The Christmas Gift

by Jedi Tess of Gryffindor

Harry Potter goes to bed beside his wife Ginny and wakes up Christmas Eve in a bed that isn't his. Suddenly his life is full of Slytherins and family he's never met. When he realizes it's more than a dream, will Harry remain in the new reality?

The Christmas Gift

By Jedi Tess of Gryffindor

Summary: Harry Potter goes to bed beside his wife Ginny and wakes up Christmas Eve in a bed that isn't his, as a sixteen-year-old with a sister and a healthy, living, breathing mother. Suddenly his life is full of Slytherins and family he's never met and a mysterious encounter with his godfather, Uncle Dumb. When he realizes it's more than a dream, will Harry remain in the new reality or return to the old?

A/N: My annual Christmas fic, with lots of romance (unusual pairings abound), Slytherins, and twists on reality. I thought it would be fun to mess around a bit this year. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and original canon characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am not profiting in any way from this fic, except insofar as I've learned a good deal about writing from practicing in Jo's arena.

)DREAM(

Harry Potter slipped quietly through the front door of Dobby Terrace. The house was dark and peaceful, gently blanketed in new snow.

Teddy Lupin followed silently behind. Unlike his mum, Teddy was about the least clumsy person Harry had ever met. When he was little, he'd enjoyed sneaking up on Ginny and Grandma Weasley and saying, "Hi!" very loudly.

Harry often wondered: if Tonks had lived, would Teddy have become an Auror?

"Where should I kip?" Teddy murmured as they shrugged off their snow-dusted cloaks and pulled off their boots.

"Ginny made up the guest room for you," Harry whispered.

"Isn't Gran staying over?" Teddy asked.

"She said not this year," Harry said. "She'll come round with the Malfoys when they're ready." He didn't add that the shock they were all in over the Malfoys coming to Christmas dinner was probably the reason Andromeda was coming round with them – hoping to soften the blow. If someone had told Harry a year ago that his family would be sitting down with Draco Malfoy's for the holidays, he'd have laughed and laughed and had them committed.

"Thank Merlin we're having Christmas dinner here," Teddy murmured.

"Thank Merlin it's only us," Harry agreed. "I don't know that Grandpa Weasley could cope." Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were on their way to Charlie's family in Romania. Mercifully, Hermione was taking Ron and the kids with.

He glanced at Teddy and saw his hair go dark red.

"It's going to take time," Harry said, squeezing his godson's tense shoulders. "The Weasleys all like Score all right but – there's a lot of bad blood between Draco Malfoy and Ron, not to mention Narcissa Malfoy and Arthor and Molly."

"I know all that," Teddy said, sighing.

"Listen, mate," Harry said. "I know it's not easy, building your own family. And you're doing something no one's in your families has ever tried before. You're bringing Malfoys and Weasleys together, two families that ordinarily would never have anything to do with each other." He smiled at his godson. "Give it time."

Teddy smiled reluctantly back, his hair returning to the frosty blue it had been at Godric's Hollow. "All right," he said at last. He stood, stretched, and headed for the guest room off the kitchen. "Night, Uncle Harry."

"Night, Teddy."

Harry climbled the stairs to the first floor, walking the hall full of familiar pictures of the kids, Ginny, Ginny's family, Harry's parents, and Teddy. He stopped at a few, staring into the laughing faces of his parents, of Sirius, of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, of Lupin and Tonks, of all of Harry's brothers-in-law. Of Harry and Ginny on their wedding day, of baby Matilda just hours after she was born. Pictures of James, Albus, and Lily in their Hogwarts robes, grinning and nudging each other as they stood smiling for the camera and waiting for the Hogwarts Express.

Harry left the pictures and crept into the bedroom. Ginny and Matilda were both asleep. Matilda lay on her back in her cradle, fluffy black hair sticking up all over her head. Harry had a nasty feeling she was going to wind up with his hair. As Harry stood watching her sleep, she gave a little moan, flailing her arms. Harry reached down and rubbed her tummy, something she seemed to like when she was sleeping. She quieted and returned to the tiny breaths she'd been taking. Her hands came down to grip his fingers in her tiny fists. She held on and Harry stayed until she let go.

He shook his head at the wonder of her – of all of his children. He wondered if it was some sort of complex he had as a result of being an orphan, this constant awe at his children.

He stripped off his winter clothes, pulled on his pyjamas, and slid into bed. Ginny stirred in her sleep but didn't wake up. Harry lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

What would James and Lily Potter have thought of their grandchildren? What would Sirius or Remus have made of them? This wasn't the first time he'd wondered. Even in his happiest moments, wrapped in his large family, he felt them missing. Sometimes – very rarely, but sometimes – he was reminded that apart from the kids, this wasn't his real family. They were borrowed – appreciated, definitely, but not Harry's. Ginny was his wife and he loved her more than anything. But sometimes, he missed the bloodline, that intangible connection that the magic in the blood intensified.

Harry rolled over. He thought most about his lost family at Christmastime, especially after he and Teddy did their yearly visit to the Godric's Hollow graveyard, where the Marauders and their loved ones had been buried together. He was glad Teddy had a connection to his parents. He just wished that were enough.

)DREAM(

Harry awoke suddenly, squinting at the bright light spilling over his bed. He blinked several times.

"Harry!" a voice whined somewhere to his right. "Harry, hurry and get up or Mum's going to come in here."

Harry frowned. Mum?

Someone shook his arm.

"All right, all right." He pushed himself upright, reaching for his glasses. He didn't feel them on the bedside table. Frowning, he blinked his eyes open and glanced around. His breath caught.

The room coming into focus around him was small and packed with things. Posters of several Quidditch teams hung on one wall. Clothing lay about in piles on every surface. In the corner was a broomstick, an original Firebolt model. A bookshelf in the corner by a parchment-covered desk held an assortment of textbooks.

Harry wasn't wearing glasses and he could see everything in the room with perfect clarity. What the hell was going on?

"Harry, it's Christmas Eve!" A small girl clambered up onto Harry bed. She had long black hair and bright green eyes. Harry gasped. She looked just like –

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the little girl asked, crossing her arms and scowling at him.

"Sorry," he said automatically. He looked stared around some more, trying to understand where he was.

"Oh. Are you okay?"

Harry looked at her again. Her eyebrows drew together in a thin line, her large eyes wide in her small face.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I'm not sure ..."

The bedroom door opened and Harry felt suddenly light-headed. His mum stood there, smiling at him.

"There you are, sleepy-head," Lily said, crossing to him and kissing his cheek. "Hurry and get dressed. Ella's been waiting ages for breakfast."

Harry couldn't have said anything if he'd wanted to. He stared at her, drinking her in, wondering how she could possibly be alive, in his bedroom that wasn't his bedroom. He caught sight of himself in a small mirror that hung from the wardrobe and his heart stuttered. He couldn't have been more than sixteen!

"Love, are you all right?" Lily sat herself by him on the bed. Harry stared at her. "Harry?" she said again, feeling his forehead. "El, do you know what's wrong?"

"No, Mummy," the little girl said, climbing right into Harry lap and peering into his eyes. "Maybe he had a nightmare."

"Harry," Lily said, her stern voice snapping him back to himself.

"Sorry – sorry, Mum," he said carefully.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice softening as she ran a hand over his hair.

"Nothing," he said, tilting his head forward onto her shoulder and feeling his eyes burn when she put her arms comfortably around him and rubbed his back.

"Please tell me, darling," she said softly.

"Really," he said thickly. "I'm fine. Just – yeah, bad dream."

"Well, you're all right now," Lily promised. "We have a big day today."

"Do we?" Harry said faintly.

She laughed. "Of course." She pulled back and Harry had to physically restrain himself from leaning with her. She glanced at the clock on his desk. "Your friends will be here any minute, so you'd better hurry and get dressed." She sighed. "I'd say to tidy up your room but we all know how much you listen to your old mum about that."

"Mum!" Harry said, panicking as she pulled the door open.

"What, love?" She turned back, a small smile on her lips. "I'm just going down to help Dad with breakfast."

Dad. Harry grinned. "Be down in a minute," he managed.

Lily smiled and shut the door.

"You going to help me get dressed?" Harry asked the little girl who was his sister.

"Eww!" Ella leapt off the bed and fled toward the door. "Harry?" she said as she pulled it open. "You'll let me play with your friends today?"

"Um – sure?" he said. She beamed and disappeared through the door.

Harry was relieved to find jeans and a tee-shirt that seemed to be his. He found a jumper hanging over the back of the desk chair and tugged it over his head. He threw another look at teenaged Harry, reflected in the mirror on the back of the wardrobe. He frowned, pushing his hair back. He ran his fingers over his forehead, squinting.

No, it wasn't his imagination. His scar was gone.

He stared around at the room that wasn't his room at Number 4 Privet Drive. He stared at his teenaged reflection. He pinched himself and felt it. He tugged at his hair and his scalp smarted. He felt the bridge of his nose, free of glasses, the rasp of jeans against the skin and hair on his legs. His room smelled musty, the must mingling with a delicious smell coming from somewhere else in this strange house.

Cautiously, he approached the door. He pushed it open. He seemed to be on the first floor. A long corridor beyond had several doorways off it and ended in a staircase. From the ground floor came an unintelligible jumble of voices and laughter. Harry started along the corridor. The walls were covered with photographs. Most of them were of him and his sister, Ella. Some were school photos and others were candid shots of him. Pictures of eight or nine-year-old Harry holding a baby that had to be Ella. Some of Lily, Ella, and Harry together at the park. Others of Harry alone, Ella alone, Lily with her family when she was a child.

Someone was missing. Where was James Potter?

One photograph caught him up short. It was the largest and was clearly done professionally. The people in it were still, unlike the people in the magical photos surrounding it. Harry saw himself, as he appeared now, seated on the ground with Ella, who looked as she had in Harry's room a few minutes ago. There was Lily, sitting just behind them both in a chair and leaning forward with her arms on her knees. A man sat on the arm of the chair, leaning with Lily and grinning.

It wasn't James Potter.

In a flash, Harry bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. He paused only a moment at the sight of Lily and Ella by the enormous Christmas tree in the corner of the adjoining sitting room, giggling over a tinkling ornament that kept exploding in a shower of red and green sparks and then reforming itself. His eyes roved around until they found what they were hoping not to.

"You!" he breathed, staring at the man standing over a sizzling pan of sausages.

"What, is that code for something?" Severus Snape gave Harry a pleasant half-smile that flipped Harry's stomach painfully over at the same time Snape flipped the sausages. "Sorry, mate, I haven't been a teenager for a long time."

"I – but – " Harry said.

"Something up?" Snape asked, studying him.

Harry sat down hard on a handy stool in the corner of the kitchen.

"Harry." Snape put down the fork he'd been using to turn the sausages. "Lils, come here, will you?"

"Harry, you told me you were all right," Lily said, glancing up from Ella and the tree and looking anxious.

"I – right," Harry said. "Just – just give me a minute. I think I'm having a mental breakdown." He pressed a hand to his forehead and tried to make sense of Severus Snape and Lily – not Lily Potter, evidently.

"Well, get on with it, then. Your friends will be here soon." Harry jumped as Snape's hand settled on his shoulder. He looked up, disbelieving, into the black eyes of the man who'd made his life a living hell and saved the wizarding world by dying for it twenty years ago. He had a horrible shock when he saw how kind and worried the eyes were. He almost turned to see who Snape might really be looking at.

"Harry, are you sick?" Ella joined Snape, pressing her cold little hand to his forehead (Harry had another shock as her hand failed to brush the scar he no longer had). He looked between Ella and Snape. They looked so much alike – the sharp curve of their noses, the straight black hair. Only Ella's eyes were her mother's vibrant green.

"No, really," he said, sliding awkwardly off the stool and shying away from them both. "I'm just – yeah, nightmare. Feel weird. Gonna sit by the tree and wake up a bit."

"Want a cup of tea?" Snape asked, watching Harry retreat to the other side of the sitting room. Slowly, he returned to the stovetop. "I'm making one for your mum."

"Daddy, can I have one, please?" Ella asked, following him into the kitchen and tugging on his dressing gown pocket until he stooped and picked her up.

