Harry couldn't help but get swept up in the excited buzz of the students just before Christmas holidays. Classes were lighter (except for Snape's), there were sounds of badly sung Christmas carols in the halls (except around Snape), and the great hall was decked out in massive Christmas tress once again. On the very last evening, when trunks were packed, students wrapped up and whisked off to the carriages for the train, Harry covered his trunk in his invisibility cloak and went for a walk, levitating it in front of him. He made his way to Professor McGonagall's office and wished her a happy holidays as he flooed away home to Stockport.
Harry didn't know if a house elf had come to clean Spinner's End while they were at Hogwarts, but as he stepped though the iron fire grate he took a deep breath and for once felt like he'd come home. Snape was in the kitchen, taking dinner out of the oven, and told Harry to take his stuff upstairs before coming for dinner. The sheer difference between being welcomed home with acceptance versus hatred made Harry nearly trip up the stairs with energy.
When he came bounding back into the kitchen, Snape was giving him an odd look and starting on his own dinner. Typical English chicken potpie, with chunks of vegetables in it that the steam just poured out of when Harry cut into his.
"Dad?" Harry asked, taking a gulp of milk to sooth his burning tongue. He knew the food was hot but couldn't resist a mouthful anyway. "How much of that potion do you have?"
"What potion?"
"The one that, you know. Shrinks me." Harry divided up another chunk and blew on it to cool it.
"Enough. Why, are you planning on de-evolving over the holiday?"
Harry coughed at the question and refused to look up, instead becoming very interested in the peas that were in the dinner.
"I don't know. I mean, it's more a kid's holiday, isn't it?" Harry stabbed at one of the peas and accidentally sent it careening against his glass of milk.
"It's also your first real Christmas since you were a baby, correct?" Snape asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Yeah." Harry answered, looking up and cursing the slight blush he could feel on his cheeks. Snape studied him for a moment before putting out his hand and wordlessly summoning a vial from the fridge. He placed it on the table next to Harry's plate.
"You may decide then if you want to spend Christmas as a six year old." Snape finally said, returning to his dinner.
Harry wasn't sure what Snape saw in his expression that made him decide that, which was actually better. Harry was very much looking forward to a real family Christmas, and figured in the body of a six year old and under the guise of that set of emotions, he'd be able to get away with more childish forms of comfort and entertainment over the holidays.
"However, you are not to take that until after we get the tree," Snape shook his finger at Harry's fake groan, "as I will not be dragging that home myself, you lazy sod. And you will return to your sixteen year old body on the 27th for the Weasley visit. If you think Molly Weasley harps on you now to eat, just wait until she sees what a scrawny runt you were at six."
"What? You don't bother me about it." Harry pointed out, taking another mouthful.
"Of course I don't. Half the antidote is a nutrient potion, can't you taste it?"
"No. To be honest, they all taste rather like ars..."
"Thin ice, boy." Snape threatened with his knife pointing at Harry. "Thin ice."
Harry grinned and shoved more potpie in his mouth, to avoid saying anything else.
.......
Christmas eve was spent in the living room, watching borrowed television from the neighbours again while the miserable weather outside rained. Snape sat in his chair by the fireplace, pretending to read his muggle health sciences journal and scowling at the childish cartoons on tv. Six-year-old Harry slouched spread out on the settee, hot apple cider on the floor beside him. He had the knit blanket from his bedroom draped over his lower body, one sock clad foot hanging over the edge of the couch as he watched Rudolph the red nosed reindeer prance around on screen.
Harry grinned with perverse satisfaction, wondering what his cousin was doing now. Normally, Dudley would be playing a computer game or watching tv, pigging out on the cheap Christmas biscuits and candies that Aunt Petunia always put out. He'd make sure his stocking was hung in the dead centre of the fireplace, and the biggest one out of the three. He'd make fun of Harry, mock him for never getting any gifts, and thunder up the stairs to bed to await the goldmine of presents in the morning, and Harry making breakfast for everyone.
Not this year. Harry stretched and yawned as the commercial started, scratching idly against his forehead. It was not yet nine pm, and he was very warm in the room with the fire and cider. He smiled, feeling completely content for once.
