Life, Harry decided, just didn't get much better than this. He never had to see the Dursleys again, he had friends, a mystery to solve ... and best yet, he had Professor Snape. And while a good portion of the school would accuse him of being mad as a hatter for being happy about that last one, Harry didn't really care.

Snape was strict, and had high standards, and ... well, a bunch of things that a lot of people would find off-putting, like his tendency to snark and how intimidating he could be without half trying, and the fact he didn't seem to have an emotional state other than 'irritated'. But over the last three and a half months (it being mid-December), Harry had got to know the man during their weekend and weekday evening lessons. He'd learned to see under the tightly-controlled expressions a bit now, and as for the rest ... he found the constancy of Snape's quirks and personality reassuring. After dealing with the unpredictability of the Dursleys (well, beyond the knowledge that he would be viciously belittled and at some point in pain), the predictability of Snape's responses to things was immensely reassuring.

And having an adult that not only listened to him, but believed him ... that was a treasure beyond price. Harry hadn't said much more about his time with the Dursley's than he had the day Snape asked him to so they could get him away from the Dursleys, but sometimes something slipped out, and Snape never once called him a liar or anything like that. Actually, the look Snape got on his face whenever the Dursleys came up made Harry almost sorry for the Dursleys, if Snape ever went after them. Almost.

McGonagall was only a step or two behind Snape. Sometimes, when Harry was feeling especially sappy, he imagined that this was something like what a family was supposed to be, even if he could never quite think of Snape and McGonagall as his 'parents', even separately. Don't get him started on them being together. That one was nightmare inducing!

Which brought him to the only real fly in the ointment. Christmas was coming, and he wanted to get them (and Hagrid, Ron, the twins, and Hermione) something ... but he didn't have a clue as to what. It wasn't like he had any experience at all with Christmas shopping in the first place, was it?

Ron, the twins, and Hermione had been easy enough, at least, once he'd discovered owl-orders. He'd gotten Ron a Chudley Cannons hat, the twins some pranking supplies, and Hermione a book on advanced Transfiguration, as she was deeply fascinated with that particular subject, and much to Harry's amusement, had taken to pestering McGonagall for more information on a regular basis. McGonagall had seemed to be quite pleased to have someone so interested in her subject, and had been more than willing to include Hermione in the extra tutoring lessons Harry got. Hagrid had been a bit tougher, but Harry had finally settled on a set of plates (actually round platters, but hey, it worked) and oversized mugs that were Hagrid-sized teacups, since he'd seen that Hagrid's collection was rather mismatched.

But what on earth was he to get for Snape and McGonagall? He honestly hadn't a clue, except for that he wanted to avoid getting Snape potions-related things. That one was way too obvious, and probably something he saw a lot of. He'd gone through about half the catalogues available to no avail at this point, and was starting to get frustrated. With a sigh, he grabbed another catalogue and started to flip through it. Finally, on the second to last page, he spotted it. It couldn't be more perfect if he'd tried. With a grin, Harry immediately filled out an order and rolled it up, then started for the Owlery.

As he headed up there, he contemplated the mystery he, Hermione, and Ron were trying to unravel. What had that small package from vault 713 been? Who was after it, and why? Sometimes, Harry debated asking Snape about it, but it was fun trying to work it out on their own, even if trying to find Flamel was driving both him and Hermione bonkers. Especially when they both realized they'd heard or seen the name before. The question remained as to where and when. Ron was a bit less invested in the whole thing, but then again, he wasn't all that interested in extra studying.

Hedwig swooped down to him the moment he entered the owlery, and he spent a few minutes just petting her, much to her evident pleasure. Eventually, he gave her the order envelope. "Take this for me, girl? I finally figured out what to get McGonagall and Snape for Christmas."

She hooted her agreement and took off through one of the several arches in the owlery. Harry leaned against the ledge and watched her until she blended into some clouds near the horizon, and then headed back down to the common room.

