Chapter 1 – Set the Scene

Severus studied the letter in front of him. Folded and refolded many times, crumpled, scrunched, smoothed, frayed, the flimsy piece of muggle paper was battered and already falling apart despite having only received it a month ago.

He had received letters such as this many times over the years, but he had managed to talk himself out of it on each occasion, bought himself more time. Delayed the inevitable. Now it seemed he had pushed his luck as far as he could.

All the lies he had told and the falsehoods were coming back to bite him in the backside. He had already replied to it within days of receiving it, as a matter of fact. Something he regretted almost immediately but knew he couldn’t avoid the issue forever.

Severus had no family willing to do so much as to acknowledge him from his mother’s side. The Prince’s had disowned Eileen, and that was that as far as they were concerned. Severus had no love for either of his parents; Tobias was an abusive bastard who drank himself to death, and good riddance as far as Severus was concerned. Eileen was a neglectful mother who struggled to survive in the muggle world, despite living in it for the sixteen years she was married to his father. She’d been run down by a car when Severus was sixteen.

That left him with no one. Or so he’d thought. Then Nana Bea took him in. He’d seen Nana Bea once a year until he was twelve, and then nothing. But Nana Bea continued to send him birthday and Christmas presents in the form of money, not that he got to keep it. If his father didn’t drink it, his mother used it to buy expensive something of whatever caught her fancy, still not knowing how to budget muggle money. Severus had practically raised himself in that house.

After he was left orphaned at sixteen, Nana Bea took him in. Widowed and living alone, with very little money, the woman hadn’t hesitated to offer her home to him. In fact, until he began living with her, he hadn’t even known he had an Aunt Teresa or Uncle Zachary. He knew they blamed his mother for keeping Tobias and Severus away from them. They were not wrong. And then they found Severus was just as secretive as his parents. They were muggles. He couldn’t reveal that he was a wizard. Hiding his heritage had been difficult whilst living with Nana Bea. Besides lying to her about being a wizard, life with Nana Bea was uncomplicated. He’d lost his one true friend in Lily after losing his temper and calling her … that name.

Nana Bea readily accepted that he went to a prestigious school for the gifted. She’d been proud when he showed the forged exam results for his O-levels, the muggle equivalent. And then his A- levels. His muggle family thought he had a muggle degree in Chemistry, which was close enough to Potions that he could talk about it to them. On the rare occasions he met up with them, that is.

He read the letter yet again.

… Nana Bea won’t admit anything’s wrong, Severus. You know how stubborn she can be… I’m terrified. I think she is as well. She just won’t say. She wants the whole family together this Christmas …Please, can you talk to your ex? Surely, you can bring your son this one time for Nana's sake. None of us has met him yet. It would mean so much to Nana…

Cousin Jacqueline moved on to the topic of her children. She was the mother to twin boys, Brian and Andrew, and a daughter named Maya. Severus didn’t particularly care about them. He had no fondness for children in general.

In Cousin Jacqueline's letter, only two things were important: Nana Bea’s failing health and the not-so-subtle request to meet his son. Severus didn’t have a son, though his muggle family thought he did. And, if the letter was to be believed, Nana Bea was sick, and it was serious. Tellingly, any subsequent letters did not mention the sickness, and any missives he sent enquiring about her health were full of meaningless platitudes and how she seemed to be improving.

His muggles relatives were not subtle people. But they were the kind of people who downplayed their problems. Too proud to ask for help. Severus had an ongoing financial battle with Nana Bea. He sent her money, deposited directly into her building society account, which she stuffed into an envelope with some extra and tried to hand back for Christmas and birthday. Ridiculous woman. However, what made him feel guilty was when she gave him presents for his “son”. Presents he’d hidden away, out of sight. Reminding him of his lies and how she carefully selected something generic but meaningful that boys would enjoy. With money she could barely afford.

It was a farce Severus should have put an end to years ago. It was a farce he should never have begun. All he wanted to do was have her stop worrying about him. All his other cousins were married and had children. She only wanted the same for him. Wanted him to be happy.

So he lied. Told Nana Bea he loved a woman once. How she broke his heart and left him. Married another man. Had a child with him. Then Severus found out the child was really his, but she refused to let him see his son. So, as far as his family knew, he was embroiled in a bitter custody battle for his non-existent son.

Severus only groaned out loud because he knew he was alone. What had he done? Where was he supposed to produce a teenage son from?

Still, he had some time to try and talk his way out of bringing his fictitious son to the Snape Christmas Gathering. Perhaps, if Nana Bea’s health improved, Severus could get away with coming alone for Christmas.

The bell for the start of the lesson rang, and Severus shoved the letter into a locked drawer, securing it with a tap of his wand. Time to take out his frustrations on a hapless Longbottom. The sooner that boy was gone from his Potions lessons, the better. Him and that blasted Potter.

ooOoo

Harry read the notice board with dismay.

“I’ll ask my mum and dad,” Ron was saying. “You can come to the Burrow for Christmas. They won’t say no.”

Harry nodded, feeling a little hopeful. Christmas at the Burrow would be a hundred times better than Christmas at the Dursleys. At the Dursleys, his relatives would do everything they could to make him feel unwelcome while taking advantage by making him do all the chores and cooking. He’d be worked to the bone, expecting to have everything done to Petunia’s ridiculous standards, which she set only for him. He’d be forced to make all the meals, including the Christmas dinner, which, if he was lucky, he might get scraps of. On top of all that, his trunk would be locked away, and he would have to sneak his homework into his bedroom and under covers by way of a torch.  There’d be less opportunity to pick the locks on his cupboard during the Christmas holidays than during summer.

That is, if they would even allow him through the door after what happened with Aunt Marge.

It had not been a great year, to be quite honest. Sirius Black was after his blood, having broken into the Gryffindor tower only a month ago during Halloween, forcing all students to spend the night in the Great Hall. Dementors were making everyone miserable to the point several students had been pulled out of school in protest. Harry was not allowed to go to Hogsmeade because of Black (never mind that the Durselys hadn’t signed his permission slip). His Patronus lessons were going miserably, and Harry had yet to produce more than a wisp. Even that drained him if he tried to hold it longer than a minute – that is when Lupin didn’t cancel the lessons, as he seemed to fall ill more often than not.  Dementors had swarmed the pitch during the last Quidditch match, resulting in Gryffindor losing against Hufflepuff, and the strong winds had blown his Nimbus 2000 into the Whomping Willow when he’d fallen off his broom.

In a fight against the Whomping Willow, his broom had lost resoundingly and been smashed to pieces, and Harry felt like he had lost a friend.  

And to top it all off, Harry and his friends were trying to save Buckbeak from being executed because Draco sodding Malfoy couldn’t follow simple instructions and got hurt. The bloody ponce was still milking his injury using his father's influence. Harry had suffered much worse injuries and would never get away with half of what Malfoy was allowed to get away with within Snape’s class.

And now, Dumbledore was shutting down the castle for Christmas. After the Quidditch match, the Ministry and Dumbledore had been hounded by letters and howlers from concerned parents, refusing to let their children back to school unless the Ministry removed the Dementors. Harry knew they were only here because Sirius Black was after him. 

Dumbledore had been against having the Dementors in the school anyway, and though Harry had been too busy to see it, being unconscious after falling from his beloved broom, Ron and Hermione told him the Headmaster had been furious. With the parents’ support behind him, which also meant his Pureblood voters, Fudge had been forced by Dumbledore to remove the Dementors from the school. In return, the Headmaster had negotiated for the Ministry to pay to upgrade the wards around the school.

That brought Harry to his current predicament. Upgrading the wards meant the castle had to be fully vacated. All students had to return home during the Christmas holidays. That meant Christmas with the Dursleys. A miserable Christmas with the Dursleys. A miserable Christmas with the Dursleys full of pain and hunger, after which he would return to Hogwarts with a physical reminder of how much the Dursleys appreciated his company.

His back ached just thinking about it. He shivered in memory of the belt his uncle liked to use.

ooOoo

“Is my life a joke to you?” Severus asked, questioning his life choices. This included the decision to befriend a not-hilarious Lucius Malfoy and his equally not-hilarious wife, Narcissa. He was also wondering how to go about disowning his godson because Draco was undoubtedly not endearing himself to Severus either.

Looking at Lucius, he realised that if the other wizard didn’t stop laughing, something he wouldn’t do in public, Severus had excellent blackmail material. Perhaps Dumbledore would let him borrow his Pensieve. The Headmaster must know a way to photograph memories from the Pensieve. Photographs, which Severus would accidentally leave lying about, perhaps in the doorways of several shops in Knockturn Alley that Lucius liked to frequent. Maybe, even litter them around Gringotts. And Draco could certainly lose some respect within the Slytherin Common room if pictures of him cuddling his toy dragon begin to circulate – from the summer. Narcissa was harder to blackmail, but Severus would think of something eventually.

Severus waited impatiently for them to collect themselves. Luckily, they were in a private room in the Three Broomsticks, which Lucius and Severus set up so many wards with it would take a Cursebreaker to get through.

“How did you get yourself in this predicament, Severus?” Narcissa asked semi-sombrely, having sobered up first.

“My grandmother wanted to see me settled down and start a family. A family was the last thing I wanted. She tried to set me up with the vapidest women I’ve ever met; Circe knows where she was finding them. So, to finally get her off my back, I told her I was recovering from a broken heart and trying to get my son back from a harpy of an ex-girlfriend,” Severus explained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Narcissa knows many eligible witches if you want to be set up,” Lucius laughed.  

“It is not a witch I am looking for,” Severus said through gritted teeth. “It is a son I can present as my own.”

Lucius burst into a fit of laughter once more. Severus sighed wearily. He needed to find new friends. Dumbledore had been just as unhelpful when Severus presented his dilemma to the Supreme Mugwump.

He reached for his tea, wishing it was Firewhiskey instead, but unfortunately, he was on patrol duty when he got back to the castle. As much as he would love to get sozzled and wake up after Christmas - after the madness had ended, he was too responsible to let that happen.

“Oh, Severus,” Narcissa sighed, shaking her head in amusement, reaching for her teacup.

Draco ended his fit of giggles with difficulty. Before the brat could open his mouth to no doubt make an ill-advised joke, Severus picked up a scone and stuffed it into the boy’s mouth.

“Have a scone, Draco,” Severus told him, practically choking the boy.

He ignored the indignant look his godson aimed at him.

“Draco could fill the role for the day,” Lucius offered, his usually pale face suffused with pink.

“No!” Draco spluttered, sending crumbs of his scone flying across the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly when his mother gave him a look of disapproval.  “I’m not spending Christmas day with muggles.”

“It won’t just be for Christmas day,” Severus shook his head. “It will be the whole holiday period, at the very least.”

“You can have him for Christmas week,” Lucius added mildly.

“I said no,” Draco snapped. “I’m not spending a week with muggles.”

Severus shook his head again.

“Draco’s too blond. He doesn’t look my son at all,” he pointed out.

“You could use glamours,” Lucius suggested. “Or Polyjuice. You have plenty of time to brew it. And find some unsuspecting teen whose hair you could use.”

“No!” Draco said, horrified. “Mother, tell them no.”

Severus gave it some serious thought, shooting his furious godson a speculative look. He’d have to find someone dark-haired, at least, to match his colouring. Then, resignedly, he shook his head once more.

“No. Glamours for a week would be draining, and Polyjuice is too risky. Draco would have to drink Polyjuice every hour for the whole week. My grandmother's house is too small, nights would be difficult, and my cousin’s children are too nosy. It’s not a viable plan. Besides, Draco wouldn’t know how to operate in the muggle world.”

Draco let loose a sigh of relief.

“Pity,” Lucius said forlornly.

“Why are you trying to get rid of our son for Christmas?” Narcissa asked, raising her brow at her husband.

“Wasn’t last year, when Draco stayed at Hogwarts, peaceful?” Lucius pointed out.

“Hey!”

“Have another scone, son,” Lucius said, stuffing another scone into Draco’s open mouth as Severus had. “Besides, it would be a wonderful opportunity for Draco for some cultural enrichment. Whilst he would spend quality time with his godfather in the muggle world, we could go to … France? Spain? Italy?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Draco cried resentfully.

Severus snorted. Draco had nothing to worry about. Draco chose to stay at Hogwarts last year, and Lucius had been terribly maudlin without his son that Christmas. Severus remembered Lucius before he got married and had Draco. He had been a cold bastard who didn’t care who got in his way.

After Draco’s birth, Lucius’s cold demeanour melted faster than candlewax in Fiendfyre, dangerously so. The Dark Lord’s defeat at Potter had saved more than the Light side. Lucius wasted no time claiming to be under Imperius, though the stigma of being a Death Eater would always be there. Last year, Lucius had devised a ridiculous plan to offload the Dark Lord’s item to Crabbe, planning on getting the man arrested. It had not worked. Crabbe, caught under the artefact's influence, planted the item on the Weasley girl, who used it. The only good thing that came out of the whole fiasco was that the last of the Dark Lord’s items had been destroyed. Supposedly there was a basilisk, but Dumbeldore hadn’t confirmed that, so Severus only put it down to rumours concocted by the Potter brat, who once more tried to play hero and only got Lockhart a one-way trip to the Janus Thickey ward in St Mungo’s. Not that Severus was complaining about that. Severus was hard-pressed to answer whether he preferred Lockhart over the Merlin-be-damned werewolf Lupin.

Severus inserted himself into the conversation before the Malfoys started bickering.

“You can sort your Christmas plans later,” Severus snapped, slapping his palm down on the table several times to get their attention. No, he was not acting like a toddler. “Help me first!”

Lucius and Narcissa exchange a glance, as they do sometimes when they try to leave others out of a conversation.

Turning back to Severus, Lucius spoke first, “If you’re determined to go through with this ridiculous charade, then your choices are limited. As you’ve pointed out, you need someone who will be comfortable in the muggle world. Flitwick runs a drama club, and you need a boy to act as your son. Find someone who fits your criteria, preferably an orphan who wouldn’t want to return to an orphanage for Christmas. Surely you will be able to find an incentive big enough for whomever you choose who will be able to pretend for a week.”

“You should be able to find the name of someone who hasn’t left Hogwarts during the holidays,” Narcissa picked up the reins of the discussion. “And even if you don’t find someone who looks like your son, you can use certain potions to dye his hair if needed. I’m sure you know of one which will last a week.”

“Draco can dye his hair,” Lucius proposed quickly.

“Father!” Draco looked scandalised, patting his precious hair protectively.

“Morgana give me strength,” Narcissa said, covering her face with her palm.

Lucius looked unrepentant.

But Severus was already going through a mental list of boys in Slytherin who he might be able to trust to do this for him and what incentives he could offer. Extra tuition in Potions? Special privileges? A place on the Quidditch team? A pass to the Restricted Section?

He had three weeks until the holidays began to find the right boy. It could be doable.

ooOoo

“I wish you could have come with us,” Ron was saying forlornly.

Harry nodded, unable to say anything past the lump in his throat. The Weasleys were heading back to Egypt. They still had some leftover money from the Prize Draw from the summer, and instead of staying in a hotel like last time, Bill had offered his own flat, which he apparently shared with several colleagues who were all leaving for Christmas with their own families. Even Charlie would meet them there, and he would be bringing his magical tent, which they would pitch in one of the spare rooms to give them all extra space.

Harry appreciated Ron’s thoughtfulness. Even though his friend didn’t know everything the Dursleys put him through, he knew enough to realise Harry would have a miserable Christmas. He didn’t want Ron to feel guilty, though. It wasn’t his fault that the Weasleys couldn’t take Harry.

Hermione, too, would be going abroad for Christmas. Back to France. To visit her cousins. Harry couldn’t begrudge them spending time as a family together. They were lucky they had families who wanted to spend time together. Not something he’d ever experienced with the Dursleys, who did everything they could to make sure Harry knew he wasn’t a part of their family and never could be. 

“It’s all right,” Harry attempted brightly. “At least you’ll both be away from Dementors. I'll be fine if Fudge doesn’t send the Dementors to Privet Drive with me.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Hermione assured him, though she looked uncertain.  Crookshanks jumped onto her lap, staring intently at Ron’s pocket where Scabbers was hiding. “Muggles can’t see Dementors, and – he just wouldn’t do that.”

“It would look worse for him if they Kissed the muggles, especially after they disobeyed Fudge by coming onto school grounds when they weren’t allowed,” Ron argued.

Harry cynically wondered if Fudge cared about the muggles when he seemed more concerned about looking like he was doing something rather than actually doing something. Certainly, Hagrid hadn’t liked the presence of the Dementors, not when with his incarceration in Azkaban after the Chamber of Secrets disaster last year. Harry rubbed the scar, hidden under his sleeve, from the basilisk fang. Phoenix's tears might have neutralised the venom from his body, but they hadn’t healed the scar completely.

“Just remember to bring me back good Christmas presents from France and Egypt,” Harry ordered in an attempt to sound uncaring that he would not have his friends around for Christmas. “Not another sneakoscope, though.”

Ron snorted but smiled at him.

“We’re sorry, Harry,” Hermione said sadly, stroking her cat absently.

“You coming to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” Ron asked, abruptly changing the subject. “It’s the last one before they send us all home.”

“Yeah,” Harry said quickly before Hermione could say anything. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval but didn’t say anything to dissuade Harry. He knew it was reckless of him to go to Hogsmeade with Sirius Black and the Dementors roaming about. Yet, if he was returning to a miserable Christmas as an unappreciated and abused House-elf with the Dursleys, he was entitled to have some fun before they were due to leave on the train in a few days.

ooOoo

It was not undoable. Maybe. It would be tricky.

Severus was looking through the members list in Flitwick’s drama club. There were no boys on the list in the second or third year suitable for the task Severus needed them for. They all had families. Not a single orphan on that list. And even if he was of a mind to try to persuade one of them, they were not suitable for the role.

Rollins, a second-year Ravenclaw, stuttered worse than Quirrell. Merlin knew why that boy joined the drama club, not when it took him a week to get a sentence out, never mind repeating lines from a script. Severus longed to shove a potion down his throat for his stuttering, but that would be seen as assault and would also be a temporary solution. Severus didn’t fancy brewing that particular remedy; though less time-consuming than Polyjuice, it was no less fiddly.

Jackson was a third-year Hufflepuff prone to looking at Severus in terror whenever the Potions Master was within ten feet of the boy. No chance that idiot would get over that defect and mingle with his family. Worse, the boy was a notorious gossip. Nothing less than Unbreakable Vow might convince the boy to keep shtum, and even then, Severus had his doubts.

Grant Hardy was the only boy who had caught his attention; he was an orphan, a muggle-born and a Slytherin. The only issue was that he was too old, a Seventh year.

However…

Severus could whip up a modified Deaging potion; just a couple drops would do. The boy was discreet; he had to be to survive as a muggle-born in Slytherin. The boy was studying for his NEWTs, and though his grades were good, perhaps additional tuition in his classes would be welcomed. The boy had ambitions to work as a Mind Healer. Severus could introduce him to several Healer connections he’d cultivated in St Mungo’s. Besides, wasn’t free room and board and a home-cooked Christmas dinner better than returning to a Merlin-forsaken orphanage? Though he wouldn’t wish Cousin Jacqueline’s cooking on anyone. Hardy didn’t need to know that.

Examining the plan from many angles, Severus decided perhaps this was doable. Snapping shut the Drama Club member’s ledger, he replaced it on the shelf and exited the Staffroom with his robes billowing dramatically behind him.  

ooOoo

Harry kept his eyes on his shabby shoes to avoid looking at the disappointed gaze of the Headmaster. Sneaking out to Hogsmeade had been risky enough, but throwing snowballs at Malfoy was stupid, as much as the git deserved it. Harry had run back through the secret tunnel from Honeydukes as fast as he could after his Invisibility Cloak had slipped.

Of course, Snape had to be the first professor Malfoy had run across, and Harry was still trying to figure out if he was lucky that Dumbledore had been close by when Snape tried to haul Harry to his office.

Snape was still ranting about Harry’s recklessness, arrogance, and other defects only Snape could name. Harry tuned his voice out, though. Snape’s anger was nothing new. The last time Dumbledore had looked at Harry with those disappointed twinkle-less eyes was when he and Ron were reprimanded for flying Mr Weasley’s car to Hogwarts.

“You should expel the boy!” Snape snarled, eventually winding down from his rant.

Harry darted a quick glance to see Dumbledore’s reaction to that demand before looking down at his battered trainers again. He hoped his luck, a fickle thing at the best of times, would be in his favour on this occasion. He’d managed to escape being expelled last year after the Whomping Willow incident; he’d managed to avoid getting his wand snapped after blowing up Aunt Marge, and he hoped Dumbledore would give him another chance by not kicking him out of Hogwarts this time either. He couldn’t go back to the Dursleys permanently. He didn’t know if he would survive, for more than one reason.

“Do you have an explanation, Harry?” Dumbledore asked disappointedly.

Harry swallowed before answering, “No, sir. I don’t have a good reason.”

So far, he had been lucky that they had been concentrating on the fact that he had been in Hogsmeade rather than how he got there. Dumbledore knew about his Invisibility Cloak, having been the one to give it to him. He knew he might have to give up the secret tunnel leading from the statue of the one-eyed witch, but he couldn’t give up the Map. He didn’t want to implicate Fred and George in any way.

Snape crossed his arms and harrumphed. Harry felt Dumbledore’s eyes still studying him, but he refused to look up.

“Please step outside, Harry. I would like to speak to Professor Snape,” Dumbledore eventually broke the silence.

Harry hesitated briefly and then left with a whispered, “Yes, sir.”

ooOoo

Severus watched the brat leave the office, closing the door firmly behind him. It would incense Severus greatly if Potter wasn’t punished for this. After all they had done to keep the boy safe, only for the little horror to flaunt it in their faces- for what? To saunter through a village for the sake of chocolates and joke products?

The boy was ungrateful in the extreme. Unappreciative of the sacrifices being made for him. Of Lily’s sacrifice. No matter how much he pushed for the boy to be expelled, or at the very least to be suspended, he knew Dumbledore would never allow that. Still, he would ensure the boy would be punished for this. Detention for the rest of the school year, at the very least. Severus would devise the worst detentions he could think of. The boy would be cleaning bedpans, every suit of armour, every cauldron, scrub every dungeon floor, clean every shelf, and anything else he and Filch could think of- with a bloody toothbrush. To start with. Perhaps he would even have the brat on laundry duty.

Potter was a spoiled brat who never did an honest day’s work in his life. Severus would bet his relatives doted on his every whim and waited on him hand and foot. Perhaps if they had assigned the boy some chores, he might know some humility.

Turning back to Dumbledore, ready to argue his arse off, Severus was startled to see the old man watching him closely.

“How goes your search for a son?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes gleaming at him.

Understanding, and with it, horror, dawned quickly. Severus whipped his head between the door that Potter was standing on the other side of and the Headmaster- several times.

Pointing a wagging finger in the senile fool’s direction, Severus sharply snapped out, “No! No! Whatever you’re thinking or planning, the answer is no! Just no! No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Chapter 2 – Break a Leg

“What has the Headmaster told you?” Snape asked abruptly, slamming the door behind Harry as soon as he entered.

“Only that you needed help with a family matter and needed someone to pretend to be your son for Christmas,” Harry dutifully answered.

Snape’s nostrils flared at the brief explanation. He pointed at the chair in front of his desk, waving his wand for various locking and privacy charms as he walked to the other side before sitting down and facing Harry with a steely look.

Harry was much more relaxed now that he knew he wouldn’t be expelled, but there was still the threat of detentions and various restrictions hanging over him until the end of the school year. Including a ban from the Quidditch team. Dumbledore might not hiss and spit like Snape, but he still had a horribly gentle way of pointing out Harry’s mistakes that made him feel tiny and selfish.

So, he had been given a choice: he could either serve detentions until Easter break and be restricted from the Quidditch team for the next match against Slytherin, or he could help Snape in a personal matter.

Harry had to think carefully but quickly about this decision. He had forced himself to think about it logically and weigh it all up in his mind as Dumbledore had watched him after Snape had flounced out of the Headmaster’s office yesterday.

Harry’s choices were simple when he broke them down. He could be on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, on his way to Privet Drive for a miserable, and painful, Christmas with the Dursleys, and come back to Hogwarts to an equally tragic term leading up to Easter, where he couldn’t even lose himself in Quidditch training (especially without a broom) and serve whatever painful detention Snape could come up with. Or, he could follow the Potions Master to the muggle world and spend Christmas with Ebenezer Snape and his family, a Christmas that was most likely to be as equally as wretched as with the Dursleys.

At least if he spent a couple of weeks with Snape and his family, he could return to school with a blank slate, no detentions and no Quidditch ban. Oliver would have his head if Harry couldn’t play next term! He was already harassing Harry to replace his broom and constantly accosting him to discuss the latest brooms on the market according to Which Broomstick?

So, it had been a simple choice when Harry broke it down to whether he genuinely wanted to go back to the Dursleys or not. The answer was a resounding not. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

“What I am about to tell you is to stay between you and me, Potter,” Snape said, leaning forward, staring at Harry hatefully. “No one must know. Not even your two tails.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry agreed blandly, assuming the two-tails comment was aimed at Ron and Hermione.

“As the Headmaster has told you, I am in need of a boy to pretend to be my son,” Snape began stiffly. “My- father’s side of the family are muggles. Both my parents died when I was sixteen, and until I reached the age of majority, my grandmother, my father’s mother, took me in.”

Harry didn’t bother expressing his condolences about Snape’s parents, knowing his words wouldn’t be welcomed. He kept his expression as blank as possible. He gave a nod to show he was following.

“For reasons that are none of your business, I had to tell my grandmother that I have a child,” Snape continued, his voice dry. “She has insisted on meeting him for years, and I have always managed to put her off. However, this year I fear I have no other choice. My cousin has kept me apprised of my grandmother’s health, which has recently failed her. This might be her last Christmas, and she has asked to meet my son.”

Harry listened to Snape in silence, wanting to offer his commiserations but at the same knowing they wouldn’t be appreciated. It was hard to believe that Snape had a heart.

“So, er, what’s the plan?”

Snape gave Harry a stern look before seeming to decide this might be a reasonable question and answered it.

“You shall get on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students and let them believe you are returning to your muggle family. You are to stay on the train until everyone else has left and wait for me there. Together we will travel first to my home, where we shall stay for two days before travelling to my cousin’s farm, where the family get-together will be held this year.”

It didn’t escape Harry’s notice that Snape neglected to mention the actual locations of either place but decided not to push. It made no difference to him as long as it was far from the Dursleys.

“What’s my name?” he asked instead.

Snape gives him a derisive look.

“You must have told them a name,” Harry quicked tacked on before Snape could say something insulting. “What’s my name supposed to be?”

Snape’s teeth click as he snaps his mouth shut. He stares into the distance, seemingly thinking hard with his brows furrowed.

“I haven’t told them one,” he said abruptly. “I always say my son.”

“So I can keep my name?” He had to bite his tongue from asking if Snape could say his first name without sneering. It didn’t seem to have occurred to Snape yet, and Harry refrained from pointing it out. Surely, it would occur to Snape at some point. “How old am I supposed to be?”

“Thirteen,” Snape says in a clipped voice.

“Am I – that is – how much have you told “your son” about your muggle family?”

Snape huffed as if Harry was asking unreasonable questions but answered nonetheless.

“You would not be expected to know their names, Potter. My family believe they have not met my son previously because of an acrimonious break-up with my ex,” he glared at Harry, daring him to comment. Harry bit his lip. “I have led them to believe my estrangement with my son is due to a vicious custody battle.”

ooOoo

Potter left an hour later with a suspiciously blank face. The boy had done well, Severus grudgingly admitted, to keep his questions relevant and to what was required of him rather than delving into his personal business. If only the boy demonstrated such intelligence in his Potions class.

Severus didn’t always understand how Dumbledore manipulated him into doing the exact opposite of what the Potions Master wanted. He cursed Hardy and his Ravenclaw boyfriend, who invited his Slytherin student to spend Christmas with his family. Hardy would have been his choice if the boy had been available. He didn’t trust Potter at all, but as with Severus, Dumbledore must have manipulated the boy and dangled enough incentives with threats of many detentions, though Severus had not been privy to that conversation.

Dumbledore was a wily wizard, and Severus wasn’t sure whether the Ministry should be relieved or disappointed at not having the man play politics more often. Indeed, if the wizard was more unscrupulous, he would have been a worse Dark Lord than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Severus believed fobbing Potter onto him for Christmas was a devious attempt to get him to put aside their differences and see Potter as his own person or some such rot. Possibly the senile old coot even believed Christmas was the season of goodwill, and the Christmas spirit would overcome Severus, and he and Potter would get along. Bah, humbug, as the muggle saying went.

That would never happen. Potter was too much like his father, arrogant, spoiled and pampered. He would get the shock of his life when they arrived at his cousin’s farm, the only Snape whose home was big enough to accommodate them. Severus would insist that Potter be given the same chores as their children. A week or so mucking out the stables would have Potter change his attitude in no time.

Maybe his ego would be less inflated as a result.

Snape snorted at the ridiculous thought. He had been chipping away at the boy’s ego since Potter dared to cheek him since the first class. Nothing made a blind bit of difference. He did wonder how Dumbledore managed to persuade his muggle relatives to loan him to Severus for the holidays. He knew Potter spent every term break over the last two years at the castle instead of going home. Rather ungrateful of Potter to refuse to go home to the muggles who raised him after his parents’ death. 

Even Severus had made an effort to visit Nana Bea during Christmas in his final year at Hogwarts and every Christmas since. Usually, he only turned up on Christmas Eve and left hours after Christmas  Day, though he accepted the invitation to stay the whole two weeks this year because he had to bring his son. That meant they would be staying until New Year. If not for that, he could have returned earlier (and Potter would have been with his muggle family), even whilst the Ministry was working on the new wards.

If not for the fact that Draco would draw more attention due to his lack of familiarity with the muggle world, Severus would even have preferred to take his godson. At least he could tolerate one more person's company, apart from Nana Bea. He only put up with the rest of the family for her sake.

ooOoo

It was decidedly bizarre to see Snape without his robes or frock, which he had exchanged for formal muggle wear. However, he looked no less imposing for his lack of billowing robes. Perhaps because they were no longer in the dungeons, Snape didn’t sport the usual sallow look, and even his hair looked less greasy. Maybe there was something to be said about Hermione’s potions fume theory wreaking havoc on his hair. Hermione claimed her hair always frizzed more after a Potions lesson. Harry would never say this aloud to his friend, but he could never tell the difference.

Harry needed new clothes, but Snape would never take him to a shop to buy any. So Harry didn’t bother asking. After running away from the Dursleys during the summer, because he blew up Aunt Marge, Harry had learned his lesson to keep muggle and wizard currency on him. So he had sufficient funds to buy himself some extra clothes if needed. As it was, he had to make do with wearing Dudley’s cast-offs. Luckily, he had mastered the Shrinking Charm last year, so he re-sized his hand-me-downs, though he had to remember to reverse the Charm before getting on the train at the end of the year. Otherwise, the Dursleys would punish him for using magic on Dudley’s old clothes.

The good thing about wearing Dudley’s cast-offs, at the rate his cousin outgrew his clothes, was that they came to Harry in reasonable condition. Some were more ripped and torn than others, but for the most part, they were decent, if a little faded once Harry shrunk them to fit him.

Still, his clothes were Harry’s problem, not Snape’s. He would have to wait until summer and see what he could do to fix the issue. He decided to see if Snape might take him to buy new shoes. He only had dress shoes he wore with his uniform, and he didn’t want to wear those out before he had to. He could do with some new trainers. A cheap pair would do. By the end of the year, they would be so battered anyway that the Dursleys wouldn’t look at them.

“Ready, Potter?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Harry quickly nodded and reached for his trunk. He had left Hedwig’s cage in his dorms, and Hedwig would stay at Hogwarts.

Snape, Harry discovered, lived in a small house somewhere just outside Liverpool's city centre. Though it looked completely muggle from the outside, Harry could tell from a faint buzzing that it was a wizarding residence as they approached.

They would only be staying there for two days before leaving for Marple, the farm where the rest of the Snapes would gather for the family get-together.

Though Snape had an extra bedroom, it seemed the Professor was using it as a library as it was overflowing with books. There was only one bathroom in the house, which was expected given the small size. He did have a basement, his Potion’s Lab, which Harry was not allowed to step foot in no matter what. Snape transfigured a small sofa for him out of a chair in the second bedroom and handed him some bedding.

Thus, Harry spent the next two days staying out of sight and pretending he didn’t exist. It was a system that worked with the Dursleys until they needed him for something, so there was no reason why it wouldn’t work with Snape. With nothing else to do, Harry had even completed two of the four homework assignments over the Holidays; Potions and Transfiguration. He still had to do his Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts work, but those were the easiest. He put the same effort as he always did into his Potions homework but didn’t expect Snape to mark fairly. Not that he ever did.

Snape kept himself locked in his Potion’s Lab the whole time, from ridiculous o’clock in the morning to what time does the bat actually sleep? The good thing was that, as long as Harry didn’t make a mess and cleaned up after himself, he had free rein in the kitchen. Harry was surprised to find the house stocked up with muggle cleaning products rather than wizarding ones. The house was mostly clean, if a little dusty, so Harry carefully and cautiously cleaned the kitchen and sitting area. Though fascinating as it was cleaning using magic, having witnessed it at the Burrow, Harry surprised himself by enjoying cleaning the muggle way. There was something just a little bit more satisfying about it than using magic. Not that Harry was allowed to use magic anyway. Well, he could. Dumbledore had told him he could only use it to defend himself, but winking at him, he had told Harry that no one would be able to tell with the dispensation in place what spells he was using. Harry didn’t want to push his luck with the Ministry, though. They seemed a fickle bunch. And Harry had people turn against him for no reason he could control.

He hoped the update on the wards meant he could return to Hogwarts without worry about the Dementors, though he still resolved to continue learning the Patronus. He wondered, not for the first time, if Dumbledore would return the Marauders Map to him. He hadn’t told Ron and Hermione he’d given it to Dumbledore in a fit of conscience. Hermione would have approved. She had wanted him to give it to the Headmaster in the first place. If Sirius Black was around the school, perhaps Dumbledore could use the Map to set a trap for him. Then again, Black would have no reason to stick around with the school empty for the holidays. Perhaps even now, he was scouring the country looking for Harry.

Turning his thoughts back to Snape, the other wizard seemed to have no hobbies other than collecting books. Some were new, and others looked like they were held together by magic. Again, he was surprised that some seemed to be muggle, but then discovering that Snape was half-blood like Harry, maybe he shouldn’t have been.

It was better than being back at the Dursleys, where Harry would have been locked in Dudley’s second bedroom, only allowed out to use the bathroom, do chores and being the punching bag in general. He might still be stuck inside the house, but Snape secluding himself in his lab made him feel alone rather than unwelcome. At least the bat wasn’t looming over his shoulder all the time as he did in the classroom.

Lying on the sofa the night before they were due to leave for Marple, various storylines churned around Harry’s head. Snape told him very little about what was expected of him when he was supposed to meet his muggle family. Snape’s supposed split with his ex was acrimonious, but he seemed to have quiet about his relationship with his supposed son was supposed to be liked. Was Harry supposed to be sullen and resentful of Snape because he was an absentee father? Was he supposed to be eager to please? Harry couldn’t imagine playing a son with a good relationship with Snape. The man barely looked at him. Harry reckoned he could weave a story of a neglected son who had nothing in common with his father.

A smile made its way to his face as he made himself more comfortable on the sofa, pulling the blanket higher. This could actually be fun. He would treat it like a drama class. He loved those in Primary school. He was picked for the best parts in the school Nativity play for three years running. Maybe in the New Year, he would speak to Flitwick about joining the school drama club. He did miss stuff like that.

Harry was just an actor playing a role. He knew Snape would have preferred anyone but him. The greasy git only had himself to blame for not directing him appropriately. Ha! He couldn’t wait until he called Snape dad for the first time. Not for the first time, he wondered what Snape’s muggle family were like. Were they as surly as him? Would they welcome Harry for being Snape’s son, for all their eagerness to finally meet him?

Harry eventually fell asleep to those questions swirling around his head.

Chapter 3 – In the Limelight

Severus spent the two days in Liverpool brewing various potions. He would stock up and take some with him for Potter, knowing the brat’s penchant to get into mischief, and the rest would be taken back for the Hospital Wing. He hoped some potions might help Nana Bea somehow if he snuck them into her food.

It was mostly an excuse to stay away from Potter. Thankfully, Potter was uncharacteristically well-behaved and remained in the library/second room instead of wandering around his house unchecked.

On the second morning of the winter holidays, Potter was up reasonably early instead of lounging in bed like most teenagers seemed to. Severus glamoured the boy’s trunk to look like an ordinary suitcase and added some Muggle Repelling charms and a Featherlight charm. He would not be lugging Potter’s luggage for him. The boy still had homework to do. Severus didn’t believe the boy had even looked at his homework yet, but that wasn’t his problem. It was the boy’s own responsibility to complete any work assigned. Potter might be pretending to be his son for the holidays, but Severus wasn’t his father and didn’t feel the need to harangue the boy about doing his homework.

At least the room wasn’t in a state. Severus paused as he looked around the kitchen. There was something different about it. He scrutinised the place, eventually twigged to the fact it looked cleaner than usual, not that Severus’ home was messy. But, looking between the countertops and the tiled floor, the kitchen practically gleamed.

He didn’t know if he should be annoyed that Potter was flaunting the special dispensation to use his wand for emergencies only or surprised Potter knew cleaning spells and could perform them well enough. Deciding to leave the issue for now, though he would be addressing it with Potter, of that there was no doubt, if the boy was stupid enough to pull his wand out in front of Severus, or Heaven forbid, his muggle family.

Walking into the sitting, which he noted was similarly polished, Severus took a deep breath and let it out. Instead, he called up the stairs, “Are you planning on coming downstairs at some point today, Potter?”

“Yes...” Pause. “…Dad!”

Severus blinked. Oh right. He would need to get used to Potter calling him that for the next week or so. He swallowed his discomfort and ignored the confusion Potter’s new title for him generated.

ooOoo

Snape locked his house firmly behind them and led Harry to an alley where he reluctantly offered his hand for Side-Along Apparition. Harry tightened his hand on his glamoured trunk and gave the other hand, just as reluctantly, to Snape.

In anticipation of this, he hadn’t had breakfast this morning, hating the sensation of being squeezed through a tube. He knew this was a popular method of travel within the Wizarding community and hoped the sensation was better when performing it for himself rather than Side-Along. He wouldn’t know that until they started teaching him when he reached his sixth year.

They appeared somewhere outside Marple train station, where Snape’s cousin Alfred would come to pick them up.

“Remember, Potter, that my family know nothing of magic,” Snape warned quietly.

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered, refraining from rolling his eyes.

“Severus,” Harry heard a name called from between the crowd. 

A dark-haired man walked through the throng of people. He was as tall as Snape, though where Snape was lean, this man was broad-shouldered, with a protruding belly showing he enjoyed his food. His face was flushed, possibly from the biting wind, though his thick coat made Harry envious. His own jacket barely kept him from feeling the breeze. This actually was bought for him rather than one of Dudley’s cast-offs. Dudley’s coat always ended up in such bad condition, ripped and torn, that even Aunt Petunia couldn’t justify giving it to Harry. So they bought him the cheapest, thinnest jacket they could find. Not bothering to think about keeping him warm as they would their precious Dudders.

Snape’s trench coat must be laden with Warming Charms, as he didn’t even seem to feel the stiff breeze. Harry pulled out his beanie from his pocket and shoved that on his head, bringing it low enough to cover his reddening ears. At least it covered his scar completely. Sticking one hand into his pocket, the other still clutching his glamoured trunk, he wished he had gloves.

“Good to see you, Severus,” the man was saying, sticking his hand out for Snape to shake.

Snape looked like an automaton.

“Alfred. Good to see you, too.”

Harry had to keep his expression blank. A polite Snape? He didn’t know such a being existed. Even if every word was dragged from him.

“This is my son. P-Harry.”

Harry felt Snape’s hand hover above his shoulder but not quite touch. He was impressed. He expected Snape to stumble over his name more than that.

Looking directly at Harry for the first time, Alfred seemed to assess him from head to foot, although his gaze was warmer than Snape’s ever had been. As was his smile. It was genuine and kind. A look very few adults directed at Harry.

“Hello, sir,” Harry greeted politely, offering his hand, still cold despite being shoved in his pocket.

Alfred shook himself from his thoughts and answered Harry.

“Sir? Polite lad. Technically I’m your second cousin, but you can call me Uncle Alfred if you want. Now come on, son. Your hand’s freezing, and you’re starting to shake. Let’s get you in the car where it’s warm, and we’ll be home in no time. Here, let me take your bag.”

His trunk is snatched from him before he can protest.

“Thank you,” Harry said belatedly, throwing an uncertain look towards Snape, who shook his head. Snape had put Muggle-Repelling Charms on there. Alfred shouldn’t have been able to take them.

‘Uncle Alfred’ had spoken more words to Harry in the first minute than Snape had in two days of staying with him.

They followed Alfred to the car park, leading them to a mud-spattered jeep that Harry recognised as a Suzuki.

“Go on, lad,” Alfred gestured for him to get in the car as he walked around with Harry’s trunk and stowed it away with Snape’s suitcase.

Snape moved to the front seat while Harry opened the door to the back.

“Hello,” a shy voice greeted him from the back seat as Harry climbed in.

“Hi,” Harry said back quietly.

“Hi, Uncle Severus,” another voice said timidly.

“Girls,” Snape said in the same stiff voice as before.

Harry wondered if Snape greeted them with a generic ‘girls’ because he didn’t remember their names. If Snape only saw them at Christmas, he obviously spent more time with Hogwarts students than with his own family. He had photographs of all of them, though. They weren’t displayed prominently in his Sitting room. They were in frames in the room Harry had been sleeping in, tucked discreetly between the shelves.

The driver’s side door slammed shut.

“Harry, these are two of my four daughters, Laurel and Bethany,” Alfred introduced with a smile. “Belt’s buckled?”

Harry quickly pulls his belt on.

“Yes, sir.”

Alfred shook his head, amused. “Sir,” he snorted quietly.

Without another word, they drove off. Harry felt the girls giving him curious looks, but neither said anything. Even Alfred gave him backwards glances in the rearview mirror.

“How’s the school, Severus?” Alfred asked.

“Fine.”

The car was filled with an awkward silence.

“How is Nana Bea?” Snape asked.

Even Harry could tell the answer meant a lot to Snape. There was a perceptible pause before Alfred answered.

“Oh, you know. The same,” Alfred answered casually. “Jacky and Gloria have been looking after her.”

Snape managed to give Harry a brief family history. Jacky, short for Jacqueline, was Alfred’s sister. Snape’s father, Tobias, was the youngest of three. Zachary was the oldest, and next, there was Teresa. All three of Bea’s children were dead.  Zachary had two children; Jacqueline, the eldest, and Alfred. Gloria must be Alfred’s wife. Unless she was one of Alfred’s daughters? Harry couldn’t remember.

But he did remember Jacky had three children; two boys (twins) and a girl. Alfred had four daughters. Snape pretended to have one Harry.

The drive to the farm took very little time. Maybe ten minutes in total from the train station. During Spring and summer, he had no doubt the forest areas would have been full of lush greenery. However, when all the leaves had fallen off the trees in winter, Harry saw windy roads full of frost-tipped branches, decorated with the occasional twinkling of Christmas lights. In the distance of various farmhouses, he could see all the Christmas decorations carefully placed on the front of houses.

The day was overcast, but so far, it hadn’t rained. Harry quite liked the outdoors and foliage. It had a quiet appeal, a much more inviting foresty area than the Forbidden Forest. He imagined the only dangerous creatures out here would be wild rabbits, foxes and squirrels.

The driveway to the house was longer than Harry expected, though he shouldn’t have been surprised given that it was a farm. Harry had never been on one before. Dudley had, though. During a school trip, Harry hadn’t been allowed to go on because the Dursleys didn’t want to pay for him. Harry waited until the girls alighted first before jumping out of the jeep. It was a good thing Harry’s trainers weren’t new; otherwise, they would have been ruined already from the mud. It had clearly rained in Marple recently.

When Harry went to the boot to pick up his trunk, Alfred waved him off.

“Nah, I’ve got it, Harry.”

He heaved it effortlessly from the boot, not letting it touch the ground.

“It’s not very heavy,” he commented. “Did you even pack? You know you’ll be here for almost two weeks, right? Unless you’re not staying very long?”

Alfred looked to Snape, who had come around to fetch his own luggage.

“We shall be staying until the new year,” Snape confirmed.

Alfred seemed to release whatever tension he had and nodded. He locked his car.

“Right,” he said. “Right. Come on then.”

Harry left Alfred and Snape trail ahead of him. The girls had already run off towards the house.