"That is a stupid looking grin on your face." Snape suddenly said, not looking up from his journal. "I cannot believe you find this children's tripe amusing."
"Happy Christmas to you too." Harry replied, grinning wider as he stood up and clutched his blanket.
An hour later found Snape still sitting in his chair, the local news turned on and periodic updates of Santa's progress through the world broadcast, a little boy curled up in his lap with a mop of messy black hair tucked neatly in the crook of his neck. A small hand clutched at his housecoat, and the boy's breathing moved evenly in time with Snape's. A cup of spiced eggnog sat on the little table beside him, and after checking to make sure Harry was completely asleep, Snape flicked his wand at the tv to switch back to the cartoon channel, in time to catch the beginning of the only Christmas movie he'd ever liked as a small child. The sounds of Charlie Brown filled the room and Snape wrapped the blanket around Harry's thin body as he sat back and enjoyed the first Christmas eve he'd celebrated at Spinner's End since he was seventeen.
.......
Harry woke up at six thirty in the morning on Christmas. The air in his room was rather chilly, just the way he liked it, and the blankets very warm. Harry stared at the ceiling and imagined what he would find downstairs, if he'd find anything under the tree from Snape. If he deserved anything. It was a foolish fear, as Snape so far had proven to be a very providing guardian, as often as he tried to hide it.
Harry rolled over and stared around his room, his eyes following the curve of the east coast of Africa on the world map wallpaper opposite his bed. If he couldn't get back to sleep there were always a few books on his bookcase he could flip through, as he didn't think Snape wanted to be woken before 8 am, no matter what day it was.
First though, he'd make a pit stop at the washroom. Three mugs of cider the night before really had been pushing the limit, Harry thought as he shuffled his feet on the cold wooden floor and slipped out into the dark hallway. Snape's bedroom door was closed, as Harry expected it would be, and the bathroom subway tile floor was freezing cold as he made quick work of his pit stop. Returning back to his room, Harry paused when he took notice of his bedroom door.
A thin navy blue knit stocking hung from the door handle, with Harry's name stitched in white at the top, and a green patch over the heel of the stocking. It was stuffed full of things, lumpy in the centre, and just waiting for Harry to find it. Another glance to Snape's door confirmed that he was the only one with a stocking, and curiosity won out over patience. Grabbing the goody bag, Harry slipped back into his bedroom and climbed under the covers, dumping out his prize.
Three little mandarins popped immediately out, followed by some small Christmas chocolates, a chocolate frog, a new toothbrush, a book of crossword puzzles, a deck of playing cards with Russian landmarks on them, a toy golden snitch, three post cards of Amsterdam, some tooth flossing string mints, and a pair of Ballycastle Bats mittens.
They were small little things, trinkets really except for the toothbrush, but all things that Harry liked and would be useful for him to have. Not caring about the time, Harry opened one of the chocolates and started flipping through the crossword puzzle book.
Snape knocked on the door an hour later, finding Harry munching on one of the mandarins, and playing solitaire with the Russian cards. He offered a gruff good morning, before telling Harry to put warm clothes on and wait until Snape told him he could come downstairs. Harry felt ridiculous for a moment as he debated with himself what to wear, before deciding to just put on a long-sleeved Gryffindor Quidditch shirt that he had gotten in first year and grown out of quickly. He had to shrink it a little to fit now, but it was much better than his other shirts. He was still in his grey flannel pajama pants, and decided in the spirit of Christmas to put on matching green woolen socks.
The smell of percolating coffee wafted up the stairs before long and Harry also caught a whiff of baking pastry. Finally Snape's call came and Harry left his room, deciding to leave the stocking up there. He walked down the dark stairs, shivering a bit with the cold air, and stepping on all the spots that creaked. He could hear a fire crackling in the library and pushed open the door with a smile on his face. He felt like an over excited six year old, and it was the first time he could ever remember feeling that way about Christmas.