HPHPHP

Severus eyed the letter he'd received that morning with a jaundiced look. Remus had finally fulfilled his working contract ... and would be arriving in two weeks, just days after Christmas. He'd be here sooner if it wasn't for the fact the full moon was next week, and he needed to be somewhere secure at least a day before the full moon. This wouldn't have been a problem for someone with sufficient funds, as you could purchase an international portkey from Remus' current location to England, but the wolf didn't have enough money for that, and would have to be taking the trip in shorter (and cheaper) hops. And even if Severus had been of a mind to fund the wolf's trip home, the wolf would not have permitted it. As much as Severus disliked (and felt greatly ill at ease with) the wolf, he had to admit the man was determined to make his own way and accept charity from none.

The upcoming holidays presented another challenge ... what to do with Harry. They could both stay here, which was his first preference, or they could go to the Manor for the holiday. Either way, if they stayed here, Severus fully intended to take full advantage of the dearth of students and increased free time to get to know Harry in a more relaxed setting than they'd had thus far, as they'd both been concentrating on his scholastic efforts for the most part. Well, he'd be seeing Harry in the morning, and that would be soon enough to enquire as to the boy's preference.

At least finding a gift for the boy had been simple enough. It generally was, at that age. Especially when the boy in question was quidditch-mad. A few tomes about the various teams, and one on tactics and moves had been an obvious choice. Given that, at some point in the next few weeks, the potion that Harry had been taking would finally be finished, and the boy would start to gain some height to go along with the badly-needed increase in weight that Harry had experienced over the last few months, new clothing with growth charms on them had been the next logical present, as Severus would be greatly surprised if Harry's current clothing fit him by the end of January.

His usual present for Minerva was already purchased, of course, as was the one for Filius. He and Filius were not nearly so close as he and Minerva, but Filius was one of those people that it was virtually impossible to get to hate you, unless you tried to kill him ... in which case, you deserved the complete and total humiliation you would get. There were days when Severus amused himself with contemplating who was the more frightening dueler ... Filius or Dumbledore. Oh, to be sure, Dumbledore had more sheer power, but Filius made up in sheer inventiveness what he lacked in power, compared to the Headmaster, and was considerably younger. At any rate, Severus had long since ceased attempting to get Filius to steer clear of him, and accepted the inevitability of the man's friendliness. Fortunately, Filius did not attempt to force the issue into actual friendship. Hagrid, of course, got his usual assortment of potions useful in healing injured wildlife.

Severus had debated for quite a while as to whether or not to get a gift for the Headmaster this year. As strained as their relationship had become, it was definitely a delicate issue. In the end, Severus had decided to go ahead and get something, as Dumbledore did seem to have taken Severus' warnings to heart.

HPHPHP

Harry practically bounced into Snape's office the next morning after breakfast, earning himself a faint, amused smile from the man. "Hello Professor!"

"You're in quite a good mood today, Harry. Getting into the Christmas spirit, I take it?" Snape asked.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I guess I am. First time I really get to take part in it, you know? Makes it a lot more fun."

And comments like that made Snape wonder if the wolf wouldn't be amenable to being introduced to the Dursleys ... during a full moon. Without the benefit of wolfsbane. And at the same time, made him vow to never tell the man any of it. Werewolves were notoriously protective of their 'pack' ... and Harry was the sole remaining member that Remus would want to lay claim to. His reaction to finding out about Harry's life would not be pleasant.

"We'll not be doing much actual work today, Harry." Snape told him. "As you may remember, it's nearing the time when the supplement potion should be able to be discontinued, so we've a trip to the infirmary to make. After that, we've a few things to talk about."

Harry nodded. "Ok. It's nothing serious, though, is it?"

"No, not at all." Snape said, then got to his feet from behind his desk. "Shall we?"

The two of them headed for the infirmary, which, much to Harry's relief, proved to be empty except for Madame Pomphrey.

"Hello, boys." She said.

Harry couldn't restrain a snicker at Snape being called a boy ... and the snicker turned into a full-on laugh when he spotted Snape's expression, which somehow conveyed irritation, exasperation and amusement all at the same time without, it seemed, moving so much as a muscle.

"Hop up, Harry, and we'll have a look at you." Pomphrey said, patting the nearest bed.

