Antiquity's Corollary by gonnabefamous
Past Featured StorySummary: At Lily's request, Albus Dumbledore has kept a secret from Severus Snape for 17 years. When Dumbledore learns that this secret plays a vital role in the war, however, it is Snape who is left to deal with the consequences. As Harry's true parentage is revealed, both his and Snape's futures become uncertain. The two must learn to work together in order to survive. PreHBP.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Ginny, Hermione, Ron
Snape Flavour: Canon Snape
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Family
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 58 Completed: No Word count: 401010 Read: 379367 Published: 28 Jun 2005 Updated: 11 Oct 2015
A Milder Sort of Christmas by gonnabefamous
Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoy this chapter- it's my longest one to date, at 40 pages and almost 19000 words!

Chapter 38

A Milder Sort of Christmas

xxx

With the use of magic, it did not take Harry long to clean his room. A reparo easily took care of the destroyed pillow on the floor, and Tibby, the ever-efficient house elf that she was, slyly unpacked his clothes and cleaned what he had missed while he was using the bathroom.

Honestly, Harry had not expected this to take long at all. He had used it as a ploy to avoid the awkward silence that was bound to follow their conversation. As much as he had wanted to stay, he did not particularly relish spending every waking moment with Severus; at least, not today. While there were moments when it seemed nothing was changed, there was constantly a voice in the back of his mind reminding him that the elements of their relationship were now somewhat distorted.

Also bothering him was the fact that Lupin could perhaps be angry with him for wanting to stay. As empathetic as the man usually was, Harry doubted whether he realised what it felt like to be in his position. He could see why Lupin would be protective of him. He still considered him to be James' son, and Sirius' godson. It would be difficult for him to accept that Severus was his father now, especially after the man had hurt so many people he'd cared for.

Harry knew that Severus was often unkind. He recognized that the man had an awful temper that couldn't be rivaled. But the truth was that no one could ever be without fault. He didn't expect Severus to be, and he certainly hoped that he wasn't expected to be. Humanity was universal.

With this thought, Harry frowned. Perhaps he needed to pen Lupin and explain… and maybe apologize. He realized he hadn't really said much to Lupin about this, and he wanted the man to really understand.

Making the quick decision to brave the hallways so that he could get some parchment from the study, Harry moved to the door and out into the hallway. With a quick glance around, Harry walked quickly towards the end of the hall and turned. He wasn't being overly cautious; if he did happen to run into Severus, he would simply explain that he was going to go get some parchment. As he had learned over the past few weeks, the man wouldn't appreciate being hidden from. Still, Harry wasn't eager to run into him again. If he could wait until dinner to see him, he was sure he would feel much less out of depth.

Perhaps it was due to his growing familiarity with the house, but the trip down to the study did not feel as treacherous as it had before— he did not feel the need to glance around corners to check to make sure Severus wasn't coming. He didn't feel so uneasy. He found this odd, considering the circumstances.

Harry retrieved the parchment from the study quickly, and it only took him a moment to decide to write his letter in his room, rather than the study. He would rather dislike being happened upon by Severus and asked about the letter; he didn't much relish the idea of explaining that he was writing a letter to Lupin, apologizing for wanting to stay. He simply didn't want to deal with the conversation that would most certainly follow.

Harry returned to his room equally as quickly as he had left it, and found himself wishing he had a desk in there. He considered moving the low table across the room to sit in front of his bed, but reflected that he would be writing at a rather awkward angle. He frowned at this thought for a moment before shrugging and sinking to the floor, laying the parchment out in front of him and moving to lie on his stomach, quill in hand.

Dear Professor Lupin, Harry wrote, still unsure how to address him. Despite the fact that Lupin hadn't taught in years, he had been good enough a teacher to keep the title, at least in Harry's book.

I'm not sure when I will see you again, so I wanted to explain some things before it's been too long to recall what I really want to say. I felt that a lot of things were left unsettled earlier when I went with Severus, and I'd like to resolve them before things between us get too tense. I consider you a good friend, and I don't want to lose that.

I'm really sorry if you think that I'm taking your guidance for granted; I'm not. In fact, I really appreciate that you care, that's why I couldn't stay truly angry with you. However, this doesn't change the fact that Severus is my father, and I can't abandon him.

I know you think I'm doing this in the hopes that I'll have someone to care for me, or because I'm naïve. None of these things is the case. I know Severus can be difficult and callus, but he really isn't always like that. There are a lot of things you just don't see unless he lets you. I know he cares for me.

I won't stay if things like this keep happening; I promise you that. But I don't think they will. He's trying, Professor, he really is trying. I think he deserves another chance.

Please understand that this means a lot to me, and don't be upset or think that I'm making a mistake out of weakness and a reluctance to walk away. No relationship is perfect- no person is perfect. Wouldn't it be more naïve to expect perfection than to expect and deal with difficulty?

I hope to hear from you soon,

Harry

Harry did not reread his letter. He had written what he wanted to say, and knew that if he looked at it again or gave it time he would have second thoughts. Folding up the letter and addressing it to Lupin, he immediately summoned Tibby and asked him to give the letter to Hedwig when she returned to the house.

Once Tibby had gone, Harry shook his head and flopped onto his bed, staring up at the golden canopy. He heaved a heavy sigh and turned over onto his side, pulling down a pillow to place under his head. Realizing for the first time how weary the day's events had rendered him, he allowed his eyes to fall closed.

It wasn't long before Harry could feel the temptation of sleep tugging at his mind, pulling him towards a state of unconsciousness. Unwilling to battle the impulse and welcoming the chance to take a break from the extremely complex thoughts and feelings plaguing him, he kept his eyes shut and slowly let go of awareness. His last thought was that perhaps some sleep would rid him of the dread pitted in his stomach at the thought of facing Severus for the rest of the week.

xxx

Severus, ever the avoidant, found solace in the remaining work he had to do in the lab-to-be on the third floor. He had a series of counters set up around the perimeter of the room, with plenty of space to move about (a necessity if he, Miss Granger, Harry, and sometimes Dumbledore would be working in there) and two large islands in the different spots in the room.

Upon reflection, he realized he had set it up as a larger, more elaborate replica of his dungeons at Hogwarts. The small room in which he was able to brew independently was often insufficient in space, and he normally found himself setting up cauldrons in his classroom as well. Even the Potions room that the Dark Lord had once provided him with had been less than idyllic. He had often given thought to the many things he might accomplish with a greater work area, but had never really considered it a possibility.

As soon as Severus finished fortifying the shelves he'd constructed to hold supplies and finished warding the doors on the various cabinets, he would be ready to re-clean and equip the room for use. The Order had been working to find the things he would need for his tasks. Naturally, they were all on separate assignments and had no idea for what purpose they were to acquire these items, but that fact mattered very little as long as they were obtained in the end. Soon, he would be coming on the weekends to begin work on the potion.

As Severus worked on the lab, he was coming to a significant realization. It was important that Harry stay with him. He had already begun to gather materials that he would use to instruct Harry in his training over the summer. He was close to finishing Lily's old white room so that his son would have the best facilities possible to learn strong white magic. He had submitted a long list of Dark Magic books to Dumbledore in order for approval. He was the one who was most able to instruct Harry in these things. If for no other reason, he had to control himself so that Harry could gain the training experience.

He was still unsure what kind of emotional or fundamental benefit his presence in his son's life provided. He was unsure whether he was a good influence or if he was damaging Harry's psychological health. However, it was becoming clear that Harry wanted him in his life, and he supposed that abandoning the boy for the purpose of 'doing what was best' for him might have detrimental effects, even in comparison to the outcome of the alternative. He owed it to Harry to stop doubting himself and focus on what he could help his son to accomplish: learning the skills necessary to defeat Lord Voldemort.

xxx

When Harry awoke, he worried for a moment that he had missed dinner. He awoke abruptly, as though his mind was alerting him to something, only to glance at the clock and realize he'd been asleep for barely an hour. Frustrated at this (for this meant that he would have to find another way to pass the time until dinner), Harry huffily turned over onto his stomach and let out a long sigh. He really didn't want to stay up in his room all day and dwell on what had happened; he needed to clear his head.

Glancing out the window at the dreary state of the skies and the frost pressing against the glass from the chilly December weather, Harry rose and pulled a long, thick grey jumper from his drawer. He pulled it ungracefully over his head, arms twisting at odd angles as he poked them through the stretchy sleeves. Dressed for the weather and feeling considerably warmer, he headed for the door.

Harry could conclude from the quiet state of the house and emptiness of the hallways that Severus had shut himself up in one of the rooms. He didn't particularly mind this fact, but gave consideration to the fact that he might be expected to notify Severus of when he left the house. Severus hadn't stated specifically that this needed to be done, but Harry could guess that Severus wouldn't react well to his strolling out the front door without so much as a word. He might even think Harry was running away.

For the second time that day, Harry called for Tibby. She promptly appeared, waiting expectantly for instructions.

"Tibby, could you go tell Master Snape that I will be going outside for a walk, if that's alright with him?"

Harry watched the elf carefully for a reaction, remembering the last time he had disregarded her horror at one of his requests. Much to his pleasure, she nodded without hesitancy.

"Shall Tibby report back to Master Harry with a reply?"

"Yes, that would be great," Harry said, offering an encouraging smile. He was glad to see that she was becoming more accustomed to his presence in the house, and less timid around him.

Again, she nodded. "Tibby shall return shortly," she said, bowing her head and disappearing with a small pop.

Harry exhaled and moved to lean against the wall, looking around. He noted that the walls in the house were all very plain. He had yet to see a portrait of a person, a decorative mirror, or scenic painting of a landscape. He noticed a candle here and there and some drapery around the windows, but aside from those, the walls were bare.

As promised, the elf returned shortly. "Master Snape says 'That will be fine'," she informed him politely, seeming pleased to earn another positive reaction when he smiled.

"Great," Harry said, moving towards the door.

"Master also says you is to wear something warm," Tibby said from behind. Harry turned to see her eyeing his jumper speculatively.

"I have this," Harry said, pinching the fabric of his top. "I'm sure it will suffice."

Tibby seemed torn about arguing with him; having two masters with conflicting opinions was clearly not something to which she was accustomed. "I suppose… that is being alright," she conceded reluctantly, still looking apprehensive.

