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Bellatrix was on a mission. It wasn’t the most valiant of missions, fine, but who could knock the pursuit of true love?
Because surely that’s what this was. Surely he felt the same.
She adjusted the top of her corset, trying to push up her boobs as best she could. Dark Lord or not, even he couldn’t possibly miss these, could he?
Bellatrix brushed a curl over her face— what man didn’t like the little added mystery of a hidden forehead?— and shook the nerves out of her hands. She was going to rock this fucking party.
Lucius Malfoy, meanwhile, scowled at his reflection in the bathroom. This was absolutely ridiculous. Having his wand taken away was one thing, but this was a step too far. The outrage and degradation of it simply blew his Muggle-hating-hair-bleach-loving mind. No matter how many times he swatted at the stupid white ball of cotton hanging off his hat, it kept stubbornly falling back into place between his eyes.
And that was nothing compared to the discomfort he was experiencing from the rest of the outfit.
The vest was passable. Lucius was nothing if not fashionable, and he couldn’t deny the effect of the red vest lines with white fluff. He wished he’d spent more time between hating Weasleys and corrupting his son actually toning his now visible torso, but this would have to do.
The pants were just ridiculous. Short enough to leave most of his thighs revealed and tight enough to show off a disappointingly flat arse, they left him filling chilly. A breeze ran through the bathroom and sent goosebumps down his very exposed legs.
Sexy Santa? Really?
He wasn’t sure if there was supposed to be some sort of compliment attached to the role assignment, or if the entire shebang was one massive joke. He half expected to walk out into the party only to be greeted with flashing camera lights and the derisive laughter of his peers. But surely it’d be real, right? Who else could have played Sexy Santa?
Well, Severus, of course. But Severus had been assigned eggnog.
Speaking of which, Severus had just arrived at the party himself. He strolled in with ease, levitating a bowl of freshly concocted eggnog with a very special kick. It’d taken him hours to prepare.
With just some milk, cream, sugar, and eggs combined with a dash of a special potion of his own invention, a sprinkle of love, and a shit-ton of Firewhisky, his eggnog was ready to knock the socks and Dark Marks right off those crazy killers.
There was a lot residing on the outcome of this party. The fate of many in attendance, truly, depended on this very night to make some big and important changes in their lives. Dear Bella had a potential shot at true love, if she went about her seduction methods properly. Lucius Malfoy’s life was at stake. And Severus— with his trusty eggnog at his side— had a chance to free himself from the clutches of a madwoman.
Of course, they didn’t know what was really about to transpire that evening. How could they?
How could anyone really have predicted what was about to go down that fateful night? This would be an event for the history books, one all future generations of wizards and witches would have to listen to that old Binns guy prattle on about one day while they struggled to stay awake.
Bellatrix pushed through the front doors of Malfoy Manor— the venue of choice for His Sexiness His Dark Lordship. It had been properly and festively decorated with some lovely holly, an assortment of Christmas snow globes, and a few stuffed rats wearing Santa costumes.
You know, Death Eater things.
Bellatrix gave her top one last tug and turned for the ballroom. Like the front of the Manor, it’d been covered in Christmas accents and trinkets that perfectly fit the Big Boss Man’s preferences. Ornaments floated about the room, mostly of snakes, skulls, pentagrams (“wrong cult symbol, idiot! Avada Kedavra!”), and other seasonal things that Brian had acquired to please his Dark Christmas Lord. Of course, Brian now lay dead on the floor, so… Merry Christmas Brian.
( mmm, the first soul of the evening )
The boss had never been very patient. Once, a Death Eater named Manfred made the mistake of calling him Tommy Boy in jest. Manfred was promptly yeeted into a deep pit containing nothing more than a chained Hungarian Horntail.
No one talks about Manfred these days.
And that wasn’t even close to as bad as the time this one fellow who tried to feed the Dark Lord marmite.
In spite of his faults— nobody’s perfect, okay?— Bellatrix was still feeling rather determined to win the affections of her superior. If a slutty Santa outfit and a heaping dose of love potion she’d blackmailed Severus into brewing for her weren’t going to make the Dark Lord fall for her, nothing would.
Speaking of said blackmail, Severus had quite the agenda of his own this particular evening, and getting out of Bellatrix’s clutches was a big part of it. She knew too much. She’d seen too much. He’d bloody told Karkaroff to close the damned door the other night. He did not need Bellatrix Lestrange to hold that night over his head forever.
Severus looked forward to watching her and the others succumb to the effects of his special eggnog.
As he made His way into the party, he was greeted by curt nods and evil leers. The Death Eaters were in especially high spirits that evening!