Harry obeyed, and Pomphrey ran her wand up and down him several times, and then smiled. "Well! You've responded to the supplement better than I thought. I think we can actually stop it now. You're pretty much caught up with your current height weight-wise as well, which is good. You'll probably start growing in the next week or two, as your body starts kicking everything back into action. Don't be surprised if you start rivaling young Mister Weasley in appetite over the next month or so."

Harry made a bit of a face. "And here I was thinking I'd get to stop thinking with my stomach." He complained.

"Harry, you're a growing boy. Thinking with your stomach is a requirement. I'll start worrying when you stop thinking with your stomach." Pomphrey told him. "Now, if you remember, I told you there were a few bones that had been broken and hadn't set right, yes?"

"Yeah, I remember. And you wanted to wait for Christmas break to deal with them, but didn't say much more than that."

Pomphrey sighed. "The procedure is not the most pleasant to deal with, Harry. I'd give you a potion to make you sleep and keep you that way for several hours. I'd then have to rebreak the bones and set them the way they should have been in the first place. You'd be here overnight for sure, possibly two nights."

Harry made another face and then looked over at Snape for a moment. "Well, the Professor said he wanted to talk to me about some stuff after this, but if it's going to be that ugly, I'd rather get it over with tonight, so I'm all healed up by Christmas for sure."

"That's fine, Harry." Pomphrey told him.

After that, Snape and Harry headed out, and back to the dungeons and Snape's office. Once there, Snape rested a hip on his desk rather than sit down behind it. "There are two things. One, we need to decide where you will be spending the holiday. You can either stay here, or go to Potter Manor. But before you make that decision, you need to know something else. One of your father's old friends is coming here. He'll be here on the twenty-seventh."

"A friend of my dad's? Who?" Harry wanted to know.

"Remus Lupin. He was quite close to your father, actually." Snape growled. "When your parents were killed, no one but Dumbledore, and apparently McGonagall knew where you'd been placed, and neither of them were telling." Aside from that less-than-happy comment, all those years ago that Snape still wished he'd listened to. "Denied the ability to watch over you, there was nothing to hold him here, and he left."

Harry eyed Snape quietly. He'd gotten to know the man well enough by now to ... hear what wasn't being said. There'd always been a tinge of bitterness in Snape's voice whenever James Potter had come up, and it had not escaped Harry's notice that Snape had left telling Harry about his Potter heritage to McGonagall. Snape sounded nearly as displeased to be discussing Lupin, and it was making Harry wonder what the heck had happened to piss Snape off so badly.

"Professor ... I ... can I ask a question?" Harry wanted to know.

"Of course." Snape said.

"Why do you always sound so grumpy whenever my father comes up in discussions?"

Well damn, Snape thought. The boy would pick up on that, wouldn't he. Ah well. "Your father and I did not get along, Harry. We were, in essence, the 'Harry and Draco' of our generation." Which was putting the mess in a far more positive light than it deserved. Harry and Malfoy at least had equal numbers on their sides ... and Harry didn't go out of his way to make Draco's life a living hell.

Harry grimaced. "I get the picture." He said. "And Lupin was a friend of his ... " Harry was beginning to draw parallels he didn't like.

Snape could see the growing distaste on Harry's face. You owe me for this, James Potter. "Do not judge them on their antics as children, Harry. Nor on the word of one man. James eventually grew up, else Lily would never have given him the time of day. And Gryffindor and Slytherin have always had a bitter rivalry." Snape told him.

Fair enough, Harry thought, though he was still inclined to think his father and his friend had been bullies. "All right. I'll give him a chance. So he'll be here a couple days after Christmas?"

"Yes." Snape confirmed.

It would be nice to spend the holiday at the Manor ... but it'd be, what, just him and the elves? Snape too, probably. And while Harry didn't mind the thought of spending time with the man, just the two of them in that big place over the holidays did not sound all that fun. "Maybe I should stay here, then."

Snape nodded. "Very well. You have the option of remaining in Gryffindor Tower with whatever Gryffindors remain for the holidays, or you may join me, in my quarters."

