Harry awoke late the next morning. His conversation with his Head of House the night before had been much on his mind, but his resolve to end the quarrel with Snape had eased his heart considerably.

Now all I have to do is get up the courage to apologize to the scary Bat.

He dressed quickly, noting that Ron was already gone, and hurried down to the Great Hall, hoping he hadn't missed breakfast. Percy had told him that the house elves always served Belgian waffles on Christmas Eve morning, and he prayed that there were still some left.

When he arrived in the Hall he was relieved to discover that he had not missed out on the waffles. He was doubly glad to see that Snape wasn't present. . . he wasn't quite ready to face the man just yet. He supposed the Potions Professor had already eaten and left.

Harry scrambled in next to Ron and piled his plate high, digging into the waffles with great delight. He had never actually eaten Belgian waffles before - he had made them a few times for the Dursley's for special occasions, but of course he wasn't allowed to eat such an extravagant treat himself. The waffles proved to be light and sweet, and Harry decided they were quite possibly the best thing he had ever tasted. . .perhaps even better than treacle tarts.

It was well past eight, and there were few diners left in the Hall - only Ron and a few older students, and Professors Sprout and McGonagall. Harry waved happily at McGonagall at the end of the large table and she smiled warmly at him.

"You seem to be enjoying your waffles, Mr. Potter," she called lightly, smiling at his eagerness.

"They're brilliant!" Harry gushed, after hastily gulping down a rather large mouthful.

"Indeed. They are one of the Headmaster's favorites, you know," she confided merrily. "You can be sure he will have them served tomorrow morning as well - along with many more special treats."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. Christmas dinner will be especially tasty. Every year the elves outdo themselves to provide new delicacies, as well as the standard Christmas fare."

"Wow!" Harry squeaked excitedly.

Harry stared at her as if she had just handed him the moon. She suppressed a laugh at the look of sheer awe on the child's face. As the boy turned his attention back to his plate, Sprout leaned over and murmured quietly.

"It's nice to watch how excited the children become at Christmas, isn't it? Especially the younger ones. They still possess that innocent wonder that allows them to take so much joy in little pleasures." She sighed. "It's a pity we adults forget such simple enjoyment."

"Yes it is," Minerva agreed ruefully.

"Young Potter there, for example," Sprout grinned. "He looks as if he's taken a Bliss Potion . . .all over a few waffles, mind." She chuckled. "You should have seen him the other night, Minerva. He sat down here for hours, watching Flitwick decorate the trees. Just sat on the floor staring, as if he'd never seen anything so wondrous. Then when Flitwick asked him if he'd like to help place the stars on top, I thought the lad was going to cry! When Flitwick levitated him to place the stars, Harry's face glowed brighter than the ornaments."

"Really?" Minerva smiled, wishing she had been there to see Harry so happy. She would have to thank Flitwick for his kindness to the boy.

"It's odd, really," Sprout continued offhandedly. "Potter's reactions, I mean. They're almost too excessive. . .at times he seems overwhelmed by even the most ordinary of holiday traditions. It's as if the boy had never celebrated Christmas before."

Minerva frowned. "Well, Harry was raised by Muggles. . . he's never experienced a wizarding Christmas. I suppose it's all quite new to him."

"I suppose," Sprout shrugged indifferently. "I can't imagine the holidays without magic. . . I feel sorry for the Muggles."

"Hmmm," Minerva glanced down the table at Harry. The boy had slowed his eager devouring of his breakfast and was eating at a more reasonable pace. He chatted happily with Weasley between bites, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed with pleasure. Minerva had to agree with Sprout. The boy was squirming in his seat, brimming with childish merriment. She was reminded again of how small he was. His size and his energy made him seem much younger than his years. She found herself wondering if the boy was always so keyed up at holidays, or if it was merely the enchantment of Hogwarts that excited him so.