"You can have whatever you like, princess," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Can I have a Firebolt?" she asked immediately.

"Anything but that," Snape amended, dumping the sausages into a dish.

"Go on, Daddy, Harry got one!"

"Harry's very durable and is Slytherin Seeker," Snape told Ella, pride evident in his voice. Harry made a funny choking noise and tried not to faint with horror. Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Last time I checked." He shifted Ella and looked her in the eye. "You, my darling girl, haven't even started at Hogwarts yet."

"Just wait til I do!" Ella said, looking very like her mother all of a sudden. "I'll be the youngest Seeker in a century."

"You planning on stealing Harry's spot on the Slytherin team?" Snape asked. Harry really wished the man would quit saying horrible things about him and also that he would vanish in a puff of impossibility.

And that he would stop sounding so proud of Harry.

"No!" Ella looked shocked. "I don't wanna be in Slytherin, Daddy. I'm going to be in Gryffindor and be Seeker and beat Harry in every match."

"She will, you know," Lily said, joining them in the kitchen and smiling when Snape put an arm around her. Snape looked as though nothing in the world was better than the three of them standing there together, grinning about Ella and Hogwarts and Slytherin Seekers. Lily glanced over her shoulder, grinning at Harry. "Weren't we lucky to have such talented kids?"

"If some of them worked as hard on their essays as they did on the pitch ..." Snape said, throwing a wink at Harry, who thought his brain might be collapsing in on itself. He squealed like a girl when a cough came from the fireplace at the opposite end of the sitting room.

"Told you, mate," Snape said, putting Ella down and going back to breakfast. "That'll be Draco."

"Malfoy?" Harry said weakly. Well, Snape was here and Malfoy loved Snape so it just bloody figured, didn't it?

"We know any other smart-mouthed Slytherins named Draco?" Snape asked, rolling his eyes.

A moment later, Harry's rival, no older than sixteen himself, stepped down onto the hearth rug. "All right?" Malfoy asked, shaking ash off his expensive robes. Again, Harry had to resist the urge to look around for whoever Malfoy might actually be talking to. "It was a job getting Father to let me come here, I don't mind telling you."

"How awful for you," Harry said blankly.

"Oy, a little sympathy, mate." Malfoy glanced up at him. Then he frowned. "You all right? You're about as pale as the Bloody Baron."

"Bit rich, coming from you," Harry muttered. Malfoy's lip curled and Harry was about to start feeling relieved at the normalcy of it, when he realized Malfoy was smiling. At him. Harry's stomach dropped to his toes.

"Is that breakfast?" Malfoy asked, wandering into the kitchen.

"Draco!" Ella shrieked in excitement.

"Hi, pipsqueak," he said.

"Draco," came Snape's voice.

"Hi, Professor," Malfoy said comfortably. "Mrs. Snape."

"You know I hate it when you call me that," came Lily's voice.

"Sorry – Mrs. Lily," Malfoy said, hesitantly.

"His mum brought him up properly, Lils," Snape said.

"Yeah, well, no one's to be proper in my house," Lily teased. "Draco, have you eaten yet? Would you like a bite?"

"Yes, thank you." Harry could hear the smirk in his voice as he added, "Sir, you're not cooking, are you?"

"I resent that, boy," Snape retorted. "Harry – you hungry?"

Harry jumped again. He realized that he was going to have to come to terms with the unexpected if he was going to get through whatever insane hallucination he was living. Maybe it was post-traumatic stress. Maybe he was being drugged by Death Eaters. He'd just have to play along and take things as they came or he could make things a whole lot worse for himself. Maybe Hermione could sort it all out for him. Of course, if he was in Slytherin, there was a good bet he wasn't friends with Hermione. Or Ron.

"Sure, I'll eat," Harry said, getting to his feet and heading for the kitchen. He found Malfoy taking off his robe and hanging it over a chair. Ella fluttered near him, clearly captivated by everything he did. Lily and Snape worked on breakfast together, wands out and flicking at food, plates, and silverware.

"Having a good holiday?" Malfoy asked when Harry sank into a chair next to him.

"I don't know," Harry muttered. "You?" he added a moment later.

"Harry, you're in my chair!" Ella cut in. "I get to sit by Draco."

"There's another chair right there," Harry pointed out, indicating the chair on Malfoy's other side.

Ella's face scrunched up, her lip stuck out, and she gave Harry an impressive raspberry. Snape met Harry's eye across the kitchen counter and jerked his head. Harry sighed, annoyed, and gave Ella a dramatic bow of submission. Malfoy laughed and Lily mouthed 'Thank you' at Harry across the kitchen. Harry was suddenly glad he'd moved.

Then he realized that he's sunk into the illusion for an entire thirty seconds without feeling like he might faint. The thought brought him back to reality fast enough he almost did faint.

Another scuffle from the chimney made Harry jump.

"What is up with you, mate?" Malfoy asked, staring at him. "I've never seen you jumpy like this before." He threw a look at the sitting room, shrugging. "Bet you a Galleon it's Blaise."

"No betting in my house, Draco," Lily said, ruffling his uncharacteristically untidy blond hair as she set a plate of food in front of him.

"Sorry, Mrs. Lily. Thank you, Mrs. Lily." Malfoy grinned at her.

"It's all very well that he behaves himself in my house," Snape grumbled. "It's why he can't behave that way in class that always baffles me."

"It's your lack of nurturing spirit and the lack of piping hot meals in class that make me unruly, sir," Malfoy said, surprising a laugh out of Harry. Malfoy grinned at him, looking pleased with himself.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Blaise Zabini appeared in the sitting room entryway, covered in ash. "I've destroyed everything in your sitting room except the tree."

"You've spared the important thing, then," Lily said, smiling. "Come in, Blaise, and let me get you cleaned up."

"Nice one, Zabini," Malfoy sniggered into his breakfast.

"Be a gentleman, Draco," Lily admonished as she flicked ash from Zabini's robes with her wand. She looked like she'd used this particular spell many, many times. Zabini smirked at Malfoy over Lily's shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Malfoy said. Something in his voice was catching Harry terribly off-guard. Malfoy stood up and bowed low to Zabini. "Hello, darling," he said, batting his eyelashes. "Can I take your cloak? Shall I fetch you the newspaper? How was your day?"

Harry laughed again, Lily grinned and shook her head, and Snape swatted Malfoy over the head with a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet, which an owl had just delivered. Malfoy glanced at Harry again, and Harry realized why Malfoy's tone worried him.

He sounded happy.

"All right, Harry?" Zabini asked. "Thanks, Mrs. Snape."

"Blaise, we've discussed this," Lily said, returning her wand to her sleeve.

"Sorry," Blaise said immediately, sitting beside Ella at the table. Ella looked from Malfoy to Zabini, beaming as though it was suddenly her birthday. "Thank you, Mrs. Lily."

"Acceptable, if not ideal," Lily said.

"What's wrong with Mrs. Snape?" Snape asked her. "Blaise, are you eating as well?"

"Are you cooking, sir?" Zabini, unlike Malfoy, kept a straight face.

"Is that a no, then?" Snape asked, glaring at the pair of them.

"I'll try some, sir, because I am polite."

"Polite, my – "

"Sev," Lily said, nodding at Ella.

" – left eye socket," Snape amended.

"I don't mean to be rude, mate, but you're making me nervous," Malfoy said, glancing up at Harry, who was still standing over him.

"Sorry," Harry said automatically. He realized he'd gone a full two minutes without wanting to pass out. The urge returned and he sat hastily on the stool in the corner.

"I didn't mean – oh, look, forget it." Malfoy glanced at Zabini. "How's your holiday been, then?"

"Disaster, as usual," Blaise said comfortably. His eyes lit up and he clapped his hands. "Sir, is that sausage? You know I love sausage."

"Yes, Blaise, I especially prepared this meal for you, with no thought of anyone else," Snape said, setting Zabini's plate down. He set another plate in front of Ella, who began wolfing down her breakfast as though she hadn't eaten in years.

"I know you like me best, sir," Zabini said, digging into his plate with the same eagerness as Ella. Malfoy smirked at the pair of them and ate his meal in dainty bites.

"Do you not get sausage at home, Blaise?" Lily asked as she flicked her wand at a dirty saucepan and sent it, clean again, into an open cupboard.

"My mum's vegetarian and the ruddy elves at Hogwarts can't make sausage worth eating," Zabini said gloomily. "And Draco's father thinks sausage is commoner food so I don't get it there, either."

"How shocking of Lucius," Snape murmured.

Lily gave him a warning look and nodded at Draco.

"Although sausage is not healthy and Narcissa is very health-conscious," Snape backpedaled in deeply unconvincing tones.

Malfoy didn't seem to notice. He glanced around. "Harry," he said with a little smirk. "Your girlfriend coming round?"

"Possibly," Harry said with fear.

"If you can't cope with her, I'll have her off you," Zabini said. "What a dish."

"Ahem," Lily said, eyebrows raised.

"I mean, what a thoroughly fascinating and attractive personality she has," Zabini said, as deeply unconvincing as Snape had been a moment ago.

Harry tried to think of a way to ask who his girlfriend was without sounding completely mad. He couldn't think of a way, so he braced himself for the worst girlfriend he could think of off-hand (and was nearly struck inner-eye-blind as Moaning Myrtle's leering smile appeared in his brain).

"What're you making that face for?" Ella asked. "I thought you liked Pansy." She looked as though she didn't, especially.

Apart from Moaning Myrtle, Pansy Parkinson was the worst girlfriend possibility Harry had been mentally preparing for. He was saved having to reply to his sister by the Floo in the sitting room going.

"Professor Snape, I hate your Floo," came the voice Harry had been dreading. "Mrs. Snape, please make him fix it."

A moment later, Pansy had still failed to come into the kitchen.

"Are you all right, dear?" Lily called, her lip twitching.

"I am covered in ash," came Pansy's irritable voice. "Harry, are you in there?"

"Yes," Harry squeaked. Zabini and Malfoy nearly choked to death pointing and laughing at him.

"And your bleeding friends," Pansy said over the noise. "Sorry, El, don't mind my language. Mrs. Snape? Harry can't see me like this."

"Coming, dear." Lily gave Snape a look, Snape rolled his eyes, and Harry glared at them. They'd better not be judging his girlfriend. Harry then took a moment to consider clubbing himself to death with an umbrella he's just noticed in the hallway.

He didn't have a chance to adjourn to the umbrella stand because Pansy burst into the living room. Like Malfoy, Pansy didn't look quite right to Harry. He didn't have a chance to look at her properly, however, because she crossed the room in three strides and gave him a quick, thorough kiss, which he was much too surprised to resist.

"Hi," she said, grinning broadly at him. She still looked all wrong, though the why of it escaped Harry's snog-fogged brain.

"Hi," he managed, sounding breathless, which seemed to please her. He thought he could hear a very meaningful and mocking silence coming from Malfoy and Zabini, who were probably watching all this from the table.

"I'm sorry for being depraved and unladylike in your house, Mrs. Snape," Pansy said, lacing her fingers through Harry's and turning to face Lily.

"Harry is your boyfriend," Lily said, her lip curling into an amused smile. "I'm pretty sure I can cope. Though I might change my mind if you don't stop calling me Mrs. Snape."

"That's right, I forgot," Pansy said. "You're cool about stuff."

"For my sake, feel free to restrain your outbursts of depravity in future," Snape cut in pointedly. "I get quite enough of them at school."

"Sorry, Professor, I'm terribly vile and I know that upsets you," said Pansy, smirking at him. Malfoy couldn't restrain a snort of laughter. Zabini had developed a case of the hiccups.

"If you ever come to your senses and dump Harry, I'm all yours," Malfoy told her.

"Dream on, pasty boy wonder," Pansy said. Harry really laughed at that and Pansy looked even more pleased with herself. Harry realized then what was so wrong about her. Like Malfoy, she wasn't a bit the Slytherin bully he remembered from Hogwarts. "El, I have a present for you."

"I shan't be bribed into liking you," Ella surprised Harry by saying, leaning on Malfoy's arm and sticking her nose in the air.