The room was lit up by the hot fire in the fireplace and the candles that were lit in the tree. Blue, silver, and green baubles twinkled in the flickering flames and tinsel hung down between the old tin and pressed metal ornaments that Snape had dug out from a box in the cellar. Under the tree was a smile pile of gaily wrapped gifts of odd shapes and sizes, and on top of the tree stood a small silver winged fairy that had an impish smile and winked at Harry as he took in the sight. Two steaming mugs of coffee sat on the coffee table next to a plate of fresh sticky buns and Snape was sitting in his housecoat and slippers, one leg crossed over his knee, not quite succeeding at keeping the pleased smile off his face.
"Happy Christmas, Elliot." Snape said, waving his hand at the gifts. Harry dove at the tree with a grin on his face, dividing the presents into piles and stacking them by Snape's chair and his spot on the couch. Harry finally settled into the settee, a small box in his hand and his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, before he looked up to ask permission to start opening gifts. Snape gave him a curt little nod, and in the corner of the room the wireless radio turned on and Christmas music started playing.
The first box, which had been tagged from Dad, turned out to be his own babelfish translator. Harry's jaw dropped as he looked up towards Snape, amazed that he'd actually gotten one. Modifications had been made to this babelfish as well, Snape told him, that allowed him to hear both languages at different volumes as they were being spoken. Harry could turn that feature off if he wanted, but Snape theorized that it would make learning the language easier.
A gift to Snape from Mrs. Weasley brought a laugh from Harry, as it was a family recipe book. Professor Dumbledore sent Snape expensive chocolates and a box of lemon sherberts for Harry, and a large gift bag that read From Santa in writing that looked suspiciously like Snape's brought Harry five different packages of athletic socks in four different colours. Hermione sent Harry a thick book full of family crests and different icons and symbols of the wizarding world, which he could use for carving, and Ron sent some joke books from his brothers' shop. Professor McGonagall gifted Snape with a camera, and Harry was amazed to see that there was even a gift for Snape from Ron and Hermione. It was only a small gift certificate to an apothecary, but to Harry it was the perfect offering of an olive branch. Snape seemed satisfied with it as well, as he placed the certificate in his wallet and put the card on the fireplace mantel with their others.
After donning his customary Weasley sweater (this year a steel blue-grey), Harry snacked on a sticky bun and inspected his next gift from Snape. The mirth in Snape's eyes as Harry gently shook the rectangular box did nothing to allay his concern that it would be something embarrassing, and he thought the thunk noise the box made sounded rather familiar, like a video tape almost. Putting the plate down, Harry went to open the paper and shook his fingers as Snape sent a scourgify spell to get the sticky icing off his hand. There was eye rolling as well but Harry ignored it completely and ripped open the paper to find a VHS tape of A Muppet Family Christmas.
"I have been informed that your Fraggles make a most riveting appearance in this film." Snape commented, his eyes laughing at Harry from behind his coffee mug.
"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Harry scrunched his face playfully, flipping the tape over to read the movie synopsis. He was embarrassed and amused, but also touched that Snape's gifts seemed to be something he'd put thought into for Harry.
"Not on your life." Snape confirmed, picking up his next present. It was a long rectangular box, a bit wider than an Ollivander wand box and just as thick. Harry watched with intense nervousness, as this was the gift he'd worked hardest on. Snape unwrapped the paper carefully, unlike Harry, and his eyes widened at what the tissue paper inside the box revealed. He held it up for inspection, and Harry was ridiculously pleased by the look of surprise on his face.
It was just a piece of wood, a chunk of maple that had started out in Hagrid's hut and had been found by Harry one afternoon when he'd gone over for tea. After several hours of work on it, the wood now had a delicately carved cauldron outline at the bottom, and a wisp of shimmering steam rising from the cauldron and waving up the board, into which a path of drilled holes were made. It was a cribbage board; Harry had gotten the idea for the design after staring the Advanced Potion Making textbook that Snape had given to Harry. The little peg markers, which Snape was now sliding out of their hiding spot in the base of the board, were actually tiny ladle replicas of the ones that they normally used in class, a bronze set and a pewter set for the different players.
"This is exquisite." Snape commented in a soft breath, inspecting the markers. "You made this?"
