A/N: Hi everybody! I know it's been a while, but I promise I've been working on quite a few things simultaneously. This story I wanted to push out before Christmas, considering the subject matter of it. There will be five chapters to it, just as in the book. I hope you all enjoy it and your reviews help encourage me, so thanks in advance!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I wasn't brilliant enough to come up with Rowling's Harry Potter or Dickens' A Christmas Carol first, so I've decided to meld the two authors' amazing works into one body of fiction, at no profit more than my enjoyment and hopefully yours!

A Hogwarts Christmas Carol

Chapter 1: Malfoy's Ghost

Severus Snape was bent over essays, writing blistering commentary in red ink across the standard black on the parchment in the barely-there light of a single candle. He was often found thus, at the end of a day, and Christmas Eve was no exception. He'd made those students of his who had stayed for the holiday write an essay on the various poisons made with Holly. It was just payment in his eyes, considering the fact that they chose to ruin his holiday by imposing themselves on him. They had grumbled to themselves, but no one argued with Snape, especially not these days.

The war against Voldemort had been seven years previous, but still, the echoes of it seemed to haunt Severus Snape. He acted no better than before, sometimes even worse. It made everyone fear him and leave him alone, which, coincidentally, was exactly what he wanted. Severus didn't care for the vapid attention and feigned sympathy that the Wizarding world had to offer. He'd rather cloister himself away with all his books for company. He could trust in books and knowledge, but never people.

His ideal wasn't possible. He had been obliged to return to his post as potions master after the war, partially because Minerva wished it of him, and mostly, because he didn't have enough funds to support himself and his penchant for buying several books a month without a job. Hogwarts was at least in a secluded part of the country, if not free from all nuisances.

Besides, Hermione Granger was now his apprentice, and could cover half of the classes by now. She was not there by his request, rather foisted upon him by Minerva. Supposedly she wished for the torment of being taught by him for another four years. When he questioned her decision, she only said she wished to learn from the best. Flattery had lost its impact on Severus, and he just wrote it up to some masochistic tendencies she'd kept hidden. Besides, with only half the work to do, it gave Snape more free time than he had ever experienced before. It didn't seem to be much of an improvement. If anything, it left him unsettled.

Speaking of his apprentice, she was seated behind a small desk across the room, marking essays as well by her own guttering candle, a frown on her face. He watched as she sighed and rubbed her hands together for warmth. It was very dank and dingy in this part of the castle, and Severus knew it was almost the perfect temperature for one to see one's own breath in. He wasn't bothered to change that though. It wasn't his problem that she never wore the proper robes to work in the dungeons during the peak of winter. He had learned from years of experience what to expect, and dressed accordingly, with an extra layer of clothes and his winter robes. If anything, it would spur his apprentice on to finish grading her papers even faster.

They were interrupted in their solitude when the door burst open to reveal Draco Malfoy, sporting a sparkling green robe that looked to be made of scales of some sort. It was so bright that, even just reflected off the pitiful light from two candles, Severus had to blink for a few seconds.

"Happy Christmas," He fairly shouted, swiftly making his way to Severus' desk. Severus merely grunted in reply. Draco smirked at the typical response as he stopped to lean against the other side. He ignored the Potion Master's pointed glare at the encroachment of his work space. "Surely you can be a bit more enthusiastic than that, Severus?"

"It is just another day to be bogged down with the problems of adolescents and the false platitudes of others trying to believe their selves merry," Severus grumbled, turning back to his essays. If they were to be talking about Christmas, he had better things to do with his time.

"Ah, but they know not to give you such 'false platitudes,' as you say," Draco replied. Severus just scowled. "Don't be so grumpy."

"It is hard to be cheerful in a world full of fools, Draco. What is Christmas but a time to waste your money on things for other people that they do not even want or need; A time to find yourself another year older, and not a second happier than before, though you try your hardest to pretend to feel so. I am forever bogged down by the writings of novices, held back from my true potential, and you expect me to be jubilant? I think not."

"Severus," Draco exclaimed in false censure at his pessimism, used to hearing such disgruntlement from his Godfather. Severus snorted when he saw the young man glare at where Hermione sat, trying to appear productive while being the nosey brat he knew she was. Severus knew there was no way she could be scared off by that glare. He'd used his formidable glare on her before, and she'd not even flinched.

"Draco, go enjoy your Christmas, and l will attend to mine, or leave it alone, as I wish. It won't do you any good to bother me about it more."