"If he asks, I'll say that it was my fault nothing warmer went onto my body," Harry assured her. Her expression didn't change, but she gave him a respectful curtsy and, without another word, disappeared again.

Ridiculous as it was, as Harry started out of the house, he was more warmed by Severus' concern than he was by the fleece covering him. It was a subtle reminder that though they'd had a falling out, the man still cared enough to give him silly instructions.

Smiling slightly to himself, Harry pulled his sleeves down over his fingers and headed down the grey brick path, kicking gnarled weeds and plants out of his way as he went. As the path wound around the house, leading him into the back, Harry realized for the first time what a large amount of land Severus' house was plotted on. From the balcony on the second floor, it didn't seem so vast, for one could view most of the grounds from there with fair ease. What one couldn't see, however, was that the path extended past the various overgrown gardens. The line of trees that seemed to encircle the property were actually part of the property, it appeared. Harry stood on the higher ground near the house and gazed outward.

At one time, Harry supposed that the grounds must have all been very orderly and neatly kept. The path broke at various places and was replaced by grey flint steps, leading down small or large hills. There were some platforms of the same stone that were untouched by the weeds, except for around the edges, while some statues and fountains were unrecognizable for all the dead vegetation enveloping them.

Harry frowned, wondering if this had been a place of beauty when his mother had dwelled here. It certainly seemed a waste to let it go in this state. Still, he doubted he would know where to begin restoring it.

Harry wandered to the edge of a steep hill and made his way down the long stone stairs embedded in the ground there. A majority of them were covered, at least partially, in a thick layer of moss, which Harry reflected seemed to be the greenest thing in the entire garden. Surprisingly, only a few of the steps were split and sinking into the ground. The stone throughout the garden was worn, and Harry doubted it had been redone since the house had been built. With magic, it would hardly have been necessary, but as no one had lived here for almost twenty years, nothing that Tibby didn't tend to was in good condition.

Harry shortly reached the lower level, feeling satisfied that he had not fallen and worrying about how the climb back up the precarious stairs would be.

The path continued at the bottom, but Harry turned his attention instead to one of the large, vine entangled fountains with a square base and the statue of an elegant woman erected in the middle. This manor had once been a place of prestige, he could tell, but it had long since decayed into a dilapidated house sitting on a fundamental wasteland. Harry perched himself on the edge of the fountain, and looked down into the shallow, dry basin, imagining the history that must lie behind this place.

Harry knew that Severus had inherited this house, but that he had not grown up in it. This made Harry wonder where exactly Severus had lived, and why it had not been here. It had to have been a beautiful place once upon a time, and Harry could find no viable reason why anyone would choose not to live here- aside from its repellent outward appearance, which he guessed could have been corrected if someone would have attempted to do so earlier in time.

Severus did not seem bothered by the house, aside from the memories of Lily that it brought back. So the real question remained to be, what had Severus' father found to be so disagreeable with living in the house? Severus had also said that his father had called it "The Snape Manor", indicating that he had at least had a modicum of respect for the place. It had not been Snape's mother's house, and whatever dark secrets it held had no outward effect on Severus.

The house and its past were as mysterious as the secrets of Severus himself, and Harry was becoming more and more determined to discover both as the days went by.

How long Harry sat on the flat edge of that fountain pondering these things, he did not know, and only when his thought processes began going in circles and he began thinking on tangents did he realize he had spent far too much time outside the house. Harry stood and rubbed his arms that were now quaking with the cold, contemplating the long trip back up the stairs that, from this angle, did not seem very reliable. He looked around, realizing that if the garden were not so overgrown, he could simply travel back up the hill without use of the stairs. Sighing and wishing he knew some good gardening charms, Harry followed the grey path to the first step, and began climbing.

xxx

Severus did not spend a great deal of time labouring on his workroom, because he liked the fact that it provided both an excuse and a distraction in uncomfortable situations and he was sure there were more to come on this holiday. He dared not finish even before the first week drew to a close.

Instead, Severus turned his attention to other mundane tasks as he waited for Harry to return to the house for dinner. He had already decided to let the boy wander the grounds as he pleased tonight; he would come back to the house when he was ready. This seemed an unusual decision for Severus to make- he normally preferred to be in control of things, and he had always had the idea that children should be subject to the authority of adults, despite the circumstances. However, reflecting on the actions he had taken with Harry since they'd become close, he was not nearly as strict a disciplinarian as a father as he was as a teacher. Granted, he was not at all indulgent- he would not tolerate true misbehaviour- but the fact was that Harry rarely demonstrated truly abhorrent qualities. Most of his misdeeds were borne of good intention or naivety.

There was little to do around the house, so Severus was not occupied for long after he left the third floor. At Hogwarts, he refused to allow the house elves to clean his office, classroom, or workroom due to the volatile nature of the substances he kept in all three; he often spent time at the end of the day tending to the messes he had made throughout. He was not, overall, an extremely fussy person when it came to organization, but there was a certain method to his madness, and he liked to keep it that way.

At the house, however, Tibby took care of most of the rooms, and he had not yet spent enough time at his desk for it to become an unorganized pile of chaos. Upon the realization that this left him with little to do, Severus settled himself into one of the chairs in the study and began rereading Ellis Erimand's four book series on the development of strong white magic. He had not been particularly fascinated by the books the first time he had read them, but believed they would provide a good basis for Harry's training. He had already decided to read them and pick out the key points, so that when Harry read them, he would have helpful learning tools and a well educated teacher with a deep knowledge of the subject.

Before Severus could get started on the books, he heard a small tapping noise at one of the windows. Frowning for a moment and regretfully rising from his chair, Severus went to the source of the noise. He was rather surprised to see Hedwig perched on the window ledge there; normally letters arrived to him through Tibby. Still, he opened the window and took the letter from the preening bird. She looked rather disgruntled when he shut the window before she could climb in, but he paid little attention to that. He was more concerned with who the letter was from.

He would recognize the writing anywhere. Not only was he an expert at detecting falsifications of signatures and homework answers from students, but also, it had been a skill he'd been honing since he first became a spy. It was very important to know whom he was corresponding with, and this had become an important tool. This handwriting stood out to him in particular because he adamantly disliked the owner of the distinctive penmanship: Remus Lupin.

Severus turned the letter over and flipped it back again, frowning deeply. Obviously, it was a response to something Harry had written to him, otherwise Hedwig would not have delivered it. But why had Harry written to him so soon after the day's events?

Severus was trying, almost successfully, to block out the prior day's events and the aftermath that had followed. He never had a particularly difficult time dissembling emotion or unwanted thoughts, even from himself. Still, he was unsure how Harry was dealing with this at this point. He hadn't seen the boy for most of the day, but he supposed that was to be expected. Though some things had been resolved earlier, the fact still remained that there were a lot of pieces left to be put back into their puzzle of a relationship.

As curious as Severus was about the letter, he decided not to pry. Harry was free to correspond with whom he wished, provided there was no danger in it, and Severus could find no true mortal danger in communication with Lupin. He tucked the letter into his pocket to give to Harry later, and began steeling his resolve not to probe Harry for answers about the nature of the missives.

Returning to his chair and picking up his book, Severus tried to forget about the letter and the current commotion in his life. He opened up the book to the first page and began reading diligently.

Severus soon found, for the first time in quite awhile, that he was not above distraction. He found himself continually glancing at the time, wondering when Harry would return to the house, and pondering whether he ought to ask Tibby to start dinner. Severus blamed his waning attention on the fact that this was his second time viewing the material before him, and he was too intelligent to be stimulated by knowledge he already possessed. Never mind that he rarely had particularly great amounts of trouble reading the hundreds of essays turned in to him by the end of the day, all full of the same information and awash with rewording and blatant plagiarism. This was very different.

For some time, Severus put a concentrated effort into focusing on the first chapter. When he reached the end of the sixteenth page and could recall nothing that he'd read thus far, however, he abandoned it as a lost cause intended for another time and placed the book in its appropriate position on the shelves.

With a theory that Harry's absence was causing this uncharacteristic lack of tenacity, Severus headed towards the second floor balcony, where he knew he would be able to view Harry if the boy was indeed where he had said he planned to go.

The cold air greeted him with fervour as he stepped outside, and he was reminded to check that Harry was wearing something warm as instructed. He strode to the edge of the terrace and leaned over theparapet,narrowing his eyes and surveying the grounds. He hadn't taken notice of their state of disarray before this; he had looked, but not truly seen them. The state of the house had mattered very little to him the few times he'd apparated to the grounds when on the run, and when he had arrived for this holiday, he had been far too preoccupied to give the appearance of the gardens much thought. They had once been a beautiful addition to the house- he had enjoyed his time in them the few times they had visited the house when he was a child. Now they were so overgrown that he didn't know where to begin looking for his son's messy mop of black hair.

It took Severus about ten minutes to locate his son in the garden, and even then, he could see only the top of his head. He was rather far from the house, but he wasn't anywhere near the line of trees that Severus suddenly realized he had neglected to mention should not be crossed.

Severus sighed, the worry he had not been aware of significantly alleviated, and moved back towards the glass doors, where he would be sheltered, and leaned against the wall, absently watching Harry.

Before long, Severus could see Harry rise and begin making his way back to the house. He smiled when Harry stopped in front of the steps and waited several moments. The boy probably thought that the embedded stairs would collapse if he were not careful, without realizing that no matter how much the stairs broke down, the charms keeping them steady would stay in place. Obviously, Severus would have warned him to stay away from them otherwise. At times, it amazed Severus that the boy who was supposed to save the Wizarding World could know so little about the World itself.

Severus watched until Harry had reached the top of the stairs and had started making his way back to the front of the house. Frowning to himself, he considered the prospect of meeting Harry down at the entrance hall. He had decided much earlier to let the boy come to him… but he also knew that if he made himself scarce and difficult to access the likelihood of that happening within the next day was little to none.

Unwilling to let the evening slip away, especially since Christmas was the following morning, Severus made his decision and moved from his place in the shadows to the glass doors, opening one and stepping inside. As he didn't want Harry to feel intimidated by his sudden presence at the door, he moved into the parlour and waited to move until he heard the door in the entrance hallway open.

xxx

Though his teeth had been chattering and limbs shaking, Harry hadn't realized how much warmth he was missing out on until he stepped into the house. He sighed with relief as he shut the door; during the walk back to the house he had become a lot colder than he remembered being on the walk away from it. He supposed this was due in part to the lengthy amount of time he had spent outside, or to the fact that he hadn't been so lost in thought on the way back.

