Snape was dead: to begin with. No, not that Snape, his father. Severus was indeed alive and well. Alive and spreading doom and gloom about Hogwarts as was his want around Christmas. For he had forgotten how to live a full life when the last person he loved had died. Lily had been his saving grace until that unfortunate incident that caused him to lose his temper and attack her with his vicious tongue, calling her that appalling name. She had forgiven him but the forgiveness had come too late and he had fallen into the dark one’s snare.

This Christmas was shaping up to be the worst since that horrible night when Lily had given her life for her son, the same son that was now ensconced within the castle walls and was currently serving detention. The same son that was every bit his father and nothing of his mother save his eyes, the deep emerald green that had held so much warmth on his mother’s face, now looked at him with scorn and loathing.

“Hurry up Potter I have better things to do that stay here all night while you take your time scrubbing cauldrons,” Snape snarled not even looking up from the parchment he was writing scathing comments on in red ink. 

Potter – Harry – was a small for his age, eleven year old boy, with messy black hair and green eyes that were hidden by black, circular frames. If Snape had looked into those eyes at an unguarded moment he would have seen that they were full of sadness, pain and despair. He hadn’t had and never would for he could not see the lost little boy that was Lily’s son, only the arrogant, spoilt brat that was Potter’s spawn.

The Potions Master knew that the boy was being raised by his Muggle relatives, and knowing that there was no way Lily would have allowed the harridan known as Petunia to raise her son, the boy must be living with his mother’s parents Henry and Rose Evans. They had adored their fiery, red haired daughter and no doubt would dote on her only child.

Harry had scrubbed the last cauldron ten minutes earlier and was waiting for his professor to look up so that he could tell him. The child feared the man as he feared all adults. Adults meant pain of some sort. Though most of them here were ‘kind’ if that was what he could call it. He wasn’t sure because he had never really known kindness.  Snape was not kind, he snarled, scowled and snapped. He treated him as his relatives did with scorn and ridicule but he didn’t raise his fists as they did.

“I’ve finished Sir,” Harry said respectfully as the last thing he wanted was a detention over the holidays. He already had Snape’s homework to do. The greasy git, as his friend Ron liked to call the Potions Master, had been the only professor to assign them any.

Harry stood back as his teacher approached. He watched silently as the man inspected his work looking for a fault. The boy knew that he wouldn’t find any gunk or marks on the cauldrons; he had even cleaned the sink. His aunt had taught him well even if it was at the business end of a wooden spoon.

Severus Snape frowned as he inspected the cauldrons, the benches where they had been stacked and the sink. Potter had indeed finished. Everything was spotless. He knew for a fact that the child had not used magic. The sheer volume was staggering. There had been enough botched potion encrusted cauldrons for three detentions. Even the seventh years didn’t wash anywhere near as much.

“Get out of here. Perhaps you will put the remainder of your time to good use and produce a readable, passable essay for me,” the older wizard snarled.

“Yes professor,” Harry said as he moved to the nearest table to retrieve his robes and put them on. He made his way to the door and as he opened it he turned to face Snape who was still standing near the sink, “Good night Professor Snape, sleep well.”

Snape never replied. Lost in his thoughts he returned to his desk and his marking quill.

The clock ticked and time moved forward but Severus Snape took no notice. He was lost in a world of red ink and scathing comments, so lost that he didn’t notice the erethral glow at first. As it got brighter odd noises began to fill the room – moaning, lamenting and was that empty glass bottles rattling?

Slowly the Potions Master lowered his quill and raised his head. He expected to see Peeves, Hogwarts resident poltergeist, or one of the other ghosts that frequently haunted the castle. He could not help the look of shock at what he saw. Tobias Snape, his long dead father, floated there. About his person and trailing behind him were long heavy chains and empty glass bottles of various shapes and sizes. Severus recognised them as ones that his father frequently drank alcohol from. The adornments creaked, clanked and clinked as the spectre swayed.

“What are you doing here?” Severus demanded, “You were a Muggle you can’t be a ghost here.”

“I was chosed to visit ya once. Penance I guess,” his father’s spirit spoke.

“Why?”

“T’ warn ya.”

“You were chosen to warn me. Why would the powers that be send you? You were spiteful and hateful towards me. You drank away whatever money you earnt and beat Mum and I every chance you got until she died. Then it was just me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m ere to make sure ya don’ do the same.”

“In case you have not noticed, Father, I have steady employment and I do not drink to excess. Nor do I beat women and children.”

“Tha’s true lad but ya’re mean spirited and cold. Ya blind to those who don’ meet ya ‘pectations. Ya’ll end up like me if you don’ change Sev.”

“Being a ghost is hardly a deterrent Father.”

“These chains,” Tobias lamented, “These await ya but yer’s are heavier, longer. I only took me frustrations out on ya and yer Ma; ya take it out on the kids here and some of the growed ups.”

“I’ll take my chances. You can leave now.”

“Ya’ll be shod of me soon enough. There’ll be three other visits this night. P’raps one of ‘em can make ya see reason.”

“Tell them not to bother. I have no time for such things and I am happy the way I am.”

Tobias Snape shook his head and sighed before moving off and leaving his son to his marking.

The Potions Master watched the ghost leave shaking his head as he did so. He mentally catalogued all the potions that had been brewed that day in an attempt to ascertain whether he had been exposed to a hallucinogen. He cast revealing spells over his quill and ink even the students’ homework was scanned. He found nothing.

He summoned a house elf and ordered a pot of tea before resuming his marking. Once again he immersed himself in his work and he would have stayed that way if a sharp tongue hadn’t called him out of it, “Severus Augustus Snape,” his head shot up and he was looking at none other than Eileen Prince Snape his mother and she was not happy, “I’m speaking to you young man and you will pay attention,” she scolded.

Severus sat up straight, “Y-yes Mum.”

“Cap your ink then you and I are going on a little trip.”

The professor hurried to do what his mother wanted. Soon he was by her side. Whatever powers were at work enabled her to take a corporeal form and he was shocked when she grasped his hand.

Soon he found himself standing outside a building he knew only too well – the family home on Spinner’s End. It was as he remembered it from when he was a child. His mother had managed to coax a few flowers from the tired soil that were now frozen in the snow. The door and window frames still had some colour to them but the paint was cracked and peeling. Dingy lace curtains could be seen behind the dirty glass panes. There was a holly wreath on the door that Severus and his mother had made after picking the prickly foliage and its inedible fruit.

They passed through the front door and into the dimly lit hall. To the immediate right was the living room, also dimly lit by candles. They were only allowed to use the gas for cooking and heating the hot water for bathing as Mr. Snape refused to pay for more than they absolutely needed. In one corner there stood a ‘tree’. It was a branch off one of the dead trees out the back. They had decorated it with foil milk bottle tops and paper chains made from old newspapers. An angel made from cardboard and paper sat on top. There they found a younger Severus unwrapping the few presents he had received that year. It was mostly clothing that his mother had managed to put away some money for without Snape’s father Tobias finding it.

