“Minerva, I need your help!”

“Severus?” the witch called as she walked to the floo in her niece’s house. “It’s Christmas Eve, lad, what do you need my help for?”

“Can you step over for a little bit? It’s about Harry.”

“Och, aye – give me ten and I’ll be right there,” she agreed. True to her word she stepped through the Floo connection into Severus’ sitting room ten minutes later.

“Well, Severus, this is wonderful!” she said as she surveyed the sitting room that had been transformed by a well-decorated Christmas tree that twinkled nearly as much as Dumbledore’s eyes, and other holiday decorations scattered around the room. “I haven’t seen these rooms this festive since Slughorn used to occupy them. The parties he used to throw…” she reminisced.

“Yes, yes, I remember them well, too. Minerva, I called you because I need your help in what to get Harry for Christmas! I want to get him something special, but I got no hints whatsoever from him when we were out shopping this afternoon. He was more interested in picking out presents for his friends. Can I get you some tea?” He finally remembered to ask his colleague as they sat on the settee.

“Thank you, Severus, a cuppa would be welcome,” she agreed as he conjured an old-fashioned china tea set and set to pour out. She let the hot beverage warm her up before she answered his question.

“Honestly, Severus, I don’t think you would need to get Harry anything. You’ve given so much this week, as it is: a new guardianship, a new home, an adult he can trust, new clothes…”

“Oh, that reminds me – I told him the clothes came from you as an early Christmas present, so don’t act surprised when he thanks you next week,” he stated, grinning cheekily at her.

“Severus Snape, you sneaky snake!” she chided, although the chortle at the end belied her sentiment.

“Why thank you, I resemble that comment!” He nodded at her. “So, you can see my predicament,” he continued. “What to get for Harry.”

“Well, I do have one idea…” she said thoughtfully.

“Divulge, you old tabby.” He received a slap on his knee for that comment, but she told him anyway.

****

“Harry? Harry, time to get up!” Severus called from the doorway. A tousled head appeared outside the bed-drapes, yawning widely. “It’s Christmas, don’t you want to open your presents? There are quite a number of them under the tree with your name on them…” A pyjamaed streak went by his waist faster than he could say Quidditch, and he turned around to find Harry crouched on the floor staring at the mound of colourful boxes under the fir tree.

They spent the next hour opening gifts, tasting the fudge that the Weasley’s had sent, rifling through the huge defense book Hermione had sent, which Severus had declared an excellent addition to Harry’s growing library. Mrs Weasley had sent another sweater, which Harry gleefully pulled on over his pyjama top before diving into the next box.

Severus had also received presents: an annual bottle of Ogden’s from Dumbledore, Shortbread from McGonagall, Filius always sent by a box of Goblin made treats that only he could obtain from his distant relations, and which Severus was secretly addicted to. Hagrid had sent by a box of his rock cakes – which he and Harry took one look at before vanishing – as well as a wooden divided box filled with rare potions ingredients from the magical denizens of the woods. This Severus set aside reverently after peering into the separate compartments.

Finally all the presents under the tree were opened and Severus Accio-ed one last package from his bedroom, which he handed to Harry.

“You didn’t need to get me anything…” Harry started, but Severus shushed him.

“I wanted to. Open it up, child.”

Harry slowly unwrapped the present, a silver box with a doe etched on top of it. Looking at his guardian for permission, he lifted the lid and gasped. Inside was a stack of photos – Muggle and Wizarding – of his mum. Some of them had a much younger Snape in them.

“Remember I told you I knew your mother before we ever came to Hogwarts? Well these are copies of the pictures I had of her from the time we were little, until we left school. I thought you would like to have them to add to your photo album.”

Harry stared into the box for a moment, too stunned to say anything – but his gratefulness pulsed along their bond, and Severus scarcely had a second to prepare himself before his lap was full of twelve-year old boy hugging him and thanking him over and over.

Severus knew he had found the right present for his first Christmas with his new adopted son and he hugged Harry back.

“You’re welcome, Son, you’re welcome,” he murmured into the messy hair. And the pulse of love at those words was enough for both of them.

Fin.