Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 16

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Harry,” Snape said. “I can’t let you starve yourself, any more than I can let you stay in bed all day. You have to get up.”

“Why?”

Because if you fall into a deep depression, I have no idea how l will get you out of it. “Because it is not healthy. You need to live.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Harry breathed in a voice so quiet that if Snape didn’t have particularly good hearing he would have missed it.

“Do you mean that?” Snape asked. He could practically taste the despair that rolled off the boy in waves.

Harry shrugged.

Snape stood up from where he had been sitting on Harry’s camp bed. He yanked the covers off the boy. “Get up. Now. You are going to shower, and then you are going to eat.”

Harry groaned and Snape was almost hoping he’d say ‘make me’. At least that would have represented some defiance, some spark of life.

Instead, Harry dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

Snape shook his head. He had to do something, and quickly, to break this cycle. His schedule idea had been overzealous and, loath as he was to admit it, an utter failure. Harry did best when Snape could find something practical and relevant for him to do—such as brewing the hair growth potion or adding wards to the safe house. He needed to figure out what else was important to Harry so he could build upon that.

Snape made his way back to the kitchen while Harry showered. Dobby was just plating breakfast, his precarious stack of hats now topped with a red and green striped one that had a silver bell on top. The bell tinkled whenever the elf moved. Staring at this latest addition, Snape was struck by inspiration.

“Dobby, what is today’s date?” Snape inquired, just to be sure his calculations were correct.

“December 12th, sir.”


Breakfast had been a silent affair but, with a new plan in mind, Snape let Harry be. After the dishes were cleaned and put away, Snape spoke.

“We have some work to do today and we will do it the old-fashioned way.” As Harry stared blankly at him, Snape added, “Without magic.”

Harry shrugged, as if whatever Snape wanted him to do made no difference to him.

“Follow me,” Snape instructed, getting to his feet. He led the way to the back door and directed Harry to put on his shoes. It was not warm out, but Snape planned to remedy that soon enough. He had discovered something unusual a few days before and he was eager to test it out further.

Harry stepped through the door and immediately wrapped his arms around himself. It was December and the temperature was just above freezing—too cold to be outside without a heavy cloak, or a warming charm at the very least.

Snape offered Harry neither. Instead, he led the way to a shed at the back of the property, about fifty meters away. Once there, Snape threw open the doors and stepped inside, Harry following behind him. While the shed wasn’t any warmer than the outside air, it did block the icy wind.

“What are we doing out here, sir?” Harry asked, shivering as he looked around the empty shed.

“First,” Snape said, “we both need something warm to wear, as well as hats and work gloves.”

Snape smirked at the surprised look on Harry’s face as hooks promptly sprouted from the unassuming sides of the shed. Shortly thereafter, the requested items appeared.

“Cool,” Harry breathed, reaching for the dark green down jacket. He pulled it on quickly, followed by the knit hat and sturdy black leather gloves.

Meanwhile, Snape pulled on a fur-lined thick black cloak, a fur-trimmed hat, and an identical pair of leather gloves.

“Next,” Snape said, “we will need a saw, pruning shears, and some rope.”

Three more hooks grew out of the wall of the shed, offering up the requested wares.

 “A bucket to carry everything would not go amiss,” Snape added. Promptly, one appeared on the floor by their feet.

Snape was pleased to see the expression of bemused surprise on Harry’s face. It was a change from the grimaces and blank stares that had been there recently.

“Did you celebrate Christmas with the Muggles?” Snape asked.

“Well, they celebrated Christmas. I mostly stayed in my cupb–, er, room,” Harry said, looking away as he corrected himself.

Snape bit down on his tongue to avoid cursing the lot of them. Instead, he said, “Did they have a Christmas tree?”

“An artificial one,” Harry said.

Good, Snape thought. Perhaps this will work after all. “It isn’t Christmas without a real tree,” Snape declared. “And there is only one proper way to get a real tree—to cut it down yourself.”

“Sir?” Harry asked.

Snape pointed to a copse of fir trees in the distance. “If we are to have a Christmas tree, you will need to select one.”