As they watched Eileen entered the room and walked over to her son. Young Severus stood up and hugged her thanking her for the gifts. “You’re welcome, love. Best get ‘em put away ‘for Toby gets up,” Eileen said gently.

The boy gathered everything and quietly made his way upstairs. He knew better than to wake his father when he had been drinking the night before. Thankfully he made it back to his mother without incident. Mrs. Snape ushered him into the kitchen. There he found a sumptuous breakfast of pancakes topped with ham and melted cheese. He hugged his mother again and hastened to the table. It wasn’t a lot but it was a far cry from the usual porridge.

Mother and son left the scene as Tobias’ heavy footsteps were heard overhead.

Severus found himself standing in the snow outside a gaily lit and wreathed house. His eyes took in the surrounding houses and he noticed they were all decorated. Although it was morning it was still quite dark. 

The pair entered the house. Severus withdrew his wand to cast lumos but Eileen bought up the light with a wave of her hand. The inside was decorated as well. Red and green tinsel wound its way along the bannister to the first floor. Sprigs of holly adorned the many pictures the lined the walls or the entrance way and the hall. Severus saw that everyone featured a chubby, blonde in various stages of baby, toddler and early childhood. Some of the pictures also an obese man obviously the father and a skinny horse faced woman, “Petunia,” he spat.

‘It figured that Tunney would insist on her brat hanging on the wall. Potter’s must be in the sitting room where they can be seen all the time,’ Snape thought.

With a gentle hand Eileen guided her son into the family room. A tree that was taller than Severus by at least a foot dominated the room. It was beautifully decorated with what appeared to be hand blown glass ornaments. A multitude of fairy light flashed rainbows of colours through and off the decorations. Around it was a massive pile of presents. The professor could not believe how spoilt Potter was. No doubt there were some there for Petunia’s little family but the majority must surely be for the boy.

Footsteps were soon heard on the landing. The unseen couple turned in time to see Petunia walk down the stairs and turn into the hallway. She stopped at a small cupboard built under the stairs to utilise the space. There had been one at Spinner’s End as well. The woman rapped once on the door before sliding the bolt to unlatch it. Opening the door she walked away.

Severus gasped when a small messy haired child emerged from within. He quickly followed the child as he dashed to a small washroom off the laundry. He noted the child only used cold water to wash with and very little at that. As the child returned to the kitchen he went back to the hall to check the cupboard.

He recognised the tatty blue blanket that was folded neatly on the small mattress, he had sent it to Lily after her baby had been born. In one corner was a pile of neatly folded clothes that would have made better rags than clothes. A few small, broken toys lined one of the bare struts that supported the stairs.

Hearing the sound of pots and pans Severus turned his attention to the kitchen. “Dudders wants a full breakfast with chocolate pancakes. Your Uncle wants a full breakfast as well with poached eggs and Eggs Benedict. I’ll have Eggs Florentine and toast. Milk, orange and apple juice for Duddykins. Earl Grey tea and Jamaican Blue coffee for your uncle and I,” Petunia said matter-of-factly.

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” the boy said flatly.

Time passed quickly while Harry cooked a small mountain of food and slowed again as the boy was putting the laden plates on the table he had set whilst cooking. When the last plate slid into place heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs. The child quickly moved out of the way. A beefy man entered the room dwarfing it and lumbered towards the table. Before he sat a high pitched squeal came from the living room. “Mummy, Mummy, Santa’s been,” a child’s voice announced.

Petunia plastered a brilliant smile on her face and rose from her chair. “Good morning Popkin,” she said in a sickly sweet voice, “Come and have some breakfast then you can open your presents.”

“I don’t want breakfast. I want to open them now,” the child’s voice had turned petulant and whiney as he stomped into the room. The child’s size left both Snapes reeling. It was obvious whose child he was.

“But don’t you want to wait for Aunt Marge?” the man asked.

“Will she have more presents?”

“Of course she will. You are her favourite nephew after all,” the man said, “It’s a shame she can’t stay for more than a day but Ripper is unwell and she doesn’t want to leave him.”

Snape had seen Harry pale and tense up at the mention of Aunt Marge but he visibly relaxed when it was revealed that Ripper would not be accompanying her. He wondered who or what ‘Ripper’ was.

“Well he is her best breeder. Best in show four years running,” Petunia said as she coaxed her son into his seat.

The blond child seemed somewhat mollified with the assurance of more presents. He was soon wolfing down his breakfast, pausing only long enough to make demands for extra things like chocolate flavouring for his milk.

Harry was not welcomed at the table and was constantly back and forth fetching things from the kitchen. A few times he was deemed too slow and cuffed around the head as he apologised profusely.

The family were just finishing up as the doorbell rang. “Well get it boy,” the man snapped.

Harry hurried to obey and returned a few minutes later, “Sir?” a timid voice asked.

“What now?” his uncle demanded.

“Aunt Marge has asked if you would help with the gifts. She doesn’t want my grubby hands on them.”

“Vernon be a dear and come help me please,” a female voice called from the hall.

The beefy man, Vernon, threw down his table napkin and got to his feet. He shoved Harry out of his way as he passed him.

“Have you finished Duddykins?” Petunia asked while reaching over to wipe the obese boy’s face.

“Yes, Mummy.”

Petunia left her seat and taking her son’s hand helped him up before leading him into the family room. Realising that Harry was going to clean up after them, Snape followed.

The family had been joined by a female version of Vernon. She was currently fawning over her nephew. Soon the group settled and began to open their gifts. Severus watched as toy after toy was tossed on the growing pile next to the child. In comparison each adult had a modest pile mostly consisting of various bottles of expensive alcohol and equally expensive chocolates. Vernon had given his wife matching sapphire and diamond pendant and earrings that according to the gloating man was set in platinum. “It’s guaranteed one of a kind Pet.” 

When the last gift was opened Petunia suggested they should take their presents upstairs Dudley had insisted they take his things first so the freak couldn’t play with them. When the last armload of gifts was ready to go Vernon bellowed, “Freak get in here and clean up this mess.”

While Harry picked up the torn paper, ribbons, tags and various types of packaging Petunia bustled about the kitchen weighing and counting the food stuffs. After that she took a bottle of bleach from the cupboard and poured it over the scraps in the bin. Snape thought it was odd until his mother explained that Harry had not eaten anything while he cleaned the kitchen. She had seen the longing in his eyes but he had refrained. “Now she’s making sure he can’t even eat the scraps,” Eileen said sadly.

With the living room set to rights Petunia issued more orders to Harry before going upstairs to get herself and the others ready. Soon the Dursleys were gathered in the entrance hall dressed in their Sunday best. “Boy,” Petunia spat. Harry hurried to her side. She thrust a piece of paper at him. “We’re going to church,” she said pompously, “Get started with that list.”

The child took himself back to the kitchen and began dragging out everything that was needed to prepare and cook Christmas lunch for his family.

Time once more moved forward at a hurried pace and the Dursleys were walking back in the front door as Harry once again laid food the table. The small boy was denied any of the magnificent feast he had slaved over and was shoved into his cupboard for the rest of the day. He was released to clean up the mess the others had left behind.

