Severus was never so relieved to be back in his chambers. The ministry had been a fiasco, thanks to the reporters. He had expected questions about his relationship with Potter. He’d even expected questions about his status as a now former-Death Eater. But he hadn’t been prepared for questions about his family. It had been such a long time since he had to publicly face the issue, and having it thrust upon him when he wasn’t ready was decidedly unwelcome.

Severus watched Potter stumble out of the floo behind him, followed closely by the Headmaster. He really didn’t want to deal with either at that moment, but clearly, he needed to speak with Dumbledore about the reporters. The boy, however, was a different story.

"Potter," Severus ordered unceremoniously. "Go to your room. The Headmaster and I need to speak."

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Dumbledore give Harry a small nod, silently asking the child to concede to the request. Potter looked like he was deciding what to do. In an effort to put the threat of conversation to rest, Severus pointedly turned his back on the younger wizard, making his way resolutely across the room and towards the sanctity of the liquor cabinet. He didn’t like what he was feeling right now - agitated, for lack of a better word. And it wasn’t like he normally indulged his emotions with drink. No... it was rare for Severus to feel out of control, and even rarer for him to imbibe alcohol when he was. However, he was, at heart, a man who believed that extreme situations deserved extreme responses. And, for whatever reason, drowning out the days events in a bottle of Madame Rosmerta’s finest felt, to Severus, like the appropriate response to the circumstances.

Squatting down, Severus began foraging through the jumble of tumblers, wine glasses, and assorted spirits. The cabinet was deeper than he recalled - he must have magically enlarged it at one point... But still, it was a good escape from the very heavy silence behind him. No doubt, Potter had questions, and Severus would have crawled all the way into the cupboard and locked the door behind him if it meant he could escape the conversation he knew would have to come sooner or later.

"Go away, Potter." Severus silently prayed as he dug deeper and deeper into the dusty collection of bottles at the back of the cabinet. "I don’t need talk right now, I need a drink." Now... where was the damned fire-whiskey? He knew it was there somewhere... past the champagne glasses, past that very old, rare bottle of elf-made wine... Just a little deeper, maybe...

"Sir...?"

Severus wasn’t surprised to hear Potter’s query. Indeed, he couldn’t help but feel that Potter’s statement, simple as it was, validated his belief that the child was incapable of thinking beyond his own, immediate needs.

"I knew it!" Severus bellowed, and then wished he hadn’t as the sound of his own anger reverberated off of the cabinet walls around him. "I knew you would not be able to do it...! No... not St. Potter! You are simply incapable of placing anyone else’s thoughts ahead of your own, aren’t you?!..."

Having finally located the dusty brown bottle that was the object of his search, Severus proceeded to back out of the cabinet, berating the child the whole way. He felt a bit stupid as he did so, given that Potter and the Headmaster were getting an earful while staring at his arse. But still, Severus was bound and determined to get out of the cupboard and castigate the child properly. In his haste, however, he inadvertently knocked the elf-wine against the side of the wall, sending chilly wetness down the front of his cloak and trousers. The shock of the cold liquid caused him to jerk backwards, hitting the back of his head off of the frame of the cupboard.

"Argh!... Damn... Son of Merlin..." The epithets spewed forth untamed and without concern for the other occupants of the room.

"Severus! Are you all right?" The Headmaster sounded concerned, but Severus could also hear the chuckle in the old man’s voice. What a sight he must be from the other end, Severus thought angrily...

"I’m fine, Headmaster." Severus hissed. "And I’ve either just wet my pants or I’ve broken a two-hundred year old bottle of elf-wine." Reaching down, he could feel the tell-tale shards of smooth glass underneath his fingertips.

"Ah, bugger... I broke the wine..."

He could hear the snickers behind him. Potter was laughing at him... oh, that boy was going to get it when he got out of the cabinet... With one last backwards heave, Severus finally extricated himself from what was, he supposed, one of the more undignified positions he had ever been in. Severus drew his wand, gave a passing thought to hexing Potter for laughing, and then performed a quick drying spell on himself. Standing up, Severus glanced at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was grinning wildly, his eyes alight with laughter. So, it was the Headmaster who was laughing... Severus reflected for a moment, and then decided it must have been quite a sight. Indeed, under other circumstances, Severus might have been embarrassed by his lack of composure, but he didn’t have room for the emotion at the present time. He was too set on putting Potter in his place. Severus could tolerate a little humor at his own expense for the Headmaster’s benefit, but Potter was a different story. No, the boy needed to learn respect. Rounding on the child, Severus was determined to dispel the smug look that he was sure was plastered on the child’s face. But Severus’ anger faded the moment he glanced at Potter..

"Sir..." Potter mumbled. Severus couldn’t place the emotion he saw on the boy’s face, but it wasn’t smugness. Or anything like it. Rather, there was a mix of confusion and something that looked strangely like guilt, maybe... Severus continued to watch while Potter struggled to find the words he was looking for... he looked a bit like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing in a desperate rhythm... Severus stood, bemused, waiting for the child to grasp hold of whatever thoughts, if any, were floating around in his brain. Finally, Potter managed a strangled reply.

"I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know."

Severus, having been a spy for so long, was not a person easily surprised. But he suddenly found himself in unfamiliar territory. Potter. Was apologizing. To him. To him...