Harry looked startled, as if Snape had asked him to select England’s next Minister of Magic. He glanced between Snape and the trees in distance.

“Are you serious?”

Snape nodded.

A calculating look appeared on Harry’s face. “Any one I want?”

Snape nodded again, amusement washing through him. “However, I should remind you of a few things. First, you will need to cut this tree down with only these tools,” Snape said, indicating the tools he had relocated to the bucket. “Second, you will need to drag this tree back to the house, without magic. Lastly, it needs to fit in the sitting room. Keep in mind that trees in the forest look much smaller in nature than they actually are.”

Harry nodded and set off toward the conifers, a determined cant to his stride.

Snape let out a breath of relief. This just might work after all.


A Christmas tree. Snape wanted him, Harry Potter, to pick out a Christmas tree. Harry couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t have believed Snape to be one to even celebrate the holidays and surely, if he did, he’d want to pick the tree himself—being as meticulous and perfectionistic as the professor was.

Yet, Snape was going to let him pick the tree. The small child inside him gave a whoop of joy. Before Hogwarts, he’d never been allowed to participate in Christmas. He remembered sneaking out of his cupboard at night, after the Dursleys had gone to sleep, to stare at the Christmas tree, with all of its beautiful glass ornaments and white icicle lights. Aunt Petunia had insisted on all-white decorations every year, which offset the deep green of the tree. It looked elegant enough, but what young Harry had always desired were the trees he’d see through neighbors’ windows, decorated with handmade ornaments and lit up with multicolored lights, casting brilliant rainbows well into the night. He wondered if Snape would let him decorate the tree as well.

It took them about ten minutes to make their way to the stand of conifers. The ground was crisp and frozen, but no snow graced the barren fields. The first trees they came across were much larger than they appeared at a distance. From the base of one tall tree, Harry found himself gazing up nearly one hundred feet.


“Don’t even think about it,” Snape said to prevent the boy from getting any ideas. They were not going to shrink a seventy-five-foot pine and put it in the sitting room.

Harry snorted and moved deeper into the forest. “What kind of trees are these, anyway?”

“Their scientific name is abies procera, but they are better known as the Noble Fir, or simply, the Christmas tree,” Snape replied.

Harry removed his glove and ran his fingers along the blue-green needles that were tipped with silver. The needles clustered on the braches tilted upward, as if to meet the boy’s touch.

“The needles are so soft,” Harry said, dragging bunches of them through his fingers. “They aren’t sharp or prickly like I thought they would be.”

Snape reached out and fingered one of the large purplish seed cones that pointed skyward near the top of the tree. “If you strip back the scales on these seed cones, you’ll find a plethora of red-brown seeds. Powdered and dried, they yield one of the essential ingredients of Veritaserum. The prepared seeds purify the potion and turn it clear and tasteless when heated.”

“Oh,” Harry said, running his fingers along the spiky bracts on the cone. “Does it have to be Noble fir pinecones? Or will any pine tree work?”

Pine tree is a general term erroneously used to group together and describe a variety of coniferous trees in the pineacea family. Nonetheless, to answer your question, some tree species work better than others. The Noble fir provides a mid-grade quality seed for brewing Veritaserum.”

“What type provides the best seeds?” Harry asked as he walked amongst the trees, scanning them as he went. He hesitated many times, comparing one to another, touching them, smelling them, running his fingers over the symmetrical branches and stoking the grayish-brown bark. Snape didn’t begrudge him the time he was taking to make his choice. He was sure that Harry had never been allowed the privilege before and, after all, they had nothing better to do.

“The highest strength and quality Veritaserum is brewed from the seeds of pinus squamata, a rare species found only in a single province in southwestern China.”

“How do you know so much?” Harry asked.

“I read, Potter,” Snape said, and cringed inwardly when he spoke the boy’s surname aloud, something Harry had asked him not to do. But, to his relief, Harry wasn’t paying attention to him.

“This one,” Harry said suddenly, standing proudly beside a modest fir that had a bend in the trunk, making it lurch drunkenly to one side.

“Why that one?” Snape asked, tilting his head to try and correct for the tree’s odd angle. Other than the tilt, and the scraggly bits near the top, the tree looked relatively well filled out and balanced.

