Chapter 7 – Step on their Toes

Severus cast a Silencing Charm on his room the second he dumped his gifts on his bed, then began cussing loudly.

He’d only been trying to help Alfred and his family. He knew they didn’t have a high income, and expenses would pile up with four children. With room and board paid for by the school, his teacher’s salary piled up in his vault. Despite spending little time in the muggle world, he still kept a muggle account where he asked the goblins to transfer ten per cent of his salary annually. This was the account he used to send money for the children’s birthdays and any other muggle requirements he had.

As he didn’t use it very often, and the goblins looked after his savings on his behalf, even in the muggle world, Severus had a tidy amount accrued in both worlds. He supplemented his salary by selling potions – most of that money went to travelling for more potion ingredients, accruing more books and general maintenance for his potion-making passion.

He had no children of his own and never planned for them. He had Draco as his godson and couldn’t stand any other brats. He tolerated his cousin’s children because they were family, so he planned to leave his muggle wealth to them upon his death. However, considering he was a wizard, he expected to live a long time, so perhaps the next generation would benefit from his wealth instead of the current one.

Suffice to say, he could comfortably pay for Sarah’s tuition fees and not feel any financial strain. She was a sensible child and would go far in her life with her attitude towards work. She was ambitious and clever, and Severus had no compunction supporting her academic endeavours.

Brian planned to be a Veterinarian like his father, and Severus also planned to donate the same amount to the boy if he wished to continue down that career path. However, given Alfred’s reaction to his generous offer, he suspected Jacqueline would be just as stubborn in accepting the money.

Nana Bea never said a word for or against, listening silently to both sides arguing. However, in the end, she suggested they ask Sarah her opinion. He only hoped Sarah was practical enough to talk some sense into her parents and accept the money.

He didn’t know what chip on his shoulder Alfred had about accepting the money, but Severus felt hurt to have his motivations questioned. It only reinforced the feeling that they tolerated him for Nana’s sake, and should she pass away before next Christmas, he doubted he would be invited back.

He was beginning to realise he didn’t want that.

ooOoo

The snow wasn’t thick, but there was enough that the children could make snow angels. They all bundled up and stepped into the garden. Andrew and Brian collected snow and dumped it in the middle of the garden so they could begin making a snowman.

Harry, as promised, held the focus pads for Maya to practice on. He quickly learned to brace himself by planting his feet and squatting slightly for fear of falling over. Despite not starting lessons, Maya seemed decent at throwing punches and thoroughly enjoyed herself but seemed oddly protective of hurting Harry.

“Do you want a turn?” she asked as Harry shook out the strain of holding the pads in the same position.

“Nah, it’s all right,” Harry said. “You keep practising.”

He was never interested in punching people or martial arts.

Maya gave him a faint smile, though for some reason looked anxious, and continued to practise, gaining more and more confidence. They tried kicks next, but that was more problematic as it was getting slippery in the snow and Maya was less practised with her kicks than her punches.

Still, they were both pleased. After a while, they went to help the twins gather more snow. Lexi, bundled up in a thick coat, hat and mittens, helped by slapping handfuls of snow onto the bottom half of the snowball Andrew and Brian created for the snowman.

It began snowing quite heavily again, and quite suddenly, forcing everyone back inside. Andrew and Brian carefully carried Lexi between them, as Harry and the girls held onto each other tightly as they headed back to the house.

“Oh, you’re coming back in already?” Barry asked, dressed in his warmest coat, hat and gloves, looking ready to join them for frolicking in the snow. “I was about to come out and join you.”

“It’s snowing too heavy right now,” Brian said regretfully, lowering Lexi to the ground and brushing the snow from her coat. “Maybe later, when it’s calmer. We can finish the snowman.”

“And have a snowball fight,” Beth piped up, shaking the coat before hanging it up. “I’m on Harry’s team.”

“My darling Maya will be on my team, right?” Barry winked.

“No, I’m on Harry’s team,” Maya said.

Barry gave a comical look of dismay.

“Betrayed,” he said, clutching his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Maya rolled her eyes.

“We’ll be on your team, Dad,” Andrew said brightly.

“It’s not the same,” Barry shook his head.

“Harry bought her boxing stuff,” Brian said frankly. “We’re all dirt beneath her shoes now.”

Instead of joking back as she usually would, Maya looked uncomfortable again.

“Are you all right, love?” Barry asked in concern.

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly. “Where’s Mum? In the kitchen?”

“Yes,” he answered, giving his daughter the same concerned look.