Harry figured he wouldn't be able to stop grinning for a week. He'd impressed Snape. Snape was actually impressed by something he'd done.
"Yeah. You banned me from Hogsmeade, so Hagrid had to get me the metal. But I made it all myself."
"You deserved to be punished for your idiocy." Snape answered distractedly as he ran his fingers along the path of holes that lead to 121. "Thank you. This is a very nice gift."
"Welcome." Harry answered back, suddenly wanting to not make a big deal of things. "Thanks for the babelfish, and the video and the socks." Harry stood and stretched, cracking his toes as he did so.
"The socks were from Santa, as the tag read. Do I appear as a jovial overweight man in a red suit to you?" Snape answered with a pointed look, causing Harry to nearly double over laughing at the mental image that had immediately popped into his head.
"Now, help me get rid of the paper, we'll put your insufferable movie on the television and I shall break in the board by thoroughly skunking you in a game or three." Snape continued, putting the board on the table and sending the dishes into the kitchen.
Harry figured that this was his best non-Hogwarts Christmas ever, and didn't even mind when Snape won all three cribbage games in a row, nor when he teased Harry for singing along with the movie.
......
New years eve was a very cold day by Amsterdam standards, winds whipping through some of the streets, making Harry feel every degree of that minus ten Celsius temperature. He didn't care one ounce, however, instead just choosing to wrap himself up further under his scarf as he and Snape made their way out of Amsterdam Centraal Station. Harry looked around with a satisfied smile on his face, enjoying the wreaths, garland, and fairy lights that lit up store windows in the old canal houses that marked the path down to Dam square, where by the flashing lights and loud music he guessed there was a carnival on.
He followed Snape through the crowds of families out for a walk on the last day of the year, grinning at little kids who were dressed in new clothing and eyes dancing from the sugary holiday treats they'd had. They hopped on a tram, Harry standing beside Snape and swaying as the tram jerked over the train tracks. Harry was reminded of the first time he'd ridden a Dutch street car in the summer, as a small little boy who was squashed in the seat between Snape and the side of the car, staring out the window in awe. Not much had changed, barring a few feet in height, Harry thought as he again stared out the window at the passing scenery.
The tram spat them out at Leidseplein, the very busy social square that was filled with tourists and Dutch people getting an early start on the celebrations for the evening. Street acrobats were performing in a circular space across from the tram stop, the few trees in the area were all lit up with Christmas lights, and there was a small clearing where a ice rink had been set up to go skating. Harry looked at it longingly as they walked around it, and it was a look that Snape didn't miss.
"If you wish to risk your neck on a sheet of ice, be my guest." Snape offered, nodding his head towards the skate rental booth. Six and seven year olds spun around the tiny rink, laughing at the encouragement and jolly yells from their parents as they went around.
"I'm good. Maybe another day when so many people aren't watching." Harry shook his head, content to just watch the kids skating.
"Merlin forbid, a Potter doesn't want to be the centre of attention." Snape drawled, but it lacked the disdain that sentence normally carried from him.
"Tomorrow's a new year." Harry smarted right back.
"So it is." Snape conceeded with a smirk.
Snape lead Harry through a group of drunken German teenagers to a small building at the northwest corner of the square, bright red lettering flashing a logo for Boom Chicago. Harry stepped in the door after Snape, passing through the tiny bar at the front and stopping at the ticket booth. Harry let his hair fall forward, the length longer to make him look a bit older and his glasses folded away in his pocket. Snape had done a temporary fix for his vision, similar to muggle contacts, and he'd let a scruff growth sprout up on his chin to match the picture in the fake passport Snape had made.
He looked like he had when they'd gone to London to meet Dennis Bishop, but this time instead of appearing like a sullen teenager, Harry was dressed in dark jeans, a black tee shirt, and a black fitted suit jacket. Snape was similarly dressed, though his scarf was a grey plaid one, dissimilar to Harry's red and black one. The waitress led them to the second floor balcony, a spot Snape preferred because when the show started, he did not want to be in the line of sight of the comedians. Harry personally thought this was a brilliant strategy.