“It’s about the right height and it’s got a nest hidden inside, just there,” Harry said, pointing.

Sure enough, there was a small bird’s nest nestled into the braches near the curve of the trunk, a few white and grey downy feathers left behind.

“And it just feels right,” Harry added. Then he bowed his head, as if Snape would mock him for making such a statement.

“Far be it for me to question your selection,” Snape said. He reached into the bucket, pulled out the bow saw, and handed it to Harry. Then he stepped back and crossed his arms, watching as Harry tried to figure out exactly what to do with it.

“Saw near the bottom, a couple inches above the ground,” Snape directed.

By this time, Harry had given up trying to kneel on the ground beside the tree, and had flopped onto his back, scuttling under the lower branches to get a better cutting angle.

“You can saw off some of the lower branches to make more room,” Snape suggested. “That will need to be done at some point anyway to fit the tree into the tree stand.”

“Now you tell me,” Harry mumbled, backing out from under the low hanging branches to prune some of them from above. With that done, he got back to work sawing at the trunk.

Snape watched Harry with amusement as Harry struggled with the tree, sweat beading his face, his glasses fogged.

“This is harder than it looks,” Harry commented.

Snape chuckled. “A little manual labor never hurt anyone,” he replied.

Harry grunted. 

Soon, Harry was over half way through the trunk, well on his way to cutting down his very first Christmas tree.

Snape stepped over to stand opposite Harry. He reached out a hand, holding the trunk to steady it. When the saw finally made its way completely through, Snape pulled the tree toward him and away from Harry, laying it down gently on the ground.


“Now what?” Harry said, panting as he removed his sap-covered gloves and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Then he took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt to remove the condensation that had fogged the lenses.

“Now you tie the rope around the trunk, just above the bottom branches, and drag it back to the house,” Snape said.

“Why not just levitate it?” Harry asked.

“Have you ever seen Hagrid levitate a fir tree into the Great Hall?”

Harry thought about it and realized that, while he’d seen Flitwick levitate ornaments onto the trees in the Great Hall, he’d only ever seen Hagrid dragging the tall Christmas pines behind him. “No, I guess I haven’t.”

Snape cocked an eyebrow and gestured toward the tree.

Sighing, Harry tied the rope around the trunk and began dragging it toward the house. It took about twenty minutes, by which time Harry was sweating freely and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were bright red.

“I’ll take it from here,” Snape said when they reached the door. “Why don’t you go back to the shed and request a tree stand.”

As Harry loped off on his new mission, Snape smirked and levitated the tree over the threshold and into the house, leaning it up against the wall to wait for Harry’s return.


Harry came back with a red and green metal contraption that had long angled legs stretching outward from an oddly shaped bowl in the middle with screws sticking out. “Is this right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Snape replied. “Where would you like to put the tree?”

Harry glanced between the tree leaning against the wall beside the front door and the sitting room. “In front of the picture window,” he declared.

Nodding, Snape used his wand to rearrange the furniture, leaving an opening for the tree. Then he summoned a bathroom towel and transformed it into a sturdy, square rug.

“Set the tree stand in the center,” Snape directed, and Harry did so. “In order to put the tree into the stand, I will need to hold near the top of the trunk and you will need to hold near the bottom.”

Together, they carried the tree across the room, settling it into the stand.

Holding it upright, Snape said, “Go back by the front door and tell me if it looks straight.”

Harry did so, and then cocked his head like Snape had done earlier. “Er, the tree’s a bit bent, sir,” he said.

“Are you telling me you did not notice that you had selected a tree with a bent trunk when we were in the woods?” Snape asked.

“Well, I didn’t think it would matter. I mean, we could straighten it out with magic,” Harry said in his own defense.

“No magic,” Snape reiterated.

“But Christmas started as a Pagan holiday,” Harry protested.

Ignoring this, Snape twisted and turned the tree, angling it in different ways. “Tell me when to stop,” he said.

“There,” Harry said. “Just twist it a bit more to the left. Yes, like that,” Harry instructed, walking back and forth along the back wall trying to see what looked the best. “Wait, back to the right a little. Now forward. A little more. Not that much! Back just a smidge. There, that’s perfect.” Harry said.