Before retiring for the night Vernon Dursley had taken a thick leather belt to Harry’s back, bottom and legs before literally throwing him in the cupboard. “Merry Christmas Freak,” he spat out as he closed and locked the door.

Snape found himself standing in his classroom. He looked about and noticed that is was not himself that stood at the front of the room. The man, Horace Slughorn, was his old professor when he was at Hogwarts.

As they stood there they watched Slughorn approach a lone student who was engrossed in note taking of some sort. “Mr. Snape what has you so engrossed?” Slughorn asked.

“Just a theory Professor,” the younger Snape replied.

“May I see it?”

Student Snape reluctantly handed over the parchment he had been labouring over. The class having been drawn by the request were watching with rapt anticipation waiting for the professor to chastise Snape for not paying attention. Not liking the attention Severus hung his head so that his long hair covered his rapidly reddening cheeks.

“There are some very sound thoughts here my lad. Perhaps you’d like to remain behind to discuss them in depth,” the professor suggested.

“Thank you Professor Slughorn that would be appreciated.”

“Back to work everyone.”

Slughorn returned to the front of the room. He turned just in time to James Potter toss something in Severus’ cauldron. Thankfully the boy had the wits and know how to combat the unexpected addition. Horace was furious as he stalked towards Potter Sr. “Mr. Potter just what were you trying to achieve by adding an ingredient to Mr. Snape’s potion?”

“I… umm… I… I don’t know,” Potter stammered.

“You don’t know! Was it your intention to blow up the classroom or just Mr. Snape?”

“Umm… Snape I guess.” 

“You guess! What did you throw into the cauldron Mr. Potter?”

“Umm… not sure.”

“So you threw an unknown ingredient into another cauldron in hopes of either severely injuring or killing Mr. Snape.’

“It’s just Snivellus,” Potter’s lab partner said.

“I was not speaking to you Mr. Black and I never want to hear that name again. Kindly focus on your work,” Slughorn directed a scathing look at Black, “You should count yourself very lucky Mr. Potter that Mr. Snape is very proficient at potions. Something you should aspire to achieve if you wish to join the Auror Corp.”

“Yes Sir,” Potter said softly.

“You will serve detention with myself and Mr. Filch for the next two weeks. You will also receive a zero for today.”

As Slughorn walked away Black began muttering about getting revenge on Snape. “That’s fifty points from Gryffindor Mr. black for threatening a fellow student,” Horace announced without turning around.

As the room shimmered out of focus Snape told Eileen that he had forgotten about that incident. He had been secretly proud at the time that Slughorn had stood up for him. His mother told him that she knew he had forgotten and he would soon see how she knew.

The room came back into focus and Snape saw himself standing at the front of the room. He was nearing the end of the opening speech he gave the first years. He could see that he had captured the attention of all except one, Potter. The boy was hunched up over his parchment no doubt doodling away.

A sharp smack to the back of Severus’ head reminded him that he was not alone and he realised he had spoken his thoughts out loud. “Is that why you made fun of him, Sev? Belittled him in front of your snakes because you thought he was drawing,” his mother said angrily, “I suggest you have a good look at that piece of parchment.”

Eileen shoved him towards the desk and as memory Snape began to harass the boy he looked at what the boy had been doing. There in the child’s scrawl were his own words. Harry had written down his speech word for word.

“He was looking forward to your class. He reasoned that it was probably a mix of cooking and chemistry. He has the aptitude to be that star student you have hungered for and you smashed his hopes. You reminded him of his uncle and that nothing had really changed. The lad resigned himself to be nothing more than an unwanted burden, a freak. You helped cement that,” Eileen said sadly. “He not a bully Severus, you are.  You showed your young snakes that it was perfectly alright to treat the boy that way. You had a chance to show your Slytherins that they didn’t have to choose to be like their parents and follow them to Voldemort. You threw it away along with them. Had you been kind to Harry they would have questioned why. They would have found their answers and not be lead.”

“He’s a Potter, Mum,” Snape started and realised he had said the wrong thing when Eileen glared at him.

“He. Is. A. Child. An orphan. A lost little boy. Yes he’s a Potter but he is nothing like the arrogant boy you knew. As I said before you are the bully and you are teaching your snakes to follow you. You’ve held a grudge all these years and it has turned you bitter. Let. It. Go.”

“I cannot,” Severus ground out.

“Then you condemn a child, Lily’s child, to a life of misery. Congratulations.”

Before Severus could respond he found himself alone and back at his desk in his classroom. The essays were waiting and he pushed them aside. Rising from his chair he began to pace. The things that he had seen did not gel with the things he knew. Potter lived with his maternal grandparents. His father’s parents having died before the child was born. There was no way Lily or her parents would have allowed petty Petunia to raise the brat.

He knew the Potter was just as spoilt and arrogant as his father. He was always getting away with things – the troll at Halloween, the Quidditch team. The professors felt sorry for him so they were lenient with the boy. He was always starting fights with Draco Malfoy and others… No not others. He had to admit he never heard of Potter getting into arguments with other students.

He didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. He turned to his desk packing up his things he went to his private quarters. He placed the things he carried on the desk in the living room and made his way to the hearth. There he pointed his wand at the dying embers and muttered a charm that would add more wood and coax the embers back to life. From there he made his way to the hooks near the front door. He took off his teaching robes and hung them up. He eased his heavy dragon hide boots off his feet and sighed as he slid said feet into his slippers.

The warmth from the fire began to permeate the room taking the chill from the air. Making his way to the liquor cabinet he poured two fingers of his favourite scotch into a tumbler. With the amber liquid in hand he took a seat near the fire. He watched the dancing flames becoming lost in them.

He became aware of a presence and groaned when he realised who it was, “Potter,” he spat.

“Severus,” James said with a nod, “Be thankful it’s me and not Lily. She is not happy with you.”

Snape paled at the mention of Lily’s name. He knew firsthand what her temper was like. “Yes you are right. I suppose we are going on a journey,” the professor said quietly.

“Yes. You might want to grab your robes and put some shoes on. It’s bloody cold out there.”

The Potions Master crossed the room and donned his outer clothes. He was surprised when Potter Sr. opened the front door. “After you,” he said bowing low. Snape walked into the hallway. “This way.” They turned and headed towards the Slytherin dorms.

The common room was somewhat cheerful with a crackling fire and tasteful Christmas decorations. Five stockings hung from the mantel. Severus knew who they were for. At James’ insistence he took a closer look at Draco’s letter to Santa. The brat had asked for everything from a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans to a racing broom to a Ferrari. He smirked at the list but sadly he realised the boy would probably get nearly everything he had asked for and more.

They left the dungeons and made their way up to the Gryffindor common room. As with the Slytherins there was a cheery fire and Christmas decorations. Stockings hung there as well but there were not enough for the amount of lions that had stayed behind. When he looked closer Harry’s was missing. “Look in Ron Weasley’s stocking,” James told him.