“Gloria’s on the night shift today, so you won’t see her until tomorrow,” Alfred told them. Then looking over his shoulder, he continued, “I don’t know if your dad told you. My wife, Gloria, works at Stepping Hill Hospital as a nurse on the Oncology unit.”

Harry nodded, then, for something to say, added, “That’s very brave of her.”

Alfred (and Snape) stopped and turned to give him a look of surprise. He flushed under their attention.

Not looking at Snape, he said, “It’s – I er – One of my neighbours had cancer. He went quickly. He needed round-the-clock care, and he was in pain all the time. I remember the nurse who looked after him. She was always really helpful and cheerful. Until I saw her cry in the garden.”

Alfred smiled at him and continued walking. Snape gave him a speculative glance, which he ignored.

“Gloria’s mum went the same way. She was still in school. She wanted to be a policewoman until that happened. Then her mum fell ill, and she worked her arse off to become a nurse instead.”

The house was decorated with a huge sleigh and reindeers and various-sized snowmen. Harry couldn’t wait to see how the lights looked in the dark.  Approaching the front door, he saw the girls had left it wide open.

“We’re home, ladies,” Alfred yelled.

Harry saw Snape take a step back and flinch at the sudden noise and looked down so that Snape didn’t see the smile on his face.

Reminded of the mud on his trainers, Harry bends down to loosen his shoelaces. Having fallen behind them, Snape bumped into Harry, not having seen him stop.

“What are you doing?” Snape hissed, annoyed.

“I was taking my shoes off. I didn’t want to get mud in the house,” Harry explained.

Snape scowled but didn’t say anything further. Alfred had already taken off his wellies and carried Harry’s trunk inside the house. Harry quickly followed, having taken his own shoes off. Snape closed the front door with a snap behind them. Feeling nervous now, Harry moved forward. Stepping into the Sitting room, he saw the whole family had gathered.

He flinched, startled when he felt Snape’s hand come down on his shoulder. Tensing, he recognised Snape’s fingers digging into his shoulder for the warning that it was. It was nothing more than nerves, he told himself. Stage fright. It happened before he walked onto the stage in the Nativity plays. It happened before he stepped onto the pitch with his broom in hand for a Quidditch match.

He would overcome it. He always had.

“Come in, come in,” Alfred beckoned with a smile.

He followed through the hallway and into the Sitting room. His trunk was off to the side, tucked just behind the sofa and out of the way.

He focused on the Christmas decorations and massive tree first, tucked into the corner, on the opposite side of the fireplace. There was a box of decorations in the box – it seemed they were waiting for Snape and Harry to come before they decorated the tree. Harry hoped he was allowed to help. For the last two years, he’d helped decorate the Gryffindor tree in the Common room and enjoyed the sense of camaraderie with his Housemates when they decorated it together.

Harry took in the sea of faces in front of him. He spotted Nana Bea straight away as she was wheeled in. She looked austere, her face wrinkled and creased in ways that showed she had lived a hard life. Her eyes were lighter than Snape’s, dark brown, whereas Snape’s were black. Her hair, which might have been black in her youth, was entirely white, though thinning and lank. In her eyes was a look that Harry could never imagine in Snape’s, and that was warmth. Like no matter how much life had beaten her down, she still rose above it.

Looking around the rest of the occupants, Harry steeled himself for introductions and his performance. Snape might not have wanted Harry to be his pretend son, but here he was. Snape didn’t know and could never find out, but he saved Harry. Saved him from the Dursleys. So he would do a good job convincing them that he was a part of the family. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have some fun at the dungeon bat’s expense.

ooOoo

No one had told him Nana Bea was in a wheelchair now. Why hadn’t anyone told him? She was walking last year, albeit with a cane, but she was on her own two feet. When had the wheelchair happened? Why hadn’t Jacqueline mentioned it in her letters? Why hadn’t Alfred said something during the drive?

Jacky’s letter mentioned her being ill, but nothing about this.

Deciding not to make a fuss with everyone present, Severus made his way to Nana Bea; sitting beside her wheelchair, he beckoned for Potter to join him.

“Hello, Nana,” Severus greeted, his voice gentling as he bent to hug his grandmother. Her arms came around his shoulders, and he was relieved to feel the strength in them he always had.

“Severus,” she smiled, patting his cheek tenderly with her aged hands. “I was worried you might not make it.”

Her voice was clear and strong as ever. Another part of him relaxed.

“Look who I brought,” he said softly and stepped out of the way to reveal Potter fully.

“Oh,” she exclaimed quietly. “Your son? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Severus pushed down the guilt that twinged at those words.

“Hello,” Potter offered, and then to Severus’s surprise, knelt in front of Nana Bea, letting her pull him into an embrace.

She patted Potter’s messy mop, and it was Potter who pulled back, though she never let go of his hands.

“His name’s – Harry,” Severus forced himself to say.

“You’re a handsome devil, Harry,” Nana Bea laughed, patting Potter’s cheek the same way she had with Severus.

Severus pushed down the jealousy, irrational as he recognised it to be, at the action.

“Oh, and you have the most gorgeous eyes,” she complimented. “It won’t be long before you have girls falling all over you.”

Potter blushed.

“I get them from my mum,” he said quietly.

Severus felt a sharp pain go through his heart and had to bite down another irrational desire to push Potter physically away from his grandmother. Once more, he wished he had been able to bring anyone but Potter.

So far, the boy had been quiet. He had been polite in the car and considerate enough to take off his muddy shoes without being prompted. Perhaps they could get through this without hassle if the boy kept his trap shut and played the shy, bashful brat Severus knew he wasn’t.

“Don’t keep him all to yourself, Nana,” Jaqueline interjected.

Nana Bea let go of Potter, who slowly stood up and came to stand between her and Severus.

“I’m your Aunt Jacky,” the woman asserted, “no matter how formal your dad likes to be.”

They then went through the rigamarole of introducing Alfred and Jacqueline’s children. If Potter were his real son, they would be his second cousins. But Potter wasn’t his son, Severus told himself strictly. A fact he was grateful for. Severus counted down the days when the charade would be over, and they could return to real life.

Jacqueline, he was stunned to discover once she was close enough to embrace him, was pregnant once more. Severus wanted to ask if his cousins needed re-educating in contraception because why else would they have more children if not for accidents.

He dearly hoped Gloria wouldn’t come home with a swollen belly as well. As a nurse, she should be more educated about such matters.

“Severus, you’re in the attic as usual. Is that okay?” Alfred called out.

Severus could do no more than nod. He only usually stayed overnight for Christmas Eve, had dinner on Christmas Day and then made his way back to Hogwarts before he was missed.

He had never stayed longer than that at Alfred’s farm before. Jacqueline had her own house somewhere five minutes away. She was a housewife, primarily, but she and her family often came to Alfred’s. Her husband, Bartholomew, worked with Alfred – they were both Veterinarians, whilst Jacqueline dabbled in jam and preserve making, which she supplied to a local garden centre.

Severus enjoyed the blackberry preserve and always lamented when the jar emptied, and he would have to wait months before he received his next supply at Christmas. It was the only bit of cooking Jacqueline was good at. He was sorely going to miss the House-Elves cooking over Christmas break.

“Harry, I’ve made a bed for you in the den,” Alfred announced, picking up Potter’s trunk again and leading the boy off to the side.

“I’ll be right back, Nana,” Severus promised, taking her hand briefly and squeezing it, relishing the warmth of it. Picking up his own suitcase, an actual suitcase, not glamoured like Potter’s trunk, he took off upstairs onto the first-floor landing, then into a discreetly tucked staircase up to the attic. He gratefully slipped his feet into the slippers provided, taking off his socks upon reaching his room. Unlike the rest of the house, the attic was bare, though it looked like it had been recently dusted in anticipation of his arrival, most likely.

The house's foundations were quite old, though there had been modern additions over the years, which accounted for the different styles depending on which area of the house they were in. The attic was slightly newer than the other bedrooms. He wondered how Alfred could afford to pay for everything, especially with so many children.

Severus knew his cousins had grown much of what they needed because they lived on a farm. Alfred had a herb patch, a vegetable garden, and a decent-sized greenhouse, and many of their meals were home-cooked. Jacqueline didn’t live on a farm; her house was a simple two up, two down that must get overcrowded, more so with another mouth on the way. He knew she and her kids came over to Alfred’s more often than not, as she looked after Nana Bea whilst Bartholomew and Alfred worked with the animals all day, even if their practice was operating out of the stable on the same land.  

He whipped out his wand and unpacked quickly after ensuring he was utterly alone. He then went to the den where Potter would be sleeping to check in with the boy. To his surprise, Potter wasn’t there. His trunk certainly was, though. He recalled Potter’s shock when Alfred took his trunk from him. Severus had to hide his own. Even though he had placed Muggle-Repelling charms on Potter’s trunk, they were so no one in the family, particularly the nosy children, would get the urge to open it. With no one in the room, he added another spell so that no one but he or Potter could open it, and another Muggle-Repelling Charm that would ensure every time his family went to touch the trunk, for whatever reason, they would be distracted by something else, or overlook it completely.

Job done, he nodded in satisfaction and looked around the temporarily converted den. Alfred had added a camping cot for Potter, which looked brand new, as did the pillow and bedding that were neatly folded at the foot. He scowled at the sight of it. They didn’t need to fork out cash they barely afford for Potter. Potter better appreciate the effort they had gone for him. He ignored the fact they would have done the same for anyone Severus brought. Alfred had tried to make the den comfortable for Potter; there was even a small bedside cabinet next to the cot. He was pleased to see that the cabinet was at least second-hand.

He left the den, making his way to the Sitting room, expecting to see Potter with the rest of the family. He wasn’t there. Nana Bea was, though, along with Alexandra, Alfred’s youngest.

“Nana? Where’s – ” He had to stop himself from saying Potter; however, he did manage to temper his tone. Having Potter out of sight for too long was wreaking havoc on his blood pressure.

“Come here, Severus,” Nana Bea patted the seat next to her wheelchair.

Severus did as she bid and watched as she sent Alexandra to wash up.

“Jacky is in the kitchen getting lunch ready. Alfred took Harry and the others to give him a farm tour,” Nana Bea explained, taking his hand in hers.

He let her. She was the only one who would reach for him without hesitation, the only one he would allow to do so. Neither Tobias nor Eileen had been particularly affectionate. Unless fists counted as affectionate. Lily had been open with him; until one ill-spoken word widened the chasm between them, and he thought he’d lost someone caring forever.

Until he lived with Nana Bea, who never hesitated to pull him close, hold his hand, and caress his face. Shower him with warmth and caring. He’d gotten used to seeing Nana like that with everyone: his cousins and their children. Seeing her like that with Potter had irritated him, though. Potter didn’t deserve Nana Bea’s affection. The brat was only here to avoid detention next term and the Quidditch ban Dumbledore threatened him with. It incensed Severus that the boy chose to spend Christmas with strangers rather than his own family simply because he wanted to play a sport. The boy didn’t even have a broom at the moment!

“How are you, Nana? Truthfully,” Severus asked softly, pushing thoughts of the brat out of his mind.

“Oh, don’t you dare fuss, Severus,” Nana Bea waved her free hand dismissively at him.

“Nana,” Severus began strictly, “why didn’t anyone tell me … about this?”

Gesturing at the wheelchair, he waited for her answer.

“I didn’t want to worry you, lad,” she told him. “You’re always so busy at that school of yours. I told Jacky not to mention anything. I have Gloria and the older kids coming to help me if I need it. Which I don’t. I can manage just fine.”

Severus held back a sigh of frustration. Nana Bea could be so ridiculously independent. He debated whether to press harder for answers, but he decided to harangue Alfred and Jacqueline instead.

“Now, tell me more about your Harry,” she said. “Such a lovely lad.”

“Yes, Severus, tell us more about Harry,” Alfred’s voice sounded behind him.

He turned slightly to Alfred entering the Sitting room, and sat opposite Severus.

“He’s such a polite lad, so quiet, Nana,” Alfred told her. Before Severus could ask, he continued, “The girls are introducing him to the rabbits. Don’t expect them back anytime soon.”

“He’s not as polite as he makes himself to be,” Severus said dryly. He didn’t have high expectations of Potter’s ability to play-act and pretend to be anything other than what he was. Better to set the family straight on Potter’s true nature. “His mother and I despair of him sometimes. He’s been acting out quite a bit recently.”

Nana Bea and Alfred listened raptly with matching frowns.

“I’ve had complaints of other students being bullied by him at school; he barely turns his homework in, and when he does, the quality of work is deplorable. He acts out in class. Claudia,” (his fictional mother), “hoped I might be able to set him straight. Probably the only reason she allowed him to stay with me this year. She hoped to have a peaceful Christmas with her husband for once.”

“Truly?” Nana Bea gasped.

“She’s spoiled him too much, and she’s reaping the consequences for it,” Severus nodded. Turning to Alfred, he decided to enact his plan to have the boy work on the farm. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“Of course, Severus. Anything I can,” Alfred said earnestly.

“If you need an extra hand around the farm, then feel free to rope Harry in to help. I was hoping you could show him what a good work ethic looks like. I don’t want him lazing about.”

Alfred nodded thoughtfully.

“He seems like a good lad,” Alfred said bemusedly.

“He looks innocent,” Severus said darkly. “Don’t be taken in by the act.”

Warning delivered, Severus turned back to Nana Bea, listening to her talk about her various great-grandchildren. He noticed Alfred watching them closely but didn’t pay any mind. Alfred was often silent around Severus. The two cousins barely talked to each other.

ooOoo

So that’s the way Snape wanted to play it, Harry thought to himself.

He hadn’t meant to overhear but coming back in to use the loo, Harry couldn’t help himself. Nothing Snape thought about him was new. He already knew the bat thought all those things about him. Harry just didn’t expect him to repeat it to his family, though it shouldn’t have surprised him. Harry knew his reasons for spending Christmas this year with the Snapes weren’t altruistic, but Snape was just spiteful.

Harry would just have to act opposite to what Snape told his family. Snape would get on well with the Dursleys. Only seeing Harry miserable brought them any peace.

He felt it would annoy Snape if Harry got along with his family. If Snape wanted a peaceful Christmas, he should have worked with Harry. Now, Harry would win over Snape’s family, especially Nana Bea. The only person Snape’s eyes crinkled in warmth for.

He would need to act his arse off and work harder than he had for the Dursleys. Glancing speculatively towards the kitchen, he knew just where to start.

He smiled to himself as he walked off towards the loo.

Chapter 4 – Upstaged

Severus should have known that Potter could charm his hapless, muggle family. Despite his words of warning, Nana Bea and Alfred were taken in by the boy, who’d clearly inherited his father’s ability to dazzle the weak-willed. Alfred was feeble-minded to begin with, but Severus expected Nana Bea to be made of sterner stuff.

When Severus had first moved in with Nana Bea after his fifth year at Hogwarts, he was stunned at how quickly she got the measure of him. Living with her for two years also showed how discerning she was to people trying to pull a fast one on her. It took Severus years and every ounce of Slytherin cunning to try and fool her, no easy feat given he couldn’t tell her about magic.

It galled Severus that Potter managed it so quickly. He hated Potters and their charm. First, James Potter, who bullied him mercilessly under everyone’s noses, got away with blaming Severus. James Potter took his best friend and turned her against him. She had been like a sister to Severus, and though he knew he had been the one to push her away, he had hoped they might reconcile one day. But then she agreed to date Potter, and Severus decided to join the Death Eater ranks.

Now, here was Harry Potter, taking Severus’ family, fooling them into thinking he was hardworking, harmless and innocent. This was intolerable. Potter couldn’t act like the perfect great-grandson to Nana Bea. He needed Potter to be his usual bratty self so that they would never ask after the boy again.

He needed to separate Potter from Alfred’s youngest girls, Laurel, Bethany and Alexandra, who stuck to the boy like shadows, and Maya, Jacqueline’s daughter. He couldn’t blame them, really. They were impressionable young children. He was only grateful Sarah was more intelligent and remained polite and distant from the brat. He always liked Sarah. She was studious and clever. Not the typical gossipy girls that he had to put up with at Hogwarts sometimes. Had she been magical, she would have been a good fit for Ravenclaw. And never showed off like the Granger chit. She was in her final year in college and was studying for her A levels, so spent most of her time in her room revising. Severus approved of his studious second cousin.

It had started off with Potter helping Jacqueline in the kitchen. Helping her slice vegetables for stews and such. Then pitching in to look after the children. Alexandra spent more time with Potter than her own siblings, much to the family’s bemusement. Severus didn’t know the toddler well, but she was apparently clingy, not going to anyone but Alfred and Nana Bea. Alfred told him Gloria often complained about how her youngest daughter abandoned her for her father. But since whatever magic Potter wrought, she refused to go to anyone but Potter, though Nana Bea was still a strong contender.

Severus assured himself that the novelty of having his long-awaited son had everyone exclaiming over him all the time. However, what surprised Severus was how little Prince Potter had complained. With Gloria busy at the hospital, Nana Bea in her wheelchair and Alfred and Bartholomew at the Veterinary practice, that only left Jacqueline at home to cook. Though Severus could help in the kitchen, handy as he was with a knife, cooking was not a skill he had mastered, though he had no doubt that he could do so if he put his mind to it. He simply never needed to. During the summer, he made do with sandwiches, ready meals from the local supermarket or takeaway. The rest of the year he spent at Hogwarts, where the school House-Elves took care of, well, everything, really.

Jacqueline was simply the most capable of them all to cook for them. That didn’t necessarily mean that she was a good cook. Her food was borderline inedible, to be quite frank. Sadly, she was better than anyone else in the family. It was a good thing that Severus never had high expectations for a Christmas Dinner, which he dutifully choked down without complaint, just like the rest of the family.

Potter was probably used to the best food with his family, who indulged his every whim and cooked whatever he wanted. Severus was glad Potter had enough preservation to understand that if he dared complain, then he would strip the boy a new hide.

“What are you making for lunch today, Mum?” One of Jacqueline’s twin boys, Andrew, said, coming into the Sitting room.

Both her boys were football mad and seemed to relish any chance of using the fields to play football, no matter the weather. If it rained too hard, they would use one of the empty stables. Today was dry, miraculously, but it had rained quite hard yesterday, so the ground was muddy. Though the boys had removed their shoes, their jeans carried the evidence of last night’s weather.

“No chippies,” Jacqueline said without looking up from her Take That magazine, answering the unasked question.

“Can we make pasta?” Maya asked, coming up behind them. Though not as football-mad as her brothers, she was still more sporty than Alfred’s girls and fiercely competitive with her brothers.

“We?”

“What we make can’t be any less palatable than your cooking,” Brian smirked.

“Palatable? Big words, little man,” Jacqueline laughed.

“All we need to do is boil some pasta and add a jar of Dolmio,” Andrew told her.

“We don’t have any Dolmio sauce, and I’m not buying any. We have fresh homegrown tomatoes; we can make our own sauce,” Jacqueline said, going back to her magazine.

“There’s no point in having fresh homegrown ingredients if you’re going to butcher them,” Andrew pointed out.

“Or burn them,” Brian added.

“Or boil them into mush,” the words slipped out from Severus’ mouth before he could even think about it.

All occupants looked at him with varying degrees of astonishment, and Severus had to fight back a flush that threatened to grace his cheeks. Jacqueline looked at him with a dropped jaw over her magazine.

“My apologies,” he mumbled, turning back to his Potions booked glamoured to look like a Chemistry book.

“Mutiny, revolt, dissent, defiance,” Jacqueline announced dramatically, throwing her magazine to the side.

“Food,” the children chorused together.

“All right, all right,” Jacqueline said. Then holding her hands to her sons, she said, “Help me up.”

Grabbing a hand each, the boys pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s go check what we have in the kitchen,” she threw over her shoulder as she ambled into the kitchen. “Where are the girls and Harry?”

“In the rabbit hutch,” Maya said promptly.

Nana Bea chuckled.

“Oh, those girls have your son wrapped around their fingers,” she said, turning to Severus.

He had to fight once more, this time from scowling.

“As long he’s staying out of trouble,” he harrumphed instead.

“Alfred’s been putting him to work around the farm. He’s helped muck out the stables and feed the animals. He collected the eggs from the henhouse and helped Alfred and Barry unload their equipment into the office. Alfred’s said Harry’s done more in the last two days than Jacky’s boys have in a month. All without complaining. Oh, and Jacky said she’s never had a more helpful assistant in the kitchen.”

Severus had to fight harder to keep his scowl in check.

“Glad to see the boy’s developing a solid work ethic,” Severus managed to choke out instead. The boy was a better actor than Severus anticipated. Surely, he would show his true colours soon enough.

ooOoo

Harry didn’t have to act as much as he thought he would. He found that he enjoyed being in the kitchen without Aunt Petunia breathing and berating him over his shoulder. Certainly, Jacky seemed to relish having a helper around mealtimes. Though her own kids helped around the kitchen and did chores when asked, it was not without complaints and grumbling before they reluctantly complied.

After Snape’s bitter diatribe, he thought he would have to work harder to win over Alfred and his brother-in-law, Barry, who was Jacky’s husband. Harry did the jobs they asked of him without complaint, and though Alfred (and Barry) looked over to see if he’d done them correctly, he didn’t think they checked on him because they didn’t trust him. Harry instead thought they checked because they thought he might need help.

And then there were the kids. Andrew and Brian were politely inquisitive but otherwise left Harry to it. Maya wasn’t too bad, though she followed her brothers around most of the time. Harry wasn’t a big fan of football and, when asked to play, preferred to be the goalkeeper. He hadn’t seen much of Sarah, Alfred’s oldest daughter, who reminded Harry of Hermione in her studiousness and drive. She wanted to become a doctor, and from what Harry had seen, she was single-minded enough to accomplish that. Thankfully, she wasn’t as uptight as Hermione could sometimes be.

However, Alfred’s other daughters had latched onto Harry, and he didn’t even know what they found interesting about him. Harry, likewise, found he didn’t mind that they hung around him. When not doing chores or helping in the kitchen, Harry spent the rest of the time with the girls in the rabbit hutch, constantly trying to persuade Beth not to sneak Marley, their oldest, black but greying rabbit, into the house, where they were forbidden to take him.

“Harry? I’m hungry,” Lexi said, pulling on Harry’s coat.

“So am I,” Laurel added.

“Let’s go inside then. See if Aunt Jacky needs help in the kitchen,” Harry said, straightening up.

“Piggyback,” Lexi demanded, holding out her arms.

Harry smiled but, obliging, knelt down with his back to her so she could jump on. He stood up, made sure her grip was tight, held onto her securely and jerked his head at the other two.

“Let’s go,” he said brightly.

To be honest, Jacky wasn’t the greatest of cooks, which Harry found odd since most of their ingredients came from the farm. The whole family preferred organic food to the pre-packaged stuff on supermarket shelves. Harry gathered that they had a trade with most neighbouring farms, so it was quite a close-knit community. Harry ate whatever was on his plate without objection, though. And Jacky filled his plate so much he never gave the leftovers a look of longing for seconds.

The Dursleys never cared if he ate enough, and Harry was grateful whenever he had food that complaining felt like sacrilege. After all, he could have been back in Privet Drive slaving away for his ungrateful relatives, a term they often assigned to Harry, who only punished him and never praised his efforts, never mind the results.

Upon entering the house, they all immediately took off their shoes and into house slippers specifically placed there for everyone. Harry even had his own, the sight of which brought a smile to his face every time.

“What’s for eating, Aunt Jacky?” Laurel asked, entering the kitchen.

Harry saw that everyone was already there, including Nana Bea and Snape. Jacky and her sons were rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.

“Well,” Jacky sighed, “we have plenty of bread and eggs. Some slices of cheese and tomatoes. Some leftover ham slices. We need to go shopping for more food, really, but that’ll take more patience than you lot have.”

“Omelette?” Maya suggested.

“I don’t want omelette,” Beth wrinkled her nose.

“You mean you don’t want Mum’s omelette,” Andrew smirked. He had to duck a tea towel his mother threw at him.

“Sandwiches then?” Nana Bea said resignedly.

Snape stayed silent as he watched everyone.

“Not enough cheese or ham slices,” Jacky shook her head. “Maybe we’ll get three or four sandwiches. Six if we’re stingy with the fillings.”

“We could boil some eggs and make egg mayonnaise sandwiches,” Harry suggested. “Or maybe fried eggs.”

“Mum can’t fry eggs,” Maya interrupted. “It’s like eating rubber. That’s why we all have cereal or toast in the morning.”

“I could fry the eggs if you want,” Harry offered.

They all turned to look at him.

“You can cook?” Laurel asked.

“Frying an egg can hardly constitute as cooking,” Snape scoffed.

“You try doing it then,” Nana Bea looked at Snape with a raised brow.

Snape couldn’t hold her gaze.

“Let Harry do the fried eggs,” Jacky suggested. “We’ll make ham and cheese sandwiches. We’ve got plenty of eggs, so we’ll also boil some eggs like Harry said. Now, who wants what?”

Harry wasn’t surprised to see Snape wanted sandwiches. Though, when Nana Bea said she’d try Harry’s eggs, he was touched.

“I’ll have fried eggs as well, Harry,” Jacky smiled brightly. “It’ll be nice to have someone else’s cooking for a change.”

“Us too,” Brian joked.

“Less talk, you,” Jacky shook her head. “My own children. No loyalty.”

“I want fry egg too, Harry,” Lexi piped up.

Harry smiled at the little girl. She was so cute. He moved towards the stove and pulled out the frying pan from the cupboard next to it. He had oil heating up in the pan and was cracking eggs expertly with one hand in no time. He was aware that Snape was boring his eyes into Harry’s back, but he ignored it. Frying eggs was easy.

“Go sit at the table, Lexi,” Harry said gently. “I don’t want you to get hurt with the hot oil here.”

“Okay,” Lexi nodded and sat in the chair next to Nana Bea. Harry didn’t notice the elderly woman watching him as he pulled out a second frying pan to have more eggs frying. Jacky had roped Andrew and Brian into assembling sandwiches with her. Sarah came down and was immediately told to help Andrew butter slices of bread for the sandwiches. Even Snape was tasked to slice tomatoes and onions for the sandwiches, which he did with the same precision as he did with potion ingredients.

Jacky and Maya were over at the conveyor toaster, adding in slices of bread only to have it slip on the other side of the belt and come out a nice golden brown colour. Soon enough, they had a massive mound of toast ready. Harry quickly looked in the fridge and saw button mushrooms and spring onions. He’d seen the spring onions growing in the gardens.  Seeing Snape was done with the chopping board and knife and helping butter the toast, Harry sneaked it over to himself and chopped and diced another onion, tomato, mushrooms and spring onions. Adding a knob of butter to one of the frying pans, he dumped a portion of onions, mushrooms and tomatoes into the pan, letting them cook whilst he cracked a few eggs into a separate bowl and whisked them together.

“Sarah, Brian, grab the plates and glasses. Andrew get the drinks out of the fridge,” Jacky ordered. “Oh damn, I forgot to put the eggs on to boil.”

“We have plenty of fried eggs,” Brian said. “Harry’s not stopped making them.”

Harry blinked as he realised he was making food on autopilot.

“Oh, sorry. Did I make too many?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Barry and Alfred will be along,” Jacky said dismissively. “All right, everyone, carry it all into the dining room, please.”

Although there was a small table and some chairs in the kitchen, with the number of people around all the time, the dining room was where they ate as a family.

Snape carried the platter of toast away, Nana Bea wheeling her chair behind him. A single plate of sandwiches that Harry suspected was more tomato and onion than ham and cheese was taken by Sarah.

Andrew, Brian and Maya carried the plates and glasses between them while Laurel and Beth followed with cutlery.

“Almost done, Harry?” Jacky asked, coming to stand beside him. “Oh, wonderful, you made omelettes as well.”

She blinked as Harry flipped the omelette without breaking it.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

Survival, Harry thought.

“My aunt, my mum’s elder sister, said it was a useful skill to learn,” Harry answered honestly. “She taught me some basics.”

“Maybe you could teach me a few things. It’ll stop that rabble from complaining all the time,” she said, jerking her head at the closed door.

The door opened on cue, and Andrew stuck his head through.

“Are you bringing those eggs through or not, Mother,” the sixteen-year-old mocked.

“Go sit your backside down,” Jacky sneered back just as mockingly. “Harry and I will be through in a minute. Ready, Harry?”

Harry nodded. He turned off the stove, added the last of the fried eggs to the plate already overflowing, and did the same with the omelette, which he folded in half and added to the second plate he’d placed next to the stove.

Jacky picked up the two plates of fried eggs in each hand while Harry followed behind with his plate of omelettes. They heard the front door open just as Jacky placed the fried eggs on the table.

“Food’s ready,” she yelled towards the front door. “Wash your hands and come through!”

They all winced at the suddenness of it.

They all waited patiently (just) for Alfred and Barry to come through. They returned a minute or two later with their sleeves rolled up and hands and faces scrubbed.

“Excellent,” Alfred said, rubbing his hands together. “What delicious crap have you made for us today?”

“Nana, look how they tease me,” Jacky shook her head. “You know, if you all find my cooking so abhorrent, you’re welcome to take over the kitchen anytime.”

“All right, all right, drama queen,” Alfred teased his sister. “We know you try. You’re the best of us, at least.”

“Can we start?” Brian said impatiently.

Barry and Alfred obligingly sat down in the only empty seats. Lexi had run over to Harry, who sat next to Jacky, so there was one seat next to Nana Bea and one on the other side of Snape.

“The eggs look all right,” Barry commented, reaching for the plate in front of them.

“See, Mum? This is what fried eggs are supposed to look like,” Andrew teased, holding the plate under her nose.

“Ah, I see. You mean they’re not supposed to have cremated edges?” Jacky shook her head in wonder.

“And look, the yolks are runny,” Laurel added, poking hers with a fork.

Brian snorted in laughter.

“This omelette is amazing,” Sarah raved. “It’s so fluffy. Dad, taste this.”

Alfred took half an omelette from the plate placed in front of him. Barry took the other half.

“Wow, this is good,” her husband complimented. “Jacky, love, you’ve definitely improved.”

Brian snorted. “Like Mum could cook like this.”

“Who made this?” Alfred asked curiously.

“Take a guess,” Jacky laughed.

“Well, Gloria’s usually quite good, but she’s not here,” Alfred reasoned. “And Nana, I love you, but you never made omelettes like this. Severus?”

Snape shook his head. He was the only one who took a sandwich.

“Sarah?” Alfred guessed.

She shook her head.

Alfred had a puzzled look on his face as he looked around the table. Harry stayed silent, pouring Lexi half a glass of Irn Bru she was allowed.

“It was Harry,” Beth burst out, egg yolk dripping down her chin.

“Clean your face, love,” Jacky advised, ripping off a bit of kitchen roll and holding it for her niece.

“Well done, Harry,” Alfred praised.

“You can make me an omelette like this any time,” Barry added around a mouthful.

Harry nodded his head, feeling pleased. He felt terrible for the teasing Jacky was enduring. Her cooking wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as bad as they were all making it out to be.

“I’m heading into Stockport after we’re done eating,” Jacky announced. “Who wants to come with me?”

Harry looked up from his plate and dared to answer, darting a glance towards Snape. “I’d like to go if Dad will let me.”

“Me too,” Lexi piped up.

“Of course,” Alfred rolled his eyes, though he didn’t seem annoyed.

“Why wouldn’t your dad let you go?” Jacky asked without expecting an answer.

Harry darted another glance towards Snape, who was glaring at him.

ooOoo

Of course Potter wanted to go out. A murderous psychotic Death Eater was scouring the country for him, but Prince Potter wanted to go shopping. The silly risks the boy wanted to take with his life were ridiculous.

Now, Potter put him in an awkward position where Severus would be the ogre if he disagreed. And they didn’t know that there was a murderer after Potter, so his refusal wouldn’t make sense.

“You could come with us,” Potter said, still looking at Snape hesitantly.

“Why not, Severus,” Jacqueline shrugged, beginning to collect the emptying plates and stacking them up.

“What did you need, Harry?” Severus asked, looking at the boy through narrowed eyes, the brat’s name still unnatural on his tongue.

Potter darted a glance around the table, everyone looking at them curiously.

“Er, Mum gave me some spending money, and I wanted to look at new shoes. And I still have to get a few Christmas presents,” the boy mumbled, not looking directly at anyone.

“I need to get some new pens and a notebook,” Sarah added.

“Oh, Mum, can you get some Pritt stick for me? And some more colourful cards?” Maya begged.

“Everyone just make a list of what you want,” Jacky ordered. “And whatever you want to eat for the next few days. Andrew, Brian, help me with the dishes, won’t you? I’ll check the pantry and see what we need to stock up on.”

Severus nodded. It would be better if he went along, loathe as he was to venture out. Christmas shopping in the wizarding world was horrendous. The muggle world, being infinitely more crowded, would be worse.

“Nana, did you need anything?” Jacqueline asked as she gathered all the glasses.

Alfred and Bartholomew quickly scribbled a few items down for Jacqueline.

Severus jerked his head towards Potter. He hastened to comply, scrambling out of his seat. He didn’t notice Alfred and Nana Bea looking after them as they left the room. He didn’t say anything until they entered the den, at which point Severus immediately put up a Silencing Charm and then rounded on Potter.

“What are you playing at, Potter?” he hissed.

“I’m here as your son,” Potter started defensively.

Distracted, Severus scowled. “So?”

“So,” Potter said slowly, looking at Severus as if he was being dumb, “it would look suspicious if I didn’t give you anything for Christmas.”

He was brought up short. He should have thought about that. Why hadn’t he?

“What can I get you that won’t make them suspicious?” Potter asked.

Severus looked at Potter dubiously as he thought hard. He would have to do the same for Potter, he realised. He’d already bought gifts for everyone else. For the children, he did the same as always; he gave them Christmas cards with £50 inside. The teens generally got to keep the money, whereas those under ten had their money kept safe by their parents. He also sent money every year for their birthdays for the same amount.

“A book of some sort,” Snape said dismissively. He doubted he would enjoy anything Potter got him. “What about you?”

Potter looked surprised. Severus doubted it was genuine.

“Just get a card and put some money in it. I’ll give it back to you,” Potter said just as dismissively. “Or I can give you some cash, and you can stick that in a card, so you’ll only be giving me my own money back.”

“We’ll do something like that,” Severus agreed slowly. “What else do you need?”

Potter gave him a look of confusion.

“There was another reason you wanted to go out,” he pointed out.

“I still needed to get something for my, er, relatives,” Potter admitted slowly. “I usually do an owl order and send Hedwig, my owl, but I told Hedwig to stay at Hogwarts during break. But I wanted to get them something for when we’re back at Hogwarts. I was going to send them a belated present.”

“And receive your own, no doubt,” Severus said dryly. At least Potter hadn’t wholly forsaken his muggle family to escape trouble. Then, changing the topic abruptly, he asked, “Where did you learn how to cook?”

Potter took longer to answer than warranted.

“My aunt taught me,” Potter said, oddly stiff. “She said it was a useful skill to know.”

Severus had been surprised to see Potter comfortable in the kitchen. Having observed the boy in the classroom, he had been reluctantly impressed by Potter’s knife skills. Less so, however, by his haphazard manner of throwing ingredients into the cauldron with no respect. One would think Potter could translate cooking to Potion making. Then again, Severus couldn’t fry an egg. He resolved to correct that. If Potter could do it, then so could he. It couldn’t be that hard.

“Get ready to go, Potter,” Severus said suddenly.

Potter nodded, turning around to grab whatever he needed from his trunk. Severus took a quick look around. The den looked tidy. He nodded to himself. At least Potter wasn’t acting like a slob and slovenly throwing his clothes and whatnot about as if he owned the place.

Still, Severus had the feeling, as he left the den and made his way up to his room in the attic, that he’d been managed somehow.

ooOoo

Shopping trips with Aunt Petunia were practically military in nature. Petunia made a list of what she needed, most of which were Dudley’s favourites. If Dudley and Harry were with them, Dudley would spend the whole trip picking out several sweets, magazines and games. Harry was left to get what was on the list, exactly what was on the list, and nothing else. Harry was well versed in what substitutes he was allowed to make with brands.

Shopping with the Weasleys could be chaos. He had spent many weeks in the summer before his second year there, including at least three shopping trips. Mrs Weasley also had hens and her own herb and vegetable garden, but they bought or bartered everything else. Mrs Weasley seemed to have a sixth sense for bargains but never gave up the quality. Though Mrs Weasley had a strict budget, given the state of their finances that was reasonable, she always walked away with everything she walked in for. Ron didn’t like to go shopping with his mother usually, only going because Harry had been curious about the difference between muggle and magical shopping because he would never get what he wanted.

Harry had sneakily slipped some extra sickles into Mrs Weasley’s coin purse a few times, as he felt he was more likely to get away with sickles than galleons. He hoped it helped her with the shopping. Harry never did it out of charity. It was because he felt guilty that they had to stretch their food to accommodate Harry as well. He knew they would never accept the money if he offered it outright. Hence the sneaking. Ron was his best friend, and Harry would feel lost without him, but Harry admitted to himself he hated it when the other complained about never having any money. He had parents who looked after him and ensured he had food on the table and a roof over his head. He had clothes for school and books for his education.

Harry could understand that the wants pile up when your needs are fulfilled. Ron felt his wants were unfulfilled, but he didn’t appreciate that his needs were met.

The Dursleys fulfilled Dudley’s needs and wants. Harry got none of the latter and a grudging tolerance of the former.

Pulling his thoughts away from the Dursleys and Weasleys, he thought about shopping with the Snapes. This shopping experience was a curious mix of Weasleys and Dursleys. Jacky knew precisely what she wanted, having made a list before they left the house, but also took advantage of bargains.

They had been in Stockport town centre for half an now. The whole time Snape walked around looking like he was sucking on a lemon, which at least had the effect of the general public throwing themselves out of his way. It was bizarre for Harry to see him stalk down the street without his billowing robes.

Snape stuck to Harry like glue, watchful eyes constantly flitting about. Harry didn’t think Snape would appreciate being called an overgrown bodyguard, but that’s what it felt like. Harry almost expected the soundtrack of I Will Always Love You to blare out and for Snape to take Harry in his arms and carry him back to the car, if only so they could go home. Aunt Petunia made Uncle Vernon watch the film on VHS in the summer. Uncle Vernon had slept through it. Harry had watched from his position on the stairs, knowing he wouldn’t be disturbed by Dudley, who had been out with a friend. A week later, Aunt Marge arrived.

Still, Harry had managed to get presents for Ron and Hermione. Curiously, Snape wandered off, leaving Harry alone with Lexi (who refused to leave his side) for an hour. Harry wasn’t stupid enough to disobey Snape’s instructions to take longer than that time, so he quickly took advantage of the time to himself and bought the extra gifts for the Snape family.

After the incident with Aunt Marge in the summer and being left with no muggle money, Harry learned his lesson and made sure to exchange enough galleons to muggle pounds, so he didn’t have to worry about being left stranded. He’d been lucky with the Knight Bus, but he should have been better prepared.

He picked up some generic Christmas jumpers for everyone, but the selection wasn’t the greatest, given how close it was to the end of the season.

He picked out football jerseys for Andrew and Brian- they both supported Manchester City. He got some boxing gloves and focus pads set for Maya, knowing she was trying to persuade her parents to let her go to the local Kickboxing club. Sarah was a little harder but decided to get her the same thing he got for Hermione, several wooden puzzles and a Rubix cube. For Laurel, Beth and Lexi, he bought them matching Charms bracelets with their initials; using Lexi’s naivety, he even got her to pick some charms.

Lexi was getting tired of all the walking they were doing, so he ended up carrying her and his school bag he’d brought along to hide his gifts in. It was a magical one, so it was already bewitched with featherlight and expansion charms, a boon given all the shopping he was loading into it. For Jacky, he got her a basic cookbook, hoping it would be well received, but like Gloria, who also didn’t see much over the last few days, he picked up some perfume. Lexi was quite helpful there because although she couldn’t read, she recognised some of the shapes of the fragrances her mother used. After testing the various scents, Harry and Lexi picked out two bottles of the same brands but different scents for Jacky and Gloria.

Alfred and Barry were also difficult to shop for, but he remembered they both liked reading autobiographies and picked out a book each. Nana Bea was quite reserved; however, Harry noticed she was quite watchful but not in the same scary way Snape was. Harry followed his gut instinct and bought her a camera and extra film to go with it. He even picked out a onesie for Jacky and Barry’s new baby. She was only five months pregnant, but Harry couldn’t resist when he saw the red onesie that said Party 2am. My crib. Bring the bottle.

That only left Snape to buy a gift for. With only fifteen minutes and a rapidly tiring toddler, Harry stepped into a second-hand bookstore he’d spotted near one of the charity shops. Oddly, he got the same buzzing feeling at Snape’s house – magic. Curiously, he looked around. The place was well-lit and even had a café at the back. Still, he pulled his beanie down lower, making sure his scar was covered and hitched Lexi higher on his hip.

“Are you okay?” he asked, feeling guilty for dragging her everywhere with him for the last hour. She’d surprised him with her patience when he was trying on cheap trainers at the Shoe Tree. Because they were so cheap and Harry had enough muggle currency on him, he bought himself two identical pairs. He’d heard they’d last longer if he alternated wearing them.

She nodded, but Harry could tell she was exhausted.

“Last stop, and then we’ll go to Asda and find Aunt Jacky, okay?”

She yawned, laid her head against his shoulder, and fell asleep in minutes. Harry looked around the bookshop curiously. He found a section that seemed to be about herbs of the medicinal variety. The title The Alchemy of Herbs caught Harry’s attention at first. Then when he went to pick it up, there was another tingle across his fingers. He looked at the author’s name, feeling he should recognise it. It seemed familiar enough. He flicked through the pages, which seemed pristine enough. It was clearly a second-hand book but didn’t seem to be annotated by the previous owner. Harry noticed it was number 14 in the series. He took another quick look through the shelves and saw another book, The Alchemy of Numbers. That was number 11.

Looking at his watch, he noticed he was running out of time. Still, he took another glance around the shelves and saw numbers 17 and 19 in the Alchemy series. Taking them to the till, he placed them on the counter, grateful there was no queue.

“We have some more books of the same collection if you’re wanting them,” the woman behind the till said.

“Oh, er – yes, please,” Harry said. “Only, will it take you long? I’m in a bit of a rush, and I don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll be back in a mo,” she said with a smile.

She was back by the time Harry had manoeuvred Lexi to his other side and pulled out his wallet to pay. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was a witch because of how quickly she came back.

“It’s a twenty-four series book, but it’s been dotted about a few different shelves,” the woman was saying. “I’ve had them for years; no one else has looked at them. I’m glad to be rid of them now.”

Harry listened to her chatter with a polite smile, trying to figure out how to broach the subject.  He ended up spending more than he budgeted for on the books, having only planned to get one instead of twenty-four, but the woman gave him a hefty discount, especially after he said it was a gift for his dad.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“You’ll be doing me a favour,” the woman waved away his protests. “They might have been here for a few years more otherwise. For wizards and witches who don’t live in Stockport, this is a word-of-mouth type place.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond to that. He resisted the urge to adjust his beanie, which would call attention to his scar. He had spent the last two years covering his scar with his fringe, but in the end, that drew more attention, so Harry had to force himself not to react at all.

“Do you want help putting it in your bag?”

“Thank you,” he accepted, smiling more sincerely.

She came around the till and carefully took Lexi from him. Harry added his newly acquired books to his school bag, not asking how she knew it was enchanted.

Placing his schoolbag back across both shoulders, he carefully took Lexi back.

He dropped a five-pound note into the charity box in front of her. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you, too,” she smiled back at him.

Harry struggled through the crowd to get to the entrance to the escalators outside Asda, where he was told to meet Snape and Jacky. He sighed in relief and saw he still had a minute to spare.

Standing to the side, he was adjusting his grip on Lexi when he felt someone reaching overhead. Tightening his grip on the girl, he instinctively reacted. Spinning on the spot, he kicked out with all his strength. He heard a yell of pain and stepped back, getting ready to run. He froze when he saw Snape on the ground and Jacky looking horrified next to him.

Chapter 5 – Get into the Groove

“Sir? I’m really so-”

Potter stopped speaking abruptly as Severus slashed his hand violently in the air. He didn’t notice Potter flinch at the action or track his hand until he brought it back to his side. His shin was throbbing, and he wanted to go back to his room to inspect his leg, quaff down a Pain-Reliever, and maybe apply some dittany. Definitely some Bruise Paste.

He limped inside the house and awkwardly up two flights of stairs until he reached his room in the attic. He took off his trench coat and threw it across the room onto the chair. Summoning his potions kit, he sat on the bed and downed a Pain-Reliever, sighing in relief. Who knew a scrawny brat like Potter could kick like a mule?

