There was a small black bear cub sitting on his bed, staring at him.  It made something similar to a purring sound at him and then bent down and grabbed Captain with its mouth. 

Severus blinked in surprise as something small and white atop the cub’s head came into view.  It was a discolored patch of fur in the shape of a tiny lightning bolt. 

“Harry?”  He asked softly, his dark amber eyes wide with shock. 

The cub butted him with his head and then abruptly turned back into the little messy haired boy that Severus had just recently gotten used to thinking of as his. 

“Hi Daddy,” the child said shyly, tucking himself into the space between Severus’s arms with ease. 

Severus opened and closed his mouth several times, attempting to say something, but without success.  Finally he settled for rubbing his long fingers through the lad’s soft fur—er hair. 

“Harry, have you ever heard the word, ‘animagi?’”  He managed to say sometime later. 

. . .

A little girl was screaming at the edge of the marketplace.  Albus knew who it was and why.  The younger Albus soon would too. 

“What happened?”  James asked him, an uncharacteristically genuine look of concern on the dead man’s face. 

“Three muggle boys attacked her,” he said vaguely, lost in his memories. 

“For being magical?”

“Yes,” he answered stiffly. 

“How did she fare afterwards?”

“She didn’t,” he answered bluntly. 

“You mean she died?”  A look of astonishment came across James’s face. 

“No,” he replied a bit sharply.  “But it would have been better for all involved if she had,” he added softly a few minutes later.

They were walking along the outskirts of the town; working their way slowly back to his childhood home. 

“For weeks she was catatonic with fear; forcing my mother and father to stand by helplessly and watch in misery.”  He looked up at James, the twinkle absent from his gaze.  “And then one day, she just,” he shrugged, at loss for a better description.  “She just came out of it one day.”

“How long?”

“The attack occurred during the summer when she was six.  She didn’t start speaking again until late October.  All Hallow’s Eve, to be precise,” he glanced at the other man. 

“Halloween,” James’s eyes widened appreciatively.  “What were her first words?” 

Albus grimaced.

“‘I’m sorry,’” he said bitterly, looking away from his companion. 

. . .

“Who’s dat?”  Little Harry asked, pointing at a picture of a lady.  After breakfast, his daddy had arranged them on the couch and pulled out a photo album that they were now going through. 

“That would be your grandmother,” his Tall Man answered patiently; easily holding him, Captain and the book in his lap. 

“What’s a gand-mother?”  He asked, peering up at his daddy. 

“Grandmother,” his Tall Man clarified.  “It is a way of referring to your mother’s mother.” 

He looked up at his daddy with wide eyes. 

“Mummy?”  He whispered, clutching his bear tightly. 

His daddy turned the page to reveal a very familiar looking face.  The woman had red hair and bright green eyes, the same color that his were. 

“Dat’s my angel,” he said, pointing solemnly at the picture. 

“That’s your mum, Harry,” his daddy said quietly. 

Harry turned around in surprise.  

“That’s my mummy?”  He looked up at his Tall Man for confirmation, and his daddy answered with a nod.  “My angel is my mummy?”  He added seconds later as the pieces fell into place. 

“Yes,” was his daddy’s answer. 

He could feel long fingers stroking his head and he allowed himself to lean into them; relaxing from the comfort he felt from them. 

His daddy turned the page and a grin came over the small boy’s face at the image he saw looking up at him. 

“I know who dat is,” he said, pointing a tiny finger at the picture. 

“And who would that be?”  His daddy asked him with a small teasing smile. 

“Dat’s my Tall Man,” he said proudly.  “That’s my daddy,” he added softly, looking back up at his Tall Man for reassurance.

“It is indeed,” his daddy told him, tightening his longer arms around the small boy’s thin waist as he did.

If Harry had looked up then, he would have seen a slight blush on his Tall Man’s cheeks from that admission.  However, the blush soon faded, and soon both he and his adopted father were fully reinvested in the treasure chest of memories that was held within the old book sitting atop their laps.    

. . .

Later that day, Severus called Minerva via the floo. 

“Might I borrow your old tabby cat for a bit this afternoon, Minerva?”  Was his first question to her. 

“Are you sure that’s a wise idea?” 