A long table along the border of the dance floor held an assortment of dinners, snacks, and desserts. Severus delicately placed his bowl of ‘nog right in the middle, on a raised platform for maximum visibility. Everyone needed to try this concoction of his.
( yes, souls, consume the ‘nog )
As he finished setting out some glassware and a ladle, who should saunter up to him but the very woman responsible for pushing him to invent his special eggnog. She stood beside him, in her revealing red and white outfit, but kept herself facing the table, refusing to actually look at him.
“Severus.”
“Bella,” Severus drawled. “You’re looking especially scary this evening. New haircut?”
Her wand hand twitched. Not yet, she told herself. The Dark Lord wants him alive.
( I don’t. I want him dead, and the Dark Lord, too, all of you )
“Severus,” said stiffly. “You’re looking particularly greasy. Bathing in fryers again, are we?”
He rolled his eyes. “Always so much of the same with you. Honestly, there’s not a creative bone in your body.”
That was enough foreplay. “Where is it, Severus?”
“Where’s what?”
“ You know, ” she growled. He was enjoying this too much. Didn’t he realize what sort of information she could spill at her pleasure now? “Keep this up and I won’t be feeling very motivated to keep up my side of our little bargain.”
His sneer slipped into a deep glower. “Fine.” He pulled a small vial out of his sleeve. After a discreet glance to ensure no one was watching, he slipped Bellatrix the vial. “Dump that into his serving of eggnog later and he’s all yours.” He didn’t bother to mention to her that the vial in fact contained nothing more than water.
This eggnog will already make you both mine without a love potion, he thought with a smirk.
( ah but the ‘nog will truly make you all mine )
Bellatrix tucked the potion into her cleavage before pouring to cups of eggnog. She could see the boss across the way— this would be a perfect moment to bring him his drink.
She wasn’t the only thirsty one there. Death Eaters flocked to the Sev’s Special Nog like Millennials to an electrical outlet. After his Poppin’ Pumpkin Punch a couple months before for Halloween, people were beyond ecstatic to see what else he could pull off. The man had a special gift for specialty beverages.
It really is a shame that Hogwarts doesn’t offer a home economics class.
Severus dutily filled each of their cups, handing them out timely yet delicately. He didn’t want to waste even a drop of his masterpiece.
The crowd of thirsty murderers dispersed, returning to their positions around the ballroom. Mostly, they engaged in polite yet awkward chit-chat and commented on how tasteful the decorations were.
Bellatrix uncapped the vial Severus had given her and subtly dropped its contents into one of the cups of eggnog. She swirled it around gently, pleased that the colour of the drink remained the same.
There he was.
Lord Voldemort stood before a group of followers, engaging them with a thrilling tale of the time he killed that one guy because he was a Muggle, not because he wouldn’t give the Dark Lord a passing grade in his art class. Bellatrix drooled as she admired the cruel smirk across his face and the way the nose slits in his face really captured the shadows of the room.
He looked positively evil, and fuck did she want to lick ketchup off his torso.
Just before she could reach the back of the crowd and prepare to intimidate her way through the lot of them with little more than a bitchy tut and a slight tilt of the head, someone crashed into her.
“Oof!”
Thankfully, didn’t spell the eggnog beyond a few drops spilling over the rims of the glasses.
Though they didn’t see him, Severus winced at a sudden jolt of pain. Someone spilled, he knew.
“Watch it,” Lucius snapped. Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. He hadn’t dared to talk to her that way in a long time.
“What’s up your ass?” Bellatrix taunted. “Although— hang on— those pants are tight enough that I might actually be able to see for myself.”
“Fuck off,” Lucius muttered darkly as she cackled at his vest-and-briefs combination from hell. “I didn’t get a say in this.”
“I know,” she replied gleefully. “I was there when he decided on you for Santa.”
Lucius scowled. “I’m not surprised.”
“Is it drafty?” she smirked, her eyes drifting meaningfully down to his exposed thighs.
He nodded at her chest. “You tell me.”
Bellatrix fixed him with a scalding glare. “Don’t test me, Lucius. Cissy isn’t here tonight to keep me from cursing your bollocks off. And they’re quite accessible tonight.”
Lucius flushed indignantly. He opened his mouth to retort, but evidently seemed to think better of it. Before Bellatrix could get an extra last word in, he snatched one of the glasses from her hand— the one intended for the Dark Lord— and took a swig.
Bellatrix glowered, reaching for her wand. That does it—
“Ah, Bella.”
She froze. He’d spotted her. She couldn’t very well kill Lucius Malfoy with him looking. How would she blame it on one of her coworkers if the boss himself caught her in the act?