"Merlin," Severus thought. "Now what?" Should he acknowledge Potter’s statement? Say something expected, albeit superficial in response? Or should he just ignore the child? Severus pondered the matter briefly... Ignoring seemed right. It seemed like the best way out of the thicket... Yes, ignoring the situation would work just fine for now... But before he could do anything - or not do anything - Potter was moving... across the carpet, head down, eyes lowered, and into his room. Severus didn’t say a word, and neither did the Headmaster - both just quietly let the child go. When the door was finally shut behind Harry, Severus breathed a sigh of relief, cast a quick silencing spell, and then made his way towards his favorite chair by the fire.

Reaching his destination, he plopped down heavily, glass in hand, and uncorked the bottle. Without even acknowledging the Dumbledore, Severus filled the tumbler and downed the contents in one seamless motion. Having done so, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and waited for the warm, sultry feeling of the alcohol wash over him. It didn’t take long.

"Severus," Dumbledore said gently.

The Potions Master didn’t respond, choosing instead to sink deeper into the delicious warmth that was invading his being. After a moment, though, he sensed the Headmaster beside him, followed by the gentle pressure of the man’s hand on the back of his head. There were few people Severus ever allowed to get close to him - either physically or emotionally - and Dumbledore was one of those few. Indeed, it was fair to say that Severus, having had a less than satisfying relationship with his father, had reached the point where he looked upon Dumbledore as a mentor and, in some respects, a father-figure. Severus breathed deeply, allowing the old man’s presence to calm his senses.

"It was bound to come to this. Once your relationship with Harry was acknowledged, the reporters were sure to start looking into your history." Dumbledore’s quiet voice found its way into Severus’ thoughts.

"But so fast?" the Potion’s Master hissed, looking up at the elder wizard. "There’s no time. I had hoped to make it through the term, at least, so as not to disrupt his schooling. Now the reporters will be all over us. And the Dark Lord will be all over us."

It was this last thought that scared him more than anything. He had lived a clandestine life for so long, he had become accustomed to the additional blanket of safety that the web of lies provided. And now, slowly and painfully, those layers were being peeled away. First acknowledging Potter, followed by the corresponding loss of his status as a spy. And now the damned reporters were digging up graves and unearthing ghosts that were best left buried.

"We can, perhaps, send her on a... what is the muggle phrase? ... a ‘wild goose chase’ to buy more time," Dumbledore suggested. "But you should consider that this is only a temporary measure. You will need to face this situation soon. The sooner the better, for safety’s sake." The Headmaster’s voice was firm, but kind. Severus closed his eyes as if to blot out the effect of the words, but ultimately, he knew the elderly wizard was right.

"Severus," the Headmaster sighed. "The situation is bound to create fear and hurt, but a relationship is only defined by these qualities if one allows it to be. We should seek opportunities to move beyond these feelings, my dear friend." Severus felt the Headmaster give his shoulder a squeeze before the old man moved away.

Severus stared into the smoldering embers in the grate. Somehow, this entire situation was spinning out of control, and he didn’t know what to do to regain his footing. It had been less than a week since he had told Potter of his heritage, but it felt like months. Years. Eons, even. Idly, Severus wondered whether this was what it would feel like to be trapped in a black hole. Weighted down with the weight of the world, yet powerless and adrift in a foreign universe where time was stretched and skewed beyond recognition...

"Enough wallowing in self- pity," Severus reprimanded himself silently. "There’s too much to do." And indeed, Severus knew what needed done. It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it was necessary. Standing abruptly, Severus purposefully placed his drink down, squared his shoulders, and addressed the Headmaster.

"Headmaster," he stated. "I will need to be away at Christmas in order to address personal issues." Dumbledore didn’t respond, but gave Severus an brief nod of the head. Severus took this as his cue to continue.

"I know that I am responsible for Potter, but given the circumstances, I cannot take him with me. It will only create more resentment."

"What are you proposing, Severus?"

"I would like him to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday," Severus answered cautiously. He wasn’t sure how the Headmaster would respond to the request. But, it wouldn’t be a long time, so maybe...

"I will only be gone two nights, and he will be safe here without me for this short time." To Severus’ surprise, Dumbledore nodded.

"I think that is wise," the elder wizard agreed. "But he will need something to keep him busy. Perhaps you can set him a potion to brew? Something to keep him occupied...?"

"I can," Severus said. "But I was also considering fire-calling Molly to see if she would allow young Mr. Weasley to come for a visit. There are no other students staying for Christmas this year, and I do not think it would be healthy for Potter to spend it alone."

And he didn’t. Severus really didn’t like Potter, he told himself, but nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel that the child had been asked to deal with a lot in a very short amount of time. It seemed likely that, if left alone, Potter would dwell unnecessarily on the matters, and Severus had no intention of allowing any son of his to indulge in self-pity any more than he, himself did. No, it would be better for the child to have a friend around - even a Weasley - to take his mind off of the issues, if only for a few hours.

"An excellent idea, Severus," Dumbledore agreed jovially. "Assuming they consent, the Weasleys are welcome to use the floo in my office." Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling merrily, and he smiled broadly at the Potion’s Master.

"I’ll be on my way, then. Please advise me before you leave," he said, stepping into the floo. "Oh, and Severus," he added lightly, "it was very thoughtful of you to suggest a visit for Harry. A very fatherly thing to do, indeed." With a parting grin, the Headmaster was gone in a blaze of fire.

Severus rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his near empty glass of whiskey. It wasn’t as if he cared about Potter’s feelings, Severus told himself again. It’s just that it was Christmas. And nobody should be alone on Christmas. Not even Potter, Severus mused.

Draining the last of his fire-whiskey, Severus hiccuped once, vanished his glass, and determinedly set about finding something for Potter to do while he was away.