Harry did a double take. He'd never quite expected that one. Oh, he knew Snape was his guardian and suchlike, but there was a difference between them moving to the Manor come summer and Snape inviting Harry to spend Christmas in his quarters here at school. At least there was in his mind, anyway.

"I think I'd like that." He said finally. "Staying with you, I mean."

Snape was a bit surprised himself. He'd fully expected the boy to want to stay in the Tower with his housemates. "Very well. We'll pack a few of your things once you've recovered from Madame Pomphrey's treatment." He was just glad that Harry seemed to think Lupin was James' only friend. Eventually, Harry needed to be told, but telling an eleven year old that one of his father's best friends had betrayed him to his death wasn't something Snape was willing to do, even if he had been capable of saying Black's name without snarling in rage.

HPHPHP

The next twenty-four hours were, truly, best forgotten altogether. Pomphrey had warned Harry, but words didn't really do the matter justice. Despite the sleeping potion, he woke aching all over, and the aching didn't fade until shortly before dinner on Sunday. He actually ended up spending a second night in the Infirmary, mostly because he really didn't want to try to move some of his clothes and such when he had only just recovered.

With it being just over a week before the holidays, most of the classes were rather relaxed, and the atmosphere of the school was picking up. Monday evening, after classes, Harry packed up some clothes and pyjamas and put them in his bookbag to carry to the dungeons. Snape met him at his office, and the pair of them headed deeper into the dungeons. Finally, they came to a narrow, dead-end corridor that was guarded by a suit of armor. Snape marched right past it and to the end of the corridor, then tapped his wand in a couple of places, almost like he was trying to get into Diagon Alley. This time, though, instead of bricks sliding out of the way, the stone seemed to waver for a second, and then a door appeared. Snape murmured something under his breath, tapping the door again, and then looked over his shoulder at Harry. "The password is asphodel." He told Harry. The moment he said the word, the door popped open an inch, and Snape seized the handle and pulled the door wide and strode inside. Harry followed at his heels, looking around in interest.

One thing became very clear very quickly. Snape liked to read. The main room had floor-ro-ceiling bookshelves on two walls, crammed with books. There were also books scattered here and there in the room on every flat surface. The room was surprisingly plain. Not at all dank and dark as some of the Gryffindors liked to suppose, but all the furniture was rather simple and stark, a pair of chairs, each with a low table by them near a small fireplace, a dining table with two chairs against the one bare wall, with a roll-top desk crammed into the corner between the table and the nearest set of shelves. Unlike Snape's desk in his office, this one was a complete mess, bits of parchment, quills (one of them clearly broken, with a pool of ink beneath it), and a half dozen pots of varying colors of ink, one of which had been left open and was now probably no good. The only other decoration was a thick rug on the floor. Despite the scarcity of furniture, the room didn't feel at all unwelcoming, and, to Harry's surprise, it didn't scream Slytherin, either. The colors were mostly browns and creams, with a few hints of green and silver here and there, and most of it was book spines, which Snape couldn't possibly have demanded to be in his house colors.

"This way, Harry." Snape led him to the arch that sat on the other side of the dining table from the desk. Down this short corridor, there were five doors. Snape tapped the first one on the left. "This is my private lab. The door is warded and locked, as the potions I brew are frequently rather explosive if badly handled. I would ask you not to enter unless I give my permission. The same goes for my supply room." He tapped the door immediately across from the lab.

"Not a problem." Harry said, easily able (after a few months of Neville's difficulties with potions) to get a rather nasty mental picture of what might happen if he disturbed Snape at the wrong moment, or succeeded in breaking vials of ingredients (or worse, stored potions) all over himself.

"The door at the end leads to my room. The second door on the right is the loo, and this one is yours." Snape didn't bother telling Harry that his room had, at one time, been intended to be a storage cupboard for potions ingredients, given it was right next to a lab (these quarters had belonged to the Potions teacher since time immemorial). Snape's collection of ingredients, however, had rather quickly outstripped the room's capacity, and he'd moved it to the room across the hall, as that one did not lay on an outside wall, and he'd been able to convince the castle to expand the room. He'd had time enough while Harry was recovering to ensure that furniture was moved into the empty room ... a bed virtually identical to the one in Harry's dorm room, a desk, and a wardrobe for his clothing, as well as another thick rug ... all of it, again to Harry's surprise, in Gryffindor colors.