Inside he found two letters. One in Weasley’s almost illegible writing and the other in Harry’s messy script. He opened the letter and was saddened at what he read.

‘My friend Ron said I have to write. I know I’m not supposed to but I don’t want to argue with him at Christmas.

I’m well aware that you don’t come to freaks like me. So there is no point in asking for anything. This is just to keep Ron happy.

Harry’

The professor looked at the small pile of gifts that had already been placed beneath the tree for Harry. He recognised Molly Weasley’s writing so he knew there was a jumper and probably some fudge in that parcel. There was a gift from the youngest Weasley male, one from Granger and one from Hagrid. There was a mystery gift with neither tag nor card. “That unmarked one is from Albus,” James helpfully supplied, “Though I wish he had waited until Harry was older.”

“It’s that damnable cloak of yours isn’t it?” Snape asked.

“Yes it is.”

“Who’s the really small one from?”

“Petunia and Vernon. They sent him a fifty pence piece. No matter which present he opens it will be the first he has received since Lily and I were murdered. Hedwig was his first birthday gift since then. Come.”

“Why is your son in Petunia’s loving care? Surely Rose and Henry would have taken him?”

“I forgot you were in Azkaban so you wouldn’t know they were targeted shortly after that Halloween night. Tuney was spared because she no longer lived there. Harry should have gone to Sirius. If not him then anyone else except the Weasleys because of the number kids they have and Petunia. I should have listened to Lily and put you on the list.”

“Me? Why?”

“Instead of staying with Harry Sirius took off after Pettigrew. You, you stayed and you comforted him until Hagrid arrived. You did more for the son of your enemy than his chosen godfather did.”

James had led the way upstairs. They found the first year boys dorm easily enough. “They won’t hear us or know that we’re here,” James said as they made their way to the foot of Harry’s bed. Severus looked around and noted that the only thing adorning the boy’s personal space was his owl’s cage. The other boys had posters, books and in Longbottom’s case plants. James drew the other man’s attention to his son’s trunk that he had opened.

“Do you know why he has such substandard work?” Snape shook his head, “He has enough ink and parchment to see him through the year. There is no extra for rewrites. Also he was never taught how to use a quill. Minerva doesn’t teach first years the way you do.”

“Granger’s essays are legible and she’s muggleborn,” Snape pointed out.

“Weasley is a pureblood wizard and you can barely read his.”

“Point taken.”

“Besides Harry can barely see. Those glasses aren’t his prescription. Petunia got them from a charity bin when he was five because the teacher complained. He’s never had his eyes looked at. Yours is the only class where he sits down the back because of you. He has to rely on his partners and books to get things right.”

“I never thought about his eyes. I just thought he had the same problem you did and chose not to take the potion like you did.”

“He doesn’t even know about the potion.”

“I see.”

“Take a good look in his trunk, Severus. Just like his glasses his clothes are deplorable. You wouldn’t use them as rags. He has exactly what was on the supplies list, no extra.”

Snape was looking. He had to admit the clothes were horrid. Far too big for the child, full of holes, tears and stains. “I don’t understand it, I know Albus has been paying a stipend for your son’s upkeep,” the professor said quietly.

“Yes that’s how they manage to spoil that brat of theirs. ‘Out of the goodness of their hearts they took Harry into their home. They gave him clothes off their precious son’s back. They fed him from their plates.’ That’s what they constantly tell Harry and anyone else who asks. They would even tell you that load of tripe because they believe it to be true.”

“I had no idea. How did he end up in Gryffindor? The hat usually sorts the abused ones into my house.”

“It tried to but thanks to Hagrid, Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley Harry refused.”

“Let me guess both Hagrid and Weasley spouted off about only evil people coming out of Slytherin. Draco no doubt was his usual ‘I’m better than you’ self,” Snape said with disgust.

James Potter said nothing as the Potions Master repacked Harry’s trunk. He could see that the man was deep in thought.

As Severus closed the lid he saw a little foot. It wasn’t hanging out of the side of the bed instead it was on the floor. He followed the attached leg and growled when he found Harry asleep on the floor. He was tempted to move him but felt Potter Senior’s hand on his shoulder, “You’ll wake him. He’s not allowed to sleep in a bed or sit on a sofa or an arm chair. Haven’t you ever noticed he never complains about how hard the stools and benches are? He’s used to them.”

“It’s cold in here he should be in bed,” Snape protested.

“The elves cast warming and cushioning charms around him once he’s asleep. They tried moving him into the bed but he became so distraught they never tried again. Come it’s time to return to you rooms.”

It was a very subdued Severus Snape that followed the spirit of James Potter. Back in the Potions Master’s quarters James wished him good luck and vanished.

Snape was tired but he dare not close his eyes. He sat in his chair near the fire remembering Dickens from his childhood. The last ghost was the scariest of them all and he was not looking forward to seeing the spectre of death. He was fearful of what was to come.

This time the light was of no surprise. The ink bottle whizzing past his left ear and shattering on the hearth was not expected. He shot to his feet and turned in time to duck the next projectile.

The ghost of Lily Potter was ready to launch her third missile when she noticed her intended target was on his feet. She crossed to room is seconds grabbing a throw cushion from the sofa as she passed. He did nothing more than raise his arms to protect his head as she raged against him. There was no stopping Lily when her temper had the best of her. She was quick to ignite and just as quick to burn out.

As the tempest waned he found himself with arms full of weeping witch as she berated him for going back on his promise. When she was calm he looked at her, his breath caught at the sadness he saw in her beautiful eyes. “You promised to watch over him Sev, but you never once asked Albus about him. You never demanded to know where he was. You let your hatred for James and Sirius sour you so much that you took it out on my son at the first opportunity. Now you will see where it leads,” Lily said fiercely, her tears long gone.

She grabbed Severus’ hand and he found himself back in the Dursley house. He and Lily watched as Harry was dragged up the stairs by an irate Vernon. They followed and Snape wished they hadn’t. The scene before them bought back memories of the times when he had found himself in a similar position with his own father.

The man was whipping the slight teen with a wide leather belt. The buckle was tearing into the boy’s skin beneath the thin t-shirt, drawing blood. Harry’s arms were raised to protect his face. No cries or pleas were heard the only evidence that he was suffering were the tears that cascaded down his face.

When the pain became too much Harry sunk to the floor sobbing as he curled into a protective ball. Vernon tossed the belt and began kicking the boy. Not stopping until he heard bone break. With a sickening grin of satisfaction on his face he crossed the room and yanked open the door, “Bring me the freak’s stick Pet,” he bellowed.

A few minutes Petunia appeared using kitchen tongs to carry Harry’s wand. Vernon grabbed it from his wife and ordered her to bring a bucket of cold water. Turning he stalked over to his nephew noting that the boy had indeed slipped into an unconscious state. He wanted him awake for what he was about to do.

Petunia soon returned with requested water. She watched as her husband dumped the entire bucketful on the freak. Then took it to fill again as he asked.

“Awake boy?” he demanded.

