Harry grew more meloncholly by the day it seemed like. He was still trying to earn points and Draco was still trying to beat him out. "Two weeks left Potter. I'm at 39, what about you?" Harry was at 37 but he didn't tell Draco that. Snape chastized him several times during Potions classes and once stopped him in the hall and scolded him for "skulking". As a result, Harry took Madam Hooch up on her offer and spent several study halls in her office alone with the door cracked open. He used the time to study sometimes but he was growing tired of studying when he felt like he might be doing it all for naught. So instead he spent his study hall time staring out the window longingly at the Quidditch Pitch. Quidditch was the only thing that gave him any hapiness but every time he stepped out onto the field to practice with Slytherin he felt uncertain. The only people who had ever really accepted him were Gryffindors. The Slytherins were still standoffish around him and had no interest in talking to him, except Draco who taunted him at least four times a day. The more he practiced with Slytherin, and the longer he sat at Slytherin table, the more he felt like he had betrayed his friends. The fact that the twins refused to aim the Quaffle at him ate at him too. They weren't exactly his friends, but they were Ron's brothers and Harry had considdered Ron his family for the last year. The fact that they were going out of their way to be nice to him when he had betrayed them made him feel worse. And for what? He might not win Snape over at all.

Harry caught sight of the twins at the end of a hall just after lunch in the middle of the week up on the second floor. They appeared to be pouring over an aging parchment. Harry approached them cautiously, not certain how he'd be received, and waited for them to notice him. Fred looked up first and then nudged his brother with his elbow.

"Harry," George said. Harry tried to detect any ill will in his tone, but couldn't tell if there was any or not.

He held onto the fraying strap of his backpack tightly with both hands. "I- I wondered..." he trailed off and George leaned back against the wall.

"Why we didn't pummel you with Bludgers in the game?"

He nodded. Gryffindor for Harry had really been like two families, the entire house, and then the Quidditch team, which had it's own cameraderie.

Fred and George exchanged a look again and then rolled up their parchment. "We're not gits like our brother. We know about you and Snape. We figure you're trying to patch things up with him. Besides, we know you didn't ask to be put there."

"But, I joined the Quidditch team."

"We knew you were going to join. Thomas talked to Wood the day before he asked you. You're a Quidditch player. Nobody expected you to stop just because you were in another house."

"Ron did."

"And, he's a git," George repeated.

Harry scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. "Thanks."

Fred put his hand to his head and mimicked taking off a hat. Harry gave them a nod and turned to go to class.

"Harry!" George called, and he turned back. "Don't expect us to give you a free pass every game. We're Quidditch players too you know." He grinned and Harry allowed a smile to cross his face too.

Maybe all of the Gryffindors hadn't disowned him yet. It gave him hope that if in the end things didn't work out with his father, that all was not lost.

* * *

There was one week left until Christmas holiday and Harry was at 47 points. With three points to go, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. His father was going to get him a gift and he tried to think of what it might be, his mind drifting into fantasy about having a happy Christmas. If his father was going to give him a gift, then he would need to give him one in return. It took Harry three days to come up with the perfect thing. Madam Hooch had said he'd played Quidditch (a Chaser too consequently), so he must love the game like Harry did. He certainly showed up to all the matches. So Harry snuck several pieces of scrap wrapping paper away from a table where girls of all years were wrapping gifts and went back to his bed where he wrapped his Snitch. The first snitch he'd ever caught. He didn't write his name on it though. His father would know it was from him. Now he just needed an opportunity to present itself to give it to him, though maybe in secret he thought. Maybe he could just find a way to get it onto his desk.

There was a knock on his dorm door, and since he was the only one in the room at the moment, he opened it. Thomas was on the other side.

"I saw you take paper from the table."

"I didn't mean to steal it, I swear," Harry said. "I thought they were scraps they were going to throw out."

"Calm down Potter. I just wanted to know if you had anything you wanted me to give to Professor Snape. I have to go to his office in half an hour to start patrol. It's my night to go out in the corridors."