Gingerly, he rolled up the hem of his trousers, wincing at the size of the bruise. His usually pale leg was black and blue. Picking out the Bruise Paste, he dabbed it delicately onto his shin. He’d placed a Tracking Charm on Potter the whole time, so, against his better judgement, he’d allowed Potter to go off alone with a three-year-old; he knew where Potter was the entire time. In that time, he’d done his own shopping, helped Jacqueline with hers, and had everything loaded into the car, and then they went to the entrance where they told Potter to wait for them.

In hindsight, it was silly of Severus to reach for Potter without letting him know he was there. He’d only meant to help Potter by relieving his burden. He didn’t know how long Alexandra had been sleeping, but he’d meant to help Potter, not harm him.

The drive back from Stockport had been in painful silence, literally for Severus. Jacqueline hadn’t chattered the whole time, which was uncharacteristic of her, but he appreciated the quiet. Now, having calmed down with his pain muted and leg tended to, Severus could reluctantly admire Potter’s swift and aggressive reaction.

With a mad murderer like Black after him, he couldn’t fault the boy for his reaction, as much as he didn’t appreciate it as it was happening thirty minutes ago. Severus had tuned out the boy’s rambling explanation but knew he needed to go speak to Potter. Later, though, he thought, tucking the Potion’s kit into the bedside drawer and lying back. Much like Alexandra, he needed a nap after the entire ordeal.

ooOoo

Harry sat on his cot, knees drawn up with his arms and head resting on his knees. His heart had stopped hammering in the car, but he was still anxious. Jacky tried to brush the whole thing under the rug and sent Harry inside, calling for the others to come and help with Lexi (who slept through the entire thing) and the shopping.

Harry had been glad for the reprieve but, on the other hand, felt like he was waiting for the axe to fall. A blustering and yelling Snape was easy to handle; as long as he was screaming at Harry, he would not be expected to make any explanations, not that Snape cared. A silent Snape reminded him of a silent Uncle Vernon – so much more dangerous because what comes next would be painful for Harry.

An hour or so later, a knock at the den door made Harry flinch, but he quickly calmed himself and, in an unexpectedly hoarse voice, called out, “Come in.”

To his surprise, Sarah poked her head through but didn’t enter the room, keeping the door partially closed.

“Hi Harry,” her voice was hesitant to begin with but continued firmly. “We kicked out Aunt Jacky from the kitchen and told her we’d make the meal for today. She brought us a recipe book. Are you okay with helping us?”

“Please, Harry?” Maya’s voice called from behind Sarah.

Sarah’s lips twitched.

“What about – where’s S-” he had to stop himself from saying Snape.

“Your dad’s in his room. Aunt Jacky went to check on him, but he’s fallen asleep,” Sarah told him. “So she made sure he was alright and left him to it.”

“We’re making pasta. Can you help us make pasta?” Maya called out again.

“Please?” Harry heard several voices call out.

Harry relaxed slightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah. I can make pasta. Er, I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Sarah smiled at him, looking pleased. “We’ll be in the kitchen.”

Harry took a deep breath as she left, closing the door behind her. He needed to calm down. He hadn’t hurt Snape on purpose; Snape must realise that. But Harry had grown up with the Dursleys, who never cared if Harry did things by accident or whether his intentions were well-meaning. Someone punished Harry regardless of what he meant. And no matter how friendly Snape’s muggle family was and how quickly they had accepted Harry into their fold for Christmas, Snape was still Snape. He still hated Harry for something that Harry had no control over. He hated Harry for reasons Harry didn’t understand. Snape was just like the Dursleys. He might like his own family, but he’d like it better if Harry didn’t exist.

Everything else was just pretend. So, now he needed to pretend that kicking Snape wasn’t a big deal. Snape couldn’t do anything to Harry in front of his muggle family, though he knew once they were back at Hogwarts, Snape would find a reason to have Harry in detention, even if he had to make it up.

Harry made a quick trip to the bathroom before making his way to the kitchen. Apart from Lexi, everyone else was already waiting there. Harry wondered if she was still napping or if Jacky was keeping her away. The youngest Snape had been remarkably patient with Harry during his shopping trip. Though apparently, she was quite a placid toddler around him, Lexi wasn’t averse to throwing tantrums. Luckily, Harry had distracted her with juice and sweets and included her in his decision-making, which might have helped keep her occupied. He needed to wrap everyone’s gifts tonight after everyone had gone to sleep.

“What kind of pasta are we making?”

“Well,” Brian started and showed Harry the recipe book his mum had picked up from Asda while she had been browsing. Harry was glad it was different from the book he had picked out for Jacky.

Harry impressed the others by knowing several recipes off by heart. Macaroni and cheese was the simplest pasta for the others to learn, so Harry showed them how to make that. Sarah turned on the oven to preheat it, and Brian set the pasta to boil.

Jacky had also bought minced beef, so Harry offered to make Spaghetti Bolognese.

“I thought your mum wanted to make a homemade sauce with the tomatoes from the garden?” Harry asked when he noticed the jars of Dolmio sauce.

Andrew snorted. “She always says that.”

“She tries; bless her,” Brian continued. “Mum only seems to be good at making jam. She doesn’t seem to care about other food.”

“At least she bought a recipe book,” Sarah pointed out.

Harry had never actually made sauce from scratch. Even Aunt Petunia used the jarred kind. Deciding they had plenty of time, he used the recipe book and tried to make it from scratch. He set Sarah to chop the tomatoes whilst he seasoned the beef for the Bolognese.

As was his habit at the Dursleys, he cleaned up as he went along. Aunt Petunia hated a messy kitchen, and with so many of them in the room, it was easier than letting the used dishes accumulate. The others protested that they’d do the cleaning at the end, but Harry insisted.

Being in the kitchen with the Snapes (and Rogers, as that was Jacky’s married name) was quite fun. It was easy for Harry to deflect any questions about himself. They already knew Harry went to the same school Snape taught, but they’d made it sound like Harry only got in because Snape was his dad and got him a discount on school fees. Harry never knew if he was good at sports because he was too busy defending himself from Dudley and his gang, so Harry just said he’d never been into sports.

He spoke about his friends briefly, telling them about Ron and Hermione and how they were celebrating Christmas abroad in Egypt and France, respectively. Talking about schoolwork was slightly more complicated, but Harry had seen enough of Dudley’s books to carry the conversation despite not having a muggle education since he turned eleven. He said he hated History because the teacher was boring, which was true enough. He told them Snape piled on loads of expectations about his school marks and end-of-year exams but made it sound like he was a hard taskmaster because he didn’t want Harry to embarrass him with the other teachers, especially since it was such a prestigious school for the gifted.

He steered clear of any conversation about his supposed parents, Mum and Step-Dad as much as he could but often substituted Petunia and Vernon’s behaviour for his fictional parents’.

Apart from all that, Harry made sure he always asked more about the others rather than answering for himself.

So he knew, though Sarah would like to be a doctor, she was struggling with biology and English Literature but was working hard on her coursework and passing her exams. Brian wanted to be a Vet like his dad in his practice with Alfred. Andrew hated school and was better at sports but felt like he had no direction. Maya was constantly being told by boys at school that she couldn’t do certain things because she was a girl, and wanted to prove them wrong. Laurel and Beth missed their mum a lot because she was always working at the hospital, but she’d promised that she’d be home for Christmas, which was why she was hardly home in the days leading up to it.

They all loved Nana Bea and had been worried when she’d fallen in the garden and were surprised that she’d ended up in a wheelchair for so long because they’d been led to believe the fall wasn’t serious. They told him this was the longest time they’d spent with their Uncle Severus because he only usually came around for Christmas Eve and left not long after dinner on Christmas Day. Harry had to think hard for the past two years and realised that maybe Snape wasn’t hiding from the Christmas cheer in the dungeons as Harry thought but actually spent some of that time here. He also knew Snape was Draco Malfoy’s godson; therefore, he must be close to their family and spend time at Malfoy’s house.

They knew very little about Snape. They knew he was brilliant to go to that prestigious school in Scotland and study for his degree in Chemistry. They were confused as to why he was a teacher since he was so clever. They knew he only cared about Nana Bea because she received more personal gifts than anyone else, whereas the other adults got something thoughtful but generic. The kids only got money in their cards for Christmas, which they didn’t mind.

“It’s actually better, to be fair,” Sarah was saying as she stirred the tomato sauce they were making. “At least we can buy what we want instead of pretending to like what he’s got us. I wish Uncle Edward would do that instead of sending us those horrible Christmas jumpers that itch like mad.”

Harry didn’t know who Uncle Edward was but understood Sarah’s sentiment.

“He sends money for our birthdays as well,” Andrew added. “Fifty quid, just like Christmas.”

Harry didn’t mention that Snape would probably give him the same. Of course, whatever Snape thought, Harry wasn’t a freeloader. He would give the money back to Snape. Unless he took the money from Harry like he’d suggested earlier after lunch, Harry would only get his own money back.

“Look, it’s starting to snow again,” Laurel pointed out excitedly.

They all peered out the kitchen window. It was getting darker, but Harry could see the white flakes as they drifted across the window. It had apparently snowed at some point before Harry arrived; however, since he’d come to Marple, they’d experienced more rain and sleet than snow.

“How long until the food’s ready?” Beth asked.

“There’s still some time, Beth,” Sarah shook her head exasperatedly.

“I’m hungry,” the younger girl complained.

“Eat an apple then,” Sarah snapped in the way older siblings tended to.

Harry had noticed how close they all were to each other. They acted like brothers and sisters rather than cousins, even though they lived in separate houses. He and Dudley had grown up in the same house, but they were cousins in name only. That was how the Dursleys treated them. Harry was Cinderella, and Dudley was his wicked stepsister. That made Petunia his wicked stepmother.  But then, what was Uncle Vernon? The other stepsister, Harry decided ridiculously. That must mean Hagrid was his fairy godmother, he mused. Then snorted at his train of thought.

“Where did you learn how to cook?” Andrew asked keenly, paying particular interest to Harry making the Bolognese.

Self-defence, Harry thought to himself, not for the first time.  He didn’t say this out loud, though. He shrugged instead and said, “I just spent a lot of time in the kitchen as I was growing up. My aunt encouraged my family to keep me interested, so I just learned as I went along.”

“We spent a lot of time in the kitchen as well,” Andrew gestured to his brother and himself. “We should have paid more attention than just eating the jam Mum made.”

“You interested now, aye?” Sarah teased.

“If Harry teaches me,” Andrew said, slanting a sly look in Harry’s direction.

“If you want,” Harry shrugged again. “Start with something simple, like pasta which you just boil according to packet instructions. It’s not that hard, especially if you’re using Dolmio sauce. Find one dish you’d like to eat and keep practising. Taste as you’re going along.”

Sometimes that was the only bit of food Harry could sneak at the Dursleys.

Andrew nodded thoughtfully. He leaned away to pick up the recipe book Jacky had brought. It was already stained with various sauces and oils, even though they’d had it no more than an hour or two.

True to their word, the kids didn’t let any of their parents into the kitchen that evening. The twins carefully opened the door enough for the others to pass through with the cutlery and crockery. Any conversations the parents wanted to have with the youngsters were either yelled through the firmly closed kitchen door or on the other side.

Harry was the last to go through the dining room, having finished the last of the washing up and ensuring the kitchen was cleaned up as much as possible. He even put away the pots and pans they’d used and gave the counters a good scrub.

Drying his hands on the towel, he picked up the bottles of Coke and 7Up and walked into the Dining room, where everyone smiled appreciatively over the food.

“Come on, Harry,” Sarah beckoned with a smile.

The adults were herded at one end of the table, whereas the children made spaces at the other.

“Why is all the food closest to you lot?” Jacky complained, taking the bottles of drink from Harry as he seated himself between Lexi and Andrew.

Harry carefully avoided Snape’s eyes as he sat down.

“Because we cooked it,” Laurel smiled. “And it’s only fair we should try it first.”

“That’s unfair. When I cook, the food is always distributed evenly throughout the table,” Jacky frowned.

“Your food is awful, Mum,” Brian said bluntly. “So, everyone suffers equally.”

“Yeah, Mum. If it were up to you, we’d all be surviving on bread and jam,” Andrew joined in.

Alfred snorted in laughter but held his hands in surrender when Jacky directed her glare at him.  

“Lay off, you lot,” Barry defended, though he also had a smile. Placing an arm around her shoulder, he quipped, “I married your mother because of her jam.”

“She knew you liked it, so she made herself good at making it,” Alfred muttered.

Jacky nodded. “It worked, didn’t it? And anyway, be careful, or you might find yourself in the kitchen more often.”

Andrew shrugged, “Eh, we can handle that.”

“As long as we have Harry,” Brian tagged on.

“Enough talking. I’m starving. Can’t we start?” Sarah asked.

“Here, here,” Alfred and Barry said together.

For the next several minutes, all that was heard was the clinking of cutlery on plates and the spoons scraping in bowls as everyone served themselves. Harry spooned a small portion of macaroni onto Lexi’s plate and poured her a small glass of Coke before helping himself.  

“Pass me the salad, will you,” Jacky demanded. Her plate was already heaped with spaghetti and macaroni before she added some salad to it.

“The macaroni is perfect,” Barry complimented, taking up another forkful.

“What did you add to the Dolmio?” Nana Bea asked, tasting her Bolognese carefully.

“We didn’t use Dolmio,” Sarah told her.

“Harry made a fresh sauce,” Andrew added.

“Well done, Harry,” Barry praised. “We’ve never had food like this.”

Jacky huffed, but Harry was pleased (and relieved) to see she wasn’t taking it personally. In fact, she even reached for a second serving.

At Barry’s look, she said, “What? I’m eating for two. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, no, no,” Barry spoke hastily, wary of his wife’s wrath. “More Macaroni?”

“Yes, please,” she said, holding up her plate for Barry to spoon more pasta.

Harry felt a tug on his sleeve and turned his attention to Lexi. She pointed to the Spaghetti Bolognese.

“You want to try some of that?”

Lexi nodded, so Harry carefully added it to her plate. He topped up her glass with Lemonade instead of Coke but poured water from the jug into his own. The Dursleys never allowed him to drink fizzy drinks, though Dudley could do so to his heart’s content. The wizarding world had an array of fruit juices, yet nothing fizzy, which he found strange. However, having sampled Coke and other fizzy drinks at the Snapes, he decided that he preferred his beverages fizz-free.

“Did you make dessert as well?” Alfred asked hopefully, running his finger through the leftover sauce on his plate and popping it into his mouth.

“Apple crumble,” Beth beamed.

“No custard,” Sarah added. “We have ice cream in the freezer, though.”

“That’s acceptable,” Alfred nodded, then laughed as the kids sent him glares.

Seeing everyone was done, the twins looked at each other. “We’ll take the dishes through and bring back the crumble.”

“And ice cream,” Laurel piped in.

“You lot can wash them,” Andrew told them.

“That’s fair,” Barry nodded agreeably.

Dishwashing duty was often shared amongst the family.

Harry noticed Snape ate his meal silently and barely contributed to the conversation around him.

Leaving the younger girls at the table, the twins, Sarah and Harry carried through the dirty dishes back to the kitchen, carefully stacking them in the sink. Andrew opened the oven door and pulled out the Apple crumble dish. Sarah pulled out the giant tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. Between them, Harry and Brian grabbed new bowls from the cupboards and spoons (plus the ice cream scoop) and carried the whole lot back to the Dining room.

“That smells wonderful,” Nana Bea admired, craning her neck towards the dessert. “I do adore Apple crumble. You children have really stepped up today.”

“Custard would have been nice, though,” Jacky said.

“Ungrateful,” Andrew shook his head.

“We slaved away in the kitchen all afternoon for this,” Brian sighed.

“Drama queens,” Jacky muttered with a smirk.

“Apple crumble, please,” Lexi inserted, holding up her bowl.

That earned the three-year-old some chuckles, but no one wasted time digging into the huge dessert dish. Harry served himself a small portion of the crumble and decided against the ice cream. He preferred custard as well, but there’d been no cream in the fridge and none of the powdered stuff either, so he hadn’t been able to make any from scratch.

“Are you serving us tea as well?” Barry asked, leaning back in his chair with an air of satisfaction.

“Nope,” Maya answered, scraping the last of her ice cream, making everyone wince at the noise. “But I’ll have two sugars in mine.”

Jacky rolled her eyes.

“Half a job,” she mumbled but obligingly pushed back her chair. Still smiling, she said, “Excellent nosh, children. I formally hand the kitchen over to you lot. Forever. This lady’s on strike.”

“We’ll negotiate,” Sarah said after a brief pause in which the teens exchanged glances.

“Oh, we will,” Jacky promised with a laugh.

Harry hesitated briefly, feeling like he should help with the rest of the dishes. However, Lexi and Maya were already pulling him into the sitting room. Leaving the adults to take care of clearing the table, he smiled as the chatter of the others washed over him.

“Can we play Ludo?” Laurel asked.

ooOoo

Severus kept his sigh to himself, not looking forward to the cleaning if he was honest. He usually didn’t mind, but knowing how messy children could be, he expected the kitchen to look like Longbottom’s cauldron after an explosion.

So, when he walked (limped) into the kitchen (the first to do so), he froze with his arm full of dirty bowls as he stared around in disbelief. Bartholomew, who followed behind him holding several glasses, bumped into him.

“How bad is it?” Jacqueline asked in a resigned sort of voice from behind them, assuming the kitchen would be in shambles.

Severus stepped aside, still looking around. Slowly they all filed in, each giving the other a look of incredulity.

“You know,” Alfred said thoughtfully, “I genuinely believed they would be tomatoes spattered on the ceiling and spaghetti stuck to the wall. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“They’ve even washed the pots and pans,” Jacqueline commented, bottles of drinks in each hand.

“I’ll stick the kettle on and make tea,” Alfred said, placing the almost empty crumble dish on the counter. They were saving the last bit for Gloria when she got back from work.

“I’ll put away the leftovers,” Jacqueline volunteered.

“That leaves Severus and me to the dishes,” Bartholomew said dryly. “Funny how that worked out.”

“I know, right?” Jacqueline grinned, reaching into a cupboard above the counter for Tupperware.

Severus and Bartholomew placed their dirty dishes into the sink. Severus held back another sigh as he rolled up his sleeves, reached for the sponge, and ran the tap with hot water.

Bartholomew went back to the Dining room to gather the rest of the glasses. Alfred reached into another cupboard to retrieve enough mugs for everyone and grabbed the canister that held the tea bags. Severus began scrubbing away with the sponge, resigned to his task. He would let Bartholomew collect the rest of the dishes, Severus would soap them up, and the other man would rinse them off and stack them.

Jacqueline moved about the kitchen, retrieving empty butter and ice cream tubs to place the leftovers into.

“The children did really well cooking,” Alfred commented idly, dropping a tea bag into each mug.

“They probably helped,” Jacqueline said. “But I reckon Harry did the lion’s share of it. He seems pretty comfortable around the kitchen. His mother might be a conniving bitch, but she’s at least taught the boy some useful skills. He can cook and kick arse.”

Severus froze at the words before scrubbing the plate he was holding harder. He didn’t notice Jacqueline exchanging smirks with her brother.

“How’s your leg, by the way?” Jacqueline asked. “Do you need any painkillers? Should Gloria take a look at it when she gets in?”

Severus tried to discern whether his cousin was making fun before realising she was genuinely concerned.

“It’s fine,” he said curtly. “I took a painkiller earlier.”

“You should be proud of him,” Jacqueline continued, smiling at Severus. “He reacted very fast, and he was ready to run.”

“And he was defending my child,” Alfred added, reaching into another cupboard to pull out a couple of trays. “I might have four of them, but it doesn’t mean I could lose one and not feel it.”

“He did well,” Severus agreed stiffly, not looking at any of them, nodding at the plate in his hand.

“Make  sure you tell him that, won’t you, Severus?” Jacqueline implored, closing the refrigerator door. “The poor boy was traumatised by the whole thing. He looked like he was expecting you to kick him back.”

Severus didn’t see Alfred study him carefully at that comment.

“I was unaware of how easily startled he can be,” Severus murmured without looking at any of them. It was not a reaction Severus could fault him for, given that Black was still after the boy. In fact, that was probably why the boy was so jumpy.

“What are the plans for tomorrow, then?” Bartholomew asked.

“Well,” Jacqueline began, “since the children are more willing to help with the cooking, I may get them to help me in the kitchen-“

“Oh, please do,” Alfred begged.

Bartholomew snorted in laughter.  

“We’ll spend the morning cleaning up the house, the afternoon planning Christmas dinner and the evening having fun,” Jacqueline concluded.

“Are we sleeping over again?” Bartholomew asked, rinsing off the glasses Severus had run a sponge over.

“Don’t you always?” Alfred said dryly.

“It’s tradition,” Jacqueline nodded.

Severus sighed internally once more as he sponged the last of the glasses. This was the longest he’d spent with his family. He usually spent the night on Christmas Eve and left shortly after Christmas dinner.  He still had another week to go, and to be honest, he was quickly reaching his limit. He knew he only had himself to blame for this predicament. If he had kept his trap shut a decade ago about having a son, he would not have agreed to spend two weeks with his muggle family now, with Potter of all people.

It wasn’t as bad as Severus thought it would be if he was brutally honest. He spent more time with Nana Bea when he wasn’t holed up in the attic. At least he wouldn’t be expected to share his room with anyone. He held back a snort at the thought of Potter having to share the Den with the twins. Maya and Sarah would bunk in Bethany and Laurel’s room, while Jacqueline and Bartholomew would end up in Sarah’s room.

He already had the children’s cards ready, with the usual cash he included. The adult’s gifts were also wrapped. He just needed to add them to the pile they would soon begin underneath the Christmas tree. As he watched Alfred and Bartholomew carry the two trays of tea between them into the Sitting room, he counted down the days until he could go back to Hogwarts and put this all behind him.

ooOoo

Harry was on his hands and knees, wrapping up one of the presents he’d bought only that morning when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called after shoving the whole thing under his cot.

As expected, it was Snape.

Harry scrambled hastily to his feet, his heart hammering. He took a step back as Snape walked in. He knew Snape was closing the door for privacy and didn’t think the wizard would actually hit him (he hoped), but it didn’t quell the anxiety any.

“How's your leg?” Harry asked as Snape looked around the room before settling his gaze on him.

“Attached,” Snape answered dryly, crossing his arms across his chest.“Despite your attempts to kick it loose.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry offered. He swallowed hard. It never worked with Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia, though they liked hearing Harry say it. “I didn’t –”

He cut himself off as Snape raised his hand abruptly to silence him. He missed the strange look Snape gave him as Harry followed the hand without taking his eyes off it.

“Potter,” Snape began, “I came to tell you that –” he cleared his throat, “I am not angry at you for kicking me. In fact, I may have been cross if you hadn’t. Black is still at large, and your swift reaction showed you were not taking the situation lightly. And what’s more, you also protected Alexandra when you thought she was in danger. I may not be close to my family, Potter, but they are mine nonetheless. And so far, I am surprised and pleased at how well you’ve held up your end of the bargain. Even if you agreed to the whole thing to continue playing Quidditch next season.”

Harry, who had been feeling delighted at Snape’s words, was glad he hadn’t been smiling, as the smile would only have fallen swiftly from his face after the last words. On the one hand, he could understand why Snape thought what he did. On the other hand, it surprised Harry how much it hurt him that Snape actually thought that about him. Not because Harry had a high opinion of Snape or because he even wanted his professor’s good opinion.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, in lieu of something to say.

Snape gave him a nod and left. Harry didn’t relax for several minutes, staying where he was before kneeling down and retrieving the gift he was wrapping.

When Harry first stepped into Hogwarts, he wanted to prove that he wasn’t what the Dursleys thought he was. Growing up, he knew it wasn’t normal to have a cupboard for a bedroom. He knew it wasn’t right to be treated as he was by his own family. The trouble was, he had no one to turn to. No one he could trust. Truthfully, he had never even tried. Drawing attention to himself was always bad.

He didn’t really care about Snape’s opinion of him, though he didn’t like it. He wasn’t a freak like how the Dursleys thought. He wasn’t arrogant like his father, no matter what Snape thought. He never expected the rules to be bent for him, but he wasn’t above taking advantage of it when they were. Otherwise, he would never have joined the Quidditch team in the first place.

In the end, it didn’t matter what Snape thought, Harry told himself. He would do what he needed to survive, just like he planned with the Dursleys. Just four more years of school, and he would be shed of Snape and the Dursleys. Maybe he’d go travelling. Find a corner of the earth where no one had heard of him. Maybe he could be a Curse Breaker like Bill. Maybe he could have a family like Snape had, except he’d appreciate them more.

Snape might be a bastard, Harry thought to himself as he wrapped up Sarah’s puzzles, but his family was great. Snape should appreciate them more.

ooOoo

Christmas Eve

Harry was on his hands and knees as he scrubbed the kitchen floor. It was the exact scenario he had wanted to avoid at the Dursleys. Except here, Harry found he didn’t mind too much. For one, he wasn’t alone. At the Dursleys, his relatives would only have been around to berate him.

The difference between being a House Elf for the Snapes and a House Elf for the Dursleys, was that he had help at the Snapes. Despite much grumbling from the children, they reluctantly accepted the tasks Jacky had assigned them.

Harry and Andrew were cleaning and organising the kitchen. Well, mostly Harry was cleaning and organising, with Andrew helping every so often. After Harry had moved to sweep the floor, Andrew retreated to the kitchen table with a notebook and pen and scribbled the ideas for cooking the Christmas Dinner in the morning. Andrew had never actually helped in the kitchen before, always letting his mother do the cooking, even though they never enjoyed what she made and had no other choice. But seeing Harry, who was younger than the twins, actually comfortable around the kitchen had inspired the otherwise ambitionless boy.

Sarah was cleaning up the rest of the house. Brian and Snape were outside, spreading rock salt across the drive and various paths around the house as the forecast was for heavy snow. Jacky was actually at her own home, cleaning the house alone, insisting it was easier and quicker without having everyone underfoot. Gloria, who had worked in the days leading up to Christmas, was resting peacefully, ‘supervising’ from the other room, dividing her time between them all. Harry hadn’t spent as much time with Alfred’s wife as she had been working every day since he’d arrived, so he didn’t know what she was like. Alfred and Barry were out with Nana Bea, also the rest of the children who insisted on going along, doing some last-minute food shopping and avoiding being assigned more cleaning chores after being directed to clean their bedrooms.

Harry and Andrew had managed to clean and organise the cupboards and pantry in the last few hours. There was very little in there to organise, to be fair. Given they lived on a farm and grew most of their fresh ingredients, even if the children insisted Jacky wasn’t the greatest at utilising them, their stock had very little in the way of canned ingredients. And given the number of people between both households, what little they did have was used quite often.

Even during school terms, as the school for Primary and Secondary age children was in close proximity to each other, everyone tended to gather at Alfred’s house and often took their meals together. While Gloria was at work, Jacky was free to tend the house and look after Nana Bea during the daytime and Lexi, who wasn’t old enough to start Nursery school yet.

Having finished the kitchen, Harry put away the mop and bucket. He left Andrew at the kitchen table, muttering away over his notebook and entered the Sitting room.

“Do you need any help?” Harry offered to Sarah, carefully dusting one of the display cabinets with their family photos.

“Yes, please,” Sarah said gratefully, turning on the chair she was standing on to reach the top. “Would you mind doing the hoover for me? It’s the only thing left.”

Harry nodded and went to fetch the hoover from the storeroom just off the kitchen. After carefully brushing up the pine needles around the Christmas Tree, he hoovered not only the Sitting room but also the Dining room, the downstairs landing, the staircase itself and the upstairs landing. He had to then carry the bulky hoover back downstairs and shove it back into the storeroom. He wiped down the dining table and the small coffee table in the Sitting room.

“That’s it,” Sarah said with a pleased smile and a satisfied nod. “Andrew still in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered.

“Are you and Andrew all done as well, Harry?” Gloria asked, entering the Sitting room.

“Come on, Mum. Do your inspection,” Sarah rolled her eyes.

Gloria smiled at her daughter but gave the Sitting room a once over.

“There’s a little dust on the mantle, and you missed the mirror over there completely, and there’s a streak on the display cabinet from the dirty cloth you were using,” Gloria said critically.

Ignoring her daughter’s gasp of outrage, she continued, “At least you’ve done the hoover properly, and you got the stubborn stain off the coffee table.”

With a sigh, Sarah admitted, “Harry did those.”

“Well done, Harry,” Gloria praised. “Maybe you could teach my daughter a thing or two about cleaning up.”

“So unappreciative,” Sarah grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest though there was no heat in her words. “Let’s see how the kitchen is, then.”

Harry nervously followed them both to the kitchen.

“My goodness,” he heard Gloria gasp.

“Wow,” Sarah echoed.

“Is it okay?” Harry asked a trifle anxiously. “Did I miss something?”

Gloria didn’t answer straight away, too busy looking at the floor in what seemed like wonder.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Andrew asked with a touch of pride, looking up from his notebook.

“Did your dad replace the tiles on the floor while I’ve been working?” Gloria asked, bending forward to inspect the floor, looking close to falling on her knees for a closer look.  

“No. Don’t think so. Not unless he’s done it in the last few hours.” Sarah said with an incredulous laugh as she looked around in disbelief. She walked to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “The tile’s still cracked down here.”

“Gracious, lads. You’ve even cleaned the window sill and the windows,” Gloria commented, slowly spinning around the kitchen, taking it all in.

“We have worked really hard on this,” Andrew took the compliment with aplomb.

Both Gloria and Sarah gave the boy a look.

Deflated, Andrew admitted, “All right, so Harry scrubbed everything till it sparkled. But I helped with the cupboards and the fridge.”

“The fridge?”

“We cleaned the shelves and drawers inside the fridge as well,” Andrew told them proudly.

Gloria strode towards the integrated fridge and pulled the door open. Harry and Andrew had cleaned and organised everything in the refrigerator as well.

“It looks almost new,” Gloria said faintly. “You even got out that weird green stain.”

“Does it look okay?” Harry asked again, hesitantly.

“Okay?” Gloria repeated. “Sweetheart, this is brilliant.”

She closed the door and whirled around, giving them a manic look.

“Out,” she said suddenly. “Come on, out. No one’s allowed in here right now. Let’s not mess this up again.”

Andrew gave his aunt a dubious and exchanged a look of amusement with his cousin.

“I don’t think we’re getting Christmas dinner this year,” Sarah said with amusement as she led the way back to the Sitting room.

Andrew snorted in agreement, looking over his notebook.

“Yeah, Aunt Glory won’t want to mess up that kitchen,” he laughed.

“Can I add my presents under the tree?” Harry asked. He’d finished wrapping them all up last night.

Both Sarah and Andrew looked at him in surprise and then at the space under the tree.

“Sure,” she shrugged, looking back. “I can bring mine down now.”

“Either of you need help?” Andrew offered. “Mum brings all ours together.”

“It’s all right,” Harry said.

“You can help me,” Sarah said instead. “I’ll ask Mum if she wants to start bringing hers down as well.”

Harry’s gifts were in his school bag, so he needed to grab the bag and add the presents under the tree without them seeing his Mary-Poppins-style bag. They’d decorated the tree together the second night he’d arrived and even let him add some fairy lights and baubles. Alfred had lifted Lexi above his head to let her add the angel at the top.

Sarah had to physically drag her mother away from the kitchen, looking exasperated as Gloria called out, “No one goes in the kitchen.”

Harry quickly fetched his bag and emptied his gifts once they were all out of sight. They were away long enough that he placed them all carefully under the tree, a little to the side to give the others space to add theirs as well.

He came back out of the Den after hiding his empty school bag once more. Just in time as the other three came down laden with many gift-wrapped items. Harry hurried over to help Gloria, taking the top few gifts that looked like they might topple over. Sarah and Gloria had to go up once more to fetch more before they were done. By the way they positioned the presents under the tree, he could tell they were expecting more. Probably the ones from Jacky’s house.

“I’m back, children!” Harry heard Jacky call from the front door.

“So are we!” Alfred called.  

“That was well-timed,” Gloria commented. “Harry, you come with me. Sarah, Andrew, help them bring the shopping in. No one goes into the kitchen.”

Rolling their eyes, the other two moved off to help their parents.  

ooOoo

“Who’s making tea?” Alfred asked as he fiddled with the log fire. The heating had already been on low, so the house had been warm and toasty. However, after the chill from outside, Alfred wasted no time cranking it up higher while lighting the fireplace simultaneously.

The younger girls all fought over sitting on the floor closest to the fire.

“Good luck convincing Mum to let anyone use the kitchen,” Sarah scoffed from the floor as she helped Jacky stack everyone else’s parents neatly.

“Why?” Alfred asked, turning to his daughter.

They were interrupted by Severus and Brian, who came stomping in noisily. Severus’ usually pale complexion was slightly pink from the biting wind and cold outside. Alfred didn’t miss the way Severus made for the fireplace, leaning gratefully over the mantle for warmth. Alfred and Barry always kept the shed stocked with rock salt over winter to keep their footpaths and drives as snow-free as possible. With the heavy snow forecast for tonight, it was vitally important that they kept the roads and drives clear. Though he and Barry closed their Veterinary practice for the week over Christmas, they still responded to emergency callouts for the surrounding farmers. Severus and Brian had to do a thorough job and spent all morning outside, most likely.

“Step away from the presents,” Alfred absently warned his youngest girls as they eagerly eyed the gifts displayed.

Alfred would have to sneak away to wrap a few last-minute presents, but at least Gloria had brought down the ones from their bedroom.

“I could murder for a tea,” Brian said, planting himself in front of the fireplace, with his back towards the fire, dancing from foot to foot with his hands behind his back. He sighed as he slowly began to warm up.

“You’ll have to murder Mum first, or she’ll kill you for stepping foot in her precious kitchen,” Sarah snorted.

“What? Why?”

Everyone looked at Sarah in askance.

“Go and see for yourself,” Sarah said mischievously. “If you dare.”

They all looked at each other in confusion. Severus and Brian looked reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire but gamely followed Alfred and Jacky (who Barry hauled to her feet) towards the kitchen.

Nana Bea was in her wheelchair, blocking the door to the kitchen, having wedged it wide open but not quite crossing the threshold.

“Nana, why aren’t you going in?” Brian asked, reaching for the wheelchair handles to presumably push the chair in.

“I’ve been forbidden by your aunt,” Nana Bea said laughingly. “The wheels on my chair are too dirty for her kitchen, apparently. I daresay I quite agree.”

Exchanging looks of confusion and curiosity with each other (though Sarah was still grinning like a madwoman), they fought to lean over Nana Bea and her wheelchair to peer into the kitchen.

“Is that our kitchen?” Jacky asked in amazement.

“It’s in our house,” Alfred answered in astonishment.

He could see why Sarah thought Gloria wouldn’t allow them to enter the kitchen.

Gloria, Andrew and Harry were putting away the last of the shopping with more care than they ever had.

“I want to see,” Bethany demanded from the back of the group.

“No one comes in,” Gloria barked, seeing them crowding and jostling around the door to gander into the kitchen.

“Are you making us some tea, then?” Jacky asked hopefully.

“And hot chocolate?” Maya piped up from the back.

“We’ll bring it all out to you,” Gloria told them. “No one else steps foot in here.”

Barry and Andrew turned away after one last look around the gleaming kitchen. Severus and the other children took another peak and followed. Alfred noticed Severus’ eyes stray to Harry and didn’t miss the flash of anger before his cousin’s eyes smoothed back into the impassive look the other man usually sported.

Alfred felt his own brows furrow in concern and confusion. Why would Severus be angry with Harry?

He’d watched both father and son since they stepped foot in Alfred’s home. Harry was polite, well-mannered and hard-working. The complete opposite of how Severus had described him on their first night.

Severus was wholly taciturn about his personal life. Despite having known his cousin since Severus’ parents passed away at sixteen, Alfred could safely say Severus was a mystery. Severus rarely spoke to the rest of the family, his entire time dedicated to Nana Bea when he was around.

Apart from a few hours over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Severus might only come for a handful of hours over the summer holidays. Nana Bea was the most important to him, as he rarely bothered to speak to anyone else; even then, it was with great reluctance.

When Severus confessed to having a broken relationship and an even more broken one with his son, they were all surprised. Even that confession had to be dragged from him. It was apparent to see that Severus and Harry weren't very close at all. Their relationship could only be described as cooly polite and strained to anyone watching. Yet, from what Alfred had observed, they were close in that they seemed to share a secret. Severus sniped at Harry, but it was not the same good-natured banter he shared with his children. However, that father and son duo didn’t have the same camaraderie that Alfred and Gloria had with their own children or what Jacky and Barry shared with theirs

When Severus had accepted the invitation to stay for the entire Christmas holidays and confirmed he would be bringing his son along with him, they were shocked Severus had finally agreed, or rather that he had managed to persuade his bitch of an ex. Severus didn’t speak of the mysterious Claudia any more than he spoke of Harry. He was very tight-lipped about his former girlfriend and son, even with Nana Bea, whom he cared about more than anyone else.

To be frank, Nana and the elders almost convinced themselves Severus might have been lying about having a son. Something they hadn’t shared with the children. To the children, Severus’s son was an unknown cousin. To everyone’s delight, Harry was easy to get along with.

With eager trepidation, they all looked forward to seeing Harry Snape for the first time. It was not until Harry arrived that they realised they hadn’t even known the boy’s name, despite being aware of his existence for nearly ten years. Whatever happened between Severus and Claudia was so bad that she hadn’t let Severus anywhere near his son for many years. Severus still had an ongoing custody battle. In fact, the way Severus had told it, each concession from Claudia regarding Harry was hard-won.

From what little Alfred had been told about Claudia, he had expected Harry to be like her in that she was bitter, cold and cruel. As much as he and the others were looking forward to meeting with Harry for the first time, they were still cautious about whether he would really fit in with the family.

To everyone’s surprise, Harry fit in quite nicely. Better than Severus, even. Apart from the black hair and skinny frame (bordering on scrawny), Harry shared nothing in common with the rest of the Snape family. Nothing about his facial structure, lanky build, or pale skin showed he was a Snape. Harry’s beautiful emerald green eyes, definitely not found from the Snape side of the family, must come from his mother’s side. However, it took Alfred a matter of days to realise why the look in them was so familiar. It was a look he’d recognised in Severus’ eyes after he’d come to live with Nana Bea after Tobias passed away. It was a look that Alfred and Jacky saw in the mirrors growing up.

He knew Jacky had picked up the same thing he did. So had Nana Bea. They were worried about Harry. Warm, wonderful little Harry, who was so helpful and grateful and fitted in so well with the whole brood. It sickened Alfred to think that Harry had suffered the same way Alfred and Jacky had at the hands of their father or the way Severus had at the hands of his own. They had scars to show for it, though Alfred hoped Harry’s scars weren’t physical like the elder Snapes.

At first, Alfred had suspected Harry might have been suffering under his mother and stepfather and desperately hoped that Severus would soon get full custody of his son. Though now, having seen that flash of anger in Severus’ eyes, maybe Claudia had reason to keep Severus and his son apart from each other. Alfred hadn’t missed the flinches when Severus was close to Harry. He didn’t miss the way Harry waited until everyone served themselves before he served himself. Didn’t miss the surprise and gratitude when he was included in the activities. Didn’t miss the way Harry jumped to be helpful. Didn’t miss the way the boy’s eyes tightened at the subtle digs at his so-called lazy nature that Severus liked to aim in Harry’s direction.

Looking around the impressively gleaming kitchen, he knew Harry had probably done the bulk of the work. Whatever Severus thought about Harry, it was wrong. He had grown quite fond of the boy in a short time. All his family had. And if he had to fight Severus for the boy, then he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

ooOoo

While the others were downstairs, Severus calmly went about his ritual of casting Silencing Charms around the children’s bedrooms. Alexandra had fallen asleep into her hot chocolate, and the others had valiantly tried to stay up late before finally being chivvied to bed.

They’d left out mince pies and a glass of milk for Father Christmas and carrots for his reindeer. The adults gathered the remaining presents for the children from ‘Father Christmas’. He knew from experience that the children were more sensitive on Christmas Eve, eager to get up at the slightest noise to catch the red-costumed gift-giver in the act, so he helped by using magic to ensure the adults were undisturbed as they stayed up later to polish off the mince pies and spiked milk.

Andrew and Brian had been given sleeping bags and joined Potter in the den. Sarah joined her sisters in their rooms, giving up her bedroom for Jacqueline and Bartholomew.

Nana Bea was in her bedroom, converted several years ago, when she’d begun to have trouble with the stairs. A new bathroom had been converted from an old store room, specially adapted for the disabled, next to Nana’s bedroom. Potter shared this bath with Nana Bea, and Severus hoped the brat wasn’t making a mess in there.

Potter was in a world of trouble for using his wand to clean the house; otherwise, how else would he have got everything gleaming as he had? He’d done the same thing in Severus’s house in Liverpool, and to use magic in a house full of muggles because he was too lazy to do it the muggle way and got special dispensation from the Ministry was beyond the pale. The dispensation was for emergencies only, not for menial labour.

He’d be having words with that boy.

He reluctantly joined the others back in the Sitting room, taking the seat closest to Nana, who reached out a withered hand for his in a pleasantly firm grip. She gave him a smile.

“It’s so good to have the whole family together,” she said, not letting go of his hand. “Your Harry’s such a good lad. Nothing like what you’d led us to believe.”

“Was your ex having you on about Harry being a problem child?” Alfred questioned, reaching for a mince pie.

With his free hand, Severus took one of the carrots from the plate Bartholomew offered around.

When Severus didn’t answer, Jacqueline speculated, “She must have been trying to put you off to keep custody for himself. There’s not a bad bone in that boy’s body.”

He chomped grumpily into his carrot to avoid answering. How in the hell did Potter manage to charm his muggle family? There’s no justice in the world.

“Would your ex be willing to bring Harry over the summer holidays?” Alfred asked, taking the last carrot for himself.

“Not all of them, of course. Surely, he’ll be allowed to come over for a week or two,” Jacqueline tacked on hurriedly. “He’s welcome back at Christmas any time. He fits right in.”

Severus froze, wondering how to avoid the request. He’d spent so much time emphasising Potter to be on his best behaviour that the boy had done too good a job. Too late, he realised he should have allowed him to be his usual unruly self. If he’d done that, then Potter’s characteristic horrible behaviour would have deterred his family from inviting the boy over again. Never again would he have been harrassed by Nana and his cousins to meet his son. Such a missed opportunity. Now he needed to do damage control and see if he could get Potter to adjust his behaviour to be ruder.

He missed the looks Nana Bea exchanged with the others, too busy avoiding the other’s eyes.

“Everything all right, Severus?” Gloria prodded with apparent concern.

“I’m fine,” he answered abruptly.

“How’s your leg?” she asked. “Alfred told me –”

“It’s fine,” Severus replied even more abruptly. “I’ve already taken painkillers.” 

“Well, your limp’s almost gone,” she said, reaching for a mince pie.

“Oh,” Alfred said in realisation, “I made you go out in the cold to salt the drive. Severus, I’m sorry that was thoughtless of me.”

“Don’t worry,” Severus told him. “Moving about helped, and I warmed up around the fire easily enough.”

“Is it bruised?” Bartholomew asked, offering him a brandy glass, which Severus took gratefully.

“A little,” he admitted.

“With how hard Harry kicked, I’m surprised it didn’t snap. Pity the boy doesn’t play football,” Jacqueline snorted. “You should have seen his face when he realised it was. He looked so worried.”

Severus didn’t want to revisit this topic yet again.

“I’ve already spoken to him,” he told them, hoping to get off the topic once and for all. “He knows I’m not angry with him.”

“That’s good,” Nana Bea added gently. “The poor boy wouldn’t come out of his room. The children had to coax him out. It was their idea to kick Jacky out of the kitchen; they hoped to distract him from his thoughts.”

“I’m sure they had no ulterior motive at all,” Jacqueline added dryly, picking crumbs from the pastry from her swollen belly and popping them into her mouth.

“At least his mother taught him some skills,” Gloria commented, tucking into another mince pie. “He can cook, and he can clean.”

Severus suppressed a snort. The cooking skills might be impressive, but the cleaning skills were pure magic.

“And watching Harry in the kitchen has inspired Andrew to learn to cook,” Jacqueline praised.

Severus desperately wished they would stop waxing lyrical about Potter’s non-existent skills. It was all acting – it must be.

“As long as he’s not inherited your cooking skills,” Alfred quipped, then laughed as he dodged the crumpled foil the mince pie came in at him.

“Bad cooking must definitely be a Snape thing,” Bartholomew commented, exchanging commiserating looks with Gloria.

“Like you can talk, Mr Burnt Toast,” the pregnant woman scoffed, taking a sip of her milk.

“Gloria’s the only one of us skilled enough in the kitchen,” Alfred bragged.

“I hate cooking,” Gloria confessed. “Ten-minute cooking is my limit. Keep it simple. That’s my rule.”

“She’d rather clean up puke,” Alfred muttered into his brandy glass, which Gloria didn’t dispute.