“My lord,” she plastered on an adoring look and curtsied deeply. I can do this with or without that bloody potion.
“Ah, and Lucius,” Lord Voldemort smirked at the scarcely dressed man. “You look even more festive than I’d imagined.”
Bella huffed slightly, craving her lord’s attention. “I brought you some eggnog,” she said, hastily offering him her own glass. “Severus made it.”
“Ooo,” Voldemort took the glass. “I’ve been rather eager to try this, actually. His Halloween punch put me in such a fun and murdery mood.”
Lucius scoffed. “It was okay. ” He shoved his unfinished cup back into Bellatrix’s hand. “My Lord, if you’ll excuse me.”
“I trust you’re off to find the Santa seat,” The Dark Lord said coolly. “Wormtail put it together.”
“Great,” Lucius seethed through gritted teeth. “I can’t wait.”
“Oh I bet. It’s made of the softest stone, I’m sure it’ll be freezing against your arse.”
Lucius scowled deeply, but bit back any sort of biting retort. He wasn’t itching to be killed this particular evening.
( ha ha the fool has no idea )
Bellatrix, giddy to be left alone with the boss, took a nervous swig of the eggnog Lucius had handed back to her. She glanced down at it in surprise. That did taste good.
The Dark Lord sipped at his ‘nog as well. “Wonderful,” he murmured. “I ought to congratulate Severus for this… personally .”
Bellatrix scowled deeply. She didn’t spend all day on her look just to be passed up for the human personification of old engine oil.
But before she could say anything, something strange happened. Something in her was changing. She could feel it. It felt like someone had taken hold of her ears and began to just tug and tug .
She cried out and reached up to investigate. Lord Voldemort was gaping at her like she’d grown a tit on her forehead, but before she could ask him what was wrong, she reached the top of her ears. Her now very much pointed ears. And wait a second, was everyone in the room suddenly getting taller?
What the actual f-
Across the party floor, Lucius trudged toward the “throne” they’d built for their Sexy Santa. It was legitimately nothing more than a chair of stone, maybe slightly bigger than a dining chair. In any case, the stone paired with the draft that blew through the manor was not going to make this a pleasant experience.
He sat down and winced at the cold, but before he could really start to bitch about it aloud, something started to happen to him.
He felt something pull on his ears, like they were stretching out. And was it his imagination, or was he starting to shrink? He glanced around desperately and was almost sort of relieved to find that he wasn’t the only one.
All around him, Death Eaters were growing pointed ears and shrinking in height. Each looked more confused than the last, and some in their panic started whipping out their wands and demanding answers from each other.
“WHAT IS THIS?”
“WHAT’S HAPPENING?”
“ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?”
“ME?”
“WELL IT OBVIOUSLY WASN’T ME, I’VE BEEN IN THE BATHROOM ALL EVENING PRACTICING FOR KARAOKE!”
As the shouts and accusations grew, Lucius continued to survey the party floor, frantically looking for an explanation.
( yes, fools, shout, let the chaos reign )
His eyes eventually landed on Severus Snape, who was watching the pandemonium from the corner with a pleased smirk.
Lucius narrowed his eyes and started forward, ready to lay into the bastard for whatever the hell he’d done to the eggnog to turn them all into elves.
He only made it about halfway across the way before someone stopped him.
“Did you have something to do with this?” screamed some Death Eater who’s name escaped Lucius.
“Why the hell would I have?” Lucius demanded. “I turned into an elf too!”
“To drag us all with you into some elf cult, then!” the man cried dramatically, his wand raised.
“I have no interest in elf cults!” Lucius snapped, his own wand raised in defense.
( yes yes yes )
The unnamed Death Eater huffed. “Who, then?” he asked, lowering his wand.
( no no NO )
Lucius groaned, covering his ears. “What-?” he looked around, but it was only the confused man before him within a close enough distance to have yelled so loudly.
Who the hell just yelled “no” then?
( FINISH HIM )
Lucius cringed in pain again as the voice echoed through his head. “Bloody FINE THEN! Avada Kedavra! ”
Unnamed henchman dropped to the floor, dead.
That was when the true turmoil broke out.
It turns out that only one new death was needed to send this group of Death Eater Elves into a frenzy. Bodies were flying, some were crying, and others were brawling across the floor like Muggles. Lucius briefly caught a glance of the Dark Lord shooting off curses at them all while Bellatrix waved her arms about desperately from beside him, apparently still wanting elf!Voldy to give her some damned loving.
Lucius fired off more killing spells of his own, avoiding some as he ran for the exit.
Unfortunately, before he could get there, he slipped in a puddle of dropped eggnog and fell backwards, his head slamming against the floor.
