The moonlight cast through the small slit in curtains was falling on the dark and cold fireplace in the silent room, which bore no signs of someone's inhabitancy. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, the furniture clean of any personal items, not even a cup left after afternoon tea on the table.
More than anything it seemed like a prepared guest room awaiting its visitors. Therefore the silent gasp for air sounded even more inappropriate.
Severus Snape was lying motionless in the bed, his eyes staring upward at the ceiling which was disappearing in darkness. He sat up quickly and unwittingly touched his neck. He grunted then, dismissing the nightmarish feeling of the clasp of terrible jaws tearing his skin and the warm blood flowing over his hands.
Not for the first time he wondered how was it possible the Dreamless potion had not been working on this dream that kept repeating almost every night.
Green snake hissing, its teeth sinking slowly into his flesh, his arms and legs numb, unable to fight against it, unable to do anything to save his life. And the pair of green eyes watching him passively…
Snape ran a hand over his face, breathing in deeply. He did not feel like sleeping again and he thought of a glass of bourbon instead.
He got up and froze where he stood instantly. There was a scratching sound on the window, followed by a weak hoot.
He let his owl in, taking the parchment off her leg and reading it by the moonlight. He was glowering at the text and after finishing reading he snorted, crumpling the letter and throwing it to the dark fireplace.
"Dimwit…" he uttered. He had believed that plain and total ignoring could perhaps make him stop trying but this time he had turned to be pretty naïve. Furthermore, he felt a bit more threatened by this last letter.
What if only ignoring was not enough?
Snape walked over to the cupboard, opening it and taking a dusty bottle and a small glass, sitting into the armchair near the fireplace and letting out a heavy sigh, all in complete darkness. He poured himself a glass and took a small sip, letting the warming liquid slip pleasantly down his throat.
Watching the snowflakes that had just started falling from the sky, he lit a candle and took a small piece of parchment, for there was no need for a bigger one for his one-sentenced answer.
Yet while writing it, he reluctantly reminded the other's extremely persistent stubbornness, and deep in his mind worried if his answer would even have the intended effect.
"So… are you going to tell them or you'll just wait till he appears on the doorsteps?"
Harry shrugged.
"I kind of hope this would sort somehow itself."
"Interesting idea…" Ginny said slowly, "And I can't really say I don't understand why."
Harry shook his head then, taking a sip of his coffee.
"But it's not like it's happening anyway, right? I mean – a pink, carol-singing elephant landing on the doorsteps and tap dancing is more possible than this."
"It's not that impossible," Ginny remarked. "Christmas, you know."
Harry chuckled and glanced out of the window of the cosy little coffee shop they hid in when it had started snowing half an hour ago. Their small table was surrounded by various bags and boxes containing their Christmas presents and Harry was quite grateful the shopping had been over, as he felt hundreds of galleons lighter. They were about to have the Burrow all to themselves for Christmas, as Mr and Mrs Weasley had accepted the invitation to spend Christmas with Fleur and Bill, and with George spending Christmas with Angelina, the only inhabitants of the Burrow would be he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione.
"Anyway, I'm thinking about the plan B, because certainly the first plan is not going to work," Ginny continued musing, stirring her tea with the spoon.
"I can't imagine the reaction to your surprise," she said then, the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Yeah, neither can I," Harry replied much more gloomily.
"That's going to be one beautiful reunion," Ginny added and Harry regarded her with a cold look, at which she waved her hands quickly.
"I'm sorry," she said, not able to keep the amusement out of her voice. "It's just the image…"
She laughed briefly but looking at him she rather stopped.
"No, I mean… I approve," she said. "I think you did right. I'm just curious if you have some plan after that, you know. Some speech or something…"
Harry remained silent, as he had no plan after that.
"I'll improvise."
"Fine…" Ginny said. "That's going to be worth seeing."
Harry looked down at his coffee cap, questioning himself whether it was really such a good idea. As all his previous letters or clumsy attempts to contact him failed miserably, he thought of something more radical. And Christmas time was a perfect excuse to take his idea into action.
Albeit still not being sure how to carry that out, he just somehow knew he should.
He had even produced a very politely sounding invitation he had sent a couple of days ago and to which he was expecting an equally negative response.
Dear Professor Snape,
It is my great pleasure to invite you for Christmas dinner to Burrow. Please consider it before rejecting, as everybody would be delighted to see you.
Yours sincerely,
Harry Potter.
Well, Harry was lying in at least two matters – nobody except Ginny knew about that invitation and Harry would highly doubt someone would be so delighted to see him – as he could not think of the possible reaction Ron would have.
Hope you liked the first take and comment, please!