Dinner arrived and Snape set up a localized muffliato, ignoring the chatter of the other theatre patrons around them.
"My research is done." Snape started, taking a sip of his beer and watching Harry's reaction carefully. There was very little doubt over what the subject of conversation was.
"And as I've destroyed the fourth horcrux, there's nothing left to stall." Harry answered, putting his fork down.
"No." Snape answered, still keeping his eyes locked on Harry's. "I am quite certain the headmaster has ideas of a final battle at Hogwarts with a large audience and a plethora of participants. I, however, would prefer a much smaller scale surprise meeting."
"Sort of like a plaster? Pull it off quick and it doesn't hurt as much as a long drawn out pull?" Harry's unease at discussing his destiny was evident in the way his hands shook while he cut his steak.
"Similar theory, yes. The Dark Lord is fond of grandiose speeches and is intent on putting you in his place."
"Yeah. In front of as many people as possible so he can prove he's unbeatable." Harry added, his sarcasm heavy.
"Don't interrupt." Snape narrowed his eyes. "I have a few ideas of how to accomplish this, but we will need to make a more detailed plan once back at school."
Harry nodded and took a drink of his pop. "I won't be facing him alone, will I?"
"I will be there." Snape answered immediately. "To protect my investment of time, of course."
Harry smiled uneasily and pushed his food around on his plate.
"And the potion you made, that's going to kill the horcrux inside me?"
"Yes." Snape answered, noting that the theatre was filling up nicely now.
"Am I going to die?" Harry then asked, looking like he'd steeled himself for the question.
Snape appeared to be considering giving Harry some of his beer, but soon thought better of it.
"Not if I've done everything correctly." Snape finally answered, tipping his bottle towards Harry's plate. Harry got the hint and slowly started eating again.
"Will people recognize me after? Once my horcrux is gone?"
At this Snape rolled his eyes.
"Are you planning on growing devil horns and turning your skin purple? I believe they will still recognize you, if that's the case."
"Well no." Harry grinned, spearing another piece of steak. "But you said I would lose some bits of me when the horcrux was gone, ‘cause you didn't know what was horcrux and what was stuff from me."
"Ah. Mental abilities will likely be somewhat corrupted." Snape answered, before continuing with his meal. "Similar to brain damage after a traumatic event, though I intend on remedying whatever problems arise as best I can. Your physical looks will stay the same."
"Oh, so I might just be a bit barmy, that's not too bad then." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, almost giddy to the point of giggles. He'd been terrified that he wouldn't remember his own name, wouldn't remember the face in the mirror that he looked into. Or worse, wouldn't realize that his lack of recognition was a bad thing.
"A bit barmy." Snape repeated, giving Harry his "you haven't understood a word I've said all day" look.
"You've had the horcrux since you were fifteen months old. By extension, it was there while you learned to talk, learned to feed yourself, learned how to use the toilet, learned to write, read, count, fly, dress yourself, cook, clean, do magic, and play. Any of these activities could be affected or lost when the horcrux is destroyed."
Harry stared at Snape as he swallowed his mouthful of food. Fifteen months was not that high up on the evolutionary scale, and even though Harry knew that the horcrux inside of him had to go, the challenge he faced doing it quite frankly scared him. Not knowing the most likely outcome at all would almost better than this guessing game at what would be lost.
"You'd teach me all these things again, if I forget how to do them?" Harry asked, trying not to sound hopeful that no matter what happened, Snape would stick around.
"Yes, Elliot." Snape sighed, sounding put out and very sarcastic. "I will help you learn to read again, eat properly without dribbling food on yourself, make sure you don't break your neck the next time you hop on a broom. I will even potty train you, as embarrassing as that will be for the both of us." Snape rolled his eyes and took another sip of beer.
Spotlights from somewhere to the back left of the balcony turned on and flickered around the room before focusing on the stage. Harry hid his smile as he looked down on his plate, twirling his fork. Going into battle knowing that someone would be waiting for him on the other side, no matter how he came out, made the war suddenly feel not quite as impossible as before.