“Come on, Harry,” Andrew said, hanging up his coat and pulling off his wellies. “Let’s go help in the kitchen. I can’t wait to get Christmas dinner started.”

“Really getting into the cooking thing, aren’t you?” Barry raised a brow at his son’s enthusiasm.

“I need to go speak to Mum,” Maya said, running off and leaving everyone confused.

“Okay,” Barry said slowly.

“Can we bring Marley inside? He’s cold,” Lexi begged her uncle.

“Perhaps after dinner, baby,” Barry promised his niece.

“But it’s snowing,” she insisted.

“Ask your dad,” Barry smiled sympathetically.

She nodded dejectedly, perhaps already knowing the answer, and refused to take off her coat, bounding away to find her father nonetheless.

Harry hung up his coat, though, given its thinness, it felt like it was no protection against the cold. He’d had the focus pads to keep his hands warm when helping Maya practise; however, his hands were freezing from handling the snow.

“Is that your coat, Harry?” Barry asked as he watched Harry hang it up. “You must have been freezing. Didn’t you bring something warmer? And what about your gloves?”

“I picked up the wrong one,” Harry lied, ducking his head. “And left my gloves in there.”

“Well, Alfred will have a spare,” Barry said. “It’ll be big on you, but it’ll be better than that. And I’m sure we’ve got spare gloves lying about.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered, slipping his feet into the house slippers. “I’ll ask later.”

“Can we go into the kitchen now?” Andrew asked, somewhat impatient.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Harry said, blowing warmth into his red hands and rubbing them together.

Andrew was practically bouncing in excitement as he headed into the kitchen, with Harry trailing behind.

“But Mum, I really need to speak to you. Please?” Maya was pleading.

Looking confused and concerned, Jacky said, “Maya, darling, we’re about to start Christmas dinner. Can it wait a little longer?”

Seeing Harry and Andrew enter, Maya gave them a helpless, unhappy look and nodded miserably.

“Can I stay?”

“Of course,” Gloria said.

“You can even help if you want,” Jacky teased.

“I’ll help,” Maya said, still looking unhappy.

“What do we start with, Harry?” Andrew asked enthusiastically.

“Er,” Harry stuttered, wondering why the older boy was looking at him rather than his mother and aunt.

“Really, now,” Gloria said, taking a bit of pressure off Harry, “you’re acting like your mother and I are completely useless in the kitchen. Not that I’m saying you’re not a good cook, Harry. Your food is wonderful.”

Harry didn’t know what to do with that assurance.

“Thanks?” he said, confused.

“Your turkey is always dry, and the vegetables are either burnt or still crunchy,” Andrew said bluntly.

“Or both,” Maya piped up, coming out of her funk. “Or mushy and horrible.”

“You can cook turkey, right, Harry?” Andrew demanded.

“You can’t expect Harry to cook for us,” Jacky added sharply. “He’s here as our guest.”

“No, he’s not,” Andrew denied. He soldiered on before his mother could admonish him. “He’s here as family. And I thought you wanted us to do more family things together. Cooking just happens to be his greatest strength, and I’d rather learn from Harry than from you.”

“To be fair, he would learn more from Harry than from you,” Gloria quipped.

Jacky rolled her eyes, not the least bit offended. She turned to Harry, stepping closer, and placed a hand on his shoulder, missing seeing her daughter flinch at the action. Gloria has seen it, though and gave her niece a bemused frown.

“Harry,” Jacky began gently, “I’m not denying that you’re a better cook than me because you absolutely are. However, it’s not your responsibility to feed everyone Christmas dinner. It’s a huge task. We’re a big enough family that we buy two medium turkeys, plus all the trimmings that go with that. It might not be the best Christmas dinner you’ll eat (she ignored Andrew’s snort), but I promise you’ll get fed.”

Then giving her son a quelling glare, she added, “Don’t feel pressured to help because of my idiot son. Andrew can learn to cook tomorrow. Anyway, it’ll be best for Andrew to start small.”

Andrew looked deflated, a look he’d not seen on the otherwise confident older boy.

“I don’t mind helping,” Harry told her earnestly. And truly, he didn’t. It wasn’t often that anyone looked at Harry like they actually wanted to learn something from him. And though he wasn’t arrogant like Snape thought he was, he knew he could cook well. If he could please the Dursleys’ impossible standards, then anything he made subpar would still be good for Snape’s family. Snape might find something to criticise, but just like with the Dursleys, Harry gave up getting Snape’s approval after his first Potions lesson when Snape blamed Harry for Neville’s cauldron exploding.