Looking at Severus plaintively, Jacqueline asked, “Think Harry would mind helping out with Christmas Dinner tomorrow?”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Severus volunteered the boy. Christmas Dinner would be significantly more challenging than sticking things in the oven, grossly underestimating the boy’s effort. At the very least, Potter seemed efficient with a knife. Considering his successes so far, perhaps the brat’s luck would hold, and they might have something edible tomorrow.

Later today, he amended, as he looked at the time.

Thankfully, they moved on from talking about Potter. Though he still had to listen to conversations about the pets they were treated in their clinic, Gloria’s annoying co-workers and whatever clever or dumb thing their children did. Severus never added to these conversations, tolerating them all for the sake of Nana.

None of them talked about Nana’s ails or treatments, and any time Severus tried to press the issue over the last few days, he’d been rebuffed or distracted. Nana was the same. Over the last few years, despite her age, she’d been robust and somewhat active. Seeing her pushed around in a wheelchair tore at his heart. He had nothing in common with the rest of the cousins. If there was no Nana, there’d be no reason for him to come here.

A part of Severus liked having somewhere to go for Christmas. It felt less lonely than being at the school. He knew the Malfoys would invite him, as they had done in the past, but despite being close friends, they weren’t family.

He can’t imagine his cousins tolerating him any more than they had to if it weren’t for Nana Bea.

Thankfully, they retire to bed soon after. Gloria insisted on wheeling Nana to her room and helping her settle in, even though Severus offered to do so.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Severus,” Gloria waved him off. “There’s a trick to help the invalid into their beds. We’ll be fine.”

Severus reluctantly headed off to the attic to get changed and into bed, drifting off worried about Nana and how to communicate to Potter that he needed to dial down his act and become his obnoxious self again instead of the solicitous, well-behaved child he had everyone fooled into believing.

ooOoo

Christmas Day

He drifted awake naturally, though it was still dark outside. Gentle snores reminded him he wasn’t alone. He hoped to get some more sleep, but a pressing need to use to loo made itself known. Harry managed to ignore it for maybe twenty minutes before deciding he really needed to go. Grudgingly, he dragged himself out of bed, padding barefoot to the bathroom he shared with Nana Bea. Only to bump into the person in question.

“Sorry, Nana,” he said automatically, reaching out to steady her.

He froze as he realised that she wasn’t using her wheelchair. Snape’s grandmother gave him a sheepish look, like a thief caught in the act.

“Oh, lad,” Nana sighed, seemingly deciding she wouldn’t pretend to be an invalid any longer. “Looks like we’re going to have a frank chat.”

Harry nodded dumbly.

Chapter 6 – A Hard Act to Follow

Harry nodded dumbly.

“Go use the bathroom and meet me in my room,” she ordered.

Harry obeyed on autopilot. Nana headed to her bedroom while Harry quickly used the facilities. By the time he gently knocked on Nana’s door, the old bird had already settled herself beneath the covers.

“Sit down, Harry,” she said, gesturing him towards a convenient armchair that looked as old as the woman herself. “Use the blanket if you feel cold.”

Harry silently made himself comfortable in the vintage armchair and gratefully draped the considerably newer blanket around himself. They sat in silence for several minutes, each gathering their thoughts and Harry waited patiently for the explanation to come. The silence dragged on so long that Harry almost thought to break it himself. He might have done, if he hadn’t seen the calculating look on Nana Bea’s face.

Finally, looking at Harry directly, Nana said, “Let’s make a deal, you and I, Harry.”

Immediately Harry sat up, alert. This didn’t sound good. Making deals was how he ended up agreeing to accompany Snape in the first place.

“I’m sure you’ve got questions, and I’ll answer them honestly, as long as you answer my questions honestly. If there’s a question one of us doesn’t want to answer, then we’ll stay silent. We won’t tell each other lies. Deal?”

Harry nodded cautiously at her expectant look.

Nana gave her own look of satisfaction.

“You go first, son,” she prompted when he said nothing further.

Harry thought hard about how to phrase his first question. He didn’t want it to be a closed question with a simple yes or no answer. As much as he hated to admit it, he learned something valuable about how Vernon dealt with his clients. The man was a shark when it came to sniffing out information to make a good deal. And given his promotions and subsequent splurges on the latest cars or holidays, he was also good at it.

Having said that, Harry always took the brunt of the man’s failings, of which Vernon had his fair share.

“Why are you pretending to be in a wheelchair when you seem able to walk fine without it?” Harry asked. It was best to start simple.

 “For my grandchildren’s and Severus’s benefit,” the wily old woman says, neatly dodging his question. But then, seeming to understand what he was thinking, she continued, “I’m not prevaricating. I will explain in more detail, but I did it for all of them.”

Harry looked at her in confusion and hoped he’d get a better explanation.

“Now, remember, Harry, no lies,” she reminded him with a smug smile on her craggy face.

Harry was immediately wary, wondering what she could possibly ask.

“Why are you pretending to be Severus’s son?” There was a look of triumph on her face as she looked at him expectantly.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. It was the last thing he expected her to ask. He thought furiously; how had he given himself away? He thought he’d done well in presenting himself as Snape’s son, albeit one without a good father-and-son relationship.

No one who saw Snape interact with students, with his own nephews and nieces, would expect Snape have a good relationship with his son. Especially one who came from a broken relationship.

At his continued silence, Nana’s triumph melted away to be replaced with a pleased look.

“I’m glad you didn’t lie,” she said gently, reminding them of their deal. “However, your silence is an answer in itself. Go ahead. Ask your question?”

“What gave me away?”

Nana smiled mischievously at him.

“Oh, it was nothing you did, lad,” she assured him. “You’ve fitted well with the rest of the family. Too well, in fact.”

Harry felt like the dumb look on his face would be a permanent etching at this rate.

“I’m going to tell you a story,” Nana said calmly. “I’ll try to keep it short, but bear with me, child, if I begin to ramble.”

Harry nodded silently, curious about what the revelation would be.

“I had three children,” she began sadly. “Zachary was the eldest. He was Alfred and Jacky’s father. Teresa, she was my middle child. Clement kicked her out when she was fifteen. She liked girls, and he didn’t tolerate that. It didn’t matter to me, but I couldn’t get my husband to change his mind. Tobias, Severus’s father, he was the youngest. Ran off with Eileen at nineteen. All my children are dead now.”

She said this with little emotion, already having come to terms with their deaths.

“Clement wasn’t the best of fathers or even a good husband. He was intolerant and abusive, and he passed those traits onto his sons, who followed in his footstep and hurt their own children. Before she was forced out, Theresa didn’t suffer any less for being a girl. She died on the streets. I never saw her until I identified her body. She was only sixteen.

“Alfred and Jacky suffered harshly under Zachary,” she confessed. “Tobias wasn’t any better. Severus was sixteen when Tobias died. Eileen’s family didn’t want to acknowledge his existence and refused to meet with him. I was the only one willing to take him in. He was an angry teen, a tough little nut to crack. But I don’t regret it for a second.”

Harry continued to listen to the tale of her family history. He already knew more about Snape’s family than the man wanted, and here, he was learning even more – stuff he was sure Snape wouldn’t appreciate him knowing. Yet, he couldn’t stop listening to this insight into what made Snape the greasy git he was today. The fact that Snape was abused by his father didn’t excuse the man’s bullying behaviour.

Alfred and Jacky seemed to have become friendly people, but Snape was horrible. Harry never did anything to Snape, but just like his aunt and uncle, he seemed to take the brunt of his anger out on Harry. The only difference was that Snape didn’t beat Harry like his relatives did, which made him glad Snape wasn’t his real father.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Nana continued with her story.

“Severus was reticent, to begin with. He didn’t trust me straight away. I didn’t push,” Nana told him. “I just made sure he was looked after and that he knew I wouldn’t hurt him. He spent most of his time locked up in his room. He liked studying, at least. He valued his education, and I encouraged him where I could, even if he didn’t share anything from his school with me.”

She was referring to Hogwarts and magic, Harry thought to himself.

She paused to ask, “You go to the same school Severus went to?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed.

“You’re a wizard, too,” she said with relish.

Harry was aware his jaw was on the floor. He snapped his mouth shut rapidly. What the hell was going on?

“What do you know?” he asked.

“I didn’t know for the longest time,” she admitted. “Severus graduated from school, went on to do his Mastery, got himself a job, and I had no clue he was magical. The owls outside his bedroom, the bizarre school books I never saw again, the stick – his wand- he liked to wave around when he thought he was alone – I rationalised them all away somehow. Then one day, I get a visit from his former Headmaster Albus-”

“Dumbledore,” Harry blurted out. “You know Dumbledore?”

“The oddest man appeared on my doorstep one day, entirely out of the blue. He wore the brightest dress and had the longest beard,” she smiled in memory.

Harry nodded. Yep, that sounded like Dumbledore.

“He told me Severus was a wizard and was going through something deeply personal. Severus should have told me about being a wizard. Legally, I was allowed to know as I was Severus’s guardian. After what he went through with Tobias, I imagine he was too wary to trust me.”

“Didn’t that hurt you?” Harry questioned.

“It did. I suppose I’m still waiting for him to trust me with this secret.”

“So, S – he thinks you don’t know, but you do?” Harry clarified.

Nana nodded placidly.

“Why didn’t you tell him you know?” he asked, confused.

“Secrets should be freely given. It took him an age to tell me what he went through with Tobias. Trusting someone with something so huge wasn’t easy, so I contented myself with that. Besides, Severus isn’t as good a liar as he thinks. You should have heard some of the excuses he came up with when the owls came into the house. I found what I later realised was his potions kit; he tried to convince me it was his experimental chemistry kit. When I asked what he learned in chemistry that he needed bat wings for, he said it was a dissection. Now, I might not be the most educated of women, but dissection comes under biology, not chemistry. Daft boy,” she said, shaking her head in fond exasperation.

Harry smiled with her.

“I believe that’s why he spends as little time here as he does,” she added sadly. “I don’t think he likes lying, so he writes every so often and visits for Christmas every year. If we can manage to persuade him to visit during the summer, he’ll spend a day here or there.”

Harry didn’t think Snape didn’t visit because he couldn’t lie to his family. He didn’t visit because he was a selfish git who didn’t appreciate them. He’d been observing them quite a lot himself. The kids didn’t seem keen on him and knew very little of him. The adults tried to involve him in conversation, but he practically ignored them and answered as little as possible. Nana was the only one he was free with. But she was getting on in years. If Snape didn’t keep the others sweet, he’d never get invited back if Nana passed away.

Snape had dug himself this hole. Harry came here to avoid the Dursleys, and yes, he could admit it wasn’t altruism on his part, but he still counted it as a good deed. Snape lied to his family about having an ex-wife, girlfriend, or whatever, and about having a son for years. He made excuse after excuse for years as to why he couldn’t bring his fictitious son to visit, which his family took at face value. On some level, they must all feel unwanted by Snape. The children certainly felt like Snape didn’t care about them. His token gift of fifty quid for Christmas and birthday lacked effort on his part, and from what the others told him, he never put much of that into the presents for anyone other than Nana either.

“Is that why you didn’t believe he had a son?” Harry asked. “The bad at lying part?”

Nana chuckled again, “Oh yes. Severus came up with the most ludicrous excuses for not bringing you to meet us.”

She held up her fingers and began to list off the excuses, “You’ve had pneumonia twice because of your mother’s carelessness. Chickenpox three times. You broke your arm playing football. Your mother hated letting you out of her sight and was a spiteful witch. You seemed to suffer one catastrophe after another.”

Harry huffed lightly; the catastrophe bit was right. He’d had his broken bones and share of illnesses over the years with the Dursleys and at Hogwarts.

“We had a good old laugh about Severus’s excuses. In fact, we were convinced years ago that Severus was lying to us.”

“Why did you keep insisting he bring his son if you suspected he was lying?”

“We wanted to know how long he would keep stalling us,” Nana told him. “Alfred and Jacky were getting annoyed, however. I send Severus Christmas and birthday presents for his son every year, nothing expensive,” she said at Harry’s questioning look, “but enough to make him feel guilty.”

Harry smiled at her wicked look.

Continuing her earlier point, she said, “I slipped in the garden a few months ago. It was nothing serious, though everyone made a hoo-ha about it. I was able to walk fine enough, as you saw earlier and don’t need to be in the chair full time. But the doctors said I should use a wheelchair. I’m getting to that age now where my legs aren’t as strong as they used to be. I suppose I’ve been trying tell myself I’m still young.

Anyhow, Jacky decided to use the opportunity to tell Severus it was serious but didn’t go into details. Guilted him into bringing his son as it might be my chance to meet Severus’s boy.”

The wicked look didn’t go away.

“Alfred was ever so shocked when he saw Severus had, in fact, brought a boy with him. We all were. I told you we were convinced you didn’t even exist. We kept watching you both, waiting for you to slip up. You played your part well.”

Harry felt pleased. It wasn’t him who gave the whole thing away.

“Severus made us believe you were a troublemaker, and you showed us Severus didn’t know you well, at all. You were much more convincing than Severus. Good heavens, every time you behaved well, Severus couldn’t keep that grumpy look off his face.”

Nana demonstrated exactly what grumpy look she meant – it looked the Snape sported when he didn’t get his way. Like he was sucking on a lemon. Petunia got the same look when she had to include Harry in family stuff in front of her neighbours. The Snapes, at least, were more astute than the Dursley’s neighbours, who didn’t seem to notice Petunia’s look resembled someone with trapped wind.

“The little ones love you, and the adults wished they could keep you forever.”

“That’s only because they don’t want to put up with Jacky’s cooking,” Harry quipped. He ignored the pleasant feeling of being wanted. Wanting was a terrible hope.

Nana laughed, “Oh, they definitely appreciated your food. But they love how you’ve set a good example for their children.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry said uncomfortably.

“You’ve done more than you think,” she said gently. “And I don’t mean the cooking and cleaning. I mean the way you clearly care.”

Harry felt a blush but repeated quietly, “I didn’t do anything.”

Nana shook her head but didn’t press the point. “Now, I believe it’s your turn. What made you agree to this anyway? Didn’t your parents want you home for Christmas?”

Harry was prepared for this question. He didn’t want to say anything about the Dursleys, so he stuck to the truth as much as possible, though he wouldn’t lie.

“My parents died when I was one. I have my relatives, my mum’s sister and her husband, but they didn’t want me. I usually stay at school for the holidays. There were some safety issues at the school, and the Ministry wanted the castle empty to fix the wards, so everyone was told to go home for Christmas. I felt miserable because I had nowhere to go, so I snuck out for a lark. Sn- the Professor caught me and threatened to give me detention for the following term and ban me from the school sports team until next year. So Dumbledore gave me a choice. Detention and ban, or help a professor out.”

Nana gave him a rueful look, “You’re a much smoother liar than Severus.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry protested indignantly.

“You didn’t tell the whole truth,” she corrected gently. “Still, I won’t force you to tell me your private business.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry said insistently.

“I know,” Nana acknowledged calmly. “And if you want to talk to me about whatever you’re holding back, you can speak to me any time, child.”

Harry nodded, though he had no intention to do so.

“I’m not a troublemaker either. Snape just thinks I am,” Harry told her quietly.

“I know, son,” she said, giving him a gentle look. “You’re a good boy.”

“Are you going to tell the others?” he asked after a silent moment. At her questioning look, he clarifies, “About me not being his son?”

“Are you going to tell Severus and the children that I don’t really need a wheelchair to get around?” she shot back at him with an arched brow.

“You mean the others don’t really know about the wheelchair thing?”

“The adults know. Gloria’s the one who borrowed the wheelchair for me,” she told him, the wicked look back in her eye. “The children were shocked, and we felt it was unfair to ask them to play along. Of course, it’s also unfair of them to believe I’m in a wheelchair in the first place; however, like Severus, the children aren’t very good at keeping secrets.”

“What about me not being…”

“Severus’s son?” she finished when he trailed off. “No, that can be our little secret, Harry.”

“They have their suspicions, but if they want to know the truth, they’ll have to bump into you themselves and sort out their own deals,” she winked at him.

“Yeah, I might wake up tomorrow morning and discover that Jacky isn’t pregnant or Alfred doesn’t have a Vet practice,” Harry snorted in laughter.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it that both those things are true,” Nana laughed with him.

Harry gave the wheelchair at the foot of her bed a significant look.

Nana huffed in more laughter.

“You’re a good lad, Harry. You’re welcome here anytime,” she told him.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, though he doubted very much he’d be back. Snape hadn’t thought this through. As much as Harry would like to come back every year, he didn’t think Snape would bring him back to meet his family again. Snape would have been better off admitting the truth and taking his lumps. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to his family.

Then a thought occurred to him.

“Why did he tell you he had a son anyway?” What had started the whole thing?

“Jacky and Alfred were angry at the world, even after their father passed away. Alfred found Gloria, and Jacky found Barry. The change in them was profound. I wanted the same thing for Severus. I wanted him to be happy and settled, thinking it would change him too. When he told me about Claudia, I believed him at first, and it broke my heart to think his first love ended so horribly that he’d never trust anyone again. When I realised Claudia wasn’t real, I was relieved. I simply accepted he wasn’t ready for that type of love yet and hoped one day he would find someone who would change the way he looked at the world.”

Privately, Harry believed anyone who put up with Snape would be as bitter as he was.

Thankfully they moved on to other topics. He realised this was the most extended conversation he had had with Nana, as usually Snape kept Harry away from her completely or monopolised her time for himself.

Nana was telling him how they came into the farm when they were startled by a knock from a suspicious Snape.

“What’s going on here?” the Potions Master asked stiffly. “Harry, are you disturbing Nana?”

“Oh, Harry wasn’t disturbing me,” Nana assured her grandson. “Harry came to use the bathroom, my goodness, is that the time? And he helped me back into bed and kept me company like a little darling.”

“Why didn’t you call for someone else to help, Harry?” Snape’s suspicious look didn’t abate.

“I asked him not to disturb anyone,” Nana said sharply, startling fake father and son. She hadn’t spoken to Snape like that the whole time he was here. “I was up in the middle of the night, and Harry happened to be up to use the loo as well. I needed help, and he helped me. What ever is your issue? He’s a polite and helpful child. Would you have rather he ignored me and carried himself off to bed?”

“I would rather he call for someone more qualified to assist you? What if he accidentally dropped you?”

Though from the look on Snape’s face, he genuinely believed that Harry would drop Nana out of carelessness rather than clumsiness.

“Whatever her faults, Claudia’s raised a good boy,” Nana Bea said assuredly.

“What’s going on here? Is everything okay?” Gloria came down in her pyjamas, tightening her belt on her bedrobe.

“All is well, Gloria,” Nana sighed. “Now, if the boys can vacate the room, Gloria can help me into my chair since you seem to insist someone more qualified assist me.”

Snape flushed. “I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of,” he mumbled in a completely un-Snape-like manner.

“Harry took great care,” Nana said firmly. “And now Gloria will. Off you trot, both of you. I’m sure everyone will be up to open up their presents soon. Gloria, if you’ll help me into my chair, I’ll help you in the kitchen. If you’ll let me in, that is.”

Gloria, who’d been watching the proceedings with a confused look, stepped forward and gave the wheelchair a rueful glance.

“Harry’s worked too hard scrubbing that kitchen floor to take that wheelchair in there,” Gloria laughed. “Why don’t you relax this year, Nana? Sit near the fire with Severus and watch over the children. I hear the others stirring. Harry, why don’t you go use the bathroom before they do. With so many people in the house, it’ll be ages before anyone gets out.”

Harry nodded.

“Merry Christmas,” he wished them and left.

He heard the soft ‘Merry Christmas’ in return as he slipped past Snape and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He quickly used the bathroom again, brushed his teeth, and returned to the den to check on Andrew and Brian. The boys were stirring, blearily rubbing their eyes.

“Merry Christmas,” Brian said through a yawn, which was echoed half a second later with his twin.

He returned the greeting, picked out last year’s Weasley jumper from his trunk to throw over his pyjamas, and padded out to the kitchen as the boys headed to fight for the bathroom.

“Can I help?” he asked Jacky, who was already in the kitchen reaching for glasses from the cupboard.

“Oh, Harry,” Jacky said, spinning around, dropping the glass in startlement. It crashed first on the counter before slipping off and hitting the ground, where it smashed into pieces.

“Sorry,” Harry winced. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“It wasn’t you, Harry,” Jacky assured him. “Be careful, Harry. Let me go get the dustpan.”

“Let me help. I’ll pick up the big pieces.”

“Don’t cut yourself,” she said as she disappeared towards the store room.

“I won’t,” Harry assured her as he gingerly crouched and picked up the pieces of the broken glass. Then, he ripped off a piece of kitchen roll, ran it lightly under the tap to wet and carefully wiped the floor with it. The wet paper towel would pick up the smaller stray shards of glass. He wiped the damp floor with a dry piece of kitchen roll. He carefully threw both away into the bin, confident he’d got all the broken glass. Still, when Jacky brought the dustpan and broom, he swept the whole floor thoroughly while she continued to reach for the rest of the glasses.

“Can you grab the orange juice for me, Harry, love?” Jacky asked as he returned the dustpan and broom to where they came from.

She reached down in the lower cupboards for some trays.

“You’re a good lad, Harry,” Jacky complimented with a smile as she poured orange juice into everyone’s glasses. “The other children will go straight for the tree if they haven’t already. But you’re in here helping me.”

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable at the observation. Only at Hogwarts did he get to rest during Christmas. He would have been in the kitchen with his aunt and uncle anyway. And the Snape family was so appreciative that he didn’t even resent having to cook. At least here, everyone pitched in.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled as he placed the half-filled glasses onto the tray.

Alfred and Andrew popped their heads through the kitchen.

“You need any help carrying the trays?” Andrew asked.

“I won’t say no to that,” Jacky said playfully.

“I heard a glass smash,” Alfred commented. “Did you break it?”

“It slipped from my hand,” Jacky said negligently. “It’s in the bin now.”

Alfred took one tray while his nephew took the other.

“You couldn’t break the ugly ones?” Andrew commented. “You know, the ones with the blue rims.”

“Hey,” Jacky protested, picking up the juice boxes while Harry grabbed the tray of snacks and mince pieces. “I bought those for Alfred and Gloria for their tenth anniversary. They’re not ugly.”

“They’re special,” Alfred added dryly.

Harry smiled at their good-natured banter as he followed them back to the sitting room.

The trays were placed on the coffee table.

Nana’s wheelchair was wedged between the two sofas; Snape took his place next to her as always.

The other kids were on the floor around the tree while the adults were on the sofa, leaving one space which Jacky took. After relieving himself of the tray, Alfred sat with the children on the floor. Harry found a space at Jacky’s feet, sandwiched between Brian and Sarah.

“Can we open our presents yet?” Laurel asked impatiently, who was seated closest to the tree.

“Don’t you want to drink your juice first?” Gloria asked teasingly, holding out a glass. “Maybe a biscuit for breakfast?”

Beth reached for shortbread in exasperation and bit into it irritably. Where the Dursleys liked to have a full English breakfast for Christmas morning, not that unusual from any other day of the week, Snape’s family indulged in biscuits and pastries first thing in the morning.

“These are nice,” she mumbled through a mouthful, reaching for another.

Alfred reached out for one, handing it over to Lexi, who was half draped across his lap, before taking one himself.

“These don’t taste like they’re from McVities tin,” Alfred commented.

“I made them,” Andrew bragged, nabbing a handful. “Gerroff!”

He lurched away from his twin to stop him from nicking his biscuits. Too late, he didn’t see Maya reach over and steal one from his unsuspecting hand.

Rolling her eyes at their antics, Gloria corrected, “Harry baked them. Andrew helped.”

Andrew winked, unrepentant and not the least put out that he’d been outed.

“Is this what you were doing when you wouldn’t let anyone into the kitchen all day?” Barry asked.

“How come we didn’t smell them baking?” Sarah frowned.

“We kept the window open,” Gloria laughed. “Andrew wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well done, boys,” Alfred said, raising his biscuits as if in a toast.

“Presents now!” Laurel demanded, though she, too, had a biscuit in hand.

“All right, all right, you can start handing them out. Pick out one for each person,” Gloria conceded with a smile, though she reached for a mince pie.

Laurel stuffed the rest of the biscuit into her mouth, chewed vigorously and looked for the first present. “This one’s for Andrew,” she announced and passed it on.

She continued to distribute the presents until everyone had one each, even Harry, though he didn’t expect one.

The children excitedly ripped into their presents while the adults and Harry opened theirs more sedately.

Harry’s first present was from Sarah, which brought a small but genuine smile to his face. It was a silly toy, a Slinky. He took it out of its box and played with it.

“Thanks,” he told her, flashing her a wider smile.

“I didn’t know what else to get you,” she said apologetically.

Harry waved it away, “I love it. Lexi and I will test it out on the stairs, right?”

Hearing her name but not understanding what was said, Lexi nodded enthusiastically nonetheless. Alfred laughed at her antics and helped her with her present. A little doll which she waved around with a smile. Alfred’s first present, fluffy socks, was already on his feet.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Maya squealed as she opened her first present, which happened to be from Harry. “I love it. I love it.”

She scrambled over everyone’s laps to come give Harry a hug. He flailed a little as she threw herself at him, but Brian steadied him, almost getting beaned by the gloves and pads she was holding.

She sniffed against his chest.

“What did you get?” Alfred asked, looking curiously at her reaction.

“Harry got me boxing gloves and pads,” she said, releasing them. “You’ll help me practice while you’re here, won’t you?”

Looking at her pleading look, he stammered, “I’ve never boxed before.”

“We’ll learn together. Please?” she begged.

Harry nodded, and she threw herself at him again. When she let him go, she hugged the gloves and pads to her. Instead of moving back to her original place on the floor, she plonked herself to Harry’s side, forcing Sarah to shift to allow her some space.

“Thanks, Uncle Severus,” Brian called out, holding out his obligatory card with fifty pounds.

Harry had left fifty pounds in an envelope yesterday, which he’d shoved under the door of his room when the man had been salting the drive. So he expected a similar envelope with his name on it.

“Laurel, why don’t you hand out the rest of the presents now?” Jacky suggested. “Time for a free for all. Alfred, hand out the stockings will you, so we can light the fire.”

Andrew helped Laurel hand out the presents, while Lexi helped her father hand out the stockings so he could light the fire.

“The camera’s an amazing idea, Harry,” Nana Bea praised but handed it to Barry to help her set it up. “And it’s not too heavy for me, either.”

“And Harry’s given you plenty of extra film,” Barry added as he opened the packaging for the batteries also provided.

“All right, here goes,” Alfred shook his head as Nana excitedly prepared to take her first photo.

“Everyone smile!” Jacky laughed.

The flash went off a few seconds later.

“Thank you, Harry,” Nana smiled at him. “Oh, I’m too far away. Someone give Harry a hug for me.”

Maya obligingly threw herself at Harry again, squeezing him tight.

“You’re welcome,” he said to Nana as Maya released him.

Nana continued to take pictures, neglecting to open her presents in favour of capturing everyone else’s reactions.

“How did you know I hadn’t read this one?” Barry said, holding up the autobiography Harry bought him.

“Harry’s clearly been paying attention,” Gloria commented, testing the perfume he’d gifted her. “This is lovely, Harry.”

“Lexi helped me pick it out,” he said, embarrassed. Then to Barry, he said, “And you were talking about it wanting it on the first day I was helping in your office.”

“You know, Harry, you’ve only been with us for a few days, and you’ve picked out the best presents,” Nana told him, then snapped another picture.

“Hm, I’m not sure about that,” Jacky said, holding up her half-opened recipe book.

Barry snorted in laughter.

“Maybe I can share that with you,” Andrew said, looking up from his present. “But I love the football shirt, Harry.”

“Me, too,” Brian said.

The twins looked at each, then simultaneously stood up, took off their pyjama tops and put on their new football shirts.

Harry was pleased with everyone’s reactions to his gifts so far. Snape still hadn’t opened his present from Harry. Harry found himself anxious at Snape’s reaction. Snape said to get him a book of some sort because that would have fit in with what everyone expected to get him. Perhaps he should have just stuck to a generic Christmas jumper and one book on Chemistry or something.

He hadn’t realised until he’d been wrapping up Snape’s present why the books he’d bought looked familiar. He recognised the author from the library in Snape’s house in Liverpool. He spent more money on Snape’s present than he’d intended, but not detrimentally so, even before the discount had been applied.

Even if Nana knew the truth, it would give the others pause. Jacky and the others suspected Snape had brought a fake child, but by giving him books that looked like something he would buy himself showed he knew his ‘father’ well, but getting fifty pounds in an envelope from Snape would show the others he knew his ‘son’ as little as he knew his nephews and nieces.

And truthfully, he’s enjoying the scowl on the Potions Master’s face at everyone’s praise. Now that he knows it’s there, he can see Nana’s hiding her amusement too.

He got several Christmas jumpers from the others, which he honestly didn’t mind, even if they were generic presents. They might not be hand-knitted like Mrs Weasleys jumper, but Harry felt they weren’t any less precious for it. This year, at least, he had a variety of warm jumpers to choose from.

Nana Bea gave him a watch and smiled at his reaction.

“I noticed your current watch is a little battered, so I thought you’d appreciate a new one,” she smiled at him.

“Thank you,” he said and went about taking his old one off and replacing it with his new one.

Snape didn’t seem to like the present Nana gave Harry but couldn’t say anything in front of everyone. Harry knew he’d have to give back all his presents to Snape at the end of the holidays, and as much as he’d hate the loss of the watch, which wasn’t even that expensive but still new to Harry, he hoped Snape let him keep the jumpers.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Jacky laughed as she opened her second gift from Harry, testing the scent on her inner wrist. “You have excellent taste, Harry.”

“Wow,” Andrew said. “Harry clearly has his favourite. Mum gets a Christmas jumper, a recipe book and perfume. We only get two things.”

“Actually,” Jacky said, holding out another gift with her name. She stuck out her tongue as they booed at her.

“Oh,” she said in delight and laughed as she opened her gift and pulled out the red onesie.

Barry laughed as he read the words.

“That’s so sweet, Harry,” Jacky said emotionally, awkwardly leaning down and giving him a one-armed hug. “This was thoughtful of you.”

Harry blushed as she planted a kiss on his head, giving him another squeeze before letting go.

“Thank you, Harry,” Maya said, even though she’d already thanked him and hugged him again.

“Oh, someone’s got a new favourite cousin,” Sarah teased.

Maya didn’t deny it, smiling widely at Harry.

“You are my favourite,” she announced, then kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re everyone’s favourite,” Brian declared solemnly. “Because of you, we’ve had something decent to eat.”

“Let’s all hug, Harry,” Andrew beckoned, moving forward.

“You don’t-” Harry protested – or tried to. Harry, and his words, ended up buried under a dog pile of Snape and Rogers children.

“Don’t kill him,” Alfred pleaded, though Harry could hear the smile in his voice. “Or you’ll have to eat Jacky’s dry Christmas turkey.”

There was an immediate shuffling of people getting off Harry. Harry saw a flash go off through the gap between people.

Barry snorted in laughter as Jacky lobbed wrapping paper she’d wadded into a ball at her brother.  

“Just for that, no more biscuits for you,” Jacky threatened, picking up the tray of biscuits. “You can starve until dinner. And no sending your sweet innocent child for them either.”

Another flash went off just as Harry straightened his skewed glasses.

“You’ve created a monster, Harry,” Gloria shook her head as Nana snapped another picture.

“I’ve never had a camera before,” Nana said unconcernedly through her beaming smile. “And Harry must have spent quite a bit of his pocket money on this.”

“Your mum must be generous when it comes to pocket money, Harry,” Sarah commented. “Maybe you can work your magic on my parents.”

The last time Harry had spent anywhere near this amount was when he’d first bought all his equipment for school before he started at Hogwarts. Living with the Dursleys, he’d never got a penny from them. Instead, he got a lecture on how much he was costing them, which he considered complete dragon dung considering he got everything second-hand from Dudley and barely any food. Dudley got everything he demanded, and Harry never bothered asking for anything, knowing he’d be denied. He took out the money from his vault so he’d have cash on hand for emergencies and did the same for muggle currency during the summer but rarely bought anything for himself that wasn’t necessary.

For his friends’ birthday or Christmas gifts, he usually stuck to books or study aids for Hermione or sweets or Quidditch stuff for Ron. He also sent Honeydukes gift cards for the rest of the Weasleys.

This was the first time he’d spent so much in one go on other people and only managed to stay within budget as he took advantage of discounts and offers available. The most expensive gifts he’d bought were the camera, the charms bracelets and charms and Snape’s books.

He doubted Snape would be as appreciative of his gift as the others.

“All right, come on,” Gloria getting everyone’s attention. “Let’s open the last of the presents, open up the stockings and then get started on Christmas dinner. Brian, pass me my stocking, please.”

“Here’s another for you, Harry,” Laurel said, passing Harry an envelope from Snape. “And yours, Sarah.”

Harry opened up his card, revealing his cash as expected.

“Thanks, Dad,” Harry said with as much enthusiasm as he could.

Snape nodded, but his attention was on Sarah.

“What? Are you serious?” Sarah said, looking stunned. “Uncle Severus – I don’t know what to say.”

She looked helplessly at her father and held out the paper to him.

Everyone looked over in curiosity. Sarah was holding a piece of paper instead of the fifty pounds cash she was expecting.

Alfred reached over to pluck the paper from his daughter’s hand. Gloria got off the sofa, slightly concerned when Alfred stood up, his brows snapped together.

Sarah’s siblings and cousins looked confusedly over at the girl in question.

“What’s the meaning of this, Severus?” Alfred said, holding the paper aloft.

Harry recognised it for a cheque but couldn’t make out the amount. He subtly inched closer and squinted until he could make out an amount.

He blinked in surprise at the figure written on there. That was significantly more than fifty pounds.

“I thought it was a generous offer,” Snape said stiffly, though Harry could tell he was surprised at the belligerent tone.

“I don’t need your generous offer,” Alfred repeated sarcastically.

Gloria attempted to be more diplomatic, “Severus, I’m sure you mean well, but we truly don’t need the money.”

“Sarah will be starting university next year,” Snape said slowly, immediately getting a lot of people’s back up by talking them like they were idiots. “She will need to pay for her tuition, books, and equipment: I’m simply trying to ease the burden of taking more loans than necessary.”

“Are you saying you think I can’t afford to educate my daughter?” Alfred hissed, and for the first time, Harry thought the kind man reminded him of Snape.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Snape said in frustration.

“Lads, help me take this mess back to the kitchen,” Jacky said quietly.

The children were looking between Alfred and Snape in concern. However, they quietly gathered the glasses and food onto the trays and followed Jacky quietly back to the kitchen.

“Sarah, can you help?” Jacky beckoned.

Sarah looked at her parents helplessly. Gloria gave her a reassuring nod.

“Daddy mad?” the little girl asked, tugging on her father’s robe.

“No, love,” he said, smoothing his expression and kneeling down to hug her. “Go help Aunt Jacky.”

Harry quietly took Lexi’s hand and followed the others to the kitchen. Sarah took Lexi and sat at the kitchen table, but Harry helped Jacky clean up by washing the glasses while she put away the drinks in the fridge.

“How much was it for?” Brian asked in curiosity.

Even Jacky turned around to hear the answer.

“A thousand pounds,” she said in a small voice.

Andrew and Brian made shocked noises.

“Generous indeed,” Jacky snorted.

Harry said nothing as he placed the last glass on the draining board.

“Did you know he was going to do that, Harry?” Sarah asked.

Harry turned around and silently shook his head.

“I’m sure he meant well,” Harry said, his defence half-hearted. He’d been around the family and talked to the children enough to know that Snape was tolerated by them. By the way the children spoke about their uncle, their parents made every effort to include Snape in more than just Christmas but have always been rebuffed. However, speaking to Nana this morning, he had some insight into the man. His relationship with Harry was nothing more than student and teacher, so at the end of the day, those insights didn’t make any difference to Harry.

But the man had some affection for his cousins and their children but struggled to show that he cared. In all honesty, Harry believed Snape brought this on himself.

“Look, Harry, I know he’s your dad, but –” Sarah looked at Jacky hesitantly but seemed to get no guidance from her aunt. So the girl took a deep breath and plunged right in, “You’re a great cousin, Harry. Before you came here, we thought you’d be just like him. So we’re glad you’re nothing like him. But the fact is, he’s never here. Sending money for our birthday is great, but there’s no effort involved in that. I’m surprised he even remembers our birthdays. You’ve been here a week, and you know that Andrew and Brian love football, and Maya wants to do Kickboxing. You know I like puzzles, but instead of jigsaws, you got me the kind that involves logic. Even the Charms bracelet you picked out for the girls is something the girls are interested in. You put in the time and effort to know all of us in the short time you’ve been here with us. Your dad didn’t bother with any of that.”

“We just don’t feel like he’s family,” Andrew added with a shrug.

“Andrew,” Jacky admonished, though it was half-hearted.

“It’s true,” the boy said defensively. “If Uncle Severus stopped turning up for Christmas every year, the only thing we’d miss out on is fifty quid. Even that’s no big deal. I mean, sure, the money is nice, but it’s not like our parents can’t afford to buy stuff if we want it.”

“He’s got an organiser on his desk that has everyone’s birthdays on there,” Harry said when everyone fell silent. “He has pictures of all of you in his library. It’s the room he spends the most time in when he’s home.”

When Harry stayed with Snape for two days, the man spent more time in the lab than anywhere else, but Harry could tell by how well worn the furniture, particularly the desk and armchair, that Snape spent more time in that room than anywhere else.

Looking at Sarah, he says, “You’re wearing a yellow top and blue jeans, and you’re holding Lexi. I think it was taken in the hospital.”

Turning to the twins, “There’s a picture of both of you – you’re wearing your school uniform, and it says ‘Boys first day at big school’. There’s another one of Beth and Laurel together. I think it’s at a school party. Laurel’s dressed for the school nativity, and Beth’s trying to steal her hat. He’s got one of Maya hanging from a tree. And another of Lexi with Marley.”

Everyone listens with rapt attention.

“He barely told me about all of you,” Harry shrugged, “but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Trust me, I know.”

 “That still doesn’t mean he can just hand over a thousand pounds,” Sarah argued weakly.

“You don’t have to take it,” Harry pointed out. “He’s trying to show you he’s aware of what’s happening in your life the best way he knows. When he found out about Nana being ill, he was agitated.”

If Jacky felt guilty for that lie, she didn’t show it.

“He’s more comfortable around Nana than anyone else. She supported him when he needed someone in his life, but he still doesn’t know how to build relationships.”

“What’s he like as a teacher then?”

Harry shrugged again. “He knows his stuff, but he’s crap at communicating that to his students.”

“Doesn’t he tutor you in stuff because you’re his son?” Brian asked.

“No,” Harry said, and he couldn’t imagine spending more time with Snape and giving him the opportunity to rag on him even more. “I don’t care about P-Chemistry. I like Maths better.”

He definitely wished that he’d taken Arithmancy over Divination. He blamed Ron’s influence on that choice. Harry never had anyone caring about his school works before. The Dursleys didn’t care about Harry’s work as long as he didn’t call attention to himself by performing too poorly or well enough to have them called in to meet the teachers. So Harry settled himself in the middle of the pack and continued that trend even after he started at Hogwarts.

He’d followed Ron’s lead on Divination because he didn’t know any better, and he was nowhere near as studious as Hermione. And certainly, the Dursleys didn’t care enough about Harry and his Hogwarts schooling to guide him and advise him on electives. But listening to the others over the last week, he realised he would never have anyone caring about his schoolwork, no matter the pretend going on now. So it was up to him to look out for himself. Hearing Sarah say she wanted to be a doctor or Brian saying he wanted to be a Vet made Harry realise he had no idea what direction he wanted to go in.

Ron had grown up in the wizarding world and knew all about the different careers, and Hermione had probably researched every single one of them. Harry felt he was still surviving day to day in school, no different to surviving day to day with the Dursleys.

He knew his end goal was to leave the Dursleys as soon as he was on age, but beyond that? He had no clue. As much as he liked Quidditch, he never considered going professional in that sport. When he returned to Hogwarts, he would switch from Divination to Arithmancy at the first opportunity and look into careers for the future. He might only be thirteen, but he had no one to talk to about his options other than himself. Hermione might be the most driven of the trio, but even she could speak to her parents about her future.

He wished he had what Sarah and Brian had – parents who cared about him and his future.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts,  he looked at Sarah, “He’s showing an interest in your future. It’s up to you and your parents to decide whether you want to take that.”

“You have a better way with people than your dad does, Harry,” Jacky said ruefully. “It’s obvious you’re not close, but you know him a heck of a lot better than he knows you.”

“So, what now?” Beth asked.

“You all go get changed for Christmas dinner. We’ll lay out some more snacks for anyone who has the munchies. I’ll get started on the Christmas dinner then.”

“I want to help with Christmas dinner as well,” Andrew added quickly. Looking to Harry, he asked hesitantly, “You are still helping, right?”

“If I’m allowed in the kitchen,” Harry replied.

Sarah snorted in amusement as she hugged her silent sister and rested her chin on her head, “You’re the only one who’s allowed in the kitchen.”

“I hope no one’s made a mess,” Andrew said, inspecting everyone. “Harry and I were scrubbing this place on our hands and knees.”

Jacky pointedly cleared her throat.

“I swear, I helped,” Andrew protested. “Tell her, Harry.”

“He helped,” Harry repeated dutifully. “He cleaned the fridge and all the cupboards.”

“Thank you,” Andrew huffed.

“I hope this tradition of cleaning continues at home,” Jacky said with a raised brow.

“Eh,” the boy shrugged, looking unconcerned.

Jacky threw her tea towel at him.

“Can we go play in the snow?” Laurel asked, looking out the window.

“Go get dressed first,” Jacky ordered.

Harry scrambled after the others. He didn’t want to get changed in front of the twins, so he made an excuse to use the bathroom first. He heard the girls rush upstairs and the muted voices of Alfred, Gloria and Snape from the Sitting room.

Harry used the bathroom and slowly made his way back to the den, hoping he’d given Andrew and Brian enough time to change. By the time he entered the den again, the boys had changed their pyjama bottoms for jeans but opted to keep on their new football shirts. They threw on their new Christmas jumpers and were ready to go.

Harry quickly dug out his clothes from his trunk and got changed. He picked out his Weasley jumper from last year, since his new jumpers were still in the Sitting room. He stepped out of the den, wondering whether he should go to the kitchen or the Sitting room.

Thankfully, the decision was made for him when Sarah came back down with the other girls, all dressed for Christmas dinner and headed to the Sitting, though Sarah entered cautiously.

The boys were already there; Andrew held the bin bag as Brian dumped the discarded wrapping paper into it.

Gloria ambled in calmly, though the other adults were nowhere in sight. Even Nana was missing.

“All right, kids. Pick up your presents and take them away. Sarah, I need a quick word.”

Sarah followed her mother into the Dining room as Harry and the others picked up their unwrapped gifts and proceeded to take them back to their rooms. Brian and Andrew helped the girls carry their things up, who insisted on leaving a few things down to play with. Harry made two trips to the den to take his and the twins’ things. Lexi decided to follow him, insisting on helping, so Harry allowed her to carry some jumpers for each trip.

He noticed Snape had taken all his things up already. Maya insisted on leaving her new boxing things down, wanting Harry, in particular, to practice with her.

“Harry?” Lexi got his attention by tugging on his jumper.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning from folding his jumpers away.

“Hole,” she said, pointing to the small but noticeable hole on Harry’s side.

“Oh damn,” he said as he poked a finger through it. “Sorry, that was a bad word.”

Lexi nodded solemnly.

“Daddy say that.”

Harry displayed his new Christmas jumpers and asked, “Which one shall I wear?”

Lexi gave it serious thought as she examined all four of them and pointed to a red one.

“Rudy,” she said.

Harry nodded seriously. “Good choice.”

He took off his Weasley jumper, with a bit of regret, turning slightly away from Lexi. His t-shirt rode up, but he quickly pulled it down, hoping the four-year-old didn’t notice. When he glanced back at her, he realised he needn’t have worried as she was busy playing with his new Slinky from Sarah. More calmly, he pulled on his new jumper, not realising his back was to the open door, where Maya was standing with her boxing gloves in hand with an uncomfortable look on her face.

She ducked out of sight as Harry turned to check the door and then knocked as Harry put away his jumpers.

She thanked him again for her present, “It’s the best thing ever. I’ve been trying to get mum and dad to take me for ages, but I knew they already got my present for Christmas, and I don’t think they were planning on getting me lessons until my birthday next year. Now, they don’t have to worry about getting me gloves for next year.”

Harry listened silently, and uncomfortably, as she rambled her gratitude.

“One of my best friends is a girl,” Harry said when she stopped for breath. “She’s the strongest person I know, and it doesn’t matter that she’s a girl. She’s stronger than me.”

Of course, Harry meant magically than physically, but that made no difference to him.

