The weather in December had turned bitterly cold. The wind howled outside, and snowflakes once again swirled past the windows, striking the frozen panes. The surface of the Black Lake was long since sealed under thick ice, gleaming with a cold, steely sheen.
Christmas was fast approaching. Hagrid's massive figure was once again bustling about the Great Hall, huffing and puffing as he hauled in twelve freshly cut Christmas trees all by himself.
The stair railings were wrapped in green holly and shimmering tinsel; enchanted candles flickered inside the helmets of the suits of armor; and bundles upon bundles of mistletoe hung from the corridors at regular intervals, swaying gently like little bells in the draft.
"Old Snotty didn't invite you to his Christmas party?" Abbott asked, his face full of mock surprise.
They were trudging across the vegetable patch, their boots crunching over the frozen soil as they made their way toward the greenhouse.
Abbott turned his head as he walked, glancing at Snape with a teasing grin. "Looks like he's finally realized your evil nature."
"Indeed," Snape said contentedly. "So I've decided to spend the whole day with you, and drag you down into the airtight abyss with me."
"No-!" Abbott exaggeratedly widened his eyes, waving his hands in protest. "You know I've already got plans!"
"That's fine. I don't mind," Snape replied cheerfully. "I'll just sit nearby and stare at you the whole time."
Abbott gave Snape a look of disgust, snorted softly, and quickened his pace.
After a week of roaring gales, the wind had finally died down today. But the strange, heavy fog had returned, forcing them to spend much longer than usual fumbling through the mist before finally finding the greenhouse for their lesson.
"I'm serious," Abbott said in a low voice, "are you really planning to spend Christmas alone?"
They were now gathered around the gnarled stump of a Knotted Vine, preparing to put on protective gloves. It was part of their Herbology coursework this term.
While slipping on his gloves, Abbott jerked his chin toward Pandora, who was standing a few feet away, fastening her anti-tree sap mask with deep concentration.
"I'll be sure to invite her to keep you both company," Snape said through the muffled sound of his own mask.
"I swear I'll make sure you never find me that day, ow, !" Abbott grumbled, but in his haste to put on his protective goggles, he lost grip of the strap, and the goggles snapped back sharply, smacking him right in the eye socket.
"Careful, mate," Snape said in mock sympathy with a long sigh. "Madam Pomfrey can't fix a completely ruined eyeball. If you lose it, you'll have to get a magical replacement-"
"No more talking!" came Professor Sprout's sudden, sharp voice. She was striding briskly between the worktables, her expression stern. "You're behind, everyone else has already started! Pandora's already got one of the pods!"
They turned their heads, and sure enough, Pandora was sitting there, a trickle of blood running from her lip and several scratches across one cheek, looking rather frightening.
Yet she seemed utterly fascinated, staring at the writhing little object in her hands, a disgusting pod, about the size of a grapefruit, squirming and twitching as she held it.
"All right, Professor, we're on it!"
Abbott waited until Sprout turned away, then muttered to Snape in a low voice, "I take back what I said earlier. If you two really spend an entire Christmas together, I'm afraid next time I'll be greeting what's left of you, quietly lying in a wooden box, in several neat pieces."
"Enough, hurry up... we'd better get this over with," Snape said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "And don't forget, my defensive charms are already better than Professor Grubbly-Plank's."
They both took deep breaths and dove in toward the gnarled stump in the center of the table.
The stump reacted like a monster abruptly awakened from slumber, long, spiked vines shot up violently from the top, whipping through the air with a sharp whooshing sound.
One of the vines caught in Abbott's hair, and Snape quickly used a pair of pruning shears to hack it away.
Abbott managed to seize two of the tendrils, twisting them together and tying them in a knot.
Amid the writhing tentacle-like branches, a small hollow finally became visible. Snape seized the opportunity, plunging his arm into the opening, only for it to snap shut like a mousetrap around his elbow.
Abbott immediately threw himself into pulling and twisting at the vines until the hole opened again. Snape yanked his arm free, clutching in his hand a pod identical to the one Pandora had found.
Instantly, all the vines retreated, and the knotted stump lay still and lifeless once more, looking like nothing more than a dried, dead log.
"Cough-" Abbott nearly choked on his own breath and had to cough a few times before recovering. "How did she do that by herself? That's terrifying."
"Good question," Snape said, eyeing the wriggling, pale-green pod in his hand with distaste. "I've always wondered how her experiments actually work.
"It makes no sense. She can even make sage more vicious than a biting cabbage..."
"Don't dawdle! Get that juice extracted while it's fresh, it's best quality then!" Professor Sprout's voice rang out again as she hurried between the worktables, urging the students on.
"I've never seen..." Abbott continued their interrupted conversation, pressing the pod between both hands with all his might, trying to squeeze its thick juice into a bowl. "I've never seen any wizard or witch manage things the way she does, though she honestly scares me sometimes."
"If you'd seen more like her, wouldn't that be even scarier?"
Snape flipped open A Complete Guide to Carnivorous Plants, scanning for the proper way to extract the juice from a Knotted Vine pod.
"Stop wasting time and look at this. We're supposed to pierce them with something sharp."
"Hand me that, Sev," Abbott said, reaching for the pruning shears Snape passed over. "Oh, by the way, I heard after the holidays, we'll be taking Apparition lessons from a Ministry instructor. You interested?"
"Of course. I can't wait for the time to fly by," Snape said with eager anticipation. "I'll turn seventeen on January ninth."
"I'm March," Abbott said, setting down the pod. "So we'll both be eligible for the training."
"Brilliant! Once we learn-" Abbott snapped his fingers to mimic vanishing, grinning brightly, ", we'll be able to go anywhere we like on Hogsmeade weekends."
"Yeah," Snape said, lost in thought, "and by then, our Trace will finally disappear..."