“Yes sir,” was the quiet reply.

“Look here freak,” tortured green eyes looked up and widened at what they saw. His wand was being held by the last person he ever wanted to touch it. “Your aunt tells me that freaks feel a lot of pain when their wands are snapped on purpose. Says something inside them snaps as well. That’s why they break a prisoner’s wand before they lock him up.”

Vernon Dursley stared at his nephew in anticipation as he broke the holly wand in two. He delighted in the anguished the screams that were torn from the boy’s throat as he thrashed convulsively on the floor.

He left the freak lying there in a pool of vomit, closed and locked the door.

Time sped forward as the scene before them swirled and changed. The two found themselves standing in the infirmary at Hogwarts. They stood at the foot of Harry’s bed and watched as Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey explained to Harry that he was little more than a squib. “You’ll be able to stay here my boy,” Dumbledore said soothingly, “Not in Gryffindor though since you will no longer be attending any classes. We’ll be able to find odd jobs around here for you to do. Nothing that requires a lot of magic obviously.”

“Perhaps Severus could take him on as an apprentice. He’s always complaining he has too much to do,” McGonagall added.

“Perhaps. I’ll speak to him.”

“Here’s your chance,” the matron said as the man in question entered the room.

As the mediwitch attended her patient the other two told Snape of their idea. “Absolutely not,” the man exploded, “He’s a mediocre brewer at best. He won’t listen to instruction and never does as he’s told. Do you really want to put this school at risk like that?”

“Severus be reasonable,” Dumbledore pleaded.

“No Albus, it will be a cold day in hell before I allow that… that boy into my private space,” Snape spun on his heels and made for the door, “Potions apprentice what a joke.”

“We’ll find something Harry. It’ll be fine.”

Lily took Snape’s hand and they faded away.

***

Opening his eyes the Potions Master recognised the cemetery they stood in, Godric’s Hollow. They quietly approached the gravestone that marked the final resting place of his only friend. He had come here often to leave flowers for the woman he loved. “Harry’s never been here to our graves. He doesn’t even know where we are resting. Did you know he didn’t want to go to the Halloween feast? He’d found out two months prior that James and I had been murdered and here he was expected to celebrate with everyone,” Lily said as they walked.

“I didn’t know I should have, but I didn’t,” Snape said softly.

They stopped and he noticed the new inscription that had been added in the middle of the stone beneath the names of the persons already buried there.

Harry James Potter

31~7~1980  –  31~10~1996

Beloved Son

Nothing else was written. “Harry wanted it that way. He only ever wanted to be Harry, just Harry,” Lily said sadly. “At the end of fifth year Harry sees Sirius murdered by Bellatrix when he and his friends are tricked into going to the Ministry. Shortly after that he is possessed by snake face. During the time that Voldie invades his body Harry is given a look into the man’s mind. He finds the keys to bringing him down. When he finds himself at Hogwarts after Vernon beats him and breaks his wand he has time to implement his plan.

In his second year Harry found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in Myrtle’s bathroom. This was where he found everything he needed to destroy the Horcruxes that housed Tom’s fractured soul. He had help from two elves, one that once belonged to Malfoy, the other the old Black family elf he inherits.

He found two spells. One that would not only put an end to Voldemort but everyone who was loyal to him. No-one would escape this time. It came at a cost. He gave his life for yours because he didn’t think you would allow him to use the Dark Mark on your arm to cast the other spell he found.”

“Lily I didn’t know… no that’s a lie. I suspected he was being treated badly by his family. He showed signs of abuse but you’re right I let my hatred for James get in the way and I ignored them. I should have…”

“Yes you should have,” Lily cut him off angrily, “Look over there.”

Snape looked in the direction Lily mentioned, ‘When did the fog roll in?’ he thought.

As it eased up he saw an older Ron and Hermione standing beside an open grave. He was surprised that they were there and not mourning Harry. He approached them. “He shouldn’t be buried here,” Weasley growled.

“It was in his will,” Granger said.

“Doesn’t make it right. He shouldn’t be near decent people. He shouldn’t be near Harry.”

“Let it go Ron. He’s dead.”

“He should have died all those years ago when Harry did.” 

“Let’s go. No one else is going to show.”

The pair left and the Potions Master looked down at the headstone that waited to be put in place. He read his own name.

Severus Snape awoke to a darkened, chilled room. He was still in his chair where he had been before Lily attacked him. A dream it must have been a dream, he thought as he cast incendio at the hearth. The flash of blue flame showed a pool of ink, glittering glass shards shone within the blackness.

He spelled the lights on and looked about. There was the second one smashed upon the wall next to the fire place. The cushion Lily had beaten him with lay forgotten on the floor. He picked it up and was surprised that it smelled faintly of her favourite perfume. Not a dream but a very real wake up call.

He had failed his one true friend again. He had let his hatred guide him instead of her love. She had given him yet another chance and he wasn’t screwing it up this time. He hurriedly conjured a patronus and sent it off to Hagrid. He called a house elf and asked the little creature if he and some of his friends would like to help him. Snape had to enervate the poor thing after he explained just what he wanted done. Grabbing his winter cloak, scarf and gloves he left the warmth of his room for the cold outside and Hagrid’s hut.

***

Rubeus Hagrid was a half giant with a heart just as big. He had been rather surprised to be woken up by the Potions Master’s doe patronus. Always eager to help he had risen from his bed and dressed quickly. He didn’t understand why the dour man was wanting to find a tree at this hour of the morning but he would help. He hurried to open the door at the quiet knock that sounded through the room.

“Sev’rus,” he greeted the other man.

“Hagrid,” Snape said with a nod, “Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

“What sorta tree ya lookin’ for perfessa?”

“A Christmas tree, Rubeus. One that will fit in my living room,” the wizard said with a broad smile.

***

Snape was rather surprised at how much energy he had to put into an enervate spell for the half giant. Rousing the elf from his faint had been so much easier.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Hagrid said sheepishly.

“It’s my fault, Hagrid, I shouldn’t have said that and smiled. It was too much for you.”

“C’mon lets git tha’ tree ‘fore you give me a ‘eart attack.”

The disappeared into the Forbidden Forest and emerged half an hour later with a six foot tree. After asking Hagrid to join him for morning tea, Snape bid the man goodnight and made his way back to his rooms levitating the tree behind him.

***

Cali had popped into the kitchens after leaving the Potions Master quarters. He was a little shaky and the others rushed to comfort him thinking Snape had been horrid to him as usual. They forced him to drink a cup of hot chocolate laced with a healthy dollop of elf brandy and as he did he told the other elves what had happened.

“Are you quite certain that is what he said?” the head elf Rolle asked.

“Very,” Cali said nodding his head.

“Right,” Rolle took charge, “You two get to work on the gifts for the adults. You three focus on Harry’s gifts. You two find some decorations. You lot get to Snape’s rooms and clean up. The castle will add a room for Harry, furnish it but make it simple. Snape can take him shopping.”

The elves were abuzz with excitement this was the type of thing that they lived for.

