In the hours after their escape from Nagini, Harry was shivering and in agony. The bite he had received throbbed from the paralyzing venom, and his scar ached and burned from his near miss with Voldemort. His mind was lost to him for a brief time, as he remembered what had happened on that long ago Halloween. When he came out of the nightmare, all he could think of was the fact that he was alone, Hermione having collapsed from sheer exhaustion nearby.

Harry sighed and curled tightly into a ball, wondering what everyone was doing this Christmas. He fully expected not to receive anything this year; it would be far too dangerous if anyone knew where they were enough to deliver presents. Still, that didn't stop his mind from twisting around itself in fear and loneliness. He had never dealt well with being alone in a silent place, especially after Sirius had died. It was always all consuming, and it made him miss the Gryffindor common room all the more.

Lost in thought, and silently whimpering to himself from the agony that pounded through his body, he didn't notice the tent flap open and close. Nor did he notice the shadow that crept up to him. He did, however, notice the hand that touched his forehead. He jumped slightly, automatically reaching for where his wand should be; he would have panicked, not finding it, had he not recognized the feel of that slender hand, and the smell coming off the black robes.

Turning onto his back, he glanced up at the dark shadow. He whispered hoarsely “Dad...you're here? But...why?” He could barely see the dark shadow by the little bit of moonlight that shone through the canvas. He felt the bed dip as his dad sat down on the edge, his hand still on Harry's forehead.

“Did you honestly think, my little firebird, that I would stay away on Christmas? Especially when I heard that He planned on ambushing you at Godric's Hollow? I knew that you would be unable to resist going to where it all began, so I've been keeping an eye out.” that silky soft voice murmured quietly. Harry smiled wryly at his dad's accurate description of him, before hissing softly as his scar gave a particularly nasty throb.

The shadow rustled in his robes, and his dad soon had pressed a cool, wet cloth against the lightning bolt scar. Harry relaxed, recognizing Murtlap Essence. He murmured, “Sorry for worrying you dad. I know your work is important.” He was instantly hushed by a finger to his lips, before that finger was removed.

“Enough, Harry; you're my most important work. Even if it was unofficial to protect us, I agreed to protect and look after you. If I was a sentimental person, I would even say love you.” The voice was light with amusement at the end, knowing that Harry found it amusing that his dad had difficulty admitting he loved the reckless Gryffindor. The shadow pulled out a small vial, and slipped it into Harry's hand, “Have Miss Granger put a drop of that on any other wounds. Fawkes last gift before he left.”

Harry nodded, then grabbed at his dad's sleeve as he made to get up. He said, “Be careful, okay dad?” His eyes were wide with worry, though the darkness didn't allow them to glow. The shadow carefully hugged Harry, before covering him with a blanket that he obviously had shrunk and regrown.

“Same to you, little firebird. I will leave something important for you in a few days time. Try not to leap before looking?” the voice asked casually, though there was real worry behind it. Harry nodded with a slight grin, before relaxing into the bed. He was ready for sleep. His grin grew as he heard his dad's last words: “Merry Christmas, Harry Potter-Snape.” The tent flap opened, allowing the moon to shine on his dad's black eyes and crooked nose.

Harry waved, before closing his eyes. He murmured, “Merry Christmas, dad.” He knew in the morning Hermione would ask where the Murtlap Essence soaked cloth came from. He honestly didn't know what to tell her, but didn't care. As the tent flap closed, he fell asleep, with one hand clenching the blankets. The other hand held tight to the precious, unbreakable vial of phoenix tears, who would have more than one use.