“Harry, what are you -”

 

“Don’t come in!” Harry shouted. “I’m wrapping presents, you can’t see!”

 

“Oooh!” Harry heard his door handle rattle, and had to throw his entire body weight at his bedroom door to stop Draco from barging in and seeing his gifts.

 

“Come on!” Draco’s muffled voice complained. “Just give me a peek -”

 

“Nope,” Harry said firmly. “You have to wait for tomorrow.”

 

He twisted the door lock, hurriedly finished taping together the wrapping paper, then shoved gifts under his bed. He had to rush - Harry wouldn’t trust Draco not to cast Alohomora on his door just to be annoying.

 

“I don’t get why you’re doing it yourself!” Draco said disdainfully. “Just ask the house-elves, that’s what I always do…”

 

After confirming that the presents were properly hidden, Harry unlocked his door again and finally met Draco in the outside hallway. He glared at the other boy. “I do it because I want to!”

 

“Why?” Draco said with a frown. “Why would you want more work?”

 

“Cause I never got to do any of it before,” Harry shrugged. “I never had anyone to give gifts to until two years ago.”

 

Draco’s face fell. “Oh. I - er…”

 

Harry gently shoved him. Draco had started to look quite despondent. “Stop it. I get to celebrate properly now, don’t I? All of the Christmases I’ve had at Hogwarts made up for the Dursleys, easy.”

 

Draco’s crestfallen expression was not cleared up by this, either. Harry, who didn’t like the pitying looks he was being sent, decided to leave Draco to it and walked into the main part of Snape’s quarters. It was decked out with tinsel, garland and a modest Christmas tree stood in one corner, which Harry and Draco had covered in baubles a few days ago while Snape watched on with grinch-like derision. Still, at Draco’s insistence, he had set aside time to conjure up an enchanted, twinkling star for the top of the tree. It certainly outdid the ugly old angel Aunt Petunia always topped her tree with.

 

Harry swiped a gingerbread man from the plate Draco had ordered to their quarters from the kitchens and sat down on the sofa with a contented sigh. Nowhere in the dungeons was ever quite as warm as their living room, with its bright and crackling fireplace. Harry bit off the gingerbread man’s head, and smiled as the flavour of the spices fizzled on his tongue. Draco quickly followed him in and grabbed a gingerbread man of his own. Luckily, he’d stopped looking at Harry like a kicked puppy in the time it had taken for him to leave the hallway.

 

“Fancy a snowball fight?” Draco suggested.

 

“Still not allowed out,” Harry mumbled through a mouthful of gingerbread. Draco gave him a thoroughly disgusted look, and Harry hastily swallowed. 

 

“Severus!” Draco called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Can Harry go out in the snow with me?”

 

A moment later, Snape stuck his head through the office doorway and scowled. “Must you shout through my quarters instead of walking the short distance to this door to ask politely?”

 

“So?” Draco pressed. “Can we go onto the grounds?”

 

“You certainly can,” Snape said, with a sharp look in Harry’s direction. “I believe you are perfectly aware of a certain incident he’s being punished for?”

 

“But it’s Christmas Eve!” Draco complained. “You can't be in trouble on Christmas! Besides, it won't be any fun without him.”

 

“He is in the room right now, you know,” Harry grumbled. “So you can stop talking about me in the third person.”

 

“Come on! He’s a deprived orphan, Severus!” Draco said. “Think of all the snowball fights he missed before with the Muggles! How are you going to say no after all of that?”

 

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Are you seriously -”

 

“And I’m the child of the punitive system, you know,” Draco added. “A social outcast. I need the interaction, really, so I don’t tumble down a dark path.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure if Snape was purposely ignoring Draco, or if he was so utterly shocked by those outlandish statements that he’d been stunned into silence.

 

“Come on, Severus!” Draco pleaded. “Please?”

 

Snape stared at Draco for several long moments, then sighed very loudly. “I suppose that it wouldn’t do me any harm to break from my marking to take in the fresh air… and since Harry’s punishment is to remain under my supervision at all times, he must therefore accompany me outside.”

 

“Thank you!” Draco said gleefully, already reaching for his cloak and scarf. Harry was too busy staring at Snape in shock to react.