"You know I have something for him?" Harry asked skeptically.

"You don't have any friends, so I assumed you were wrapping something for him. I also heard Draco complaining about you trying to earn 50 points. Is it true?"

Harry handed him the small wrapped Snitch. "I'm at 47."

"Well, you've still got a couple days left. Do something big and rack up the points all in one go. I'll put this on his desk when he's not looking."

"Thanks." Was Thomas his friend? He'd certainly been nice enough to him.

* * *

Harry hummed a Christmas tune as he strode down the corridors two days later. He'd just earned three points from McGongall for helping up a first year Hufflepuff who'd just fallen in the hallway and scattered her books and quills everywhere. He had his 50 points and today was the last day of classes. Tonight everyone would be packing up to go home on the train, and tomorrow they'd be gone. Harry would be here though. From what he'd heard around Slytherin, most of the house would be going home, and he looked forward to having the place mostly to himself for a few weeks. Thomas would be staying and so would a few fifth and seventh years who were studying for their OWLS and NEWTS, but the second years would all be gone and Harry would have the dorm to himself. He wondered if Ron and Hermione would both be going home, but thought then that it didn't matter, becuase they weren't speaking to him and he wasn't getting a present from them or anyone else this year. Just Snape. His 50 points made sure of that.

The day passed in a flurry of students bursting into carols in the halls, teachers handing out last minute assignments and giving the students well wishes for the holidays, and an impromtu party that had broken out in Slytherin Common room. Christmas was in just a few days and Harry was more excited than he'd ever been about Christmas before.

That night, Harry lay back on his covers in bed and put his hands behind his head. For the first time in months, he had no studying to do, and no points to worry about earning. Draco opened the door to the dorm, sneered at Harry when he saw him, and left again. Pratt, Harry thought to himself. At least he had left him alone though. If only he would have been content to leave him alone the next morning too.

The other second year boys had already levitated their trunks up to the Great Hall, including Draco, and Harry had pulled a book out of his trunk to read as he sat at the desk that Draco usually reserved for himself. There were only two in the room, and since the other boys were gone, Harry didn't see an issue with sitting there since this desk was the closest to his bed.

He'd only been sitting there, reading for a few minutes when the door opened again however to reveal Draco.

"That's mine!" Draco said angrily. Harry frowned.

"I warned you Potter! I warned you not to try to come in and take over!"

Harry tried to dodge as Draco lunged at him, but there wasn't much of an option for escape since the chair back was on one side and the desk was on the other. Draco took him and the chair over backwards. Harry reached for his wand, but Draco was already hitting him in the face and Harry couldn't see to find his wand.

When it was over, Draco was panting and his hair was disheveled as he stood, blood on his knuckles.

Harry coughed and groaned. "Thought- you had- more decorum - than this."

"You'll learn," Draco spat, and then he was gone. Harry pushed himself up gingerly. The rest of him didn't feel very bad, except maybe his shoulders, but he didn't think he wanted to look at his face in a mirror. He went to his trunk and found the small hand mirror he had. His lip was swollen, and he was covered in bruises. The blood from his nose and mouth made it look worse than it was. He listened at the door to see if the hall was clear, and then went to the bathroom to wash the blood off. He hadn't had any bruise balm in weeks, so he figured it would be ok to put on after the blood was gone and his nose had stopped bleeding. The swollen lip and now swollen cheek were another matter however, something he didn't know how to take care of.

A few minutes later, after he'd done all he could do, he knocked tentatively at the seventh year boy's door. It opened to reveal a boy named Timothy. "Is Quincy in there?" Harry asked quietly, looking up at the taller boy.

Tim opened the door further so Harry could see Quincy sitting at a desk, looking over to see what was going on.

"I would get Thomas, but I think he's in the common room."

"They get you again?" Quincy asked, and motioned Harry into the room. Tim shut the door behind him and Harry tried not to feel trapped.

