After holding his gaze for a long while, Snape finally turned away from Harry’s half challenging, half pleading green eyes.
”Speak!” said Snape. Harry drew a deep breath. Involuntarily, he took a step forward.
”I remember her,” he said intently. ”Everyone believes that I was too young to have any memories of her, but I do - vivid memories. No visual ones - but I remember her love. I remember how it felt to be held, to put my head on her shoulder. I remember her scent, her warmth and how her hair felt in my hands. I remember her voice. And I always knew that I was loved. Yes, I was different from the Dursley’s and they excluded me from their family life, but I knew I had something of my own.” Harry spoke in an intent, reverent tone of voice. Snape swallowed hard. He had started to tremble slightly in his hands.
”How is it possible?” he said hoarsely.
”I remember her,” insisted Harry. ”There was a magicked blanket that was left with me. It helped me keep my memories alive, I think. I had it with me all the time in my cupboard. It would comfort me, it would help me feel her love. I could even hear her sing,” Harry said quietly.
”Do you still have it?” asked Snape after a pause. He looked strangely resigned. Harry cleared his throat.
”The magic wore off successively. And I grew better at comforting myself, I guess. By my tenth birthday the magic was gone and I did feel kind of lonely that year, but then Hagrid came for me on my eleventh birthday and I was brought to Hogwarts and… since then the school and all the magic I learnt filled that void instead.The blanket is just a blanket now… I didn’t bring it when I left the Dursleys. Not of the utmost necessity when you go hunting for Horcruxes… Although now I wish I could get it back, but I don’t have the heart to visit them…” explained Harry. They stayed silent for a long while, each of them leaning against a desk. There was no tension, no embarrassment between them any longer, only quiet musings.
”What can I do for you, Mr Potter?” Snape suddenly asked. Harry jerked his head up and stared at his teacher in confusion.
”Listen, you don’t have to do anything at all… I don’t need your pity, really… and I’m okay. It happened a long time ago,” Harry said defiantly.
Snape continued to look at him without uttering a word.
”Would you… would you speak to me about her?” Harry suddenly asked in a small voice. ”It would mean a lot to me to be able to talk to someone who knew her. All the others are gone…”
Snape still stared impassively at Harry who swallowed.
”I can’t make you, of course… You don’t have to…” Harry regretted exposing his most fervent wish. This was probably not what Snape had wanted him to ask. He had better offer something inoffensive instead. ”What if you would call me Harry? That would be nice. Most of the teachers who have known me for almost seven years do that out of class,” babbled Harry, ready to let the sensitive subject of Lily Evans go. Snape narrowed his eyes.
”Still not expecting much, are you… Harry?” he said.
Harry looked back at him uncertainly.
”I have letters that Lily wrote to me. She was a faithful and witty correspondent. I’ll let you read some of them…” said Snape slowly.
Harry’s eyes started to shine but there was still a disbelieving streak in them.
”…One letter every Christmas. Maybe that will teach you to expect something out of this holiday.” Snape’s voice had hardened and Harry pulled a surprised, wary face.
”Why on earth would you…?” he started to say. Snape waved his hand dismissively and shook his head.
”I’m only joking, Mr Po… Harry. I don’t like the idea that you fulfil the requirements of that Christmas Enchantment. I don’t like the implications of it at all. I guess I never will be able to change the fact that you do, though… But for the letters, I have more than fifty of them. At the rate of reading them one a year… Why would I tie you up to me for that lengthy period of time?” Snape coloured the least little bit. ”I realise it would be dreadful to you. Don’t worry, I’ll let you read them as time goes by. We’ll have gone through them before the close of next term.” Snape tried to sound reassuring but Harry still looked doubtful and confused.
”Will you explain some things to me? Answer my questions?” ventured Harry. Snape sighed.
”I suppose you will need to be put into the context of those letters. I will do my best to accommodate you,” said Snape.
Harry smiled tentatively.
”And I will pay Petunia Dursley a visit,” said Snape grimly.
Harry’s mouth fell open.
”…not only to retrieve your blanket for you, but to search Lily’s things for my responses to her letters. She might have kept them. It all belongs to you, however, now that you’re of age and Petunia has ceased to be your guardian. I’ll only ask you to let me read them in advance,” continued Snape.
”But of course! I’ll give you those letters if you find them in the attic at Privet Drive - they are yours. You chose which ones I’ll be allowed to read,” Harry hastened to say, not believing his sour Potions Master had changed so drastically, suddenly ready to give up his privacy so generously. ”And I don’t think it’s dreadful to talk to you, Professor,” insisted Harry, ”…not any longer. You’ve been correct to me this term, really. And ever since I learnt that you were my mother’s friend, I wanted to approach you, I just didn’t know how.”