 

“Stop gawking at me and go before I change my mind,” Snape said. He waved his wand, and Harry’s cloak flew off the coat hanger and directly at him so he barely had time to grab it from the air before it smacked him in the face. “I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes, once I’ve finished up what I’m doing.”

 

“Thanks, Severus,” he said with a small smile, barely believing his luck. Apparently, Draco’s transparent attempts at manipulation were more effective than he’d thought. 

 

“And don’t even think about going out of bounds!” Snape warned them sharply.

 

“We won’t,” Harry promised. At any rate, he was all too conscious of the weight of his tracker on his wrist now to dare think he could do something without Snape knowing about it. 

 

While he bundled into his winter clothes, Harry smiled to himself and leaned over to Draco. He whispered, “I think the Christmas spirit is actually getting to Scrooge…”

 

Snape shook his head and waved a hand at them. “Cease with the Dickensian comparisons and go already!” 

 

There was a special kind of magic about Hogwarts at Christmas, Harry thought, especially when it was so empty. The situation with Black meant that just four students were staying for the holidays: Harry, Draco, an older Slytherin and a Gryffindor first-year. Their footsteps echoed as they sprinted through the silent halls, lined with tinsel and heady with the smell of Christmas cooking wafting up from the kitchens. They burst out onto the twinkling white grounds, untouched snow stretching all the way from the castle steps to the forest. It had stormed last night, but the sky was crystal clear now, leaving plenty of snowdrifts for Harry and Draco’s amusement.

 

Harry didn’t think he stopped smiling the entire time they were out there, pelting each other with snowballs until their fingers went numb and droplets of icy water dripped from their hair. Even Snape seemed to be in an unusually good mood, a single smudge of black against the icy blues and whites of the winter world. Every now and then, a snowball that couldn’t have come from Draco would hit Harry in the back, and he’d turn around to find Snape smirking with his arms crossed. Try as he might, though, Harry could never quite catch the man in the act. It didn’t help that every time Harry tried to watch Snape, he was letting his guard down to offensives from Draco.

 

At Harry’s insistence they even built a snowman, something he'd never been able to do while living on Privet Drive. He’d tried a couple of times, but Dudley would always kick it into mush before it could go anywhere. They fetched sticks for arms, stones for eyes, and Harry rushed into the Great Hall to pilfer a carrot from the lunch leftovers for a nose while Draco attempted to Transfigure a hat out of his his glove. It was rather wonky, and looked more like a tea cosy than the top hat he’d been going for, but Harry thought that those little imperfections were the best part.

 

“The Muggles have a Christmas song about a snowman that comes to life,” Harry told Draco. “Frosty the Snowman. I always used to hope that the snowmen in Little Whinging would come alive like he did.”

 

The other boy sighed suddenly. “My father always used to enchant my snowman to wave and dance around… I thought it was the most brilliant thing when I was younger.”

 

Draco’s expression had grown horribly wistful, so Harry tried to intervene. “Well, do you know any of the spells? Why don't we try them?”

 

After a moment, Draco furiously shook himself. “Yes, we should. That would be fun, wouldn't it? Let me show you…”

 

It didn't go entirely as anticipated. They managed to make the snowman's twig arms wave a bit awkwardly with some nifty charmwork, but when they tried to make the snowman nod its head, the snowball abruptly took on a life of its own and started chasing them around the grounds. Harry let out a rather undignified shriek as it barrelled right at him, and was forced to run as fast as he could from his attacker while Draco took an exceedingly long time to cancel the spell. He teased Harry about it all the way back to the dungeons, alongside one irritatingly amused Snape. Still, Harry couldn’t be too annoyed. At least Draco was smiling, now.

 

After they'd been ordered into dry clothes and plied with warming drinks, Harry and Draco settled around the fireplace with Snape. For the last week he'd been marking constantly, but the man had at last set his work aside. Harry, sipping on his hot chocolate, realised that Snape was staring at him thoughtfully. He frowned. “What is it?"

 

“I was simply wondering if you had any particular Christmas traditions you'd like us to do,” Snape said. “I hadn't asked. Is there anything special you’ve done in previous years to mark the occasion?”

 

“Yeah, if you're asking me how I celebrated Christmas with the Dursleys that's going to kill the mood pretty fast,” Harry said darkly. He shook his head and tried to think back. “I always liked the music, I guess?”