***

Severus ran through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts as if the devil himself was chasing him and perhaps he was. He skidded to a stop in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. He was shocked when the bloody thing winked at him and slid open without him saying a word. He took the stairs two at the time and was ready to pound on the door at the top only to find open.

A somewhat sombre Dumbledore, his head resting on one hand, sat at his desk that was oddly devoid of the usual papers that cluttered it. Instead a small neat pile was sitting in the middle of the blotter. “You know Severus in all the years I knew her I was never subjected to Lily’s temper. I know now why it was something to fear,” he said as he sat up straight and lowered his hand to reveal a bright red handprint.

“Lily did that?” Severus asked shocked.

“She did my boy. Said she wanted to do a lot more but she needed me alive to help you and young Harry. It is spelled and cannot be removed. It will not show unless I do something ‘stupid’ where you and Harry are concerned, then it will be seen until I have fixed the problem.”

“She came to you then?”

“Yes so did James and your mother. I have a lot to atone for as well. These papers are for you to sign. The first set are adoption papers for Harry. The second… well you can see for yourself.” Albus gently pushed the pile of parchment to the other side of the desk. “I will leave you to read them. Call me when you are ready.”

The Potions Master’s fingers shook as he picked up the papers. Sinking slowly onto one of the visitor chairs he began reading. It appeared to be a standard adoption form. Harry’s name, date and place of birth were recorded as well as the names of his parents, their birth and death dates. The declarations to provide for the boy’s physical and emotional wellbeing were there. Everything seemed normal until he started to read the second page.

Where it asked for sponsors and/or character references two names he had not expected were etched there and the date. James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Potter. December Twenty Fifth, Nineteen Hundred and ninety one.  The signatures could easily be verified as they were held on record at Gringotts where the forms went for verification before being filed at the Ministry.

With the blessings of his best friend and one time enemy he signed the parchment. Albus’ signature was already in place. The parchment glowed a light blue colour before it vanished.

Severus was left staring and shocked once again. Another set of adoption papers but for him this time. The petitioner was Albus. Flipping to the last page Snape saw his mother’s name and signature in the sponsors and/or character references. He was an adult he didn’t really need a sponsor but it would be accepted none the less. Albus had already signed and Severus knew the man never signed anything without careful consideration.

Feeling like all his Christmases had come at once he happily signed the paper. Another soft blue glow and it was gone too.

Feeling mischievous the Potions Master found some blank parchment in the Headmaster’s desk and began writing a letter to Santa. When it was finished and dry he placed it in an envelope, sealed it and laid it in the middle of the desk blotter. He made his way to the top of the spiral stairs and called out loud enough for Dumbledore to hear him, “I’m going to collect my son, Albus.” He was down the stairs and past the gargoyle before Albus was even in the room.

***

Albus was saddened at finding an empty room. He had hoped that Severus would accept his offer. He wearily made his way to his desk to sit and order tea. He noted that the pile of parchment was gone and that an envelope addressed to ‘Santa Clause C/- Albus Dumbledore’ was waiting. Forgetting the tea he tore open the letter. His eyes were bright and full of unshed tears as he read his son’s wish list.

He called a house elf and asked for tea while he contemplated the best way to fulfil the list. When the elf returned it asked if that was all because they were a bit busy and he was needed elsewhere. “Busy?” Albus asked.

“Helping Master Potions Master make room for Master Harry Potter and gettings gifts and things,” the elf replied.

“Could you ask Rolle to come here please?”

The little elf popped away and Rolle popped in. Albus told him what he wanted and Rolle said he would add to the shopping list his elves had already.

The Headmaster finished his tea and went back to bed.

***

“Severus Snape have ye lost what little sense god gave ye,” Minerva growled as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Please Minnie,” he begged.

“What in Merlin’s name has gotten into ye lad?”

“My Mum and Da. Lily and James. Please Min, I’m not going to hurt him. He’s hurting enough and I want to make some of it go away.”

“Off with ye but if ye hurt the wee bairn you’ll get a skelping’ ye won’t soon forget.”

“Just one question before I go,” Severus gave her a mischievous look, “Just how many hot toddies did you have with Albus last night?”

“Not enough I’m thinking,” she muttered before shoving him out the door, “Away with ye and mind what I said.”

The witch smiled to herself as she crossed the room to her fire place. On the mantel was a filigree silver photo frame that held a snap of happier times. “Well done Lily and James,” she said quietly as she looked at the young couple and their only child, “I think they’ll make it.”

***

Bowing deeply to the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor tower the professor wished her a Merry Christmas and apologised for waking her so early and explained why he was entering. She smiled at him before opening the door, “Lily would be so pleased with you right now,” she said as he passed.

Crossing the common room he cast a notice me not spell on the gifts under the tree that would wear off when he left the tower. Knowing that the elves had been in and placed sleeping charms on the students he made a lot of noise to allow Harry time to get out from under the bed. The child in question was rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes when Snape stomped in. “Get dressed Potter and meet me downstairs,” he snapped.

***

He had been having a wonderful dream about his angel. She often came to him when he was asleep at the Dursleys. This time she told him she was sending a father to him for him for Christmas. “Freaks don’t get Christmas presents,” he told her sadly.

“This time you do,” she told him gently, “The man needs you just as much as you need him. He hasn’t been very nice to you in the past but you have to trust him just like I do.”

He was ripped from his dream by the sound of footsteps outside the door. He scrambled from beneath the bed and stood there rubbing his eyes as Snape walked in, “Get dressed Potter and meet me downstairs,” he snapped.

As quickly as he could Harry rushed to do what the man wanted. He had been grateful that the professor had made enough noise to wake him before he entered the room. No-one knew about him sleeping on the floor.

With his uniform on and his shoes in his hand so as not to awaken Ron he left the room and hurried down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom to slip them on. Snape was already heading out the door and he rushed to catch up with him.

Following quietly Harry wondered what he had done to earn a detention in the middle of the night and why had no-one told him. Perhaps he hadn’t washed all of the cauldrons earlier and Snape was going to make him finish them.

He was a bit taken back when his Potions Master walked past the classroom door and the door to his office. The man finally stopped a painting of a rural scene with a man fishing in a stream. “The password is ‘Lilium’ Mr. Potter,” Snape said quietly as he leant down closer to him.

“Lilium,” he said quickly and the door opened.

Harry gasped as he stepped into the room. Who would have guessed that Snape of all people lived in such an inviting place? There was a cheerful fire in the hearth, warming the room. Gathered around it was a couch and matching chairs that were deep and inviting. In one corner Snape had a desk with some book shelves behind it and to one side. There were windows that Harry instantly realised were charmed liked the ceiling in the Great Hall but instead of showing the weather they showed outside views.

Past the fireplace and in the opposite corner to the desk stood a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. It wasn’t lit like Aunt Petunia’s was and it didn’t have a star or an angel on the top but it was still beautiful. Snape walked over to the tree and beckoned for Harry to join him. “I need to finish the tree Mr. Potter and I thought you would like to help,” Snape said flatly, picking up a white box the professor knelt in front of the small boy. “In my family it is tradition for the youngest to place the angel upon the tree and then light up the tree.”