"Severus, the holidays may not be profitable financially, but I know that, for the spirit, it is just the touch of rejuvenation one needs. Though it has never helped me financially, I believe it has done me good, and will do me good."

Hermione snorted. At Severus' glare she raised an eyebrow before leisurely turning back to her stack of essays, just as her candle sputtered and extinguished. He shared a smirk with Draco at her muffled cursing.

"Don't think I can't kick you out of here at any time," he growled at her in the semi-darkness. He turned back to face Draco, who raised an eyebrow and looked around, as if just noticing the gloominess and lack of cheer in the room. "What a noble speech, coming from one of the wealthiest wizards on the British Isles. And, may I ask, who bought you that hideous robe? It's not something I'd think was to your taste." Draco smirk was almost a smile as he fingered the robes.

"It's from Luna. She claims it's made of Juvinia skin, whatever that is, but I suspect its origin was a large fish of some sort. Anyways, you should go to the staff Christmas party tomorrow, Severus," he replied solemnly, "You'll finally be able to meet my fiancée. Ah, and Granger, Luna wanted me to tell you that you should go as well." He smirked at the young woman who had once again lit her tiny candle. She shrugged reluctantly, but her face held a wistful look.

"Merry Christmas," he said, as jovially as a Slytherin can be, to both of them on his way back out of Snape's office. Severus scowled after him as Hermione quietly murmured a reply. He grumbled to himself, wondering how she could be so perpetually cheerful when she was stuck grading essays in a cold, gloomy room in a secluded part of Scotland, hundreds of miles from her friends, and with her surliest professor.

Not a minute after Draco left, there was another knock at the office door. Severus growled, making Hermione hesitate as she went to open it. In the doorway were two plump women, faces still rosy from cold and layers and layers of cloth draped over their broad shoulders. Though Snape didn't rise to welcome them, they felt no compunctions about stepping into the room.

"Ah, Mister Snape, is it?" one queried nervously.

"That would be my father," he growled in reply, "You may call me Professor." His abrupt and grudging reply made the ladies uncomfortable, his intended purpose. They were imposing on his valuable time.

One of the ladies cleared her throat and gave what Severus supposed was a practiced speech, "At this festive season of the year, Professor Snape, we would like to invite you to help spread the cheer to those less fortunate. There are many who still suffer greatly from the war against Voldemort, and we try, especially at this season, to bring a little cheer to those who have lost their loved ones. Many are without proper means of living, and have resorted to theft."

"Is Azkaban not available to take care of that problem?"

"It is fully running," the woman nervously twisted the material on one of her shawls.

"And what about jobs? Are there none left?"

"There are, though most cases reveal that the traumatized are in no condition for that situation."

"So, they are both available."

"Yes," the woman muttered. The other lady beside her stood mute, perhaps too nervous to speak.

"I was afraid for a second that these avenues had failed; that those needing to be put into Azkaban are running amok."

"We feel that such places do not offer such cheer as should be felt during the season, and are looking to bring about a means of giving each orphaned child and widowed mother in unfortunate circumstance a warm meal for the holidays," The woman continued on, doggedly, and Snape silently commended her fortitude. "How much shall I put you down for?"

Severus scowled when he realized the direction their conversation was going.

"Nothing!" The ladies jumped, startled.

"You … wish to remain anonymous?"

"I wish to be left alone," Snape growled. These old hags were trying to take some of his hard earned money! "I don't have time or means to make myself merry during this time of year, and I have no wish to encourage people to be idle and reap benefits from my hard work. People must take on their own responsibility."

The other woman, who had been mute for the duration, finally decided to speak up. "Many would rather die than go to Azkaban!"

"If they wish to die, let them," Severus rejoined with a sneer, "It will make room for all of the other miscreants deserving a spot there."

The ladies gasped in offence and Severus smirked slightly before scowling once again, "If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to work."

The brusque woman spoke up with a scowl to match his, "You ought to be ashamed for your selfishness! There are people who sacrificed their lives so their children could know what a life is without tyranny and fear."

Severus felt his blood boiling, "You wish to speak about sacrifice, madam?" he hissed, standing from behind his desk so quickly his chair fell. He stalked over to the women, who stepped back in fright at his snarl. He stopped a few feet from them and wrenched the sleeve of his arm up, baring the Dark Mark, then tore at the neck of his robes so they could see the large, ugly scar curving down his neck, left by Nagini, "I think twenty years is enough sacrifice, don't you?" He barred his teeth.