 

Aunt Petunia liked to start preparing Christmas dinner the night before, so Harry would get to listen in on the radio by proxy while he cleaned or cooked. He was never a fan of the traditional Christian carols his aunt favoured, but sometimes Dudley would barge into the kitchen for food and would switch the station to pop, which Harry preferred. 

 

“That can certainly be arranged,” Snape said, gesturing to a device on the mantelpiece that greatly resembled a radio. “Are you familiar with the Wizarding Wireless?”

 

Harry frowned. “No?”

 

“It's essentially a magical radio,” he explained. “Some of the songs will be ones you're unfamiliar with, but certain stations favour Muggle songs as well.”

 

“Cool!” Harry had never heard a wizard's Christmas song before, apart from a few magical parodies of traditional carols the enchanted suits of armour sometimes sang.

 

“We ought to make some of our own traditions, I think,” Draco said, going over to fiddle with the knob on the Wireless. “We could all do a round of Christmas Eve karaoke, perhaps - give us a bit of ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’, will you, Severus?”

 

Snape scowled fiercely. “I have a better idea for a tradition - one that involves poison being force-fed to irritating little boys.” 

 

“Bit of ABBA, then?” Harry suggested. “‘Dancing Queen’, maybe? That’s your favourite!”

 

“The death by poison is becoming infinitely more painful with every passing comment.” Snape glared at Harry and Draco, who were laughing amongst themselves. “I have already had to endure staff karaoke this year - I cannot cope with more…”

 

“You actually went to staff karaoke?” Harry asked, immediately interested. “You? Why?!”

 

“It was during a mandatory faculty Christmas party,” Snape said grimly. “I assure you, I did not voluntarily decide to listen to the Headmaster’s rendition of ‘Santa Baby’.”

 

Harry, stunned into silence by a rather horrifying and vivid visual of Dumbledore singing, did not respond as Draco asked what that song was. Once he’d recovered his wits, however, a spirited discussion about the joys of Muggle Christmas music quickly began, until Snape managed to find a way to tune the Wizarding Wireless into a Muggle radio station. The sound quality was a little distorted, but Draco listened with interest, and seemed to take a particular liking to ‘Fairytale of New York’ and ‘Last Christmas’.

 

Despite his general grumpiness when it came to all things festive, Harry couldn't help but think that Snape wasn't as Christmas-averse as he'd like them to think. He'd been remarkably indulgent those last few days, like allowing Harry out despite the terms of his punishment, and he had actually helped in tiny, unidentifiable ways while Harry and Draco decorated his quarters. In fact, while they all sat down for dinner, Harry was almost entirely certain he caught Snape subtly nodding his head in time to a particularly catchy Celestina Warbeck track. He immediately stopped when he noticed Harry watching, though, and fixed him with a withering glare.

 

Snape’s indulgence even extended to post-dinner activities, where Harry and Draco managed to persuade Snape to join them for a game of Monopoly for the first time since August. While Harry fetched the board from where it was stored, Draco crouched down next to him. 

 

“Hey - I have a plan.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We both want to beat Severus, don't we?” Draco said in a low voice. “So why don't we team up?”

 

“What?” Harry whispered. “How would we even do that?”

 

“Simple - give each other lower deals and don't buy properties the other will definitely want,” Draco said. “We just need to stop him winning again - any means necessary, eh?”

 

“Sure,” Harry said with a grin.

 

“Precisely how long does it take to locate a Monopoly board?” Snape called. Draco hurried back into the room, closely followed by Harry, and the two of them did their best to look innocent.

 

Despite their best efforts to band together in the face of a common enemy, it seemed that Draco and Harry were destined to fail. They both did their best to give the other decent property deals - some of the low offers made Snape's eyebrows rise into his hairline - but unluckily for them, the man quickly caught onto their strategy and played accordingly. It was certainly a longer, closer game than last time, but Snape eked out a victory over Draco in the final hour. 

 

“I will never understand how you do that,” Draco grumbled. “Harry and I have been playing together for months now - we should be better than you! What's the trick?”

 

“Ah, but if I told you, it wouldn't be a particularly useful strategy anymore, would it?” Snape arched an eyebrow. “Cunning, Draco.”

 

“Whatever,” Draco muttered moodily. He tended to be a bit of a sore loser.

 

“Now, it's getting late - should we light the candle?”

 

Draco nodded. “Yes, let's do it.”

 

“The candle?” Harry said curiously. 