“I have a theory about what happened the last time that you visited.  I’m fairly positive that his reaction to you will not be the same this time,” he answered seriously. 

“I didn’t see you at the feast earlier,” she said in a reproving tone; her progression to the next topic telling him that she was at least interested in hearing his reasons behind the need for her to visit. 

“Harry and I were busy looking at pictures of his mother,” he answered with a pointed look. 

The older woman didn’t give him a verbal response, but he did see a brief smile pass across her face at his words. 

“Why the sudden interest in my old cat, Severus?”  She asked again, but this time with a flash of humor in her eyes. 

“I had a rather interesting experience this morning,” he said, ignoring her bait. 

“And?”

So he told her about the black cub and seeing the boy’s transformation with his own eyes.  When he finished talking, the older woman looked at him with a new look in her eyes. 

“Natural animagus talent; not unheard of, but certainly not something very common, particularly in one so young,” she said, her excitement beginning to grow. 

“Does this mean that you’ll come this afternoon?”  He asked.

His colleague nodded, so without further comment, he ended their conversation and pulled himself out of the fireplace to allow her passage through. 

Shortly after that, the floo flared again and a very distinctive tabby cat made its way easily into his quarters.  She looked at him with a haughty look and an upturned tail, and he sighed.  It was no wonder that Minerva McGonagall had become a cat, as both were equally insufferable. 

With a stern look, he told her in no uncertain terms that she should stay there while he retrieved the child from his bedroom.  Content to see that she was not immediately following after him, he went into his bedroom and then onto the bed where the lad had been taking a nap. 

Solemn green eyes peeked back up at him from within a nest of blankets, and judging from the sight of a small pink ear sticking out from under the covers, he could tell that Captain was in the lad’s arms as well.  The boy’s glasses were still in Severus pocket—after having been charmed against breaking and scratching—and he quickly put them back on his son’s face. 

“I have something to show you,” he said quietly, picking the small boy up easily and perching him on a hip as he walked them back into the other room. 

Harry’s thumb was in his mouth, while his other hand was curled tightly around his bear, but his eyes were bright as he took in the cat that was waiting patiently for them on the couch.  Severus sat them down next to the small animal, hoping to encourage the child to reach out and touch the tabby.  Secretly he hoped that Harry would take after like other small boys and try to pull the old cat’s tail, but he had a feeling that it would likely never happen. 

Oh well, he thought to himself with a slight smirk, a man can dream. 

Severus watched as his small boy quietly took in the sight of the cat.  The tabby allowed him to stare for a few minutes unbothered, and then took the lead.  Stretching out one paw and then two, she made herself comfortable in their space. 

The small boy looked up at him with a question in his eyes and Severus nodded, and then with a firm hand, he reached out and rubbed the cat’s head between her ears.  Following suit, his tiny imp of a lad reached out with a more hesitant and much smaller hand and did likewise. 

 Soon the old tabby was purring in their laps, and Severus had to fight back a grin at the quiet delight that his child was exhibiting at the sight. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen, but when it did, he was glad of it. 

The form of his small son suddenly morphed quite clearly before his eyes, leaving in his place a small black furry bear cub.  It seemed that the boy was at ease in his environment now, and Severus watched on in amusement as the two quite different animals sought to evaluate one another. 

It was exquisitely sweet to watch the small cub gently raise a paw to the cat’s head and then rub it through her fur.  They took turns sniffing one another, his cub lifting and showing the tabby his small pink stuffed toy, and watching as the cat batted playfully at it.  The two played together for nearly half an hour before his child abruptly reappeared in his lap, small thumb already back in his mouth, as the boy leaned tiredly back into his chest. 

Severus smirked and then picked up his boy (and his son’s bear), and moved them over to the fireplace.  He opened the floo and called out Minerva’s destination quite clearly into the green flames.  Shortly after receiving yet another haughty look from his still furry colleague, Minerva took her leave of them. 

The two Snape boys were left alone with only a small pink teddy bear for company, but it was enough for them. 

All in all, Severus felt that it was one of his best Christmas’s ever.   And looking at the boy still cradled protectively in his arms, he felt almost certain that it his son’s best ever as well.