Andrew beamed at him.

“Thanks, Harry,” Andrew said as if Harry had agreed to give him a million pounds rather than help with Christmas dinner. Then looking at his mother, he asked, “Where do we start?”

“We’ve already turned the oven on,” Jacky told him, “so it’s ready for the turkey. Now we’re going to prep the turkey. How do your family prepare the turkey, Harry?”

“Oh, er,” Harry looked at the counter. “We usually add butter between the skin and stuff with onion and lemons.”

“Yes, that. Let’s do that,” Andrew said enthusiastically. He pulled Harry towards the counter and waited for instructions. “What first?”

“I need to wash my hands,” Harry said and headed for the sink.

Andrew copied him without complaint.

“Come on, Harry,” Andrew said impatiently as he dried his hands. “Tell me what to do?”

Harry looked at Jacky and Gloria, who both gave him an amused smile and gestured for him to continue.

“Would you like a pinny, Harry?” Gloria said with a laugh, picking one up from the hook on the back of the kitchen door.

Harry took the flowery apron, cleared his throat and slowly began to show Andrew what he knew, becoming more relaxed at the older boy’s energy and fervour.

ooOoo

Jacky had seen Harry cook several times over the last few days and had been impressed by his quiet competence in the kitchen. She’d been genuinely amazed at how comfortable Harry was at cooking and how he cleaned up after himself.

None of her children ever did that, or Jacky, for that matter. Nor Alfred’s, though Sarah and Laurel were the most organised of the bunch. Heck, even Gloria wasn’t so focused when it came to cleaning, and she was a nurse who always implored for a hygienic environment. Harry was practically obsessive when it came to cleaning. And terribly efficient when he cooked.

For example, watching him now, he had concentrated on preparing everything for the turkeys they would be cooking. He had Andrew cut several onions and lemons in half while Harry prepared the butter, chopping up parsley, zesting and juicing lemons, with several cloves of garlic for flavour. He fearlessly seasoned the inside of the cavities and then stuffed the turkey cavities with onions and lemons. Watching Harry stuff the flavoured butter between the turkey skin with nary a look of disgust was just as impressive. Despite his enthusiasm, even Andrew baulked at touching the turkey carcass until he saw how calm Harry was. Not wanting to show himself as weaker than the younger boy, Andrew tried to deal with the turkey as steadily as Harry.

It took Gloria to point out to Jacky that Harry had somehow taken over the whole responsibility of cooking Christmas dinner.

“Should we say something?” Jacky asked, feeling a little overwhelmed at Harry’s precision when it came to cooking.

Gloria looked just as uncertain and more than a little impressed.

“He’s surprisingly patient given who his father is,” Jacky added.

“To be fair,” Gloria said, lowering her voice even more, “we don’t know what Severus is like as a teacher.”

“Harry said Severus was bad at communicating what he knows,” Jacky informed her sister-in-law. “And also, I meant as a person, not as a teacher.”

Gloria gave a half-sheepish look that had Jacky giggling. Even Gloria, who’d not known Severus as long as Jacky and Alfred had, did not have a high opinion of Severus. The man deigned to visit them once a year at Christmas as if he was doing them a favour, spent more time with Nana, which they never begrudged, but treated the rest of them like they were morons. Severus always looked down on them as if they were inferior in some way. Like just because he had a degree in Chemistry that he was somehow better than them.

Jacky might not have gone to university and earned a degree, but Alfred and Barry worked their arses off learning to be Veterinarians. With a highly successful practice, to boot. And Gloria had almost killed herself while studying for her Nurses exams. It felt like none of that mattered to Severus. Like no one apart from Nana mattered.

“He’s an expert with a turkey,” Gloria whispered, not paying attention to the carrots she and Jacky were supposed to be peeling. “Look at that – he’s stuffed the butter under the skin without wasting any of it.”

Conversely, working with the second turkey, Andrew had butter smeared on his arms, face, apron and jumper, even though his sleeves were rolled up. Not once during this whole process did Harry get impatient or annoyed at his older cousin.

“It’s okay,” Harry said placatingly, “You want to have butter on top as well.”

Harry’s turkey was a work of art. So was Andrew’s, but her son’s turkey looked more like the paintings she kept from his childhood – of Andrew’s earlier attempts at finger painting. Harry fixed the second turkey as best he could.

Then, to their surprise, Harry placed both turkeys on a bed of carrots he took from the pile that Jacky and Gloria had yet to peel, though they were washed. He had added celery, onions and finally, the giblets, which Jacky never knew what to do with.