 

“A Yule Candle - it's a tradition practiced by a fair number of wizarding families,” Snape explained.

 

“You light a candle, and place it on the windowsill - it has to burn all night long," Draco added. “It’s how you welcome the light for the coming year.”

 

Harry, who was very interested in all of this now, followed along as Snape took a long white candle with some pretty, swirled carvings on it, and placed it in a sconce on the kitchen windowsill. By now, the murky green light from the lake was replaced with uniform darkness. 

 

Harry had assumed that they'd light the candle with a wand, but Snape actually lit a match, which he handed to Draco. Slowly, carefully, he lowered the flame to the wick. In all manners it appeared to be a regular candle, but when Harry looked closely as Draco blew out the match, the flame on the wick flickered between colours aside from orange. This was certainly enchanted - something in the air felt heavy with magic. A heady, cedar smell filled the room.

 

Draco sighed, and wrapped his arms around himself. "Mother always used to say this was how you brought lost loved ones near - a candle in the window, to let them know where to find you, wherever they are."

 

He bowed his head, lost in thought. Harry stared into the flickering flame, surprisingly melancholy in his own way. He had his own lost family to think about - namely, his mother and father. Long before he could remember, he'd had a Christmas with them. If they'd lived, what would this night have been like? Would his mother have introduced him to Muggle Christmas songs? Would his father have taught Harry about the Yule Candle? What would it be like to spend Christmas Eve with his family?

 

As Harry glanced around the room, though, he thought he had an answer to that final question. A day full of gingerbread, snowball fights, board games and playful teasing.

 

As his eyes landed on Snape, who also seemed absentminded, Harry wondered what lost loved ones he was thinking about. He knew that Snape hadn't gotten along with his father, but did he still think of the man at times like these? What about his mother?

 

Draco coughed, interrupting Harry from his musings. “I… excuse me a moment, please… “

 

He hurried away down the hallway. Draco's bedroom door clicked shut a moment later.

 

Snape sighed heavily. "I'm sure you can understand that this is a difficult time for him.”

 

Harry nodded. "I bet it is. I'm a bit surprised he's been doing well at all, honestly… “

 

"Christmas is his favourite time of year,” Snape said quietly. He was still watching the candle, and the flame danced in his dark eyes. "He said he doesn't want the actions of his father to ruin things for him. However, what we want and what we actually feel are not always synchronous. Christmas is the time for family, and it’s his first year without them. He’s bound to be thinking of Lucius and Narcissa.”

 

Harry nodded his assent. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to confide something in Snape he'd have normally pushed to the back of his mind.

 

"I keep thinking about the Dursleys today,” he confessed. "Just little things - like how obsessive Aunt Petunia was about the tree, and all the stuff Dudley wanted to eat I wasn't allowed, and - well, normally I try not to think about them at all. I can't help it for some reason today, though. If I'm thinking about people I don't really like, then - well, I’m not surprised he is.”

 

“It is normal to think about them," Snape said quietly. “You know, I spent nearly every Christmas at Hogwarts from the age of eleven onwards, and I still think of childhood Christmases which weren't, ah… entirely enjoyable for me."

 

Harry, who had spent most of the last month thinking of Snape as an unreasonably grumpy Christmas-hater, cringed as he abruptly realised the man must have his reasons for disliking the holiday. He sometimes forgot that Snape also had a difficult family, and how that was bound to affect him.

 

“Today has been about a billion times better, you know," Harry whispered. “I used to spend Christmas Eve hoovering the living room and staring at Dudley’s present mountain knowing I wasn't going to get anything. This - all I ever wanted was this."

 

A family. Harry's mind finished the words he couldn't quite voice yet. 

 

Snape smiled, then reached out to briefly squeeze his shoulder. "It's been rather pleasant for me as well, I will confess. I generally tend to spend the holidays locked away alone. This was… far more enjoyable. You're looking forward to tomorrow, I presume?"

 

Harry grinned back. “Of course." He glanced over to the Christmas tree, then to the corridor Draco had disappeared down. “Should I go see him, d'you think? Is that okay?”

 

"I actually think it would be precisely what he needs at the minute,” Snape said. “Call for me if he wants more company.”