"Not even with Honeyduke's chocolate at breakfast?" Pansy asked casually, producing a thick bar of Honeyduke's Best Bittersweet Chocolate from her robe pocket.

"See, Daddy? This is why I can't be in Slytherin," Ella said uncertainly, eyeing Pansy and the chocolate.

"Why, darling?" Snape asked. He and Lily were leaning on the kitchen counter and eating off one plate. Harry didn't like to look at them too much.

"You're all tricky," Ella cried, leaning a little more on Malfoy, as though he wasn't the trickiest of the lot.

"Harry's not tricky," Zabini said, smirking at him.

"He turned you into a slug that one time," Pansy said, giving Harry's fingers a squeeze and looking fondly up at him. "You didn't notice for hours."

"I was not a slug for hours!" Zabini howled. Malfoy laughed at him.

"After that, I was pretty sure Harry was the least like a brain-dead loser of all the Slytherin boys," Pansy said, reminiscently. "I thought that maybe, someday, if he tried very hard, he might have a chance."

"Obviously, I did something right," Harry said feebly, feeling it was about time he stopped acting like a deer in headlights and started participating in this bizarre alternate universe. After all, maybe if he helped it play out, he could escape back to his real life, with his kids and his wife and his very very Gryffindor lifestyle.

"You muddle through," Pansy said, taking him by surprise with another quick kiss. In the haze that followed for a few seconds after she pulled away, he realized that she was quite good at kissing. Then he wondered if this qualified as cheating on his wife.

"Are you love-muffins eating?" Lily asked, which of course sent Malfoy and Zabini into hooting gasps of laughter again.

"Thanks, Mum," Harry said, though he couldn't stop grinning when she looked at him. "That's at least two years of being called love-muffin at school."

"Nothing we can't manage with a little blackmail," Pansy reassured him, pulling him with her to the table.

Malfoy and Zabini suddenly stopped laughing and looked hunted. When in Slytherin, Harry thought with a shrug. "What sort?" he asked her.

"I'll tell you later," she said, kissing the tip of his nose. "Can I have some food, Professor?"

"What, no slanders on my cooking?" Snape asked, clasping a hand to his heart.

"Who slandered your cooking, sir?" Pansy asked in deeply unsurprised tones.

Lily carried two plates to the table, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry's cheek and press a welcoming hand to Pansy's shoulder. Harry fought the urge to put his hand to his cheek, hold the tingling warmth there.

"So," Zabini said. "When the – ahem – love-muffins are done eating, what are we doing today?"

"Diagon Alley! Diagon Alley!" Ella cried, bouncing in her chair. "Please, Daddy? Please please please?"

"That'll be Diagon Alley, then," Malfoy said.

"Someday, Draco, if you're very lucky, you'll have a daughter of your very own," Snape told him. "Yes, El, Diagon Alley."

Ella squealed and threw herself into her father's arms. Malfoy looked very upset at the idea of impending fatherhood. "You're just like my mum," he muttered while Harry and Zabini laughed at the expression on his face.

"Who's she setting you up with this holiday?" Pansy wanted to know.

"Supposed to be you," he said. "Only then you were taken," he added, smirking at Harry, "by the the grand high love-muffin himself, so she had to rethink."

"So who is it, then?" Harry asked.

"Ginny Weasley," Malfoy said glumly.

"What?" Harry demanded. Ginny Weasley? He made a sharp right at Incredulity and then a U-turn back to Denial.

"It's not that weird," Zabini said clinically, popping the last of his sausage into his mouth. "She's Pure-blooded, even if she's a Gryffindor. Doesn't your dad hate her dad or something, though, Draco?"

"Yeah, but it's my mum setting me up, isn't it?" Malfoy retorted. "We all know who wears the robes in my family."

Harry had a horrible shock as he imagined Narcissa Malfoy in heavy black robes and Lucius skulking behind her in boxer shorts.

"Why is Narcissa trying to set you up with someone, Draco?" Lily asked, clearly mightily amused.

"Yes, it's news to me as well," Snape said, frowning. "Cissy usually tells me when she's scheming."

"So you can help?" Harry said without thinking.

"I resent unfounded accusations, boy," Snape said, winking at him.

"It's a Pure-blood thing," Draco grumbled, glowering at Snape. "Some families still arrange marriages, sir, you know that." He frowned. "Mum schemes with you, sir? What have you schemed?" When Snape smirked at him, Malfoy's eyes widened. "What, sir?"

"I love it when you work him into a panicked frenzy, sir," Zabini said, leaning back in his chair. "It aids my digestion."

Harry chuckled into his plate.

"What the hell kind of friend are you, Snape?" Malfoy growled and it took Harry a moment to realize that by "Snape," Malfoy meant Harry.

"But your mum wouldn't really force you to marry someone, Draco," Pansy said, tucking into her breakfast.

"Why not?" Draco sighed and pushed his plate away. Harry almost felt sorry for him. The emotion gave him a turn.

"You can marry me," Ella suggested. "Daddy, are you okay?" Everyone turned as Snape choked on his breakfast.

"No, he can't marry you, darling," he managed as Lily ducked under his arm to fetch him a glass of water. "Ever."

"It was a generous offer," Lily told her daughter, biting her lip.

"Not in a trillion years," Harry added with feeling. It would go on record as the first and only time he'd agree with Snape about anything.

"What? Then we'd be related, Harry." Draco had a speculative gleam in his eye. "We're already best mates. If I married Ella, we'd sort of be brothers."

Harry thought a small part of him had just died a little inside. "Not in a trillion years," he said distinctly. "Ella, do not marry him."

"Why not?" Ella stared back and forth between her father, who was gulping water, and her brother, who was glaring at Malfoy.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Lily said. "Harry, don't hit Draco."

"Yeah, don't hit Draco," Malfoy said, staring at him. "I was joking, mate."

Harry thought this was probably true, so he tried to calm down. "So, wait," he said, suddenly remembering what had upset him before. "What about Ginny Weasley?"

"Bloody cow," Pansy cut in. "If you even think about dating her, Draco, I will put snakes in your bed every night until we graduate."

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Malfoy demanded. "Violent much?"

Harry realized that there was absolutely no way to explain why Malfoy could never, ever be with Ginny Weasley. What was worse was that if he tried to convince Malfoy not to, the bloody Slytherin would probably take it into his head to try something, just because he liked a challenge.

"Her brother will kill you," was the best he could manage, sending silent thanks to Ron, wherever he was, for existing. "And then," he added with some difficulty, "I'd have to have Blaise as a best mate instead."

The words cost Harry a tremendous effort, but the look of pleasure on Malfoy's face was shocking. Harry and Malfoy must, Harry realized with great reluctance, be really good friends in his universe. Harry glanced at Zabini, who looked quickly away.

Oh, god, Harry thought. "And Zabini's already a better friend than you'll ever be, just know that."

Zabini glanced up, grinning. Malfoy looked deeply offended. Harry decided he'd done the best he could.

"Ginny Weasley's brothers, you mean," Pansy corrected, looking disgusted. "Weasley's got about a hundred, yeah? So, Mrs. Lily, where are we going today besides Diagon Alley?"

"Well," Lily said, "we have to go visit Gran and Granddad because they haven't seen Harry or Ella in a few months."

"Ooh, the Muggle ones?" Zabini said, looking really interested.

"If we take you lot with us," Snape said clearly and distinctly, making careful eye contact with Zabini, Malfoy, and Pansy, "you know very well what the rules are. Promise me." He raised his eyebrows.

Malfoy sighed. "I won't ask them about apply – apply-ants?"

Lily, unlike Snape, looked very amused. "Close enough."

"And I," Pansy said, looking martyred, "won't tap the pictures or paintings with my wand."

"And I," Zabini grumbled, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair, "won't speak or move around much."

Harry wanted very much to know what havoc the three Pure-bloods might have wreaked the last time they'd encountered Muggles. He wondered, too, if any of that havoc had involved Dudley or his family. He bit back a grin at the memory of Ton Tongue Toffees and Dudley's tongue lolling on the sitting room floor.

"How'd you like to see Gran and Granddad?" Lily asked Harry, removing him from his reality to the bizarre alternate universe again.

Harry suddenly realized that these were his gran and granddad. "Love to!" he told his mother, beaming.

"Me, too!" Ella added, grinning at Harry. "Maybe Granddad will let us play with Mrs. Dr. Watson again."

"Mrs. Dr. Watson?" Pansy asked, saving Harry from unbearable curiosity.

"Granddad brought back a huge python from their trip to Brazil last year," Ella explained.

Pansy and Zabini both shot evil grins at Malfoy. "What?" he demanded. "Shut up! Professor, you won't let them do anything to me, will you?"

"Pansy isn't bringing her wand and Blaise has promised me he won't speak or move around much," Snape said, shaking his head at the three of them. Harry suspected they were his favorite students in this universe as well. "I suspect you're quite safe, Draco."

"Yeah, well, you know my mum will go mad if I'm eaten," Malfoy told him, running a nervous hand over his hair, which was standing up in blond spikes all over his head. "And then she'll send Aunt Bella after you, Professor."

Snape shuddered. "Perish the thought," he mumbled.

"Sir, is it true you used to go out with Draco's aunt?" Pansy asked innocently.

Snape looked hunted. "Honestly, girl, where do you hear these dreadful rumors?"

"The ghosts, mostly," Pansy said, with a glance at Harry to make sure he was grinning. He was. A lot. In disgust and unwilling fascination. Satisfied, she added wickedly, "But I make a lot of stuff up that turns out to be true later."

"Oh, my god, Sev." Lily stared at him, her lip twitching. "You went out with Bellatrix Black?"

"Lily," Snape said in a strained voice. "Three of my students and my son who is also my student sometimes are sitting at our table, waiting, just waiting for any opportunity to make my life as miserable as they possibly can. Remember, I was a Slytherin once, too. I do not want to discuss this now."

"You did go out with my aunt Bella, sir, didn't you?" Malfoy said, his eyes wide. Then he groaned. "Damn it, sir, you could've been my uncle! Instead I have creepy Uncle Adolphus, who breeds dragons and has been accused of hunting great-white sharks for pleasure."

"He hunts sharks?" Lily asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Wait, he hunts sharks because hunting them is pleasurable or – ow, Harry!" Zabini glared at him. Harry gave him a sharp look and then nodded at Ella. Snape nodded his thanks at Harry across the kitchen for shutting Zabini up and Harry gave a violent start.

"It's the hunting he likes. Not that anyone's ever caught him at it," Malfoy said darkly. "But he's got a room in their mansion full of stuffed sharks. Once, Greg dared me to go in there at midnight."

"I remember that," Zabini said. "We were eleven. Or was it second year? Harry, you were the one who heard him screaming and went to make sure he was okay. Bloody knight in shining armor, you were," he added, chuckling.

"Shut up!" Malfoy and Harry said at the same time.

"Harry swore he'd never tell anyone what happened in there," Malfoy muttered. "You haven't, have you?" he added, sounding very worried.

Harry assumed that, even in this bizarre and upsetting reality, he was an honest person. If he'd promised, he probably hadn't broken it. "Your secret's safe with me." He glanced at Pansy, who had a speculative gleam in her eye. "Even from blackmailers," he added, pointedly.

"Oh-ho, what a spanking good friend you are," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe I will leave you for Blaise after all."

Harry tried not to say it, but he couldn't help himself. "Well, if you leave me, I guess I'll have to go after Ginny Weasley."

The look on Pansy's face made everyone in the kitchen laugh. "You are pure evil," she said at last, absently patting Zabini on the back when he took to a coughing fit.

"Slytherin," Harry said, shrugging and feeling as though he were on a rollercoaster that was careening off the track.

"Well, my dastardly crew," Lily said. "Shall we go, before Harry and Pansy break up or Draco mutinies or Blaise forgets his promise to sit still and not say things to my parents?"

Ella was already out in the hall. "I want to go now!" she insisted as the others followed her into the hall. Harry noticed more pictures on the walls of the front room.

"Oh, Merlin, where did you get this one, sir?" Draco demanded, stopping before one of the largest pictures. Harry went to have a look and stilled at the sight of it.