"Thanks, Dad." Harry said sincerely, catching Snape off guard in a blush.
"Yes, well. Shut up and eat your green beans, the show is about to start." Snape replied, looking uncomfortable but accomplished.
.....
Once the comedy show was over they stepped back out into Leidseplein and noticed a marked difference from earlier. It was quarter past eleven, and the crowd had turned into a much rowdier adult one, most in varying states of inebriation as they sang and laughed together. Fireworks were going off at random intervals around them, boxes of noisemakers that drunken revelers were setting alight in doorsteps of pubs. Snape paused by the Irish pub on the north side of the square, checking his pocket map for the quickest route up to Dam square, where the palace was, and Harry started laughing as he listened to the song some people at the bar were singing. The words came in Dutch, and his babelfish translated most of the non-slurred ones. Harry got the gist though, and snickered while they toasted a young man named Youp and sang about his pet rabbit that went missing, only to turn up again for the family Christmas dinner. Harry was fighting a wide smile as Snape lead him away and they reached the end of the song, when the boy's father ended up missing the next day and was implicated to turn up later, ‘round dinner time.
"That is a disturbing song." Snape muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground and quickly side stepping some small firecrackers that had been tossed along the street to startle people.
"Poor Flappie." Harry replied, grinning madly.
They passed over three bridges, the canals filled with lit up houseboats and people blaring music, heading up towards Kalverstraat. Turning a corner to a smaller street to cut through to Rokin, Harry blinked as they came upon two groups of teens with roman candles, seemingly using them in battle against each other. They paused to allow Snape and Harry passage, before starting again and shrieking with laughter. Mad, Harry thought, shaking his head. These people are absolutely mad. To his left more loud crackling started, a box of noise makers sparkling in the street and people gleefully shouting as they passed it.
The noise only got louder as they approached Dam square, huge speakers set up around the area fading out the last bits of No Doubt's Don't Speak, one of the more popular songs of the year. Another started, a very camp sounding song that sounded more like something Harry would expect from an outdoor festival, but the crowd seemed to love it if Harry were to go by the cheers and laughter. The vocals started and the crowd jumped right in, making Harry wonder if his babelfish was working properly. They all seemed to be singing about a train.
"We're going to the De Bijenkorf." Snape leaned in and stated loudly, confusing Harry further. They were going to the beehive? Snape, noting Harry's confusion, shook his head and pointed towards an old and impressive department store on the north side of the war monument, the old fashioned white lettering on the side reading out the name De Bijenkorf. Its windows were framed in sparking white lights and wreaths hung down in patterned intervals, the bottom display windows lit up each in their own different coloured lights, the Christmas trees inside flashing white and silver. At the top of the building's rounded edge roof lay garland and bunches of what looked like red holly berries. Harry could just see, if he squinted right, people walking around on the roof.
"That's the best place to watch the fireworks." Snape explained, leading Harry to a non-descript and muggle-invisible door next to the shuttered main ones of the department store.
"You've been here before for new years?" Harry asked, surprised.
Snape handed over their tickets to the doorman, who briefly glanced at Harry's ID. He was grateful that Snape had covered up his famous scar. The doors to the store closed as the crowd sang one exuberant "kedang kedang!" of the chorus.
"Yes, with a cousin of mine when I was much younger. I was not nearly this sober at the time." Snape responded with a glint in his eye.
"I can't really picture you as a troublemaker when you were a teenager." Harry said, as they stepped on the elevator to go up.
"I am insulted that you assume I would have gotten caught." Snape replied, tapping the back of Harry's head.
Once they'd reached the roof, Harry and Snape stepped out to see a mini street fair set up for wizards and witches. There were small little booths identical to the ones on Leidseplein, selling holiday pastries and drinks, a carriage with different souvenirs from Amsterdam, cotton candy, chocolate frogs, dark salted licorice cauldrons, and multi-flavoured fizzing whizzbee drinks. At the far end of the roof, opposite the edge that looked down onto Dam square, was a small stage and a group of Dutch musicians that Harry had never heard of before playing the latest in Dutch wizard rock, standing beneath a large blue-glowing hourglass that was counting down the time to the new year.