 

“I will,” Harry promised. He hurried down the corridor and hesitated for a moment outside of Draco's door before softly knocking. When he received no response, Harry gently pushed the door open. The room was mostly dark, but as Harry's eyes adjusted, he noticed Draco curled up on his bed. Harry walked in and sat down next to him.

 

“Hi,” he said. “Erm - I just wanted to see how you are after - yeah…”

 

There was a brief silence, then rustling movement. “I'm sorry,” Draco whispered. “I don't want to spoil things.”

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. “You're not spoiling anything!”

 

“I just - I don't want to be miserable, I want to be happy - it's Christmas!” Draco said, pressing his hands over his face. “And - well, I know you've had your share of really horrid Christmases, and I don't want to make this one bad, too -”

 

“Draco, no!” Harry said, dismayed. “Come on, you can't help being sad! Bloody hell, you're not a robot!”

 

Draco at last looked at Harry, deeply confused. “A what?” 

 

“Never mind,” Harry said hastily. “But yeah, it's okay to miss them. If you wanted to spend all of tomorrow locked in here you'd have every right, I reckon.”

 

“No - I don't want that,” Draco said after a moment. “I love Christmas, you know. I want to enjoy it, but these random things keep making me so dreadfully sad…”

 

“Not much you can do there. But you being sad doesn't ruin Christmas, I promise.” Searching for a way to lighten the mood, Harry added, “My Aunt Marge’s dog knocking a glass of red wine on Aunt Petunia’s new cream carpet is what ruins Christmas, let me tell you… you’d have thought the dog killed someone, the way she was looking at it!”

 

Draco let out a small snort and turned to face Harry properly. “Can you take my mind off it all?” he asked softly. “Tell me about some Muggle Christmas nonsense, maybe?”

 

“Okay.” Harry shuffled back against the blankets so he was lying next to Draco. “Er… do you remember when I called Snape Scrooge earlier? Did you know what I was talking about?”

 

“Not a clue.”

 

“Right - let me tell you about A Christmas Carol, then,” Harry said. “I always see you reading, so I'd bet you'd get a kick out of it. So we're in Victorian London, and there's this grumpy bloke named Ebenezer Scrooge…”

 

He spoke for hours and hours, talking about anything and everything from the books and songs he was familiar with to the Nativity play his primary school would put on. He talked until both of their eyes grew thick and droopy with exhaustion, and they both drifted off to sleep.

 

---

 

The next morning, when Harry woke up and realised what day it was, he felt a shiver of excitement that had nothing to do with the cold. Of course, he was still rather chilly, since Draco was hogging the entire duvet. He decided to wake the other boy by yanking off the covers and roughly shaking his shoulder. 

 

“Wake up!”

 

Draco didn’t open his eyes, but Harry knew the other boy was awake as he was roughly kicked in the thigh.

 

“It’s Christmas morning, get up already!” he said. “Presents, Draco!”

 

That got Draco’s attention. He finally sat up while Harry rushed back into his bedroom, donned a dressing gown over his pyjamas, and made a beeline for the Christmas tree. As he emerged into the living room, Harry saw Snape was also up and about. He was carrying a long, thin package, wrapped in brown paper.

 

“Happy Christmas, Severus!” Harry said. He craned his neck. “Who’s that for?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Snape said, his voice growing muffled as he entered his bedroom. “It was unlabelled - I’m disposing of it.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because it’s highly suspicious - I’m concerned it’s hexed.”

 

“It might be from Dumbledore,” Harry said. “He sent me the Invisibility Cloak for Christmas in an unlabelled package back in my first year.”

 

“I assure you, that item would certainly not have come from the Headmaster,” Snape muttered, emerging from his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

 

“What was it, then?” Harry asked curiously.

 

“None of your business,” Snape said a little sharply. He gestured over Harry’s head. “And anyway, haven’t you got enough presents to concern yourself with?”

 

Harry turned around, and his face lit up at the sizable gift pile he found himself facing. Draco was already crouched at the base of the tree, pulling out a green-wrapped package with his name on. Harry hurried over to join him, while Snape followed at a more relaxed pace and took a seat on the sofa. Harry tore into his first package and quickly slipped on a jumper from Mrs Weasley, red with a Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, and took a bite out of one of the homemade mince pies she’d sent him. The tins must be enchanted - it was still piping hot. The crumbly pastry practically melted in his mouth.

 

“Want one?” Harry asked, offering the tin up to Snape. 