They must have been ten, the three of them. Maybe younger, although Harry saw baby Ella in the picture with them, cuddled in the crook of Malfoy's arm. The picture was had been taken on a bluff overlooking the Hogwarts lake, with the wild woods and hills and the Scottish Highlands in the background. Harry stood in the middle, with Malfoy and Zabini on either side. All three of them were laughing. Harry had his arm around Malfoy's shoulders. Zabini leaned toward them. Every few seconds, he looked questioningly at Harry, who nudged his shoulder and grinned. Ten-year-old Zabini grinned back. Ten-year-old Malfoy seemed to be paying half his attention to Ella and half to his friends. Ella in the picture had no teeth but everything Malfoy did seemed to make her laugh.

"What a beautiful day!" Lily said, sighing and smiling. "That was right before you boys started at Hogwarts," she added, putting an arm around Harry and one around Malfoy and kissing both of them. Malfoy didn't look the least embarrassed. In fact, he smiled brightly at her, as though grateful for the attention.

"I remember that," Zabini said, beaming when Lily leaned back to kiss him, too. "Draco, you prat, you look like you might make off with Ella at any moment."

Present-day Ella looked thrilled at the idea. Malfoy went pink. "I like babies, don't judge me," he growled, shoving Zabini as he went after his own boots.

"If Draco had been a few years older, we might have made him godfather instead of Remus," Lily said.

"Unlikely," Snape mumbled in passing.

Harry almost said, Remus Lupin? He managed to keep his mouth shut, though a new idea had occurred to him: who was his godfather? Good bet it wasn't Sirius. The thought sent a wave of unexpected sadness rolling through his mind. He thought about Sirius this time every year but he hadn't mourned his godfather's passing since he was a teenager. He knew Sirius was in a better place now, anyway.

"Remus would have been sad not to be one of the godfathers, though," Lily went on, tucking her feet into boots and helping Ella fasten her long winter cloak.

"Yes," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Poor, dear Lupin."

Harry felt oddly relieved that some things never changed. He caught the look his mother shot at Snape, who instantly said, "Sorry, Lils."

"I miss Uncle Remus," Ella said, blinking up at her mother.

"He's coming to dinner tonight," Lily said, shooting another quelling look at Snape. Snape, however, seemed to have himself under control this time. He simply nodded.

"And will Uncle Dumb be there as well?" Lily wanted to know. Harry blinked – Uncle Dumb?

"Very likely," Lily told her. "He has a meeting with the Minister for Magic tonight but he promised he'd try and make an appearance."

Once again, Harry was saved asking what the hell they were on about by Malfoy. "I can't believe Albus Dumbledore is your godfather, Harry."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Why not?" he asked automatically.

"First of all, he's the greatest wizard this century," Zabini said, something like reverence in his voice. "And he's old."

"He never seems old to me," Lily said, sharing a very different look with Snape. He smiled at her with a look Harry had never seen and could never have imagined seeing on Snape's face.

"Me, neither," Harry said without thinking. Maybe a bit during sixth year, before he'd died. But mostly, Harry remembered an energetic, slightly mad professor who'd trained Harry to voluntarily walk to his own death and made preparations to be sure Harry wouldn't actually have to die.

He hadn't seen Dumbledore in more than two decades. What would it be like, seeing him again?

)DREAM(

They didn't Floo to Diagon Alley. They took Snape's car.

"When you're of age, get a car, Harry," Pansy said, rolling down the window and leaning her chin on the window sill.

"Pansy, it's freezing," Lily said from the front seat.

"Professor, press the magic car fire button," Pansy said.

"Oh, of course, your bleeding highness," Snape said as he backed out of the drive. Harry was pleased to see that the little village in which they lived wasn't Dursley-esque in any way. It seemed to be a small Muggle village, with cottages lined up on either side of the street. They all had sizable front gardens and they were every color and make imaginable.

"Sev," Lily said, nudging him. "Pansy, I will turn on the magic car fire, but you need to roll up your window."

"Oh, all right," Pansy grumbled. She sighed dramatically and settled her head on Harry's shoulder. "Nobody loves me," she told him sadly, which he dearly hoped wasn't her way of inviting him to say he did.

"You're a menace," Malfoy told her. He and Zabini were squashed into seats that unfolded in the boot of the car. Apparently, it was their favorite place to ride. Ella sat on Harry's other side, sulking out the window.

Harry put an arm around her. "Go on, El, don't be sad. Mal – Draco will hold your hand in Diagon Alley. Ow!"

"Draco" had slapped the back of Harry's head. "Won't you, Draco?" Harry said pointedly, removing his arm from Ella's shoulders and rubbing his head.

"Really, Draco?" Ella added, turning around and beaming at him.

"Course I will," Malfoy muttered. "I may also kill your brother, but I'll hold your hand while I do it."

"If you kill Harry, Uncle Dumb will get you," Ella said comfortably. "Or Uncle Remus. Or Pansy. Or the Aurors. Or Daddy."

"I enjoy being at the end of the list of people who will avenge my son's murder," Snape muttered to Lily.

"Be grateful he's so well-loved," Lily countered, patting Snape's cheek. "El, it's your turn to pick the radio station."

They listened to teeny-bopper Christmas tunes Harry wished he'd never heard all the way to London. Snape parked right outside the Leaky Cauldron, which was illegal as far as Harry could tell. He wanted to bring it up but thought that Snape probably knew what he was doing.

They went into the pub together, Pansy gripping Harry's hand and Ella gripping Malfoy's. Snape had his arm around Lily.

"I feel so alone," Zabini said, smirking at Malfoy.

"I bet El would love it if you held her hand, too," Malfoy said innocently. Ella giggled and held out her hand. Zabini glowered at Malfoy and took Ella's other hand.

"You two behave yourselves properly," Snape ordered, glaring over his shoulder at the boys.

"There's no winning, is there?" Zabini muttered as Ella swung their hands enthusiastically back and forth.

"No, there isn't," Snape said, stopping suddenly.

"Oh, Sev," Lily said. She looked tense. "Kids, go on into Diagon Alley. We'll meet you in Quality Quidditch."

"Why, what's wrong?" Malfoy asked curiously.

"Go on," Lily said firmly.

Harry shrugged. "Come on," he said. Whatever was bugging his mum, he wasn't going to make it worse. He pulled Pansy across the bar with him. The others followed. They were at the entrance to the little courtyard when Harry glanced back. He froze.

"Oh, it's Professor Potter," Pansy murmured. "God, he really is a dish, isn't he?"

Harry's mouth had gone dry. He stared and couldn't stop.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" Pansy asked softly. "No, go on, you lot," she said, presumably to Zabini, Malfoy, and Ella. "We'll be there in a minute."

Harry was already walking, moving back toward Snape and Lily. "Harry," Pansy said again. "Your mum said to go."

"It's – but it's – " Harry stared.

James Potter stood facing Snape and Lily, his arms crossed over his chest. He was everything Harry had always imagined him to be as an adult. A pang shot through Harry's heart, taking his breath away. This man was supposed to be his dad. He glanced at Snape.

"Harry, your mum said go on," Snape said, not taking his eyes off James.

"I couldn't," Harry said faintly.

"I tried, sir," Pansy said in a small voice, gripping Harry's hand. Harry felt a hand resting on his shoulder. His mum pressed her other hand to Pansy's.

"It's fine, Sev," she said coolly. "All right, Potter?"

"Fine, Lily," James Potter said, his voice just shy of icy. "You?"

"Never been better," she said softly. "Are you going to pick a fight in the middle of a pub, then?"

"That's more Snivvy's style, isn't it?" James asked her, raising an eyebrow. Harry glanced at Snape, saw his hands ball into fists.

"He's not picking fights with anyone." A woman who looked very familiar to Harry but who he couldn't quite place appeared beside James. "Jamie?" she added in a low voice.

Someone Harry did recognize stepped up beside the two of them.

"Neville?" Harry said without thinking. He realized this was poor form – he was in Slytherin and there was no imaginable universe in which Neville would be there, too.

"Hi, Snape." To Harry's amazement, Neville grinned a little at him. He frowned when he looked at Snape. "Hi, Professor."

"Potter," Snape said in a tone Harry remembered very, very well.

"Dad," Harry said under his breath, the need to protect Neville overpowering. "Back off." He glanced at James, then at Neville, and his pulse quickened. Neville was undoubtedly the boy Harry knew from his own world. Even the round spectacles on his nose didn't change that. Now Harry was looking more closely, though, he saw how much this familiar Neville looked like James Potter. He also looked like the woman who stood beside them.

"Hi, Alice," Lily said cautiously.

"All right, Lily?" Alice grinned comfortably at her. Harry realized she was Neville's mum when she smiled. He remembered her from a few visits he'd had with Neville at St. Mungos. She looked – she looked really good. And the way she stood with James and Neville meant she wasn't Longbottom, but Potter. "Any plans for Christmas?"

"We've got the lot right now," Lily said, relaxing a little and smiling hesitantly at Alice. "Window shopping and then to my parents' house."

"Rumor was Parkinson set the curtains on fire last time," Neville said, smirking at Pansy.

"Bite me, Potter," Pansy said, convincing no one of her innocence. "Harry, tell him it wasn't true."

Harry shrugged. "All right, it wasn't true."

"Very convincing," Neville said. He and Harry shared another smile. "Fancy Slytherin's chances in the Quidditch Cup this year?"

"As good as anyone else's, I guess," Harry said. James snorted, Harry flinched, Snape growled under his breath, and Lily and Alice hissed their husbands' names under their breath.

"Got something against Slytherin … sir?" Harry said to James.

"Oh, the lists I could make, Mr. Snape," James said, staring hard at Harry.

"But you're a professor," Harry said blankly.

"Tell that to your dad," James retorted and Harry had to change the subject before his heart exploded into a thousand disappointed pieces.

"Fancy Gryffindors' chances, then?" Harry said to Neville, his voice forcefully calm. Lily's hand pressed into his shoulder.

"We're good," Neville said, glancing at James. James grinned fiercely at him and Harry wanted to shout, No, you've got the wrong son! "Although," he added, "we'd be a lot better if Malfoy hadn't crippled our Keeper last game."

"By crippled," Lily began, frowning at Harry. Harry, who didn't know the story, was happy to leave it to Pansy.

"Bloody Weasley doesn't know a Quaffle from a large rock," Harry's girlfriend snapped. "Draco's a Chaser, he was aiming for a goal. Weasley's a giant target up there."

"Oy," Neville said calmly. "Malfoy was flying to collide."

"Ref didn't see it that way," Pansy said.

"How much did you pay her?"

"Prove I did."

"Whoa," Harry jumped in.

"Neville," Alice said.

"Sorry, Mum," Neville grumbled.

"Sorry, Professor and Mrs. Lily," Pansy grumbled. She grinned at James. "Sorry, Professor Potter," she added in highly inappropriate tones.

"If anyone were going to pay off a ref, Miss Parkinson, it would be you," James said, narrowing his eyes at Pansy. She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, my god, Pansy." Harry grabbed her hand before she could jump James. "We're going away now."

"What's the rush?" she asked.

"You want the Slytherin Seeker to kill himself?" Harry demanded, looking directly at his dad when he said it and wishing he hadn't when James didn't say No! Stop! Don't! "Mum, we'll see you in the Alley. Bye … Potter," he added, nodding to Neville.

"See you on the pitch, Snape," Neville said cheerfully. "Parkinson, you're so common."

"I'll scratch your eyes out," Pansy snarled as Harry muscled her out of the bar. "I will wound Potter, mark my words," she hissed, shrugging Harry off as they arrived in the little courtyard.

"I don't doubt it," Harry muttered, pulling out his wand and tapping the right brick. "Should I be worried I have competition?" he asked pointedly, trying hard to take his mind off James.

"I hope you're not suggesting I fancy Neville Potter," Pansy snapped, dropping Harry's hand.

"Not him; his – his dad," Harry said. He couldn't call the man Professor Potter any more than he could comfortably call Snape Dad.

"Oh, please," Pansy said, relaxing and rolling her eyes. "All us girls fancy Professor Potter. Transfiguration is my favorite class."

"Lovely," Harry muttered.