“Very well,” Snape said. “Now crawl under the tree and tighten the screws while I hold it steady. Be sure to tighten all of the sides equally. If you do one side more than the other, it will lean to one side,” Snape said. And then, he added, “More than it already does, I mean.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Harry said, and then froze. “I… I didn’t mean…”

Snape waved his hand dismissively. “I know, Harry.”

Still looking uncertain, Harry slid under the tree to tighten the long screws. After a few minutes, he commented, “This takes forever!”

Snape smirked. “It’s good experience.”

Harry snorted. “Are you going to let me use magic on the tree at all?”

“Not directly,” Snape responded.

“Why not?”

“Manual labor tends to make one appreciate things more. Plus, you need the exercise.”

Harry grunted. After a few more minutes, he said, “I’m done.”

“Accio screwdriver,” Snape said, his hand open, palm up. A drawer in the kitchen opened and a moment later, he was holding a long screwdriver. He handed it to Harry. “Slide the shaft through the metal eye hooks and use it for leverage to drive the screws into the trunk.”

After a few more minutes, Harry slid out from under the tree to stand beside Snape.

“Ugh, I am full of sap,” Harry said, looking down at his coat and gloves. His hat lay under the tree amidst the fallen needles.

“Ready?” Snape asked. At Harry’s nod, Snape let go of the trunk. The tree slid in the base, listing to one side.

“It looks like you need to tighten the screws more on the far side,” Snape said, grabbing the trunk and pulling it back upright.

“No wonder the Dursleys had an artificial tree,” Harry grumbled as he crawled back beneath the branches.

Snape smiled. This was more fun than he imagined. He’d never been allowed to use magic around his Muggle father and, as he had been younger and fitter, it had been his job to do the manual labor. He found being the supervising adult rather enjoyable.

“Better?” Harry asked, still lying on the ground beneath the tree.

Snape loosened his grip on the trunk and felt the play of the trunk in the base. “A little more,” Snape instructed.

It took another ten minutes, but finally the tree was standing, as tall and proud as a crooked tree could.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Harry hedged, standing beside Snape. At Snape’s sardonic look, Harry said, “Hey, it was my first time picking out a tree. Next time I’ll be sure I get a straight one.”

“It will do just fine,” Snape said with a smile. “It has… character.”

Harry snorted. “It does look a lot bigger in the sitting room than it did in the woods. When can we decorate it?”

“It has to settle for twenty-four hours first. In the meantime, it will need to be watered several times a day over the first couple of days. After that, once a day will be sufficient.”

“All right. Anything else I need to know?” Harry inquired.

“Not at the moment. Go and shower. I will water the tree and prepare dinner.”

Nodding, Harry hurried up the stairs. Snape felt oddly satisfied that he had found something that could lift the teen’s spirits.


Assuming the boy had worked up an appetite from the afternoon’s labors, Snape grilled up four chicken breasts, putting two on Harry’s plate over a heaping pile of steaming rice and one on his own plate. Then he added a serving of steamed vegetables on the side. He was just pouring them each a tall glass of water when he heard Harry on the stairs.

“Wow, the pine smell is really strong,” Harry said from the corridor. “I like it.”

Snape finished setting the table and took his seat as Harry walked into the kitchen, his face flushed and his eyes bright. It was nice to see the boy looking so healthy and alive. It was such a sharp contrast from just that morning when Harry had looked like death warmed over. A bit of fresh air and something to look forward to tended to work wonders.

“What’s for dinn…” Harry began, his gaze settling on his dinner plate.

Snape watched as Harry’s eyes grew wide and all the color drained from his face.

“No…” Harry whimpered, his body starting to tremble. He reached out, grabbing the doorframe for support.

“Harry?” Snape called. He was on his feet and moving toward the teen before he even realized he’d left his chair.

 “No, no, no, no, no,” Harry whinged, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Harry?” Snape asked again, touching his shoulder lightly.

Harry yelped and jerked away. In the next moment, Harry had turned on his heel and fled.


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