It was much later that night that Dobby crept up into the Gryffindor dormitories to collect Harry’s friends’ presents. Harry had left them all in a large pile near the foot of his bed and Dobby had no trouble at all sorting them out and sending them off to their destinations. One last, careful look around the room, however, revealed a present that Dobby hadn’t seen before.

Picking it up and smoothing the parchment, Dobby saw that it was for Professor Snape. Dobby paused for a moment then took the present down to the kitchens with him. He deposited the present Harry had wrapped for him in his usual sleeping place, then wrapped Professor Snape’s present and charmed the letter smooth.

Dobby thought for a moment more and decided that he had best deliver this one himself. Professor Snape didn’t like it when things just appeared in his rooms, though they had all been instructed not to tell anyone else that. With a nod of his head and a snap of his fingers, Dobby apparated to the dungeon quarters Professor Snape kept. He looked about for a place to put the present so that it would be seen when he realized that the wizard was not in his rooms, but had got no further than glancing about the living room when the portrait door swung open and in strode the professor himself.

The wizard had his wand out and was glancing sharply about the room when his eyes landed on Dobby. “What are you doing in here, elf?” he demanded.

“Dobby begs your pardon, Professor sir, Dobby was just delivering this present,” he held the gift up in both hands.

“A present? From whom?” Snape asked sharply.

“From Harry Potter sir, Professor sir.”

“Harry?” Severus asked in a low voice before crossing the room in a few quick strides to take the parcel. He glanced at the letter and ascertained that it was indeed Harry’s handwriting before turning back to the elf.

“I have a gift for Harry as well. If I allow you to deliver it, will you speak of it to no one?”

“Dobby will not even tell Winky or Professor Dumbledore sir!” Dobby declared.

Severus raised one eyebrow but nodded in acceptance. “See that you don’t,” he commanded, handing a slightly larger package to the elf. “Here. Place this one at the bottom of the pile.”

“Dobby will see to it, Professor Snape sir!” Half a moment later the cheerful elf had gone in a puff of smoke, leaving Severus to sink down on the couch. He had wanted nothing more than to wash up and pour himself into bed, but he found himself very curious about what Harry might have sent him. Considering the circumstances, he told himself, it was probably some sort of practical joke.

Severus attempted to ignore how much that thought hurt, and the faint echo in the back of his mind that said like father like son, and opened the letter. The ink was slightly smudged in some places, as though it had been tossed away, but the parchment itself was smooth. Filing that thought away, Severus settled in to read the note.

I was trying to figure out how to address this letter because ‘dear Professor Snape’ sounded all wrong, and it got me thinking about everything that has happened in the last months.

When Sirius died, I was so sure that it was partly your fault because you had goaded him about not being useful. I think I hated you for that. I knew that you hated me too, so I reckoned it made us even. But I hated myself even more, for being stupid and putting Sirius in a position where he would be in danger.

That’s why I was so surprised when I ended up spending the summer at your house. I know you didn’t want me there at first. To be fair, I didn’t want to be there. So when you let me stay in the blue room I was so shocked I could hardly speak. Honestly, I think it made me hate you even more. At first.

How could you be so kind when you loathed me? How could you do something my own relatives never managed? Especially when you had a far better reason for your dislike?

And then, somehow, everything changed. We didn’t hate each other anymore. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to be able to talk to you. In a way, it’s like having a godfather again, only better because we’re not separated the way Sirius and I were. This has been one of the best terms and summers I’ve ever had. In fact, I think going to stay at your house was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Thank You,

Harry

It was a good thing, Severus reflected, that he was sitting down. Harry’s letter completely took his breath away. Clearly, Harry had written this before the end of term. Severus had known that they were getting on quite well, but he had not realized that Harry’s feelings were quite so deep. It sent a fresh stab of pain through his heart.

Suddenly, an idea took place in his mind. He nearly dismissed it at once, but decided that as he didn’t have any better ideas, he might as well try this one. What he wanted was to reconcile with Harry. It was probably impossible, but he had to try. If he found out that he could not do it, well, at least he would have given Harry another adult who knew about the situation but hadn’t contributed to it.

Striding quickly over to his desk, Severus drew out a piece of parchment and a quill and bottle of ink. Lupin, he penned. I do not know whether you have heard or not, but I find that I have once again made a grievous mistake in trying to protect Harry…

Severus rubbed tiredly at his forehead when he at last sat back with a sigh. He had sent his missive off to the werewolf in the Order way. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t Order business, but it was the fastest and most secure way of passing the information on, and he didn’t dare take a chance on having his owl intercepted.

Severus glanced tiredly up at the clock to see that it had become so late that it was now actually early. With another sigh he levered himself out of the chair and stumbled into the bath to take a long, hot shower and then drink enough tea to see him through breakfast. After breakfast he could come back and collapse into bed, he promised himself. He just needed to get through a few more hours.

The next morning Harry woke earlier than usual. He sprang up with a grin and looked at the foot of his bed. There, a large mound of presents stood waiting for him. Even after six years, Harry was still occasionally somewhat startled when he saw gifts addressed to him.

Harry excitedly settled into a smooth pattern of glancing at the tag and unwrapping the gift. All of his friends had sent him something, even Luna, who he had also tentatively picked out a present for. He had finished all the rest and was not expecting any more when he noticed that there was still one present left to be opened.

Who could this be from? There was no tag that he could see. Harry tore off the paper and discovered two books. One was on Quidditch, the other on potions. Harry glanced over at the book Hermione had given him, just to make certain he hadn’t been mistaken somehow, but no, the potions text Hermione from Hermione sat at his side.

Warily, Harry picked up the potions book. There was writing on the flyleaf inside. Suspiciously familiar handwriting.