“What’s that for?” Jacky asked curiously.

“The gravy,” Harry said, looking at them uncertainly. “Is that not how you make it?”

“We usually stick with Bisto,” Gloria said, pressing her lips together to fight her amusement.

“Oh, I can take it out if you prefer Bisto,” Harry said, reaching for the roasting pans.

“Well, we’re not going to say no to fresh gravy,” Jacky said. “Nana used to make it, but it’s been years since she’s been able to spend so much time on her feet.”

Then, remembering their wheelchair ruse, she quickly tacked on, “Even before, she was in a wheelchair. Old age, you know.”

Jacky would have rambled on if Gloria hadn’t nudged her to keep her trap shut. The two adults found themselves listening to the thirteen-year-old carefully as he explained how to calculate how long a turkey needed to be in the oven.

“It’s roughly thirty minutes per kilo,” Harry said.

“How’s it going here?” Alfred asked as he entered the kitchen, then stopped and sniffed the air. The cooking hadn’t begun, but the scent of lemons and garlic was in the air.

“It’s going well,” Gloria answered, turning to her husband. “Where’s Sarah?”

“In her room, thinking about stuff,” Alfred answered evenly. “She’ll be down to help.”

“We’ve only just put the turkeys in the oven,” Jacky told him. “There’s still all the trimmings to do.”

“Are you doing mash potatoes?” Alfred asked, coming further in.

“You’ll have to ask the bosses,” Gloria said, holding up her hands in surrender, conceding the kitchen to the teens.

Andrew looked to Harry for guidance, who nodded absently, setting a timer for the oven.

“We can make mash,” Andrew relayed back.

Belatedly realising Alfred was dressed to go out, sans shoes, Jacky asked, “Going back out to make a snowman?”

“No,” Alfred said, picking out a raw carrot to chomp on, “Sam Baker called – he said his brother missed his train to Glasgow yesterday and asked if we minded if he joined us for Christmas dinner today.”

“Oh, that Iain,” Gloria sighed. “I bet he missed the train on purpose. Sam even offered to drive down, but Iain’s a stubborn old fool. Really, Sam should have called us yesterday when his brother missed the train. We could have brought Iain over last night, and he wouldn’t have woken up alone on Christmas morning. Or we could have fetched him first thing. But of course, he’s welcome here. Even if he ends up criticising everything.”

Jacky laughed, “He’ll start before even he even leaves the house.”

“Good thing there’s a few hours before the food’s ready, then,” Alfred said brightly. “Plenty of time to listen to Iain’s nitpicking.”

“Are you going alone?” Gloria asked.

“No, Beth said she wanted to go with me,” Alfred shrugged.

“All right,” Gloria nodded. “Where are the others?”

“Severus is sulking in his room,” Alfred shrugged. “Barry and Nana are watching Christmas films on the telly with the girls. Brian’s helping Lexi and Laurel sneak Marley into the house, and I’m here pretending I don’t know.”

Gloria nodded.

“Will you call Sarah down before you leave? She said she wanted to learn how to make cranberry sauce,” Jacky requested.

“Wish you could cook other food as well as you make cranberry sauce,” Alfred muttered.

Andrew snorted from beside Harry.

“Jams and sauces are Mum’s speciality,” Andrew explained, even though Harry had heard this before. “Every year, we have to drown dry turkey in apple or cranberry sauce. And do you know how long it takes to finish all that dry turkey?”

“Oh, is that what the apples were for?” Harry said anxiously, turning around, ignoring Andrew’s complaints of dry turkey. “I used them for the apple crumbles the other day.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Jacky assured the young lad. “I made the apple sauces before you arrived. Those apples were left over.”

“And she’s hidden the jars so no one can finish them before Christmas Day,” Alfred added dryly.

“Can you make cranberry sauce, Harry?” Gloria asked.

Harry shrugged, but Jacky realised the boy was just being modest. She was beginning to see there was very little the boy didn’t know when it came to cooking. At least he was passionate when it came to cooking and able to pass that on to Andrew. She’d never seen Andrew so animated about anything other than football before.

“You better leave now, or Iain will keep you there for ages, and you’ll miss Harry and Andrew’s glorious Christmas Dinner,” Gloria ordered, practically pushing her husband out the door. She kissed him on the lips and reminded him, “Don’t forget to tell Sarah to come down.”

“Yes, dear,” her brother mocked. “Want to come with me, Maya?”

Maya, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, shook her head, and looked back at Harry with an unusual intensity.