The women looked sufficiently cowed. Without speaking, they left, closing the door behind them. He turned to see a pale-faced Hermione Granger gripping the edge of her desk with white knuckles. "Get back to work," he barked, pulling his sleeve back down. There was nothing to be done for the collar of his robes until he was alone again, for there was no way he'd fix it in her presence. Let her be afraid. He didn't care.

He felt slightly gratified that he could put the ladies in their place, but their presumption still chaffed on his nerves, and he was more irritable than before.

It was almost an hour before they were interrupted again, this time unintentionally, from a student singing in the corridor outside. Severus, after stewing in his own temper, was not patient enough to deal with the student graciously. He charged to the door, once again knocking his chair down with a clatter, and tore it open, causing the student to squeak mid-line. He scowled blackly down at the first year, who looked ready to wet himself.

"Twenty points from Hufflepuff, Jorgenson, and don't let me catch you around here again until next year," he growled.

"Y-yes sir," The boy squeaked, before running back down the hallway. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply before turning back to his desk, slamming the door behind. He looked over at Granger, still working furiously at the student's essays.

"You'll want the day off tomorrow, I suspect," he barked, startling her.

"If it's convenient."

"It is not," he replied, "If I were to take away your pay for the day, you would feel cheated. As far as I'm concerned, you are taking away my day of pay," he sneered, "You may have it off. Dumbledore would probably come back from the dead and wring what's left of my neck if I forced you into anything not of holiday cheer tomorrow. Just make sure you're here all the earlier the next morning. We will have catching up to do."

Hermione nodded and followed him out the door, leaving him in the corridor by himself to lock up. He did, locking and dead bolting the door before putting a complicated layer of wards on it, making his office virtually impregnable.

He went to his rooms next door, where he ate a small meal brought by a summoned House-elf before curling in front of his meager fire with a book about unbreakable curses. He was startled with a jolt when, after thirty minutes of quiet reading, something fell over in a shadowed corner of the room. Wand automatically raised and a curse half out of his mouth, he turned to the corner. After a few seconds of silence to verify there was nothing alive there, he muttered, "Lumos."

There, in the corner, lying on its side was a very familiar cane.

"No," Severus muttered, rubbing his eyes. How the Hell had Lucius Malfoy's cane ended up in the corner of his study? He hadn't even thought of the man in years, let alone kept any memorabilia from their abysmal days as reluctant acquaintances. There was only one good thing that ever came out of their friendship, and that was his being Draco Malfoy's Godfather. With that position, he was able to successfully protect Draco from truly turning into a Death Eater, though it had been required of the boy to attain his own Dark Mark.

Severus scowled at the reminder of the supercilious crook. He'd always resent the man who invited him into the ranks of the Death Eaters, taking advantage of his need to feel included in something great. Lucius had seen Severus' ambition, genius and bitterness, and knew just how to turn it in his favor.

Severus summoned the cane, catching and looking it over with distaste before chucking it into the fire. The flames crackled as they slowly ate the polished dark wood, though the fire was not hot enough to melt the metal. Severus felt a bit of satisfaction as he watched a symbol of his past die in the flames. He looked around the spartanly decorated study in case there was any more memorabilia to add to the flames before re-checking his wards, changing into his grey nightshirt and sitting back down in his thread-bare chair to commence his reading.

It was not long before he felt a peculiar sensation. Severus was paranoid, and knew when eyes were watching him. He glowered.

"Peeves! If you're in here, don't think I'm not willing to fetch the Bloody Baron! Be gone!"

There was nothing in the silence but for the crackling of the flames, so Severus turned back to his reading, but the feeling of eyes on him didn't go away. He found himself rereading the same lines in his preoccupation, itching to pull out his wand, though there was obviously no one around to hex. Yes, since the war he'd still kept alert (some called it psychotically distrustful), but it had been a while since he was trigger happy, just about ready to blow up anything that made a sudden noise within ten feet of him.

The silver hounds head from Lucius' cane seemed to glint menacingly from within the fireplace. Severus scowled and looked away, once he realized he was staring at it. His gaze then landed on one of his bookshelves. Was one of them … wait, no, were all of them moving? Very subtle, but enough to be recognized, the books began to shake on the shelf, creating a low buzzing sound that gradually filled the room. Severus aimed his wand at it.

"PEEVES," he roared, as much as he could with a damaged throat. The books shook, undaunted. Some started to slip forward, going so far as to fall off, in a few cases. Severus hated the abuse of his books, but there was no way he was getting close to that shelf. Then it suddenly stopped and all was silent for a few seconds. Severus then heard a sound not ever heard within the walls of Hogwarts: the sound of someone apparating right behind him.

