The Christmas holidays came and Snape was about to yank out every strand of hair. Harry's excitement, while endearing, at first, was beginning to drive him mad. Snape himself had no fondness for the holiday, for the decorations, blinking lights, and Christmas carols. He soon realised that he'd have to change his attitude, or as Minerva put it, 'Don't be a Scrooge to your son this Christmas!'

Snape had never minded the comparison to the stingy curmudgeon from A Christmas Carol, but this time that was the last thing he wanted to be for his son. Before he knew it, his quarters were hung with glittering fairy lights, yards of ivy and holly, a wreath on his portrait door (which the subject, an irascible Galileo didn't care for), and stockings (one for Harry and one for Snape) hanging over the fireplace.

The one saving grace in Harry's enthusiasm was that he wasn't constantly asking (demanding) his father get him this thing or that thing for Christmas. It wasn't until a week before Christmas that Snape discovered that Harry didn't even know he was supposed to get presents on Christmas day. He was very excited to learn that Father Christmas would bring him something and put it under the tree. In the next minute, though, Harry also learned that his friends would be giving him gifts.

"Harry? Why are you sniffling?" Snape looked down at the little boy who only seconds before had been dancing around the sitting room plotting ways to catch Father Christmas.

"If my friends are getting me presents, I can't get them anything. I don't have any money!"

Snape smirked. "Ah. That is a problem, isn't it. You know, maybe it's time for you to receive an allowance. Although, you are only six."

Harry scowled and the sniffles were gone. "What's an 'lowance?"

"Allowance," Snape enunciated. "It is a weekly stipend that good children receive for doing things like keeping their room clean, and doing chores around the house."

"But you said I'm only six," reminded Harry. "Can't six year olds have an allowance?"

"Well, I don't know," Snape teased lightly, "but, you have been exceptionally good of late. You even managed to end the feud between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. No mean feat that was." Harry grinned. "Perhaps you should get a weekly allowance since as six year olds go, I consider you rather exceptional. In fact, you're probably due some back pay." Harry frowned and Snape quickly explained what back pay was. "Wait here."

Snape disappeared into his room and a few minutes later he came out with a small leather, drawstring purse. He shook it and the contents jingled. "Five galleons and ten knuts should do it, don't you think?" He handed Harry the purse.

Harry opened the little purse and stared down at the gold coins. He was RICH! Jumping up, he hugged his father's legs and then looked up, "When can I go shopping?"

Snape did a very good job of erasing the look of disgust and chagrin that wanted to plant itself on his face. "We'll go to Diagon Alley in a few days, but I want you to give some thought, first, to what you'd like to get your friends. All right?"

Harry nodded in agreement and headed back to his bedroom. He had some thinking to do.

Harry was certain of what he'd get his friends for Christmas, but the one person he didn't know what to get was his father. At lunch the next day, he left the staff table and Snape watched curiously as the little boy talked first to Ron and then to Draco. Whatever he discussed with the two boys had him smiling rather smugly when he trotted back to the table and took his chair beside his father.

Snape leaned towards his son and his voice thrummed with warning, "You appear to be a boy who is... up... to something."

"I'm being a GOOD boy, daddy." Harry grinned, picked up his bowl of soup and slurped loudly at the broth.

"Harry!" snapped Snape.

"Sorry."