Harry turned around slowly, rubbing up and down his arms in an effort to warm them. What he didn't expect to see was Severus standing in the doorway, looking at him with a mildly peeved expression.

"I thought I said to wear something warm," Severus said, making Harry almost want to laugh at this form of greeting. He eyed Harry's grey jumper speculatively, shaking his head slightly.

"This is warm," Harry lied, fingering the fabric of his top. He had truthfully expected the weather to be warmer and the sweater to be thicker. Fleece did not make an efficient wind breaker, apparently.

"Ah, that explains the bluish tint to your lips," Severus commented dryly, pulling out his wand and flicking it behind him. Harry frowned for a moment, until a charcoal grey blanket resembling the one Severus kept in his rooms at Hogwarts came flying into the room. Expression unchanging, Severus caught the blanket without so much as a glance at it, and handed it to Harry. "Put this on, before you keel over."

"Put the blanket on?" Harry questioned with purposeful stupidity, holding up the blanket and looking at it inquisitively.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Wrap it around your shoulders," he articulated, causing the side of Harry's mouth to quirk.

"Thanks," Harry said, doing as suggested and tugging the blanket tightly around him. He idly wondered if Severus had purposely summoned him a blanket that matched his jumper.

Severus nodded brusquely and leaned against the door, inspecting Harry. Harry expressly avoided eye contact, eyes wandering around the moderately barren room. There was something in the atmosphere hanging between the fine lines of caution and comfort- it was an odd mix, one to which neither person really knew how to react.

"So," Harry said after a moment, body temperature finally returning to normal. "What did you do all day?"

Severus gave him an odd, curious look, but answered without question, "I worked on the third floor, read a chapter of a book, accomplished several other small tasks. How did you find the grounds?"

Harry shrugged. "I would say I can't complain, but the garden really does need tending," he admitted bluntly.

A laugh escaped Severus, and he inclined his head in agreement. "A summer project, perhaps."

"A summer project I should help with?" Harry asked.

"Yes, actually," Severus said after considering this for a moment. "I'm sure you'll look forward to it."

Harry detected sarcasm in Severus' voice, but nodded anyways. "I'm sure I will," he agreed. Severus frowned at this, but said nothing. In truth, Harry thought it might be interesting to see how a Wizard took care of his gardens as opposed to the muggle methods his aunt forced him to use. He would be seventeen this summer; perhaps if he was still forced to live with the Dursleys for a majority of the time, he could pick up a few charms and spells that would at least make the housework they gave him easier.

Deciding to ignore Harry's response, as he was unsure how it was intended to be taken, Severus changed the topic to their plans for that night. "Are you hungry?" he asked after a short pause.

Harry frowned at Severus' seemingly out of place question, but nodded. "I am," he admitted. "Are you?"

In truth, Severus was not particularly hungry. However, this mattered very little; his appetite was hardly what one would call voracious. "Yes," he lied. "I can summon Tibby and we can have dinner now, if you would like."

Harry uttered his mild agreement and moved past Severus into the hallway. "I'm going to put this blanket back and put on a thicker top," he informed his father, heading for the stairs. "I'll meet you in the kitchen in about five minutes?"

Severus bit back on a sharp comment about the impropriety of speaking to an elder with one's back turned, and said simply, "That will be fine."

Severus watched Harry turn his head over his shoulder and nod, and then summoned the elf. After briefly ordering her to have dinner prepared, he retreated to his rooms to change his dust covered robes.

xxx

Harry was slightly surprised when he was the first to arrive in the kitchen. He was glad to see that dinner would be a casual affair that night. No candles littered their small table, the kitchen was not decorated in the usual yuletide garb, and ordinary, casual plates with bundles of silverware containing no more than one fork were set at their places. While Severus appreciated quality, he had apparently seen no need for extravagance and had understood that Harry would have felt uncomfortable in such a setting.

Harry slowly sank down into one of the chairs, unsure whether there was an etiquette rule about waiting to seat oneself until all partakers of the meal to come had arrived. He was sure if he was wrong to do so Severus would be quick to point it out, at any cost, so he tried to make himself a bit more comfortable and leaned against the tall back of the chair. He found himself back in the same place he had been with Severus several months ago, when he had often sat nervously, worrying about what the two of them would speak of. He knew he was being silly- in all actuality, nothing had truly changed. They had simply experienced another event that they could add to their history, and it was an event that should have been expected, anyways. Part of him even argued that it wasn't such a big deal, and he found it relatively easy not to think about it while the two were not in the same room. However, when they were together and conversing… it was difficult to forget Severus' infuriation.

When Severus arrived in the kitchen, he looked deceptively unmoved except for the slight widening of his eyes and lowering of his brows. "I wasn't expecting to be the second one here," he remarked mildly.

"I don't intentionally try to be late to everything, you know," Harry said back, belatedly realizing what a bite there was to his tone.

If Severus had not already prepared himself for a trying evening before he'd come downstairs, he might have snapped on Harry right then and there. As it was, however, he simply raised an eyebrow and said calmly, "Kindly refrain from being rude if you would like the same consideration."

Severus felt satisfied when Harry's mouth snapped shut and guilt overtook his expression. Severus nodded his satisfaction and sat down at the table, where food instantly appeared.

They were served a satisfying meal of roast duck over a bed of warm vegetables covered in a mild mushroom sauce, and a generously sized quantity of bread to share. Harry did take the bread Severus offered him a moment later, but said little more than a quiet, "thank you," before he started on his meal.

"You don't have to be completely silent, you know," Severus said after a short while, choosing a stalk of asparagus off his plate.

Harry shrugged and continued eating, still feeling rather embarrassed for having snapped at Severus earlier. He wasn't even sure why he had done that- perhaps because he had been thinking about the tension between them to begin with. He hadn't appreciated what he had taken as a purposely offensive remark.

"Harry," Severus said more gently, watching his face. "Can we attempt to make this a pleasant meal?"

"Well, I'm not trying to not make it a pleasant meal."

Severus paused for a moment, containing what would have been an uncharacteristically sudden burst of laughter. Straightening his face, he asked in the same calm voice, "Why are you so defensive tonight?"

Harry gave little reply except for a small shake of his head, and said flatly, "Once again, I fail to come up with answer about my own behaviour. Maybe you should floo Hermione; she's much better at that sort of thing."

"I imagine it would be incredibly annoying to be told about all your thoughts and feelings from another person, as if she understands better than you do," Severus said, admittedly hoping to distract Harry. He got little reaction, however.

Harry shrugged, and said, "You get used to it after a while. It's a little comforting, actually, to know someone pays so much attention."

Severus could not imagine how anyone would find being constantly analyzed at all comforting. To him, comfort came in the form of remaining an enigma, distancing himself from those who sought to discover his secrets. He chose not to continue the conversation, for he could not understand Harry's point of view and had an idea that stating his own opinion on the matter would somehow cause Harry to take offence.

The silence gradually became more and more noticeable, causing Harry to fidget a bit in his seat. Severus could deal with uncomfortable periods of quiet; they often followed his particularly opinionated diatribes in the staff rooms and at gatherings that he was forced to attend. He went on eating dinner, while Harry sat across from him, thinking of something that would break the silence.

"So," Harry said nervously after a few moments, "nice weather today, isn't it?"

Severus snorted and set down his fork. "Hardly," he drawled, raising an eyebrow to indicate the window behind Harry. The sky was a melancholy grey, and a mist that forecasted icy rain was beginning to settle over the ground. "I can't believe you're really stooping so low as to comment on the weather," Severus added, though he did look amused.

Harry knitted his brows together and turned his head in question. "What do you mean?"

Severus let out a low laugh and silently shook his head. Harry deepened his frown, further baffled by Severus' odd response to his question. He sat in a general state of befuddlement while Severus continued with dinner, until the man looked up and noticed that he was still pondering what had been meant. Severus smiled to himself at this; it wasn't a friendly smile, nor could it be called amused- it was almost a smile of appreciation for Harry's qualities.

"I only intended to say," Severus said, finally taking mercy on his perplexed son, "that it was entertaining to watch you turn to the age old social grace of commenting on the lovely weather, even when it is an absolutely awful day, simply to avoid the ever sinister 'awkward silence'."

"Oh," Harry said lamely, feeling rather dumb for not having figured out what Severus had meant right away. He supposed he must have been more concentrated on Severus' intent than he had been on the meaning of the words.

"A letter arrived for you earlier, by the way," Severus informed him soon after, passing up the opportunity to mock Harry's lack of understanding.

This seemed to make Harry even more uncomfortable as he had been before, and perhaps a little stunned. Harry's fork clattered to his plate and he made a quick recovery, acting as though he had meant to set it down. He looked up and turned his head to the side, trying to keep his face relaxed. "Really?" he responded, scratching the back of his neck. Noticing after a moment, however, that Severus was intently watching this gesture, he stopped and jerked his hand back down to his lap. "It came this afternoon?"

Severus nodded mildly, sensing Harry's tension and attempting to be sensitive to it. "Yes, Hedwig brought it to the study window. It seems she's not yet accustomed to leaving all letters with the Elf."

Harry swallowed at this, and Severus returned his gaze to his food. He knew what Harry was thinking; he was worried about Severus' reaction, and worried that he would be questioned over the letter. Though Severus couldn't say he was pleased about his correspondence with Lupin, he certainly wasn't going to tell him he couldn't have it, and given Harry's sudden fear about his reaction, he wasn't going to interrogate him about it either. "I set the letter on your bed," he told him.

Harry nodded and relaxed visibly, though he still looked wary of Severus' intentions. He was unsure why Severus had not yet mentioned Lupin's name, nor had his expression hardened. He waited a moment, and then said carefully, "I thought you would be angry."

Severus lifted his head, expression benign. "Why would I be angry?" he questioned. Admittedly, he already had a fair idea, but that was merely supposition.