"It's great, Professor." Harry told him. And despite the simplicity, it really was. Certainly, it felt more welcoming than Dudley's second bedroom had.

"As we are going to be living together over the next few weeks, you may call me Severus if you would like. I would just ask you to remember to call me Professor around the other students." Snape told him.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Really?" And then he grinned. "Thanks P ... I mean, Severus." It felt rather odd to call Snape by his given name, and Harry had a feeling it'd be a while before he got into the habit ... which was probably just as well, considering he was still a professor!

The last week of school before the holidays passed in a flash. Of course, when the sign-up for staying at Hogwarts came around, Malfoy had to be an ass about getting to go home. Harry couldn't quite resist a comment.

"Oh, but I get to go home too." He said. And while Severus' place wasn't quite home, at least not in the sense Malfoy meant, it might as well be, and probably eventually would be, given a bit of time. "It's going to be brilliant!"

Of course, that confused the heck out of Ron and Hermione, and they pounced on him immediately after class.

"Harry, you can't go back there!" Hermione almost shrieked. "They're horrid people!"

"For once, I agree with Hermione, mate! You can't go back there!" Ron complained, starting to go red in the face. "Is the Headmaster ... " He started, but Harry decided to cut them off.

"Guys, guys, take it easy. I'm not going back to the Dursleys. And you're both nutters if you think I ever once thought of that place as home! Snape's letting me stay with him in his quarters over Christmas, is all."

That made Hermione smile. "Oh Harry, that's great! I mean, I know they say it's neat here over Christmas, but ... "

"You guys are both going, and I'd be more or less alone." Harry said. "Which wouldn't have been fun."

Of course, later, Ron and the twins got letters from their mother saying there'd been a change of plans, and the boys would be staying at Hogwarts after all. Harry almost changed his mind, then, about staying in Severus' quarters, but eventually decided to keep to the original plan.

Then it was Saturday morning, and the school was a madhouse of kids with trunks heading for the main doors and Hogsmeade, to go home for the holidays.

Shortly after they cleared out, most of the students that were staying behind got into a massive snowball fight, shrieking and laughing and chasing each other all over the grounds. Eventually, frozen to the bone and soaking wet, they traipsed back inside, running for their lives to evade Filch when Mrs. Norris showed up. Harry headed up to Gryffindor Tower long enough to change and dry off, then headed for the Great Hall.

While the students had been wreaking havok in the snow, most of the staff had begun to decorate the Great Hall in earnest. There were two trees in the room already, and Harry spotted Hagrid dragging in a third. Most of the staff seemed to be busy hanging things on the walls. McGonagall and Flitwick were both concentrating on the trees, working cooperatively to get them decorated. In fact, the only staff members Harry didn't see were Trelawney (who almost never came down), Filch and Severus. Hmm. Probably down in his quarters then ... or, no, wait ... Severus had told him he spent the first day of holiday marking papers so it was over and done with. So he'd be in his office. There'd been very little homework (aside from Potions, which he'd made sure he got done right away), so Harry decided to see if he could help decorate. He'd never gotten the chance to, before.

"Professors? Is there anything I can do to help?" He called as he walked over.

McGonagall and Flitwick both glanced over at him, and both smiled, though Flitwick added a bit of a bounce to it. "Certainly, Mr. Potter!" Flitwick squeaked. "These boxes here have the decorations. Do you by any chance know a sticking charm?"

Harry grimaced. "I'm afraid not, sir."

"Ahh, you'll pick it up in no time, Mr. Potter, from what I've seen of you in my class. You seem to have inherited your mother's gift with Charms." Flitwick told him.

That just made Harry grin hugely. "Really? You taught her?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter. The staff has not changed overmuch since your parent's time. I believe that only Professors Trelawney and Snape have been added since they graduated." Flitwick told him.

