As expected Harry Potter was a natural on a broom. This broom was merely a toy and would not rise very high or go very fast but not even Severus could deny that Potter managed the broom with great instincts. It would have been depressing to watch had it not been that the boy kept laughing, and his laugh sounded too much like that of his mother to ever be mistaken for his father’s.

At lunch Potter chattered happily with the headmaster, apparently over any lingering fear of the man. Severus was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad. The chattering was giving him a headache.

After lunch he found himself mercifully relieved of his baby sitting duty and he returned to his quarters to read a book. For two straight hours he did not move more than to turn pages every once in a while.

Eventually he grew bored of reading and his eyes began to wander. The Christmas decorations did not sting in his eyes quite as badly as they had that morning and the puppet had, very wisely, remained silent in Severus’ presence.

How had all of this appeared? The only thing that seemed even remotely likely was that it was some sort of burst of accidental magic from the boy. Severus had never heard of anything like it but what else could it possibly be?

Around dinner time Severus left his quarters once again. He wondered if the headmaster had come up with any better arrangements yet. Potter still had his backpack in Severus’ quarters so he knew the boy had not left yet but logically he should have to leave soon. What was that strange feeling in his chest at the thought of Potter leaving?

“Mr. Snape!”

As soon as Severus appeared in the entrance hall Potter came running towards him, throwing his arms around Severus’ waist and hugging him. Severus stood awkwardly still, hoping that the boy would let go soon.

“Mr. Hagrid and I have been exploring the castle! It’s amazing, did you know?” the boy told him as he finally let go of Severus’ waist, only to grab his hand instead. “The stairs are moving and at first I was a little bit scared, because I haven’t really seen any moving stairs before, but then I wasn’t.”

Together they entered the Great Hall for dinner, Potter happily telling Severus about his day and Severus struggling to take in the flood of information he was getting.

“And there are suits of armor everywhere and they all sing, though not the same song, and the portraits move and sometimes they even talk!”

Now the students were whispering and looking over at Potter often. Severus supposed someone had finally figured out who the boy was.

“And there’s a huge library with thousands of books and a librarian named Madam Pince, and she’s really protective about her books! Like really, really protective! But she helped me find this story book for me to read and it’s really nice and all but the stories are so strange!”

“Quite an eager little one, isn’t he?” Dumbledore commented silently to Severus.

“Indeed,” Severus agreed.

Potter continued to speak but Severus only listened with half an ear, toning most of it out. It was clear that the boy had been enjoying the day.

“I remember someone else who used to talk a lot when she got excited.”

“He is not his mother,” Severus said, suddenly needing to point it out.

“He is not his father either.”

“No. He’s a mix of them.”

He realized that it was true. This boy was not Lily nor was he James Potter. There were elements of them both in him but together they formed a unity that could only be described as Harry Potter.

It was a strange thought. Lily was dead, the mere thought of her brought painful sorrow, and he had hated James Potter. This boy however was something entirely different. There was something about him that fascinated Severus, that had done so even after their very first meeting, and whatever it was it was not simply Lily’s eyes or Potter’s hair.

“Did you know there are ghosts as well? I met one, a real nice one! His head was almost the whole way off …”

How Potter did Severus could not understand but he managed to continue chattering throughout the dinner, yet still eat a healthy portion of the food and two servings of desert. The wonders of young boys, Severus supposed.

“By the way, Severus, I have been trying to come up with an alternative accommodation but it seems to be more troublesome than I had expected. Would you mind taking the boy for another night?”

“How hard can it be to find someone that wants to take him in?”

“Oh, that part is not hard at all. The hard part is to find someone suitable for it as well.”

“No need to coddle the boy, Albus. He’s not made out of glass.”

“Even so, Severus, not everyone is fit to raise a child such as him. Would you take him another night? He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

On principle he wanted to refuse. He was not going to get stuck on permanent Potter-watch! But as Potter reached for a gingerbread man and took two, handing one to Severus, Severus found he did not mind that much after all.

“As you wish, Albus. I will take him for another night. One night only, mind you.”

The headmaster beamed at him and Severus turned away to chew on his sweet, pretending like he did not know what the elder man was plotting.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

That night Christmas Carols were playing at the radio. The Dursleys sat in uncomfortable chairs in an empty room at the hospital. They looked tired, almost exhausted, and the officer sitting there with them hesitated before he spoke to them.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. It is a hard blow to lose one’s home. Can you tell me what happened before the fire broke loose?”

For a moment the young officer did not think he would get any answer. Their eyes seemed dull and the nurse had told him that they were still in shock. However he still had a job to do and it was necessary for them to find out how the fire in question had started.

“We were …” Mrs. Dursley cleared her throat and began over again. “We were opening the presents.”

“I see. Where there many presents?”

Getting them to talk was his primal goal. Details as to the number of presents had no meaning to him but it could perhaps serve to help them focus on something else.

“There were a few of them, yes,” Mrs. Dursley confirmed. “We, Vernon and I, always strive to give Duddy whatever he wants. Especially for Christmas.”

“Of course you do.”

“Cost a bloody fortune too,” Mr. Dursley commented. “Toys these days … Overprized …”

Mrs. Dursley laid her hand on her husband’s arm, seemingly to calm him down. The officer waited with his questions until the man had calmed down again. On top of everything else a heart attack was the last thing the family needed.

“So, you were opening presents. Young Dudley was happy, I assume, laughing and playing with his new toys. Then what happened?”

They exchanged looks. The officer got the feeling that they both wished they had rehearsed a story before this.

“I opened the last present.”

Surprised the officer moved his attention from the parents to the young boy, who was sitting next to his mother.

“And what was in the last present?” the officer asked, making his voice a little softer.