Harry looked down, and said quietly, "Well, I just thought, after what happened…"

Severus frowned and set his fork down, focusing his attention on Harry. "Harry, I am not fond of Lupin. We've already established this fact in the past, and as he is your friend, I will not torture you by reiterating it every time I am given the chance. Though I was not pleased by his actions today, I cannot use that as an excuse to limit your contact with him. It is your choice whether or not to do so."

"Does that mean you think I should?" Harry asked. His tone was not defensive; he seemed to be searching for an honest answer.

Severus sighed. At one time, he would have lied and given Harry a long list of reasons why he should cut all ties with the werewolf. However, if he was being honest with himself, that was not in Harry's best interest. "What I think shouldn't matter," he said after a moment. "However, for what it's worth, I do think it is possible to have contact with someone without believing in his or her point of view."

"So…" Harry said unsurely, narrowing his eyes and gesturing for Severus to continue.

"So, summarily, I trust you to make the appropriate decision on your own," Severus said, lifting his brows. "I will not stop you either way."

Harry seemed taken aback by this. He blinked and sat back in his chair, reflecting on what Severus has said. After a little while, he sat forward again, and started, "Thanks for not being-"

"Thank me by not finishing that sentence," Severus warned, though the smirk on his face indicated that he was more amused than irritated. Harry opened his mouth, probably to refute what he had said, but Severus waved him off dismissively. "In all seriousness, thanks are not necessary."

Unwilling to argue, Harry closed his mouth and nodded, picking up his fork and resuming the intake of his meal. Severus seemed contented when Harry dropped the subject, and feeling a bit more at ease than before, relaxed his posture and reached to rip off another piece of bread. He saw Severus watching him disapprovingly as he grabbed the loaf and tore, but as he said nothing, Harry decided to finish the task anyways.

"So," Severus said, taking a sip of his dark red wine. "Did you enjoy your walk in the gardens today?"

Harry was unsure how to answer this question. To be asked about the state of the grounds had a simple enough answer: they needed work. As to his enjoyment...it had been cold, miserable, and rather lonely, but he had been fond of his time out of the house and could see this as an opportunity to ask about its history. "It was something new to do," he found himself saying, swallowing the food he had in his mouth and reaching with his sleeve up to his face to wipe off the mushroom sauce. He became suddenly conscious of his bad display of manners when Severus grimaced, and apologetically reached for his napkin, dabbing at the corners of his mouth. "Have you ever really explored them?"

Severus' expression suddenly became very serious, and he stared at Harry for only a second. He briefly nodded and continued his meal, saying nothing more. Harry frowned, having expected a more elaborate explanation. Severus was always either a man of many words or a man of few; Harry found himself disappointed that he had chosen the latter on this topic of great interest.

"You said you didn't live here as a child…" Harry prompted, looking at Severus inquisitively. The man didn't answer. "Did you visit?"

Again, he received the same curt nod, though this time it was without so much as eye contact. "Often?"

"No," Severus said in a quiet, dangerous tone. Harry hadn't expected this.

"Should I-"

"I do not wish to discuss the house," Severus said evenly, refusing to lift his eyes from his plate. His voice held no malice, but he certainly didn't sound at all pleased with Harry's probing.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, and Severus looked up almost by instinct, silencing him with a foreboding glare. Harry quickly thought better of arguing and went back to finishing what was on his plate. He was rather disappointed; he knew Severus did not like to talk about his past, but he had told Harry on occasion that he would share bits of it with him over time. Harry had hoped, stupidly, that today might be one of those times. But what had he been thinking? The way he'd used Severus' past against him the previous night, who could blame the man for wanting to keep his secrets?

Harry briefly debated whether or not the issue ought to be pushed. It was something he was interested in, but also to be taken into account was the fact that this was a matter of privacy for Severus. Part of Harry recognized that the man didn't owe him any explanations about his childhood, yet the other part of him felt that if he had shared his past with his father, he ought to be given the same courtesy.

Ultimately it was the sagacious road of discretion which Harry chose. He continued to eat his meal in silence, and placed enormous amounts of energy into the task of appearing unbothered. Little did he know; this tactic was far more effective against his father than any form of argument he might have devised.

Though Severus kept his expression stony with the intent of intimidating Harry out of asking any more questions, he soon found himself wondering when the boy would protest, and when Harry let the topic drop, beginning to feel rather guilty for expecting immaturity and opposition. Severus sighed heavily and set down his fork. "I will tell you about the house," he relented, though he still seemed disinclined to tell Harry anything, "but not over dinner, and not here."

Harry waited for Severus to tell him when and where, but when Severus resumed picking at the remainder of his meal, Harry was forced to prompt, "So, where would you like to talk then?"

Severus looked mildly annoyed as he set down his fork again and lifted his head, but nevertheless responded, "I have to make a trip to Hogwarts tonight. I need to check on the remaining students of my house and affirm that nothing has gone amiss. Perhaps we can speak there."

"So-"

"Then and only there, Harry," Severus abruptly interrupted, the snappishness of his tone suggesting that he was very close to some breaking point. "May we please conclude the remainder of this meal in silence?"

Chastened, Harry hastily bowed his head and tried to conceal the wounded expression that crossed his face. He wasn't especially hungry anymore, but felt that eating in spite of this was the wisest choice to be made.

Severus made a point of finishing before Harry and rose from the table. "Finish your meal," he instructed tiredly, irritated by the twinge of remorse he felt for snapping at Harry when he realized that the boy had taken such offence. "I need to make a few arrangements before we leave; we may well be spending the night at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded without looking up, thinking to himself that it would be nice to visit such familiar territory and that if Severus was as comforted by that atmosphere as he felt likely to be, perhaps the man's mood would improve.

As soon as Severus left the room, Harry rose from the table and headed to his room. If he was going to stay the night at Hogwarts, there were a few things he had to do before he left as well.

xxx

Though it had been only a few short days since they had been here, Harry felt as though he hadn't seen the castle in ages. For safety related purposes, Dumbledore had barred the use of the floo connections for the duration of the Christmas Holidays, therefore prompting Harry and Severus to apparate to the gates and walk up to the castle. Longer distances had been walked before, Harry supposed, but with the stiff silence that surrounded them and the cold air beating against his already dry skin, the walk was excruciatingly slow-going.

"I will walk you down to my rooms," Severus informed Harry when they finally reached the doors and slid inside the warm building. Harry nodded and looked around, rubbing his arms. "I'm going to visit my Slytherins immediately, and I'm not sure how long that will take, so you may make yourself comfortable."

"Alright," Harry agreed, following Severus down the stairs. He asked no questions and made no attempt at conversation; the last thing he wanted was to be snapped at again. He felt a bit like a sheep, treading along behind his father like this, but there was nothing for it. He was still working at keeping his father's temper at bay.

"Don't leave," Severus instructed him shortly as he unlocked the door to his rooms and stepped inside to set his things down on the table. "I don't want you wandering the castle or running up to Gryffindor tower to visit your friends before I've spoken with Dumbledore about a few things. Is that understood?"

Harry frowned, but nodded anyways. He didn't completely understand; this was Hogwarts- what harm could come to him here?

"I need to hear you say it, Harry," Severus said, eyeing Harry carefully.

Harry rolled his eyes, but obliged. "Fine. I won't leave the rooms until you've spoken with Dumbledore." Severus raised his eyebrow doubtfully, and Harry added with what seemed to be complete seriousness, "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

Severus opened his mouth to respond, then suddenly frowned and snapped it shut. "What?"

Harry shook his head. "Never mind."

"So I have your word then?"

"Yes."

"Good," Severus said, stepping out the door again. "I'll try to be back before long."

Harry nodded with exaggerated solemnity and held his two forefingers to his head, saluting Severus as he continued to close the door.

"Hilarious," Severus said dryly, closing the door with a final snap.

Harry sat down in the nearest chair and watched the door, waiting to see if Severus would walk back through it. When five minutes passed and it seemed that Severus was gone for good, Harry felt secure enough to rise from his seat and begin exploring the quarters.

Harry had never been in here without his father before, and he found it rather strange. While he was becoming more comfortable with the thought of sharing space with his father, it was odd to be left alone in his rooms in the castle. They seemed rather empty without his presence; something was left wanting. Harry realized now that the atmosphere of these rooms was much colder and lonelier than that of the house; they were not necessarily gloomy but they were indeed dark, if not a tad gothic, in their styling.

Like the house, these rooms contained very few decorations. They were not lavishly furnished or overwhelmed by a myriad of expensive items to prove that Severus was well off, but they were, as was Severus' custom, practically and tastefully done. Harry could not find any portraits to speak of, and found himself wondering what on earth the man had against paintings.

Feeling a bit more familiarized with his surroundings, Harry wandered over to the sitting area and sat down on the couch. Shivering, he slid down to the end and peered into the fireplace. He would have liked to start a fire to kindle and heat the room, but found himself out of luck for a lack of wood. Frowning, Harry looked around for one of Severus' blankets to wrap around himself until Severus could return and tell him how to go about creating a fire with no wood.

Unable to find any blankets draped over the couch, Harry went into the room he had slept in several times throughout the school year and found folded up on the end of his bed the khaki blanket he'd become partial to using. He smiled slightly at this and lifted it off the bed, unfolding and shaking it out. He wrapped it tightly around himself and shuffled back out to the living room.

What Harry had not been expecting was to find Professor Dumbledore standing in the middle of the sitting area, smiling brightly at him. He stopped dead in his tracks, dropped his jaw and pointed at the door. "What- how did you-"

"I am the Headmaster of this school, Harry," Dumbledore informed him. "I need to know how to get around it, don't I?"

"I- what- does my father know you're here?"

"Oh, I'm sure he had an idea I might pop in," Dumbledore said evasively, taking a seat on the couch. "Won't you sit down and speak with me?"

Harry sank slowly to the couch, watching Dumbledore warily. He sincerely hoped that the man would be gone by the time Severus got here; he had an idea that Dumbledore's random appearance would put him in a far worse mood than anything else had that day, and there was still a good portion of the day left.

"So, is there something specific you wanted to talk to me about, or…?"

"Yes, actually," Dumbledore admitted, sobering slightly. "I'll get straight to the point, I suppose, as I can see you are anxious for me to do so."

"Well, it's not that I don't want to talk to you, it's just-"

"I understand; I'm not entirely sure I want to be here when your father returns, either," Dumbledore confessed, chuckling to himself. "But I did want to talk to you about what has happened over the last several days."