”You may call me Severus outside the classroom, Harry,” said Snape softly. ”And in the light of this… er… enlightening Christmas exchange between us, I hope we might move beyond the notion of correctness. It would be preferable indeed, since… er… I intend to give you a piece of advice on your relationship with Miss Weasley.” Snape suddenly looked defiant.
”You intend to do what…?” Harry almost choked on his words, bewildered. ”What! About Ginny?”
”Hmm… yes, Minerva made me realise… But not now, I think, though,” said Snape, unperturbed by Harry’s reaction. ”You don’t have the time. Her charming brother is waiting for you no doubt and the Arithmancy class of Miss Granger has come to an end. Just let me say that Miss Weasley is not unlike your mother in many aspects. Lively, spirited and adventurous. Now that is charming, I’m sure, but it might lead her astray and if you don’t want to repeat the same mistakes that I once did…”
Harry looked curiously at Snape. This had been a sensitive subject for so long with Snape. The teacher had snapped the head off whoever tried to approach the subject of his faithful love for Lily Evans. Harry had thought that the experience was too painful for the Potions Master to talk about and Harry had lost hope of ever bringing himself to breach the subject. Right now however, Snape seemed to allude to it without turning a hair, as if this conversation with Harry had made Snape determined to ignore all previous inhibitions on the subject merely out of will-power. The former Death Eater was indeed a strange and intriguing personality, Harry thought to himself. It took the edge of his own indignation at Snape’s interfering with his love life. Moreover he had to acknowledge that his relationship with Ginny was not without complications, but what on earth could Snape have to say about it? Harry inclined his head to the side in puzzlement and let Snape go on.
”You realise, I hope, that you can never coerce or restrain a woman like Miss Weasley? Not that I think you would do such a thing. You have a much gentler disposition than I did at your age. Not likely to desert her out of hurt pride either, are you?”
Snape’s words made Harry wonder vaguely what might have passed between his mother and the young man Snape had once been. He knitted his eyebrows.
”No, I believe the greatest danger to your union with Miss Weasley is a slight passivity on your side, born, no doubt, from your lack of expectations in life,” continued Snape.
Lily had fallen in love with James - it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? thought Harry. But what had been a matter of cause during his childhood suddenly struck him as over-simplistic. The few clues Snape had let slip pointed in a more complex direction. What if…?
”Are you paying attention, Mr Potter?” barked Snape.
Harry’s head snapped up.
”I was saying that you will need to be perseverant and explicit with Miss Weasley.”
Harry blinked.
”There is no need for self-effacement on your side - it would merely back-fire on you, believe me. It is of the utmost importance that you bring yourself to show the young lady the full extent of your hopes and expectations.”
Harry swallowed.
”Now, you will probably do just fine. However, seeing there is no one else to guide you, I’m afraid that I have no choice but to offer myself for the task of spurring you on in life.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
”I believe Lily would have wanted you to have someone to turn to. Now you might not be particularly inclined to listen to me and that’s why I offer those letters in exchange for your attention. Maybe you’ll learn as time goes by that I have your best interests in mind.” Snape spoke with determination and a sparkle of challenge in his voice.
”Maybe I already know that…” Harry responded softly. ”Does it occur to you, Professor… er… Severus, that I might chose to listen to you of my own free will and out of interest?”. Red spots appeared on Snape’s cheeks and the Potions Master had to clear his voice before he continued.
”I will bring you the first letters to the Burrow during the holiday, Po… Harry,” said Snape.
”You’ll visit at Ron’s?” Harry looked surprised.
”I am invited,” clarified Snape. ”As Minerva’s escort on Boxing day. The Weasleys want to get the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix together. Even if I were able to say no to Molly Weasley, I cannot deny the headmistress anything these days, or she will take it personally…” he added with irony.
Harry grinned.
”Now you had better go,” said Snape.
Harry knew his friends were waiting for him by now, but he seemed to have difficulties tearing away from the stern professor who had been his mother’s friend and who, after years of dissembling, finally seemed to give him some recognition. Reluctantly Harry started to move towards the door.
”I’ll see you soon then, Severus,” he said over his shoulder. ”I’m looking forward to it! And I wish you a Merry Christmas, Professor!” There was a flash in Snape’s eyes.
”Potter, I don’t do Christmas!… Hmm… Merlin! I guess I do now. Old habits do die, sometimes.” Snape shook his head at himself. ”Merry Christmas, Harry!” There was a mildness in his deep voice that approached affection.