Severus woke up bright and early on Boxing Day; he was expecting a full slate of students to be showing up in two hours at his classroom door. All of them would have cowered if they had seen the decidedly evil smirk that was on his face at that thought.

After making his steady and unhurried way through his morning ablutions, he donned a set of comfortable black robes and went across the hall to check on Harry and Draco.

Two tousled heads of hair met his sight, both with just their noses peeking out from the covers. Draco was sprawled under his covers, lightly snoring – although he would swear until he was blue in the face that he would never do so. Harry was curled up tightly into a small ball, only a very slight movement of a strand of hair near his nose betraying that he was still alive.

Severus sighed to himself as he gazed on his raven-haired son. Too many years cramped in that cupboard caused this guarded position at night – even to this day. He was fairly certain that no amount of time would heal something that deep in the boy’s psyche.

As he approached Harry’s bed, the boy opened his eyes and drew down the blanket just enough to look blearily up at his father.

“Wha’ time is it?” he yawned, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

“Seven. Go back to sleep; I’m heading upstairs to breakfast before I start detention.” He tucked Harry in as the boy unconsciously relaxed, stretching out his legs. Severus sat on the edge of the smoothed out covers, gently pushing the hair out of his son’s eyes. “What are your plans today?”

“We were going to get started on the homework, meeting up with the others in the library after lunch. How long are you going to be doing the detentions?” Harry whispered.

“Oh, all day.” Severus smirked and his son chuckled, cutting it off when he heard Draco snorting in his sleep. He stole a hasty glance toward the other side of the room and when he was sure his brother wasn’t waking, sighed in relief.

“Well, have fun then; I’m sure you have all sorts of disgusting things for them to do.”

“I do indeed. Don’t sleep in too late, and I will see you tonight at dinner. We will be Portkeying to the manor to have dinner with Narcissa. Please let Miss Granger know that she is invited as well and to wear a dinner frock.”

“Will do, Dad.” Harry sketched a military salute before turning over onto his side and drawing his knees up again – but not as tightly as when he was truly asleep. Severus smiled as he passed a loving hand over the messy locks of hair, then rose quietly to head upstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Walking through the wide open doors, Severus found the room back to its normal configuration, weak winter sunlight pouring through the tall cathedral windows, and flocks of owls winging in through the open slots above the enchanted ceiling, which showed clouds scudding through the sky.

The tables were sparsely populated with the students who had to be up early in order to attend the detentions they had earned the previous evening. All were dressed  appropriately, knowing what they would probably be doing: cleaning and dealing with messes.

Severus strode up to the head table, noting he was the only teacher in attendance this early in the morning. As he sat at his customary place, he garnered many indignant looks from the doomed students who had been forced to cut their festivities short the previous evening and he let them all slide off his back as he took the proffered copy of the Daily Prophet that the delivery owl presented him. They got themselves into this mess by misbehaving – they could bloody well just take the consequences.

Pouring himself a strong cup of tea, he then placed a hearty breakfast on his plate as he did not intend to eat lunch – preferring to save room for his House-elves cooking that evening.

Opening the paper, he was not surprised to see pictures of the opening of the ball, with the Champions dancing with their partners and a large photo of the Headmaster, arms open, starting the festivities. The accompanying article was full of fluff, although it did reveal Hagrid’s secret of being a half-giant. This would not be good. He resolved to go see Hagrid over lunch to make sure he was alright.

Now that he thought about it, he did not remember even seeing a reporter at the event last night, much less a photographer. Not even the Creevey brothers had been there with their ever present cameras. So, who had taken the pictures and how had Skeeter gained the information about Hagrid? Not that the teachers didn’t know about his parentage – it was quite obvious if you knew what to look for – but the general public and students tended to be ignorant, or pretended to be. That would not be the case now.

Losing his appetite, he finished off his tea and folded the paper up, tucking it under his arm as he left by the teacher’s entrance to the dais. The students in the hall panicked and rushed from the tables, hoping to beat their teacher to his classroom.

Viktor Krum was just entering the castle after eating down at his ship and his eyes grew wide as Theodore Nott grabbed his arm and dragged him with the horde of others clattering towards the dungeons entrance.

“Snape left breakfast early, we have to get down there now or we are toast!” the gruff Slytherin explained.

“’Ee doesn’t scare me!” Viktor declared, shaking off his companion’s grip.

“He should! Didn’t you figure that out the other day? He was not in a good mood when he left the table and we are all going to suffer for it. Now c’mon!” he urged, taking off at a run.

Thinking back to what the dour Potions master had made him do so far, Krum realised that the better part of valour might be to arrive before the man did and show himself ready for the days exertions so he began to jog to catch up.

