Instead of Apparating back home straight away when he had collected the plainly wrapped gift that had travelled all the way from Central America, Snape found himself walking along the Alley once again, in the opposite direction. The crowd had, if possible, gotten even denser. This time, Snape looked attentively at the faces of the wizards and witches, turning his head to scan the entrances to the shops on either side of the street as if looking for someone. 

He finally caught sight of a plump figure outside Madam Malkin’s and after only a short deliberation, because he was painfully aware of having ignored the woman only a short while ago, Snape stepped up to Molly Weasley.

”Merry Christmas, Mrs Weasley,” he said in his deep voice. Molly Weasley turned around with surprise written on her face. 

”Why, Merry Christmas, Severus! ” After a slight hesitation, she added. ”You’re welcome to call me Molly, you know. Even if we don’t see each other very often, we worked in the Order together and have acquaintances in common - I’m speaking of Harry, of course.” Snape had to admire the woman’s candidness and ability to overlook his negligence before. This witch was the picture of humbleness and good nature.

”Of course… Molly… I was just about to ask you whether…” he begun to say, but Mrs Weasley rattled on. 

”Harry has become such a charming young man, really. Good looking too. Those glasses of his did not do him justice - good riddance, I’d say. Ron and he see quite a lot of each other, but he does not visit nearly often enough at the Burrow,” she complained. 

Snape hummed and she leant in closer to him.

”I suspect it has something to do with Ginny,” she hissed confidentially. ”He tries to avoid her when he visits. Not that he has said anything, but I have eyes of my own, don’t I?” She lifted one eyebrow as if to defy Snape to contradict her and when he said nothing, she continued. ”I guess that relationship of hers with Neville Longbottom was inevitable, as they were left to each others during the war and that sort of experiences create all kind of strong bonds between people. Just look at yourself and Harry… But I really don’t know why they carried on their relationship for so long after the war. He’s a nice enough boy, Neville is, but they are so different in temperament, you know?” She looked at Snape who put on a noncommittal expression.

”So how is… Miss Ginevra doing?” he asked.

”She’s doing quite well, she is, considering that she broke up with Neville only a couple of weeks ago. She’s got hold of another young man, though - someone at her quidditch team. Next time, you tell Harry to show his interest a little plainer and expressly. She’s impulsive and impatient, my daughter is. I don’t think this is serious, though, just a fling. She’s not even bringing him home for Christmas. It will end in a few weeks, I’d say. Maybe it’s just as well. After a long relationship like the one with Neville and her being on the… what do the young people call it?… the rebound… Harry had better step in when she has stabilised a bit. We wouldn’t want him to get hurt now, would we?” She looked sternly at Snape who shook his head without having to pretend his whole-hearted agreement. 

”Molly,” he said, ”I wonder if you could do me a favour?” He offered her the small package. ”Would you give this to Harry from me?”

Mrs Weasley had reached out to accept the parcel, but withdrew her hand.

”I don’t think I’ll see Harry the next couple of days,” she said. Snape frowned.

”Is he not celebrating Christmas at the Burrow?” he asked.

”No. I invited him, of course, but he declined a couple of days ago. I think he said he was going to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. Hagrid had persuaded him to come,” answered Mrs Weasley. The furrow between Snape’s eyes deepened. 

”I’m sorry, but I need to be off,” he said hurriedly. ”If you come across Harry, please tell him… please tell him I would like to see him… as soon as possible,” he added. Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but finally contented herself with nodding. ”Greetings to Arthur and the rest of your family,” Snape said distractedly and lifted a hand as sign of good-bye.

When he moved away, Snape’s heart was racing and causing him a dull pain in the chest that he chose to ignore. When he lengthened his steps, however, his breathing became markedly laboured and he had to stop to calm down, which was just as well because it forced him to consider where he was actually going. 

Harry had declined both Minerva McGonagall’s and Molly Weasley’s invitations, Snape realised. Moreover he seemed to have used the one as an excuse to escape the other. What did it mean? The sudden dread that filled Snape made it difficult for him to think coherently.

What if Harry was planning to leave? What if the extreme cold the last week had precipitated a relapse in the Ague? Snape damned himself for not having thought about the possibility. He had been so full of his own preoccupations that he had not thought of checking on Harry. 

The young man had had one single relapse during the autumn, but he had been wise enough at the time to seek Snape out and tell him about the rising cravings for heat and sun. Snape had praised Harry for confiding in him and they had parted together on an unplanned holiday for the warmth of Mexico and Peru and Harry’s symptoms had abated promptly. It was during the same voyage that they had met with the powerful American Indian witch in the Aztec mountains who, later, had made the amulet Snape intended to give Harry for Christmas. 

That episode had given Snape a false sense of security that Harry would act in a similar way should a new relapse occur, but now he was far from sure. He was aware of the fact that he had acted more than reasonably odd around the young wizard lately. Harry was a sensitive person, just like Lily had been, sure to pick up the slightest shift in behaviour or countenance in a friend and with a propensity to put guilt on himself, as well as a tendency to resign and withdraw, without actually sorting things out with the person in question, that reminded Snape painfully of himself. Once again Snape damned himself for his complicated feelings and his reluctance to share them with Harry.  

What stood absolutely clear to him, however, at this precise moment, was that if Harry should leave, like he had done after the war, for an undeterminable stretch of time, impossible to reach - if that would happen again, it would be unbearable to Snape. He did not think he would be able to survive such an abandon - it was as simple as that. 

With a deep gasp for air Snape started to run towards the exit to Muggle London at the Leaky Cauldron, once again ignoring the squeezing feeling in his chest.