She finished her tea thoughtfully and rose, pausing by the First Years as she left the table. "I understand that Hagrid has arranged a sleigh-ride around the lake this morning, for those of you who are interested."

"Brilliant!" Weasley chirped happily.

Harry grinned, then his face fell abruptly. "I can't go," he said quietly. He gave Minerva a meaningful glance from under his bangs. "There's something I need to take care of first."

Minerva nodded in approval. "I believe now might be a good time to attend to that, Harry." Then she smiled encouragingly. "You should have time to take care of that responsibility and still make the sleigh ride. I'll ask Hagrid to wait for you, if you like."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said shyly. He pushed his plate away and rose a bit nervously. Ron threw him a questioning look but Harry only shrugged.

Minerva escorted him out of the Great Hall and gave him a tiny push towards the stairs. "It will be fine - trust me," she murmured kindly. Harry still looked doubtful, but he squared his shoulders and started down the stairs.

He had only reached the first lower landing when he heard footsteps below him. He glanced down the next flight of stairs with some dread. As he feared, a tall, imposing figure swept up the stairs towards him. He paused uneasily and stared at his feet. He took a deep breath and before he could exhale, the dark figure was upon him.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Snape stared down at Harry, more than a little unnerved. He had been planning to search out the boy later and speak to him. . . but he hadn't expected to find him here, on the dungeon stairs. He cleared his throat, stalling for a moment to regain his composure.

"Mr. Potter," he said bluntly.

"Good morning, Professor," the boy replied, his voice quavering a bit. He took a visible breath and raised his head to meet Snape's impassive stare. "Sir. . .I. . .I was just on my way to see you."

"Indeed?" Snape noted the slight shaking in the child's hands.

"Yes, sir. I want to apologize. . ."

"No." Snape cut him off brusquely, then winced at the stunned sadness on the boy's face. He glanced around warily.

This is not a conversation I want overheard.

"Come with me, Potter," he ordered quietly. Leading the nervous boy down the stairs, he guided him into the first empty classroom away from his office and Slytherin territory. He closed the door and cast a silencing charm, then turned to the boy. He immediately regretted causing the apprehensive look on Harry's face, and he attempted to soften the scowl on his own.

Come on, Severus. You can do this. If you can face bowing and scraping to the bloody Dark Lord, you can apologize to one small boy! Swallow your pride for once and just do it.

"I interrupted you because you need not apologize, Potter," he began. "No!" he raised a hand to stay the boy's attempted protest. "You do not owe me an apology, Mr. Potter. I owe one to you."

Harry looked so shocked that Snape wondered if he was going to faint.

"I was unreasonably demanding and unfair to you during our last tutoring session," Severus said stiffly, struggling internally with the unfamiliar and embarrassing words. "You did not earn such severe condemnation from me, nor did you deserve my insults. I apologize for my harshness."

There now, that wasn't so hard, was it? I hope it didn't sound as awkward as it felt.

Harry gaped at him, stammering in astonishment. "But. . .uh . . I. . .uh. . . ."

"Articulate as usual, Mr. Potter," Severus smirked, but his tone was amused and lacked any scorn.

"But. . .but I yelled at you," Harry exclaimed guiltily.

"You did," Severus agreed gravely. "And I do not sanction such blatant disrespect for your teachers. However, in this case you were provoked, and as such, are not to blame."

The boy gaped some more, plainly flustered. It was clear he had no idea what to make of his Professor's apology. "I. . . I don't know what to say, sir," he admitted timidly.

"It is customary, when offered an apology, to indicate whether or not that apology is accepted." Severus suggested primly.

"Oh!" Harry blinked. "Of course, sir. I mean, I accept your apology, sir. " A sudden flash of determination lit the boy's face. "But only if you'll accept mine, Professor. I shouldn't have yelled at you or slammed the door - no matter how angry I was. I'm really sorry."

Severus nodded, hoping that the swell of pride and affection he felt at the boy's gallant confession did not show on his face. "Very well, Mr. Potter. I accept your apology." He almost smiled at the child's obvious relief.