Harry, it read,

I hope you will find this book useful in your studies. I am nearly certain that you won’t make a career of potions, as I have; nevertheless I think that this book will give you important insights into the nature of potions and their making. I also had a copy of this particular tome given to me while I was a student, and I found it to be of immeasurable worth.

The notes on the margins are mine and my mentor’s. I have copied all of them from my copy into yours.

If you don’t want such scribblings to encumber you, there is a relatively simple erasing spell which I am certain that Miss Granger knows and would be happy to teach you.

The last sentence looked to be written at a later time than the first part, and the handwriting was a little jerkier and more resembling some of the angrier notes Harry had seen on past potions essays. Curious despite his reawakened anger and the hint of hot shame twisting through his gut, Harry turned to the Quidditch manual.

It too had an inscription: No young man can spend all his time working, and I certainly have no wish to see you try. I hope that you enjoy this and that it is as useful to you in its own way as the other.

Harry just stared at the books, blinking slowly. Perhaps, just perhaps, he ought to see if Dobby would mind sending Snape’s present to him. It was only fair, considering that the other wizard had clearly spent some time and money on him.

Just the chocolate though, Harry was not sending that note. If Snape had lied about some things, he more than likely had lied about the rest, too.

Dutifully, Harry got up and walked across the room, looking for the candy he had tossed the day before. He didn’t see it. He checked the whole room, even under the beds, but still could not find any sign of his planned gift. Finally Harry sighed and headed for the shower. He’d ask Dobby later. Perhaps the house elves had taken it when they cleaned up. He just hoped that they had burned that note…perhaps he would ask Dobby to do that, too. In the meantime, however, he really needed some breakfast.

Remus stumbled into his rooms, tripped over his worn coffee table, and collapsed face-down onto his makeshift couch.

What a night!

The Order had been on alert full time since the first attacks. Severus had been able to tell them that there would be more raids, but not when or where. Right now, Remus was weary from watching, guarding, and tonight, fighting. All he wanted was a nice cup of tea and a two day nap.

He wouldn’t take one, of course, or at least, not a nap that long. The full moon was in a week and a half, and he had lots of work to do before then. It struck him as amusing that he was almost looking forward to his monthly torment, if only so he could get a break. The humor was bitter, though.

Lying around was not going to brew tea, though, so he wearily pushed himself up and trudged over to his little kitchenette. On the way he noticed that he had received a letter. He picked it up and saw that it was from Severus, sent in the Usual Way. The usual way for Order work, anyway. Remus dropped it on the table. He refused to know what else was wrong with the world until he had a cup of tea in his hands to fortify himself.

A few minutes later he seated himself at the table, drink in hand, and picked up Severus’s missive. He got no further than the first sentence when he wanted to thunk his head down in exasperation. Once again, Severus had managed to alienate Harry. But why was he writing an old rival from school and not Dumbledore?

Oh, because Dumbledore seemed to be nearly as much at fault. For a long moment Remus wondered why he was getting this news from Severus, instead of from Harry. His tired brain was too slow to puzzle out the reasons, though, and he decided instead to get a bit of sleep before answering the letter or sending one to Severus addressed to ‘the idiotic git who can’t maintain a normal relationship for more than a week or two without botching it completely’. He somehow doubted that Severus would respond favorably to that.

On the other hand, indignation might push Harry back to Severus…no, wait, Harry would probably agree at this point if he knew anything about James’s son. Besides, either way, Harry would have to see it, which was highly unlikely.

No doubt about it, Remus thought to himself as he levered up out of the chair and crossed to the bed, he definitely needed a little sleep before he wrote anything.

Harry was sitting outside when an owl swooped up to him, deposited its letter, and then flew toward the owlery. He looked the envelope over cautiously, not relaxing until he saw Remus Lupin’s handwriting on the front.

Dear Harry,

First of all I should like to thank you for the lovely gift you sent me. A scarf is exactly what I needed, and I have always thought that red and gold were the warmest color combination. Also, I am sorry to say, my old Gryffindor scarf was getting rather the worse for wear.

I am surprised that I did not hear this from you, but I understand that you are having troubles with a boggart. The one in the green dress, again? If so, you have a number of options open to you. The question is, do you want to be rid of it for good, or not? You could shove it off into an unused corner, for instance, or you could keep it closer at hand. I have heard of some people even keeping boggarts in their living rooms.

It is all a matter of what you want.

Unfortunately, I cannot give you realistically useful advice until I know your feelings on the matter. If you wish, however, I can come out and have a look myself.

Happy Christmas,

Remus.

Harry stared at the letter, willing it to make sense. What was all this nonsense about a boggart? In a green dress…wait a minute, back in third year; Neville’s boggart had ended up wearing a green dress. Everyone had laughed at the sight of their least favorite teacher so costumed. So, the letter was in code.

Eagerly, Harry bent his attention toward the parchment and read the note again. Ah! Someone had told Remus that he, Harry, was having troubles with Snape again. There were only two people who could have done that, and right now, Harry wasn’t sure which one was more likely, or which he would rather it was. This required some thought.

What did he want? His gut reaction said to get rid of Snape permanently, but, some part of him was reluctant. Harry gazed out over the lake again, deep in thought.

Harry was frozen through by the time he went back into the castle. He had tentatively decided how to respond to Remus’s letter, and he knew that if he didn’t show up to dinner, McGonagall would kill him. To his surprise, the scent of hot food as he entered the Great Hall roused in him an interest in the meal that had previously sounded completely unenticing. Then too, the trees looked glorious and Harry thought he spied scattered crackers along the single table that was laid. Perhaps, just for now, Harry could forget his troubles for a little while. After all, it was Christmas.