"Draco. I washed the blood off and put bruise balm on, but I don't know a spell for the swelling."

Quincy picked his wand up off of a bedside table and waved it, conjuring an ice pack. "There are potions, but this is the only spell I know for swelling. Ice."

Harry took it and put it up against his cheek just under his eye. He'd have to put it on his lip later. "Can you show me how to do that?"

"I thought you were going to do something about this."

"Nothing I can do. I didn't do anything last time and I still got detention for fighting and no one else did."

Tim shook his head as he and Quincy shared a look. "S'not right," Tim said. "Why don't you just tell Professor Snape what happened?"

"He never believes me," Harry said.

"Here." Quincy showed him the spell, and Harry successfully conjured another ice pack to put on his lip.

"At least you've got no one to worry about until January," Quincy said. "If you have any problems when the second years get back, come to me and I'll straighten them out."

"Thanks."

Harry left to go back to his own room, and when he'd gone, Tim turned to Quincy and said, "And he's the one who was supposed to have defeated You Know Who? Not just the one time, but last year too?"

"He can fight back. He chooses not to. Seems like a Slytherin to me."

"Slytherins don't take garbage from anybody," Tim said.

"We just wait until the time is right to get back."

* * *

The second years were gone, including Ron and Hermione, but Harry did still have someone to worry about. He kept the ice on his swollen face until he couldn't stand the cold anymore, and continued icing the injuries off and on throughout the day in between applying bruise balm, and the next day, Christmas Eve, he was able to go out again without looking like he'd been trampled by a wild animal. The bruises were still there, and his lip was split, but he didn't want to stick around in the dorm all day on Christmas eve. If anyone asked what happened to him, he could say he was on his way to the Hospital Wing. It was a good plan, or so he'd thought.

It was after lunch, and Harry was on his way to the Library, hoping to get a novel to keep him occupied for the rest of the Christmas break. Even if his father did give him flying goggles, he doubted he'd be allowed to go out flying with them, and he didn't want to be bored for the next week and a half. Mind busy thinking about the nice leather goggles he was certain he'd get, he didn't see Professor Snape approaching from the opposite direction.

"Fighting again Potter?"

Harry stopped walking and looked up, his father's features twisted into a look of disgust.

"I do not wish to be tied up administering your detentions, and I would not wish that on the other staff either, so I will be forced to take points. Thirty points from Slytherin. Ten for each detention you should be serving for refusing to stay out of trouble."

"I- I was just on my way to the Hospital Wing," Harry stammered, lifting his hand lamely in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

"And another ten points for lying to me. I should take more but I do not wish your rule breaking to damage Slytherin's chance for the house cup." Snape strode away, and didn't look back at his son's fallen shoulders. It was one day before Christmas, and he only had ten points to show for the last three months of hard work. There would be no present. He ran all the way back to Slytherin and threw himself into bed. He covered up and lay there with his stuffed bear, wishing for sleep to overtake him so he could miss Christmas altogether and not have to think about it anymore.

* * *

Harry stared at the scraps of wrapping paper and tiny square box on his bed. The dorm was empty and he knew it was early, maybe not even five yet, but he'd woken and couldn't go back to sleep. He knew he'd be getting nothing today because his friends had abandoned him and so had his father. He couldn't stand the thought of it, to feel unwanted... unloved. So he'd fished out the remaining scraps of wrapping paper in silver and green and gold and laid them on his covers with the little cardboard box that once held the first Snitch he'd ever caught. The Snitch he'd given to his father as a Christmas present days ago.

"Man up," he said to himself quietly, voice flat, trying to motivate himself to wrap it already. If he could just pretend like someone cared, then he could make it through this day. If he couldn't pretend that... he paused. He didn't like to think about what would happen to him if he couldn't even pretend that someone cared. He closed the lid of the Snitch sized box and carefully wrapped it in the scraps of paper. There was just enough that if he put them edge to edge and taped them tightly, they wraped the box. He looked around the room and spied a crumpled bow on the floor next to Blaise's wardrobe and went to pick it up. He used the last piece of tape he had and attached the smashed bow to the top of his present.

