Of all the Christmas presents that Severus had expected, finding a shuddering child in the Potions storage cupboard was not one of them. He decided, with a scowl at the boy, that he much preferred the bottle of Scotch from Minerva. Severus's fingers closed around the bottle of dried Mandrake roots and he was tempted to take the jar and shut the door.

With a sniffle, the boy wiped his nose on a ratty gray sleeve. The boy looked up at him then, and Severus dropped the jar of Mandrake roots in shock.

The Boy Who Lived, with teary green eyes and prominent scar, was in Severus's storage cupboard in a sodden, germ-ridden little huddle. At the spatter of glass shards on the floor, the boy cringed back into the cupboard, squeezing his eyes shut. There was a whoosh and the broken glass reassembled itself into a jar, the pieces melding together, seamless and perfect.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Potter said, repeating the words like a talisman.

With a discreet Scourgify to kill the worst of Potter's germs, Severus knelt down to pick up the jar. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't know," Potter said, wiping his nose on his sleeve again. He looked up at Severus, wide-eyed.

"Don't play the innocent with me, boy. How did you get here?"

Potter offered Severus a little trinket, a glass phoenix on a chain - Severus recognized it as an Order medallion at a glance.

"Where did you get that?"

"I'm sorry I touched it and I'm sorry I didn't finish cleaning the attic and I'm sorry I hid in your cupboard, sir, and I'm sorry I didn't finish cooking the dinner and I'm sorry about the jar falling, sir, I really am," Potter said in one big rush.

Severus scowled at him. "Pretty apologies will not get you anywhere, Mr. Potter. Now, get out of there so that I can take you to the Headmaster."

Potter wrapped his arms around his knees. "Can I?"

"If you mean to ask whether you are capable of wasting my time and making me escort you to the Headmaster, yes, you are. Now get out of there."

Tears welled up in Potter's eyes. "I'm not allowed out of the cupboard on Christmas."

Losing all patience with the boy's sob story, Severus reached down and grasped him by the arm, pulling him out of the cupboard.

-----

Albus, cheerful and infuriating as usual, refused to come to Severus's aid. "Well, Severus, I can hardly take him to Surrey now. I'm expected at my granddaughter's and I simply couldn't miss her excellent plum pudding. Surely it won't hurt you to watch over the boy for a few days."

"Christmas is a time for family, Albus, as you always remind me. Let Potter spend it with his family."

"So they can shut him up in a cupboard, Severus? I don't think that's very festive, do you?"

Severus deposited Potter in front of the sofa and ordered him to sit, and then stalked off to order Christmas dinner for two from the house elves. He poured himself a generous glass of the whiskey that Minerva had given him, and nearly dropped it when he turned back to find Potter sitting on the floor.

Severus took a gulp of his whiskey and glared at the boy. "Sit on the sofa, boy, not on the floor," Severus said.

Severus glared at him until he sat on the sofa, glared at him until he ate his dinner, glared at him while he fidgeted.

"Sir?" Potter asked, poking at the mashed potatoes with his fork.

"What is it?"

"Are we - where are we, sir? Is that - what you did earlier, was that magic? Is magic real, sir?"

"Finish eating your potatoes and don't ask absurd questions. Of course magic is real."

Pouring another whiskey, Severus decided to be generous and transfigured the sofa into a bed for Potter. He blinked when Potter thanked him, green eyes shining, and proclaimed it the best Christmas present that he'd ever had.

By the fire, with a book open on his lap, Severus watched Potter sleep. The boy looked thin and pale, curled up into a tiny ball as though he wasn't accustomed to having so much space.

Those Muggles had very inappropriate ideas about child rearing, keeping a boy in a cupboard. Perhaps it would be best if the Boy Who Lived was brought up in the wizarding world ... he'd be better prepared for Hogwarts, after all, if he actually knew that magic existed.

Severus took the package that Albus had given him - his always-predictable gift of lemon drops - and set it by Potter's bed. "Merry Christmas," he whispered, and then he extinguished the fire with a flick of his wand.