance and said so. “We are at a student’s dance, and I feel that as a professor, we should be setting an example for the students.”
“Keep telling yourself that, dear,” said Minerva as she finished her beverage and walked over to converse with Albus.
Hermione smiled and shook her head. On her list of New Year’s Resolutions she vowed to be less of a prude and here, with only days left in the year, she began to realize the challenge ahead of her. Maybe I could use a drink, she told herself, but then she saw him, Severus Snape, lurking in the shadows. Bastard, she thought. He had made her life miserable as a student and not much had changed as a professor. One would think he would have softened up being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but no such luck. She glared at him, wondering if he received her Christmas present, and then she saw it…”Oh Merlin’s pants!” she whispered under her breath. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she had to do something.
“Shite!” she snapped loud enough for a few students to hear and then bee- lined straight to Professor Rikkus for a drink - not a specialty drink, but a straight firewhiskey.