“I didn’t know you had a family professor,” said Harry, “What are they like?”

“My father can be bit maddening at times but overall his a good man with a big heart and a sweet tooth. My son… well my son is like most boys his age getting into mischief and the like but for the most part he’s a sweet child with a caring and giving nature just like his mother. He also has a big heart that is full of love and compassion.”

“Do… do you love him?”

“I think so. I didn’t at first. I was jealous and spiteful because he represented two people who made my life both a joy and a misery when I was growing up. I treated him badly and that was wrong.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

“I hope someday that he will.”

A chime sounded in the room and Snape cast his eyes towards the fireplace, the flames flashed green and a scroll landed on the hearth rug. “Would you get that please Harry?”

Harry’s eyes widened at the use of his name but he said nothing. Quickly he retrieved the parchment and handed it to Snape. “Ah your first Christmas gift.”

“Mine?” Harry squeaked.

“Well it’s for both of us really. I had some unexpected visitors earlier and so did the Headmaster. They made their wishes known. So I guess you could say this is from all of us.”

Setting aside the box that he still held Snape carefully broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. He scanned it quickly before turning it around for Harry to read.

It was a tense five minutes before Harry spoke. “You adopted me? You adopted me and I never have to go back to the Dursleys? And… and my parents agreed?”

“Yes to all of those questions.”

“My angel said she was sending someone…” Harry said softly, “But you hate me,” he said louder.

Snape didn’t know what to make of the boy’s earlier words. Could Lily have visited her son as well? “Did you listen to my words when I spoke of my son?”

“You were talking about me?”

“Yes Harry. You are my only son. Now I think we should get the tree finished because you need to go to bed, in the bed not on the floor. You are not a freak as your insidious relatives insist on calling you. You are a very special child and you deserve to be loved and cherished like other children. That means you have your own room with a bed to sleep in. You have clothes and shoes that fit you. You have food to eat when you are hungry. You have toys, games and books to amuse yourself with. You do not work from sun up to sun down. There will be rules and consequences but we can go over them later.

Why don’t we see if we can find you some pyjamas first then we can finish the tree? After that we can talk for a little while. If you fall asleep I will tuck you into bed.”

Snape led Harry to the newly formed door. “I haven’t seen in here yet so I’m not sure what the elves have put together for you?”

“Elves?”

“Of course you wouldn’t know about house elves since you grew up with Petunia. I’ll introduce you to one. Rolle.”

A small creature dressed in a white pillow case with royal blue edging and the Hogwarts crest popped up in front of them. Harry noted the bat-wing like ears, the bulbous nose and the tennis ball size eyes that protruded quite a lot. “What can I do for you Master Snape?” it asked bowing.

“Harry this Rolle, he is the head house elf here at Hogwarts. He oversees all the cooking, cleaning and other household chores that need to be done to keep a castle running smoothly. All house elves are eager to please and will happily do whatever you ask them to. You should never abuse that eagerness Harry. Before you ask them to do something ask yourself if it really is something you cannot do yourself,” Severus saw Rolle’s eyes get bigger as he spoke about the elves, “Another thing you should know is that not all house elves speak as clearly as Rolle, though he is working hard to teach them but it is hard to undo years of incorrect speech. Also some of the older wizarding families treat house elves appallingly much as your relatives treated you. Even I have been guilty of losing my temper with them. Rolle would you like to show my son his room? Especially where you have put his pyjamas.”

“Yes I would.”

Rolle opened the door and taking Harry gently by the hand he led him in to the spacious room.

At first Severus thought it was too big but as he watched the two tour the room he realised it was what Harry needed to grow. The Dursleys had kept him in a cramped cupboard and not allowed him to do anything besides cooking and cleaning. In this room the boy had a quiet corner for reading near the small bed. Another corner with a large table and chairs where he could play all sorts of games. Another corner where he could let his creativity run wild, draw, paint, sculp. In the final corner was a desk with shelves for the boy’s school books and necessities. There were already rolls of parchment, quills and bottles of ink.                                                                                                                                                     

The pair disappeared through a door that Snape figured led to a walk in closet. A few seconds later he heard a high pitched squeal that made his heart jump, it was followed by the most precious words he had ever heard, “Daddy, come see.”

The Potions Master crossed the room and through the closet to… he stood there staring at the bathroom. It was forest glade complete with waterfall and pond. What little boy in his right mind wouldn’t want to run naked about the room and jump into the water? He couldn’t see any trouble getting Harry to bathe. “Rolle said it’s big enough for you to teach me to swim.”

He looked down and there was Harry staring up at him with hope filled eyes. “You don’t know how to swim?” Severus asked casually. Of course not. From what he knew about his childhood the boy would have been denied swimming lessons.

“No. Dudley had lessons but they didn’t want to waste money on the freak.”

“Well we’ll have to fix that oversight before the giant squid decides to take you swimming with it. Harry do you realise you called me Daddy?”

***

Harry looked up at the man. Had he really done that? Perhaps Snape didn’t want to be called Daddy or Dad or anything that at least sounded warm. He knew Malfoy called his parents Mother and Father. The way he said it sounded cold and uncaring. “I’m sorry,” he said dropping his chin so he was looking at the professor’s feet.

“What are you sorry for Harry?”

“I shouldn’t have been so familiar.”

***

Snape knew that was not Harry talking, most likely it was something he had heard his aunt and uncle use. Gently Severus placed his fingers beneath Harry’s chin and tilted the little head until the boy was looking at him. “I am deeply honoured that you want to call me Daddy, child. It’s a word I never thought I would hear. Come on let’s find those pyjamas.”

Leaving the child to change his clothes the man went back to the living room. He waited near the tree, the box once more in his hands. He was amazed at how much effort the elves and castle had gone to for Harry. The rooms really were perfect for the boy. Hopefully he would be able to let go of the past and enjoy what he should have been all along. He had noted that there wasn’t a lot games, craft supplies etcetera filling the shelves, just the basics. It left room for gifts and for the boy to ask for things. The room had been deliberately left unfinished so the young lion could have a say. He had heard him asking Rolle some questions. To which the elf had told him to ask his Daddy when he was ready.

The footfall of slipper clad feet roused him and looked towards his son. “Did you bring your wand?” Severus asked.

“Oops,” Harry said and darted back to his room. He soon joined the older wizard.

“As I was saying earlier it is a family tradition for the youngest to place the angel upon the tree and light up the tree,” Severus said taking the lid off the box.

Inside was the most beautiful angel Harry had ever seen. It wasn’t anything like the plastic one the Dursleys had. This angel had red hair and emerald green eyes that him of his dream angel. Her face and arms were made of porcelain, the features delicate. Real feathers were used to make the wings. The dress she wore was beautifully patterned red and green satin with gold and silver braid. “She’s beautiful,” Harry said reverently.

“Do you recognise her?”

“No. Should I?”