 

He shook his head. “I have been sent food and a jumper of my own, as a matter of fact.”

 

“Really?”

 

Snape nodded and revealed a soft package to his side which turned out to contain a jumper - plain black, naturally. Harry smiled to himself, and mentally thanked the infinite kindness of Mrs Weasley. 

 

“Ooh, what are these, Harry?” Draco asked, holding up the books Harry had gifted him.

 

“It’s a Muggle fantasy series,” Harry explained. “Lord of the Rings. I thought you might enjoy seeing what they think of our world.”

 

Draco did something he’d have never done just six months earlier after being handed something Muggle - he grinned. “Oh, that should be very interesting! Thanks, Harry - have you opened mine yet?”

 

Harry shook his head while Draco shoved a package at him. The wrapping paper was covered in tiny buzzing snitches, so Harry carefully unstuck it to avoid ruining the beautiful enchantments. Within he found the latest edition of Seeker Weekly, as well as a card stating he had a six month subscription in his name to the magazine.

 

“Now you can stop stealing all of mine,” Draco declared. 

 

“Wicked - thanks, Draco.” 

 

Harry went to reach for another package, but was interrupted by an outraged cry from his left. “How rude!”

 

“What is it?” he asked, turning to face the outraged Draco. He held up a package of Toothflossing Stringmints, scowling fiercely. “Is this Granger’s idea of a joke? What, is she trying to say I have bad teeth or something?”

 

“No, no, no!” Harry said quickly. “She sends those to everyone! Look, I’ve even got some.” He held up his own package of sweets. “Her parents are dentists, so she thinks they’re cool. Don’t ask me why.”

 

“What on earth is a dentist?”

 

“A Muggle profession specialising in tooth care,” Snape explained. Harry noticed he was drinking coffee out of the mug Harry had bought him, and smiled to himself.

 

“How odd.” Draco continued to stare at the package with a frown on his face, although his expression brightened considerably a few moments later. “Oh, she’s sent me the caramel Honeyduke’s chocolate, too! That was nice of her, I suppose…” He looked up at Harry again, clearly confused. “But why would Granger send me anything?”

 

“Why not?” Harry said. “She doesn’t mind you, now - told me so herself. Same with Ron. There should be something under there from him, too.”

 

“I see,” Draco said softly. He stared into the fire, clearly lost in thought, but the ghost of a smile curled up at the edge of his lips.

 

Olive branch accepted, Harry thought victoriously as he reached for a gift. Maybe in the new year, he could try to get Ron and Hermione in a room with Draco to see if they’d get along.

 

Harry couldn’t help but be surprised by the sheer number of presents he had received from Snape. Part of him had been scared to even hope that Snape would get him anything at all, but he’d actually gotten Harry a multitude of things. New Quidditch gloves, a fur-lined winter cloak with built in warming enchantments, a selection of Honeyduke's chocolates, and his favourite gift of all - a handsome leatherbound sketchbook with a set of proper art pencils. Harry beamed at Snape. “I always wanted some of these! Thank you so much!”

 

“I’m sure you’ll put them to good use,” Snape said. He had just unwrapped the sketch of the laboratory Harry had made him, and a smile crossed his face. “This is rather well done - thank you, Harry. It must have taken a while.”

 

Harry, who had been particularly nervous about that gift, felt a warm glow spread throughout his chest. He turned back around and reached for a long, thin package. Draco was just tearing into one that looked similar, and he beamed once it was open. “Severus, thanks!”

 

“Now you won’t be flying on a borrowed broom for the rematch,” Snape said with an approving nod. Harry glanced over and realised that Draco had opened up a package containing a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. He frowned, and was just about to ask Draco what had happened to the old one his father had bought last year when he remembered the fire - it must have been destroyed. He winced and turned back to his own gift, feeling a little sad about his trusty old Nimbus Two Thousand. Harry really missed having a functional broomstick…

 

But that feeling of sadness instantly evaporated when he opened his own package and found a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Harry gasped. “You didn’t!” 

 

“Well, you certainly needed one after what happened to your old broom,” Snape said with a grimace. 

 

Harry couldn’t even be put down by the memory of that disastrous match. He ran his hands over the smooth, polished handle of his new Nimbus. He could feel it thrumming with power beneath his fingertips.