"Look Harry, it's a Christmas present," he said flatly again. He tried to smile but the pain in his eye and lip reminded him that he had no reason to, so he stopped trying.

"It's not in orange so it's not from Ron," he said to himself, sitting it on top of his trunk. "And Hermione would wrap it in blue or red so it's not from her. I wonder who it could be from." He felt foolish as he sat there on his bed and looked down at the small empty gift. He stared at it until his stomach grumbled and then got dressed and picked up the gift, putting it into a pocket. "Don't want to open this up in this dark dreary room. I bet it's something nice. Best to open it in a room with light." That ruled out the common room. He thought of Gryffindor tower and about what his Christmas had been like there last year and his throat clenched. He couldn't go up there either. He made his way through the empty common room and out into the quiet castle. It was barely six thirty. He smelled food comming from the Great Hall already, but he didn't want to go in there. He would see other students and staff looking happy and would be reminded that his smile was fake. He didn't want that.

He climbed up through the castle and decided not to go to the library because the high shelves blocked out much of the natural light from the windows. Eventually he ended up at the stairs to the North Attic. Having found no other suitable place, Harry climbed the stairs, pulled down the trap door in the ceiling, and went up the short ladder. It was dusty inside, but there was a little window in the roof that allowed light to pour in through the dust and cob webs. Eyes scanning the quiet place, Harry sat down in the center of the cluttered floor, boxes and furniture piled high around him, and set the box in front of him.

"Merry Christmas Harry," he said to himself, but he couldn't bring himself to open the box knowing it was empty. It would be too much dissapointment for him to handle. So instead he just stared at it, trying to make himself believe there was something special inside... something just for him. If he could just believe it then he would be all right.

* * *

Thomas knocked on his Head of House's office door. It was after lunch now and he was starting to get worried about Harry. Quincy had told him that Harry had been beaten up again by Draco but he'd been unable to find him this morning to check up on him. He wasn't in the Hospital Wing either and hadn't shown up to breakfast or lunch.

"Come in."

Turning the knob, Thomas pushed the door open and found Professor Snape sitting behind his desk.

"What is it Thomas?"

He closed the door and scanned the small office, not certain why he expected Harry to be there.

"I can't find Harry sir. He was gone this morning and he hasn't been to any meals."

"He will turn up when he is hungry."

"He was in bad shape though. I looked in the Hospital Wing and he wasn't there either."

The man's obsidian eyes came up to meet the sixth year Prefect's. "Explain."

"Well Draco Malfoy knocked the stuffing out of him a couple of nights ago. His face was all swollen and Quincy gave him ice for it, but he could have been hurt somewhere else too. Madam Pomfrey said he hasn't been in to see her."

"I saw him last night near the library and he seemed fine." Though secretly Severus thought that the boy had lied to him, telling him he was on his way to the Hospital Wing and then not going there directly. Severus looked up at Thomas, who looked like he wanted to say something but seemed uncertain.

"Was there something else?"

"I only wondered sir," he started, but then paused. It really wasn't his place to ask. Most of the school had heard by now that Professor Snape was Harry's father, but with the way he treated the second year, most didn't believe it. Thomas was certain it was true though.

"Yes?"

"Since we can't find Harry anywhere, I wondered when you were going to give him his present sir."

"What present would that be?"

"The one he earned for getting 50 points by Christmas."

"Mr. Potter did not earn 50 points. He lost 30 points last night for fighting and 10 for cheek." He watched as Thomas seemed to be fighting with himself then. The boy was acting very odd. Generally Thomas Ivory was even tempered, mild mannered, respectful, and responsible. Severus could see that something was about to break though as the boy turned his head slightly so he wasn't looking at his Professor, and flexed his fists.

"Mr. Ivory?"