“If you like Kickboxing and find you’re good at it, then you keep practising. Especially on those idiot boys at school who think you’re less of a person for being a girl.”

Maya giggled nervously and gave him another hug.

“Do you want to go practice now?” he offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Let’s check with your mum and Aunt Gloria about what time they’re starting on dinner first.”

Maya nodded agreeably but, for some reason, still looked uncomfortable.

“Can we go see Marley?” Lexi added hopefully.

Harry laughed, took Lexi’s hand and walked back to the kitchen.

Chapter 7 – Step on their Toes

Severus cast a Silencing Charm on his room the second he dumped his gifts on his bed, then began cussing loudly.

He’d only been trying to help Alfred and his family. He knew they didn’t have a high income, and expenses would pile up with four children. With room and board paid for by the school, his teacher’s salary piled up in his vault. Despite spending little time in the muggle world, he still kept a muggle account where he asked the goblins to transfer ten per cent of his salary annually. This was the account he used to send money for the children’s birthdays and any other muggle requirements he had.

As he didn’t use it very often, and the goblins looked after his savings on his behalf, even in the muggle world, Severus had a tidy amount accrued in both worlds. He supplemented his salary by selling potions – most of that money went to travelling for more potion ingredients, accruing more books and general maintenance for his potion-making passion.

He had no children of his own and never planned for them. He had Draco as his godson and couldn’t stand any other brats. He tolerated his cousin’s children because they were family, so he planned to leave his muggle wealth to them upon his death. However, considering he was a wizard, he expected to live a long time, so perhaps the next generation would benefit from his wealth instead of the current one.

Suffice to say, he could comfortably pay for Sarah’s tuition fees and not feel any financial strain. She was a sensible child and would go far in her life with her attitude towards work. She was ambitious and clever, and Severus had no compunction supporting her academic endeavours.

Brian planned to be a Veterinarian like his father, and Severus also planned to donate the same amount to the boy if he wished to continue down that career path. However, given Alfred’s reaction to his generous offer, he suspected Jacqueline would be just as stubborn in accepting the money.

Nana Bea never said a word for or against, listening silently to both sides arguing. However, in the end, she suggested they ask Sarah her opinion. He only hoped Sarah was practical enough to talk some sense into her parents and accept the money.

He didn’t know what chip on his shoulder Alfred had about accepting the money, but Severus felt hurt to have his motivations questioned. It only reinforced the feeling that they tolerated him for Nana’s sake, and should she pass away before next Christmas, he doubted he would be invited back.

He was beginning to realise he didn’t want that.

ooOoo

The snow wasn’t thick, but there was enough that the children could make snow angels. They all bundled up and stepped into the garden. Andrew and Brian collected snow and dumped it in the middle of the garden so they could begin making a snowman.

Harry, as promised, held the focus pads for Maya to practice on. He quickly learned to brace himself by planting his feet and squatting slightly for fear of falling over. Despite not starting lessons, Maya seemed decent at throwing punches and thoroughly enjoyed herself but seemed oddly protective of hurting Harry.

“Do you want a turn?” she asked as Harry shook out the strain of holding the pads in the same position.

“Nah, it’s all right,” Harry said. “You keep practising.”

He was never interested in punching people or martial arts.

Maya gave him a faint smile, though for some reason looked anxious, and continued to practise, gaining more and more confidence. They tried kicks next, but that was more problematic as it was getting slippery in the snow and Maya was less practised with her kicks than her punches.

Still, they were both pleased. After a while, they went to help the twins gather more snow. Lexi, bundled up in a thick coat, hat and mittens, helped by slapping handfuls of snow onto the bottom half of the snowball Andrew and Brian created for the snowman.

It began snowing quite heavily again, and quite suddenly, forcing everyone back inside. Andrew and Brian carefully carried Lexi between them, as Harry and the girls held onto each other tightly as they headed back to the house.

“Oh, you’re coming back in already?” Barry asked, dressed in his warmest coat, hat and gloves, looking ready to join them for frolicking in the snow. “I was about to come out and join you.”

“It’s snowing too heavy right now,” Brian said regretfully, lowering Lexi to the ground and brushing the snow from her coat. “Maybe later, when it’s calmer. We can finish the snowman.”

“And have a snowball fight,” Beth piped up, shaking the coat before hanging it up. “I’m on Harry’s team.”

“My darling Maya will be on my team, right?” Barry winked.

“No, I’m on Harry’s team,” Maya said.

Barry gave a comical look of dismay.

“Betrayed,” he said, clutching his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Maya rolled her eyes.

“We’ll be on your team, Dad,” Andrew said brightly.

“It’s not the same,” Barry shook his head.

“Harry bought her boxing stuff,” Brian said frankly. “We’re all dirt beneath her shoes now.”

Instead of joking back as she usually would, Maya looked uncomfortable again.

“Are you all right, love?” Barry asked in concern.

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly. “Where’s Mum? In the kitchen?”

“Yes,” he answered, giving his daughter the same concerned look.

“Come on, Harry,” Andrew said, hanging up his coat and pulling off his wellies. “Let’s go help in the kitchen. I can’t wait to get Christmas dinner started.”

“Really getting into the cooking thing, aren’t you?” Barry raised a brow at his son’s enthusiasm.

“I need to go speak to Mum,” Maya said, running off and leaving everyone confused.

“Okay,” Barry said slowly.

“Can we bring Marley inside? He’s cold,” Lexi begged her uncle.

“Perhaps after dinner, baby,” Barry promised his niece.

“But it’s snowing,” she insisted.

“Ask your dad,” Barry smiled sympathetically.

She nodded dejectedly, perhaps already knowing the answer, and refused to take off her coat, bounding away to find her father nonetheless.

Harry hung up his coat, though, given its thinness, it felt like it was no protection against the cold. He’d had the focus pads to keep his hands warm when helping Maya practise; however, his hands were freezing from handling the snow.

“Is that your coat, Harry?” Barry asked as he watched Harry hang it up. “You must have been freezing. Didn’t you bring something warmer? And what about your gloves?”

“I picked up the wrong one,” Harry lied, ducking his head. “And left my gloves in there.”

“Well, Alfred will have a spare,” Barry said. “It’ll be big on you, but it’ll be better than that. And I’m sure we’ve got spare gloves lying about.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered, slipping his feet into the house slippers. “I’ll ask later.”

“Can we go into the kitchen now?” Andrew asked, somewhat impatient.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Harry said, blowing warmth into his red hands and rubbing them together.

Andrew was practically bouncing in excitement as he headed into the kitchen, with Harry trailing behind.

“But Mum, I really need to speak to you. Please?” Maya was pleading.

Looking confused and concerned, Jacky said, “Maya, darling, we’re about to start Christmas dinner. Can it wait a little longer?”

Seeing Harry and Andrew enter, Maya gave them a helpless, unhappy look and nodded miserably.

“Can I stay?”

“Of course,” Gloria said.

“You can even help if you want,” Jacky teased.

“I’ll help,” Maya said, still looking unhappy.

“What do we start with, Harry?” Andrew asked enthusiastically.

“Er,” Harry stuttered, wondering why the older boy was looking at him rather than his mother and aunt.

“Really, now,” Gloria said, taking a bit of pressure off Harry, “you’re acting like your mother and I are completely useless in the kitchen. Not that I’m saying you’re not a good cook, Harry. Your food is wonderful.”

Harry didn’t know what to do with that assurance.

“Thanks?” he said, confused.

“Your turkey is always dry, and the vegetables are either burnt or still crunchy,” Andrew said bluntly.

“Or both,” Maya piped up, coming out of her funk. “Or mushy and horrible.”

“You can cook turkey, right, Harry?” Andrew demanded.

“You can’t expect Harry to cook for us,” Jacky added sharply. “He’s here as our guest.”

“No, he’s not,” Andrew denied. He soldiered on before his mother could admonish him. “He’s here as family. And I thought you wanted us to do more family things together. Cooking just happens to be his greatest strength, and I’d rather learn from Harry than from you.”

“To be fair, he would learn more from Harry than from you,” Gloria quipped.

Jacky rolled her eyes, not the least bit offended. She turned to Harry, stepping closer, and placed a hand on his shoulder, missing seeing her daughter flinch at the action. Gloria has seen it, though and gave her niece a bemused frown.

“Harry,” Jacky began gently, “I’m not denying that you’re a better cook than me because you absolutely are. However, it’s not your responsibility to feed everyone Christmas dinner. It’s a huge task. We’re a big enough family that we buy two medium turkeys, plus all the trimmings that go with that. It might not be the best Christmas dinner you’ll eat (she ignored Andrew’s snort), but I promise you’ll get fed.”

Then giving her son a quelling glare, she added, “Don’t feel pressured to help because of my idiot son. Andrew can learn to cook tomorrow. Anyway, it’ll be best for Andrew to start small.”

Andrew looked deflated, a look he’d not seen on the otherwise confident older boy.

“I don’t mind helping,” Harry told her earnestly. And truly, he didn’t. It wasn’t often that anyone looked at Harry like they actually wanted to learn something from him. And though he wasn’t arrogant like Snape thought he was, he knew he could cook well. If he could please the Dursleys’ impossible standards, then anything he made subpar would still be good for Snape’s family. Snape might find something to criticise, but just like with the Dursleys, Harry gave up getting Snape’s approval after his first Potions lesson when Snape blamed Harry for Neville’s cauldron exploding.

Andrew beamed at him.

“Thanks, Harry,” Andrew said as if Harry had agreed to give him a million pounds rather than help with Christmas dinner. Then looking at his mother, he asked, “Where do we start?”

“We’ve already turned the oven on,” Jacky told him, “so it’s ready for the turkey. Now we’re going to prep the turkey. How do your family prepare the turkey, Harry?”

“Oh, er,” Harry looked at the counter. “We usually add butter between the skin and stuff with onion and lemons.”

“Yes, that. Let’s do that,” Andrew said enthusiastically. He pulled Harry towards the counter and waited for instructions. “What first?”

“I need to wash my hands,” Harry said and headed for the sink.

Andrew copied him without complaint.

“Come on, Harry,” Andrew said impatiently as he dried his hands. “Tell me what to do?”

Harry looked at Jacky and Gloria, who both gave him an amused smile and gestured for him to continue.

“Would you like a pinny, Harry?” Gloria said with a laugh, picking one up from the hook on the back of the kitchen door.

Harry took the flowery apron, cleared his throat and slowly began to show Andrew what he knew, becoming more relaxed at the older boy’s energy and fervour.

ooOoo

Jacky had seen Harry cook several times over the last few days and had been impressed by his quiet competence in the kitchen. She’d been genuinely amazed at how comfortable Harry was at cooking and how he cleaned up after himself.

None of her children ever did that, or Jacky, for that matter. Nor Alfred’s, though Sarah and Laurel were the most organised of the bunch. Heck, even Gloria wasn’t so focused when it came to cleaning, and she was a nurse who always implored for a hygienic environment. Harry was practically obsessive when it came to cleaning. And terribly efficient when he cooked.

For example, watching him now, he had concentrated on preparing everything for the turkeys they would be cooking. He had Andrew cut several onions and lemons in half while Harry prepared the butter, chopping up parsley, zesting and juicing lemons, with several cloves of garlic for flavour. He fearlessly seasoned the inside of the cavities and then stuffed the turkey cavities with onions and lemons. Watching Harry stuff the flavoured butter between the turkey skin with nary a look of disgust was just as impressive. Despite his enthusiasm, even Andrew baulked at touching the turkey carcass until he saw how calm Harry was. Not wanting to show himself as weaker than the younger boy, Andrew tried to deal with the turkey as steadily as Harry.

It took Gloria to point out to Jacky that Harry had somehow taken over the whole responsibility of cooking Christmas dinner.

“Should we say something?” Jacky asked, feeling a little overwhelmed at Harry’s precision when it came to cooking.

Gloria looked just as uncertain and more than a little impressed.

“He’s surprisingly patient given who his father is,” Jacky added.

“To be fair,” Gloria said, lowering her voice even more, “we don’t know what Severus is like as a teacher.”

“Harry said Severus was bad at communicating what he knows,” Jacky informed her sister-in-law. “And also, I meant as a person, not as a teacher.”

Gloria gave a half-sheepish look that had Jacky giggling. Even Gloria, who’d not known Severus as long as Jacky and Alfred had, did not have a high opinion of Severus. The man deigned to visit them once a year at Christmas as if he was doing them a favour, spent more time with Nana, which they never begrudged, but treated the rest of them like they were morons. Severus always looked down on them as if they were inferior in some way. Like just because he had a degree in Chemistry that he was somehow better than them.

Jacky might not have gone to university and earned a degree, but Alfred and Barry worked their arses off learning to be Veterinarians. With a highly successful practice, to boot. And Gloria had almost killed herself while studying for her Nurses exams. It felt like none of that mattered to Severus. Like no one apart from Nana mattered.

“He’s an expert with a turkey,” Gloria whispered, not paying attention to the carrots she and Jacky were supposed to be peeling. “Look at that – he’s stuffed the butter under the skin without wasting any of it.”

Conversely, working with the second turkey, Andrew had butter smeared on his arms, face, apron and jumper, even though his sleeves were rolled up. Not once during this whole process did Harry get impatient or annoyed at his older cousin.

“It’s okay,” Harry said placatingly, “You want to have butter on top as well.”

Harry’s turkey was a work of art. So was Andrew’s, but her son’s turkey looked more like the paintings she kept from his childhood – of Andrew’s earlier attempts at finger painting. Harry fixed the second turkey as best he could.

Then, to their surprise, Harry placed both turkeys on a bed of carrots he took from the pile that Jacky and Gloria had yet to peel, though they were washed. He had added celery, onions and finally, the giblets, which Jacky never knew what to do with.

“What’s that for?” Jacky asked curiously.

“The gravy,” Harry said, looking at them uncertainly. “Is that not how you make it?”

“We usually stick with Bisto,” Gloria said, pressing her lips together to fight her amusement.

“Oh, I can take it out if you prefer Bisto,” Harry said, reaching for the roasting pans.

“Well, we’re not going to say no to fresh gravy,” Jacky said. “Nana used to make it, but it’s been years since she’s been able to spend so much time on her feet.”

Then, remembering their wheelchair ruse, she quickly tacked on, “Even before, she was in a wheelchair. Old age, you know.”

Jacky would have rambled on if Gloria hadn’t nudged her to keep her trap shut. The two adults found themselves listening to the thirteen-year-old carefully as he explained how to calculate how long a turkey needed to be in the oven.

“It’s roughly thirty minutes per kilo,” Harry said.

“How’s it going here?” Alfred asked as he entered the kitchen, then stopped and sniffed the air. The cooking hadn’t begun, but the scent of lemons and garlic was in the air.

“It’s going well,” Gloria answered, turning to her husband. “Where’s Sarah?”

“In her room, thinking about stuff,” Alfred answered evenly. “She’ll be down to help.”

“We’ve only just put the turkeys in the oven,” Jacky told him. “There’s still all the trimmings to do.”

“Are you doing mash potatoes?” Alfred asked, coming further in.

“You’ll have to ask the bosses,” Gloria said, holding up her hands in surrender, conceding the kitchen to the teens.

Andrew looked to Harry for guidance, who nodded absently, setting a timer for the oven.

“We can make mash,” Andrew relayed back.

Belatedly realising Alfred was dressed to go out, sans shoes, Jacky asked, “Going back out to make a snowman?”

“No,” Alfred said, picking out a raw carrot to chomp on, “Sam Baker called – he said his brother missed his train to Glasgow yesterday and asked if we minded if he joined us for Christmas dinner today.”

“Oh, that Iain,” Gloria sighed. “I bet he missed the train on purpose. Sam even offered to drive down, but Iain’s a stubborn old fool. Really, Sam should have called us yesterday when his brother missed the train. We could have brought Iain over last night, and he wouldn’t have woken up alone on Christmas morning. Or we could have fetched him first thing. But of course, he’s welcome here. Even if he ends up criticising everything.”

Jacky laughed, “He’ll start before even he even leaves the house.”

“Good thing there’s a few hours before the food’s ready, then,” Alfred said brightly. “Plenty of time to listen to Iain’s nitpicking.”

“Are you going alone?” Gloria asked.

“No, Beth said she wanted to go with me,” Alfred shrugged.

“All right,” Gloria nodded. “Where are the others?”

“Severus is sulking in his room,” Alfred shrugged. “Barry and Nana are watching Christmas films on the telly with the girls. Brian’s helping Lexi and Laurel sneak Marley into the house, and I’m here pretending I don’t know.”

Gloria nodded.

“Will you call Sarah down before you leave? She said she wanted to learn how to make cranberry sauce,” Jacky requested.

“Wish you could cook other food as well as you make cranberry sauce,” Alfred muttered.

Andrew snorted from beside Harry.

“Jams and sauces are Mum’s speciality,” Andrew explained, even though Harry had heard this before. “Every year, we have to drown dry turkey in apple or cranberry sauce. And do you know how long it takes to finish all that dry turkey?”

“Oh, is that what the apples were for?” Harry said anxiously, turning around, ignoring Andrew’s complaints of dry turkey. “I used them for the apple crumbles the other day.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Jacky assured the young lad. “I made the apple sauces before you arrived. Those apples were left over.”

“And she’s hidden the jars so no one can finish them before Christmas Day,” Alfred added dryly.

“Can you make cranberry sauce, Harry?” Gloria asked.

Harry shrugged, but Jacky realised the boy was just being modest. She was beginning to see there was very little the boy didn’t know when it came to cooking. At least he was passionate when it came to cooking and able to pass that on to Andrew. She’d never seen Andrew so animated about anything other than football before.

“You better leave now, or Iain will keep you there for ages, and you’ll miss Harry and Andrew’s glorious Christmas Dinner,” Gloria ordered, practically pushing her husband out the door. She kissed him on the lips and reminded him, “Don’t forget to tell Sarah to come down.”

“Yes, dear,” her brother mocked. “Want to come with me, Maya?”

Maya, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, shook her head, and looked back at Harry with an unusual intensity.

Alfred sighed fondly and walked out of the kitchen, with Jacky and Gloria following behind. They stopped outside the den.

“Yet another one to fall for Harry’s charms,” Alfred muttered to his wife and sister under his breath.

“Feeling jealous?” Jacky needled.

“No,” Alfred shook his head. “He’s a good lad. Plus, he’s family.”

“Is he, though?” Jacky said with an undertone, unaware Andrew had them followed out.

Alfred gave her a sharp look upon hearing her.

“You’re still suspicious?” her brother asked.

Jacky took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Sometimes. Severus spent so long fobbing us off that we all suspected he was having us on. Plus, he doesn’t act like Harry’s dad.”

Gloria, who hadn’t spent as much time with Harry and Severus until recently, tried to play mediator.

“Look at this logically; Severus said Claudia was strict about custody, so obviously Severus and Harry won’t have a good relationship. They’ve not spent that much time together. And Severus gave the kids the same amount of Christmas money he gives every year; even Harry got the same. If we leave out the fact that he’s given Sarah a little extra”(Jacky snorted, a thousand pounds was definitely extra), “he’s still done his duty. Harry’s the one who picked out everyone else’s presents. He got everyone exactly what they’d like. With his own money. It was incredibly generous of him to do that. If he wasn’t Severus’s son, why would he do that?”

Jacky sighed again. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. No boy in his right mind would spend what Harry spent on our presents if he didn’t have to. Harry is Severus’s son. Harry told us Severus has pictures of everyone in his house. In his library, where he spends most of his time. I don’t know why I’m still suspicious. I mean, Harry clearly knows Severus. He knows about Severus’s childhood with Uncle Tobias. Severus is a private bastard; I can’t see him telling anyone about something like that with some orphan boy from the street.”

Alfred looked at her in surprise, “Harry knows about Tobias’s treatment?”

Jacky nodded glumly.

Clearing her throat, Gloria said decisively, “See? You’re both suspicious for no reason. Harry’s a lovely lad. The children get on with him. Severus and Harry just need to work through a few things, but that’s their business.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jacky conceded.

Behind them, Andrew slinked away without being noticed.

“Now, go upstairs and send Sarah down,” Gloria ordered her husband. “Then go get Iain. And take a few spades with you, just in case. Iain’ll need garden shovelling. He’s too old to do it himself and too proud to ask for help.”

Jacky headed back to the kitchen. Gloria was only a few steps behind.

ooOoo

Severus heard Alfred’s footsteps ascend the stairs and froze, not wanting another confrontation with his cousin. He quickly stepped back and hid on the stairs up to the attic.

Any hopes of Alred disappearing into his bedroom so Severus could sneak past undetected were dashed when he heard Alfred knocking on Sarah’s door.

“Sarah, love, can I come in?” Alfred called from the hallway.

“Come in,” came Sarah’s muffled voice.

“You okay, love?” Alfred’s voice drifted through the open door. “Thinking about Uncle Severus’s cheque?”

Sarah must have nodded as no reply came back.

Technically, he could sneak past if he was quiet, but curiosity had him rooted where he was. He carefully sat down on the steps, ensuring he was out of sight.

There was a brief silence, and the sound of Alfred’s footsteps, the scraping of a chair being pulled and creaking as Severus imagined his cousin taking a seat.

“Nana said I should ask you what you want,” Alfred began the conversation. “Where’s your head at?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah confessed miserably.

“It was generous of him,” Alfred admitted.

Severus wished he’d heard this tone earlier when Sarah first opened the envelope containing the cheque.

“Why did it make you angry?” Sarah asked.

Severus leaned forward, interested in the answer.

“I might have overreacted,” Alfred acknowledged. He gave a deep sigh. “Severus only comes for Nana Bea. The rest of us don’t matter to him. You know, when Severus first came to stay with us – when he was sixteen – he was a horrible brat. God – he acted so entitled. Like he was somehow better than us.”

Severus was stunned.

“He went to this posh school in Scotland and came back the following summer like he was the only one who’d ever accomplished anything. I tried to reach out to him. Like you lot, who’d never met Harry until last week, Jacky and I never met Severus. Uncle Tobias left us completely, and his wife, Eileen, she was horrible from what I’d heard. Nana’s heart was always big; when she heard Severus had no one else – she told us that Severus had us.

“But – Severus never acted like he had us. In fact, Severus always acted like we didn’t exist. Jacky and I worked all hours back then. She didn’t have to, but Aunt Jacky helped me pay for my tuition and books. I worked my way through university, too. We’d come home, exhausted, and Nana would be up waiting for us. No matter what time. But Severus barely spoke to us. We didn’t matter to him, and he’s proven that time and time again.”

Severus was glad no one was around to see the flush on his cheeks. He never knew this was how Alfred felt. He never gave his cousins any consideration when he was sixteen. He never felt they reached out to him like Nana had. Had he just missed it? He always thought they’d used work as an excuse to not spend time with him, so he simply stayed away.

“Severus hasn’t changed much over the years,” Alfred said. “He puts in the same effort he always has for the rest of us, which is to say none at all.

“Severus giving you a cheque for a thousand pounds, while generous, just shows how little he knows about us. My issue with Severus is that he makes little effort to get to know us. Nana said it earlier – Harry made more of an effort to understand us in the week he’s been here than Severus has since he’s known us.”

“Harry said Uncle Severus has pictures of us in his house,” Sarah told her father.

Severus shook his head. He’d be having words with Potter – he should have known the boy would stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Jacky mentioned that,” Alfred acknowledged calmly.

“Harry said –” Sarah began to say but faltered.

Severus tensed. What did that brat say? Potter wouldn’t miss any opportunity to put his teacher down. He’d probably relish the chance to divide Severus from his family.

“What did Harry say?” Alfred prompted gently.

“Harry said Uncle Severus isn’t any more demonstrative with him as he is with us,” Sarah continued. “He said Uncle Severus was really upset when he learned how ill Nana Bea was. And how Uncle Severus does care about us but doesn’t know how to show it. Harry said Uncle Severus was just trying to show he knows what’s happening with us the best way he knows how.”

Severus relaxed. That wasn’t bad. For Potter. Potter must still be playing the dutiful son.

“Harry said it was my decision if I wanted to take the money or not.”

“He’s right,” Alfred agreed.

“Harry said something else.”

Severus found himself tensing again. He knew bringing Potter with him was a bad idea.

“Well – it was more the way he said it,” Sarah clarified.

“Oh?”

“Harry said Uncle Severus was bad at building relationships -” (Severus was going to kill Potter- the Boy-Who-Lived would be no more), “but he when he said it was my choice whether I wanted to take the money or not, he sort of implied that maybe taking the money would step towards building a better relationship with Uncle Severus.”

“Really?”

Really? Severus echoed silently.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said frustratedly. “I might just be reading into it too much. He’s Harry’s dad. Of course Harry would defend his dad.”

Potter defend him? Severus shook his head in disbelief.

“We don’t need Severus’s money,” Alfred told his daughter, “but if you decide to accept it, I won’t argue with you about it. You can use it for books or equipment. Just like he said.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah prevaricated. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“You do that, love,” Alfred said nonchalantly. “In the meantime, Jacky’s asked if you wanted to join her in the kitchen. She’s about to make her cranberry sauce and asked if you still wanted to learn how to make it.”

Sarah laughed, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good. I’m heading off to Iain Baker’s. He missed his train to Glasgow yesterday, and Sam’s asked if he could join us for dinner today, so he’s not alone.”

“Oh, dad,” Sarah groaned. “Not Iain Baker. He’s such a horrible person. He’ll spend the whole time moaning about everything from the weather, which he thinks you can control, and how we’ve decorated the Christmas tree. He even complains about the cranberry sauce Aunt Jacky makes, but it doesn’t stop him from asking for all her jam.”

Alfred laughed at his daughter’s grumbling.

“Yes, he does do all that,” he agreed, “but it’s Christmas, and we can’t leave him alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sarah sighed resignedly. “I’ll be down in a bit. Take your time with Mr Baker.”

Severus waited until he heard Alfred leave Sarah’s room and head towards the stairs before he stood up and moved. He paused outside Sarah’s door briefly but then walked downstairs, lost in thought.

Alfred was explaining that he needed to fetch this Iain Baker, whoever he was, to Nana Bea when Severus entered the Sitting room.

“Oh, it’ll do Iain good to get out of the house and visit us,” Nana said. “Oh, Severus, did you hear about Iain Baker?”

“I don’t know who he is,” Severus admitted, not looking at his cousin.

“He’s a neighbour, about a mile down. His brother moved to Glasgow forty years ago. They’re both widowed with no children, but Sam found a new girlfriend last year and Iain’s still sulking about it. He missed the train to see his brother yesterday, and Sam asked if his brother could join us instead.”

“I see,” Severus said with a sinking heart. One more person to put up with. It was Alfred’s house. He could hardly tell him who not to invite.

“Take Severus with you,” Nana suggested in a bright voice, as if Severus was a child who needed to be entertained.

“What?” “I beg your pardon?”

“Go on, Severus. Go with Alfred,” Nana urged.

“Severus won’t want to come with me to pick up our neighbour, Nana. He’ll want to spend his time with you.”

After hearing Alfred complain about not spending time with the rest of the family, he was stung into replying, “I’ll come.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Alfred looked surprised at his agreement. It was the same look he’d given Severus when he lied about having a son. But, too late, he couldn’t take the words back.

It was just a mile down the road, Severus assured himself. They’d be back soon with one extra person. He could spend a few minutes alone with his cousin in the car. This wasn’t a big deal. At least he wouldn’t have to pretend to have another child.

ooOoo

“Severus voluntarily left with Alfred?” Jacky asked in disbelief an hour later when she came to check whether anyone wanted anything for lunch. “Our Severus? With our Alfred?”

“I take those,” Barry said with an amused smile, reaching for the tray of butties that were in danger of sliding off the platter as she stood there in shock.

“Our Severus and our Alfred,” Nana confirmed with a smile.

“Wow,” Jacky said in amazement.

“Nana didn’t even have to badger him,” Barry told her. “She just said- Severus go with Alfred, and Severus said, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wow,” Jacky repeated. “Our Severus and our Alfred – out together? I never thought I’d say this, but poor Severus.”

Barry sniggered as he took a sandwich from the tray he’d deposited on the coffee table. There were enough sandwiches to tide everyone over until the dinner was cooked. Which was coming along nicely, thanks to Harry. The wonderful aroma of sage and lemon permeated the air.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Jacky asked, taking a seat on the sofa next to her husband.

“Interrupt their bonding time?” Barry smirked.

“It’ll be good for them to spend some time together,” Nana told them.

“Hope this doesn’t backfire, Nana,” Jacky said warningly.

“Nothing else has so far,” Nana giggled, her face wrinkling in amusement as she patted her wheelchair. “But I would like to stretch my legs.”

“Want me to take you to the paddock, and you can walk around for a bit?” Barry offered.

“Oh, yes,” Nana accepted immediately.

“Hold on,” Jacky said before they could rush off. “I’ll make you both a flask of tea to take with you.”

“Lovely,” Nana smiled.

Within ten minutes, Gloria made tea (because that was another thing Jacky couldn’t make right) and watched Barry carefully wheel Nana Bea to the paddock where she could walk around without being seen by the kids.

Honestly, she was looking forward to the day when they could stop pretending Nana was in a wheelchair. She hadn’t meant for the deception to go on for this long, and she knew the kids had been shocked and worried when they’d seen Nana in the wheelchair for the first time, but the adults thought it would be too much for the children to keep secret and not let slip.

It was all done for Severus’s benefit. To give him this final chance to bring the son he claimed to have. When Severus first mentioned having a son, they were surprised but believed him without a doubt. After all, Severus had no reason to lie. However, as year after year passed, with one silly excuse after another, they began to doubt Severus had a son at all. Telling Severus Nana was seriously ill had made Jacky feel guilty as she knew Severus adored Nana Bea, but it had been an attempt to make him bring his son. Even though they half believed that Severus lied about having a child, Nana still wanted to meet the boy, so Nana’s illness had been an ultimatum of sorts.

Though Severus had written back and confirmed he would be bringing his son and accepted their offer to stay for the entire Christmas period, instead of the overnight Severus usually did, Nana and the others still believed Severus would make a last-minute excuse. At which point, Jacky had been prepared to confront Severus about his lies.

They’d all been shocked to see Severus enter the house with Harry and pleasantly surprised to discover Harry was nothing like his father, even if they still had suspicions that Severus might have brought a child actor to play the part of his son.

Conversely, what made them less suspicious was how little time Severus and Harry spent together. After all, given how much Severus emphasised Claudia keeping his son away from him, it would have been less believable if Severus and Harry walked in like best mates.

Jacky had become genuinely fond of Harry in very little time. They all had. If anything, Severus still had trouble connecting with Harry. She decided not to speculate on it further. Severus was here. Harry was here. It was close to a perfect Christmas as they would get. And bonus, they’d get a decent Christmas dinner this year.

She wasn’t as bad a cook as everyone made her out to be; they all teased her with their exaggerations. After all, she did most of the cooking between the two houses. They all survived on her food so far, hadn’t they? However, she happily admitted that she would miss Harry’s cooking after Christmas was over. She cooked to ensure they all had food to eat, but she would readily admit that she didn’t have Harry’s ability to do the ingredients justice.

She headed back to the kitchen, where Harry had the preparations well in hand and relayed the news of Severus leaving with Alfred to fetch Iain Baker. Feeling superfluous and a little tired, Jacky sat at the kitchen table at Gloria’s urging, though still helped as much as she could from her seat.

“Oh, Uncle Severus doesn’t know about Mr Baker, does he?” Andrew said with a laugh, as he washed, peeled and cut the sprouts, as per Harry’s instructions.

“Who?” Harry asked, chopping the bacon he’d be using to flavour the sprouts.  

Wary of her nephew misinforming Harry about Iain, Gloria quickly answered before Andrew could, “Iain’s a bit of a gruff. He lives about a mile down the road from us. Sam, his brother, used to live here years ago as well but moved to Scotland aeons ago. We’ve only met him a few times, but Iain used to see us quite regularly when he had his dog. His dog passed away about five years ago. Old age. Iain was devastated. He loved his dog but only spoke to his brother regularly. He and Sam have both been widowed for almost twenty years. Then, last spring, Sam found himself a new lady friend, which depressed Iain even more. He’s just – he’s sad and lonely.”

“Mr Baker’s more than just lonely,” Andrew scoffed. “He was always bitter, but after his dog, Benjy died, he was even more horrible. He hates talking to people.”

At Jacky’s admonishment, he said defensively, “What? He’s horrible. Uncle Alfred will spend hours listening to Mr Baker complain about everything under the sun, and Mr Baker’ll argue about having to leave his house and come over, and if he gets left behind, he’ll complain even more.”

“He does sound lonely,” Harry added with a thoughtful look.

Harry was astoundingly mature when it came to other people.

Andrew looked betrayed that Harry didn’t agree with him, but the younger lad didn’t notice.

“Mark my words, Harry,” Andrew insisted, “Mr Baker will be horrible throughout the whole of Christmas dinner. I wish we didn’t have to invite him.”

“Andrew,” Jacky said warningly, “I won’t have you talking like that in front of Mr Baker. No one deserves to be alone on Christmas. It’s bad enough that Iain had to wake up alone on Christmas morning, but we can include him in dinner. It’s a good deed, whether Iain appreciates it or not.”

Andrew didn’t look any happier but wisely didn’t argue further.

Jacky couldn’t blame Andrew for feeling as he did. Even before Benjy passed on, Iain had been a curmudgeon who hated kids. The kids stayed away whenever Iain came around as well, but today would be a test of patience.

“I feel sorry for Uncle Severus, being stuck with that old bast-”

“Andrew!” Jacky warned, not willing to listen to his foul language.

Harry snorted, “Actually, it sounds like he’ll get on well with S-Dad.”

Jacky noticed that sometimes Harry almost called his father by his first name but put it down to their palpable lack of familiarity. Even Severus seemed to trip over calling Harry with the same casualness.

“Really?” Gloria asked, surprised.

Jacky found herself leaning forward, listening with fascination. They’d never heard Severus ever complain about anything before, though that was more due to Severus barely spending any time with them. Apart from complaining about his ex, Severus rarely said anything before. The first time Jacky heard a personal complaint was a few days back when he’d joined the children in disparaging her cooking. Jacky had been surprised (and amused) to hear the complaint, minor though it was.

“Dad complains about all sorts,” Harry said with a careless shrug. “Students, classes, the economy, the weather, the price of stuff. Fashion. I hear a lot of that at school.”

Jacky bit her lip to stop herself from giggling.

Maya, on the other hand, frowned. She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to shut it straight away.

Noticing this, she leaned toward her daughter, “Maya, love, will you help me with something in the other room?”

Maya almost opened her mouth to argue but, after a glance in Harry’s direction, gave an unhappy nod and followed her out. Andrew and Harry were busy finishing the sprouts, but Gloria gave her a questioning look.

Jacky led them to Nana’s room for privacy and gratefully sat down on Nana’s bed, patting the seat next to her for Maya to join.

“What is it, love?” Jacky asked with concern. “What did you want to talk about?”

Maya fidgeted beside her, her behaviour not easing her mother’s growing concern.

“Maya?” Jacky frowned.

“Idon’tthinkHarryshouldgobackhome,” Maya said so quickly that Jacky had to make her repeat herself.

“Why not?”

Maya burst into tears and threw herself at her mother. Automatically putting her arms around her daughter, Jacky asked gravely, “Tell me everything you know.”

Jacky listened with rising anger about the marks her daughter had seen on Harry’s back.

Chapter 8 – Out of Step

“Should we speak to him?” Gloria asked, not doubting Jacky when she relayed the information from Maya back to her sister-in-law, having fetched her from the kitchen with a feeble excuse.

“I don’t know,” she said in frustration.

Her children were mischievous, that was certain. But they’d seen the scars on Jacky and Alfred’s bodies to know that abuse was never something to joke about or falsely accuse anyone of.

Gloria had come from a loving background herself, with parents who doted on her. However, despite working in the Cancer ward, she had seen her fair share of abuse victims, from child abuse to spouse abuse and elderly abuse. Suffering from cancer didn’t necessarily mean that her patients didn’t also suffer at the hands of those who were meant to love them.

Also, given that their fathers were both Vets, they had unfortunately seen their share of abused animal cases.

“Where’s Maya now?” Gloria questioned, playing with her wedding ring.

“I sent her to wash her face before going back in the kitchen,” Jacky said grimly. Maya was so upset, holding back her words for several hours, watching Harry carefully. Jacky wished she’d let Maya drag her off earlier. Her daughter was a tough little girl, but sensitive to people she cared about being hurt.

“Do you think it was Severus?” Gloria asked seriously.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her hands protective of her unborn baby. “Do you?”

“We can’t rule it out,” Gloria sighed. “And Harry doesn’t know us well enough to trust us with this.”

“We should have seen this,” Jacky said frustratedly.

“Everyone hides their hurts in different ways,” her sister-in-law said soothingly. “Harry presents himself as a happy child. He gets on easily with the others, he laughs, he jokes. He’s mature for his age. We’re not mind-readers, and Harry might be family, but like I said earlier, he wouldn’t trust this to virtual strangers after a few days worth of acquaintance.”

Jacky nodded reluctantly. Gloria made sense, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

“God help Severus if he’s the one hurting Harry,” Jacky vowed.

Gloria nodded in agreement.

“Should we speak to the others?”

Jacky thought hard about involving Nana and the others. Like Jacky, Alfred had quickly become fond of Harry. Despite his affable nature, Alfred wouldn’t think twice about accusing Severus of hurting Harry, given his apparent feelings for Severus.

ooOoo

Severus had a massive headache, courtesy of Iain Baker. The man wouldn’t shut up complaining. Good grief, the man could put Argus Filch to shame.

When he’d agreed to accompany Alfred (and Beth) down the road, he’d expected to be back within fifteen minutes. Half an hour, tops. Instead, he was coming back three hours later.

Nana and Bartholomew were in the Sitting room with Brian, Alexandra and Laurel, stroking their elderly rabbit, Marley, in front of the fire. Instead of admonishing them, Alfred gave them a look between amused and rueful. Despite half-hearted protests every year, the man was a soft touch and allowed the girls to sneak in their pet.

“Oh, hello,” Gloria greeted them, coming over to hug her husband. “We thought we heard the front door. You’re back earlier than expected.”

“Earlier than expected?” Severus repeated incredulously. “We were gone hours.”

“I stand by my words,” Gloria said with a shrug.

Severus frowned. Perhaps it was his imagination, but there seemed to be a chill to the woman’s words.

“Severus might have expedited the whole situation,” Alfred said with more amusement than warranted.

“Where’s Iain?” Gloria asked, looking around.

“He’s gone to use the bathroom.”

Gloria nodded and told them, “The turkey only came out a few minutes ago. It’ll be resting for another hour or so.”

“Smells beautiful,” Alfred said, sniffing the air.

“I tried to sneak in there for a taste,” Bartholomew said, “but my own children kicked me out.”

“We’re lucky Andrew allowed us to stay,” Gloria added with a faint smile, presumably referring to herself and Jacqueline.

“Andrew wouldn’t even let me in,” Brian said indignantly.

Alfred laughed, “Was that so you wouldn’t sneak any food, or is he taking after his aunt and doesn’t want anyone to mess up the kitchen?”

Brian grimaced, “Both, probably. Sandwiches are nice, but I’m starving and can’t wait to see what Andrew’s done with the turkey.”

“I wouldn’t mind a cuppa,” Alfred said, looking imploringly at his wife. “Severus?”

Severus nodded agreeably.

“Will you bring one out for Iain as well?”

“Bring one what?” Baker asked in a gruff voice, limping in as he leaned heavily on his cane. Severus had been tempted several times to kick the thing from under the curmudgeon.

“Tea, Iain?” Gloria asked, more pleasantly than the cantankerous old man warranted.

“Swill,” the old man grumbled. “Better add more sugar to disguise the taste.”

“That’s a yes, then,” Gloria concluded dryly.

“I’ll help you,” Alfred offered, following Gloria to the kitchen.

Before Severus could link off to his attic room to gather his wits and remaining patience, Nana patted the seat next to her.

“Come on, Severus,” she beckoned. “Here, you must be hungry. Have a sandwich.”

Reluctantly, he sat down even though all he wanted to do was retreat from Iain Baker.

“Yes, Nana,” he said.

“Yes, Nana,” Baker mocked, taking the lonely one-seater. He glared at the children, who shuffled away from the cane the man was carelessly tapping about.

“Hush, you,” Nana glared. “You’re a guest, Iain Baker. Behave.”

Baker glared at the woman in the wheelchair, eying it with vicious amusement.

“I heard you were on wheels,” he scoffed. “Doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with you. I just think you’re getting lazy.”

Brian, looking ready to defend his great-grandmother, reluctantly subsided at his father’s look of warning.

At times like this, he wished he didn’t have to be an adult.

ooOoo

“We didn’t expect you back for at least another two hours,” was how his sister greeted him when he entered the kitchen behind Gloria.

“You have Severus to thank for that,” Alfred commented with amusement.

The short drive to Iain’s house had been awkward despite Beth’s presence as a buffer. Severus, as usual, barely spoke two words.

He’d spent the first ten minutes upon entering Iain’s home hovering by the door, expecting the man to be ready.

They had found Iain still in his pyjamas, if they could be called that, sitting in his battered armchair. Alfred had expected that, having known Iain for almost twenty years. Severus, on the other hand, was surprised.

Iain’s house was bereft of all but the necessary furniture. He never entertained, so he didn’t have more than two armchairs. The other had been used by his late wife before her passing and then by Sam on the occasions the man travelled from Scotland.

Iain had been his usually crotchety self, dilly-dallying for the first half an hour before Severus lost patience and snapped at the man to get changed if he wanted to eat for Christmas. Had Alfred been alone, he would let Iain have his way and take his time, being used to the pensioner’s attitude. However, out of pity for Severus, who walked into an unexpected situation, and for Beth, who regretted volunteering to join her father, Alfred allowed Severus to take charge.

“Severus’s presence came in handy,” Alfred told them, reaching for the tea bag and sugar canisters.

“Pity, we wouldn’t have minded if you took longer bringing that old man back,” Andrew grumbled.

“Do you mean Iain or Severus?” Alfred teased.

“You could have dropped Uncle Severus off there,” Andrew suggested not-so-innocently. “We could have delivered Christmas dinner to them.”

Alfred shook his head but didn’t admonish his nephew.

He turned to look at Gloria and Jacky, who were exchanging looks between them.

“Everything all right?” he asked in a mild voice.

They smoothed their expressions and didn’t answer immediately.

“Just hungry,” Jacky muttered, stepping to the fridge for the milk.

Gloria shuffled around him to reach for the mugs as he went to the cupboard nearest the sink for a tray for the mugs.

“How’s it going in here?” Alfred asked, wondering at the strange behaviour.

Making an effort to brighten up, Gloria answered, “It’s all in hand. The turkey’s resting. The mash is done. The veggies are in the oven. Harry is reducing the gravy. Andrew’s making the cinnamon filling for the cinnamon rolls.”

Alfred felt his mouth fill with saliva.

“Cinnamon rolls? Really?” he said hopefully.

“Harry mixed the dough a few hours ago,” Jacky informed him. “It’s been lovely and toasty in here, so it’s risen nicely. Harry’s showing Maya how to make the frosting. He’ll be putting them in the oven soon. He’s got this timed down to the second. He’ll pull them out before we serve dinner, and by the time we finish eating, they’ll be cool enough to add the frosting.”

“Alfred, darling, you’re drooling,” Gloria laughed lightly.

“Can we adopt Harry?” Alfred joked.

“Yes, absolutely,” Jacky said instantly, her tone much less jocular than Alfred’s.

His wife and his wife exchanged another awkward look. He looked towards the kids, ensuring their attention was on their tasks.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jacky said, much too fast.

More calmly, Gloria said, “Let’s not spoil dinner. It can keep until after.”

Alfred wanted to push the issue, but subsided at his wife’s warning glance.

“After,” he said firmly, hoping all was well but suspecting it wasn’t.

Laurel came barging in and moaned, “Is the food ready yet?”

“Almost, love,” Gloria said.

“Why can’t we have the pigs in blankets?” his daughter begged.

Allowing himself to be distracted, for now, Alfred asked, “We have pigs in blankets?”

Jacky rolled her eyes at his childishness.

“You’re having sandwiches,” she ordered, adding the sugar pot and teaspoons to the tray. “Now, take your tea and leave.”

“Isn’t this my house?” Alfred grumbled but complied without further teasing.

“Please tell me you’re taking Mr Baker back straight after dinner,” Laurel begged, already tired of their neighbour, not that Alfred could blame his daughter.

“Just be patient, darling,” he said assuringly, carefully balancing the tea tray. “He has no one else.”

Laurel grumbled but didn’t argue further though Alfred could tell she wasn’t happy. Though he could usually put up with Iain with no real offence, he decided if the old man said anything out of line today, he wouldn’t hesitate to take him back home. Neither his kids nor Jacky’s were disrespectful, as a rule, but they were very protective of each other. Though they knew what Iain was like, Alfred couldn’t blame them if they decided to mouth off if Iain said anything that would upset the little ones.