He was only just conscious enough to let out a small whimper of pain before the other rioting elves trampled him to death.
Bellatrix, meanwhile, still just really wanted to get laid. “My lord,” she tried, though the man in question was a little too busy giddy slaughtering his workers to really pay her any attention. “Perhaps you and I could find somewhere a little quieter to sha—”
“BELLATRIX!” The Dark Lord snapped. “I’m having the time of my life here, if you hadn’t noticed. “Begone, woman.”
(oh hell no, you don’t diss my girl Bella like that)
The Dark Lord looked around for a source of the voice that’d spoken in his head. “What is this, legilimency?” He demanded.
(not quite)
And then, beneath Voldemort’s feet, a sinkhole opened up abruptly. Bellatrix gasped as the Dark Lord fell into its depths, his scream slowly fading as he fell into the dark hole of empty nothingness.
Bellatrix scrambled away from the sinkhole as it continued to expand, drawing more beings and objects into its midst. A table fell in, and then some Death Eaters, and then— Merlin, was that a reindeer? When did that get in here?
Chaos continued to fall upon what was supposed to be a typical Death Eaters Christmas Party. Bellatrix ran from the sinkhole, stumbling in her stilettos, and wondered how they’d gotten here. And even more importantly, why had someone taken out the Dark Lord? Sure, he’d been a little rude to her, but really people just didn’t understand him, she could have fixed him, she could have—
(oh lady, you’re hopeless)
“Huh?” Bellatrix frowned, looking around.
BAM!!!
Her head exploded into Christmas coloured confetti.
Those who were around let out horrified screams as her body dropped, and pieces of red, green, and white paper gently sprinkled down from the air and coated the floor in a new seasonal decoration.
The killings continued, and those who had the chance at escape were brought down by some sort of random, unforeseen occurrences. It was like some sort of dark presence loomed over the party, keen on taking them all out. It was too brutal to have been the Aurors, really, but also too over the top and outlandish to have been one of their own.
In any case, soon no one remained alive, and the party was evidently over.
Severus emerged from where he’d taken cover behind a corner and surveyed the scene. Bodies lay strewn about. Ornaments were in disarray and broken across the floor. Someone had lit a table on fire, and the flames were slowly creeping toward a curtain.
The manor would fall, he was certain. Corpse after corpse lay in puddles of dropped eggnog, while the ballroom began to stink of smoke and something like vomit.
A chair that’d been teetering on the edge of the sinkhole finally tipped and fell inside.
“I can’t say I quite expected that.”
Severus whirled around, his wand raised at—
“S-Santa?” Severus tilted his head in confusion.
The bearded figure before him chuckled deeply. “Sevvy, my boy. It’s been a while. I haven’t seen you since you made the nice list when you were four years old!”
Severus was a loss for words. The man before him was definitely dressed like Santa. He had the red coat, the belly, the beard, and the hat. But was Santa supposed to have those glowing red eyes? And why didn’t his mouth open when he spoke?
“Confused?” Santa asked, a pitying smile in place.
“I—” Severus broke off, again too perplexed to speak.
“I figured you would be, ” Santa nodded. “ See, I’m here to collect names off the Naughty List.”
“But… I thought those on the Naughty List got coal, ” Severus protested.
“They used to, ” Santa agreed. “ But I felt gets quite old doesn’t it? I really wanted to switch things up, rebrand a little. Plus, after getting my first taste of human souls in my belly after this wild night last year—”
“What?”
“—I decided to make it a thing. Consuming souls, that is. So I put the idea of a special eggnog in your head, played around with everyone here for the evening, and here we are!”
Severus pondered Santa’s words. “So… you were responsible for the eggnog?”
“Just the idea. That execution was all you, baby. I have to say, it went much more violently than I’d imagined, but I was really pleased with how things played out. Turning them into ‘Santa’s elves,’ what a classic.”
“Alright,” Severus drawled slowly. He was starting to understand… sort of. “But what about me? Does this mean I’m finally not on the Naughty List? After all these years?”
Santa smiled warmly at Severus. “Oh, by dear boy. Of course you’re still on the Naughty List.”
And then, Santa’s red eyes began to glow brighter. His body shook violently and his stomach burst from his red coat. Buttons went flying and there was a sharp rip as the fabric tore away.
The massive belly opened up to reveal a massive mouth, with layers upon layers of jagged, sharp teeth.
Severus didn’t even have time to scream as the belly-mouth opened wide and shot forward, lightning fast, chomping him down whole.
Returning back to his normal, jolly form, Santa looked around the room with a satisfied smile.
Merry Christmas to all. And to all a good night.