"Do you want a doughnut?" Harry asked, startling Snape out of his concentration. He'd been lost in thought while staring at one of the flags behind them, at the beehive/honeycomb logo of the department store.
"Pardon?" Snape asked.
"A doughnut. Or...oliebollen." Harry tried to pronounce as he pointed at the snack carriage displaying an array of rounded doughnut balls in varying flavours. The cart also had a selection of poffertjes, small mini pancakes dusted in powdered sugar, and what looked especially good to Snape, the stroopwafel. Thin rounded waffle pieces held together in twos by a layer of thick caramel syrup between.
"An excellent idea." Snape agreed, pulling some galleons out of his pocket.
"I saw you staring a the beehive picture earlier." Harry said moments later, in-between biting off chunks of doughnut and getting powdered sugar all over his mouth and chin.
"Mmmh." Snape responded, the caramel of the stroopwafel still hot and stringy in the cold air.
"Wouldn't that be wicked? Dump a beehive over his head and let them do the job." Harry was grinning, enjoying his own imagination. "I can just picture Voldemort running around, screaming ‘I'm covered in bees!' while the other death eaters tried to figure out what to do. What can you do to bees? Is there a spell to kill them?" Harry asked, taking another doughnut ball from the bag.
Snape merely raised his eyebrow as if to encourage him to continue. Snape had found at times like these, it was best to let Harry go and be amused at the random dribble he postulated.
"The killing curse won't work, cause those little buggers are fast and unpredictable. You can't summon them either, well you could but not even I'm stupid enough to summon something with a brain the size of a fish egg and a stinger on it's arse."
Snape snorted at this, evidently thinking of the death eaters he knew who would try to summon them that way.
"There must be some sort of pesticide spell or something. Mrs. Weasley probably knows it or it's in one of her household books. I bet it's really easy, too. Just walk around and shout exterminate! Or something like that." Harry finished his doughnut with flourish, looking amused by logic.
Snape, caught up in the imagery of deficient death eaters summoning a hive of bees from a panicked Dark Lord's head while a crazed Harry Potter ran around in true Dalek form, waving his wand and commanding everything that moved to ‘exterminate', started laughing. It was a deep laugh, one that sounded not used nearly enough, and Harry found it intriguing. Snape didn't smile all that often, but the laugh lines fit his face perfectly and his hair shook out of his eyes while he chuckled.
"There is something seriously wrong with you." Snape responded when he'd caught his breath.
"Yeah, well, there's about to be." Harry smiled back, still in a good mood but still nervous about what was to come.
A chime sounded from both the wizard stage and the crowd below to start the countdown. In the spirit of things Harry counted backwards in Dutch, his eyes whipping over the eager faces in their crowd and the chants of anticipation from the muggles below. Snape was standing silently, but there was a bright light in his eyes as he watched the last grains of sand for 1996 run out of the hourglass.
"Happy new year!" Harry shouted, full of excitement. His mouth dropped not two seconds later as the city literally exploded in front of him. Fireworks from below rocketed up in multicolored streams and a group of security wizards set off a bundle to rival any creation Fred and George could have created. He barely felt Snape's hand on his shoulders, a strong grip that turned him slowly to get a 360-degree look of the bursts of colour. Harry blinked rapidly as he watched, quite certain he'd never seen anything like this before. It was almost as if the Dutch were at war with the night, and were determined to drive it off with screaming vibrant explosions.
"The only time I have ever seen anything to rival this, Mr. Potter, was when you defeated Voldemort the first time." Snape commented softly, his voice not reaching past either of them. The use of Voldemort's real name was not lost on Harry as he turned to look at Snape.
"I expect to see it again this year, Elliot." There was a soft look in Snape's eye, a trusting look that told Harry that Snape was very confident in Harry's abilities to succeed again.
Small trails of smoke started to drift off around them as the fireworks continued, the city lighting itself up in flashes throughout the neighbourhoods in mostly unofficial displays. As Harry leaned over the rounded roof edge and watched the celebrants below, he knew for a fact that he would not let Snape down.