Harry had suspected as much. He shrugged, not knowing where to begin, or what Dumbledore wanted to hear. "What about it?" he responded in unconvincingly casual tones.

"I should like you to corroborate the story I was told, in a word," Dumbledore clarified, shifting forward to explain further. "I trust Severus, naturally. However, I want to know that both of you view the situation in… a similar way."

Ah. So he wanted to know if Severus had lied about what had happened. Uncomfortable with the notion of possibly getting his father into trouble with Dumbledore, Harry shrugged lamely. "There's not much to tell."

"I won't speak to him about any discrepancies, Harry," Dumbledore assured him, "if that makes things any better for you."

Harry nodded to show that he understood, and reluctantly began. "My friends came over that night, and wound up staying for dinner. Ginny and he argued about a few things; they were insignificant, for the most part, but I think my father took more offence than Ginny had intended. He dismissed them rather rudely, with no consideration with how I felt on the topic. I suppose I was too angry with him to realize that I was goading him, but I guess I did."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "How did Severus react to that?"

"He was patient, at first. But when I said that thing about my mother-"

"And what was that?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then paused. "You don't already know?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Severus only told me that he had reacted violently to something you had said out of anger. He never told me what that was."

"Oh," Harry uttered, stunned. He had thought that Dumbledore would have been told; it had always been Severus' custom to disparage others to make his actions seem excusable. Apparently, he hadn't used this tactic… and for that, Harry was thankful. "I think I'd rather keep that between him and me, then."

"Harry-"

"Listen; is it really necessary to know what was said as long as I freely admit he had cause to be angry?"

"You know you didn't deserve what happened, Harry," Dumbledore said, lifting his eyebrows and looking down his long, crooked nose at the boy. "No one should be manhandled like that, despite the preceding actions."

"I know that," Harry said wearily. "I don't think his actions were right; I'm just saying that I understand why he took them. Listen- is it really that important to recount the story? If you want to know something important, ask me why I decided to stay. I think he deserves a second chance; I think everyone does. He was horrified with his own actions, I know that now… and yeah, I do still feel a little uncomfortable around him now. I do worry that something like this could happen in the future. I am willing, however, to take the chance if it may also lead to a greater outcome."

It took some time for Dumbledore to consider this. He watched Harry carefully, his forehead wrinkled with the telltale lines of deep thought. Finally, he sat back again, and asked calmly, "Are you happy with him, then?"

Harry closed his eyes; he hated questions like these, he really did. He nodded his head and said carefully, "For the moment… things are improving, but still… they are still uncomfortable. But I do know that I feel safer with him than I've ever felt before. I feel like someone is there for me, not just as a friend but as someone to help me through the next few years… and maybe even after that. Those things- those things that I have missed my whole life- those make me happy."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes pensively, seemingly absorbing all of this. "I still have hope that you two will be good for each other, and clearly I think you are capable of doing so or else I would not allow you to remain with him. I want you to know, however, that if something else like this happens… you may come to me. You're almost an adult, Harry. Don't ever feel trapped by the fact that you would be replaced under the guardianship of the Dursleys, and don't worry that Severus will continue to haunt you if you choose to make such a decision."

"I don't really think he would do that… if anything, I would haunt myself over it." Harry paused then, looking suddenly confused, and asked, "Don't I have to go back to the Dursleys this summer anyway?"

"Yes," Dumbledore admitted. "But technically, as they are not your sole guardians, they can no longer refuse to let you leave if Severus should decide that you may."

"So I could come visit him this summer, then?"

Dumbledore had difficulty hiding the smile that crept up on his face at this. "Yes, you may visit him in the summer, provided he has no objections."

"I am sure I would not, Albus," Severus' voice responded, the sound simultaneous with the opening of the door. "But as grateful as I am to hear that you have finally made a decision on this matter, I must ask what on earth you are doing here in my quarters."

Both Harry and Albus rose from where they were seated, though Dumbledore's ascent was a tad more graceful and calm than Harry's clumsy leap to his feet.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted him cordially, as though nothing was out of sorts.

"You may skip the formality, Headmaster," Severus told him, keeping his expression as level as his tone, "and answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"There's no need for hostility, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "I came to speak with Harry."

Harry got the distinct feeling that Dumbledore had been about to add something to that, but Severus spoke again before it was possible.

"You realize you needn't maneuver your way behind my back and into my quarters to speak with him, don't you? Aren't you always the one lecturing on using Slytherin tactics to achieve every goal?"

"Severus, I don't appreciate what you are implying."

"And I don't appreciate that you are implying that I am so unreasonable that I will not let you speak with my son. You could have easily waited for me to speak with you first, or at least knocked when you came to my rooms."

"I didn't-"

"I was alerted the moment the wards were breached, Albus. I don't even let a House Elf in here without my presence, what makes you think I wouldn't have guarded my quarters against my fellow staff?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Well, my apologies, Severus, if you thought I had an ulterior motive. I assure you, I did not intend to insinuate that you were in any way unreasonable. You are, after all, such a rational man. Good day, Severus."

And with that, Dumbledore moved past him towards the door, giving Harry a small nod in his departure.

Severus stood in his place for a moment, apparently contemplating what to do. After a moment, he whirled around and made to follow the Headmaster. He didn't get far, however. Harry jumped forward and grabbed his arm from behind, trying to keep him from going.

Severus turned his head and raised his eyebrows in warning, but Harry stood his ground. "Just leave it at that," he said softly, slowly releasing Severus' arm. "It isn't worth it to go after him."

"Ah," Severus said somewhat bitterly. "Is this going to be another one of those speeches that end in my being told that I'm not proving anything?"

Harry frowned, slightly irritated that Severus would assume that. "No," he said seriously, going back to the couch. "I would just rather not see you two fight. Besides… it's almost Christmas."

This abrupt reminder captured Severus' full attention, and the poorly concealed look of hopefulness on Harry's face did not escape him. "That it is," he agreed vaguely, softening his expression and making a concentrated effort to forget his agitation with Dumbledore. He continued to stand for a moment, his gazed fixed on something undefined. Nodding as if to himself, he drifted hazily to the couch and took his seat. After a moment, he trained his dark eyes on Harry, expression indecipherable and ambiguous. He said nothing, but the normal intensity his dark eyes held was transformed into something less daunting; it was something that instantly put Harry at an inexplicable ease and almost tangibly relaxed the stiff atmosphere.

For once, Harry found himself able to meet his father's eyes. He was unsure what had occurred in that moment that had changed his demeanour with such rapidity, though he longed to learn so that he could replicate the effect at later times. The corners of his lips turned upwards into a grin that was not borne of happiness, but rather established his acknowledgement of the comfortable moment they were sharing. In that moment, there was understanding that what had been damaged could be fixed, and Harry felt safe enough to let down his guard.

"For what it's worth," Harry said quietly, "Nothing Dumbledore or anyone else has said affects the way I think about you."

"I believe we should abandon this particular topic, Harry," Severus said gently, not quite in way of rebuke, but rather in advisory.

"I know, I just… I want you to know that my opinion of you is my own. I'm not bound to let anyone change it except you."

"I suppose that can be either positive or negative," Severus commented, raising his eyebrows and dropping his gaze from Harry's face.

"If you want to know, for the most part, it's been positive."

Severus raised his eyes quickly, studying his son's face closely. He could see that the boy was sincere, though he could not determine why he would say such a thing. Had Severus not given him ample reason to doubt both his skill as a parent and worth as a person? Was it really possible that this boy was always as forgiving as this, so that even when Severus betrayed him with a most grievous offence, he could redeem himself through mere penance?

"Listen, Dad," Harry said softly, sitting forward and, in an act of both compassion and boldness, taking his father's hand in his. "I think you have a tendency towards believing that every wrongdoing has to be paid off in some way in order to receive any sort of forgiveness. But not everything is so black and white; there are certain things that can be forgiven under certain circumstances regardless of whether or not they are deserved. And just so you know, I only say that because I know you don't think you deserve a lot of the things you get; I do. You've been really good to me, apart from a few mishaps… generally speaking, this is the best I've ever had it. I think it would be easier to put this all behind us if you forgave yourself the way I do, or the way you've forgiven me. We're only human; we're not meant to be perfect. You can't revert back to this state of self-hatred every time something goes wrong."

It was amazing to Severus that so much maturity could be gained in such a short amount of time. This year had been one of tremendous emotional and mental growth for Harry, though Severus did not often realize just how greatly these things had improved. Part of him wondered if he had had a hand in that, or if it was merely a consequence of the hard life the boy had been dealt. As he looked down at their clasped hands, he realized that Harry was not the only one who might have benefited from the past year. Until now, he had not been aware of the fact that he felt no inclination to pull away from his son or negate his words. For once, he felt comfortable speaking with him on such terms, and rather enjoyed feeling so. At the same time, it seemed strange that now, after such an undulation had occurred in the formerly tranquil fluidity of the dark waters that were their relationship, they understood each other better than ever.

"You've been reflecting on this quite a lot," Severus observed quietly, giving Harry's hand a squeeze and rising from the couch.

"More than I realized, I guess," Harry admitted, glad not to have received any mordant comments about his sentiments or where they had arisen from. "But I do mean it."

"I know you do," Severus intoned, moving towards the tea pot that never seemed to rest when they were there together.

"Will you at least consider what I said?"

"Harry," Severus started, turning his head and showing an unexpected smile. "It may have escaped your attention, but I consider almost everything you say. For instance," he said, turning and holding up the tea pot. "I am considering what you said about tea tasting better coming from a traditionally heated tea pot rather than from the tip of a wand. If I take note of such trivial pieces of advice, surely you do not think that I would ignore your larger attributions of wisdom."

"You think what I said was wise?" Harry questioned, apparently stunned by this revelation.

"You're growing up, Harry," Severus admitted mildly, filling the pot. "I'm beginning to think that perhaps you ought to be given more credit than you normally receive for statements that could be considered so profound."