Despite the roaring fire, the atmosphere was decidedly chilly when Alfred re-entered the Sitting room. He looked to Barry, who shook his head in a Don’t Ask motion.

“Dinner won’t be long,” Alfred announced as he handed everyone their tea.

Iain huffed as he took his tea, glaring at Severus.

Severus took his cup with a muttered thanks, looking longingly at the stairs visible from his seat. Alfred was reminded of the children who looked desperate to escape.

“Where’s your brother?” Iain asked Brian. “Aren’t you two usually together?”

“He’s in the kitchen helping with Christmas dinner,” Brian answered without looking at the pensioner, sitting protectively near Lexi and Marley.

Iain looked incredulously between Alfred and Barry.

“What the heck is he doing in the kitchen?”

“Helping with Christmas dinner,” Severus repeated scathingly. “The boy’s just said. Are you hard of hearing?”

Iain blustered, unused to being answered back.

Alfred saw Brian duck his head to hide his amusement. They all knew Severus was just as brusque as Iain in his own way, but never spoke to the children like their neighbour did.

Barry hid his smile behind his mug.

“The boy shouldn’t be in the kitchen. The girls, on the other hand – the kitchen – that’s their place. Your girl – what’s her name – Maya,” he said, waving his mug in Barry’s direction. “I’ve seen her carousing with boys, climbing trees, and whatnot – pretending she’s equal to boys. She’ll come home crying with broken boys because she’s doing something she’s not, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. You want to teach her to dress pretty and cook a good meal. Where is she anyway? Roughhousing outside?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Barry replied mildly, having heard the same rant several times and ignoring it as usual. “And there’s no harm in Maya climbing trees. She can do anything she wants to.”

Iain harrumphed, not looking pleased with not being agreed with.

“Still, your boy shouldn’t be in the kitchen. I thought he liked playing football. Now that’s a man’s sport.”

 “If a boy likes being in the kitchen, there’s nothing wrong with him developing his skills,” Severus defended.

Alfred imagined Severus was defending his son as well as Andrew. Certainly, Harry was the most skilled thirteen-year-old he’d ever seen when it came to cooking. Alfred and Jacky never cared to instill their children in what society considered traditional gender roles. Maya was football mad, just like her brothers, having grown up watching them play, and the boys never shunned her from playing just because she was a girl.

And, though none of Alfred’s girls was sports-mad like Jacky’s children, they also didn’t care about dressing pretty or learning to cook. Sarah was dedicated to her education, and the other three were too young to set themselves on any particular ambition. Alfred and Gloria would happily support whatever they wanted to do in life.

Iain was from an older, more narrow-minded generation where girls did girl things, and boys did boy things. It was not the type of thinking Alfred and Barry agreed with, but Iain was too set in his ways to change now.

Iain scoffed, “Should have known you would be the namby-pamby type. When’s the last time you cut your hair?”

Severus ignored Iain, in favour of drinking his tea.

“Let’s not spend today arguing,” Nana said firmly, though Alfred doubted Iain would listen.

Nana had been friends with Iain’s wife before her passing and always told them that Iain had been a different man back then, even if he held the same prejudices. She was much better at reigning the man in, and like Severus, took no guff from him.

“I suppose I should save my energy for chewing on that rubbery turkey,” Iain derided. “Hope Jacky’s made enough cranberry sauce to go around. It’ll be the only edible thing we’ll get today – no matter how good it smells right now.”

Unfortunately, no one could defend Jacky’s cooking – though no one disabused Iain of the change on cooks today. Let the man be surprised about an edible Christmas dinner – he’d got enough leftovers over the years that he should be grateful this year.

It didn’t occur to Alfred to doubt that the Christmas dinner wouldn’t be good, not given how well Harry cooked other meals over the last few days. And even if Harry’s turkey didn’t taste as good as it smelled, it couldn’t possibly be worse than Jacky’s and Gloria’s usual attempts.

To distract Iain, and everyone else, Nana suggested channel surfing to find a new Christmas film they could watch. At Nana’s warning glare, Iain subsided when he tried to argue about watching the news instead.

The next hour passed relatively peacefully unless one counted Iain getting up and loudly announcing his need to empty his bladder every ten minutes. No one could really enjoy watching the film. Therefore, they were all grateful when Gloria came to announce that dinner would be served in ten minutes and asked for help setting the table.

Alfred never saw the children volunteer for anything so speedily before. Gloria wheeled Nana away to help her wash up, having to keep up the pretence of it for a little longer. Severus disappeared upstairs to wash up as the children trotted into the kitchen to wash their hands and set up the dining table.

Alfred instructed the children to drop the plates and cutlery onto the dining table while he and Barry did the placements. Nana, upon her return, folded the napkins for each plate and, helped by an enthusiastic Lexi, handed out Christmas crackers to be added around the table.

Brian seemed to do most of the carrying to and fro from the kitchen, the others hiding for as long as they could. Iain simply got up from the Sitting room and plonked himself into a seat in the middle of the dining table. There would certainly be no fights over who got to sit next to Iain. He just knew he and Barry would end up sitting on each side of Iain, and the seats across from the man would be the last to be filled as well, as no one would want to look up from their dinner and have to stare at the grumpy old fart.

Nana took her usual seat at the head of the table, as it was easiest for her with her wheelchair.

“Go, sit,” they heard Gloria shooing someone, who turned out to be Jacky, looking fatigued after a long day on her feet.

“Come on, love,” Barry beckoned, drawing a chair for her. “Take the weight off your feet.”

“Thanks,” Jacky accepted gratefully, rubbing her calves. Barry planted a kiss on her head. No one missed Iain rolling his eyes at the display.

“How you doing, old codger?” Jacky greeted, catching Iain’s eye.

“Is that how you greet your guests?” Iain gruffed. “I’ve been here almost two hours, and you can’t come out of the kitchen to say hello?”

“I’ve been in the kitchen with dinner, Iain. You’ve got legs. What’s stopping you from coming to the kitchen and greeting us?”

Severus smirked as he entered, having heard Jacky’s words, happy that someone else spoke back to the old man.

“Alfred, Barry,” Gloria said as she stuck her head through the kitchen door, “can you come help carry the food.”

Alfred and Barry left Nana and Jacky to coordinate setting up the rest of the table and headed into the kitchen to do as Gloria instructed. Though the scent of the cooked food wafted through the kitchen door every time it opened and closed, the fresh aroma of Christmas dinner was even more pronounced. He’d noticed before, but now that the turkey had time to rest and he was more than ready to eat, the kitchen smelled heavenly.

“Wahey,” Barry cheered as his eyes landed on the two beautiful, perfectly-cooked, golden brown turkeys.

Because they were a large family, they usually made two turkeys so Jacky could take one home and use the rest to live on sandwiches for several – well, let’s just say it felt like months.

“If these taste as good as they look, Harry,” Barry said with a beaming smile, “I’ll work mighty hard to finish a whole turkey to myself.”

“Hey,” Andrew complained, “I helped make that, too.”

“Son, if it wasn’t for Harry, you’d have been out there watching Christmas films with us,” Barry said dryly, reaching for the first turkey.

“I still worked hard,” Andrew grumbled.

“And you’ve done a good job,” Barry acknowledged sincerely, bringing a broad smile to his son’s face.

Maya cleared her throat pointedly.

“All of you have,” Barry corrected.

Harry gave a small smile, looking pleased with the compliments as well.

“Now, let’s put all this food out on the table,” Gloria instructed, “or everyone will stampede in here.”

“Or we could barricade the door and help ourselves,” Barry joked.

“I dare you to say that to Mum,” Maya challenged.

“Let’s get this out there,” Barry reneged hastily, lifting the turkey carefully.

“Are we taking both out at once?” Alfred asked, going to reach for the other.

“Yeah,” Gloria said with a nod, “we’ll set one at either end like we usually do.”

Within minutes, the dining table was groaning with food like never before. Maya insisted Harry sit next to her, and Lexi was on his other side. Severus, as always, monopolised the seat next to Nana.

“Who are you?” Iain demanded, looking at Harry with a frown.

“This is Harry – he’s Severus’s boy,” Nana informed him.

“Ah – the ones whose mother’s a bitch,” Iain said knowingly.

Everyone froze.

Severus looked furiously at all of them. Alfred shook his head, wanting to bury his face somewhere. Severus had every right to be angry. However, it was Harry he was most concerned about. Whatever was going on between Severus and his ex – Harry was already in the middle of because he was their child – but that didn’t mean Claudia didn’t care about her son.

“My mum’s not a – she’s not that,” Harry fumed, and Alfred couldn’t well blame. “You take that back!”

Iain looked like he was going to be stubborn about this.

“Iain, whatever you’ve heard about Harry’s mother is hearsay,” Nana said in even tones, though her disappointment was clear to them. “Furthermore, you’re here as our guest, invited as part of our goodwill and have no right to comment on family matters. You apologise to Harry and Severus about that crass comment right now, as well as your language, or you can march back home in the snow without your Christmas dinner.”

There was a silence before Iain gruffly said, “I apologise, lad.”

“Severus?” Nana prompted.

“Forgiven,” Severus replied stiffly, though the look he pinned Alfred with made him aware that the discussion was far from over.

“Harry,” Nana urged, much more gently.

Harry stared at Iain for a little longer but subsided after Maya put her hand on his wrist. He nodded, looking away from Iain, staring down at his plate.

“Turkey looks a little overdone, doesn’t it?” Iain started complaining straight away, though his words lacked the earlier heat.

“Then feel free not to add any to your plate, Iain,” Jacky said archly, no doubt feeling guilty about contributing to the current atmosphere. Though none of them had a high opinion of Claudia, Jacky was the most vocal about calling her names to the others.

“Shall we start?” Alfred said.

“Let’s,” Nana announced with a smile. “The turkey smelled wonderful.”

“Forget the turkey,” Brian said, his cheer forced. “I want those pigs in a blanket.”

Equally strained, Sarah answered, “Don’t eat them all by yourself – I want some too.”

Bless the children for trying to get that easy atmosphere back.

“Don’t carve them both,” Gloria said, even though they start with one every year.

Despite their complaining about Jacky’s dry turkey, they do try to eat a fair lot in one sitting – at least to minimise the amount of leftovers.

The conversation revolved around passing the food to each other in the most subdued atmosphere Alfred had ever experienced with his family.

Alfred blamed himself for not warning of Harry’s presence. It was not because Harry was easily forgotten, but more that they were so comfortable with Harry that mentioning he was visiting wasn’t necessary. They’d all come to think well of Harry in the short time they knew him.

However, where the others might be able to brush off Iain’s harsh words, being well used to it, Harry was new to Iain’s attitude, and his disquiet affected all the occupants of the table in one way or another.

“Oh,” Brian groaned, “Oh my god – this turkey is amazing.”

He made to shovel more in his mouth, but Jacky admonished him, “Eat in a civilised manner, please. Don’t scoff it like an animal.”

Brian slowed down, barely.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed sprouts,” Gloria moaned, chewing with great enjoyment.

“Nah,” Sarah said. “No offence, Harry. You’re amazing in the kitchen, but even you’ve not got enough magic to make sprouts taste good.”

Harry gave a polite smile, not really responding to the banter as he usually would. Harry was mature for a boy his age, and though quietest of all the children, spent most of the meal looking down at his plate, more silent than usual.

It saddened Alfred to see the boy so subdued. Everyone seemed to pick up on it and made an effort to include the boy in conversation. Though he remained courteous, it only made the boy seem more withdrawn. If Alfred didn’t see Iain look at the boy with a little bit of shame and regret, he would have been tempted to throw the old man out for ruining what should have otherwise been a friendly, family meal full of laughter. At least Iain seemed to have regretted the effect of his words. It was not something that happened often.

If anything, the only one not concerned about Harry’s troubled demeanour was Severus, who didn’t seem to even care his son was upset.

It was the best Christmas dinner they’d had since Nana stopped cooking due to her age, and the bones of one turkey carcass were gnawed clean, and they’d even gotten started on the second. This time they’d be fighting over the leftovers and regret that they didn’t last longer.

“Oh, I could just drink that gravy by itself,” Barry sighed, looking at it longingly. “It was beautiful.”

“We still have cinnamon buns and sherry trifle to get through,” Jacky reminded them, sitting back from the table in satisfaction, cradling her belly. Alfred thought she was cradling her food baby rather than her unborn child.

“I’m stuffed,” Nana announced, “but there’s always room for dessert.”

“Well, it’s a medical fact; there’s a separate stomach for dessert,” Gloria said impishly. “Trust me, I’m a nurse.”

“Is there any way we can make dessert walk over to us?” Sarah groaned.

“Or have the dishes appear in the sink and wash themselves,” Gloria lamented.

“Well, anyone who wasn’t in the kitchen cooking is on dishwashing duty,” Jacky said firmly.

Brian groaned, “I hate washing dishes.”

“I’m glad I helped with cranberry sauce,” Sarah said in relief. Then, more worriedly added, “That counts, right?”

Gloria reached over to pat her daughter’s hand assuringly, “It does, love.”

“Do we have to move right now?” Alfred asked, feeling ready to fall into a food coma.

“Best get started,” Barry advised, but no one moved a muscle.

“I’ll help,” Harry announced into the silence and got up to begin stacking the plates of everyone in reach.

“Sit down, Harry,” Gloria said lazily. “The lads will take care of it.”

However, Harry continued to stack the plates, ignoring Gloria’s words with an almost dismissive, “It’s fine. May as well get started.”

“Harry,” Andrew protested, then looked at the adults helplessly.

“Harry’s right,” Alfred said with false brightness. “The dishes aren’t going to do themselves. And we’ll take dessert in the Sitting room in front of the fire and the tree.”

He forced himself to move.

Harry silently took his stack of plates to the kitchen without looking at anyone.

Alfred had to be quite forceful in sending Harry from the kitchen, “It’s okay, Harry. You helped with the cooking. It’s a rule here, remember? Whoever cooked doesn’t have to wash up. You go put your feet up.”

Harry nodded without looking at any of them and slinked off towards the den instead of the Sitting room.

“I hadn’t meant to upset the lad,” Iain said gruffly, though Alfred detected his regret.

Unwilling to let him off the hook, Jacky piped up, “You walk around riling people up, Iain. We might be used to you, but you had no right to comment on Harry’s mother.”

“And you should have been careful about describing her to outsiders,” Severus snapped back, having entered the kitchen with his own stack of dirty plates. “Everything I told you about Claudia was in confidence. Not for you to flaunt to all and sundry.”

Jacky couldn’t deny this accusation and looked away shamefaced.

“We’re very sorry about that, Severus,” Alfred intervened, hoping to calm matters. Alfred and Jacky couldn’t deny they’d been indiscreet about Severus’s private life, and their cousin had every right to be angry. However, he was more concerned about Harry, who shouldn’t hear language like that about his mother, who he clearly adored, regardless of her issues with Severus. “But we can talk about this later. Harry was upset. Maybe you should go see if he’s all right. He barely ate.”

“The boy’ll be fine,” Severus said dismissively. “It’s just one meal. He’ll get over it.”

Alfred and Jacky exchanged incredulous looks. Iain looked confused but stayed out of the conversation by leaving the kitchen. Iain Baker was a lot of things, but mercifully, being a busybody wasn’t one of those.

“Harry needs you,” Alfred said more forcefully. “Couldn’t you see how upset he was?”

“The boy will get over it,” Severus said stiffly.

“His name is Harry,” Jacky interjected before Alfred could rebuke his cousin for this same thing. “Considering he’s your son, you’d think you’d use his name a little more.”

Severus flushed at the reminder.

“You need not worry about Harry,” Severus said with maddening emphasis. “Harry is throwing a meaningless strop and trying to keep everyone’s attention on himself. The more you indulge him, the bigger his ego gets.”

“If that’s what you think, Severus,” Alfred said evenly, “then you don’t know your son at all. And what’s more, I’m beginning to believe Claudia did right by keeping you away from Harry if this is the kind of father you’ve turned out to be.”

Severus flinched at his words but furiously seemed to set to argue right back. Whatever Severus intended to say next was interrupted by a shriek of “No!” followed by a dull thud.

Argument forgotten, they exchange alarmed looks before rushing towards the source of the noise. It came from the den.

Severus was first out of the door with Alfred and Jacky on his heels. Barry and the others were closer as they were still in the Dining room, but Severus pushed his way through them all.

“What happened?” Severus demanded as he entered the den first.

Alfred was allowed through next as Barry urged the children through to the Sitting room, picking up Lexi, who looked upset and confused at the current happenings.

“I don – Mr Baker came to – he apologised,” Harry answered shakily.

Alfred took in the situation as he entered behind Severus. Harry was protectively coddling Maya, while alternating his bewildered gaze from her to Iain, who was lying on the floor, looking dazed as he struggled to get up.

“Iain,” Alfred gasped as he rushed to the old man’s side. He helped Iain to a sitting position, pulling his hand away from his head. He had a small lump, though thankfully, no broken skin. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you up. Did you trip?”

“Must have done,” Iain groaned, holding his head.

Alfred took in the state of the den. Iain seemed to have collided with the bookshelf when he tripped.

Severus, meanwhile, continued to glare at Harry as if the boy was somehow at fault.

Gloria stepped forward, gently taking Iain’s other arm and leading him away to take a look at him.

“I need to speak to Harry,” Severus said, crossing his arms imperiously across his chest.

Seeing Maya wouldn’t leave Harry’s side, continuing to cling to him, Jacky said, “Maybe later.”

“You were the one who insisted I speak to my son,” Severus pointed out.

Stubbornly, Jacky came to stand between the children and Severus. Alfred recognised this move from their childhood when he and Jacky would protect each other from their father after a particularly brutal beating. Trusting his sister, who he’d gone through hell with, over an absent cousin, Alfred stood by her side.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Jacky said defiantly.

“Hurt him?” Severus repeated with confusion. Then, glaring over their shoulder at Harry once more, he snarls, “What have you been telling them?”

The words, the tone – they were familiar once again. It was something their father, Zachary, used to yell at them behind closed doors if he suspected they told someone about their abuse.

Having had enough, Alfred stepped towards Severus and physically pushed him toward the door.

“He’s not hurt me,” Harry denied from behind them, but Alfred was not listening – having issued such denials himself.

Alfred had to manhandle Severus out of the den and into the Sitting room, quite intent on kicking his cousin out, no matter that it was Christmas Day, no matter if Nana protested. He would protect his family, whatever it took and right now that included Harry.

Before he could say anything to lay into Severus, they were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

Everyone froze, looking at each other in varying expressions of confusion. Who would be visiting them on Christmas Day?

ooOoo

Forcefully releasing Alfred’s fist from his shirt, Severus took a step back, along with a deep breath. He was well past the stage of endurance. He was more than ready to leave.

Now there was a knock on the door, probably from the Ministry because Potter used underage magic in a muggle house, nevermind that the boy had a special dispensation because of Black and had been using his wand all week to clean up because he was too lazy to clean the muggle way.

And now he’d turned on his crocodile tears and probably made his family believe he was being beaten or something equally ridiculous.

All he needed was a few minutes alone with Potter to determine what absurd tales he’d been telling his muggle family and get a handle on everything. Perhaps he could use their indiscretion at telling Baker about his fictional ex as a reason to leave.

With a last glare at him, Alfred headed towards the front door to check on their unexpected visitor. Severus arranged his expression to something neutral. Really, now that he’s thinking about it, he shouldn’t have argued with Alfred and Jacky about checking up on Potter. He should have gone to Potter when they’d mentioned the boy was upset, and he could have used that as an excuse to leave Marple behind. Perhaps there’s still time for that, he thought furiously to himself.

Once Alfred returned from telling his unexpected caller to get lost, he could try to iron out the misunderstandings, get Potter to pack his belongings while Severus packed his suitcase in the attic, and they would leave.

What with it being Christmas Day today and Boxing Day tomorrow, there’d be no trains on – which is how his family believed he and Potter arrived. They might have to wait until after Boxing Day. Usually, he’d book a taxi to pick him up from Alfred’s home on Christmas Day – plenty of people didn’t celebrate the holiday and used the day to make extra cash. He didn’t even mind the long drive from Marple to Liverpool, as the roads were quiet; it didn’t even take that long. However, he’d not done that this year, expecting to be here until after New Year’s Day.

“Who do you think it is?” Sarah asked, looking around the room as they strained to hear what Alfred was saying to the person at the door.

Severus tried to listen, but all he could discern was that it was a female voice.

“I don’t know,” Gloria answered with a puzzled look. She’d finished tending to Baker’s head. He had a small bruise, but he looked all right, considering. The man didn’t know how lucky he was that he wasn’t inflated like a balloon and floating off into the ether.

Whoever was at the door was probably from the Ministry, come to fix whatever damage they thought Potter had done, perhaps even to erase some memories. Poor Alfred was probably confused. He should go take control of the situation and smooth things over. Let the Ministry know that there was already a competent wizard in the house.

However, before he could take a step, Nana wheeled her chair forward and levelled him with a look, “Sit down, Severus. Everyone, take a seat. Maya, Harry – come sit near me. I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to sort this out like calm people.”

Severus scowled but acquiesced, sitting on the sofa next to Baker to his consternation

Potter and Maya, who refused to let go of the boy’s arm for some bizarre reason, that Severus could even the boy was bewildered by.

“Perhaps Severus could shed some light on this,” they heard Alfred say. “Why don’t you come in?”

They heard the front door close, and the chill Severus hadn’t paid attention to receded slightly. The fire would take a while to warm up the room again, but it wasn’t unbearable.

“Everyone,” Alfred said, getting everyone’s attention, “this is Claudia. And her husband, Luke.”

“Hello, Severus,” she greeted him with a smile. “I apologise for dropping by on your family gathering unannounced. I simply missed Harry. So much.”

Severus stood up again, shocked, as Alfred walked back into the Sitting room with the last people he’d expected to see.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Chapter 9 – Think on Your Feet

Harry didn’t know how the evening had descended into chaos. It had been a fun day. He’d come to the Snapes for Christmas to avoid returning to the Dursleys so he wouldn’t be their slave ad have a miserable Christmas and then have a miserable school year upon his return.

He’d not expected to enjoy himself at the Snapes, given the Potions Master’s attitude towards him during the school year. However, he had. He loved Snape’s family and wished they were his.

Despite what Snape thought, he didn’t have a big head, but truthfully, he did do the bulk of the work in the kitchen today. But unlike with the Dursleys, everyone in the kitchen had pitched in. Petunia would have been in the kitchen, shrieking orders in her shrill voice and doing the minimum, while Vernon and Dudley complained from the front room about how hungry they were, despite eating the massive breakfast Harry would have made them.

Then their guest, Iain Baker, had said what he did about Harry’s mum. Now, logically Harry knew he was talking about the fake mum who broke Snape’s cold heart, but he couldn’t help but think of Marge and her horrible comments about Harry’s real mum.

Though, Nana had stood up for Harry, it reminded him that this was a world of make-believe. This wasn’t Harry’s family, and Snape wouldn’t bring him back no matter what he wished. It was obvious Snape didn’t like Harry here. So, he withdrew into himself and let their chatter flow around him, forcing himself not to get lulled into it again.

He’d come to the den to remind himself it was all temporary and wished desperately for Hedwig, his one true friend who always kept him company when he was with the Dursleys during the summer. Instead, Maya had followed him, as she had been doing all day since he’d given her the boxing gloves. Then Iain Baker had come down as Harry tried to persuade Maya to give him some time.

Yet, Maya wouldn’t let the older man near Harry, stood protectively in front of him, reminding him of his friends. It confused him and delighted him in the same instance, but he’d still tried to move her away.

“I didn’t mean what I’d said, boy,” Mr Baker had said, looking contrite. Harry had been more than willing to accept the apology. He’d never see the man again after today, nor see any of Snape’s family again after the holidays.

However, Maya still became more agitated whenever Mr Baker tried to step closer – it was just to shake Harry’s hand, but Maya had been adamant Mr Baker stay away. Seeing her alarm, Mr Baker looked as confused as Harry and tried to back away.

Everything just went downhill from there.

Maya refused to let go of Harry. Mr Baker was on the floor, looking dazed. Snape came running in with Alfred and Jacky and tried to blame Harry for – well, everything. But that wasn’t new to Harry.

Then, in an even more bizarre twist, Alfred and Jacky stood between Harry and Snape. To protect Harry.

It confused Harry to no end.

But hold on – because the surprises weren’t over yet.

Not when Alfred returned from answering the front door, with guests in tow, whom Harry recognised immediately – Malfoy’s parents!

“Everyone,” Alfred said, getting everyone’s attention, “this is Claudia. And her husband, Luke.”

So he was somewhat confused when Narcissa Malfoy opened her mouth and said,

“Hello, Severus. I apologise for dropping by on your family gathering unannounced. I simply missed Harry. So much.”

Harry, despite what Snape thought of him, wasn’t all that slow on the uptake. For some reason, the Malfoys were here pretending to be – well, Narcissa was pretending to be Claudia, Snape’s ex and Harry’s mother. But that must mean that Lucius was pretending to be Harry’s stepfather?

Where the heck was Malfoy? He looked around the room, taking in everyone’s expressions. Snape was frozen in shock. The children were confused as heck. The adults exchanged glances, trying to figure out what was happening, and Nana looked between Harry and Narcissa with a frown.

“Harry, darling, aren’t you going to come up and hug your mother? It’s Christmas,” Narcissa beckoned with a smile that looked so genuine that Harry was almost taken in by it.

“Mum?” Harry said hesitantly, standing up uncertainly, but Maya kept a hold of him still.

Harry looked between Snape and the Malfoys indecisively. Snape never gave him a clear direction with his family, only told him to be on his best behaviour. Harry had taken that and run with it and inveigled himself into everyone’s good graces and enjoyed being there. Snape was the one who couldn’t get his act together and behave like a father, but Narcissa Malfoy had come in and turned everything upside down in seconds. There’s been no script for Harry to begin with, and Narcissa had come to steal the show.

When Snape failed to give him any direction again, Harry made to move towards Narcissa, but was stopped by Maya’s hand.

“Let him go, honey,” Jacky said, coming to stand beside her daughter.

Maya reluctantly let go of Harry’s arm and Harry, self-consciously walked to Narcissa, who was holding her arms out for a hug. It felt decidedly unnatural to have Draco Malfoy’s mother hugging him, and even more so when Draco Malfoy’s father gave him a patently paternal smile. He felt something, a piece of paper, being slipped into his hand.

Nana gave him a questioning look, to which he could only shrug helplessly in reply.

“Well, it looks like your father is going to be rude and not introduce us to his family,” Narcissa said, pulling away from Harry. “Harry, will you do the honours?”

“Er, yeah. Mum, this is Uncle Alfred, he’s – he’s dad’s cousin. That’s his wife, Gloria,” Harry stiltedly introduced everyone, each person nodding or waving confusedly, before ending with, “and that’s Lexi, holding on to her rabbit, Marley.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you all,” Narcissa said with the same pleased smile she’d sported when she stepped into the house. “I’m sure we all agree that this meeting is long overdue.”

“Long overdue,” Nana Bea agreed dryly. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’m sure you’ve had a long journey from…”

“Wiltshire,” Lucius answered smoothly. “And thank you.”

“That’s a little over a four-hour drive,” Gloria pointed out.

“More than worth seeing my son for,” Narcissa said, following Lucius to the sofa where Barry and Gloria moved from to let the guests sit.

Harry perched awkwardly on the armrest next to Narcissa.

Severus was still in shock, following the movements of the Malfoys like an automaton.

“Sit down, Severus,” Nana suggested, wheeling her chair forward. Snape automatically did as he was told.

An awkward atmosphere descended on the room as no one spoke.

“If you wouldn’t mind, as you said, it’s been a long journey,” Lucius said, standing up after barely sitting down for a minute, “if I could use your washroom?”

“Of course,” Nana nodded. “Harry, could you show your stepfather to the downstairs bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Harry said immediately, jumping up, knowing it was a ruse to get him alone.

Harry silently led the way towards the bathroom. Lucius cast some sort of privacy spell once they were alone.

“The note is from Dumbledore,” Lucius told him. “He said you would know the password to verify it was from him.”

“Right,” Harry said, pulling the paper from his sleeve. It was blank, presumably waiting for him to speak the password. But he ignored it for the moment. “Why did he send you here?”

“Narcissa and I volunteered. This morning we got some shocking news,” Lucius told him. “We were the only ones who knew where Severus’s family lived, and we have a somewhat tenuous connection to you.”

Harry wasn’t any less confused.

“Read the note,” Lucius suggested neutrally. “I understand you have no reason to trust my word, given your current rivalry with my son and recent circumstances. However, you can believe Dumbledore.”

“It’s Christmas Day,” Harry pointed out. “You gave up the day to come deliver Dumbledore’s note?”

“Christmas is a Muggle holiday,” Lucius told him. “Traditional Purebloods celebrate Yuletide, which holds a completely different meaning to Christmas. This particular day means less to us than it does to muggles, so coming here today doesn’t spoil our Christmas.”

Harry nodded his understanding. The Weasleys had never mentioned Yuletide, but he’d been around them long enough to understand that they weren’t exactly traditional.

“The bathroom’s that way,” he said, though he didn’t really believe Malfoy wanted to use it. Harry hurried to the den so he could read the note.

Closing the door behind him, he swallowed before whispering the password, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Dear Harry, he read,

This ingenious map of yours was most invaluable indeed, and I thank you for leaving it in my safekeeping. You can rest assured that I have not told anyone else about it, and upon your return to school, I promise to return it to you.

Because of this map, the other professors and I were able to set a trap for Sirius Black, and thus we were able to capture him.

Harry read the note with increasing confusion as it detailed Sirius Black’s lack of trial before he’d been sent to Azkaban and how Dumbledore would ensure he was fairly tried. With disbelief and disgust, Harry read that Ron’s pet was really a wizard masquerading as a rat. Dumbledore gave a brief summary of Pettigrew. It detailed that Sirius Black was Narcissa’s cousin, hence why he’d sent the Malfoys. Dumbledore’s note created more questions than it answered.

Harry already knew that Black was the one who betrayed Harry’s parent’s to Voldemort, and that he was apparently Harry’s godfather. If he was reading the note correctly, Dumbledore was implying that perhaps Black might be innocent? Harry had no clue what this meant for him. Harry suffered greatly under the Dementors' presence since he’d first encountered them. He couldn’t imagine what shape, mentally, Black would be in.

“Mischief Managed,” he whispered, and the note became blank again. He stuffed it into his trunk and came out of the den to see Lucius was waiting for him.

“Before we head back inside,” Lucius said, stopping Harry, “is there anything we should know about… well, anything you deem important?”

Harry thought quickly but asked, “How did you get here? Are we supposed to leave today? Muggle transport is scarce on Christmas day.”

“We came in a carriage, on winged abaraxon. They’re glamoured to look like a muggle car and have a muggle-repelling charm, so no one should approach them. As to whether we leave today, I’m sure Severus would be more than willing to leave, given a chance.”

Harry nodded. He’d be sorry to cut the holiday short, but firmly reminded himself that this wasn’t his family.

“Where’s Malfoy?” Harry asked, suddenly aware that the annoying ponce was nowhere around.

“With friends,” Lucius answered. “You need not worry about him.”

Though the look he bestowed on Harry showed he knew that the younger wizard didn’t care about his son. Harry belated remembered that Draco was egging his father on about executing an innocent hippogriff. However, now was not the time to air that grievance. One crisis at a time.

“Now, is there anything I need to know about keeping this façade going?” Lucius asked again.

Harry could tell that they were only doing this for Snape.

“Snape and I are pretending that we’re not very close. Everyone thinks that – er Mum, is a horrible shrew who never let my – er – dad  - anywhere near me,” Harry said.

Lucius nodded with an amused look. Harry realised the elder Malfoy already knew some of this.

“I’m a good cook,” Harry told him, “do it all the time at home. I learned it from my mum’s sister.”

Lucius nodded again to show his understanding.

“What’s your speciality?”

“Chocolate fudge cake,” he answered. Dudley loved anything chocolate, so it was something he’d become good at.

Harry racked his brain, aware they’d spent loads of time away from the Sitting room and needed to go back.

“And you’re really generous with my allowance,” Harry added.

“I hope you spend it wisely,” Lucius smirked.

They were about to enter the Sitting room again, when Harry suddenly remembered, “Eyes!”

Ignoring Lucius’s startled look, Harry asked, “What colour are Mrs Malfoy’s eyes?”

“Blue,” Lucius answered.

“I told everyone I got my eyes from my mum,” Harry told him.

Lucius stared at Harry’s green eyes intently and nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

They entered the room again, where the atmosphere was still awkward, and everyone seemed to be waiting for Harry and Lucius to return. Snape still seemed stuck on Narcissa.

Maya looked relieved at Harry’s return, whereas Jacky and Gloria eyed him critically. Lucius retook his seat next to Narcissa, with Harry on her other side. He tried not to feel startled as Narcissa took his hand.

Nana cleared her throat and asked, “Have you eaten? You must not have had a decent dinner if you’ve spent it on the road. We still have food left over. We can warm up for you.”

Narcissa and Lucius looked at each other, communicating the way Harry had seen Vernon and Petunia do when they were leaving Dudley, but mostly Harry, out of the conversation.

“We don’t want to put you through any trouble,” Lucius said when they broke eye contact.

“Of course, it’s no trouble,” Alfred answered.

“Perhaps a small meal,” Narcissa conceded. “I’d like to wash up, if that’s okay.”

Gloria offered to take Narcissa to the bathroom, as Alfred and Jacky led the way to the Dining room. The table had been cleared already.

Lucius sat down near the end of the table.

“Won’t you be joining us?” the blond asked, looking at everyone around him.

“We’ve already eaten,” Nana answered.

With Narcissa out of the room, Snape seemed to have transferred his unsettling gaze onto Lucius.

“However, we were going to sit down to dessert soon,” Nana continued.

Harry hovered self-consciously next to her wheelchair, Maya standing next to him. Nana was the only one from Snape’s family who knew that he wasn’t Snape’s son and that Narcissa wasn’t his mother or Snape’s ex. However, she seemed to be having fun with the situation.

Narcissa returned with Gloria and, to Harry’s surprise, came back with green eyes. He determined it must be a glamour of some sort but wondered at what point Lucius might have communicated that information to his wife.

“It’s so good of you to share your food with us,” Narcissa said, appropriately grateful, “but perhaps, it – well, I only – you see, I rarely get to see him during the school year since he’s started boarding at Severus’s alma mater. The school holidays are the only time I get to see him. I feel awful for intruding on your family time together.”

“We understand,” Alfred said, softening a little. “We were excited to have Harry over as well. We know so little about him, and yourself. And Severus too, when it comes down to it.”

“Why are you here?” Snape blurted out, belatedly.

“Do keep up, Severus. She’s already said she’s come to see Harry,” Nana admonished. “Claudia, please take a seat. We’ll bring the food out shortly.”

“Oh no,” Narcissa waved off, “please, don’t bother on our behalf.”

“It’s no bother,” Nana insisted. “You’ve come all this way. You must have cut your own meal short. If you had one at all.”

Narcissa still hesitated.

“Harry’s worked hard on the meal,” Alfred said, as if this was supposed to be some sort of incentive.

“Harry’s worked hard on the meal?” Narcissa repeated, slowly, confused.

“Well, of course,” Alfred confirmed, looking confused himself.

“You mean he helped in the kitchen,” Narcissa said, “not that he made the whole thing himself.”

“Well, truthfully, we helped Harry more than he helped us,” Gloria confessed. “He’s a very skilled boy. You must be proud of him.”

Narcissa, however, didn’t seem to be listening. She was stepping towards Snape, looking suddenly furious.

“You begged me to take my son to visit your family,” Narcissa hissed. “You said they were dying to meet him. You said they would dote on him.”

Harry looked wide-eyed as Malfoy’s mother squared off against Snape.

“Now, hold on,” Alfred tried to interfere, looking bewildered.

Narcissa said, her voice slightly above a whisper, “Is that why you brought him here? Because you were sick of eating food your cousin made, and you thought you would bring my son up here and have - You allowed my son to cook your Christmas dinner like some servant? He’s just a boy!”

Lucius got up from his seat to stand behind his wife, pulling her cautiously away from Snape as if she was liable to slap the Potions Master. Harry was almost fooled into believing she really was a concerned mother berating an absent father for using him as a House-elf for the day for his own gain. He admired her acting skills – wanting to put it down to her being a sneaky Slytherin, but that didn’t seem to apply to Snape. Harry felt someone like Snape was too blunt to be sneaky – he might be secretive but lacked the patience for subterfuge. Of course, Harry could be completely wrong about that.

Alfred and the others looked horrified.

“You complained about my cooking to your ex?” Jacky said indignantly.

“Honey,” Lucius said, pulling her back even further, “I’m sure that’s not what Severus intended. And you know what Harry’s like. He loves being in the kitchen and experimenting with recipes.”

“Yeah,” Harry tacked on quickly, “I volunteered. I didn’t mind. Honestly. I made cinnamon rolls too.”

“Your mother’s favourite,” Lucius added, still holding on to Narcissa, as if afraid if he let go, she would launch herself at Severus.

“Oh, Harry. You were thinking of me too?” Narcissa said with an indulgent smile.

Harry’s lips twitched as he said, “Of course. Always.”

“Listen,” Alfred interrupted, “we’ve loved having Harry here, and he’s welcome back here any time. As are you. We didn’t expect him to make our Christmas dinner, nor did we encourage him to. If anything, your boy has been a good influence on our children. My nephew Andrew seems more interested in learning to cook since Harry showed his skills.”

“Harry’s the best,” Maya piped up.

Harry smiled down gently at her. He missed Lucius and Narcissa taking in the girl’s protective stance.

“Don’t worry about serving us dinner,” Narcissa told them. “However, if you’re about to have dessert, I won’t say no to cinnamon rolls. Especially if my Harry’s made them – I’ll admit they’re not as good as his chocolate fudge cake.”

Harry had to remind himself this was all an act, as Narcissa was certainly acting like a warm and caring mother. He found himself envying Malfoy. The ponce might have been spoilt slimy git, but Harry might have grown up the same if his mother spoiled him as she apparently did her son.

He was unaware of the sadness entering his green eyes that almost everyone noticed. He shook off his thoughts. This was supposed to be an act, and he had to remind himself that he’d never see Snape’s family again after today.

“Take a seat,” Nana said, gesturing towards the dining table. “You too, Harry. Sit with your mother.”

“Yes, Harry, come sit with us,” Narcissa said, beckoning him closer.

“I’ll fetch some more chairs,” Alfred said. They would need them now that they had two more to add to their table.

Jacky was forced to sit as well, and she gratefully sank into a chair next to where Nana wheeled her chair.

“Would you like tea, coffee or hot chocolate?” Gloria asked.

“Hot chocolate, please,” Lucius answered for both.

“We’ll be out shortly,” Gloria said.

Snape sat down opposite Narcissa. He finally seemed to have woken up from his daze.

“Have you come to take - Harry away?” the Potions Master asked stiffly.

“Should we?” Narcissa parried back.

“Oh, please don’t take Harry away,” Maya begged, clutching his arm again.

Narcissa’s eyes softened as she gently pointed out, “He can’t stay forever, darling.”

“He could,” Maya argued.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as he patted her hands gently.

Maya stared at him, her eyes glistening and trying to convey something important to him before breaking eye contact and looking helplessly at her mother.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it, honey,” Jacky said, her words a promise that confused Harry, the Malfoys and Snape.

Nana Bea looked at her granddaughter in askance, to which Jacky replied with an odd emphasis on her words as she placed a hand on Nana’s back, “Harry’s one of us.”

There was a strange darkening in Nana’s eyes, as if she was angry at something, but whatever it was disappeared as quickly as it appeared. She did, however, give Harry a sharp look.

“Is all well?” Lucius asked, taking in the byplay.

“We shall see,” Nana said mysteriously.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Narcissa broke the silence when no other answers were forthcoming, “how far along are you?”

“A little over five months,” Jacky answered softly, placing her hand protectively over her swollen belly. “My due date is somewhere around the end of April.”

“My … Harry - was born early, by several weeks,” Narcissa shared. Looking sad, she softly added, “I almost lost him.”

Lucius took Narcissa’s hand; her other one had reached for Harry’s.

“I suppose that’s why I may spoil my son,” Narcissa said, looking at Harry with meaning.

Harry nodded, beginning to understand a little more about Draco Malfoy than he would have liked. The Dursleys doted on Dudley so much that his cousin knew no boundaries or consequences. He wondered briefly whether Petunia might have gone through similar trauma, which is why she and Vernon pampered Dudley so much. Though he firmly believed that their extreme behaviour was due to Harry’s presence in their lives.

He still didn’t feel like it excused Dudley’s or Draco’s attitude. They were both brats; sneaky and underhanded - and content to blame others (usually Harry) when things didn’t go their way.

Narcissa and Jacky chatted while waiting for the desserts to be brought out, exchanging pregnancy tips. Harry felt his cheeks heating up and sat through the conversation red-faced as he listened to Malfoy’s mum talk about all her cravings during her pregnancy and all the stuff her unborn baby put her through. It was stuff he never expected or wanted to hear.

“I think I need to use the bathroom – again,” Lucius said hastily, getting up as the conversation descended into highly private territory.

“I’ll show you,” Snape said just as hastily, as if Lucius might have forgotten.

Harry had no doubt that Snape wanted to get away just as much as Lucius, but would use the opportunity to interrogate his friend regarding his current presence in a muggle residence.

Malfoy always seemed to act like muggles were beneath him, but his parents were surprisingly comfortable being on a muggle farm run by a veterinary or were just that good at acting.

“I should see if they need help in the kitchen,” Harry said, scrambling from his seat. “It’s only polite.”

“I’ll go with you,” Maya tacked on, looking mortified.

Nana looked amused at the sudden mass exodus.

ooOoo

Jacky found herself liking Harry’s mother. The woman was much warmer than Severus presented her as, yet, despite her words saying she spoiled her son, he was not.

Claudia was affectionate and protective – blaming Severus for having Harry make Christmas dinner for them. And Jacky could see why the woman would be angry at that. Severus, as Harry’s parent, should have stood up for his son and not allowed the boy to take on so much work. It was only right that Claudia held Severus accountable for that.

In the scenario where she and Barry might split up and share custody, it would be up to Barry or Jacky to ensure their children were treated fairly. Jacky still made herself feel better by assuring herself that Harry hadn’t been alone to cook in the kitchen at any point. She, Gloria, Andrew and Maya had been there to share the burden every step of the way. And the poor darling had been so patient with them in the kitchen, giving them clear directions on how each food needed to be presented.

Andrew paid more attention to Harry’s words than he had to any teacher, and even took notes every chance he got.

 And Harry’s food had been gorgeous. It had been decades since Nana cooked, who was wonderful in the kitchen herself, but if Jacky had a choice between picking Harry’s food and Nana’s – Harry would win, hands down.

The way he handled each ingredient with such precision and expertise - and his knife skills – they were brilliant. She’d seen Severus handle the knife with the same proficiency, but he seemed as horrible in the kitchen as Jacky.

“Harry’s a credit to you,” Jacky told the other woman. However, despite the easy camaraderie, Jacky got the feeling Claudia was hiding something. Though it was clear the woman doted on her son, there was still a question about how Harry got those scars on his back. Jacky might not have seen the scars herself, but she trusted her daughter’s judgement and had no reason to doubt her word.

Harry seemed comfortable enough with his mother and stepfather. In fact, he’d shown no hesitation in leaving the room with Luke, so she doubted he was abused by either of them. Could it have been Severus? Jacky didn’t want to believe it, but truthfully, she didn’t know her cousin that well. Heaven help him if Severus touched a hair on little Harry’s head.

After a while, Luke and Severus poked their head back into the Dining room to see if it was safe to enter again. Jacky found herself amused at their embarrassment and at poor Harry’s. Maya was used to her mother embarrassing her, but perhaps this might have been a step too far, though it wouldn’t be long before Maya was due for the Birds and Bees talk.

Being vets, Alfred and Barry had experienced complicated pregnancies with their own patients, so they would have taken the topic with less awkwardness.

Upon Severus and Luke’s re-entry, Jacky excused herself to ostensibly check things in the kitchen, though most of the others were already there. The previous dishes had been cleared and washed away sometime in the last half hour.

Jacky sent the children back to the dining room with new dishes (and extra chairs) and sent Brian to fetch Iain from the Sitting room. She’d almost forgotten his presence and was looking forward to the man’s attitude towards the woman he'd called a bitch more than an hour ago.

God, that incident felt like it happened yesterday. So much had happened so quickly. She blamed herself for her loose lips and contributing towards Harry's distress and defence of her mother. The boy had worked so hard at the meal, only to end up not enjoying it as he should have been able to due to Iain’s crass words spoken at an inopportune moment.