The students were panting as they arrived, all thirty of them, in the cold dank corridor. An amplified voice told them to come in, already, and they opened the door to the classroom to find an unruffled professor sitting behind his desk; Argus Filch with a Mrs Norris wrapped around his shoulders giving the students a decidedly evil glare, standing next to him. Snape was writing on a short piece of parchment and as the students walked in to stand before the desk, he placed the quill in its stand, blotted the excess ink and handed the list to the caretaker.

He turned towards the waiting students. “Mr Filch has a list of those students who will be joining him today. Some of you earned detentions with both of us.” He sent a glare directly at Krum who stood his ground, staring straight ahead – his only show of guilt a quick bob of his Adams Apple. “When Mr Filch reads your name, please go join him. He will let you know how many days you will be with him. If you still have detentions after this week, you will be returning to my classroom each day next week after classes have resumed at seven p.m. sharp until your required detentions have been fulfilled. I expect you all to be quiet, courteous and non-complaining or I will add additional days and remove more points. Is that clear?”

A communal “Yes,Sir,” was heard and Filch began to read the names off his list. Krum resignedly joined the Squib’s group and marched out of the room with his head down.

“Now, the rest of you,” Severus intoned as he eyed the remaining students, glad he didn’t have to put up with Krum until the following week. “Third and Fourth years, start scrubbing the desks, floors and walls – your compatriots have been quite messy this term. I want the place shining for the start of term. No magic is to be used; only elbow grease – buckets, scrub brushes and sponges are down the hall to your left in the maintenance cupboard. Fifth years, you will be cleaning and writing up new labels for the potions storage cabinet. I want those vials sparkling and every last speck of dust removed. Again, no magic. Miss Jurgenson, I believe your hand is the neatest – you will be making out the new labels for those that are torn or faded. Supplies are in that drawer over there. Sixth years, you will be spending the week preparing specimens for the term and Seventh, you will be brewing base potions: supplies and instructions are at that station over there. Now get to work!” he barked.

The students scattered to their assignments and Severus sat back at his desk to oversee the busy little bees. He picked up his book he had started the other evening and began to read.

****

Harry and Draco slowly wound their way up from the dungeons to a late breakfast, book bags slung over their shoulders. They had awoken to Salazar practically giggling in his portrait as he relayed Severus’ detention plans to the younger Snapes. Grinning themselves, they prepared for the day and had headed upstairs to join their friends for a late brunch.

Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, tears welling in her eyes as she gripped the morning paper with white knuckles. Pansy, of all people, was sitting next to her trying to calm the lioness down. She looked up as the brothers sat down, noting the rest of their group from the previous evening were all eating at the same table regardless of House affiliation.

“Hermione?” Harry asked quietly. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s that foul woman!” she hissed, slamming the paper down. “I didn’t even see her last night! How did she get in? Where was she? Maybe polyjuiced to look like a student?” She shook her head violently, scattering teardrops down her face, which she quickly scrubbed away before shoving the paper across the table towards her friends.

“Bottom of the page, eighth paragraph of the article on the ball. I swear...” she mumbled to herself as Pansy patted the girl’s back in a vain attempt to calm her down. Harry and Draco flipped the paper over, perusing the article until they hit upon the paragraph in question.

“A half-giant? I didn’t know giants still existed,” Harry said wonderingly.

“I just thought he had overdosed on an engorgement potion...” Ron mumbled through a mouthful of egg. Daphne glared at him from her place on the other side of Pansy. She still hadn’t forgiven him for trouncing all over her feet and ruining her robes the night before.

“They don’t!” Hermione exclaimed. “At least not in Britain. Hagrid’s mum was the last one to leave. They are all somewhere in the Ural mountains now, I think,” she explained pedantically. “But that’s beside the point. She’s painting him as some evil, dangerous, half-breed who is out to hurt us! He wouldn’t hurt a fly! And then she quotes Nott and that ridiculous story from last year with Buckbeak. Urgh! She’s just evil!” She pulled at her hair, making it stand out more than it usually did.

“But I don’t get it,” Draco wondered aloud. “I never saw Skeeter last night nor a photographer. And Nott wasn’t allowed at the dance, so how did she talk to him? Something is fishy here.” He gazed up at the head table where Dumbledore was serenely eating his breakfast while McGonagall was railing at him, albeit quietly – or under a muffling spell – so that the students couldn’t hear, while flourishing the offending piece of journalism under his nose.

“We need to go see Hagrid,” Harry declared. “We’ll have to do it at lunch – I doubt if he would want to see us just yet, but maybe in a few hours...” Draco reluctantly agreed, and the rest voiced their assent as well.