"You're such a bastard." Thomas' voice was low and full of anger, and Severus wondered if he would have been shouting if he had not happened to be a Professor and the teen's head of house.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no idea do you?" He shook his head and it looked as though he was biting his tongue to keep further outbursts from spilling forth.

"Mr. Ivory, because I know the kind of student and Prefect you are, I am willing to overlook your prior outburst. You have under a minute to explain yourself before my patience runs out however."

"You heard me," Thomas said, turning back to look at his Professor. Severus was surprised to see something akin to fire in his eyes. "All you've been to Harry is a bastard. The hat puts him in Slytherin, probably because he asked to be closer to you, and you tell him not to make waves, not to bother you with anything. So he gets beat up every weekend by the second year boys who jump him after curfew. And he gets beat up all week long in between classes. He never says a word because you told him not to lose points and not to bother you with anything. So he poisons himself with bruise balm trying to cover it all up so he can go to classes and see his friends. His friends- oh...." he paused, trying to reign in his temer. "His friends abandoned him because he decided to earn house points for Slytherin. Not because he wanted to be part of Slytherin, or win the house cup, but because he wanted a present from his father. He wanted to prove to you that he was worth your time and attention. But you don't give him that do you? You give him detentions for fighting when he does anything but fight back, and you take away points he's tried to earn all term on Christmas Eve! So now, not only did he choose you over his friends, so now he gets no presents from his friends, but he doesn't even get a present from you either." By the end of his tirade he seemed to have burned himself out, but was still visibly angry.

"Do not let him fool you Thomas. He is pampered. He has family who will send him presents."

"You mean the family that didn't send him presents this year? I checked and he didn't get anything. Or was it the family that lets him go to school with holey shoes and no toothbrush or toothpaste? Or maybe it's the family that lets him walk around in ripped up clothes?" Thomas looked at Severus and Severus was surprised at the look of disgust on the 16 year olds face. Not many people had the audacity or courage to tell Severus exactly what they thought of him, and he'd never yet known a student to look on him with disgust.

"I always thought highly of you Professor. But your kid gives you a Christmas present, probably the only thing that even matters to him that he owns, and you go out of your way to make sure he has the worst Christmas ever. Or the worst school year." He shook his head and made a hasty escape out the office door, leaving it open behind him.

Mind running as Severus tried to control his own anger at the teen's outburst, he tried to sort through the myriad of information that had just been spewed out at him. The boy had no toothbrush? He knew the child had less than adequate clothing because he'd seen it. And he hadn't gotten any presents at all? Where were the presents from his aunt and uncle? And what was this about a present from the boy? All he'd gotten this year was a present from Draco, a fine gold pen, and a Snitch from Thomas... or a strangely wrapped Snitch that Thomas had left on his desk. A present with no name. He'd wondered at the time that the sixteen year old had wrapped it in what appeared to be scraps of paper and that he'd not written his name so he could take credit for the gift.

Severus opened his desk drawer and examined the golden Snitch more closely. It was definitely used and had smudges all over it, as though someone had held or played with it often. Could this have been from Harry? Why would he even give him a gift? He was certain the boy hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. Had the child not made his disgust for having him as a father clear at the start of the term? Severus closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory of Potter and Weasley sitting in his office after he caught them flying to school. Minerva had tried to send a letter to the boy's 'closest living relative', a spell sometimes used to send fast messages in times of emergency, and the letter had vanished only to pop up on Severus' lap a moment later.

If the Snitch was from Harry, why a Snitch? Thomas may have been right, it could have been the child's most treasured possession, especially if it was the first Snitch he'd ever caught, though he doubted it was his most treasured item. The child has a fast racing broom after all, and an invisibility cloak from James Potter. Both items were more expensive than any gift Severus had ever gotten as a child or as an adult.

"Point me Harry Potter." His wand vibrated in his wand sleeve and he pulled it out and held it firmly as the tip pointed upwards. He was going to get to the bottom of this. Half of what Thomas said couldn't have been true, and he wanted to know how Potter had wrapped the usually intelligent sixth year around his little finger so quickly.