Harry was not accustomed to swelling with pride, but at that moment, he knew it was precisely what he was doing. He could think of few things Severus had said to him that were so akin to praise as this, and almost felt childish for feeling so elated at what he saw as a form of elaborate extolment, at least coming from this man. Secure in his deduction that any sort of response that he was likely to formulate in this moment would serve little purpose other than to embarrass his father, he resigned himself to keeping his smile contained and his glee confined within him. He crossed his legs under him and sat back against the arm of the couch, sitting in a stance that he knew looked boyish for all the approval that had just been expressed at his maturity, yet unable to care at this particular moment. For some reason, he felt confident that Severus would not judge him. It seemed odd that all at once, simply due to the commendation from his father, he suddenly felt quite untroubled and able to be himself.

Within a short amount of time, Harry's thoughts drifted to the reason he had wanted to speak with Severus tonight. In view of the things that they had just discussed, it seemed untactful to now mention a subject to which Severus was so abject. Still, he was unsure when they would return to the castle, and his father had already expressed his negative sentiments to discussing the topic of his history at the house.

Apparently, the silence spoke for itself. It prompted Severus to abruptly begin the story; Harry admittedly was not surprised by this. Severus often liked to begin difficult conversations while doing something to distract himself.

"I have told you that I was not raised in that house," Severus began, his voice neither as irritable as it had been the last time the topic had been raised, nor as mild as it had been in prior moments. "But perhaps I gave you the false impression that we never visited, or that my father found something to be wanting with the estate. Neither of these was the case.

"The house has been in the family for over two centuries. It was once a very prestigious place; it was not a castle, but it was both beautiful and terrifying in its greatness, and was widely respected by purebloods. It was given the utmost care and the name that was attached to it was given highest respect."

"So your family is pureblooded, then?" Harry interjected, intrigued by this notion.

"No," Severus said shortly, with a definitive shake of his head. "Many generations back, there was a man by the name of Etarus Snape who saw fit to break the tradition of marrying into only pureblooded families. He was the sole heir at that time, and thought to be perhaps the last of the Snape line when his mother and father were both deceased. Few women were interested in him; he had no great looks to speak of, as many of the Snape men have not, and refused to spend his inherited money. He had a philosophy that he ought to work for it himself; it seemed an insult to live off of money someone else had earned and left to him. While… noble…" Severus said with a measured amount of distaste, moving towards the couch with tea in hand, "this is hardly an attractive set of qualities to any self respecting pureblooded woman. I have been told, however, that he was one of the few romantics in our family, and had fanciful ideals on love, marriage, and the like. He was the first to take a woman who was not wholly pureblood. She was close to it, make no mistake, but she had a distant affiliation with a great muggle philosopher, and the name was so well known that her family could hardly obscure their lineage.

"Etarus was hardly concerned with the material things the Snape Manor had to offer. He released many of the house elves, bothered by their constant fawning over him and scarcely concealed disgust for his wife. Tibby was one of the elves left, and is clearly the only one that remains to this day.

"Without the masses of elves to tend to it, the house began to fall into a state of disarray, and though Etarus worked hard to keep it in a presentable state, when he passed away his wife took their four young children and moved back in with her parents. No one returned to that house for years, and only Tibby wished to stay when their mistress told them they were free to find other families. It was too large of an estate for one elf to keep, and over the next seventy years, no one returned to that house."

Severus paused to sip his tea, observing the swirls of amber liquid in his cup with a distant expression. Harry longed to prompt him to continue, but allowed his father to take his time in telling the story. It was a long winded explanation, apparently, and Harry could not demonstrate such ungratefulness as to hurry Severus along.

Feeling Harry's gaze resting on him, Severus finally looked up from his tea. His expression turned from thoughtful to somber once more, and he reluctantly continued his story.

"Many years later, Etarus' youngest son was the one who would finally return to the house. He was the most concerned with material things of all the other children, and was intent on restoring the name Snape to prestige. He took a pureblooded Russian Witch, whose family had not learned of the tainting of the bloodline, as his wife, using a great deal of his own inheritance to pay for her. They moved back into the house, but it failed to become a home. They had a poor marriage, filled with violence and misfortune, and things became no better when they had children.

"I will not bore you with the details of the years following, but it should be noted that over time, through this line, our line became mainly pureblooded once more. Few people knew the history behind the name, and the more superficial members of my family were quite concerned with keeping it that way. The house was never restored to its original pristine state, but we were entering an era where the title of 'pureblood' had come to be attached to the darker side of Wizardry, and the sinister elements of the estate became appealing to those of our line. I do not believe that evil is inherited, but I do know that the Dark Arts have long been an unfortunate temptation for those of our line, and more than a few succumbed to its allure.

"A generation before me, there was a member of our family who resembled Etarus in every fashion. This person had a great sense of nobility, a head filled with romantic ideals of love over materialism, and a streak of kindness unheard of in the family name. There was only one thing holding this person back: she was a woman."

Harry frowned at this, and opened his mouth to voice his discontent with this notion. Severus, however, forestalled him with a raised hand, and explained, "It was a very different time, you must remember.

"My Aunt Seremis was possibly the best example of a true member of humanity with naturally good qualities in my family. As a young boy, I was taught to despise all her elements of purity and compassion, but as I grew older, I came to appreciate them far more than the hard hand of my father. Had it been a later time, she might have redeemed the Snape name in the eyes of the now mixed blood society. In this time period, however, she was forced to marry another pureblood, and though I do not think he ever treated her as unkindly as my father treated my mother, I know she was limited in the amount that she could do.

"My father," Severus continued, nearly spitting the word every time he was forced to utter it, "unlike my Aunt, could not find a decent pureblood to speak of. His own parents urged him to seek a foreign wife, and insisted that she would be best suited for him, as many of them were far more passive than the British witches of the age. He refused, however. He liked to tell others that it was because he wanted a woman with a personality; I think it was that he wanted a challenge when it came to crushing her spirit. He wanted to break her in himself.

"My father married a half-blooded witch, unaware of how intense his own father's streak of vengeance was. He was denied the inheritance of the house and the money, and it was given to my Aunt. Naturally, this created quite a bit of bitterness in my father… I'm sure it was one of the contributing factors to the way he treated my mother and I. He saw us as the reason he was robbed of his inheritance.

"As I was growing up, my father paid a great number of visits to my Aunt at that place. He would often drag my mother and me along on weekend trips, and spend the entire time attempting to persuade my Aunt to give him what was 'rightfully his'. I always dreaded those trips."

"I thought you said your Aunt was kind?"

Severus nodded. "She was. It was going home after the trips that I found so miserable. Every time my father failed, he used my mother and me as an outlet for his vehement fits of pique. Those were some of the worst times I faced as a child. The worst part of it was that my Aunt always treated me so well when I was there… and I always knew I would have to leave right after. I knew that for every kindness I was shown while in her home, it would be repaid in full when I returned to my own home… if you could call it that."

"Did your Aunt know?"

"She did," Severus confirmed, casting his gaze to the ground. "She begged my mother to let me stay with her. She couldn't have any children of her own, and she knew what I went through every time we returned."

Harry frowned deeply, and asked tentatively, "And your mother wouldn't let you stay?"

Severus shook his head bitterly, lips thinning. "I think she understood that to allow me to leave was to focus all of my father's rage on her. She tried to protect me at times, but she knew… she knew that if I wasn't there, she would receive every blow meant for me. She was not the sort of woman to sacrifice herself for another, up until the end."

"Up until the end?"

"You know this- my father killed her when she attempted to protect me one last time… I suppose he had had enough."

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment, not knowing what else he could offer to his father. The man kept a stoic face, and restricted his tones to the most even levels he could achieve, yet Harry knew that reliving this tale was torturing him on the inside. "You didn't deserve that."

"What's past is past," Severus said quietly, refusing to acknowledge Harry's condolences. "I ask for no sympathy, and would prefer if this topic were not raised in conversation in the near future."

Though this felt like somewhat of a rebuke, Harry could find no other response than to politely respect Severus' wishes. The two sat in silence; Harry tried not to gaze sadly at his father as not to make him uncomfortable, and Severus carefully avoided eye contact.

"I worried so much," Severus found himself saying a moment later, though he could not recall what had prompted him to speak, "that your mother and I would end up like my own father and mother."

"She was too strong willed for that," Harry assured him, only to be corrected quickly.

"You should hear the stories that are told of my mother before she was wed to my father," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. "You would have said the same of her."

"But you are nothing like the man that raised you."

"Nothing, Harry?" Severus questioned skeptically, rising and moving to rest his palm on the mantle of the fireplace. "I literally threw your mother from our home when she came to me that night. I had you against the wall within seconds for an offence I should have recognized as a childish fit of temper. Tell me these things resemble nothing that man did to me. Tell me where I learned such things."

"To be perfectly fair, if the situations were reversed, I probably would have done the same thing," Harry admitted, rising and moving to where Severus stood. "Anger is… difficult to deal with, and sometimes we overreact… but it doesn't mean that you are the abusive bastard who raised you."

"Harry-"

"And don't you dare tell me to watch my language because that was completely called for," Harry quickly replied, forcing the first look of amusement he'd seen on Severus' face in quite some time. It quickly disappeared, however, and turned solemn once more.

"I have committed greater crimes than these, Harry," Severus told him, closing his eyes. "I can try, but I am not an inherently good man."

"Well, you're not inherently bad, either," Harry negated, becoming angry now. He couldn't stand to listen to his father disparage himself so. "You've done a great deal of good as well as bad- it all boils down to the choices you make. The ones you've made lately don't seem so bad."

Severus hung his head, shaking it slightly. "That doesn't erase what I've done."

"I thought 'what's past is past'," Harry challenged, raising his eyebrows. "You said it yourself."

"In case you haven't noticed Harry," Severus replied, half in good humour and half in complete seriousness, "I'm somewhat of a hypocrite."

xxx

Harry was glad when Severus and he arrived home on good terms. The day had been filled with an exhausting mix of emotions; the pleasant ones he was experiencing now were the only feelings he'd welcomed as of yet.

Severus dismissed him early, saying that it was best that both get to bed sooner rather than later. Though Harry knew Severus had no intention of lying to rest anytime soon, he was sure Severus was thinking on the same terms as he was. Things had gone well thus far this evening; it was best not to tempt fate.

