“Liquorice wands,” Harry mumbled, wondering whether the password supplied to him by his head of house was some sort of joke.

But sure enough the Gargoyle began to move, revealing a stairway up towards Professor Dumbledore’s office.

The old man was sitting at a large desk when Harry entered, dictating a letter to the enchanted quill that hung in the air beside him, scribbling away on an expensive-looking piece of parchment.

He stopped when he saw the small boy appear.

 “Harry, my boy. How nice it is to see you,” he smiled.

 “’Lo Professor,” Harry greeted him, stopping in the doorway.

 “Come in, come in,” Dumbledore urged him, gesturing to a chair opposite him.

Harry sat in it, blissfully unaware of the fact its size made him appear even smaller than he truly was.

 “Tell me, Harry, how have you enjoyed your first term at Hogwarts?” he asked.

 “It’s been brilliant, sir. Really brilliant,” Harry smiled.

 “Good to hear. What has been your favourite part?” he asked, offering him a Sherbet Lemon from a small china dish.

 “Thank you sir,” he obliged, unwrapping the sweet and popping it into his mouth. “My favourite part…?”

Spending time with an adult who doesn’t think I’m a freakish waste of space.

 “…Well, it’s all been great, but I’ve loved playing Quidditch most of all,” he chose.

 “Ah, thoroughly enjoyable for all, I agree. Though it has been many years since I was last aboard a broom,” Dumbledore told him. “Still, I am sure you didn’t come here to discuss the finer points of the game.”

 “No, sir. Actually… I came to ask for your permission…” Harry began. “You see, I wasn’t able to go on the Hogsmeade trip yesterday. My aunt wouldn’t sign the permission slip. She’s a bit… wary about anything to do with school. Anyway, I wanted a chance to buy some Christmas presents, for my friends. And so I was wondering…”

 “If I would permit a trip to Hogsmeade?” the headmaster guessed.

But Harry shook his head. “I think Hogsmeade will be a bit cold, sir. The floor will be sludge and it’ll be too packed with people to be very enjoyable… So I was actually wondering if you’d give me permission to go to Diagon Alley. Not on my own of course, I know that wouldn’t be allowed. But maybe if one of the teachers went with me? Perhaps…”

 “Professor Snape?” Dumbledore suggested.

Harry’s eyebrows disappeared beneath a curtain of dark hair, and the elderly wizard chuckled.

 “How did you know what I was going to say?” the boy asked. “Did you speak to him about it already?”

 “I can assure you, Harry, that I have neither seen nor heard from Severus since the weekend began,” Dumbledore told him. “Your choice of words was merely… illuminating.”

Harry simply sat there, gaping at him then, until the headmaster spoke again.

 “Might I ask Harry, if you would be kind enough to indulge an old man for a moment – why Professor Snape?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders. “I just like him.”

This earned more laughter from the older wizard, and Harry gave him a curious glance.

 “Forgive me Harry. It is just that I have worked with your professor for a number of years now, and I cannot say that I have ever had a student tell me they ‘like’ him before.”

 “I know he’s stern and all. And he can be pretty scary in class. But… he’s been kind to me since I got  here, sir. He’s helped me with my assignments, and he taught me how to write with a quill properly. And he helped me when I lost control of my broom during the Quidditch match.”

And he gives the best hugs, and doesn’t push me away, even when I’m acting like a stupid baby.

Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile. “Very well, Harry. Then I shall confirm that I am more than happy for you venture to Diagon Alley with our potions master. However, do try not to run him too ragged. A great many people rely on him, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to smile now, as he stood up from his seat. “Thank you, sir.”

He reached the doorway before he turned to look at the headmaster again.

 “Sir? What do you think… I mean, it probably wouldn’t be anything great, and it’ll be hard, what with him being there with me and all but… well… what sort of Christmas gift do you think Professor Snape might like?”

Dumbledore regarded him for a moment, a twinkle in his eye.

 “I am certain Harry, that Professor Snape will like most any gift you give him, just so long as it comes from here,” he said, placing a hand over his heart.

Harry nodded, gratefully.  “Thanks again, Professor Dumbledore.”

 “You are most welcome, Harry. Most welcome…” the headmaster muttered, more to himself than the boy, who had already gone from the room.

With that, he turned back to the quill, which was still poised in the air in anticipation.

 “…Furthermore, it has come to my attention since beginning to write this letter…”

OOOOOOO

Severus Snape strode towards The Leaky Cauldron the Potter whelp trotting several paces behind him.

He hated shopping, particularly at this time of year, shops jam-packed full of dunderheaded parents and children giddy with Christmas cheer.

By this point, he was convinced that they had visited every shop in Diagon Alley at least three times, and the brat was taking this present-buying business far too seriously for his liking.

He had intended to floo them straight back to Hogwarts as soon as the expedition had ended, but it had taken a lot longer than he had imagined, and he was certain that he had heard the boy’s stomach grumbling as they’d traipsed around Quality Quidditch Supplies. The last thing he needed was the child fainting on him. No, best to feed him now to avoid disaster.