* * *

Harry hugged his knees in the attic, feeling chilled. He wished he had a blanket to keep warm as he sat and stared at his gift. If I look at it long enough, he told himself, there will be something inside. He wished it were true and that reality could just melt away from him, but that didn't stop him from crying presently, or every once in a while throughout the long hours he'd spent there this Christmas day. No, Harry knew that in reality, wishes were never enough, because they never came true. He'd wished on too many stars lying on the grass in the backyard of Four Privet Drive after getting locked out of the house. He'd wished too many times to be normal, and wanted, and to have the basic things he needed to keep going. Hogwarts had seemed like an answer to that wish last year, but this year, at this particular moment, it seemed very much like just another big disappointment.

There was a creaking noise and Harry startled as the trap door in the floor lifted opened ten feet away and Professor Snape's head appeared, looking around in the dimming light of the attic. Harry hugged his knees tighter as he stared at the present and rocked gently. Oh no. I'm in trouble now. I'm going to get it. I'm all alone up here and I've done something wrong. Mind frantic he let his wet eyes glaze over as he stared at the package. He was aware after some time that the Professor had taken a seat on the dusty floor next to him, but he wasn't sure how long it had been before he'd noticed and didn't know why he wasn't being yelled at yet.

Finally, Snape spoke and Harry was unsure why the man was so quiet and calm. "What is in the package?"

Harry rocked some more and cleared his throat so he could speak. "It's a wonderful present."

"What is it?"

Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve, now dirty as it had been used this way all day. "It's what I've always wanted."

"Why have you not opened it?"

Harry struggled then not to let more hot tears spill forth. He'd be in trouble if he did, he just knew it. He bit his lip to keep it from quivering and swallowed hard. "Because there's nothing in there. I tried to pretend, but I couldn't."

"Someone gave you an empty present?"

"I wrapped it. I never get Christmas presents. Except for last year, when I was still a Gryffindor." He swallowed again and put his face down in his arms. The darkness was comforting, and unlike the present, he could almost pretend that he was back in his cupboard, and that he was not there in this situation with Professor Snape, whom he still wasn't sure when he would start yelling. Actually, he'd felt like he was in his cupboard since he'd arrived in the attic. It was quiet and dusty and cramped, and he was alone. Snape was there now though and he couldn't get that feeling of security back.

"Does your face hurt?"

Harry stiffened then and stopped rocking. "No sir."

"It is still very bruised."

"I fell."

Thomas' words intermingled with Harry's words from the Hospital Wing weeks ago and haunted Severus then as he relived them at the same time in his mind, something that sometimes happened to those accomplished in the art of Occlumency.

'All you've been to Harry is a bastard. The hat puts him in Slytherin, probably because he asked to be closer to you, and you tell him not to make waves, not to bother you with anything. So he gets beat up every weekend by the second year boys who jump him after curfew.' 'You told me to lie. You told me not to lose any house points. You told me not to cause trouble. You told me not to complain to you unless it was life or death. If I tell you the truth, I do all three of those things.' And then his own voice floated into the intermingled memories as well. 'Insolent brat.' ... 'Yeah that's me.' 'Fighting again Potter... I shall be forced to take points...'

Severus cleared his throat. Perhaps he had been the insolent one. The foolish one. "As I understand it, Draco Malfoy and the other boys have been cornering you in the dormitories and hurting you."

"Fell," came Harry's muffled reply again.

"I see. I wish to ammend my previous statement to you about your time in Slytherin. If there is trouble in our house, I wish to hear about it immediately, regardless of if it is a life or death situation. You are not causing trouble by telling the truth, or by comming to me about issues you are experiencing. Asking to have your needs met is not being coddled, it is required as a Slytherin. These things are also required as my son."

