Dear sir,

I know the donor was you. Please, stop hiding. You've been exonerated of all crimes, or alleged crimes as I see it.

Yes, Severus knew Potter's opinion. Potter wasn't exactly secretive with it. In fact, the boy – well, the young man, now – had made a press conference about the matter shortly after the war had ended. He spoke passionately in Severus' favour, and he somehow persuaded the wizarding public. Or so it seemed. Severus wasn't foolish enough to trust something as fickle as the opinion of the dumb masses.

We are very grateful for the potions you made for our orphanage. It saved us a lot of Galleons and time. Thank you very much for them.

It possibly also saved some of the children's lives, Severus thought uncharitably. Potter was an abysmal brewer and Ginevra Weasley – Ginevra Potter, now - wasn't much better. Granger hadn't survived the war—Severus felt surprisingly strong pang of pain every time he remembered the fact. The annoying know-it -all had got under his skin somehow.

Severus was making a small fortune as an independent – and anonymous - potions brewer. Prices of the potions went up gradually during and even after the war. There were casualties among the brewers, which lowered the supply. At the same time, demand was high, as the large amount of wounded wizards and witches needed a prolonged potions regime treatment. Both trends played into the sellers' hands. Severus was more than glad to use a part of his earnings to supply Potter's shelter for war orphans.

I know it's you, Snape. We suspected, and Ginny thought to take the potions to Poppy Pomfrey. She recognised for sure that those were your receipts, tweaked to be more potent.

Potter was repeating himself, Severus frowned. The very same thing had been stated in his letter last year.

And more annoying was the fact that Potter's owl found him. Again!

Severus had hidden himself well. Nobody had ever found him, and Severus knew for sure it wasn't for lack of trying. Nobody had found him but this snowy owl. Severus glared at her. She cocked her head and if an owl's beak could smirk, she would have smirked. Hell, she did smirk! Severus was sure of it.

How on Earth could she find him?

The procedure that hid a person from owls was easy. There was a short and simple enough ritual in which you used your name. After performing it, owls couldn't find you under the name. The somewhat tricky part was, you had to think up every name a large group of wizards knew you under. Severus performed the ritual for the name 'Severus Snape', of course, and then he repeated it for plain 'Snape' and 'Severus'. Then he repeated the ritual again for the title 'Head of Slytherin'. He repeated it again for 'the Potions Master Snape'. Then for 'the Death-Eater Snape'. And just to be absolutely sure, for 'Severus Prince'.

Since then, no owl had found him but those for 'Marcus Brewer', Severus' new alias. Until the last Christmas, that is.

After Potter's owl's first visit, Severus performed the ritual again, for the title 'the Bat of the Dungeons'.

Apparently, the owl hadn't been stopped, as Severus had the 'pleasure' to read through this letter.

We hope to hear from you soon. I would like to invite you to our orphanage, so that you could meet in person the children who benefit from your generosity.

We wish you a happy Christmas. Sincerely,

Harry Potter

The problem was, Severus couldn't think of another term under which he would be known. 'The Bastard Snape'? 'The Hogwart's Potions Master'?

In the end, he took a piece of parchment and scribbled:

Leave me alone! SS

Now, there. Even a simpleton like Potter had to understand that.

The owl took off. Severus, feeling rather ridiculous, performed the ritual for the two 'names' he had thought of. Then he went to his brewing. The Christmas Day was just a day like any other to him. No sentiment for Christmas for the lonely.

The next morning the owl was back. Severus angrily took the note from her and read:

Sorry, sir. I can't. But I'll wait. Till the next Christmas. Sincerely, Harry Potter

Severus scowled. Why couldn't the brat leave him alone? He angrily scribbled a note on the back of Potter's parchment.

Do not dare to contact me unless you need a potion for a child. SS

xxssxx

Harry, Ginny, the children, and Ron – visiting, as he often did – were just eating lunch when Hedwig returned. Harry glanced at the note and sighed.

"Why can't he give in?" he asked a rhetorical question.

"The Slimy Git will never change," Ron said philosophically with his mouth full of potatoes.

Harry sighed. Snape was a hero to him. To the rest of the Gryffindors, though, he would always be 'the Slimy Git'. Enough so for an owl to grasp on the name.