Alfred sighed fondly and walked out of the kitchen, with Jacky and Gloria following behind. They stopped outside the den.

“Yet another one to fall for Harry’s charms,” Alfred muttered to his wife and sister under his breath.

“Feeling jealous?” Jacky needled.

“No,” Alfred shook his head. “He’s a good lad. Plus, he’s family.”

“Is he, though?” Jacky said with an undertone, unaware Andrew had them followed out.

Alfred gave her a sharp look upon hearing her.

“You’re still suspicious?” her brother asked.

Jacky took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Sometimes. Severus spent so long fobbing us off that we all suspected he was having us on. Plus, he doesn’t act like Harry’s dad.”

Gloria, who hadn’t spent as much time with Harry and Severus until recently, tried to play mediator.

“Look at this logically; Severus said Claudia was strict about custody, so obviously Severus and Harry won’t have a good relationship. They’ve not spent that much time together. And Severus gave the kids the same amount of Christmas money he gives every year; even Harry got the same. If we leave out the fact that he’s given Sarah a little extra”(Jacky snorted, a thousand pounds was definitely extra), “he’s still done his duty. Harry’s the one who picked out everyone else’s presents. He got everyone exactly what they’d like. With his own money. It was incredibly generous of him to do that. If he wasn’t Severus’s son, why would he do that?”

Jacky sighed again. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. No boy in his right mind would spend what Harry spent on our presents if he didn’t have to. Harry is Severus’s son. Harry told us Severus has pictures of everyone in his house. In his library, where he spends most of his time. I don’t know why I’m still suspicious. I mean, Harry clearly knows Severus. He knows about Severus’s childhood with Uncle Tobias. Severus is a private bastard; I can’t see him telling anyone about something like that with some orphan boy from the street.”

Alfred looked at her in surprise, “Harry knows about Tobias’s treatment?”

Jacky nodded glumly.

Clearing her throat, Gloria said decisively, “See? You’re both suspicious for no reason. Harry’s a lovely lad. The children get on with him. Severus and Harry just need to work through a few things, but that’s their business.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jacky conceded.

Behind them, Andrew slinked away without being noticed.

“Now, go upstairs and send Sarah down,” Gloria ordered her husband. “Then go get Iain. And take a few spades with you, just in case. Iain’ll need garden shovelling. He’s too old to do it himself and too proud to ask for help.”

Jacky headed back to the kitchen. Gloria was only a few steps behind.

ooOoo

Severus heard Alfred’s footsteps ascend the stairs and froze, not wanting another confrontation with his cousin. He quickly stepped back and hid on the stairs up to the attic.

Any hopes of Alred disappearing into his bedroom so Severus could sneak past undetected were dashed when he heard Alfred knocking on Sarah’s door.

“Sarah, love, can I come in?” Alfred called from the hallway.

“Come in,” came Sarah’s muffled voice.

“You okay, love?” Alfred’s voice drifted through the open door. “Thinking about Uncle Severus’s cheque?”

Sarah must have nodded as no reply came back.

Technically, he could sneak past if he was quiet, but curiosity had him rooted where he was. He carefully sat down on the steps, ensuring he was out of sight.

There was a brief silence, and the sound of Alfred’s footsteps, the scraping of a chair being pulled and creaking as Severus imagined his cousin taking a seat.

“Nana said I should ask you what you want,” Alfred began the conversation. “Where’s your head at?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah confessed miserably.

“It was generous of him,” Alfred admitted.

Severus wished he’d heard this tone earlier when Sarah first opened the envelope containing the cheque.

“Why did it make you angry?” Sarah asked.

Severus leaned forward, interested in the answer.

“I might have overreacted,” Alfred acknowledged. He gave a deep sigh. “Severus only comes for Nana Bea. The rest of us don’t matter to him. You know, when Severus first came to stay with us – when he was sixteen – he was a horrible brat. God – he acted so entitled. Like he was somehow better than us.”

Severus was stunned.

“He went to this posh school in Scotland and came back the following summer like he was the only one who’d ever accomplished anything. I tried to reach out to him. Like you lot, who’d never met Harry until last week, Jacky and I never met Severus. Uncle Tobias left us completely, and his wife, Eileen, she was horrible from what I’d heard. Nana’s heart was always big; when she heard Severus had no one else – she told us that Severus had us.

“But – Severus never acted like he had us. In fact, Severus always acted like we didn’t exist. Jacky and I worked all hours back then. She didn’t have to, but Aunt Jacky helped me pay for my tuition and books. I worked my way through university, too. We’d come home, exhausted, and Nana would be up waiting for us. No matter what time. But Severus barely spoke to us. We didn’t matter to him, and he’s proven that time and time again.”