Harry wandered up the stairs, thinking to himself that there was another advantage to going to bed early. Lying forgotten atop his gold duvet was Lupin's missive, and Harry was suddenly seized by a sense of anticipation and curiosity at what it contained. Remembering the nature of the message he'd sent first, part of him wondered if the contents would bring his night to a new level of contentment, or if they would bring is satisfaction to an abrupt halt.

Harry entered his room and it instantly illuminated, permitting Harry to gaze around at the warmly accented chamber. He smiled softly, realizing how much like home it was beginning to feel; he suddenly felt comforted. Closing the door behind himself, he stepped into the room and walked over to the bed. He hesitantly reached towards the rectangular envelope and picked it up, sliding onto his bed.

The wax seal had not been broken; Severus really hadn't read the letter, unless he had gone to some elaborate measures to make sure Harry wouldn't be able to find out. Though heartened by this, it was difficult to move past the feelings of anxiety dwelling within. Harry supposed the only way to lessen the apprehension, however, was simply to get it over with.

Harry slid the tri-folded piece of parchment out of the envelope, and unfolded it slowly. He scanned the page briefly, getting an idea of the tone with which it had been written. Seeing no blatantly abhorrent words, Harry was somewhat soothed. He allowed his eyes to move back up to the top, and read the letter in its entirety.

Dear Harry,

I'm glad that you wrote to me. It brings me peace of mind to know that you are not as upset with me as I might have guessed, though I am bothered by your belief that I would be so condescending as to refuse to consider the fact that you may be doing the right thing in this situation, and feel the need to explain myself so that you will not think the very worst of me.

You needn't apologize to me for your actions; I want to make that very clear. Perhaps because I was so fervent in my attempts to make you reconsider you were given the idea that I would be angry if you did not listen. At the time, I was upset that you went with him, but my anger and disappointment were not directed towards you. Upon reflection, and after speaking with Dumbledore, I have faith that you made the most appropriate decision possible at the time. I'm also proud that you are beginning to express such independence, if I may say so. It is good to see you growing up so well, Harry, and though at times I am loathe to admit it, I am beginning to think that Severus' involvement in your life has something to do with that.

I still want you to know that you may always come to me. Whatever you feel you need to talk about, or if you need help out of a bad situation, I am here to help and guide you should you need it. I am beginning to think that perhaps you are feeling smothered by my, and others', attempts to constantly steer you in the right direction. You must understand that in my eyes, you are still a best friend's son, and I feel the habitual need to protect you. I know that's not always what you need, but it's difficult to feel otherwise.

I should be seeing you on Boxing Day if you go to the Weasley's, but if I do not, I should like to hear from you soon.

Keep in touch,

R.J. Lupin

Harry set down the letter, feeling more than slightly relieved. Not only was Lupin completely amenable to the actions Harry had taken the previous day, but any anger remaining in Harry over how Lupin had behaved was now completely absent.

Later that night, as Harry lied down to go to sleep, he thought that perhaps there was something valuable to the old truism about not going to bed angry. Apparently, it did quite a bit for one's ability to fall asleep peacefully, and Harry didn't mind that feeling at all.

xxx

Severus could not remember having enjoyed very many Christmases in the past. Lily had always shaped the day into something tolerable, perhaps even enjoyable, but they had spent a limited amount of years together and therefore very few holidays.

Today, however, was a very different day. As much as Severus was dreading certain aspects of this, there were parts he was looking forward to as well. He hadn't had any desired company present on his last decade or so of Christmases; today, he was pleased with the prospect of spending it with his son. Harry had come to develop the same instinctive skill that Lily had honed- he managed to make events such as these as gratifying and lacking as much embarrassment as possible.

In a surprisingly sanguine (if one could ever describe Severus as such) frame of mind, Severus started his morning, as usual, very early. After reading in the library to pass some time, he ordered Tibby to have breakfast ready whenever Harry awoke. He made the last preparations for the day, putting the final touches on his own gifts for Harry and placing the gifts that had arrived from others under the tree that he had, at the very last moment, finally decided to erect, only for the sake of giving Harry a Christmas like neither of them had experienced during childhood. Harry was only a year away from legal adulthood, it was true, but Severus was adamant that he might still experience some of the pleasures most children were able to enjoy.

xxx

Harry could not remember having enjoyed any Christmases he hadn't spent at Hogwarts, and he certainly could not recall having been so childishly enthused for one since first year. When he awoke that morning, he simply stared up at the canopy above his head, wiggling his toes in attempt to rid himself of the inexplicable amount of excitement with which he felt was bursting. He didn't want to rush downstairs; he would be embarrassed to admit to Severus how eager he was to begin the day. Instead, he allowed himself to stay in bed and suffer, until he decided it was late enough to rise.

Harry opened his wardrobe and pulled out a deep green dressing robe that had been there when he had arrived. He hadn't worn it up until now, simply because he was sure it was intended to represent Slytherin, but he supposed it would make Severus rather happy to see that he was using it. As he tied the robe shut, he considered the wrapped presents sitting on the shelf below his hanging clothes. He supposed that Severus would want to have breakfast and such before exchanging gifts, and that he would look rather over-zealous, running down the stairs with presents in hand.

Harry shut the wardrobe doors and exited his room, realizing belatedly that he had forgotten to put on a pair of socks to keep his feet warm. Huffing at this and turning around, as Severus would surely insist that he do so anyway, he walked quickly back into his room and put on a pair of overlarge black socks. He looked down at his covered toes and laughed a bit for no apparent reason, shaking his head to himself and leaving the room again.

As soon as Harry hit the bottom of the stairs, he caught the strong scent of various breakfast foods wafting through the air. He grinned, realizing he had been correct in assuming Severus would want to have breakfast first off. He peered into the kitchen and looked around. Breakfast was set, but Severus was nowhere to be seen. He turned around, intent on finding his father, only to realize that the man was standing directly behind him.

Unintentionally, Harry jumped a bit, a hand flying up to his rapidly beating heart. "Don't do that!" he exclaimed, warranting a laugh from his father.

"My apologies," Severus said, though he hardly sounded very repentant. "I was under the impression that you might have known I was standing behind you when you turned around. Constant vigilance, and all that."

Harry laughed lightly. "You heard about that?"

Severus shook his head, and quirked one side of his mouth upward. "You forget I've had to share a staff room with the man this year."

"No, I simply assumed you would do the wise thing and stay away from said staff room while said insane Auror was in it," Harry replied smartly, raising his eyebrows in a manner not unlike his father's.

"It is, unfortunately, unavoidable," Severus said, rolling his eyes and moving past Harry into the kitchen. "Dumbledore insists on at least weekly staff meetings."

"How unfortunate," Harry said in parody of sympathy, shaking his head and casting his eyes downward.

"Truly," Severus agreed flatly, beginning to place food on his plate. "Are you planning on eating this morning?" he inquired when Harry did not follow suit.

Harry instantly grabbed a plate and began piling his own dish with food. Since such a variety of things had been provided, and he found it nearly impossible to make a choice, he opted to have at least one helping of everything. Severus watched this affair with a quirked eyebrow, but said nothing until food began rolling off the plate.

"I can ask Tibby to bring an extra plate for you, if you would like," he offered, though his proposal was more in jest than genuineness.

Blushing slightly, Harry took the hint and set down his dish. Severus tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile as he shook his head and began on his own meal.

Breakfast was, by Harry's measure, a rather lengthy event. While normally he would be perfectly content to sit at the table and indulge in trivial conversation over a waffle or two, he was rather anxious to proceed with the festivities that this special day during the yuletide season required. He tried to sit patiently, waiting for Severus to finish his breakfast. He tried to keep from fidgeting and shifting around in his seat. He tried to contain the long sighs that would frequently escape him, earning a mildly entertained look from Severus.

Severus had an idea of what his son was waiting for. Still, he was taking a certain amount of vindictive pleasure in utilizing an inordinate amount of time to leisurely finish the small quantity of food he had served himself. He wondered vaguely if Harry knew that he was staring so intently at Severus, or if he was completely unaware that he was making his wishes so very obvious.

He could not help but laugh inwardly when he set down his fork and Harry rapidly moved to rise, only to watch Severus smile and pick up his cup of tea. Watching his son's face fixedly, he raised the cup to his lips and took a long sip, then lowered it back down slowly. Another exasperated sigh escaped Harry, and Severus' smirk intensified.

"Is there something bothering you, Harry?" he asked casually, taking another protracted sip.

Harry began to shake his head, but stopped halfway through. He hesitated, seemingly debating something within, and considered Severus for a long moment. Finally, a moment later, he nearly pleaded, "Come on…. How long does it take to finish a cup of tea?"

Severus snorted and set down his cup, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, fine," he relented at last, pushing his dishes back and rising. "We'll do presents."

Harry's face broke out into a wide grin, and he quickly rose from the table. "I'll be right back," he said quickly, all but bolting from the kitchen and towards the stairs.

Severus chuckled inwardly, thinking how ironic it was that he should be spending Christmas in such a fashion. Picking up his cup and draining the last of his tea in an uncharacteristically brisk manner, he summoned Tibby and asked her to clear the table.

Severus made his way into the den to wait for Harry, observing the curiously increased amounts of gifts he'd received this year in comparison to others. He rolled his eyes, thinking that many of the people who had sent Harry gifts had simply sent him something as well in an effort to be polite. Well, that was annoying.

Cursing the sheer amount of Gryffindors with whom his son was associated, Severus sat down on the couch and pulled a blanket over his legs, wishing he'd brought his tea with him. Tilting his head at an angle from which he could see out the door, he saw that Harry was already coming through the parlour towards him, gifts in hand. Apparently, he would have to have another cup of tea later.

Harry sat down on the couch next to Severus, the silly grin that he had left the kitchen with still in place on his face. He watched Severus for a moment, who, unsure how to proceed, simply returned the observant stare.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said after a moment, grinning even wider. "I forgot to tell you."

Severus chuckled quietly. "I'm glad you told me; otherwise, I might have spent the day wondering whether it was indeed happy, or very, very sad."

"You know what I meant," Harry retorted, making a face. "Are you going to say it back?"

Severus laughed more loudly this time. "If I must. Happy Christmas, Harry."

Harry nodded happily, and quickly set his gifts in Severus lap. "Open the top one first."