It was something that hadn't really occurred to Harry. Oh, he knew most of the staff was older, but it hadn't quite penetrated that most of them, therefore, had taught his parents when they'd been in school.

Flitwick showed him a low-level sticking charm (all that was needed to keep the ornaments on the tree), and very shortly Harry was floating ornaments onto the tree and sticking them into place. All the while, Flitwick and McGonagall regaled him with tales of his parents in the classroom. Lupin came up quite a bit too, but Harry noticed that there were hesitations, sometimes, like the two of them were editing things. It didn't really surprise him all that much. People (well, people other than the Dursleys) did tend to not want to speak ill of the dead, and it sounded like his dad especially had got up to a lot of mischief.

Eventually they got finished, at least for the day. A single big table had taken the place of the Head table and the four House tables. Severus swooped into the room just before everyone got settled at the table, looking somewhat out of place in his usual black against the increasingly festive Great Hall. Harry sat down beside him with a grin. "Professors Flitwick and McGonagall let me help decorate the trees!" He told Severus.

Severus nodded, the faint quirk at the edge of his mouth and the look in his eyes the only clue that he was amused at Harry's ebullience. "Did they indeed. I'm glad you had a good time. We'll be decorating our quarters tomorrow." Normally, Severus didn't decorate as he was never much for holiday spirit, but with Harry there, he would do at least a tree. A small tree. After all, there was the splendor of the Great Hall for decorations if Harry really wanted. At least Hagrid hadn't made a big deal of supplying him with the tree in question.

HPHPHP

The next few days proved to be interesting. Severus had half expected to be annoyed at having his much-prized privacy disturbed. Instead, he'd found the small noises Harry made just traipsing about rather soothing. Certainly, he was more than willing to play assistant, happily traipsing between the storeroom and the lab.

Over time, Severus had discovered that Harry did quite well in Potions ... he had a sure and steady hand, both for cutting and adding ingredients, and so long as no one attempted to sabotage his potion (which Malfoy did more than once, and got in trouble for every time), he could generally produce if not a perfect potion, then something quite close. Severus had been torn between amusement and outrage when he'd once asked Harry about it, and Harry said that potions was much like cooking.

Unfortunately, Harry did not seem interested in the trial-and-error that was inventing and improving potions, nor did he have the (for lack of a better word) spark that allowed a true Potions Master to make deductive leaps about ingredient combinations, stirring and temperature requirements. Still, he was a more than able assistant, and had been content to assist Severus in completing the last batch of wolfsbane.

Aside from that, they did a variety of things, like reading quietly side by side. Harry had rather quickly abandoned the second chair by the fire for a thick cushion on the floor, which had made Severus give an amused snort. Ahh, to be that young and flexible again! Then there'd been multiple trips outside for Harry to fly about on his school broom, usually with the Weasleys in tow. They also spent far more time in the Great Hall than was Severus' normal wont.

Christmas Eve found them once more on the pitch with the Weasley's again. Severus watched them from the ground, shaking his head at their aerial antics. At least there was a thick coating of snow on the ground to soften their landings if they fell. Then, suddenly, Severus felt something wet smack his shoulder. It took a moment for him to realize he'd just been hit by a snowball. He couldn't even begin to remember the last time a student had possessed the temerity to assault him with one. There was a frozen moment of silence before Severus whipped out his wand and started flinging snowballs at all four boys in retaliation. Of course, they felt honorbound to respond, and things quickly degenerated into an all-out snowball fight.

And if anyone had told Severus that he would someday find himself in a snowball fight with three Weasleys and a Potter, he'd have had them committed to St. Mungo's post-haste. At least he won, even if he only won because he (as the boys all averred) cheated.

"I did nothing of the sort. You were not obliged to throw by hand." Severus pointed out as they shook themselves free of snow in the stone courtyard.

"Yeah, but even if we had, you're older'n us!" Harry objected, grinning widely. "You know better spells."

Severus gave an amused snort when he heard one of the Weasleys mutter about sneaky Slytherins. "Then let that be a lesson to you, and be better prepared next time. Not that there will be a next time." He eyed the four of them, and they all nodded understanding. Acting undignified when there were so few witnesses was one thing. Having them try to haul him into something of the sort when the whole school was in attendance was quite another.