***

Thankfully Harry was so mesmerised by the angel that he missed the pained look that crossed Severus face followed by an angry scowl. ‘Petunia you better enjoy your freedom while you can,’ he thought.

“My best friend made this angel for me Harry. ‘You’ll never spend another Christmas without me, Sev,’ she told me when she gave it to me. For many years it has stayed locked away in my room. When she died so did a piece of me and I closed my heart. I stopped celebrating Christmas. Now it’s time for our son to place her angel where it belongs.”

“Mum?”

“Yes. Now turn around so I can lift you up, then I will tell you about her.”

Severus Snape most feared man in all of Hogwarts carefully lifted his son and held him aloft while he placed the angel. He then showed Harry how to cast Lumos and light the magic orbs that were placed on various branches. 

Father and son stood in the soft light staring at the beautiful sight before them. Neither of them noticed the small elf that had been charged with capturing these precious moments for an album to be given to the new family.

It was another hour before Severus tucked a sleeping Harry into his bed. He had showed the boy all the photos he had of Lily and even some of James. He told him what he could about them. Harry had cried for what he had been denied. Up until then he had no idea what his parents really looked like.

***

As Harry slept he dreamt of his angel. He realised that his dream angel and the one he had placed on the tree were the same. “Mum?”

“Yes Harry,” Lily said softly.

“Thank you for…” he trailed off uncertain of what to say. He did not want to hurt his mother.

“Harry look at me,” a man’s voice said.

Harry looked up and saw his Dad standing next to his Mum.

“We, your mother and I, both chose Severus for you,” James told him. “You have nothing to fear from us. We are not upset that you want to call him Daddy. He has adopted you and will very publically claim you. You can save each other.

You’ll see us a lot in your dreams over the next few months as we help you and Sniv… Ow Lily,” James yelped, “Old habits… you know. Anyway we’re going to help you and Severus get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

We can do it so no-one gets hurt, my son, then you and your Daddy can live peacefully.”

They assured him that they were happy he was with Snape. They told him where to find certain things that would help defeat Voldemort once and for all.

Harry awoke to the sound of voices outside his bedroom door. One was pleading in a whiney voice much like Dudley did when he wanted his own way. The other was firm and adamant. He recognised both voices instantly.

“It’s Christmas Severus, wake the boy,” the Headmaster entreated.

“No, Dad, he had a late night. Let him sleep,” Snape said sternly.

“Severus Augustus Snape-Dumbledore don’t you dare take that tone with me, behave” Dumbledore scolded.

“Me? Who’s behaving like a spoilt five year old…”

“It’s Christmas…” Albus began to whine again.

Harry snickered quietly as he slipped out of bed and made quick use of the bathroom. With his slippers and dressing gown on, he crept over to the door, they were still on the other side and still arguing. Turning the knob slowly he yanked open the door yelling “Merry Christmas Daddy, did Santa come?”

Both men were startled out of their conversation. Snape turned to scold his son but found that he could not. Harry’s face was lit up in expectation and he found himself picking up the boy instead and hugging him tight. “Merry Christmas to you to Harry. Did your grandfather wake you?”

“You both did,” Harry said quietly.

“I told you…” Snape started.

“You did not…” Dumbledore finished.

“Granddad sounds just like Dudley when he wants something,” Harry chirped.

“Does he now?” Snape asked with a mischievous smile.

“Dudley?” Albus asked.

“Petunia’s thoroughly spoiled brat,” Severus said in a biting tone before turning to Harry, “Breakfast child, then you can shower and get dressed before everyone else arrives.”

Snape carried Harry to the square dining table and placed him on one of the four chairs. He indicated which chair Albus should take then disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a laden tray. He carefully placed it on the table then set the plates before his family. “My Mum always made me pancakes with ham and cheese for breakfast at Christmas,” the Potions Master said as he sat down, “I thought we would make it another tradition for us to keep.”

Harry smiled and nodded. He had never had someone cook a meal for him before. Albus agreed it was a wonderful idea.

“Before you eat Harry I want to give you one present that needs to be taken on an empty stomach,” his father said as he handed over a corked phial. “Take it then close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

The potion tasted horrible and Harry could feel it flowing through his body. He gasped when the sensation stopped at his eyes. There was some slight burning and tugging around them but nothing that hurt.

“Take your glasses off child and slowly open your eyes,” Snape told him.

Following the man’s instructions Harry’s eyes focused and he saw the most wondrous thing – everything. For the first time in his life everything was clear. He did not need to squint to see the other side of the room. “Thank you,” Harry said awkwardly, his throat feeling constricted by the sobs he was trying to repress. Next to his mother giving her life for him it was the most precious gift he had received.

Gathering the boy into his arms and onto his lap Snape kissed him tenderly on the forehead, “You are more than welcome Harry.”

Harry buried his head in his father’s shoulder and let go of the sadness he was holding. When he was finished Snape dried his tears and told him to eat. Harry went to move but his father’s hand stayed him.

***

At ten-thirty, after Harry had showered and dressed, the first of their guests arrived. Minerva McGonagall had been stunned at how the living room looked all decked out for Christmas. Severus had welcomed her with a kiss and a hug after taking the gifts she carried and placing them under the tree. The same reaction was garnered from the other professors upon their arrival.

When the last guest had arrived and Albus was getting ready to tell them the news of the adoptions Harry stole his thunder, “Daddy, can we open the presents now?” Every eye turned to Harry who was looking up at Snape.

“Da… daddy?” Minerva spluttered.

Harry raced to where they had put the adoption certificate, snatched it up and raced to McGonagall with it. “Mum and Dad gave me a new Daddy for Christmas,” Harry said excitedly showing the witch where his parents had signed.

Minerva and the others were speechless but soon rallied congratulating both Severus and Harry. “That’s not all,” Harry said, “I got a granddad too.”

Albus and Severus explained what had happened the night before.

The group settled and enjoyed watching as Harry, Severus and Albus celebrated their first Christmas as a family. They counted themselves lucky to be included in such a momentous event.

Harry stood in the doorway his arm draped around Gabrielle, his wife of ten years. After finishing Hogwarts he had travelled with his father. They had gone to France and Harry had taken the opportunity to call upon the Delacour family as Bill and Fleur Weasley were visiting. He had seen Gabrielle again and they had agreed to write to each other. When she was old enough he had courted and married her. Ginny Weasley had been very upset about it and hadn’t spoken to him since.

They both looked on fondly as Harry’s Daddy told the story of how Harry had become his son to his growing number of grandchildren. They had yet to tell him that baby number five was on the way.

Albus sat across the way, his eyes twinkling as he looked upon his family. There had been a few times in the early years when Lily’s handprint had been visible but he soon learnt whether to interfere or not with the men’s lives. Surprisingly hiding Harry from his irate father when he was in trouble was allowed as it gave Severus time to calm down.

Severus held his youngest grandson in his lap. He smiled at the emerald green eyes that looked up at him in awe. There was plenty of love in the room and he had never been so grateful for those ghostly visitors all those years ago.