All day Harry felt the giddiness in the pit of his stomach. It was like fairies fluttering in his stomach. He had woke up an hour earlier than he normally did. Severus had eyed him suspiciously, knowing very well his son’s sleeping habits, and practically every other habit.

“Breakfast is not yet ready, Harry.” Severus said, still staring at the boy. Harry looked at his father, his eyes twinkling annoyingly like Albus’ did when he was soon going to something that he knew Severus would not like, yet would for some reason, completely unknown reason, still hope that Severus would like it.

“I know, Dad! I just couldn’t sleep any longer!” Harry smiled.

“You’re not opening any presents yet. If I bought you any to begin with. Not that you deserve anything for your abominable behavior lately.”

Harry stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

“Daaaaaad!!!” Harry nearly wailed.

Harry almost missed the mischievous gleam in his father’s eyes.

~*~*~*~Twelve Days of Christmas~*~*~*~

After lunch, Harry was about to drive Severus completely insane. He had been following his father around since breakfast. It was so bad that Severus stopped at one point and Harry ran directly into him, nearly knocking both of them to the floor.

“Harrison Snape! What are you doing?” Severus finally asked him.

Harry looked up at him.

“I’m bored. I was going to see what you were doing.” He said simply.

“Child, you are fifteen. Surely you are old enough to find something to do.”

Harry looked at the floor for a moment. He smirked.

“I know what we could do, Dad.” Harry said.

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

“We could open presents!” Harry said excitedly.

Fifteen minutes later, Severus had Harry dissecting single-horned globber toads.

Harry secretly wished that he would have just gone to his room and read something.

For, even a Lockhart book would have been better than preparing this particular potion ingredients.

It smelled so badly that Harry was positive that he would smell like the toad for the rest of his life.

At a table on the opposite side of his lab, Severus smirked humorously.

Of course, he was standing in a charmed, invisible bubble of fresh air.

~*~*~*~Twelve Days of Christmas~*~*~*~

At dinner, Harry was convinced that he still smelled like the stupid toads that he had had to prepare.

Even despite the fact that he had taken a forty-five minute shower, using every ounce of hot water in the house, he felt that he smelled. (Severus had been thankful for the forty-five minutes of glare-free time where he could stop feeling on edge from the continuous stares his son was sending his way.)

However, Severus finally convinced him that he smelled fine, and that it was time for them to prepare Christmas Eve dinner, something they did together every year.

It was a simple meal: Tomato soup and grilled cheese, vanilla ice cream for dessert. It was a tradition that they had since their third Christmas together, when Harry was three. He had been sick for nearly five days, and was still feeling too eat much, but he loved (and still did) tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, so they had eaten that.

The next year, after slaving away in the kitchen cooking a roasted chicken with stuffing, roasted sweet potatoes, green beans wrapped with bacon, and a nice Yorkshire pudding.

When they had sat down to eat, four year old Harry burst into tears. 

Severus looked at him, baffled by his tears, and asked him what was wrong.

He had thought that they were having grilled cheese and tomato soup since that was what they had had the year before when Santa Claus was coming.

Unable to refuse his tearful four year old on Christmas Eve, the two had made the meal together every year since.

“This is good, Dad.” Harry said, eating through his second bowl of soup and his third sandwich. Severus remembered when his son could only eat half of his soup and one sandwich.

It was kind of depressing. His son was growing up, and it was bitter sweet.

“I’m done, Dad! Do we get to open up our first present now?” Harry said excitedly.

Or, perhaps he wasn’t as grown up as he wanted to pretend to be.

~*~*~*~Twelve Days of Christmas~*~*~*~

An hour before Harry was to go to bed, he and Severus sat in the living room sitting in front of the fireplace, beside the Christmas tree, with tea in the hands of one and hot cocoa in the hands of the other.

They sat in silence, side by side.

“I’m sorry about misbehaving so much, Dad. I didn’t mean to ruin the beginning of your Holidays.” Harry whispered, leaning into his father a little. He didn’t care that he was fifteen. His Dad was pretty much the only person that he felt this safe with.

Severus stretched his arm out and put it around his son.

“Never forget, Harry, that no matter how much you misbehave, you are my son and I love nothing as much as I love you.”

If it wouldn’t have been completely silent except for the crackle of the fire and the light buzz of the fairies in the tree, Harry probably would not have heard him. But, as it was so silent, his only response was to smile.

“Here.” Severus said, levitating a wrapped present over to him.

Harry opened the present quickly, excited to finally get his allotted one present for Christmas eve.

He looked at it. Unsure of how to take the gift.

It was a book.

Twas the Night Before Christmas.

But, then he opened up the cover to find two inscriptions, one in a girlish scrawl and the other in the spiky writing of his father.

To Sev, with all my Love, Lily. 

To Harry, with every ounce of Love I have, Dad…and Mum, despite the fact she cannot be here.