Harry slept in on Christmas day, but then, so did Severus. Eventually, the pair of them headed into the sitting room. Harry was more than a bit stunned at the sheer number of presents under the tree. Oh, he'd suspected that he'd get a few things, thanks to the Weasleys, Hermione, and Severus, but it seemed like he had nearly as many presents under the tree as Dudley's had on his last birthday! Considering that he'd been lucky in years past to get a single, unwrapped 'present', this was rather a bit overwhelming.

And what a haul it ended up being. He got some Bertie Botts beans from Ron, a box from the twins (which he made Severus scan for trouble before he opened) which held an array of prank products from Gambol and Japes, a thick woolen sweater and some really good fudge from, of all people, Mrs. Weasley, a hand-made flute from Hagrid and several books from Hermione. There was also a wand holster that could be attached to arm or leg from McGonagall, along with a book on house elves and one on ancient magical buildings. Severus got him more clothes (which he was going to need soon ... the ones he had were already getting a bit snug, thanks to the weight he'd put on), and some books on various Quidditch teams and strategies.

All the while he was unwrapping his own presents, he kept a careful eye on Severus, waiting to see what he thought of the present that Harry's finally found for him, as well as interested in what sorts of presents he got. The first thing he noticed is that Severus didn't have all that many gifts to open. There was a flat, thin present that had two bits of paper in it and nothing else, but Severus looked quite pleased with that, and when he set them aside, Harry was able to see that they were subscriptions, both of them for potions-related magazines or journals. There was a big box of what looked like potion ingredients (Harry recognized unicorn hair for sure, among everything else), which made Harry very glad he'd not gone that route. Another present held several books, and the last one (at least, the last of the ones that weren't his) held a good-sized brown bottle with no label that intrigued Harry a great deal. Whatever could that possibly be?

Severus seemed to be a bit surprised when he realized there was still one more present for him, and he picked it up somewhat gently, turning it several times before he glanced over at Harry, who promptly ducked his head, feeling unaccountably nervous and embarrassed. Fortunately, Severus decided to spare him and opened the wrappings. At first, it looked like another black over-robe, but then he turned it around, and saw that the collar, cuffs, and hem had highly detailed and extremely life-like emerald green snakes slithering in unending loops around silvery-gray ash branches. From a distance, it would look like it was green and silver piping. And now he'd had a better look, the robes themselves were of as high quality as the intricate design. This was definitely not something to be worn to classes, but would make a (for most people) startling change from his usual unrelieved black outside of classes.

"Thank you, Harry. It's quite handsome." He told Harry.

Harry beamed hugely. "Oh, good! I hoped you'd like it. I didn't know what to get you at first. Just glad I didn't go with my first ideas." He motioned towards the books and potions ingredients. "Then I saw some robes in the back of a catalogue, two for each of the Houses, one which was mostly one of the House colors with the other used for the House animal, and one which was black with the House animal done in both House colors on them. I got McGonagall the colorful Gryffindor one."

Which would, Severus had no doubt, please her to no end. "You chose quite well." He said, then pulled a final, squashy package from the far side of his chair. "I have one final gift for you, but this one comes with some restrictions, which I'll explain after you've opened it."

Harry took the present and opened it, then looked in confusion at the watery, silvery gray cloak that puddled in his lap. "A cloak?"

"Not just any cloak, Harry. An invisibility cloak. It belonged to your father. He'd left it in the Headmaster's care before the attack, and the Headmaster gave it to me to return to you."

"And the restrictions?" Harry asked.

Severus smiled. "Exploring the castle is more or less a rite of passage, Harry, and I won't deny you the opportunity to do so. But if I catch you using the cloak for malicious purposes, or if I catch you trying to go into the Forbidden Forest or off the grounds with it, you'll be in quite a lot of trouble, and I'll confiscate the cloak until I'm more sure you can be trusted with it."

"I won't misuse it! I promise!" Harry said. He grinned as he stroked the cloth, then folded it back up and put it with the pile of clothing Severus had gotten him.