“A computer game.”

“A computer game? That must have been exciting, wasn’t it?”

“No,” the boy said, starting to look angry.

“No? Why not?”

“It was the wrong game!”

“Well, we all make mistakes, don’t we? Anyway …”

“I wanted the other game! Not that one, the other one! I want it now!”

Seeing as her son was about to throw a tantrum Mrs. Dursley turned towards her son and tried to calm him down.

“Youthful energy,” said Mr. Dursley, gesturing towards his son. “Always have known what he wants and he will make sure he gets it!”

The laughter that followed was empty and ended before it really began. What kind of family was this? The officer wondered.

“Anyway, Dudders got a little … upset, when he realized that we had gotten him the wrong game,” the man continued.

“What happened?”

“Well, we had these candles next to the Christmas tree, you see, and when Dudders wanted to leave, he … knocked them over.”

Embarrassment was clearly written across the man’s face.

“I understand. And from there on the fire spread rather quickly, I presume? Lots of wrapping paper and other easily inflammable objects nearby …”

Mr. Dursley did not reply but it was not really necessary either. At least now they knew how the fire had started. However there were other questions he needed to ask as well.

“Also, I need to tell you that we have not found your nephew yet. Don’t be too upset. Had he been in the house we would have found him, so chances are he has escaped somehow but failed to get himself to the hospital.”

A growl-like sound escaped Mr. Dursley and Mrs. Dursley immediately turned towards him, keeping one hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Calm down, Vernon. Everything will be fine.”

She turned towards the officer.

“The nephew was never in the house. He disappeared during the night. We figured he ran off somewhere.”

“Disappeared? Where could he have gone?”

“I have no idea. I don’t dare to imagine where someone like him might have gone.”

The dislike in her voice was obvious. It came as a shock to the officer. Here they had spent the majority of the day looking for the boy and it was not until now that they told them that he had gone missing before the fire. What kind of family calmly sat down to open Christmas presents when they discovered that their nephew was missing?

“Well … I see. Er, anyway, it might make you happy to hear that the firefighters have managed to put out the fire. Most of the house has burned down, I’m afraid, but …”

“What about my toys?!”

Dudley Dursley had turned his full attention on the officer and suddenly the officer was not quite sure how to manage it.

“I’m afraid that your toys were lost to the fire …”

“This is all your fault!” ¨

To everyone’s surprise the boy turned and pointed an accusing finger towards his parents.

“If you had just gotten me the right game then this would have never happened!”

“Dudders, honey, calm down …”

Frantically Mrs. Dursley tried to calm her son down but it seemed she was fighting a hopeless battle.

“And then I told you to get my toys, but noo, you had to go and call those stupid firefighters instead!”

“Be quiet boy, and for once in your life be thankful for what you have!”

Apparently Mr. Dursley had no patience left. His son stared at him, obviously not used to being shouted at.

“Don’t you yell at Dudders that way! What are you thinking?”

“What am I thinking? What are you thinking?”

Slowly the officer stood up and backed out of the room. This family was mad, he thought. He would leave the nurses to deal with them. At least they had access to sedatives.

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Severus Snape had just finished a cup of tea and was preparing to go to bed. The boy was already asleep on his couch, clutching the toy-broom to him in his sleep. He squirmed a little in his sleep before settling in again. Vaguely Severus wondered what the boy was dreaming about. What did one dream about, at that age? He could not remember.

Quietly he put the empty cup away and turned off the lights. The lights of the Christmas three provided enough light that he had no problem making his way across the room towards his bedroom. Shadows danced across the floor as he moved and then his shoe made contact with something hard.

Bending down to investigate he found it to be the book he had received earlier. Snorting a little he brought it with him into his bedroom and placed it on his bedside table. Whoever had thought to give him that book must be mad, he thought as he undressed. Completely out of his mind. Mental. Insane, even. Why would he ever need a book on how to raise a child? He had no children and he wasn’t planning on getting any!

Changed into his nightclothes he got into bed and closed his eyes, prepared to fall asleep.

Ten minutes later he opened them again, unable to fool himself into believing he could sleep any longer. Thoughts about the day kept passing through his head. He needed something to distract himself. But what? If he wanted to sleep he could not exactly get out of bed, could he?

His eyes fell on the book. Well, perhaps he could read a chapter or two. Just for distraction, of course. Not that he was ever going to actually need it. Unless Dumbledore took more time to find a suitable home for the boy. So, perhaps it could be useful to read a few pages of the book, just in case Harry would come to stay with him for another while.

Settling in with the book Severus began to read.

In his quarters Albus Dumbledore had just finished his evening routine when his floo flared up. Answering the call he found a head, much like his own in appearance, sticking out of the fire.

“There you are, Albus. How are things going?”

“According to plan, I believe.”

The other man chuckled.

“Well, I’m sorry I had to get you involved but it was high time that boy got what he wanted for Christmas!”

“I agree, and I don’t mind at all,” Dumbledore assured the other man. “Though if it ever happens again, perhaps you could give me a bit of a heads up, would you?”

“I’ll try, I’ll try. But you know, it’s busy this time of the year. Barely anything to do from January to November but once December comes around I barely have enough time to eat!”

“Well, one certainly can’t tell that you haven’t been eating anything,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“Of course not! I have an image to uphold! A happy, fat man in red clothes is what people expect and you have to give the masses what they want, I tell you!”

“Too bad those reindeers of yours are not a part of that mass.”

“They don’t complain! Anyway, I have to go. Haven’t quite finished my round yet, you see.”

“Good luck, cousin. And Merry Christmas.”

“Good night, Albus.”

Merry Christmas indeed, Dumbledore thought as he went to sleep.