"You know, you look a bit like him," Pansy said, glancing at Harry.

"Do I?" Harry asked, suddenly interested. Pansy smirked at him and Harry scowled. "Shut up, Parkinson."

They found Malfoy, Zabini, and Ella outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, noses glued to the window. They looked away long enough to hear that Snape and James hadn't started a brawl (they all looked disappointed), then returned their noses to the glass.

"It's only because of your dad that I have my Firebolt," Malfoy said, presumably to Harry. "I mean, because my dad didn't want your dad to beat him at anything."

"You're welcome?" Harry hazarded.

"Yeah, well," Malfoy said, returning to the window. "No reason for him to bother getting me that now, is there?"

"That" was a magnificent new model broom in the window.

"What does Firebolt need another model for?" Zabini wanted to know. "They just released original three years ago."

"Shut up," Harry and Malfoy told him, leaning on the window again. Harry welcomed anything that took his mind off his dad.

"I'm bored," Ella said, removing her nose from the glass. "Who cares what kind of broom it is as long as it flies?"

"You're a good girl," Zabini told her. "Let's go get ice cream."

"Really?"

"Me, too," Pansy said, pulling away from Harry and sounded disgusted. "He never looks at me that way," Harry heard her mutter to Zabini.

"That's why you should have picked me, baby," Zabini said. Their voices drifted away and Harry realized it was just him and Malfoy now.

"Figures Zabini would ditch us for girls," Malfoy said after several minutes of silent staring at the broom.

Harry had no idea what to say to that, so because he was a masochist he settled with, "Umm … Park – I mean, Pansy said I look like Professor Potter."

"I'm very, very sorry for you," Malfoy said, glancing at Harry and shaking his head. "The old man's mad! I'm amazed I survive five minutes in bloody Transfiguration." He turned back to the window. "Reckon I could smash my Firebolt into the Whomping Willow and Dad would get me this beauty?"

"Firebolts come with Unbreakable Breaking Charms," Harry pointed out, grateful to Malfoy unintentionally saving Harry from his tendency to wallow in misery. "Whomping Willow won't be able to do much with it."

"Ruin my fun," Malfoy grumbled. "Come on, I'm depressing myself staring at this thing. Let's go get ice cream."

They found Snape, in a spitting rage he was trying to hide from everyone behind a twitching eye, and Lily, who looked exasperated, before they got to Florean Fortescue's.

"You know what would really make my day?" Snape was saying (spitting, more like). "Weasleys."

"Hi, Mum," Harry said, figuring that he'd better say it as many times as he could before the whole bizarre universe caved in on itself and he had to put Lily back in her grave forever (the thought made his stomach twist).

"Hi, love," she said, turning her frown at Snape into a smile at Harry and Malfoy. "You boys all done at Quality Quidditch?"

"For now," Malfoy said darkly. "Since Harry won't help me smash my Firebolt into the Whomping Willow."

"Why would you smash your Firebolt, Draco?" Snape demanded, scowling at the world in general. Two kids who looked like they might have been from Hogwarts took one look at Snape, squealed, and ran away.

"Sev, my god," Lily muttered. "Harry, where's Ella?"

"Zabini took her to ice cream," Harry said without thinking.

Malfoy snorted. "That hacked off about it, are you?"

"What?"

"Zabini?" Malfoy demanded. "Since when do you call him that?"

"Shut up," Harry muttered. "Anyway, Pansy went with them."

Snape nodded. "See that she does. Don't trust Zabini."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You lot have anything else you want to do here or shall we go to Gran and Granddad's? I've gone right off Diagon Alley."

Harry frowned. "Mum … Draco," he added after a pause. "Can I have a word with Dad?"

"What's wrong?" Lily asked immediately.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Just – guy stuff."

Malfoy snickered. Harry gave in to baser instincts and slugged him in the arm.

"Oy!" Malfoy howled.

"Harry," Lily said, frowning at him. "Come on, Draco," she said. "Let's get you some ice cream to make your arm feel better."

"At least someone around here loves me," Malfoy grumbled, rubbing his arm and letting Lily lead him away.

And suddenly, Harry was alone with Snape. Snape rubbed a hand over his eyes. "What is it, mate?" he asked after a moment's pause.

Harry thought carefully for a minute. "Look … Dad," he said, pleased that he hadn't winced at all this time. "I know you have issues with James Potter." He tripped a little over the name.

"You have no idea," Snape mumbled, a tick starting in his forehead.

"I do, actually," Harry said more sharply than he meant to. Snape's eyes fixed on him and Harry had a horrible flashback of fifth year Occlumency training. He looked over Snape's shoulder. "Which isn't the point, so never mind. It's just – don't ruin Christmas for Mum, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Snape asked him, arms crossed.

"I just mean," Harry said carefully, "you're not sixteen anymore. Let James Potter go. He – he doesn't matter." Biggest lie Harry'd ever told, but still … "You're not competing anymore. I mean, you don't have to. You and – I mean, you have a sixteen year old son yourself and you're setting a bad example."

"Am I being morally lectured by a Slytherin?" Snape said slowly. Harry risked a look directly at the man and saw his lip twitching.

"Fine, whatever, pick fights with the bloke in the teacher's lounge at school," Harry backpedaled. "But don't ruin Mum's Christmas. I expect she doesn't like thinking about – about him and he doesn't matter anymore anyway because you got her and he didn't." Saying all of that hurt Harry but in this universe, it was true. In this universe, Harry wasn't a Potter. Snape had to let James go – so, for the moment, did Harry.

He had his mum, though, Harry reminded himself. And as long as he did, everything would be perfect for her. As perfect as he could make it.

An unreadable look crossed Snape's face, closely followed by an unexpectedly brilliant smile. Harry almost jumped. "You're bloody right, mate," Snape said. "Come on." He steered Harry toward the ice cream parlor. "I expect I have some Yuletide apologizing to do."

"And promise you won't fight with Professor Potter in front of Mum anymore," Harry said, unable to stop himself.

"All right, all right, Professor McGonagall," Snape muttered. He threw a sharp look at Harry. "If she finds out I said that, I'll know who to ground for the rest of his natural life."

Harry smirked. "I wouldn't dream of saying a word."

Snape snorted. "Yeah, that I believe."

Harry's smirk became a frown. "Oh, look, it's your lucky day. A merry band of Weasleys."

Fortunately, there were only four. Mrs. Weasley was leading Ginny and Ron down the street. Mr. Weasley wandered behind them, looking gloomy. Harry's gut twisted. Ginny looked exactly as he remembered her – long hair, big smile, bright eyes. Her eyes darkened noticeably when she saw him and Harry threw all his will-power into keeping his face blank.

"Come on, Dad," Harry mumbled, pulling Snape with him up the street.

"Professor!"

Harry and Snape groaned in tandem and turned back. Mrs. Weasley was hurrying toward them, smiling brightly. Harry bit his lip – at least his real-life mother-in-law didn't hate his guts, even if his wife did and brother-in-law did. Ron glowered at him and sent a rude gesture his way behind his Mum's back. Snape didn't miss the gesture – he gestured back, presumably that he'd seen Ron and would punish him properly when they all got back to Hogwarts.

"Oh, Professor Snape!" Mrs. Weasley shocked Harry by gushing. "I just wanted to thank you so much!"

"Not at all," Snape said, rather stiffly.

"You don't know what this means to our family, and for Percy, of course!" Mrs. Weasley went on. "However did you manage it?"

"I know a few people in the Aurors," Snape said vaguely.

"We're all so proud of Percy," Mrs. Weasley said. She smiled. "And this must be Harry."

Harry had another horrible moment of unreality. How could there be a universe in which he didn't know Mrs. Weasley?

"It is," Snape said shortly. "Harry, this is Molly Weasley. You met her son Percy last month."

"Oh, right," Harry said. In fact, he'd had Percy's entire family to supper last month.

"Your father," Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at Harry, "got my son a job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He's the youngest hit wizard there!"

"Congratulations," seemed a safe response. Harry saw Ron roll his eyes and made an effort not to speak directly to him.

"And I believe you know my son and daughter from school, Harry," Mrs. Weasley went on.

"Um, yeah."

"He might not have mentioned that it was his best mate that put me in hospital last Quidditch match," Ron said loudly.

Harry noticed Mr. Weasley staying well back from this exchange.

"Sorry about that," Harry said. "Dad, Mum's probably waiting."

"Right," Snape said with a grateful nod in Harry's direction. "Mrs. Weasley, it was nice to see you."

"And you, Professor," she said, shaking his hand vigorously. "A happy Christmas to you."

"And to you," Snape said. "Come on, Harry."

Harry could feel Ginny and Ron glowering at his back. Then he heard, "Nev! Hi, mate!" He glanced back once, in time to see Ron pound Neville on the back and Neville kiss Ginny, who turned bright red. And there went Harry's appetite for the rest of his life.

"If you hate Weasleys, why did you get Percy that job?" Harry asked Snape, just to take his mind off things.

Snape shifted. "I don't hate Weasleys. I just don't like them much is all. Percy was a bright student and has potential. No reason not to help him. His siblings …" Snape shuddered. "Thank Merlin I finally got rid of those bleeding twins. God only knows what they're planning for the wizarding world now they're graduated."

It took Harry a minute before he figured out that Fred and George didn't have Harry's thousand Galleon prize from the Triwizard Cup as startup for Weasley Wizard Wheezes. They would probably need a few more years to get together the money to buy their own shop. He also felt a jolt when he realized that in this universe, Fred was alive.

Harry and Snape met the others at Florean Fortescue's. Unsurprisingly, given the cold, they'd all forgone ice cream for hot chocolate.

"If anyone at Hogwarts finds out we drink hot chocolate, we're blaming Harry," Zabini suggested. He was drinking his through a brightly colored straw.

"Charming," Harry said, taking a cup from his mum. "Who cares what we drink?"

"Harry!" Malfoy said in shocked tones. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Saying "who gives a toss about reputations?" was a throwback to middle-aged Harry that probably wasn't wise, so Harry nodded. "Of course, silly me."

"I like hot chocolate," Ella told the unsurprised multitudes. "Does that make me a Hufflepuff?"

"Don't say terrible things about yourself, El," Malfoy said, putting an arm around her shoulders as the group headed back toward the Leaky Cauldron.

)DREAM(

They made it back to Snape's car, miraculously not impounded, without seeing anyone else Harry knew. After seeing James Potter, Ginny, and Ron, Harry didn't think he could cope with any more reunions (the possible exception being his godfather, who might be able to rescue him from this insane universe).

When they reached Lily's parents' house, Lily held Harry back while the others went to the front door.

"Are you all right, love?" she asked, pressing a soft hand to Harry's cheek.

"I don't know," he said honestly, fighting the urge to lean into her hand and embarrass himself in front of Malfoy and Zabini again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I think – I think maybe I'll speak to Dum – I mean, Uncle Dumb about it," Harry said, the words feeling funny in his mouth. Calling Dumbledore uncle had quite literally never occurred to him before.

Lily looked surprised and, if possible, more concerned. "Is something the matter?"

"I don't know," he said again. "I don't think so but … I need some advice. From him, I mean." He felt awful. He wanted to speak to her about it but … "I'll talk to you after I talk to him."

"Are you sure – "

"Honestly, Mum, I feel great," he said, smiling and mostly meaning it. Having Lily back, alive and happy, having a sister, no sign of dark lords or evil or anything. A big part of him did feel really good.

"You're being honest with me?"

"I am."

She studied him a moment. "Okay," she said at last. "All right, then. Let's go see Gran and Granddad."

"You mean, let's make sure Pansy doesn't set anything on fire and Draco isn't eaten by a snake?" Harry offered, squeezing her hand because it was there and he could.

Lily laughed, shaking her head. "Pansy doesn't have her wand this time and your dad's protecting Draco." She threw him a smile. "I don't mean to sound like your father, but your friends really are mad."

"You don't have to tell me that," Harry muttered. He frowned. "I had no idea he was afraid of snakes."

"Who, Draco?" Lily asked, still smiling. "You really didn't know?"

"Really," Harry said. He grinned a little. "What kind of Slytherin is afraid of snakes?"