Harry tilted his head sideways to peek at the Potions Master and green eyes met obsidian. Had the man just told Harry to come to him if he needed help? No one had done that before. Madam Hooch had come the closest with giving him a place to just be himself. He'd also been told to tell the truth and told that he wouldn't get in trouble for it. Did that mean Draco and the others would get in trouble for hurting him or that he could finally fight back? And there was something about his needs being met too... as his son.

He stared at the mismatched wrapped present on the floor in front of him and finally reached out to take it. He pulled the smashed bow off the top and pulled the paper off. It wasn't empty inside, but to Severus it appeared that way.

"I thought you said it was empty."

"I said it was what I always wanted. I was right," and Harry wondered then why he was smiling and if it was because he had believed and wished it were true for so long, that it had actually become true. He turned and handed the box to his father who took it and stared inside.

"I didn't fall," Harry said, "I couldn't fight back because I knew I'd get in trouble for it. I always get in trouble for fighting back, even at the Dursleys. Draco came in and I was sitting in the desk chair. He tackled me and pinned me to the ground and told me he was going to teach me a lesson and I'd better learn it." Harry spoke clearly and candidly about his time in Slytherin up to this point, including how kind Thomas, Quincy, and Timothy had been and about what his friends thought of him, and how they thought he was horrible for wanting something for himself. As Severus continued to stare into the box he told him about how he felt like he was betraying the only people who had ever accepted him, and had recently found out that they had never really accepted him at all, and how that stung to know that he was not allowed to ever be normal and have people who cared about him. The people he currently counted as friends was a surprising five people. The Weasley twins, Thomas, Quincy, and Madam Hooch, who had told him that around her, he was free to be himself. Severus' own heart stung as his son spoke and finally quieted after nearly twenty minutes. He was still staring into the box, trying to understand how Harry had suddenly found a gift inside though it was empty. Something that he had always wanted.

"Harry-" Severus said, throat tight, box still in hand. "What is in the box?"

"You are."

"Me?" No one could conceivably want Severus Snape for Christmas, nor ever. It was not a part of his reality and Severus tilted his head realizing that he had often felt much the same way that Harry had just described to him: completely alone.

Harry reached down to the floor and picked up the smashed bow. Severus watched as the boy seemed hesitant with the bow in hand. Suddenly as if making up his mind, he reached forward and put the bow on top of Severus shoulder where it perched precariously because the sticky had long since worn off the bottom of it.

"I am in the box?"

Harry gave a single nod, still looking uncertain. What had he to even offer the boy? A run down house in London that was full of cobwebs? Security. A more often than not foul demeanor? The basic neccessities of life. A propensity to see the worst in people? Eyes that had been opened to Harry's true nature and the ability to let him be himself (if he worked very hard to let him be). A past as a death eater who couldn't get a job at the Ministry if he tried? Protection. The mindset obtained from being alone for nearly all forty five years of his life? Understanding.

"If I am your Christmas gift, then you are mine," Severus said, finally looking from the box to Harry. Harry seemed startled by his statement and watched him with wide eyes as he stood up and held his hand down to him to help him up as well. "I apologize for taking your points away from you and for treating you as I have. There is no excuse for that and I have been a deplorable excuse for a teacher or parent. Especially today." Harry's stomach grumbled in an embarassing way then and Severus pulled up the trap door in the floor. "See, I have neglected to feed you a Christmas meal. I believe the feast will be starting soon, but you can't go looking like that." He lead the way down the ladder and Harry followed. Severus lead him back to the dungeons and into his office where he pulled a tin of bruise balm out, asked Harry how much he'd had of it in the last week, and then applied it gently to the bruises on his face. Harry watched his dark eyes as he tended his injuries and was quiet until his father was done.

"You look presentable now. Do you wish to attend the feast?"

Harry gave a single nod and Severus closed the several jars of balms and potions he'd opened to heal Harry's wounds. The boy's hair was still a mess and he had circles under his eyes, but he had promised him food and didn't want to send the child to bed without a proper Christmas meal.