“We shouldn’t all go, though,” the blond stated. “It would be a bit overwhelming if we all showed up. Just let Harry and I go – we know him best of all of us.”

Hermione sniffed back some more tears, but agreed and they all left to head up to the library to begin their back-to-term essays that were all due the following Monday. She leaned gratefully into Draco’s one armed hug as he led her to the second floor, taking his handkerchief gratefully, and Harry followed talking quietly with Pansy. That left Ron to walk with Daphne who was reluctantly following the group, not really having anywhere else to go. Hannah was walking with Neville and Ginny who had attended the ball together. Ron had stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets while stealing red-faced glances to the right to see if he could gauge her reactions.

“Umm, I – uh – wanted to apologise for last night,” he finally blurted out.

“About time,” she mumbled. “Those robes cost me a shiny sickle, Ron Weasley! And now they are ruined! I can’t even hope to get that stain out... and my feet are still sore!” she complained.

“I said I was sorry! I even said it last night! I’m pants at dancing,” he muttered.

“Noooo, really?” she said sarcastically. He looked over at her from under his messy, red fringe and caught her smirking at him. He smiled back shyly in response.

“I really tried,” he insisted. “But McGonagall only taught us the waltz.”

“I have to admit you did passably well at that one.” She fingered the snowflake necklace she was still wearing. “And, I can even admit that you know how to pick out good gifts, so – I guess I’ll forgive you this time.”

He smiled broadly at this, relief evident in his face and they hurried to catch up with the rest. “I bet my mum will know how to get the stain out – want me to owl her this afternoon and see?”

****

“Hagrid,” Harry called out, knocking hard on the wooden plank door. “C’mon, I know you’re in there!”

“G’ ‘way!” came the husky pleading voice of the clearly inebriated half-giant.

“Hagrid, let us in – we don’t care what that Harpy wrote about you!” Draco yelled through the door cracks.

“’M a danger!” Hagrid cried out, a loud honking indicating he was blowing his nose. “She said so!”

“Bullocks!” Harry exclaimed. “Now let us in!” He pounded harder on the door. But there was no answering response.

“Harry, Draco, what’s the matter?” Severus said as he tromped through the snow up to the door of hut.

“Hagrid won’t let us in and he sounds drunk and weepy. He believes what she said in that nasty article,” Draco explained, Harry bobbing his head in agreement.

“Hmm, let me try.” He walked up the short flight of steps, the boys retreating down them to make way. Knocking loudly, he called out to his friend. “Hagrid, It’s Professor Snape – let us in, please.”

“Per’fes’r? Yeh should go ‘way. I’m a danger! Not fit to teach...”

Harry was about to cry out when Severus waved him to stay quiet. “That’s absolute nonsense and you know it, Hagrid. I wouldn’t let you watch the boys for me if I though that way. Now open up the door and let’s discuss this rationally!”

They waited a moment as they heard heavy furniture being moved – apparently away from the door, causing all three Snapes to raise their eyebrows in astonishment – and then a red-eyed Hagrid cracked the door open and reluctantly waved the family in.

“Did yeh really mean that, sair?” he asked, tears still evident in his voice as he went over to his chair and plopped down in it.

“Of course, Hagrid; I trust you with their lives – and there are very few people who have that privilege,” Severus assured him. “And the headmaster isn’t going to let you go over one inflammatory article, especially when he has known your parentage all along.”

“But the parents...”

“Bugger the parents,” Snape exclaimed, causing his boys to share astonished glances. Their father almost never swore! “They don’t make policy. Ignore it, Hagrid. We all know you are the gentlest of all people – anyone watching you with a newborn animal knows that straight off. Nott was just mouthing off to the press and I’m still investigating to find out how she got in without me being aware of it! And when I do, I’ll make her print a retraction!”

“But it’s true, Perfess’r. I am a half-giant, my mum was Fridwulfa. Her kin did help You-Know-Who...” He began crying great huge tears again and pulled a very large handkerchief from his pocket and buried his face in it, wailing loudly.

Severus walked over and stood next to the man, calmly patting his shoulders in sympathy until he calmed down again, casting a sobriety spell discretely. “That may all be true, but her accusations about your own nature are not. We are not our parents, Hagrid – you know that!”

The shaggy head nodded reluctantly. Harry and Draco walked closer then, as one, attacked the half-giant with huge hugs, climbing onto his lap like children half their age to get a better grip around his neck. He laughed in shock then his own ham like arms came up to embrace them as well.

Mopping his face again with his kerchief, he let the boys sit on his knees like a mountain man version of St Nick and Severus pulled up a wooden stool after procuring tea for everyone. They talked out the rest of the hour and the three Snapes left behind a more content grounds-keeper who promised not to let the journalist get to him and with promises from the boys that they would be down every afternoon to help him tend to his ‘pets’.