They stepped into the house and were assaulted by roars of laughter and a crash.

"I think she's behind the sofa!" came a crackling voice.

Ella's shriek was unmistakable. "Get her tail, Daddy!"

Malfoy's shriek was also unmistakable. "I'm going to faint!"

Pansy said, "Blaise, you catch Draco. I'm frail and he'll break me if he falls."

Zabini grumbled.

Harry and Lily glanced at each other and hurried toward the source of the noise. Four people were running around the living room, jumping over furniture and peering under it. Malfoy was standing on the arm of the sofa, swaying and looking green. Zabini was standing by Malfoy with one eye on him and another following the people running about.

In a second, Harry saw what they were after as it darted out from behind the sofa. Without thinking, he dove at it and heard a wheeze as he landed on top of it. He felt it squirm but held on. The noise in the room ceased as everyone turned to watch Harry reel his capture into his lap, hand over hand.

At last, six feet of python lay coiled over his legs. The poor snake looked a bit flatter than it probably liked and Harry felt its struggle for freedom end.

"Good snake," Harry said, petting her head. "Nice snake."

Since he wasn't a Parselmouth because in this universe he'd never been Voldemort's Horcrux, the words sounded silly and everyone laughed. Harry preferred that to the alternative, which would probably have scared Ella.

"Good save, m'boy." The crackling voice Harry had heard belonged to a slightly bow-legged man in a reindeer jumper.

"Thanks, Granddad," Harry said, knowing immediately and instinctively who the man had to be.

"See, Lil? He could have been an explorer with me if he hadn't gone off to magic school," Harry's grandpa said, relieving Harry of the snake. Because Harry was a good person, he went to help Malfoy off the arm of the sofa.

"Wizarding school, Daddy," Lily corrected. She had Ella in her arms; the girl looked fascinated and worried at the sight of the snake coiled around her grandpa.

"Whatever it is, and bleeding far away, too."

"I like it there," Harry said automatically. "And – and my dad's there and everything."

Snape grinned at him and Harry realized he was adjusting to the look. Harry's grandma, a head or so taller than her husband, beamed up at Snape and put an arm around him. "I wouldn't let my grandchildren go off to wizarding school in Scotland if you weren't there, dear."

Snape looked as if he appreciated this immensely. "Thank you, Mother." Harry remembered that Snape's own family was at best, dysfunctional (at worst, abusive).

He's just like me, Harry realized. He would have given anything for a proper family. The only difference is that I eventually got one and he never did.

"Now you're finished wrestling man-eating beasts, Harry," his grandma said (thoughtfully ignoring Malfoy's wheeze of terror), "come give your gran a hug."

Harry did. He thought, given her age, he'd have to be a bit careful, but she had strong arms and gave him a good squeeze. She kissed both his cheeks, leaving behind a bit of lipstick and lavender scent. "How's term going, then?"

"Good, I guess," Harry said.

"Studying hard?" She eyed him shrewdly.

"Of course," he said, glancing at Snape. "He wouldn't let me do otherwise, would he?"

"See that you don't, Severus." Harry's grandma gave Snape a stern look.

"He toes the line, for the most part," Snape acknowledged. "I wish his grades were up to Blaise's, though."

Zabini, who had appropriated the python from Harry's grandpa, glanced up and grinned, clearly pleased with the praise. "Harry's brain just isn't as high quality as mine, Professor," he said, as though imparting terrible news to a patient on his death bed. "It's a shame."

"I'm quite slow, it's true," Harry agreed, narrowing his eyes at Zabini. Malfoy snorted, still as far away from the snake as it was possible to be in the sitting room.

"Oh, for god's sake, Joe, put Mrs. Dr. away," Harry's grandma said, throwing a sympathetic look at Malfoy. "She looks exhausted and so does poor Draco."

"Poor Draco" went red and looked distraught and relieved at the same time. Ella clambered down from her mother's arms and approached Zabini cautiously. "It's okay," he said, kneeling down with the weight of Mrs. Dr. Watson across his shoulders. "She's nice."

"You're quite a herpetologist, Blaise," Harry's grandpa said. "Fancy taking a year off magic and coming to Africa with me?"

Blaise looked intrigued, Snape threw a look at Lily, and Lily said quickly, "Absolutely not, Dad."

"Because if Blaise's mum comes after me … well, let's just say I'd prefer facing down your aunt Bellatrix in Knockturn Alley at midnight, Draco," Snape muttered to Harry and Malfoy. Harry and Malfoy glanced at each other and looked quickly away, stifling laughter into their hands.

Once Mrs. Dr. Watson was safety in her terrarium and Malfoy wasn't cowering in the corner, Harry's granddad got tea and they all sat down in the dining room. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much. He also realized his grandpa was completely mad. Harry wasn't bothered by it – it was good to know. One little nugget to add to his limited knowledge of his family.

He watched Ella toss a biscuit into the air and catch it in her mouth. Lily scolded but then Harry's gran picked up a biscuit and tried the same thing, which led the lot of them to biscuit tossing. Harry was a little shocked to realize that Snape was best at it.

He was also shocked when he realized that he wasn't ready to leave this universe quite yet. Everyone was smiling and comfortable and full to bursting with biscuits.

Then a knock came at the door and Harry's gran said, "Oh, that must be Petunia."

Harry glanced quickly at his mum. She looked at once excited and nervous and Harry wondered, in this strange world in which Lily was alive and well, how she and her sister got on.

They heard voices in the entryway.

"Harry, do you reckon your cousins will be here?" Pansy murmured.

"No idea," Harry said honestly. He didn't even know who his cousins would be. He assumed Dudley would be one of them, but who knew if Aunt Petunia had married Uncle Vernon. A small part of Harry decided that to assume otherwise was wishful thinking. Too many good things existed already in this alternate reality – best not to expect too much.

Harry watched as Lily got slowly to her feet. Snape stayed where he was, but gave Lily's hand, hanging loose at her side, a small squeeze. Harry glanced at Ella. Ella was chewing her lip, on the edge of some emotion Harry couldn't read. Malfoy was watching Ella, too. He reached over and put an arm around her shoulders. She beamed up at him.

Harry suddenly realized how badly Malfoy must have wanted siblings. Harry also realized that now he knew what he was missing, he would probably feel that way for the rest of his life. Assuming, of course, he got back to his old life.

They all heard the front door open. Harry could identify Aunt Petunia's voice from years and years of experience, though he couldn't hear what she was saying. A minute later, Harry's grandma led Aunt Petunia and her family into the room.

Harry was mightily relieved that the man she stood with wasn't Vernon Dursley. He was tall and very thin, slightly balding, and with a mustache. He looked very … keen was the word that came to Harry.

"Severus!" the tall man who was Aunt Petunia's husband said, beaming at Snape and grasping his hand in an enthusiastic hand shake. "Good to see you, old chap!"

"Henry," Snape said stiffly, returning the hand shake.

Lily, meanwhile, was greeting the two boys who had followed Henry and Aunt Petunia into the room. Neither of them looked like Dudley, Harry noticed immediately. Both were thin, like their father, and were dressed in vastly different ways. One was in a suit that looked like a school uniform. The other was dressed like a member of the Sex Pistols and was giving Pansy a once-over. Pansy sneered at him and inched closer to Harry, who automatically put his arm around her.

"Severus," Aunt Petunia said, her lips pursed. Apparently in this alternate universe, Snape and Aunt Petunia disliked each other just as much as in Harry's world.

"Petunia," Snape said, nodding and not moving to touch her in any way. "Hello, boys," he said in a warmer voice to Harry's unknown cousins.

"Hello, Uncle Severus," said the one in a suit, holding out a stiff hand. Snape's lip twitched as he took the proffered hand. Harry noticed Aunt Petunia giving that boy a fond look very like the ones she used to give Dudley.

"Wotcher, Uncle Sev!" the other boy said, and Harry was amazed when the boy gave Snape a backslapping hug. Snape pulled back, grinning down at the boy.

"All right, Dev?" he asked.

"Do a trick, Uncle," Dev ordered, letting Lily kiss him on the cheek and ruffle his hair.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"I'll do a trick," Zabini offered. "Oh, wait, you took all our wands away, Professor," he added pointedly.

"You're a wizard, then?" Dev demanded, sizing Zabini up. Harry saw Aunt Petunia wince at the world 'wizard.' Her husband continued to look … keen.

"They all are," Harry cut in. "Blaise is one of the best in our year." He assumed, given what Snape had said earlier.

Zabini grinned at Harry, his whole face lighting up. "I just like Transfig is all."

"Where are your … wands? Is that what you use?" Dev asked. He went to sit near Zabini and Malfoy, ruffling Ella's hair on his way by. "Harry won't ever let me see his."

Pansy snorted into a napkin and Harry glared at her. "You're sick," he whispered.

"You're maroon," she retorted, kissing his burning cheek.

"According to wizarding law, Harry and his classmates are too young to do magic outside of school," Snape cut in. He did pull out his wand and handed it to Dev.

"What are you doing?" Aunt Petunia began.

"It's okay, Tuney," Lily said quietly, speaking for the first time. "Dev's non-magical. He won't be able to make anything happen. He's quite safe."

Aunt Petunia glared at Lily for a moment.

"Do a trick," Dev repeated, handing Snape's wand back. Snape glanced at Aunt Petunia, who was glowering at him. Her other son stood close to her, looking nervous. Harry felt sorry for them.

"Make it small," Lily murmured.

"Why not a whopper?" Granddad cut in, looking eager. "Go on, Severus is a professor. He knows what he's about."

Snape looked mildly gratified at this praise. He thought a moment, then waved his wand. A magnificent bouquet of white roses exploded from the wand and landed on the table between Lily and Harry's grandma.

"Ah!" they both said.

"Thanks, Sev." Lily beamed at him. "Shall I put these in a vase, then, Mum?"

"What, they're real?" Dev demanded, hurrying over to examine them. "They're not, like, a trick or illusion or something?"

"They're real," Snape said as Lily stood, kissed him cheek, and went into the kitchen. "I just conjured them from somewhere else."

"How do you know where they came from?" Dev's brother asked, sidling away from his mother's protective arm and moving closer to his uncle. He eyed the flowers, now in a pretty vase, as Lily returned and set them on a side table.

"I don't, really," Snape admitted, his eyes on Lily. "Probably from someone's rose garden."

Harry wanted to laugh at the look on Aunt Petunia's face. He assumed she was worrying about her rose garden.

"So you're a Muggle," Malfoy said, his eyes fixed on Dev.

"I think so," Dev said, glancing at Lily. She smiled, though she shot a warning look at Malfoy.

"No, I think that's cool," Malfoy said, trying the words out to see if they agreed with him. "I'm open-minded."

Snape had a momentary coughing fit and Malfoy glared at him.

"That's cool," Dev said. "Want some water, Uncle Sev?"

"What if you stole the flowers from somewhere?" his brother said, clearly still fixated on this idea.

"Don't worry, Peter," Lily said gently. "Sev would have to intend to steal them from somewhere specific. Honestly, these flowers probably came from Gran's winter rose garden outside."

"That spell pulls from nature," Snape explained. His voice was remarkably patient and gentle, Harry noticed, as he addressed his skittish nephew. "It's not going to recognize a bouquet from the florists as nature, is it?"

"No?" Peter looked relieved. Harry had the sudden impression that here stood a boy very like Percy – rule-oriented and scared the world would end if he stepped out of line at all. Probably got that from Aunt Petunia.

"Promise," Snape said with a smile. Aunt Petunia scowled at him and Snape's lips pursed.

"What're you all still standing around for?" Granddad demanded, getting to his feet. "Come sit down, take some tea."

Dev went immediately to sit with Malfoy and Zabini, who regarded him as though he were a fascinating new magical creature that might have interesting powers. Peter went and sat gingerly between Lily and Ella. Ella gave him a sideways hug and said, "Don't worry. I can't have a wand until I'm eleven." Peter seemed pleased to hear this.

Henry took a seat beside Snape, clapped him on the shoulder, and began asking him what he thought about Muggle economics. Aunt Petunia went to sit between her parents, saying, "Daddy," in a world-weary tone when her father said things like, "I brought a lovely python back from South America, my dear. What to see her?"