Once the children were out of the kitchen, the adults turned to each, gathering around the kettle to exchange information at rapid speed and regroup. Gloria didn’t even tell Nana off for wheeling her chair into the clean kitchen when she came to join them.

“What’s actually happened?” Barry asked, the last one to be brought into the loop.

“Maya saw scars like ours on Harry’s back,” Jacky relayed.

Understanding dawned in Barry and Alfred’s eyes. They’d all put down her closeness to Harry due to hero worship following the gift he’d given her, which she treasured above all other presents she’d got today.

None of them asked if Maya had misinterpreted what she’d seen. Their children had been well-trained in treating abuse seriously and would never joke about anything like that. 

“Who do you think?” Barry asked, completely serious.

“I don’t know,” Jacky admitted with a sigh. “Harry doesn’t act scared around Claudia and Luke. He felt safe enough to leave the room with him.”

“Severus?”

Alfred answered, “It could be.”

Her brother hadn’t hesitated to stand beside Jacky when she’d stood up their cousin when – whatever happened in the den with Harry and Maya. Iain had been dazed, and Harry had looked confused, but Jacky didn’t believe for a second that Harry might have pushed Iain away. However, something had happened, and it was one more thing they needed to look into.

“Seems we have more sleuthing to do,” Jacky declared.

“Should we talk to Claudia about our suspicions?” Gloria suggested.

“No,” Nana said firmly, who’d been curiously silent until that point. “I think there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

Jacky nodded, trusting her grandmother’s judgement.

Getting Harry away from his parents would be difficult, but they wouldn’t hesitate to challenge Claudia or Severus if they had to.

Though they had no clear direction to help Harry, they felt better being on the same page. Deciding they would not let Claudia leave with Harry was the best plan they had, and they would insist that they keep to the original plan to have Harry and Severus stay until the end of the year.

Harry seemed in a much better mood than he was during dinner. The children had insisted Harry sit between them again instead of near his mother. However, Claudia didn’t seem to mind and seemed to be engaged in conversation with the young girls. Even Luke seemed to be taken by Lexi. Jacky caught a wistful look he aimed at the children and his wife.

Seeing how they behaved with the other children, Jacky couldn’t imagine they had been the ones to hurt Harry. Alfred and Jacky’s father never bothered showing a kind nature to those outside the family – there was no trickery in his attitude. He never presented himself as two-faced. When people had found out about Zachary Snape abusing his children, no one was surprised.

However, Jacky and Alfred had seen many abuse cases over the years – more than they liked to admit. She knew that not all monsters were as obvious as Zachary and Tobias Snape. Sadly, they’d not been able to help them all, the reasons varying in each case but primarily due to feeling powerless. Jacky refused to feel helpless for Harry. He was family.

She and Barry were going to start house-hunting in the new year; their family was growing with a new baby on the way. Finding a house with an extra bedroom for Harry wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. Children deserve to feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” Claudia was saying to Iain, her tone inquisitive, “I thought I knew all of Severus’s family. Which of his cousins are you?”

Harry looked up from his conversation with Sarah, eying Iain intently.

Jacky was pleasantly surprised to see the old gruff blush in embarrassment.

Alfred answered, almost amused, “Iain’s one of our neighbours. We invited him after he missed the train to Glasgow.”

Claudia nodded.

“Are you planning to drive back today?” Nana asked, once everyone had been served.

Jacky assumed her grandmother was trying to establish whether they would be leaving today and planning to take Harry with them.

“We were,” Luke answered for both.

“I wish we could have offered you a room here,” Nana said, and Jacky was surprised to hear how fake Nana, who was usually so kind, sounded. “However, I’m afraid there’s simply no extra space with everyone staying over.”

“Jacqueline’s house is nearby and empty,” Severus pointed out.

“Glad you feel comfortable enough to offer my home to strangers,” Jacky said archly.

Severus grimaced in embarrassment.

Claudia interjected, “Truly, there’s no need. We shall be leaving soon.”

“Without Harry,” Alfred said firmly. “Severus promised us that he and Harry would spend until New years with us. After all, this is the first time we’ve seen Harry since his birth. We have a lot of catching up to do still.”

“Are you sure you’re not wanting to keep Harry so you have someone to cook for you?” Severus asked, bristling a little.

“We’ll eat bread and jam for the rest of the holidays,” Gloria said, “but you don’t need to worry about thinking that we only want to keep Harry for his cooking skills. Harry has many other talents that make him an invaluable part of the family.”

“Like his cleaning skills?” Severus added disdainfully.

Gloria glared at Severus.

“You made him clean as well?” Claudia asked stiffly.

“I helped a little,” Harry added, more nervously than he needed to. “We all cleaned together. No different to the chores you have me do at home... Mum.”

Claudia seemed to calm down a little but still turned to her ex and said, “You and I shall be having words, Severus.”

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it is,” Severus said, “for no reason.”

“Claudia has every right to defend her son,” Alfred said. Then turning to the woman in question, he continued, “All chores are divided equally in this house. Harry’s only been here with us for a week, but truly, he’s quickly become family to us. We’d never do anything to hurt him, and that includes abusing his gentle nature by allowing him to cook and clean for us. If anything, he’s set a good example for our children.”

The children in question watched in silence, absently eating their cinnamon rolls. Lexi had frosting smeared on her face as she took gigantic bites and chewed as she darted her eyes between the adults.

“Harry’s safe here with us,” Nana added gently as she looked at Claudia intently.

Claudia and Luke subtly exchanged puzzled glances.

“Are you implying that he’s not safe with us?” Luke asked.

He didn’t seem defensive, Jacky was able to determine. Just baffled.

Severus, on the other hand, looked cross.

“What has the boy been telling you?” he demanded as he pushed his plate and cup away, his dessert untouched.

Harry paused, his spoon frozen inches away from his lips.

“Don’t get angry at Harry,” Maya said, glaring indignantly at Severus.

“What on earth is going on?” Claudia asked, looking between everyone.

“The boy seems to be telling tales,” Severus said, looking at Harry irritatedly, deciding to ignore Maya.

“I haven’t said anything to anyone,” Harry said defensively.

Nana looked at Alfred and Jacky. That was another familiar phrase. It was looking more and more likely that Severus was the one hurting Harry.

“Severus, Harry hasn’t spoken an ill word about you since the moment he arrived,” Nana snapped, surprising the man, “which is more than I can say about you. Every other word you speak about the boy is about how lazy he is, how big his ego is, how much of a bully he is – but the only bully I see here is you.”

Severus paled, looking hurt.

“That’s what you’ve been telling your family about our son?” Claudia asked mildly.

“Nana?” Harry said, looking uncertain as to whether he should interfere or not.

“Children, I want all of you to take your food into the Sitting room,” Nana ordered, seeming to have had enough.

There was a pause where the children looked at each other indecisively, but at Nana’s prompting, they complied, though they moved slower than they usually would. Jacky hadn’t seen Nana get this angry in, well, decades, to be fair. After Uncle Tobias passed away, peace settled on their family. They’d had their ups and downs over the years, but nothing had ever upset Nana this much. Not until Jacky told her that Harry had scars like they did.

Nana seemed to have run out of patience dead quickly for her to go straight to the heart of the matter. Not that Jacky minded. In fact, she wholeheartedly approved.

“You too, Harry,” Jacky added when the boy paused.

Iain, sensing the family matter, also got up. Barry helped carry the older man’s food and tea, as he would have struggled with both due to his cane.

It would figure, that the one time they get an edible Christmas dinner, they wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy it due to rising tensions.

Gloria exchanged a look with her husband before getting up and leaving.

Prudently, Claudia took her husband and exited gracefully, sending a sympathetic glance towards her ex, which Jacky felt was rather gracious given how much and how often Severus badmouthed her in the past.

“You really think I’m a bully, Nana?” Severus asked, sounding distressed.

“What do you think, Severus?” Nana volleyed back.

This wasn’t how Jacky anticipated Christmas would go, but Severus needed to hear some harsh truths.

ooOoo

Andrew and the others invited Harry to join them upstairs, where they’d decided to retreat after finishing their treats and hot chocolate – at speed. However, Harry decided to stay behind and have a quiet conversation with Narcissa and Lucius first.

Harry suspected they didn’t want to spend more time around Iain Baker than they had to, so they’d absconded upstairs. They even took Marley, carrying the rabbit for Lexi.

Harry led Narcissa and Lucius towards the den, allowing them to cast a quick Privacy and Proximity ward.

“What’s been happening here?” Narcissa asked.

However, Lucius seemed to be looking around the den that still showed signs of the earlier… scuffle – and asked, “What happened in here?”

“Accidental magic,” Harry answered but hurried on before they could delve too much into that. “Sn- er- Professor Snape’s been having some problems with his family.”

The Malfoys gave him twin looks, silently asking him to elucidate.

Harry sighed. As much as he came to love Snape’s family, this whole thing was becoming ridiculous.

“Snape asked me to come here with him and told me to be on my best behaviour,” he told them.

They nodded, seeming to know that and didn’t correct Harry’s lack of honorific.

“But, I take from their comments, that he’s not painted the best picture of you to his family,” Narcissa said shrewdly.

“Well, he’s told them that you’re – as in his ex – is -er that – ” Harry stuttered before deciding to spit it out, “he’s said Claudia’s a horrible person who purposely kept his son from him and spoiled him – as in me- rotten. And how he – me – I have no work ethic and how I’m lazy and, you know, don’t play well with others.”

The Malfoys looked amused, smiling as they exchanged looks.

“And you proved the opposite?” Lucius smirked.

Harry shrugged and repeated, “He told me to be on my best behaviour.”

Narcissa shook her head exasperatedly and said, “Severus did like to make things difficult for himself.”

“And what else?” Lucius prompted.

“Well, things were going well,” Harry said. He decided not to mention kicking Snape, or the fact Nana could walk, or that she knew about magic or even share his suspicions about Maya. “We were opening presents together, and Snape gave his usual presents to everyone –”

“The money,” Lucius said knowingly.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Except, he gave Sarah, the oldest, more than he usually would.”

“I recall him mentioning it. For her education, wasn’t it? How much did he gift?” Narcissa asked curiously.

“A cheque for a thousand pounds,” Harry said.

Both had a brief look of concentration as they mentally converted that into galleons.

“Is that a lot in muggle money?”

“It’s a significant amount to give,” Harry said with another shrug. “To help Sarah with her book and tuition."

"And I take the gesture didn’t go down well?” Lucius stated more than asked.

“It caused some upset,” Harry admitted cautiously.

“Pride seems to be a strong trait around the Snape family,” Narcissa muttered.

Harry wisely pressed his lips together to stop a retort about hypocrisy from escaping. Their son had antagonised a creature he had been warned about offending and was too proud to admit he hadn’t been listening and paid the price for it. And because he’d made such a huge fuss about a tiny scratch that Pomfrey had healed within seconds, he was too proud to back down and insisted on having the poor creature's head.

“What happened during dinner? Before we arrived?” Narcissa persisted in her questioning.

“It gets a little confusing,” Harry offered warily, deciding not to mention his own upset over Iain Baker’s callous remark during dinner. “Er, Mr Baker came to join us for dinner because he was alone, and the Snapes took pity on him and invited him over. But he’s not well-liked by the children.”

“Why not?”

“He’s – a little loud with his opinions,” Harry told them. “Which can be offensive.”

“What did he say?” Narcissa asked her tone a blend between curiosity and resignation.

“Many things,” Harry prevaricated. “I wasn’t there for all of it, but he said something about Snape being girly because of his long hair and how boys shouldn’t be in the kitchen. And during dinner, he might have said something offensive about you – er, Claudia.”

“Might have?” Lucius pressed.

“Well, all right – yeah, he said Claudia was a bitch,” Harry conceded.

“You know, that would explain why everyone was looking at me so peculiarly when I was speaking to him,” Narcissa said with realisation.

“And how did Severus react?” Lucius asked with a raised brow.

“Well, he wasn’t happy,” Harry relayed.

“Probably didn’t like his fake upset with his fake ex being bandied about to a stranger,” Narcissa chuckled, not the least bit offended.

“That’s everything?” Lucius pressed with a narrow-eyed look at Harry. “Why do they think you need protecting? From Severus?”

“I don’t know,” Harry confessed, genuinely confused. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed how protective they seemed of him, but he didn’t know where that stemmed from. Ever since she opened his gift to her, Maya had to be forced to leave his side. He hoped the hero worship would wear off soon. Ginny and Colin were enough; he couldn’t handle another groupie.

Andrew had been a little quiet at one point in the kitchen. He’d gone out to ask Gloria (when they stepped out to talk about Iain Baker- or so he assumed) about the potato masher, but had come back subdued. Harry put it down to being told off for interrupting the adults in their conversation, and Andrew seemed to pull himself out of his funk quick enough, so Harry didn’t think much of it.

He didn’t know what else could have happened.

“What caused the accidental magic?” Lucius asked.

Startled, Harry realised he was staring at the spot where Baker had fallen down, and Lucius and Narcissa’s eyes followed his gaze.

“I don’t know,” Harry said shortly. “It just happened.”

“Did anyone get hurt?” Narcissa asked.

“No.”

Neither seemed to believe him, but neither of them pressed the matter.

“So, what’s happening now?” he asked, moving the topic forward. “Dumbledore’s letter wasn’t clear.”

“What did his letter say?”

“Dumbledore said that Black never got a trial and that he would get one as soon as possible. He said that Black might be declared innocent depending on the trial's outcome. ”

“Anything else?” Lucius asked.

Harry shrugged and added, “Dumbledore said he’s your cousin or something and something about Sirius Black being my godfather.”

Lucius seemed to do a full body eye roll, clearly exasperated by the headmaster.

“Do you know what that means?” Narcissa asked, ignoring her husband’s body language and observing Harry intently.

Harry shook his head.

“Being named a godparent is a great honour in the wizarding world. Should something happen to a child’s parents, unless the Will stipulates otherwise, the godparent is the first in line to take custody,” Narcissa explained.

Harry nodded to show his understanding.

“Your parents never left a Will,” Lucius took over. “Perhaps they never get around to it. Perhaps they did write one but didn’t get a chance to lodge it with the Ministry or Gringotts. They were in hiding, so the latter is a strong possibility.”

 “Sirius should have been the one to take you in by default,” Narcissa added, her tone gentle.

“Except he was sent to Azkaban,” Harry said, ignoring how Narcissa was trying to sugarcoat the situation. He didn’t know whether Sirius Black was genuinely innocent or not or what it would mean for Harry if he was.

He dared not hope that he could leave the Dursleys. After blowing up Aunt Marge in August, Harry never thought his aunt and uncle would take him back, but for some reason, they had agreed after speaking to Fudge. The Dursleys had long memories when it came to Harry’s freakishness and knew he had only delayed the inevitable by avoiding going to Privet Drive for Christmas. He had no doubt that Vernon’s belt was waiting for him. Or that Petunia was already compiling a list of back-breaking labour that would keep him occupied all summer. Though he hoped that the Weasleys would come to break him out again.

Harry’s luck was notoriously fickle. As much as he would like to leave the Dursleys behind forever, he firmly refused to entertain the thought that it could happen.

“So, how come you’re involved?” Harry asked when there was no other information forthcoming.

“I won’t bore you with my family history right now,  but as you already know, Sirius is my cousin,” Narcissa told him. “I have two sisters, both older than me. Bella is in Azkaban, and trust me when I say she deserves that place. My other sister Andromeda was cast from the family for marrying a muggle-born. We were all close at one point in our lives.”

Harry nodded but truthfully didn’t understand why the Malfoys still travelled to a muggle farm, interrupting the Snape family holiday, and their own, to impart this knowledge.

Seeming to pick up on his thoughts, Lucius said, “We came for two reasons. The first was to check on Severus. We know this is the longest he’s ever spent with his extended family, and frankly, we were curious as to whom he decided to settle on to play the part of his son.”

“We had a good chuckle when Dumbledore told us it was you,” Narcissa added.

“What’s the second reason?”

“You’re family now,” Narcissa said simply.

When Harry gave them a look of disbelief, Narcissa continued smiling, “You are. I always had doubts about Sirius’s innocence for reasons I won’t go into right now. Andromeda and I feel dreadfully guilty that we didn’t push, and I can’t speak for Andromeda, but I had other reasons why I never looked deeper. I never even realised that Sirius hadn’t been given a fair trial. I firmly believe Sirius will be proven innocent, and when he does, he will insist on taking custody of you.”

Harry hated the way his heart leapt at the thought that someone might take him away from the Dursleys, but he still refused to give in to that feeling.

Recalling the picture that had been published in the Daily Prophet when Black escaped prison and comparing it to the one in his photo album of the wizard at his parents’ wedding, Harry said, “He’s spent twelve years in Azkaban. He can’t be in the right state to look after himself, let alone take responsibility for someone else.”

“You’re right,” Narcissa conceded without argument. “Which is why you and Sirius will be moving in with us.”

Harry laughed in disbelief.

“I bet Malfoy loved that idea,” he scoffed.

“Draco is still getting used to it,” Lucius shrugged.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“Sirius has no home, not one that is habitable currently,” Narcissa said. “And for the foreseeable future, he will be recuperating from his enforced incarceration. That will not, however, stop him from insisting on taking custody of his godson.”

“He didn’t seem to care about custody of me when he went off chasing after Peter Pettigrew,” Harry argued. “I don’t see why it seems to matter to him now. He doesn’t even know me. I don’t know him.”

Narcissa’s expression settled into something one of understanding, and something in Harry hated it even though he realised it was irrational.

“Besides,” Harry continued before either Malfoy could say anything, “Malfoy and I don’t get on. He’s a spoiled brat, and you’re both helping him destroy the life of an innocent creature because he’s too stupid to follow instructions… and- and – and – no one’s even asked me whether I even want to leave my aunt and uncle!”

Harry doesn’t know why he’s arguing about this. This could be his chance to leave the Dursleys. Forever. Except he didn’t know Sirius Black. And the reason he couldn’t stand Draco Malfoy was because he reminded Harry of Dudley, who was also a horrible bully.

Everything Snape accused Harry of was so completely wrong. It was Dudley and Draco who were the spoiled, arrogant brats who got away with murder.

So, by his logic, if Draco was the magical version of Dudley, then Draco’s were surely the magical version of Vernon and Petunia. Snape was Draco’s godfather, and Harry already knew what he was like.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew the Malfoys were probably on Voldemort’s side in the last war. What if this was just some sort of scheme to get Harry under their control?

Why would Dumbledore even go along with it? Harry trusted Dumbledore’s judgement but wasn’t it Headmaster who insisted that Harry return to his relatives?

And besides, as much as he hated the Dursleys and wanted to get away from them, they were still known to him. Sirius Black and the Malfoys – Harry didn’t know where he stood with them. There must have been a reason why everyone thought Sirius Black was dark that they chucked him in prison without even a trial.

It all seemed to hinge on Black coming out innocent, which might not even happen. He could end up back in Azkaban, which meant Harry would still be returning to the Dursleys, and everyone was giving him hope for no reason.

“You would prefer to return to your muggle relatives?” Lucius asked.

“What’s wrong with them?” Harry said, crossing his arms defensively.

“They’re muggles,” Lucius said as if that was reason enough.

“You’re standing in a muggle house,” Harry pointed out.

“Temporarily,” Lucius said. “You would have to return to them permanently. You would choose them over your true world?”

Harry had no answer to that.

“Sirius Black might not be innocent,” Harry said instead, “in which case, I’ll still be with my muggle relatives, and all this is moot.”

And if that happened, then Harry had no place with the Malfoys either.

Lucius probably would have argued the point, but Narcissa stopped him by resting her hand on his arm.

“Then, for Sirius’s sake, I will take on his responsibility,” Narcissa said, “and still offer you a home where I promise you will not be harmed.”

But Harry couldn’t trust her words. The Dursleys made their feelings for Harry exceedingly clear. Sirius Black had chosen to chase after Peter Pettigrew rather than stay and look after Harry. The Malfoys only offered a home with them because of some sense of duty towards Sirius. Snape’s family liked him, but only because they thought he was Snape’s son. Nana might know the truth, but that didn’t mean she, or any of the others, would welcome him back once the whole truth came out.

Which Harry fully believed it would, one day and soon. Snape couldn’t keep up the pretence forever.

“Think about it, Harry,” Narcissa encouraged.

“I have to go – upstairs,” he said and backed out of the room.

They didn’t stop him. He slowly made his way upstairs, lost in thought and hoped for the distraction of a conversation with the others. Maybe Maya wanted another round of kickboxing, or Andrew wanted to pick his brain about cooking or whatever conversation he could get to distract himself from the insidious hope beginning to lodge into his heart of getting away from Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley.

The door to Sarah’s room was wide open, and their voices trailed out. He paused, just out of view and took a deep breath to centre himself. He didn’t want them to know he was upset; it’s not like he could explain why.

Feeling ready to face them, he took another step, bringing him to the threshold. Everyone had their backs to the door. Sarah was out of sight, but the twins were sitting on the bed. Beth, Laurel and Lexi were on the floor around Marley but looked up intermittently towards the boys.

Harry couldn’t see Maya anywhere but assumed she was around.

He was about to give a polite knock before entering when he heard his name and froze.

“… well, even if he’s not really our cousin, at least we got a decent Christmas dinner out of it. He’s worth keeping around just for that…”

Even though they had been joking about that most of the day and Harry had joined in earlier, he still found the words hurt when Andrew said them.

“So- so- so, I’m only family because I cooked for you?”  Harry said stiltedly.

They all whirled around in surprise. Sarah and Maya stepped into view, looking delighted to see him as if they’d not laid eyes on him for years, but Harry could only think about Andrew’s words.

Andrew was laughing as he saw Harry, as if he’d said nothing wrong, but the expression fell away when he saw how upset Harry was.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked in concern. “Did something happen?”

“Only that I’m just good enough to keep around because you think I’ll cook for you,” Harry said blankly, feeling betrayed.

Looking alarmed, Andrew stepped forward, “No, Harry. That’s not what I meant.”

“I think I understood it well enough,” Harry said and backed away, turning to head back downstairs.

Furious at himself, he strode back to the den to pack his stuff. Lucius and Narcissa were back in the Sitting room from the sounds of their voices, and he didn’t know if Nana and the others were out of the Dining room yet.

Only moments ago, he’d told himself that the others would find out that he wasn’t really Snape’s son and would treat him differently, and he hated that he was so right about it. He’d gone out of his to inveigle himself in their good graces, but it seemed he’d done too good a job when they only seemed to care that he could cook them a decent meal.

Tears prickled in his ears, and he furiously told himself he was being stupid. He knew this wouldn’t last. He knew it! But his treacherous heart still hurt upon hearing how he was only worth keeping around because it benefitted someone else.

At least the Dursleys were open and honest about their feelings.

There was nothing here for him. The Snapes weren’t his family. With that thought, he yanked off his Christmas jumper and dumped it on his cot. Then he reached for his trunk, opening it up to bring out the Weasley jumper he’d taken off before because it had a hole.

Weasley jumper on, he took out the other three Christmas jumpers gifted to him and piled them neatly on his cot, along with the other presents gifted to him. They were for Snape’s son. Not Harry Potter.

“Why are you packing?”

Harry jumped at the sound of Maya’s voice.

“Are you leaving?” she asked when he didn’t answer.

“Yeah,” Harry said. Then forced himself to add, “With my parents.”

“Please don’t go,” she implored. “Andrew didn’t mean it. It was just a joke.”

“I have to go,” Harry said, ignoring the rest.

“But you’re supposed to stay until after the new year,” Maya insisted.

Harry couldn’t answer. He checked blindly around the room to make sure he’d not left anything out.

Maya made a noise of frustration and darted away.

Harry spotted a pad and pen. He hesitated before grabbing it and scrawled out a quick note to Nana. He folded it twice and then used a spare piece of leftover wrapping paper to make a makeshift envelope, upon which he scribbled ‘Nana’ in block capitals.

He detoured to Nana’s room and left it on her bed before heading to the Sitting room, where Maya was trying to persuade her dad to speak to Harry.

Lucius and Narcissa looked concerned, as was Iain, as they listened to Maya’s babble.

“I don’t understand,” Barry was saying to his daughter. Then, spotting Harry, he looked at him in confusion, “Are you okay, Harry? Have you and the boys had a fight?”

“No,” Harry denied instantly, “no fight.”

“Why do you have your bag?” Barry questioned.

“Harry said he’s going. Please, dad, he can’t go,” Maya begged.

“Harry?” Narcissa asked.

“Can we home?” Harry said, looking at her intently. “Right now?”

“Of course,” she said slowly.

“Harry, listen,” Barry implored, “whatever happened between you and the boys, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“There’s no misunderstanding,” Harry said in a brittle voice. “Nothing happened. I would just like to go home.”

Though he wished he had a home to go to.

“I’m not sure what’s happened, but clearly, Harry isn’t feeling comfortable here, so perhaps we should leave,” Lucius said smoothly. “Please give our gratitude to your family and offer our apologies for leaving without seeing them."

“Hold on now,” Barry protested, “Harry came with Severus, and he’ll be leaving with Severus.”

“Harry,” said a soft voice.

Andrew and the others crowded the hallway but didn’t quite step into the Sitting room.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Andrew tried to explain. “I just meant that it didn’t matter-”

“I know,” Harry lied, cutting off the other boy’s words. “I just have to go.”

Andrew looked heartbroken, but Harry turned away.

While Lucius and Narcissa were arguing with Barry, Harry moved to the front entrance, grabbing his coat from the rack and jamming his feet into his batter trainers. He’d not opened his new ones yet. He had to put his trunk down so he could put his coat on, but picked it back up immediately and opened the front door to go wait by the carriage for the Malfoys.

“Please don’t leave, Harry,” Maya said, having followed him.

“You have fun with those gloves, yeah?” he said without looking at her. “Show everyone how strong you are. Kick some arse.”

When Maya didn’t respond, Harry made the mistake of turning around and looking her in the eye.

She threw herself at him, forcing him to drop his trunk to brace himself and her.

“You’ll come back, won’t you?”

Harry wished he was cruel like Draco Malfoy or Dudley, but he wasn’t. So, he quite honestly told her, “We’ll see each other next year.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at her hopeful face. “I promise.”

The words made her relax, and she reluctantly let go of him. He picked his trunk back up and encouraged her to go back inside.

“Go on,” he said, “you’re letting all the heat out.”

He didn’t look back as he trudged to the carriage, seeing through the glamour, and waited for the Malfoys to join him.

The journey to Malfoy Manor was made in grateful silence.

Chapter 10 – Showstopper

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and that your Christmas was full of love, love, laughter and family – despite the security situation that Harry told me about.

I can’t say I know much about your world beyond what you’ve told me, but this beautiful and clever owl turned up exactly when I needed her to, which resolved my dilemma of how to get my letter across to you.

Albus raised an intrigued brow as he read about the reference to the security issue – which he presumed referred to Sirius Black. He continued reading the letter, his brows coming closer and closer together. The letter’s contents had been enlightening, answering many questions about what had occurred over Christmas break.

It seemed Beatrice had known that Severus didn’t have a son but still played along. There seemed to be some miscommunication between Harry and the other children, and the rest of the family had been heartbroken that Harry left the way he did.

He never intended for Narcissa and Lucius to return with Harry or Severus- though the option was open to both of them.

Severus’s love for his grandmother was evident to Albus – the woman had been one constant for the Potions Master since the moment she’d taken in the teen. Patient and compassionate in a way that Albus knew he could only strive to be.

Though Severus never admitted it loud, Albus knew the reason for his reticence in confiding to his grandmother about being a wizard was entirely due to Tobias Snape’s rejection of Eileen Prince – and all it entailed. Severus was too afraid his grandmother and the rest of the family would reject him the same way Tobias had Eileen. Albus couldn’t fault Severus for that fear.

So, Albus had broached the topic with Beatrice Snape himself, entirely prepared to – adjust – her memory at the first hint of intolerance. Luckily, his gamble paid true. Beatrice completely understood the Wizarding world and its need for secrecy. She kept Severus’s, and Albus’s, secrets for over a decade. Not an easy feat, but the woman handled it with grace.

However, after Harry returned with Lucius and Narcissa a week ago, Albus feared that his meddling had not paid the same results on this occasion. Harry had come back so subdued that even the Malfoys had been concerned. Harry refused to talk to anyone.

“There was already some sort of tension before we arrived,” Narcissa told him. “We had planned to have Severus and Mr Potter stay with us for the duration of the holidays if they agreed to leave with us, but after what occurred, we thought it best to bring Mr Potter back to school.”

Severus hadn’t returned to the school either. Albus had received a letter from him on Boxing Day informing him he’d left his family’s farm in Marple, so Albus surmised that the Potions Master had returned to his house in Liverpool instead.

The upgrading of the school wards had continued, even after capturing Sirius. Albus had taken great delight in using Harry’s unique Map to set a trap for Sirius and explore the rest of the castle. He’d learned of new secret passages he’d not previously been aware of. Repaired and warded some collapsed passages, funded courtesy of the Ministry for Magic. Lucius had become an unexpected ally in that regard. Albus couldn’t say he trusted the former Death Eater entirely; however, since his part in the diary incident last year, Lucius was taking his son’s safety extremely seriously.

Albus also ended up having strict words with Remus Lupin about his part in … well, everything. James and Sirius’s decision to become animagi had been genius… and reckless. He had been disappointed in Remus for keeping that secret even after all these years, especially after Sirius had used his dog form to evade the Ministry and sneak into the school. Remus should have spoken up when Sirius slashed the portrait of Lady Fiona, commonly referred to as the Fat Lady, the guardian of the Gryffindor Common room.

Severus had tried to argue that Sirius Black had been getting inside help, and it had been obvious that he’d meant Remus. Albus remembered shutting that argument down, saying he believed in Remus, but he’d been wrong. To a degree, Albus could understand Remus’ loyalty to his old school friend; after all, he still felt an odd loyalty to his old friend Gellert despite the decades that passed since their …estrangement. The teens had done a great deal to show that they didn’t care about the werewolf’s affliction, and Remus clung to that version of his friends.

Albus realised he couldn’t trust Remus, and as much as it pained him, he’d decided that he wouldn’t be renewing the werewolf’s contract for the following year. He’d seen the decision had hurt Remus and knew the students would miss him as their teacher, but Albus needed to be able to trust his colleagues.

Considering the difficult life Remus lived due to his affliction, it had been an equally difficult decision. He knew how desperately the young wizard needed employment. However, he stood by it.

He’d already failed with Quirinius Quirrell and Gilderoy Lockhart the previous two years, and he’d been disappointed to be let down by the otherwise compassionate Remus Lupin, but the man had put his loyalty to his friends’ memories first above the students’ safety.

Shaking his thoughts away from Sirius and Remus, Albus read through the letter from Beatrice again.

Harry is now part of the Snape family, and we look after our own. Which we will do so much better than Harry’s current guardians, whoever they are.

I don’t know how things work in your world, but in the muggle world, any abuse reported by the teachers to the proper authorities must be investigated. Now, I might not know who the proper authorities are in your world, but as a Headmaster responsible for a school of children, I am putting this responsibility squarely on your shoulders.

Harry is not safe with his current guardians. The scars he bears are evidence of that. If you don’t correct this injustice, then I will.

I look forward to your next letter bearing good news.

Wishing you a happy new year,

Beatrice Snape.

Albus recognised the promise in Beatrice’s words. If Albus didn’t remove Harry from the Dursleys, Beatrice Snape and her family would. Albus had no doubt that the octogenarian muggle would follow through on that promise. Albus had suspected that Harry’s home life hadn’t been the best but never imagined it was anywhere near this bad. Certainly, Arabella had never reported anything like this, though it’s not like the squib could see what happened behind closed doors.

Moreover, Albus knew that abused children were notoriously tight-lipped and distrusting of authority figures. He could honestly, and shamefully, admit that despite he’d not been able to protect Harry as he should have done over the last few years. He could also admit that until he received Beatrice’s letter, he had planned on returning Harry to the Dursleys for the protection the Blood wards allowed.

He had every confidence that Sirius would be proven innocent. While the papers had reported that Sirius Black had been captured, what the public didn’t know was that the trial was pending. As far as everyone was concerned, Sirius was already back in Azkaban, thus luring Peter Pettigrew into a false sense of security. Albus already had a trap in place to capture the rat animagus the second Ronald Weasley stepped off the Hogwarts Express, to be presented at Sirius’s trial, which wouldn’t occur until after term started to allow for the students to return, for that very reason.

His plan had been to talk to Harry about remaining with the Dursleys for part of the summer, and only staying with Sirius (and whoever Sirius decided to reside with) for the remaining portion of the holidays. He was sure Harry would understand.

Now, however, he couldn’t in good conscience follow through on that plan.

Lucius and Narcissa had opened their home to Sirius, and because of him, Harry, too. Albus was still unsure of Lucius’s motives, but if the wizard agreed to certain precautions, Albus could be persuaded to allow Harry to stay there.

If, and it was a dragon-sized if, Harry was amenable to it.

Harry had been too young when Albus had made the decision to leave him with Petunia, and that had turned out to be the worst possible decision he could have made. Given all that Harry had been through, it would be a great disservice to the independent young wizard if he didn’t ask for the boy’s input. Harry deserved that.

P.S. I shall be forever grateful if you could forward the parcel of letters to Harry from my family and me.

Eying the second bundle, Albus folded the letter away carefully and pulled out spare parchment to reply to Severus’s grandmother.

Dear Beatrice, Albus wrote.

My Christmas was lovely and wonderfully busy. My security issue has been taken care of, thank you for asking, and I’m confident that no further safety issues shall arise.

Please accept my heartful gratitude for bringing Harry and his current guardianship to my attention. You may rest assured, and have my solemn vow, that Harry will not return there. As to where he can go, that is something I shall discuss with the boy in question and shall relay to Harry that your home is open to him as you have requested.  

I am disheartened to hear that the holidays didn’t end on a happier note, and I beg your forgiveness for my part in Severus and Harry’s subterfuge.

Your note has brought to my attention how alike both boys are, both of whom need the support of a kind and compassionate family like yours.

Severus has not yet returned to the school, so I cannot confirm what state he is in, but you have my promise I shall look after him too.

On a much happier note, it seems that Severus will be forced to share an aspect of himself he kept hidden from you and your family for so long, which might at least smooth relations between your grandchildren.

Wishing you health and happiness in the New Year,

Albus Dumbledore.

He carefully dried the ink and folded the letter before placing it in an envelope, addressing it with a simple Beatrice Snape. He looked toward Fawkes’s perch, which his phoenix kindly shared with Harry’s owl, Hedwig.

“Are you well enough for a return trip?” Albus asked, holding up the envelope.

Hedwig fluttered over to Albus in acquiescence and patiently held still as she allowed Albus to tie the letter to her leg.

“Fly safely, my friend,” Albus said as he got up to open the window for the snowy owl, who was as faithful to her owner as his phoenix was to him.

Albus watched her fly into the distance until he could see her no more. Then, instead of returning to his desk, he exited his office and walked to the small, well-hidden tower, just a short walk from his office, cheerfully humming the whole way.

Opening the door to the tower, he entered with a spring in his step and a widening smile. Few people could enter this room. Apart from Albus, as Headmaster, only the Head of each House could enter this room.

The Quill of Acceptance was scribbling diligently away, addressing the envelopes for their intended recipients. A neat pile was ready for Minerva to distribute to the school owls, a never-ending task that Albus missed, if he was truthful.

He ignored the Quill and the envelopes, heading straight for the Book of Admittance on a separate pedestal further back. He flicked through the last dozen or so pages. The Book of Acceptance recorded the names of children as they performed magic it deemed was dramatic enough to be accepted into the school. Thus, he had to flick through more pages than he would have to before he found the name he was looking for.

There.

Maya Rogers.

He’d almost snapped the book, but some instinct stayed his hand. He turned the pages back towards the more recent pages and read the name his subconscious had picked up, which he’d consciously skimmed past in his haste to look for the name mentioned by Beatrice.

He chuckled in delight. Well, now, it seemed Severus would have more than one niece attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He wished he’d held off from sending off his letter until after he’d checked the Book of Admittance. He briefly debated sending a second letter but then decided that the Snapes would be in for a delightful surprise when they saw a second letter telling them of a witch in the family some years down the line.

A delightful surprise indeed.

Albus practically skipped out of the tower, firmly closing the door behind him as he returned to his office, humming even more cheerfully than earlier.

For now, he had to find a home for Harry and some letters to pass on.

ooOoo

Chapter 11 – Bring Down the House

Severus didn’t want to open the door, so when the first knock sounded, he ignored it. He only had one more day before he had to return to the school, and he wanted to spend it alone, wallowing in misery without anyone’s interference.

He’d always considered himself clever, but he’d learned otherwise on Christmas Day. It hurt to know his muggle family thought so little of him. Not to mention that scolding he’d gotten from Nana. She’d never spoken to him like that before. Even when he’d been a snotty, sarcastic teen himself, she’d been patience personified. Not trusting her after everything he’d been through with father, he pushed and pushed, expecting her to throw him out and prove him right. To prove to him that she was just like her son.

Yet, she hadn’t.

She’d persevered in the face of his belligerence and uncomplainingly bore his attitude until he finally realised he could count on her to be there for him.

Which she had.

Yet, how did he repay that?

By lying to her every step of the way. About his school. About his magic. About having an ex-girlfriend and the final straw that broke the hump, about having a son.

He snorted in derision, the sound drowned out by another, louder knock on his door. He glared in the direction of the front door, as if trying to deter his unwanted visitor by sheer will alone and went back to look at the books he’d scattered in front of him.

Nana and his cousins had suspected almost the whole time that he didn’t have a son. He’d let the charade go on for so long that they’d got suspicious and forced his hand by exaggerating his grandmother’s fall. He was the one who was tricked and fallen flat on his face.

Harry effing Potter had won over his relatives. Severus flinched as the automatic need to badmouth the boy almost took over, but he’d curtailed the urge. Potter had lived up to his side of the bargain. He’d been polite and courteous and had gone above and beyond what Severus asked of him.

If anything, it was Severus and his behaviour towards the boy that had tripped them up. Potter had even defended his hated teacher Nana Bea and the others. Severus was the one who’d continued to disparage and belittle the Potter – Harry – to everyone. It hadn’t even occurred to him at the time that he should try to spend time with Har-Pot – the boy to make it seem like he was trying to bridge the gap between father and son.

Severus snorted again and leaned his head back against the back of his chair.

His unwanted visitor knocked on his front door again, louder and more irately than before. Severus took a deep breath and yelled, “Leave me alone!”

Nana and his cousins had held an impromptu intervention. His last words regarding Potte – Harry had been to accuse the boy of telling tales.

“There comes a time, Severus, when you’ve got to take responsibility for your own actions,” Nana told him. “You’re not the only one who suffered, and as much as I understand the impact it’s had on you, it doesn’t behove you to think you’re the only one who has gone through this.”

“Nana, you don’t know the boy,” Severus protested.

“No, Severus,” Nana denied, “you don’t know the boy. I’m not sure what’s happened between you and Harry, but you’ve turned a blind eye to everything that boy is going through. I expected more from you.”

Though Alfred and Jacky had been sure Severus had lied about having a son, Potter’s behaviour made them believe it was true. They were shocked when Nana revealed that it was all an act, and disappointed. That’s what Nana and Harry must have been discussing when Severus found him in Nana’s room. He’d been right to be suspicious, but he was too tired and miserable to gloat about it. Besides, Severus had been wrong about so much more regarding Potter that being right about this one thing didn’t hold the same satisfaction.

Another knock intruded on his gloom, deafening and maddening.

Severus heaved himself from his chair with a frustrated grunt and stomped his way to the door, yanking it open and hissing, “I am clearly not in the mood for visitors, Narcissa. Stop knocking and get lost!”

“Move aside,” Narcissa said as she gave him an unimpressed look.

Severus stubbornly blocked her way, refusing her entry.

“What do you want? You’ve already let me know the boy is safe at school.”

It had surprised him when he’d come out of the Dining room to see that Potter had left with the Malfoys. And if Bartholomew hadn’t handed Severus a note from Lucius, he might have gone tearing after them. Potter was his responsibility, and Albus would have killed him if something had happened to Potter. When he returned to his house in Liverpool, Severus had sent a note to inform the Headmaster of his return and queried Potter’s presence in the school. Dumbledore had confirmed Harry was safe at Hogwarts, and Severus felt like he could wallow in peace.

“Let me in,” Narcissa said, just as stubbornly.

Severus lost the battle of wills, and exasperatedly moved aside to allow her entry.

He stalked back to his chair, but before he could sit down, Narcissa said, “You look awful.”

“Pleasure to see you too,” Severus said sarcastically.

“I lost my manners when you made me stand outside for twenty minutes instead of answering the door in a civilised manner,” Narcissa snapped.

Severus opened his mouth to argue back, but she whipped out her wand and pointed it threateningly at his face.

“Go take a shower, Severus,” she ordered. “You look like you’ve not had one since Merlin knows how long.”

Since Christmas Eve, Severus filled silently, conceding to Narcissa’s point. Without arguing, he took off upstairs to clean up.

By the time he came back downstairs, cleaned and in fresh clothes, Narcissa had cast a Freshening Charm, sprayed something that smelled like lemon around the room, made tea and was sitting in his favourite chair perusing through one of the books, forcing him to sit on the sofa instead.

“You finally found the rest of the Alchemy books,” Narcissa commented, replacing said book on the table.

“I didn’t,” Severus admitted. “They were gifted to me.”

By Potter. In all the hubbub with his thousand-pound cheque to Sarah, Severus never managed to open his final present from Potter. When he’d gotten around to unwrapping it upon returning to Liverpool, his first reaction was anger, believing Potter had stolen it from his house. He’d even rushed to his library to check what else Potter might have taken from him. Only to have his anger fizzle out when he saw his original copies exactly where he’d left them. He heard Nana’s voice in his head, expressing her disappointment in him once again.

Potter must have spent a fortune buying gifts for Severus and his family. Not to mention the fact that he’d bought everyone something according to their interest in some way. Even Severus.

The books themselves were not priceless or worth all that much in monetary value – just difficult to find. Severus regularly scoured the used bookshops in Diagon and Knockturn Alleys and those in the lesser-known Alleys in London to find these books.

Yet, Potter had somehow found every single book in one place. If Severus wasn’t already feeling miserable, he’d be annoyed at Potter’s luck in doing yet another thing in one day that he hadn’t accomplished in eighteen years.

“At least your collection is complete now,” Narcissa smiled.

Severus nodded as he reached for the cup of tea Narcissa had prepared.

“Why are you here, Narcissa?” he asked wearily.

“Lucius and I were worried about you,” Narcissa answered.

“Is that why you gate-crashed my family dinner?” he said pointedly.

“That might have been for the sake of entertainment,” Narciss admitted wryly. “We are sorry for the way it turned out. Neither of us meant for you to be...”

“Ganged up on by my family for being a horrible liar?” Severus finished dryly.

“Well, you brought that on yourself,” Narcissa told him without sympathy.

Severus sighed and sipped on his tea, unable to argue.

“What did they say?”

Severus sighed again before eventually answering, “Nana apologised for her part in making me feel I had to lie to her about having a girlfriend and a son. She just didn’t want to see me alone and miserable.”

Like Iain Baker, he added silently. Though he’d learned enough about their neighbour to know that the man hadn’t always been like that.

“Did you find out what they meant about Harry?”

Severus remained silent in that regard. His family had defended Potter the whole time. He, Alfred and Jacqueline had gone through hell with their respective fathers. He’d prided himself on his observational skills. He’d helped many students who had gone through a similar experience to himself. But he’d missed it with Potter because he’d been so sure the boy was just like his father.

“If you’re too blind to see Harry for who he is, then you don’t deserve to be a teacher,” Alfred said. “I would even go as far as saying he’s lucky you’re not his father.”

Severus never wanted children of his own. Yet, it had inexplicably hurt to have his cousin imply he wouldn’t be a good father.

“Not in so many words,” Severus eventually broke the silence. His family hadn’t wanted to break Potter’s confidence. They’d managed to convince him that Potter needed to be taken away from his current guardians, who Severus knew were his muggle relatives; Lily’s sister Petunia and her husband. Severus had nothing to do with Petunia after falling out with Lily in their fifth year; therefore, he had not met the man fool enough to marry her either.

Perhaps he could correct that now, he thought to himself.

ooOoo

Some months later

“Potter, stay behind,” Severus called out as the students began packing their belongings at the end of class.

Harry froze briefly before calmly packing his bag. Harry’s friends give him questioning looks, but the boy gave them a shrug, indicating he didn’t know the reason he was being kept.

It hadn’t been easy letting go of his preconceptions about Harry Potter. It had been more than three months since Harry joined him and his family in Marple. It had been just as hard to open up to his cousins, and he could see the effort they were making to know him as well. The letters they exchanged were more frequent. Nana had even included several more photographs she’d taken with the camera Harry got her for Christmas.