The Leaky Cauldron was, for once, relatively empty, and the potions master quickly found them a table in the corner, pushing a menu across in the boy’s direction.

 “Thanks for bringing me, sir. I reckon my friends will love these gifts,” Harry said, stowing the paper bag beneath his chair. It had taken him a while to find the perfect items, but he was pretty sure he had: a rare hardback copy of ‘A History of House Elves’ for Hermione, a brand new back of collectible Quidditch playing cards for Ron, and even a dragon’s tooth pendant for Hagrid, since the caretaker had always wanted a dragon. 

 “Hmm, if their appreciation is measured against the time taken to select said gifts, I have no doubt they will,” Snape said, flatly.

Harry smiled, taking off his gloves and scarf.

 “Contrary to popular belief, Mr Potter, we do not have all day to spend here. So I would advise you to review the menu and make a decision on what you would like for lunch,” Snape told him, noticing that the boy had not so much as picked up the menu that had been handed to him.

Harry frowned in apparent confusion.

 “Me, sir?”

Snape arched a brow. “I do not see any other troublesome miscreants around here.”

 “Sorry, sir. I just… thought… maybe you were hungry, or… you know…” Harry began.

 “Did you imagine, Potter, that I had simply brought you here so that you could watch me eat?” he asked, unimpressed.

The boy watched him for a moment, green eyes full of… what? Surprise? Uncertainty?

Yes, that was exactly what the boy had imagined, Severus realised.

 “That is… not so,” he confirmed, his tone gentler. “Now, presuming you have not lost the ability to read…”

Smiling almost shyly, Harry picked up the menu and began to browse.

And Severus Snape waited.

And waited.

And waited.

In fact, it seemed that shopping for gifts was not the only thing that took the boy an age.

 “Perhaps I should seek out the breakfast menu, Potter? After all, it may well be morning before you make a decision,” he said, sarcastically.

 “Sorry sir. It’s just… there are a lot of choices and I’ve never…”

The boy was overwhelmed, Severus recognised. Clearly, his muggle relatives had never taken him anywhere or lavished him with anything so luxurious as a pub lunch, and the child did not know what to do for the best.

Catching the eye of a nearby waitress, he gestured her over.

 “Afternoon, gentlemen. What can I get you?” she asked, giving Harry a friendly smile.

 “A pot of coffee for me, please. And unfortunately it would seem that your excellent menu has left young Mr Potter here spoilt for choice. Is there anything you can recommend?” he asked, ignoring the grateful look the child cast his way.

 “Well, rumour has it the chef’s special steak and kidney pie is something special,” she said kindly.

Harry gave her a small smile. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

 “No problem. And something to drink? Some hot chocolate, perhaps?” she suggested.

Harry glanced up at his professor, as if wondering whether a drink was pushing it.

The potions master simply nodded.

 “Coming right up,” the waitress smiled, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchens.

 “So, Potter, what are your plans for the Christmas break?” Snape asked, once they were alone again.

 “Not much, sir.”

 “Are you returning to your relative’s home?” he probed.

Harry shook his head. “No, sir. They’re taking Dudley to Lapland this year, and I didn’t much want to go.”

Snape inclined his head, concluding that this likely translated into ‘I wasn’t invited or wanted on the trip.’

 “I see. Well, I’m sure that you’ll find Christmas at Hogwarts just as enjoyable, if not more so.”

 “I think I will. How about you sir? Do you have plans?” the boy enquired.

The potions master resisted the urge to snort. Him? Christmas plans?

 “Not likely. I, too, will remain at the castle.”

Just then, Harry gasped, his mouth dropping open.

 “What is it, Potter? Are you hoping to catch a fly in there?” Snape asked, unimpressed.

 “Sir, I forgot!” he exclaimed.

 “Forgot what, Potter?”

 “About the book, in Flourish and Blotts. The chess book you owled them about,” Harry elaborated.

 “Calm down, Potter. You must truly be an idiot if you thought I had any plans to owl them regarding a book entitled ‘An Idiot’s Guide to Wizard Chess.’ There is no such book. However,” he began, against his better nature. “I daresay there is some kind of text on the topic, if you wish to revisit the shop following lunch.”

Harry thought about it for a moment before shaking his head.

 “No thank you. That’s okay, sir. I don’t think a book would be the best way for me to learn, anyway.”

 “Is that so? And how, pray, do you plan to improve your game?” Snape asked.

 “Well… I was thinking… It seemed like you really knew what to do, in the library the other day… So maybe, if you have time… perhaps… you could, you know… teach me how?” Harry suggested, hopefully.

Severus Snape silently cursed. Just when it had seemed like he may get a couple of weeks of solitude, there was this brat again, with more demands for mundane tasks that he simply had no desire to take on.

All the same, as Harry tucked into his steak and kidney pie, the potions master drew the outline of a chess board on the back of the menu, and began to teach.

OOOOOOO