Harry sat quietly, listening to his family and friends chatter and laugh and slowly relax around the table. It was so different than being with the Weasleys. On his left were his sister and Mum. His. On his right, his father (that would never sit right, but Harry realized how attached he was to the idea of having a dad, even if it was Snape). Across the table sat his grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins.

These people were his. A proper family. He sat soaking it in and trying not to think. There were too many complicated thoughts clambering around in his head, about wanting to be in this universe, about his children, about his wife, about his mum …

"You all right?" Pansy murmured, squeezing his hand.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. He hesitated. "I have something I have to talk to my godfather about."

"Something bad?" Pansy asked, eyes widening a little.

"No, no!" Harry promised hastily. "Just – complicated."

"We tell each other everything," Pansy whispered. "Can't you tell me?"

He shook his head, surprised but not doubtful. He had started dating Ginny at this age and it felt like he'd told her most things. "Maybe later. I really need to talk to Dumble – Uncle Dumb first."

She didn't look happy about it but she didn't push him, either. She returned her attention to Ella and Peter, with an occasional laugh at Zabini and Malfoy, who were making up wildly inaccurate stories for Dev, who didn't seem to care if they were true and was looking extremely impressed. Harry fell to watching his family some more, holding back the mental clamber and enjoying the sunshine through the windows from the backyard, the Christmas tree all lit up and just visible in the sitting room, the roaring old-fashioned wood stove that wrapped the rooms in a blanket of warm air, the laughter of Ella … somehow, even though he knew it had to end sometime, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving.

Harry didn't say much during the rest of his visit with his grandparents. Mostly, he watched, trying to remember every movement, every action, both of his grandparents and his immediate family, even Snape. He tried, too, to remember his friends. The Slytherins he had always loathed, who had caused so much damage in the time Harry remembered. Now here they were, talking and laughing with Muggles and Muggleborns.

Where had this world come from? How was Harry in it and who had brought him? He had thought before it was a hallucination. As his relatives and friends' words and laughter filled his heart and mind, he knew somehow that this was as real as the world he knew so well.

)DREAM(

"Harry."

They were in the car home, crammed in as before, only this time Pansy had weaseled her way into the boot with Ella and was bribing her to be friends with more chocolate. Ella looked betrayed and tempted all at once.

Harry looked up from his hands. Snape was staring at him over his shoulder. Lily was at the wheel this time.

"Looking a little lost there, mate," Snape said. "You okay?"

"Oh," Harry said vaguely. "Yeah." Then he realized that Malfoy and Zabini were staring at him too. "Just … thinking what to ask Santa for Christmas."

Malfoy snorted.

"What are you asking Santa for this year, Draco?" Lily asked, her eyes twinkling at the blond in the rearview mirror.

"Santa, nothing," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I ask Father's personal shopper."

Snape and Lily exchanged looks and Harry had a sudden flashback to last Christmas, when Scorpius Malfoy had turned up to talk to Harry at Godric's Hollow and his father had told him about the Department of Mysteries investigating a code-named "Saint Nick."

"Nice cover," Harry said to sixteen-year-old Draco, who nudged him. "Go on, what do you want for Christmas?"

"A girl," Draco said immediately. He caught Lily's warning look in the rearview mirror and Pansy's swat over the head with a mitten and yelped, "No! Not like that! I mean, like, a girlfriend."

"Oh." Lily smiled at him and Malfoy went pink. Then he said, "Shut up laughing, Professor."

"Sev, be nice," Lily ordered. "Draco, you're handsome, smart, and charming. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"Except Ella!" shouted Harry and Snape at the same time.

"See, Pans?" Malfoy said, grinning over his shoulder. "Any woman would be lucky to have me."

"That I believe," Pansy said with an unladylike snort.

"What about you, Blaise?" Snape asked.

"Dunno," Blaise said, shrugging. "My mum's got a personal shopper, too. I don't think much about Christmas."

Harry saw Lily's eyebrows draw together, a worry line appearing between them. "I hope you're having fun with us today, Blaise."

"Are you kidding?" Blaise said. "Mrs. Lily, your family's mad and I love it."

"Good," Lily said, strained expression easing. "A bit of madness is good for growing boys."

They pulled into the driveway and piled out, shivering their way to the house. The weather had turned suddenly chilly, with a wind just cold enough to blow right through a winter cloak and the light waning from afternoon to evening. Snape unlocked the door and went straight into the living room. A minute later, they heard a fire burst into life.

"Me me me!" Pansy shoved Zabini out of her way and charged into the sitting room, Ella on her heels.

"Go get warm," Lily told the three boys as they shrugged out of their cloaks and kicked off their boots. "I'll make some peppermint hot chocolate." She ruffled Harry's hair in passing and went off to the kitchen."

"You unfairly win the award for best mum ever," Malfoy grumbled at him.

"I do, don't I?" Harry murmured, grinning to himself.

"At least he shares," Zabini pointed out to Malfoy.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever Malfoy was about to say.

"Harry, get that, will you?" Snape called from the kitchen. "It's probably godfathers."

Harry almost yanked the door off its hinges.

"Good afternoon, Harry."

Remus Lupin, shabby as ever but very much alive, stood in the doorway. After a moment of Harry gaping like an idiot, Lupin said, "Would you mind terribly if I came in? It's a bit nippy out here."

"Oh, of course!" Harry stepped quickly back and Lupin came in, rubbing his hands together vigorously. "Draco, Blaise, how are you, boys?" he said, noticing the Slytherins lurking behind Harry.

"Fine, sir," Malfoy said, looking a bit edgy. "I – I was just on my way to help Mrs. Lily with hot chocolate."

"Don't mind him, sir," Blaise said, holding out a hand to Lupin as Malfoy hurried off to the kitchen.

"It's all right," Lupin said with a sigh, accepting the proffered hand. "Draco's had his share of encounters with werewolves. It's understandable."

"When?" Harry asked without thinking.

"Well, Harry," Lupin said, looking surprised. "You know some of things his father gets up to. From what Severus tells me, Lucius still has some ambitions in the Dark Arts. Severus tells me he pays werewolves to come and be experimented on. Who knows why."

Harry stared at him.

"When Harry told us about what you are, sir," Blaise said in a low voice, "I thought Draco was having a heart attack. He'll get used to it, though, and sir, you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had. Everyone loves your classes." He frowned. "And obviously, Draco and I won't tell anyone what we know," he said hastily. "We don't want you sacked or anything."

"Thank you, Blaise," Lupin said, a genuinely pleased smile on his lips. "Harry? You all right?"

Apart from digesting news like Malfoy was terrorized by werewolves and his father was still completely mad, Harry was trying to adjust to seeing Lupin alive and well. It was so different than seeing Lily or even Snape. Harry had been close to Lupin up until he died – he'd never had a chance to be close to his mum or, obviously, Snape.

"Sorry, I'm fine," Harry said, blinking back into the present.

"Really, though, sir, he's been funny since breakfast," Zabini said, scrutinizing Harry. "Something's up, but he won't say." When Harry stared at him, Zabini shrugged and said, "Go on, mate, we all know you better than that."

He wandered off toward the delicious smell of melting chocolate coming from the kitchen.

Lupin's hand settled gently on Harry's shoulder. "You really okay?"

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead absently. "I am, only … I have to talk to Uncle Dumb about something."

"Can you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "I really need it to be him."

"That's all right." Lupin studied him a moment.

"Remus, is that you? What are you doing lurking around the door?"

"Sorry, just coming, Lils." Lupin patted Harry's shoulder. "I may not be your godfather, but I'm always here to help."

"Thanks," Harry said, his voice suddenly tight. "It's great to see you."

"You, too."

The touching moment was interrupted by Ella flying down the corridor from the kitchen and launching herself into her godfather's arms. "Pansy Parkinson is a sneak!" she announced around mouthful of chocolate. "She's trying to rot my teeth out so she can be prettier than me and so Harry will love her better."

"It's a regular conspiracy," Lupin exclaimed, kissing her cheek. He winked at Harry and went off into the kitchen with an armful of excitable goddaughter.

Another knock at the door made Harry jump. He paused, took a deep breath, and then pulled it open.

"Good evening, Harry." Albus Dumbledore smiled at him from out of the dark. "I heard your Floo was on the fritz so I thought I'd come by a more conventional route."

"Come in," Harry said automatically. After seeing Lupin alive and well, it was a bit easier to cope with Dumbledore. Still, Harry felt a little lightheaded.

Dumbledore swept it, divesting himself of his winter cloak and hanging it neatly on the coat rack beside Snape's. He turned back and studied Harry; that piercing, twinkling gaze Harry remembered so well, though it hadn't been fixed on him in years.

"I need to talk to you," he blurted out.

"I thought you might."

Harry wasn't sure if he was surprised or not. This was Dumbledore so he really oughtn't to be, he supposed.

"Albus!" Snape hurried down the hall, looking annoyed and relieved at once. "Come in, come in. We're just heating up chocolate."

"Sounds to me like perfection," Dumbledore said, shaking Snape's hand warmly. To Harry, they looked like old friends more than the belligerent but willing pupil and his stern but forgiving teacher. This was the relationship they should have had.

"Dad," Harry cut in before Dumbledore slipped away. "I need to talk to Du – to Uncle Dumb please."

"Do you?" Snape studied him a moment. "Perhaps that's best," he said after a moment. "You haven't been yourself today."

"I have been a bit," Harry grumbled. Dumbledore chuckled and Harry glanced quickly up at him.

"May I just have a word with my godson, Severus?" he said, settling a hand on Harry's shoulder. The familiar feeling, long forgotten, sent a ripple of shock through Harry. He swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat.

"Course," Snape said, staring back and forth between them. "Go ahead to the back room, then. Shall I send Ella in with chocolate?"

"No, no, we won't be long," Dumbledore amazed Harry by saying. "We'll come find our chocolate before it has time to get cold."

"All right, then." Snape retreated back to the kitchen.

"The back room, then, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently, nodding down the hall.

Harry shrugged and nodded, wandering down the hall, passed the kitchen and sitting room and hoping very much that a back room would present itself. He was in luck because the corridor ended in a room that was clearly another sitting room. This one had pine boughs hung around its walls and also had a warm fire blazing in the hearth. Harry sank into an armchair and Dumbledore seated himself comfortably on a pouf across from him.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked after Harry sat still staring at him for a full minute.

"I don't know where to begin," Harry began, stopping again to try and explain. If anyone would understand and not write him off as totally mad for claiming he had four children, a wife, and was head of the Aurors, it would be Dumbledore.

"Ask me the first question that comes to you," Dumbledore suggested.

"What am I doing here?" Harry blurted out. Charming – that would make sense.

Dumbledore didn't look confused or concerned about Harry's mental stability. He simply smiled. "Where else would you be?"

"With my wife." Harry felt like his brain was a burgeoning dam, crumbling under the strain of his confusion, horror, joy, and anxiety about the day in general. "With my children, in my house called Dobby Terrace with my godson Teddy sleeping downstairs and the Malfoys about to come round for supper Christmas Day."

"Ah." Dumbledore steepled his fingers, studying Harry. "That's your reality, is it?"

"I was so sure it was, this morning," Harry said helplessly. "I don't know how I got here. I thought it was a dream at first, but now ..."

"Remember what I said to you all those years ago … or was it yesterday?" Dumbledore murmured. "Just because something is happening inside your mind … does that make it any less real?"

"So I am dreaming!"

"As it happens, not exactly," Dumbledore said.

"What's this reality about then?" Harry demanded. "How did I get here?"

Dumbledore sighed and smiled, two small gestures that told Harry the old man was about to admit a shortcoming or mistake. "It's my doing, I'm afraid," he began. "A Christmas present."

"What?" Harry sank back into the armchair, wearied and angry. "How is any of this a Christmas present, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed again, the smile sliding away. "Every year," he said slowly, "you and your extraordinary young godson spend Christmas Eve making connections with your loved ones because you didn't get the chance to make them when they were alive."

Harry swallowed. That was true.

"Do you watch us?" he wanted to know.