Shaken, Severus dared not turn around. It was late and his senses were tricking him with the lack of sleep and the added stress of the holiday. There was no possible way anyone could apparate within Hogwarts, and that was a printed fact (He had read Hogwarts, A History quite a few times).

"Come now, Severus," a voice rasped from behind, causing him to balk as all the blood drained from his face, "This is no way to treat your old friend."

There was no mistaking that voice, even hollow sounding as it was. Severus whipped around and sent a Reducto flying, though it didn't do much more than blast a hole in the wall separating his study from the potions classroom.

Lucius Malfoy chuckled menacingly as he rubbed over the spot the curse had gone through. "Didn't quite hit your target, did you Snape," The smirk he sported turned into grim stare. He stood still, allowing Severus to look him over.

Severus questioned his senses as he observed the mottled and bloody appearance of what was once his deceased and despised friend. He also noted the transparency. He couldn't meet the ghost's eyes, for the look that was there: hollow, grim, tortured. He still doubted. Wouldn't Malfoy have shown up sooner if he had decided to become a ghost once dead? Surely he would have heard something from Draco about it. Still, Severus was ever practical.

"What do you want with me," he barked out gruffly.

"Much," Lucius seemed to savor the word as it left his mouth.

"Who are you?"

The transparent blonde raised an eyebrow, "Do you have to ask?"

Severus scowled. There was no way he was going to be treated such a way by a figment of his own imagination.

Lucius seemed to read his thoughts. "Ah, I see that you don't believe in me."

"I don't."

"And why do you doubt my existence?"

It was now Severus' turn to raise an eyebrow, "considering what kind of world I live in, how could I not take any surreal thing to be a trick or spell of some sort, or possibly a symptom of my mind finally deteriorating from the stress it has gone through most of my miserable life." Severus' voice grew less tremulous as he spoke, his words more a way of distracting himself from the terror of reliving the life his had been while Lucius was alive than giving a logical explanation.

The apparition growled and advanced towards where Severus stood, and, in the process of backing away, his knees hit his chair and he sank onto the cushion, gripping the arms of it as if it were the last thread to his sanity. He would not stand for being plagued by ghosts like this in his own abode.

"For Merlin's sake man, what are you here for?" Though Severus tried to sound gruff, it came out more as a whine.

"Do you believe in me or not," Malfoy said sharply, leaning forward menacingly.

"Yes, but why should you be here to haunt me?"

"I have debts to pay-"

"Debts," Severus scoffed, "You, one of the wealthiest of the wizarding families, in debt? Ha!" Now Severus knew he was hallucinating. There was no way he could ever imagine Lucius being in debt.

"Wealthy! Money has no use when one is dead," Lucius continued grimly, "No, I have quite a few debts to be paid, laid on by my misspent life! I must see if I can right the wrongs I have committed in the past, too many to be thought of at once. And, oh, the regrets and self-castigation I go through every moment of it! It will be long before I am free of it, if I am ever free of it. Listen to me! My time is almost up."

"Speak, if you must."

"I am here to warn you, Severus, so that you might escape the fate I bear. Do not let the bitterness of your past color the rest of your life. If you cannot change you unwillingness to forgive, to embrace the new life given to you, you shall have a fate worse than mine. Oh, that I could have seen the error of my ways while still living!" Malfoy seemed distracted by his own remorse.

"So you are granting me a favor?" Severus smirked.

"You will be haunted by Three Spirits," Malfoy continued.

The smirk disappeared, "If that's your favor you can keep it to yourself. I've had a rather long night already, thank you very much!"

"If you do not accept this, you will be held accountable, just as I am. The first will appear as the bell tolls one, the second, tomorrow, at the same time, and the third the next day at the stroke of midnight. I must go now. Do not forget what I have said."

With that, the specter turned and popped back out of the room, leaving Severus in silence. He stayed still a few seconds more, not knowing what would happen were he to move from his chair. He looked around the room to see everything normal, as if nothing had ever happened, and he was quite convinced that nothing had, though the glinting of the hounds head in the dying fire proved to be a strong deterrent to that notion.

"Bonkers," Severus muttered to himself as he finally pulled himself up from the chair and headed towards his unadorned bed. It still could not stop the slight quaking of his hands as he pulled back the bedclothes and tucked himself in. He was asleep not long after.

Next: Severus meets with the first Spirit.