With the bright sun out, the snow sculptures were beginning to melt and turn into slushy messes on the ground, and the threesome had to cast warming and drying charms on their bottom halves when they entered the entry hall of the castle. Harry and Draco headed into the Great Hall to snatch a sandwich to tide them over until dinner, enjoying the sight of a scowling Krum washing the windows that faced out into the entry way, while Severus returned to the Dungeons to oversee the remainder of today’s detention duty.

Harry piled sandwich halves and crisps onto his plate before reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice. “So what are you getting Calista for her Birthday?” he asked his brother.

“I made her something – just a toy – but I designed it and dad helped me make it. What about you?”

“I ordered a fairy tale book. Hermione recommended it; it is a mixture of Wizard and Muggle fairy tales – and a stuffed unicorn I saw in a catalogue. I couldn’t resist it, it was so cute.” He smiled in remembrance. “I have no idea what Hermione got her, but I’m sure it’s fine, she has a knack for picking out gifts,” he remarked. He caught Draco’s blush out of the side of his eye and whipped around to confront him.

“You like her, don’t you!” he practically crowed in delight.

“I... uh...” Uncharacteristically, Draco sputtered then stopped, realising he sounded like a fool, and just nodded his head.

“I knew it!” Harry’s grin nearly split his face.

“Shush! Weasley is going to kill me... you mean you don’t mind?” Draco asked wonderingly.

“I think it’s brilliant! You two are the perfect match! Much better than Pansy – she was just never your type. I think she’s over you, by the way,” he said conspiratorially.

“Yeah, now she is all over you – the Tri-wizard tied for first place wunderkind.” Draco snorted his opinion.

“I don’t mind, really, I kind of like her. Not romantically, but just as a friend. I like hanging out with her.”

“She’s alright when she’s not after you for your last name,” his brother said darkly. “She is one of the few I miss from there – but as a friend, not as a promised wife. I don’t know what Lucius was thinking when he set that up. Glad I don’t have that around my neck anymore!” he said with a contented sigh.

“Hmm, I wonder if my parents would’ve done that...” Harry pondered.

“Doubt it; the Princes were notorious for going against arranged marriages. They were always proponents for love matches – said they lasted longer and were healthier. Probably were right when you think about it. Purebloods are a messed up bunch of people – and I can say that, I am one!” He threw a crisp in his mouth and crunched it to emphasise his point. “And Dad doesn’t believe in them either, I can tell you that. So, we don’t have to worry about dynastic leanings from him. Doesn’t mean to say there won’t be people who wouldn’t approach him about contracts between their daughters and us, I’m sure there has been and will be more as we approach legal age. But he will never enter us into one of those.”

“You think he’s already been approached?” Harry asked astounded.

“I would not be surprised. Ask him, if you are curious,” Draco suggested.

“I might do that.” He snorted in amusement. “Wonder what the going price is for one Boy-Who-Lived?”

“At least a few manor houses and several vaults at Gringotts,” Draco teased.

“Don’t forget the camels and sheep – all good marriage transactions must include those!” Harry laughed.

“But of course!” They continued laughing through lunch adding even more ridiculous requirements onto Harry’s brideprice. By the time they had headed back up to the Library to finish their essay draft, they were both in pretty good moods. Of course passing Filch supervising the clean-up crew just added to the hilarity.

They were sobered down immediately when Hermione looked him straight in the eye and asked whether he had solved the egg clue yet. Harry had to admit he hadn’t even thought about it since the weekend he’d rescued it.

“Well you better start figuring it out, Harry; you only have six weeks left!”

“More than enough time, Hermione – leave off,” he said irritably.

Hermione looked hurt at that, but he wasn’t in that forgiving of a mood. His friend had a tendency to nag about things and he just wouldn’t put up with it – no matter how right she was.

“I’m only trying to help!” she said. Draco laid a comforting hand on her arm, shooting a glare at his brother-with-a-big-mouth.

Harry gulped. “I know you are, ‘Mione. Six weeks is a long time – and we need to get this homework done before Monday morning; a much closer deadline, don’t you agree?” he pleaded, using his puppy-dog look that always worked on his dad.

“Well, yes, but...” she tottered.

“No ‘buts’, Hermione. This has to be done first – if we have time at the end of the week, I promise you can take a listen to the egg. You’re not going to like it – but I’ll let you listen.” Hermione chewed on her lower lip as she pondered the proposal until she sighed in resignation.

Harry smiled at her in understanding and thanks then cracked open his History text to begin taking notes.