 

“I can’t believe you, of all people, bought two racing brooms,” Draco laughed. “How did you bear it, Severus?”

 

“Badly.” Snape suddenly let out a very loud groan. “You evil, evil boy.”

 

Harry turned around and saw the ABBA’S Greatest Hits record sitting in Snape’s lap. He snickered. “I got your favourite!”

 

“Evil.” Snape sent him a truly withering glare, but Harry noticed a slight twitching around his lips. Normally that was a sign of an incoming explosion of rage, but Harry had an inkling that Snape was actually trying very hard not to laugh.

 

“Oh, this is that Muggle band you like!” Draco said, peering at the cover.

 

“I do not like -”

 

“Put it on, Severus!” Draco interrupted.

 

Snape, who seemed to have accepted defeat, removed the vinyl from its case while Draco got out his wand and tapped it. The opening notes of ‘Dancing Queen’ drifted over the room. By the end of the song, Snape had given up on trying to scowl at the music. Harry could tell by the slightly absent look in his eyes that Snape was lost in memories from a time long ago.

 

“Merlin’s beard, I would not expect you to listen to this sort of thing,” Draco said, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Snape. “Really, Severus?”

 

“Lily Evans was a very hard person to say no to,” Snape said with a sigh. He stared at Harry for several long moments as the next song started up, hesitated, and then reached into the pocket of his robes. “I have one last thing for you, Harry.”

 

“Wait, really?” Harry said. “But you’ve got me loads already!”

 

“This is something different,” he said, handing Harry a small stack of yellowing letters, all tied together with a length of blue string. There looked to be just under a dozen. For some reason, Snape was looking on rather anxiously, so Harry quickly untied the string. He pulled a postcard from the top of the pile. There was a rather pretty print of a sandy beach, captioned neatly as ‘St Ives, Cornwall’. Harry flipped it over to read the curling handwriting on the back. 

 

Hi, Sev!

 

Cornwall’s been absolutely brilliant. I’ve been out on the beach every day, and it’s so sunny that my nose is peeling. I’ve found the most lovely sea glass and shells on the shore - I can’t wait to show you when I’m back! 

 

I wish you were here with us. Mum and Dad want to come back next year, and I said that if Tuney’s allowed to bring her weird boyfriend along, I should get to take a friend. They seemed open to it, so fingers crossed! 

 

Best of luck with that Babbling Beverage adjustment. I’m sure you’ll work out the substitutions soon.

 

Love,

 

Lily

 

She wrote some of her letters the same way Harry did… he ran his fingers over the postcard reverently, then slowly looked up at Snape.

 

“These are from my mum,” he said softly, barely believing the words. For the first time in his life, Harry was looking at his mother’s handwriting.

 

“I - I know there aren’t many,” Snape said haltingly. “Lily and I mainly saw each other in person so we didn't write often, but I had a few letters that I thought you might like to -”

 

Any further words were cut off as Harry flung his arms around Snape’s neck and hugged him tightly. After the man had recovered from the shock, his arms came up to return the embrace.

 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. “Thank you.”

 

After a moment he pulled away, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had just realised that he’d never actually initiated a hug with Snape before. The man in question didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, this might be the happiest Harry had ever seen Snape. Not for the first time, Harry was struck by how different Snape looked when he wasn’t scowling at everything.

 

“It is my pleasure,” Snape said eventually. “If you need any context, I’ll do my best to fill you in.”

 

Harry looked down at the neatly stacked letters, and hesitated. These had to be precious, if Snape had kept them for all these years. As much as he desperately wanted to read them, they weren't his. “But are you sure? I shouldn’t - I can’t -”

 

“They’re yours to keep,” Snape said in a tone that beggared no argument. “You deserve them. After all, she is your mother.”

 

She’s my mum. Angry words he’d once spat at Snape, five months ago in a stuffy laboratory at Spinner’s End. How far they’d come since then… if Harry could have known at the start of August that he’d be sitting here and spending Christmas with Snape and Draco, he’d have never believed it.

 

And he’d certainly never have believed how happy two people he’d once despised could make him. 

 

For once in his life, as he stared around the room full of family and music, Harry felt truly content with the people he had. The loss of his parents and the cruelty of the Dursleys wasn’t smarting nearly as much as it often did, if at all. He had Snape, he had Draco, and it really was enough.

 

This was turning out to be his best Christmas ever.