"Does this mean you're not angry at me anymore?" the boy asked hopefully.

"No, Potter," Severus replied, an unfamiliar gentleness warming his voice. "I'm not angry."

"Then. . . could we... I mean, may I come back to study again, sometime?" Harry peered up at him shyly.

"That would be acceptable," Severus sighed an inner breath of relief. "We may resume our sessions after the holiday, on the same schedule, if you wish."

"I'd like that," the boy said with a tentative smile. "I've missed them."

Uncertain how to respond, Severus shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. . . well. . . I think you'd best run along, Mr. Potter. I believe there are some entertainments planned for the remaining students. I'm sure you'll wish to be included." He canceled the silencing charm and ushered the boy into the hallway. As Harry turned to go, Severus voiced an impulsive thought.

"Mr. Potter, if you need assistance with your homework during the holiday break, you may come see me after Christmas."

Harry turned and smiled up at him, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Thanks, Professor. Most of the teachers didn't give us any, but. . .I do have this one essay - maybe you could help me with it? My Professor in that class is very strict."

It took all of Severus' control to refrain from returning the boy's cocky smirk. Cheeky brat.

"I have no doubt, Mr. Potter, that your Professor's sternness is necessary to keep you in line," he growled without rancor.

"Oh yes, sir," Harry agreed impishly. "I'd be in constant trouble, otherwise."

"Go outside and get some fresh air, Mr. Potter," Severus sniffed haughtily. "I fear this stuffy dungeon air is making you irrational." He turned and stalked away, ignoring the boy's smothered giggle.

"Goodbye, Professor!" Harry called as he raced noisily up the stairs.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Severus muttered distractedly, flinching at the thundering clatter of the boy's retreating feet. He went to his lab to finish the next stage of a potion he was researching. He reasoned he should have enough time after, to make a quick trip into Hogsmeade before lunch. . .the stationer's shop there should have what he wanted.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

As it turned out, Professor McGonagall didn't need to delay the sleigh-ride. Most of the students who signed up for the ride were still hurrying to their dorms for their cloaks when Harry came running up the dungeon stairs. Minerva cast him a quizzical look, and Harry skipped over to her.

"All right, Mr. Potter?" she asked quietly.

"All right, M'am," he nodded happily. "Everything's fine now," he whispered. "We both apologized."

"Did you indeed?" Minerva wondered if she heard that correctly.

Both apologized? Severus Snape apologized? To a Student? I must have misunderstood.

"Good." She gave the boy a distracted nod and shooed him towards the stairs. "Run up to your dorm, now, and put on something warm. It's quite cold out this morning." She glanced up at an approaching student. "Mr. Newbury! Have you lost your senses, child? That cloak is much too light! Go change it at once!" The chastised student blushed and hurried away. "And put on a jumper!" Minerva bellowed after him testily. "Hurry up, Mr. Potter!" she admonished.

Ron waved at him from the doorway. "Hurry up, Harry! I'll save you a seat!"

Harry raced up to the Tower to change for the sleigh-ride, his heart overflowing with contentment. This was turning out to be the best Christmas ever! Now that Snape wasn't mad at him anymore, he could relax and just enjoy it all.

He pondered the grim Professor's unexpected apology while pulling on Dudley's old navy jumper. (It was too large, of course, and worn a little thin, but it was the warmest one he had. It should be okay with his school cloak over it, he decided.)

I certainly never thought I would ever hear Snape say he's sorry about anything. He wasn't even snarky about it, and he didn't yell once!

Mystified, Harry threw on his cloak and grabbed his Gryffindor muffler. Then he raced back down to meet the others gathering in the castle entrance.

Maybe Snape missed our sessions too. Maybe he likes me just a little.

With this unlikely but happy thought, Harry wriggled his way through the small knot of chattering children to join Ron, eagerly awaiting Hagrid's arrival at the front of the line.