Draco shot Harry a questioning look as he closed his bag, but Harry gave him the same neutral shrug he gave his friends. Realising the boy didn’t know anything, Draco looked at Severus instead, who simply raised a brow. Draco rolled his eyes and walked out with his friends.

The thawing in the rivalry between Harry and Draco still left Severus bemused. And that’s all it was, a thawing. Neither boy socialised with the other as a rule, but the hostilities, at least, were under a cease-fire. It helped immensely that the Malfoys had dropped their lawsuit to have Buckbeak, the hippogriff, executed.

Sirius Black had been found innocent at his trial but had been recovering in St Mungos. Narcissa and Andromeda were his most regular visitors, though Lucius told him that Black asked after Harry regularly, the boy in question had been more cautious in his correspondence with his godfather. Severus was still reconciling himself with the fact that he would have to spend time with Black in some capacity, as the man would be released into the custody of Narcissa for the foreseeable future after he was discharged from St Mungos.

A court-ordered Mind-Healer was working with Black to help patch his mind back together. Narcissa was very strict about this condition and suggested that Severus look for one for himself. Surprisingly, Severus hadn’t dismissed the suggestion immediately, though he had yet to look for a Mind-Healer who would suit his needs.

“Take a seat,” Severus said, indicating the chair at the front.

Reluctantly, Harry stepped to the front and took the suggested seat and couldn’t hide his surprise when Severus pulled a chair closer to sit opposite the boy instead of sitting behind his desk. He hadn’t wanted to loom over the boy.

Unthinkingly, Severus reached into the inside pocket of his robe and then realised Harry was tracking the movement of his hand.

He’d missed all these indications and didn’t blame his family for being upset with him.

Making sure to slow his movements, Severus carefully withdrew the envelope from his pocket and placed it on the desk between him and the boy.

Harry gave him a wary look before looking at the envelope properly.

He pulled it to himself, a genuine smile lighting up his face as he read the name, Maya Rogers.

As he traced the address, written in emerald green ink, with his fingers, Severus realised he’d not seen Harry smile this openly since Christmas with his family. Harry had been subdued since Christmas day. Narcissa and Lucius were working hard to win Harry’s trust. As was Black, from what Narcissa told him.

Dumbledore told Harry at the end of the winter holidays that he would not return to the Dursleys. Dumbledore had taken Harry to the Infirmary on the last day of the holidays, asked Poppy to perform a complete medical history and then used it as evidence to have Harry removed from his muggle relatives’ custody.

From what Dumbledore told him, the Dursleys denied the abuse (of course, they would) but hadn’t argued regarding the custody.

Dumbledore had then asked Harry about his view on where he wanted to stay, if he had a particular guardian in mind, offering several possibilities, including the Malfoys and Sirius Black.

Harry hadn’t given his answer yet, even though several months had passed.

Given everything Harry had been through with the Dursleys, whose address Dumbledore was still holding hostage, it wasn’t surprising to see Harry so reluctant to put his faith in other people. Nana had worked hard to gain Severus’s trust. Severus might have worked with other students under his care to ensure they found a safe home, but he’d have to work harder with Harry to overcome their previous animosity. Especially as he knew he was the source of that animosity.

It took him several moments to realise, too wrapped up in Harry’s smile, which he’d not seen for months, that Harry hadn’t expressed any surprise at finding out Maya was a witch.

“You knew already?” Severus asked, pointing out the obvious.

Harry’s smile faded, to Severus’s dismay. He put down Maya’s letter and pushed it towards Severus without looking at him.

He thought furiously.

“Iain Baker,” he said, comprehension dawning. “It was Maya’s accidental magic, not yours.”

Harry shrugged.

Severus guiltily remembered his reaction when he realised magic had been used and the way his cousins had defended Harry against Severus.

“I apologise,” Severus said stiffly. Ask for forgiveness was difficult for him still, but he understood he wouldn’t get very far with Harry, or any of his family, without showing a little humility.

Harry looked at him with surprise. It was probably the first time an adult had apologised to him. Harry didn’t otherwise acknowledge his apology; instead, he asked, “Why are you telling me?”

Severus sat up straighter.

“I shall be visiting my family this Sunday – in the afternoon.” At Harry’s questioning look, he confirmed, “All of them.”

Harry nodded, still looking confused.

“I was – ” he cleared his throat, “the headmaster -  You are welcome to join.”

Instead of looking elated, a blank look settled on the boy’s face.

“I have no reason to be there. Sir.”

Before Severus could say anything to assure Harry, the boy hurriedly stood, picking up his bag in the same instance.

“Can I go?”

He didn’t wait for an answer and rapidly exited the classroom, leaving Severus with a pained expression he didn’t see in his haste to leave.

He’d been trying to say that Dumbledore had given permission for Severus to take Harry with him. He didn’t even get to tell Harry that his family would be happy to see the boy.

His cousins knew that Harry was a student at his school, so their letters to Severus always enquired after Harry, though they hadn’t sent any additional letters since their initial letter to smooth over the last day’s mishap. He wished he knew what was going through the boy’s mind and help smooth over any fears, but understood that the trust wasn’t there yet.

As evidenced just now, Severus couldn’t even speak to the boy normally without stuttering and sounding stilted. It probably made the boy question the sincerity of his offer.

ooOoo

Severus knocked on the front door, waiting nervously for it to be opened. The whole family would be here at his request. The surprise had practically leapt from the pages that he, Severus, was voluntarily asking for a meeting.

Had it been Jacqueline or any of her children visiting, they would not even need to knock. They all had keys to the house and could walk in whenever they felt. Had Severus had a closer relationship, he could have dropped by unannounced time he wished, and no one would have batted an eye.

Andrew opened the door, greeted Severus with awkward courtesy and stepped aside to allow him entry.

“How have you been, Andrew?” Severus asked, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

The boy looked surprised at the question but answered with a shrug and a muttered, “Fine.”

Severus nodded and allowed the boy to lead the way back to the Sitting room. Instead of sitting down, Andrew headed to the kitchen, where it seemed he wasn’t alone. Nana, instead of her wheelchair, sat on a reclining sofa that looked new, with a blanket wrapped around her legs. She looked healthier than he’d last seen her. Not that there was anything wrong with her last time, apparently. He found that he wasn’t angry at being lied to, not when he’d been telling bigger lies for longer.

It was his turn to come clean.

After the stilted greetings, Severus enquired about Jacqueline’s baby.

“Nana said you had a boy?” Severus half asked.

“Yes,” Jacqueline smiled even though she looked weary. “We named him Damon. Barry’s just put him down to sleep in the den.”

Severus knew nothing else about babies, so that conversation went no further.

“All right, Severus, what announcement have you gathered us all for today?” Jacqueline asked, looking mildly curious, once everyone had been called to the Sitting room. “Are you getting married for real this time?”

Gloria snorted in laughter which she quickly stifled as if wary of offending Severus.

“No,” Severus said, unable to sit down. He stood in front of the fire, which wasn’t lit, given the time of the year, feeling like he was about to give a presentation. “There’s no simple way to explain this. So I’m just going to give this to Maya.”

He quickly reached into his jacket and pulled out her Hogwarts letter before passing it to her.

Jacqueline sighed almost exasperatedly, “Look, Severus, I know we’ve all promised to make an effort with each other, but you seriously don’t need to call for a family gathering every time you want to present the children with their birthday money.”

Severus couldn’t fault his cousin for thinking that, seeing as he never usually put in any effort in selecting anything personal for anyone but Nana.

“It’s not- I understand why you might think that, but Maya’s – here, just… Please, read that letter.”

Severus had delivered letters to several muggle-born students as part of his duty as Head of Slytherin. He had his introduction to the Wizarding world down pat, knowing precisely what he needed to say to get the child’s parents to understand that it wasn’t some joke and that their child wasn’t weird. However, explaining to his family, who’d hidden a significant part of his life from, was a different beast altogether. He purposely didn’t look at Nana, focussing solely on Maya.

Self-consciously, Maya opened the envelope from Severus.

“The paper feels weird,” she commented, flushing under the attention.

“It’s called parchment,” Severus explained.

Jacqueline leaned over her daughter’s shoulder to read the letter along with her.

“Is this a joke, Severus?” Jacqueline said, snatching the letter from Maya’s hand. She stood up to confront Severus.

Alfred stood up, looking ready to jump in, and Severus was reminded of Christmas Day in the den when they both banded together.

“It’s not a joke,” Severus hastened to assure his cousins.

“Jacky,” Nana admonished. “Let’s hear Severus out. What does the letter say?”

“It says that Maya’s a witch,” Jacqueline snarled. “Some crap about buying wands and cauldrons and pointy hats and a special school.”

“It’s not a joke,” Severus repeated, feeling vulnerable as his heart hammered. He needed this meeting to go well. Not for himself, but for Maya. He knew what it felt like to be rejected by a parent for having magic, and he couldn’t let that happen with Maya.

“Severus,” Jacqueline began to say.

“I’m a wizard, Jacky,” Severus added quickly.

They looked at him in surprise, but not for the reason he thought. Severus never used the diminutive version of his cousin’s name in the past, always falling on formality and using her full name.

“I can prove it all to you,” he said.

“Harry,” Maya said suddenly. “You’re Harry’s teacher. Is Harry a witch too?”

“Wizard,” Severus corrected. “We’re wizards. Girls are witches.”

“Is he?” Maya persisted.

“Yes. In fact,” Severus said, suddenly remembering the letter Harry had slipped under his office door last evening, “he’s sent a letter.”

He pulled it out and passed it to Maya, who snatched much more eagerly than she did her Hogwarts letter.

“What does it say?” Jacky prompted.

“He – It – Before Harry left, I asked him if he would come back. Harry promised we would see each other next year. That’s what his letter says. I told you we’d meet again next year,” she read.

Something about the phrasing struck Severus, but before he could press further, Jacky interrupted, “Listen, Severus, we loved having Harry for Christmas, and he’s more than welcome to stay with us any time he wands. He’s a lovely lad, but you can’t keep using him to trick us.”

“I’m not trying to trick you,” Severus argued. “I promise this is real.”

“Severus,” Jacky pressed, “you lied to us about having a wife and son and to try and convince us, you used Harry to pretend to be your son. And now you’re trying to convince Maya that she’s a wizard –”

“Witch,” Severus corrected.

“-but yet again,” she continued, ignoring the interruption, “you’re using Harry to convince us. That’s not on. That’s not fair to Maya. Do you know how much she adores Harry?”

“I’m not lying,” Severus said desperately. “I can prove it to you.”

“Jacky,” Barry interrupted before the woman could argue further, “let him prove it. Come on. Sit down.”

Jacky flounced back to the sofa, protectively pulling her daughter close.

“Go ahead, Severus,” Barry prompted. “Prove you’re a wizard and have magic.”

Alfred took his seat as well.

Severus took a deep breath and pulled out his wand from the holster hidden in his sleeve.

“What’s that?” Brian asked.

“It’s a stick,” Jacky scoffed.

“My wand,” Severus answered. “Witches and wizards use it to cast spells.”

He pointed it at the coffee table, transfiguring it into a rabbit.

“Marley,” Alexandra yelled, rushing to the transfigured version of her beloved pet.

“Not quite,” Severus said regretfully and reversed it.

Jaws dropped at the sight of the rabbit and stayed there as it disappeared.

“Marley?” Alexandra cried.

Alfred quickly pulled his daughter onto his lap to soothe her. Severus held back a wince. Perhaps having some of the younger children around might not have been such a good idea.

“Was that our rabbit?”

“That was a magical copy of your rabbit,” Severus clarified.

“Not our real rabbit?” Alfred checked.

“The real Marley never left the rabbit hutch,” Severus explained. “I needed something definitive to show you I’m not lying or delusional, and I felt that was the easiest way.”

His cousins and their spouses exchanged confused and helpless glances.

“Perhaps you need to explain from the beginning,” Alfred sighed. “You’ve been hiding quite a bit from us.”

Severus explained as much as he could, starting with the school, giving a brief history of the school and the Houses, as if this was like any other muggle-born visit.

Then he explained the Statute of Secrecy and the Ministry.

“Your lot has a government?” Barry asked incredulously.

Severus explained a little more about the Ministry but quickly moved back to talking about the school and its classes.

Even the adults asked interested questions, showing their excitement when he explained about unicorns and dragons.

“You have dragons and unicorns at the school?” Maya asked excitedly.

“No dragons, no,” Severus said. “There are special reserves for dragons. They need space and special care, and plenty of privacy. The closest dragon reserve is hidden under many enchantments in Wales. As for unicorns, yes. There is a herd of them in the Forbidden Forest, which, as the name suggests, is absolutely forbidden to the students.”

“Then how do we get to see the unicorns?” Maya asked dejectedly.

“In your third year, you would get to choose out of several electives. One of which is Care of Magical creatures. It’s in this class that you will get to visit the herd, or rather a few specimens will be brought out to the students to study them.”

Severus quickly moved on to explain about Diagon Alley, the magical shopping district located in London, the bank run by goblins, (“Real goblins!” Brian exclaimed), wizarding currency and the current exchange rate.

Maya wasn’t particularly interested in Herbology, or Potions, when it came to it. She’d been more impressed with the wand magic classes, so Severus tried not to feel offended when she didn’t query that more.

Sarah, on the other hand- “So, you don’t teach Chemistry?”

“Potions would be a mix of Chemistry and Biology,” Severus explained, unknowingly becoming more passionate as he talked about the topic.

“I’m really going to be a witch?” Maya asked with a little disbelief.

“You are a witch,” Severus affirmed. “You just need training.”

“I’m going to be a witch,” Maya repeated. “Mum?”

“You heard him, honey. You’re a witch!”

Suddenly she erupted into excited shrieks and began to bounce around. Severus found himself smiling but also looked around to see everyone else’s reaction. As a child himself, he’d not given any attention to Petunia’s jealousy, not that he would have cared anyway, when he’d told Lily she was a witch. However, as an adult and a teacher, he needed to look out for this sort of thing. Unfortunately, even from his own family.

Thankfully, none of them seemed to be displaying any jealousy yet. It just meant he needed to keep an eye on the situation.

Having said that, he felt a great burden lift from him after revealing the secret that he’d kept for so many years. It felt good to finally be able to share this with his family, and wished he’d trusted them with it sooner.

He handed over various pamphlets for Maya and the family to read. One was practically a short book.

“It explains a lot,” Alfred said to Severus after the children had disappeared excitedly to read through the literature.

“I suppose, given how big a secret it is, I understand why Tobias never returned to the family,” Jacky agreed. Then continuing more softly, “Is that why he hurt you?”

Severus took a deep breath before answering, “That’s the excuse he used.”

He found nothing but understanding in his cousin’s eyes. They had been through the same thing as him with their own father.

“You’ll look after my baby, won’t you, Severus?” Jacky implored.

“I will,” he promised. “She won’t be alone.”

Severus didn’t know his family as well as he thought he did. If he had paid more attention, then he might have suspected that Maya was a witch sooner. Might have revealed his secret sooner. He refused to dwell on it, though. However, as much as he would be proud to have Maya in his House, Slytherin would be difficult for her. No matter that Severus was her uncle, she would be a muggle-born in the House of Snakes, and they were an unforgiving lot.

Change was slow to come in Slytherin, and he’d been navigating through that House for the better part of twenty years, give or take. They might back off because she was Severus’s family, and he knew Draco would look out for her as well, but they couldn’t watch her all the time.

Maya would be better off in another House where she could freely make friends and not worry about navigating the internal politics of the snake pit.

She’d even be better in Gryffindor. Now that was something he’d never thought he’d ever admit.

“There are still a few things we need to clear up,” Alfred said, giving his cousin an implacable look.

Severus nodded agreeably. “I’ll answer what I can.”

“Why do you hate Harry?” Jacky asked bluntly.

“I don’t hate him,” Severus disagreed. Then, at his cousin’s mulish expression, he added, “Anymore.”

He sighed when he realised they wouldn’t let this go. Harry had won his family over in a short period, and truth be told, he envied the boy his ability to do what Severus struggled with for so many years. James Potter had been charming and charismatic. Even when Potter was caught in the act, he managed to talk his way out of it with minimal punishment. Severus had found that unfair, having felt like he was often punished for being the victim.

Lily had been on his side for much of what he’d gone through during their time at Hogwarts, yet in an effort to impress the influential purebloods, he’d pushed away the only person who’d genuinely care for him.

Severus had a pleasant two and a half years where he could blame Harry for the sins of his father. He’d even felt vindicated every time Dumbledore forgave Harry his transgressions, letting him off with a light punishment, much like his father before him.

Had it not been for Nana’s eye-opening words and frank conversation on Christmas day, Severus would have returned to Hogwarts without any change of opinion of Potter whatsoever. And because of Nana’s words, and his cousins’ aggressive defence of Harry, Severus had spent the rest of the break contemplating his own behaviour. He’d spent the last few months truly observing Harry and was saddened to see that he had so much damage to undo if he wanted to push forward and forge a better relationship.

He’d been so busy hating Harry for his father that he’d deliberately ignored any likeness Harry had to Lily. And to himself.

“I was wrong to treat Harry as I did,” Severus began to explain. His family were determined to make Harry a part of his family, and he realised that if he’d been a better friend to Lily from the beginning, Harry would have known Severus’s family sooner. “I’m not excusing my own behaviour, but Harry’s father and I were – well, rivals would be a mild term to apply to James Potter. Harry looks so much like his father, that I – I convinced myself they were one and the same.”

Jacky looked like she would press the issue, but Nana’s hand on her wrist stopped her.

“But you’ve realised how wrong that kind of thinking was,” Nana pointedly told him.

“I have,” he promised.

“What made you choose Harry, in that case?” Gloria asked.

“He wasn’t my first choice,” Severus admitted. To their amusement, he explained about his mad scramble to find the right boy to cast in the role of his son and how he’d almost chosen a student from his own House and how disappointed he was that the boy wasn’t available. He explained why Dumbledore made him pick Harry, and to his own surprise, downplayed the boy’s penchant for rule-breaking that had had him slathering in anger at the time.

It only occurred to him as he was telling the story, even after everything that happened, why exactly Harry had agreed to accompany his hated professor to spend Christmas with an unknown family.

At the time, he’d put it down to wanting to escape punishment for being out of bounds without permission and wanting to keep his position on the Quidditch team. Perhaps that had played a part in it. Severus had planned on using those detentions to make the boy miserable. Which Harry expected, given their antagonistic relationship.

Had Dumbledore not given Harry the option and forced Severus to take the boy to visit with his family, Harry would have returned to his aunt and uncle. Instead of getting the pampering and perfect Christmas that Severus had expected, Harry would have endured much abuse, forced to cook and clean and still probably get beaten. Only to return to the school and endure more abuse from his teacher in the form of detention and a ban from his only form of escapism, Quidditch.

In fact, the whole time Harry stayed in Marple, he had modelled his behaviour, learned from the Dursleys, and applied with the Snapes by cooking and cleaning for them.

The more he thought about it, the more dismal he felt.

“Harry was a good choice,” Nana affirmed with an impish smile, oblivious to Severus’s thoughts. “Perhaps one day you and Harry will become what you pretended to be.”

Severus realised with genuine disappointment that most likely wouldn’t happen. And it was all his own fault. Severus knew he was the one who’d set a precedent for their antagonistic relationship since the first class. The boy had offered a cheeky comment after he was unable to answer the questions that were unrealistic of anyone in the boy’s position. The laughter that followed the comment had cemented the boy’s likeness to James Potter in Severus’s mind, and thus their relationship only went downhill from there. He recognised now that the boy had never asked for any special favours, but it had still made him angry at the time when he’d not turned down the opportunities presented to him. Which, he now realised, was silly of him to expect the boy to do. No one in their right mind would turn down to play Quidditch, not with the passion and talent Harry had.

No, Severus didn’t think they could ever get to a stage where the boy might think of his Potions Master as family, as his father, but Severus would try damn hard to repair their relationship.

And the next Christmas would be better than the one just passed. Harry probably didn’t have any great expectations from spending the holidays with the Snape family, but Severus realised the boy had enjoyed himself. Up until Christmas Day, when everything suddenly seemed to have gone downhill.

This time, he vowed, he wouldn’t talk Harry down to his family, or let Harry do all the cooking and cleaning. Harry deserved a Christmas where he could enjoy being a normal teen. Nana had done that for Severus, and now it was his turn to pay it forward.

He allowed his family to pepper him with more questions, some about Harry, some about magic- to distract himself from his thoughts.

He realised it was the longest he’d spent with his cousins without leaning on Nana as a conversational crutch.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Alfred asked. “Or are you in a rush to go back?”

“That depends on who cooked,” Severus quipped to cover his surprise.

Jacky scowled and turned to Nana, sounding remarkably like one of the many teens he looked after, “I’m not that bad.”

Barry laughed, assuring Severus as he said, “Andrew’s taken over the kitchen since Christmas. He’s used up all his pocket money to buy various recipe books. Brian always knew he wanted to be a Vet like Alfred and me, but Andrew never felt any particular ambition calling to him. He’ll be finishing his GCSEs this year, but he’s looking for various cooking courses or experience in a restaurant environment after he finishes school.”

Severus agreed to stay for dinner, surprising himself by looking forward to it, even if the food turned out to be bad. It couldn’t be worse than Jacky’s. It was dinner with family, after all.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed. “I still have to give Maya her actual present.”

He decided to gift the girl something more personal than cash in an envelope for the first time. He gifted her a beautiful barn owl, which she promptly named Tweety, after a bird from a cartoon she watched.

And he was unsurprised to learn that her first letter was to Harry.

Severus ended up visiting his family once a fortnight after that afternoon. It pleased Dumbledore, though thankfully, the Headmaster didn’t gloat at the change in circumstances when Severus asked for regular time off.

He finally gathered the courage to ask Alfred and his family whether they would accept his offer of a thousand pounds towards Sarah’s education. Alfred had been wary of it, but at Gloria’s prompting and Sarah’s agreement, had given in.

Severus had carefully broached the offer for the other children as well and was prepared to argue his case. Barry had supported his offer, which had toppled any arguments from Jacky. Severus had been grateful to the other man for his support.

However, Severus held back from telling them their children would inherit from his will. That was a conversation for later down the line. Many, many years from now. For now, he was finally getting closer to his cousins and getting to know them all better.

ooOoo

Harry hadn’t intended to agree to live with the Malfoys. Truthfully, he still didn’t entirely trust them. Despite his tentative truce with Draco, he still expected the other boy to revert to his old ways at any given moment.

Harry simply held his side of the bargain by staying as far away from Draco as possible. Ron and Hermione still were confused at the turn of events. Ron was still suspicious of Draco and didn’t understand why Draco stopped antagonising them, and though Hermione was just as suspicious, seemed to appreciate the extra time she could direct towards her studies since the Malfoys dropped their case against Buckbeak.

All the students were just as confused at Snape’s sudden change in behaviour, particularly towards Harry. Everyone knew Snape hated Harry Potter. And though Harry knew why Snape wasn’t as caustic as he used to be, as with the Malfoys, he didn’t expect that change to last.

Still, things had changed at a head-turning speed since he’d come back from Marple on Christmas Day. Dumbledore finding out about the Dursleys was equally relieving as it was scary. Then he’d given Harry a choice to think about where he wanted to live. He’d been surprised that Dumbledore hadn’t just dumped him with the nearest person he thought was suitable, instead of letting Harry decide.

His first instinctive choice had been with Nana and the Snapes. Despite how he’d left on Christmas day, something he was ashamed of, he realised he’d loved it there, feeling like he’d fit right in.

Once the shock of Andrew’s words had worn off, Harry felt embarrassed by the dramatic way he’d left, without even properly saying goodbye to everyone. Especially after the way they’d welcomed him and defended him to Snape.

Dumbledore had given him letters from Nana and the family, in which they’d apologised. Andrew’s letter was particularly upsetting when Harry realised that the boy blamed himself for Harry leaving the way he did. Still, it was several weeks before Harry felt he could write back, sending Hedwig to Nana directly with letters for everyone, offering his own apologies.

Then Harry steadfastly put the whole family and subsequent events from his mind. He ignored Draco Malfoy where possible, acted like he didn’t know Snape was watching him, and pretended he didn’t have a godfather writing to him or that he had a monumental decision to make.

Until he could avoid it no longer. He knew it hurt Ron when Harry decided not to present the option of staying with the Weasleys, but truthfully it hadn’t even crossed his mind. As great as it was visiting the Weasleys during the summer and staying for a few weeks, Harry never felt like he was part of the family. He was just Ron’s friend who was only invited over because he had no family of his own. They knew the Dursleys didn’t treat Harry well, but not to the full extent. And Harry preferred it that way. They didn’t need to know. The Malfoys didn’t know either, but given how big Malfoy Manor was, according to Draco’s bragging, he’d at least be able to hide from them. He couldn’t hide from the Weasleys.

Things had been going well these last few months. Though he’d refused to accompany Snape to deliver Maya’s letter, he’d been pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from Maya and the others with the new owl gifted to her by her Uncle Severus.

And he was finally beginning to come around to the idea of his godfather. Sirius had his own demons to deal with, and Narcissa was really strict about him attending his therapy sessions and even made Harry keep regular appointments.

So, here he was, two weeks into the summer holidays, living with Sirius Black and the Malfoys. With his very own bedroom that Narcissa made him choose decorations for – from the rug on the floor to the light fixtures, from the wardrobes to the mattress, from the posters on the wall to the curtains on the windows – it had all been Harry’s choice.

Down the hall from Draco Malfoy.

A knock on the door jolted him from his musings.

“Come in,” he called.

Draco poked his head through.

“Mother said to get changed, if you haven’t already, and come down. Our guests have arrived at the gates, and the carriages will bring them down in a few minutes,” the blond told Harry.

“All right,” Harry nodded. He’d already changed into his new clothes. He just needed to put on shoes, which he began to do when he realised he wasn’t alone.

Draco loitered, looking nervous.

“What?” Harry asked, looking at Draco questioningly.

“I’ve never been around muggles before,” Draco admitted.

Harry could believe that. Until the past few months, Draco seemed to look down on all things muggle.

“You know Father kept volunteering me to be Uncle Sev’s son,” Draco confessed.

“Really?” Harry said sceptically, looking at Draco’s blond hair.

Seeing where his gaze was directed, Draco nodded rapidly.

“Father kept saying I should use a potion to dye my hair the right colour,” the other boy said with a flush.

Harry had nothing to say to that. He tied up his laces and stood up to check his hair. He brushed it slightly, but it fell back in place, so he gave it up as a bad job.

“I’ve not been around muggles before,” Draco repeated.

“So you’ve said,” Harry answered with a shrug, wondering what the boy wanted.

“What do I say to them?”

Harry turned around to deliver a sarcastic comment when he realised the blond was genuinely nervous.

“Why are you so concerned?”

“Because they’re Uncle Sev’s family. My parents know more about them because Uncle Sev talks to Mother and Father about them than me, but I know they’re important to him. I don’t want to let him down.”

Draco looked at him imploringly.

“And now one of his nieces is a witch, and I know my parents and Uncle Sev expect me to watch out for her when she starts at Hogwarts.”

Harry listened to Draco voice his concerns, amusement and confusion warring equally with each other. Draco was nervous about meeting Snape’s muggle family? Draco Malfoy? The same brat who called Ron a blood traitor and Hermione a mudblood?

Harry surreptitiously pinched himself and hid a wince when it hurt.

Seeming to catch his disbelief, Draco snaps, “Look, he’s my godfather, all right? And he cares about his family, and that means I should care about his family too. That’s what families do.”

Harry’s view of what it meant to be family was skewed because of the Dursleys, but with Ron’s family and Snape’s family, he’d begun to see how families should treat each other.

“Why are you telling me?”

“Well, you’ve grown up with muggles,” Draco muttered helplessly. “And you’ve met Uncle Sev’s family. What do I do?”

Harry stared at Draco contemplatively before answering.

“The only difference between you and them is that you have magic,” Harry finally answered. “They’re still people. Maya will be curious about Hogwarts, classes, and everything about the magical world. You just need to share your experience. Don’t treat her like an idiot, but also remember that you’ve grown up with magic, and she hasn’t. So you might take something for granted because that’s what you’ve always known, but it’s all new to Maya and the others. Just keep that in mind. And if you’re curious about how stuff works in the muggle world, ask them. Treat it like you’re experiencing a different culture.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully, seeming to take Harry seriously.

“We should go,” Draco suggested awkwardly. “Or Mother will barge up here to check on us.”

Harry took one last look in the mirror to check he looked.

No one was more surprised than Harry, except perhaps Sirius, when Lucius and Narcissa had extended an invitation to Snape’s muggle family to join them at Malfoy Manor – not just for dinner, but to stay for a whole week.

And Harry had been wholly surprised when he’d received Alfred and Jacky’s letter asking for his opinion on the matter. He’d ignored his first instinct to tell them to stay away from the Malfoys, but then he reminded himself that they should introduce themselves properly to the other people Snape found important.

Harry and Draco walked silently to the Main Hall, where Draco’s parents were already waiting with Sirius.

“Looking good, Harry,” Sirius said, looking a far cry from the spectre he’d become in Azkaban.

“You too,” Harry replied quietly.

He and Sirius had a long way to go before they could truly feel comfortable with each other.

Narcissa beckoned Draco over to her, at which point she immediately began brushing down non-existent lint and generally trying to tidy the fastidious boy’s appearance. She pushed Draco to stand by his father and moved on to Harry. He tensed under her hands as he always did, and was grateful that she never drew attention whenever this happened, simply continuing to treat him the same way she did Draco.

“You’ll both do,” she said in satisfaction.

Harry found himself exchanging a grin with Draco before their attention was drawn to the carriages being pulled by Lucius’s prized abaraxans. Both carriages came to a stop a short distance away from the staircase leading into the Manor.

Harry hid a smile at Jacky’s awed face he glimpsed through the carriage window. Snape was the first to alight, holding the carriage door open for the next person, who happened to be Nana. He carefully helped Nana descend down the carriage.

Lucius, as host, walked down first to greet their guests, with Narcissa following just a step behind. Harry waited a beat, wanting to go down as well, but felt it best to follow Draco’s direction. This was his home, and there seemed to be a formality that needed to be followed first.

It reminded him of how the Dursleys always greeted their guests, a sort of choreographed movement in which Vernon took the lead and Petunia followed up with a fake smile. The Malfoys seemed to live by formality from what Harry had observed thus far, and Harry couldn’t help but see the parallels between them and the Dursleys.

Both families had much in common if Harry sat down and compared them. Appearances seemed to matter to both. In public, there was a fakeness in their interactions, even with each other, but in private, they were softer with each other. As if they had no need for airs in the privacy of their homes.

The only discernible difference was in how Harry was treated. The Dursleys never bother pretending in private that Harry mattered in any way, whereas the Malfoys made an effort to include Harry in their activities. Draco might get impatient sometimes when Harry dug his heels in about something, but Lucius and Narcissa backed off.

With Sirius, however, Harry found understanding, even if the trust wasn’t there yet. Harry couldn’t fault anyone’s lack of effort in making Harry feel like part of the family. Narcissa and Sirius seemed to reminisce about their childhoods, having grown up in the same house. Neither was fond of their respective parents.

Sirius liked to insult Lucius, who had no issues with defending himself. Narcissa often had to intervene when things got too heated, which also meant that Sirius spent more time with his Mind-Healer.

Draco gently nudged him when Harry, startling him when he seemed to drift into his thoughts again. He followed the blond down the stairs as the others came out of the carriages. As he was closest to Nana, the woman immediately pulled him into a hug. Harry’s smile turned from polite to genuine as his arms went around her automatically.

“How have you been, Harry?” she asked.

“I’m better for seeing you, Nana,” Harry replied.

“Don’t keep him all to yourself, Nana,” Jacky grumbled over their heads.

Nana let Harry go, leaning on Snape, who kept close.

“Do you need your wheelchair, Nana?” the man asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Nana told him. “I’ve been sitting in the car for hours; I just need to stretch my legs for a little longer.”

Jacky pulled Harry into a hug also, holding him tight. Harry felt a lump in his throat that he tried to clear without anyone noticing.

“My turn,” said an impatient voice.

Jacky was immediately replaced with an eager Maya. She had to be peeled away forcefully, so Gloria could have her turn.

Barry was next, though as he was carrying his baby in a car seat, his hug was one-armed. Harry told himself he was being emotional when they all took turns greeting him with such genuine pleasure. He’d only been with them for a week, if that, but they treated him as if they’d known him for years, as if he was truly one of their own.

The Malfoys and Sirius watched patiently, having already gone through introductions with the whole family.

Lucius covered the awkwardness once everyone emotionally greeted Harry, by leaning close to Barry, peeking into the car seat, and asking, “Is that your newborn? May I carry him for you?”

“Oh – no – Barry, don’t,” Snape said, but it was too late as Barry had successfully completed the transfer of baby Damon to Lucius.

“What?” Barry asked in concern.

Snape sighed, “I hope you weren’t attached to your son. You may not get him back.”

“What?” Barry repeated in alarm.

“Nothing,” Narcissa glossed over, smoothing over any worries. “Severus is being funny. Lucius loves children.”

Lucius had relieved the baby from the car seat, which he left beside the carriage, cradling the baby expertly close to his chest.

“Severus isn’t known for his humour,” Jacky joked but seemed to watch closely.

“What’s his name?” Narcissa asked, looking at Lucius holding the boy, who seemed to have woken up now.

“Damon,” Barry supplied, hovering protectively around his newborn and maybe kidnapper.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful boy,” Narcissa smiled.

“Shall we head inside?” Lucius said without looking at anyone, attention still on the babe in his arms.

“What about our luggage?” Alfred asked in concern.

“Oh, the House Elves will take care of it,” Lucius said dismissively and strode back towards the stairs sweeping up into the manor.

“What’s a House-elf?” Jacky asked.

Snape quickly explained what House Elf was to everyone and asked them to keep an open mind when it came to understanding the Master/Servant bond.

“I’ve never seen a mansion before,” Brian said, looking nervously around the place.

“It’s not a mansion,” Lucius corrected as they caught up to him. “It’s a manor. Been in the family for generations.”

“Right,” Brian nodded. “A manor. Of course.”

Sirius snorted in laughter.

“Just treat it like a house that’s been magically expanded,” Harry said.

“You mean it’s bigger on the inside?” Sarah questioned. “Like the Tardis?”

“You watch Doctor Who?” Sirius asked brightly, sidling up closer to the girl in question.

“You’ve seen Doctor Who?” Harry said incredulously.

“Lily introduced your father and me to the show,” Sirius answered enthusiastically.

Harry was aware of the Doctor Who phenomenon but had never been allowed to watch the show. As it was science based (in the Dursley’s eyes), it was more acceptable for Dudley to watch than something like the show called Bewitched, which was all about magic and witches.

“Of course, I’m about twelve years behind the show. I couldn’t tell you the name of the actor playing the Doctor back then or any of the storylines, but I remember I enjoyed it.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Harry admitted.

“We have some of the episodes on VHS,” Alfred told Harry and his godfather. “I’m sure we can arrange for an evening at the farm and make a marathon of it.”

“So it begins,” said Gloria as she good-naturedly rolled her eyes.

Turning to her guests, Narcissa said, “Nana, I’ve arranged for a room on the ground floor for you to save you from climbing the staircases, but the rest of the family have been given rooms on the first floor. I do hope that’s okay? Your luggage has already been taken up. Travelling the non-magical way can be draining, I’ve heard. Perhaps you’d like a chance to freshen up?”

No one disagreed.

Lucius insisted on carrying Damon as he led Snape’s family to their rooms in the same wing as Harry. Harry suspected the detoured tour Lucius gave his guests was so he could hold the baby for longer. He seemed reluctant to hand Damon back to his parents upon reaching their designated rooms. Damon’s car seat and luggage were already delivered to their rooms.

The children were given the option of their own rooms or sharing with their siblings. Andrew and Brian opted to bunk together, but the others were enthusiastic about having their own rooms. As big as the farm was, with ample space for their many pets and patients, and the house itself was big enough, it did get crowded with so many people.

Harry pointed out his own room before leaving to let everyone settle in. He was alone for a few minutes before hearing a knock on the door.

“Andrew? What’s up? Did you need something?” Harry asked as he opened the door, wondering if maybe there weren’t enough towels or if they wanted extra bedding. He thought the House Elves had already sorted everything out, but perhaps not.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Andrew said, looking nervous. “Can I come? Please?”

Harry stepped aside to allow the other boy to enter.

“What’s wrong?”

“We weren’t using you to make our food for us,” Andrew blurted out before Harry even closed the door.

“I know,” Harry said quietly. Even though they’d already exchanged letters weeks after the initial incident, he still felt terrible about his own behaviour in reaction to overhearing Andrew’s words. “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. It was rude and ungrateful.”

“It wasn’t,” Andrew insisted. “You were upset. Listen, I’m still not sure what all went on. Mum and Dad still haven’t properly explained.”

Before Harry could try to explain, Andrew quickly continued, “I don’t care that you’re not related to us by blood. None of us does. You’re still family.”

Harry smiled faintly.

“Mum and Dad have found a new house,” Andrew said randomly.

Harry nodded. Though he’d never visited Jacky’s home, he’d been told it was small. Only two bedrooms upstairs, technically, which made things difficult for a family of five. It was only because they’d converted the attic into a serviceable bedroom for the twins many years ago that they’d managed to stay there for as long as they had.

They knew they couldn’t stay there for much longer with another baby, so they had spent the better part of the past twelve months house-hunting. During his stay, the twins joked that they hadn’t found a place because their mother was picky about finding a kitchen big enough to fit all her jam-making equipment and thousands of jars. However, with Andrew’s interest in cooking and baking, they were both particular about having a decent-sized kitchen.

“That’s good,” Harry commented. “Got enough room for the jars, then?”

Andrew didn’t respond to Harry’s joke, instead saying, “It’s got an extra bedroom. For you.”

Harry looked at the older boy in surprise.

“Don’t let on to Mum and Dad that you know,” Andrew added hurriedly. “It’s a surprise. But I just wanted you to know that if – when you come to visit, we don’t expect you to cook or clean. I’ve been learning all that. But I was still hoping you could teach me. You don’t even have to move from the kitchen table. You can sit and tell me what to do.”

Harry swallowed, unable to respond immediately.

Andrew seemed to understand how much that meant to Harry.

“You won’t tell Mum and Dad I told you, will you?”Andrew looked genuinely worried that Harry might let slip that he knew of the surprise.

He took a deep breath and promised, “I’ll pretend I know nothing. And sitting at the table and telling what to do sounds a lot like Sn- your uncle’s way of teaching.”

“Yeah?” Andrew cracked a grin.

“Well,” Harry amended, “he stalks around the classroom and insults us dunderheads about our intelligence.”

“Really?” Andrew asked, his face slipping into a concerned expression.

“Maybe not so much anymore,” Harry shrugged.

Truthfully, Snape had become better at teaching. He still stalked but was less insulting. Harry felt that without the man acting like Aunt Petunia, he could concentrate better on the subject. He’d probably never be a Potions Master, but he would pass his exams without issue.

Harry could see the other was making an effort and felt he should try and reciprocate.

“Maybe we could exchange some recipes whilst you’re here,” Harry offered.

Andrew brightened up, looking grateful. “Do you think Mr and Mrs Malfoy will let us use the kitchen? I have this killer brownie recipe I’m dying to try out.”

“Maybe,” Harry said dubiously. “The House Elves might not like it, though. They’re very protective of their chores. And their territory.”

Harry had found that out the hard way.

“Really?”

Harry shrugged again, “We can ask.”

“Great,” Andrew said happily. Then with a sombre but friendly smile, he added, “You made a difference with all of us. You should know that. We all care about you.”

“You made a difference to me too,” Harry admitted.

ooOoo

It took two days and a boatload of convincing, but the House Elves allowed Harry and Andrew into the kitchen, on the condition that they share their recipes. As a concession to the House Elves, the boys use as many dishes as possible to create more work. This might have delighted the House Elves, but it created a deep-seated anxiety in Harry, who constantly had to remind himself to not wash each pan or spoon or whatever as he went along. There were some things he still needed to unlearn from living with the Dursleys.

Andrew made his brownie recipe, having to multiply the recipe by four to ensure everyone got some – including the House Elves. Especially when Harry told him what the average witch or wizard’s consumption was. Harry wasn’t there yet, but Narcissa was working on getting Harry’s appetite to rival Draco’s.

Harry also made his fudge double chocolate cake and custard, which he made from scratch to go with it. Sunny, the head kitchen elf, said she could add several different ice cream flavours to go with the cake.

Though a little wary of the funny-looking creatures, Andrew was delighted when the elves shared their own tips and tricks to add flavour to their food. Suffice to say, he couldn’t wait to go home to try some chicken and lemon recipes the House Elves shared.

The rest of the family took advantage of the swimming pool the Malfoys had at the back of the house. Though they hadn’t brought their swimwear with them, that was easily taken care of with some nifty transfiguration work.

The sky was clear, but the Malfoys had a canopy that enveloped the pool area. They might occasionally get an odd yet pleasant breeze, but the harsh weather was kept out, which came in handy if they decided to use the pool in winter.

“Shouldn’t we get Damon back from Lucius?” Barry asked his wife, who seemed to be too relaxed.

Since their arrival at Malfoy Manor, Damon spent very little time in either his car seat or the arms of his own parents. If Lucius didn’t insist on holding baby Damon, then Narcissa or Sirius fought over the child.

Recalling Narcissa’s words on the hardships they’d endured with conceiving Draco, he could imagine it might have been difficult for them to part with the baby. Draco seemed equal parts fascinated and anxious when it came to holding the baby. He’d also picked up a shadow in Bethany. Where Maya spent the most time with Harry, Bethany followed Draco everywhere. Draco practically preened under her adoring attention and had taken Harry’s words to heart. Rather than being condescending when explaining the wizarding culture to the younger girl, Draco took the time to answer all her questions.

Currently, Draco was holding court with Bethany and the others at the far end of the pool as he enthusiastically explained about the upcoming Quidditch world cup.

“Aren’t you coming to the pool, Harry?” Brian beckoned from the shallow end.

Harry was in swimming shorts and a tee, sitting on a lounger between Nana and Alfred.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Harry called back. “You go ahead.”

He’d never learned how to swim. The Dursleys had made up excuses as to why he couldn’t attend with the rest of class; Harry couldn’t remember what they were now. Hogwarts didn’t have a pool at all. Besides all that, Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to learn. Andrew and Brian had eagerly shed their tees and jumped in the pool. 

Brian looked like he was going to insist, but Jacky sat up from her lounger and firmly said, “He’ll come in when he’s ready, Brian.”

With a deliberate casualness, Alfred stood up, took off his tee, and placed it on the chair he’d just vacated. Harry stared at the scars on the man’s back, so similar to his own.

“When you’re ready, Harry,” Alfred said calmly and walked to the pool’s edge without further word.

Unbidden, a memory comes to him of Christmas Day, of Jacky placing her hand on Nana’s back and her words to the elderly woman.

“Harry’s one of us.”

“Jacky has those scars, too,” Nana interrupted his thoughts. “So does Severus.”

“Is that why …” he trailed off.

In all the letters he’d exchanged with Nana over the last few months, Harry never envisioned that they knew. It was stupid, he knew. He should have suspected. Did they all know?

Seeming to read his mind, Nana assured him, “Maya saw your scars and told Jacky. Jacky told us.”

“You tried to protect me from Snape,” Harry said with a dry mouth.

That’s why Maya had clung to him all day, barely let him out of sight. And Alfred and Jacky? They had been ready to kick Snape out of their house. For Harry.

“We didn’t tell Severus about your scars,” Nana said. “But we might have asked him to look into your placement with your relatives. And I wrote to your headmaster.”

And Dumbledore made him go to Madam Pomfrey, Harry realised.

“No one else, Harry,” Nana said quietly. “I promise, we’ve no one else. The children don’t know.”

It took precious seconds for those words to penetrate his mind. Though he was unhappy so many people knew his secret, he was glad that Andrew and the others didn’t know. And another overwhelming feeling that overcame him was gratitude. That someone had finally noticed Harry for himself and not what he’d tried to project. That someone believed him about the Dursleys and helped him.

When he first agreed to accompany Snape for Christmas, he simply tried to make the best of a bad situation. He never expected to find a family, but looking around, it dawned on him that a family had found him.

He wasn’t unhappy here, though he still felt like it would take a while for it to sink in that he would never have to go back to the Dursleys.

“You can trust us,” Nana assured him.

Harry tried to relax, but he was still taking it all in. Snape’s family knew his secret and kept it for him. In fact, they embraced him because of it. Had even been willing to exile Snape over it.

Since Christmas break, Snape had changed as well. He was still strict in class and easily lost his temper. However, he made an effort to reign it in. He was also, Harry recognised, trying to build a relationship with Harry.

He and Snape would never have a good relationship, he thought to himself as he caught the man’s eyes across from the pool.

Harry nodded tentatively at Snape, receiving an equally cautious one back.

Perhaps, they could work at it.