"You are a militant gift giver, I must say," Severus quipped, though he complied and reached for the top one first. He felt rather ridiculous, unwrapping gifts like this. Most people didn't bother to decorate his presents; after his first few years of caustic remarks about the ridiculous décor of the holidays, especially the elaborate wrapping paper and such that people foolishly spent good money on, the few gifts he received from that point on were rarely wrapped in anything. Actually, a good third of his liquor stock had been supplied on holidays such as these, and none of them had come with any decorations.

Harry, however, had taken the time to wrap his gifts in a metallic black wrapping paper, which he assumed was supposed to be in coordination with nearly everything else Severus owned, and were topped with green and silver curls of ribbon. Severus was rather glad he hadn't gone so far as to buy him animated paper or something done in the obnoxious colours of Gryffindor. Strangely, the simplicity, yet quality, of this gesture were something Severus appreciated very much.

Severus opened the first gift- a small, flat, rectangular object- carefully. He was not one to rip into the paper with vigour and excitement, but rather, took his time neatly unwrapping. What he saw when he finished surprised him very much; out of the paper emerged a book, titled, "The Single Dad: How to Raise Your Teenage Son". He looked up at Harry in question, and saw that the boy was laughing.

"I'm not really trying to give you a hint or anything," Harry informed him between laughs. "I found it at this new shop they've put up in Hogsmeade- most of it is just peculiar things you'd find in the muggle world, but there is some random stuff that is supposed to be useful to Wizards too. It was between this and an apron that said, "Real Men Cook Turkeys"…. But I doubted you would understand the significance of such a thing."

"I'm not sure I understand," Severus said, thinking that nothing Harry had just said to him made much sense.

"Open the book," Harry said.

Severus did as asked, flipping to a random page somewhere in the middle. What he saw there surprised him a bit. In the margins, next to the individually listed instructions on how to raise one's son, Harry had scribbled notes in the margin.

52. Make sure you set a curfew for your son, the book read in a tone that Severus imagined being quite pompous and presumptuous. Honestly, as if a muggle book could tell him anything useful about how to raise his son.It is important that your child knows his boundaries, and you should be the one to set them. Make sure you don't stray from this rule, as you don't want your teenager to think that 'bending' the rules is an appropriate thing to do.

In the margin, next to this particular piece of advice, Harry had scribbled in purple ink, Unless, of course, your son happens to be hunted by a maniacal madman. In the instance that your son needs an extension of curfew in order to save the world from certain destruction, some exceptions might be made.

Severus laughed and re-read Harry's input out loud. "A maniacal madman? Very nice word choice," he complimented Harry, flipping through the pages of the book.

"Well, here's what I figure. In case you ever start to miss my open defiance and the blatant arrogance I demonstrate by creating my own rules, you can open up this book, and it's all right there for you."

"How very considerate," Severus replied, smiling at the way Harry had managed to make a joke of this.

"I thought so," Harry agreed lightly, apparently pleased with himself. "Now, open the next one."

"Again with the commands," Severus grumbled. Still, he complied once more; this day was about Harry, at least to him, after all. He supposed it was not too much to ask for Harry to want to call the shots on this particular day.

"Be careful," Harry warned unnecessarily as Severus started on the next gift. "It's a bit fragile."

Severus' brow creased in interest as he continued to unwrap. This gift was rather large compared to the last, and he was honestly curious about what was inside. There were few things he wanted for, and so he imagined it must have been difficult for Harry to find something that he felt would suit him.

Harry watched Severus' face as he pulled out his gift, and could not help but feel satisfied when he saw the amount of amazement on his face when he realized what it was.

Severus picked up the crystal, already glowing red with Harry's magic, and looked at it in wonder. "Harry, this is-"

He didn't finish the sentence. This was an exceptionally wonderful gift, but he wondered if Harry understood the significance of this. He lifted the foggy white orb from the black velvet and inspected it, before looking down at the map. Truly, this was momentous- he was essentially being given the ultimate guide to Harry's life. "You realize… you have given me…"

"I know what it's for," Harry confirmed. "I know you'll be able to find out where I am at any given moment, yes… And I trust you. I wanted you to know that. It's practical, too… if anything were to happen, you would be the one I'd want to know first. You're the one I feel comfortable depending on… and… I don't always know how to say that. But it does mean a lot to me."

"This is… truly appreciated, Harry," Severus said softly, delicately running a thumb over the crystal. "Thank you."

Harry ducked his head, hiding a shy grin of satisfaction. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, his face heating moderately, and with quiet sincerity responded, "You're welcome."

Severus spent several more minutes contemplating the gift his son had given him, and Harry was perfectly content to sit and watch him absorb the significance of it in its entirety. He was rarely given an opportunity to truly please his father. He had always striven to please the adults around him, most likely out of an inherent desire to try and make his elders want him around, as the Dursleys never had. He aimed to please, and yet seldom felt he attained this goal.

Harry assumed that Severus felt it was time to move on when the man wordlessly rose from the couch, possibly with his mind still on the gift, and lifted a small, oddly shaped package from under the tree.

"For you," he said in mellow tones, almost benevolent compared to the harsh voice he usually used. He set his own gift to Harry in the boy's lap.

Harry lifted the present and flipped it over several times, inspecting it closely. "I wonder what this could be…" he hummed to himself, narrowing his eyes.

Severus snorted and shook his head, raising an eyebrow at his son's antics.

"I suppose I could just open it," Harry said after a moment, unwrapping the package. "Seems the more logical approa- oh!"

Severus' eyebrows lifted, almost in question, as Harry pulled out a pair of thick leather Quidditch gloves, equipped with a special grip pad on the palm and an inner lining of a warm fur which he could not identify.

"These are great," he said in awe, pulling them over his hands, even though he had no current need for them.

"I noticed you had none at the last Quidditch match," Severus said, nodding. "I thought they would be put to good use."

"They will be," Harry replied, wiggling his fingers around. "Thank you."

Severus nodded, and told him, "I do have something else for you, but you'll have to follow me to get it."

"Follow you?" Harry questioned. "Where are we going?"

"Upstairs," Severus stated, rising from the couch and waiting for Harry to do the same.

Harry frowned confusedly, but refrained from asking more questions. He silently followed Severus up to the second floor and down the hall to one of the rooms which he had never entered.

"You'll remember that I told you this room, created purely for the purpose of practicing very strong or very ancient white magic, could hardly be salvaged without several days of work?"

Harry nodded, unsure how this pertained to him.

"Well, it has taken me more than several days, and a fair number of nights… but I have restored it." Severus opened the door, revealing a room filled with a wide array of items which looked to be expensive, antiquated, and very fragile. "It is yours."

Harry was unsure whether anything had ever had such a profound impact on him- at least in such a positive sense. He stepped inside, and was shocked by the sheer power the room seemed to contain.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Severus commented quietly, though he remained on the outside. "You can obtain that power for yourself, you know."

Harry shook his head slowly in awe, viewing the room through eyes he now felt had seen few things as raw and beautiful as this.

"Will you be practicing with me in here?" Harry asked faintly, looking around.

"No," Severus answered him, leaning against the doorframe. When Harry looked at him probingly, he reluctantly expanded, saying, "Well, I will guide you in your first attempts, but I cannot practice. The form of power I possess is too dark- it does not interact well with the magic of this room. The properties of the artifacts contained in this room make it highly volatile- it may be some time before you may practice magic in here; there is still much work to be done. However, it should serve as a place for deep meditation, in which you may draw from all your inward power, until Dumbledore and I feel you are at a place where you may begin utilizing said power."

"And then…"

"This will undoubtedly be beneficial to your journey towards defeating Voldemort."

"You put a lot of thought into this."

"I did."

Harry smiled and turned around, realizing that Severus looked quite gratified with his reaction. "Thank you," he said, earning a nod from Severus in response.

"My only warning is that you do not perform magic in here," Severus advised. "Nor should you enter it when your temper is at a particularly high and heated peak."

Harry, feeling that these rules were simple enough to remember and put to use, nodded in agreement. He stepped out of the room, closing the door gently, and smiling to himself. "How much of that did you have to replace, if you couldn't repair it with magic?"

Severus raised an eyebrow as if to tell Harry that he shouldn't be asking this question, pushed off from the wall, strolling back down the hallway.

"Perhaps you should start on the remainder of that pile of gifts under the tree," Severus suggested, working to keep all traces of mordancy out of his tone. "It appears to be quite a time consuming task."

"Are you going to open yours?" Harry asked. He felt it would be rather uncomfortable to open presents alone, if all Severus was going to do was sit and watch.

Severus turned to look at Harry, raising his lip into a curl that had not yet graced his face today. "Not unless I must," he replied sardonically. He couldn't think of a more miserable experience, at the moment, and he was in a mood that he'd rather not have ruined by useless gifts from people he did not like.

Harry had expected such a response. "I can wait, then."

Severus frowned and continued walking. "Aren't you… eager… to learn what other gifts are in store for you?"

Ignoring Severus' borderline acerbic tones, Harry replied easily, "I'm waiting until tomorrow to give my gifts to my friends, so I'm going to open theirs then as well. I already know Mrs. Weasley gave me a Weasley sweater and most likely sweets… and there's nothing more that I need than what I already have. I'd rather spend the day with you than unwrapping gifts from people I barely know."

"Ah, your followers send you Christmas gifts, then?" Severus inquired in irritation, though it was not directed at his son.

Harry wrinkled his nose, and said, "If you want to call them that."

The two did not speak again until they reached the lower floor. Severus' mood was elevating to a level of irascibility as long as they stayed on the topic of how much attention Harry received, and so Harry felt it was best to wait until the man brought up another subject.

"What do you have in mind, then?" Severus finally asked as they headed back through the hallway and into the living room.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Severus gave a short laugh at this response. "I could personally stand a warm cup of tea and a game of Wizard's chess."

Harry smiled, and agreed, "That sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon, if you ask me."

Severus turned to Harry, assessing his sincerity. Realizing the boy was quite serious, he gestured as if to say, suit yourself, and said, "I keep the chess set in the study. Go and fetch it while I clear off the table in here, and we'll play."

"Alright," Harry complied, turning to leave the room. "And just so you know… I'm going to win."

Severus rolled his eyes rather than responding, and began to tidy the room. They would have to see about that.

xxx end chapter 38 xxx

To be continued...
End Notes:


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