Severus was glad no one was around to see the flush on his cheeks. He never knew this was how Alfred felt. He never gave his cousins any consideration when he was sixteen. He never felt they reached out to him like Nana had. Had he just missed it? He always thought they’d used work as an excuse to not spend time with him, so he simply stayed away.

“Severus hasn’t changed much over the years,” Alfred said. “He puts in the same effort he always has for the rest of us, which is to say none at all.

“Severus giving you a cheque for a thousand pounds, while generous, just shows how little he knows about us. My issue with Severus is that he makes little effort to get to know us. Nana said it earlier – Harry made more of an effort to understand us in the week he’s been here than Severus has since he’s known us.”

“Harry said Uncle Severus has pictures of us in his house,” Sarah told her father.

Severus shook his head. He’d be having words with Potter – he should have known the boy would stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Jacky mentioned that,” Alfred acknowledged calmly.

“Harry said –” Sarah began to say but faltered.

Severus tensed. What did that brat say? Potter wouldn’t miss any opportunity to put his teacher down. He’d probably relish the chance to divide Severus from his family.

“What did Harry say?” Alfred prompted gently.

“Harry said Uncle Severus isn’t any more demonstrative with him as he is with us,” Sarah continued. “He said Uncle Severus was really upset when he learned how ill Nana Bea was. And how Uncle Severus does care about us but doesn’t know how to show it. Harry said Uncle Severus was just trying to show he knows what’s happening with us the best way he knows how.”

Severus relaxed. That wasn’t bad. For Potter. Potter must still be playing the dutiful son.

“Harry said it was my decision if I wanted to take the money or not.”

“He’s right,” Alfred agreed.

“Harry said something else.”

Severus found himself tensing again. He knew bringing Potter with him was a bad idea.

“Well – it was more the way he said it,” Sarah clarified.

“Oh?”

“Harry said Uncle Severus was bad at building relationships -” (Severus was going to kill Potter- the Boy-Who-Lived would be no more), “but he when he said it was my choice whether I wanted to take the money or not, he sort of implied that maybe taking the money would step towards building a better relationship with Uncle Severus.”

“Really?”

Really? Severus echoed silently.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said frustratedly. “I might just be reading into it too much. He’s Harry’s dad. Of course Harry would defend his dad.”

Potter defend him? Severus shook his head in disbelief.

“We don’t need Severus’s money,” Alfred told his daughter, “but if you decide to accept it, I won’t argue with you about it. You can use it for books or equipment. Just like he said.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah prevaricated. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“You do that, love,” Alfred said nonchalantly. “In the meantime, Jacky’s asked if you wanted to join her in the kitchen. She’s about to make her cranberry sauce and asked if you still wanted to learn how to make it.”

Sarah laughed, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good. I’m heading off to Iain Baker’s. He missed his train to Glasgow yesterday, and Sam’s asked if he could join us for dinner today, so he’s not alone.”

“Oh, dad,” Sarah groaned. “Not Iain Baker. He’s such a horrible person. He’ll spend the whole time moaning about everything from the weather, which he thinks you can control, and how we’ve decorated the Christmas tree. He even complains about the cranberry sauce Aunt Jacky makes, but it doesn’t stop him from asking for all her jam.”

Alfred laughed at his daughter’s grumbling.

“Yes, he does do all that,” he agreed, “but it’s Christmas, and we can’t leave him alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sarah sighed resignedly. “I’ll be down in a bit. Take your time with Mr Baker.”

Severus waited until he heard Alfred leave Sarah’s room and head towards the stairs before he stood up and moved. He paused outside Sarah’s door briefly but then walked downstairs, lost in thought.

Alfred was explaining that he needed to fetch this Iain Baker, whoever he was, to Nana Bea when Severus entered the Sitting room.

“Oh, it’ll do Iain good to get out of the house and visit us,” Nana said. “Oh, Severus, did you hear about Iain Baker?”

“I don’t know who he is,” Severus admitted, not looking at his cousin.

“He’s a neighbour, about a mile down. His brother moved to Glasgow forty years ago. They’re both widowed with no children, but Sam found a new girlfriend last year and Iain’s still sulking about it. He missed the train to see his brother yesterday, and Sam asked if his brother could join us instead.”

“I see,” Severus said with a sinking heart. One more person to put up with. It was Alfred’s house. He could hardly tell him who not to invite.