They walked up to the Great Hall in silence and sat down together at Slytherin table next to Thomas who looked oddly satisfied (Harry wondered why) and Quincy and Timothy. The four house tables and staff table had been reduced to two and Harry hungrily piled food onto his plate as Thomas started to ask him about Quidditch and the astronomy professor jumped in on the conversation.

That night as his father walked him back to the Slytherin dorms and made sure that Harry got inside, Harry thought that despite the start of the day, Christmas hadn't been so bad after all. That tiny square box ended up having the best gift of all. Harry didn't know what his family would be like, or what it would be like growing up with this new and oddly improved version of Severus Snape, but he did know he no longer had such an aching wish to fulfill. He lay in bed in the darkness, face healed and as he drifted off he thought to himself, the hat was right. It is a different kind of love, when you really need someone.

* * *

Harry James Potter Snape walked down the corridor on the first day of the new term. He still had Slytherin green robes on, only now he also had new shoes without holes, and new warm clothes on as well underneath them. His books rode around on his shoulder in a new leather book bag with a leather strap, and best of all, he had a smile on his bruise free face. His body felt good and he wasn't worried about any of the Slytherins trying to hurt him anymore. Draco had come back to the dorms two hours later than the rest of the students on the night they had returned on the train, complaining to Crabbe about being yelled at for over an hour, and the next day the rest of the second year boys had been called in to get their turn being chastised. It felt so good to have an adult on his side... a parent.

"Hey Harry, nice bag!" Fred said as he and George passed by. Harry turned and grinned and George said, "but what happened to your hair? Did a monster eat it?" They disappeared around a corner on their way to class and Harry laughed. His father had insisted on cutting it and to Harry's dismay had pulled out a Muggle style electric razor that ran on magic. When all was said and done though, he was happy with his new, shorter haircut. He didn't have to do much to it in the morning and he felt different with it this way, cleaner somehow and like he was ready to take on the world in a different way, or at least the school.

Harry sat down in Charms and pulled his Charms book out and was surprised when Hermione sat down next to him and Ron on her other side. He turned in time to see Hermione's shocked face. "Harry? Is that you?"

"I think so." Ron leaned forward to look and his eyes widened in surprise.

"But your hair-" Hermione trailed off.

"My dad cut it for me. It looks nice right?" Her eyes traveled his bruise free face and his eyes, now without the dark circles underneath. Ron seemed to be looking at Harry's new bag and the new quills he had.

"P- Professor Snape did that?"

"He said it was better short. He was right. Look, he fixed my glasses too. I can see now because they're the right prescription."

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry was interested in their expressions. They didn't seem angry... more confused.

Finally Hermione said, "You look good Harry."

He smiled. He felt good, and it was nice to feel that way for the first time in so long.

 

 

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Afterward

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exercised a tentative friendship for a few weeks after the new term started, and were soon inseperable again. Ron and Hermione upon seeing how happy and well taken care of Harry was after the break, realized that it was not wrong for Harry to try to do what he had to do to gain a parent (and Harry suspected the twins had told his two friends as much). After the Christmas holiday, Draco and the other second year Slytherin boys were all given a reprimand on their permanent record and had letters sent home. They served several weeks of detention and Draco was moved to the second string Quidditch team because of his misconduct, though Harry did not take up Seeker again until his third year because he enjoyed the new challenge of playing Chaser. At the end of the year, when Quincy graduated, Thomas was given the new position of Head Boy, and he made certain that there was no abuse or bullying in Slytherin house until he graduated. Like the one previous student in Hogwarts history who had been resorted, Harry remained in his new house and never went back to Gryffindor, though he maintained close friendships with many Gryffindors, and eventually married one. He became a Prefect and served next to Ron and Hermione as Prefects in their fifth through seventh years. After many years in Slytherin, Harry and Draco did eventually set their differences aside and became friends. Severus took good care of Harry, and was always there for him. In turn, Harry was always there for Severus. Each Christmas after second year, they always gave each other an empty box amongst their other gifts to each other. They always considered each other, the best gift one could have.

The End.