“Take Severus with you,” Nana suggested in a bright voice, as if Severus was a child who needed to be entertained.

“What?” “I beg your pardon?”

“Go on, Severus. Go with Alfred,” Nana urged.

“Severus won’t want to come with me to pick up our neighbour, Nana. He’ll want to spend his time with you.”

After hearing Alfred complain about not spending time with the rest of the family, he was stung into replying, “I’ll come.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Alfred looked surprised at his agreement. It was the same look he’d given Severus when he lied about having a son. But, too late, he couldn’t take the words back.

It was just a mile down the road, Severus assured himself. They’d be back soon with one extra person. He could spend a few minutes alone with his cousin in the car. This wasn’t a big deal. At least he wouldn’t have to pretend to have another child.

ooOoo

“Severus voluntarily left with Alfred?” Jacky asked in disbelief an hour later when she came to check whether anyone wanted anything for lunch. “Our Severus? With our Alfred?”

“I take those,” Barry said with an amused smile, reaching for the tray of butties that were in danger of sliding off the platter as she stood there in shock.

“Our Severus and our Alfred,” Nana confirmed with a smile.

“Wow,” Jacky said in amazement.

“Nana didn’t even have to badger him,” Barry told her. “She just said- Severus go with Alfred, and Severus said, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wow,” Jacky repeated. “Our Severus and our Alfred – out together? I never thought I’d say this, but poor Severus.”

Barry sniggered as he took a sandwich from the tray he’d deposited on the coffee table. There were enough sandwiches to tide everyone over until the dinner was cooked. Which was coming along nicely, thanks to Harry. The wonderful aroma of sage and lemon permeated the air.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Jacky asked, taking a seat on the sofa next to her husband.

“Interrupt their bonding time?” Barry smirked.

“It’ll be good for them to spend some time together,” Nana told them.

“Hope this doesn’t backfire, Nana,” Jacky said warningly.

“Nothing else has so far,” Nana giggled, her face wrinkling in amusement as she patted her wheelchair. “But I would like to stretch my legs.”

“Want me to take you to the paddock, and you can walk around for a bit?” Barry offered.

“Oh, yes,” Nana accepted immediately.

“Hold on,” Jacky said before they could rush off. “I’ll make you both a flask of tea to take with you.”

“Lovely,” Nana smiled.

Within ten minutes, Gloria made tea (because that was another thing Jacky couldn’t make right) and watched Barry carefully wheel Nana Bea to the paddock where she could walk around without being seen by the kids.

Honestly, she was looking forward to the day when they could stop pretending Nana was in a wheelchair. She hadn’t meant for the deception to go on for this long, and she knew the kids had been shocked and worried when they’d seen Nana in the wheelchair for the first time, but the adults thought it would be too much for the children to keep secret and not let slip.

It was all done for Severus’s benefit. To give him this final chance to bring the son he claimed to have. When Severus first mentioned having a son, they were surprised but believed him without a doubt. After all, Severus had no reason to lie. However, as year after year passed, with one silly excuse after another, they began to doubt Severus had a son at all. Telling Severus Nana was seriously ill had made Jacky feel guilty as she knew Severus adored Nana Bea, but it had been an attempt to make him bring his son. Even though they half believed that Severus lied about having a child, Nana still wanted to meet the boy, so Nana’s illness had been an ultimatum of sorts.

Though Severus had written back and confirmed he would be bringing his son and accepted their offer to stay for the entire Christmas period, instead of the overnight Severus usually did, Nana and the others still believed Severus would make a last-minute excuse. At which point, Jacky had been prepared to confront Severus about his lies.

They’d all been shocked to see Severus enter the house with Harry and pleasantly surprised to discover Harry was nothing like his father, even if they still had suspicions that Severus might have brought a child actor to play the part of his son.

Conversely, what made them less suspicious was how little time Severus and Harry spent together. After all, given how much Severus emphasised Claudia keeping his son away from him, it would have been less believable if Severus and Harry walked in like best mates.

Jacky had become genuinely fond of Harry in very little time. They all had. If anything, Severus still had trouble connecting with Harry. She decided not to speculate on it further. Severus was here. Harry was here. It was close to a perfect Christmas as they would get. And bonus, they’d get a decent Christmas dinner this year.

She wasn’t as bad a cook as everyone made her out to be; they all teased her with their exaggerations. After all, she did most of the cooking between the two houses. They all survived on her food so far, hadn’t they? However, she happily admitted that she would miss Harry’s cooking after Christmas was over. She cooked to ensure they all had food to eat, but she would readily admit that she didn’t have Harry’s ability to do the ingredients justice.

She headed back to the kitchen, where Harry had the preparations well in hand and relayed the news of Severus leaving with Alfred to fetch Iain Baker. Feeling superfluous and a little tired, Jacky sat at the kitchen table at Gloria’s urging, though still helped as much as she could from her seat.

“Oh, Uncle Severus doesn’t know about Mr Baker, does he?” Andrew said with a laugh, as he washed, peeled and cut the sprouts, as per Harry’s instructions.

“Who?” Harry asked, chopping the bacon he’d be using to flavour the sprouts.  

Wary of her nephew misinforming Harry about Iain, Gloria quickly answered before Andrew could, “Iain’s a bit of a gruff. He lives about a mile down the road from us. Sam, his brother, used to live here years ago as well but moved to Scotland aeons ago. We’ve only met him a few times, but Iain used to see us quite regularly when he had his dog. His dog passed away about five years ago. Old age. Iain was devastated. He loved his dog but only spoke to his brother regularly. He and Sam have both been widowed for almost twenty years. Then, last spring, Sam found himself a new lady friend, which depressed Iain even more. He’s just – he’s sad and lonely.”

“Mr Baker’s more than just lonely,” Andrew scoffed. “He was always bitter, but after his dog, Benjy died, he was even more horrible. He hates talking to people.”

At Jacky’s admonishment, he said defensively, “What? He’s horrible. Uncle Alfred will spend hours listening to Mr Baker complain about everything under the sun, and Mr Baker’ll argue about having to leave his house and come over, and if he gets left behind, he’ll complain even more.”

“He does sound lonely,” Harry added with a thoughtful look.

Harry was astoundingly mature when it came to other people.

Andrew looked betrayed that Harry didn’t agree with him, but the younger lad didn’t notice.

“Mark my words, Harry,” Andrew insisted, “Mr Baker will be horrible throughout the whole of Christmas dinner. I wish we didn’t have to invite him.”

“Andrew,” Jacky said warningly, “I won’t have you talking like that in front of Mr Baker. No one deserves to be alone on Christmas. It’s bad enough that Iain had to wake up alone on Christmas morning, but we can include him in dinner. It’s a good deed, whether Iain appreciates it or not.”

Andrew didn’t look any happier but wisely didn’t argue further.

Jacky couldn’t blame Andrew for feeling as he did. Even before Benjy passed on, Iain had been a curmudgeon who hated kids. The kids stayed away whenever Iain came around as well, but today would be a test of patience.

“I feel sorry for Uncle Severus, being stuck with that old bast-”

“Andrew!” Jacky warned, not willing to listen to his foul language.

Harry snorted, “Actually, it sounds like he’ll get on well with S-Dad.”

Jacky noticed that sometimes Harry almost called his father by his first name but put it down to their palpable lack of familiarity. Even Severus seemed to trip over calling Harry with the same casualness.

“Really?” Gloria asked, surprised.

Jacky found herself leaning forward, listening with fascination. They’d never heard Severus ever complain about anything before, though that was more due to Severus barely spending any time with them. Apart from complaining about his ex, Severus rarely said anything before. The first time Jacky heard a personal complaint was a few days back when he’d joined the children in disparaging her cooking. Jacky had been surprised (and amused) to hear the complaint, minor though it was.

“Dad complains about all sorts,” Harry said with a careless shrug. “Students, classes, the economy, the weather, the price of stuff. Fashion. I hear a lot of that at school.”

Jacky bit her lip to stop herself from giggling.

Maya, on the other hand, frowned. She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to shut it straight away.

Noticing this, she leaned toward her daughter, “Maya, love, will you help me with something in the other room?”

Maya almost opened her mouth to argue but, after a glance in Harry’s direction, gave an unhappy nod and followed her out. Andrew and Harry were busy finishing the sprouts, but Gloria gave her a questioning look.

Jacky led them to Nana’s room for privacy and gratefully sat down on Nana’s bed, patting the seat next to her for Maya to join.

“What is it, love?” Jacky asked with concern. “What did you want to talk about?”

Maya fidgeted beside her, her behaviour not easing her mother’s growing concern.

“Maya?” Jacky frowned.

“Idon’tthinkHarryshouldgobackhome,” Maya said so quickly that Jacky had to make her repeat herself.

“Why not?”

Maya burst into tears and threw herself at her mother. Automatically putting her arms around her daughter, Jacky asked gravely, “Tell me everything you know.”

Jacky listened with rising anger about the marks her daughter had seen on Harry’s back.