"I am … aware of your actions," Dumbledore said. "As your parents and godfather are. Though the dead do not spend their time, such as it is, watching the living, they are always aware of their living loved ones and their lives. The spirits of the dead are never truly at rest until their living loved ones have joined them in the world beyond life, as you know it."

Harry nodded slowly. "What does that have to do with my being here, in this … whatever it is?"

"Alternate reality," Dumbledore supplied. "Infinite realities exist, reflecting every choice made, every possible life." He folded his hands and met Harry's eyes. "You may or may not be aware of this, Harry, but I owe you many debts that I can never repay. Debts of honor, of gratitude, of life. And I have not forgotten. I found a way to offer payment for a small portion of those debts and I chose to take it.

"This is an alternate reality I selected specifically for you, based on a life you could have had. If you hadn't been The Chosen One, if Voldemort had been destroyed by me, when he was young. I hunted through the trillions of scenarios and found this one. I know it's not your ideal but it's the ideal, the situation into which you might have been born, had you not suffered as a child."

"Why couldn't I be Harry Potter?" Harry demanded. "Why Snape?"

"Without the divide Severus created between himself and Lily when he attached himself to Pureblood lore and power, nothing would have kept him from your mother," Dumbledore said. "You saw, in your reality, his devotion to your mother throughout his life. He treated you shamefully, it is true. But to him, you were James' son, not Lily's. Here in this reality, you're his son as well as Lily's. Little wonder he adores you."

"And my sister."

Dumbledore smiled, wistful. "Lily wanted a daughter in your reality, too," he said. "Of course, she and James were overjoyed with their talented son but Lily spoke often of trying for a girl after Voldemort was defeated."

"What about Slytherin, sir?" Harry asked. "I mean, I've always felt Gryffindor to the core of who I am."

"Your House placement does not change who you are," Dumbledore told him. "Think, for a moment, about your first meeting with Draco Malfoy. Imagine if he hadn't had that argument with Ron Weasley – or if you hadn't been there to see it. Imagine if you had met Draco first and he'd offered to tell you all about Hogwarts. Imagine, too, if your father and his were acquaintances. Slytherin is not the House of evil, Harry. You know that."

"Of course I do!" Harry said, startled. "My daughter's in Slytherin. So are two or three of my nieces and nephews."

"You were almost placed in Slytherin during your Sorting," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Imagine if your first friend on the train were Draco Malfoy and your father, Severus, had raised you on as many stories about Slytherin as your mother told stories of Gryffindor. You get to choose your House, you know that. Which House would you have chosen?"

Harry nodded, slowly. His adult brain saw the gray area that his teenage brain never could have. His children and the children of his former classmates routinely demonstrated how blurred House lines were. Dumbledore had once said, I sometimes wonder if we Sort too soon. Since there were two possible and believable universes in which Harry was in Gryffindor and in Slytherin, he decided he'd have to agree with Dumbledore.

"How did you manage this, sir?" Harry wanted to know.

"As I told you, this is not quite a dream," Dumbledore told him. "Though you are, at this moment, asleep."

Dumbledore's eyes drifted to the fireplace behind Harry. Harry turned instinctively toward the flames and gasped. In the flickering light, he saw a flash of his bedroom at home, as he remembered it. He could just make out Matilda's crib and the shadow of Ginny, stretched out against the white linen. Harry could see his own body, sprawled on his stomach.

"However, this reality we're in now does exist," Dumbledore said, and the image in the flames vanished. "And it can be yours, if you wish it."

Something curled tight in the pit of Harry's stomach. "What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that if you wanted, you could stay forever in this world," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the room. From the hall beyond the sitting room, Harry could hear the echo of his mother's laugh and the voices of his friends and family. "If you chose it, this could become your world. You could be sixteen again, with sixteen years' worth of wonderful memories of family and home and school. No Voldemort, not life-threatening battles, no abusive relatives." Dumbledore leaned forward, facing Harry across the room and clearly very, very serious. "When you were just a boy, I committed your life to the fight against evil," he said, his eyes over-bright. "I did not ask your permission to do this and by the time it was your choice to make, you'd been led to believe the burden was yours to bear." Dumbledore took a moment to blow his nose on a lace handkerchief. "I did that, Harry. My choices and sacrifice of you led to that life. I destroyed your childhood. Now, I'm offering it back to you and as it's Christmas, it seemed somehow appropriate."

Harry sat back, his head spinning. He couldn't imagine a life without Voldemort, a childhood without fear and loss and sacrificed innocence. The magical world had saved him but it had also condemned him and his family.

His family …

"Sir," he said slowly, "how could you think …" He paused, swallowing hard. "This world is really wonderful. I'm loved, I have a family – hell, I'm even starting to like Snape."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"But, sir, you knew me such a long time in our reality," Harry went on. "How could you think I'd choose this over James and Lily and Albus and Matilda and the Weasleys and Teddy? Whether it was fair or not, Voldemort's existence shaped my life. How could you think I'd trade who he helped make me and all the people and things I have to be young and carefree?"

Dumbledore smiled ruefully. "I should have known better, of course," he said. "I just thought I'd make the offer … as a gesture. In the spirit of Christmas."

"Sir," Harry said suspiciously. "You're not messing about in my life because you're getting bored in the afterlife, are you?"

Dumbledore laughed heartily, a rich clear sound Harry could have done with hearing more of as a child. "Oh, my dear boy," he said, wiping his eyes. "The afterlife, as you call it, holds wonders to tempt beings far beyond me. I had barely broken the surface of its mysteries." His smile slid from his face. "As I told you before, I owe you many debts. In my wanderings through existence beyond life as you know it, I've learned many things. This discovery, the existence of the Possibilities, allowed me a chance to offer you a gift, a choice. I knew I had to make the offer, whether or not you were willing to accept it."

"So … how long do I stay here?" Harry asked.

"As long as you like," Dumbledore said.

"I mean, I want to go back to my family," Harry said quickly. "My real family – my children and my wife. It's where I belong. I just wonder if …"

Dumbledore nodded, understandingly. "Since it's not your reality, Harry, it's your dream. You get to wake up from it, as you like."

"I won't stay long," Harry murmured, more to himself than Dumbledore. "It will be harder to leave, the longer I stay. I just want to be here long enough to …" He thought of Lily and swallowed. "I couldn't have chosen this reality anyway," he said slowly. "I miss my dad too much."

"An unavoidable change in a timeline without Voldemort," Dumbeldore said, not looking surprised by Harry's reaction. "Your parents were brought together through a bond forged by adversity. Without that catalyst, they had no beginning."

Harry nodded. "I'm glad," he said at last, "there's a reality where Snape gets the life he always wanted. Nothing good ever happened to him where I come from."

"That is true," Dumbledore said, sad and resigned at once. "If it's any consolation, Severus is content now, where he is. He is with Lily again, having adventures and happy at last."

"How does that work, with my dad and Sirius and all?" Harry wondered.

Dumbeldore smiled. "Ever the explorer, Harry," he said. "There are some mysteries I cannot help you solve. Yet." He stood. "When you're ready, I will wake you. In the meantime, go be with your family and friends. When you're ready, rub your forehead where your scar should be and I'll make sure you wake up where you belong."

Harry stood as well. "Thanks … Uncle Dumb." He swallowed. "For everything."

"On the contrary, Harry," Dumbledore said, clasping his hand. "Thank you for continuing to far exceed my expectations. It has been an honor, knowing you."

They returned to the kitchen, silent and slow.

"Harry, darling!" Lily took him in her arms, stroking his hair. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Mum," Harry said, pressing his face into her shoulder anyway. When he pulled away, he managed a smile. "Never been better."

"We had some catching up to do," Dumbledore said, smiling at Lily and scooping Ella into his arms. "We're all caught up now."

"You promised you'd tell me what's been on your mind," Lily said, eyeing Harry shrewdly.

"Later, Mum?" Harry begged. "My mates are still here and there's hot chocolate."

"I drank yours," Pansy told him, glaring at him. "Serves you, leaving me alone with your mates."

Harry's mates grinned at him. "I don't know what she's fussed about, Harry," Malfoy said, taking a dainty sip of hot chocolate. "We're perfect little gentlemen."

Snape and Lupin choked into their hot chocolate.

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said to them. "Mum, can I have some chocolate?"

She brought him a cup and even if he was dreaming, it still tasted amazing, especially with a candy cane to stir it with.

"Lily, you make the best chocolate," Lupin said.

"Let's go sit by the fire," Zabini suggested. "I want to admire the tree."

"You want to find your presents," Snape corrected, trying not to smile.

"I resent that, sir!" Zabini said. "Christmas is about giving." His shifty face fooled no one.

"I expect loot, sir," Malfoy said. "Come sit with me, El."

Ella stood a moment, staring back and forth between Malfoy, Zabini, Dumbledore, and Lupin, apparently in agony over who to sit with. Harry caught her eye and smiled. She grinned back and caught his hand, pulling him into the sitting room. "I get to choose what present you open tonight," she said, tugging him down onto the hearth rug and crawling into his lap.

"I trust you," he said seriously.

The others followed them in, arranging themselves around the room in chairs and on the floor. Malfoy complained that Ella had betrayed him and was so intent on dramatizing his betrayal that he forgot to be afraid when Lupin sat down next to him and asked if he'd done his wordless magic essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"I suppose I'll do it, sir," Malfoy said, looking mournfully at Ella who was giggling hysterically in Harry's lap. "If I can be roused from my bed of pain."

"He's already finished it, sir," Zabini said, nudging Malfoy. "He finished it the night before we left Hogwarts for the holiday."

"Shut up, Zabini, you finished it the afternoon Professor Lupin set the essay," Malfoy retorted, shoving back.

"Lupin, are you bribing them?" Snape demanded.

"My students are as much a mystery to me as they are to you, Severus," Lupin said, shaking his head.

"I did your homework already, sir," Pansy said primly from the rocker. She had pulled a sprig of holly from the mantle and was experimentally arranging it in her hair. "It was quite good fun, actually. I stole – I mean, I borrowed hair from at least five subjects. Maybe six, I don't remember now."

Harry shared alarmed expressions with Zabini and Malfoy.

"It was only a curative potion," Snape pointed out. "It's not like it was Polyjuice or anything dangerous."

"Only to test it, she has to administer it to her subjects and watch for the desired results," Malfoy pointed out.

"Which explains why I came over violently ill two days before midterms and Harry developed an eight-foot beard," Zabini said.

"I deny everything," Pansy said, while the adults chuckled and Ella gave Pansy another pained look of outraged admiration.

"Presents already, you lot," Lily cut in. She sat with Snape in the love seat, fingers laced through his.

"Before our guests perish of old age," Snape said. He and Dumbledore grinned at each other, sharing some private joke.

"Mummy, Mummy, can Harry go first?" Ella cried, bouncing up and down in Harry's lap. "Please, can he?"

"Guests first, El," her father began.

"Why not, Severus?" Lupin cut in. "It really is a great gift."

"Go on, El," Lily said, nodding to her daughter.

"You'll love it!" Ella said, hugging Harry tight and crawling away to dig through the presents under the tree.

Harry glanced quickly around. Everyone was watching Ella, smiling as she dug impatiently through gifts in search of the one for Harry. Harry took a mental picture, trying to remember everything, from the smell of the chocolate and fire to the glittering ornaments on the tree to the sight of his parents calling different instructions to Ella and the two godfathers calling instructions to Lily and Snape to stop confusing Ella with their instructions. Harry even tried to remember Malfoy, Zabini, and Pansy, leaning forward and laughing as all but Ella's legs vanished behind the tree.

When Harry sought Dumbledore's eyes, he caught them at once. Slowly, his throat tight, he reached up and rubbed his forehead. Dumbledore nodded and the room suddenly blurred, like a watercolor painting in the rain. The voices of the people around him faded, muted, and went silent.

)DREAM(

Harry heard the racketing as he awoke. Shortly after, he heard the baby stir and felt the bed shift as Ginny got up. He blinked in the wintery light coming through the sheer curtains over the large window. Ginny was just lifting Matilda from her crib, rubbing her back. She turned back and smiled as Harry retrieved his glasses from the bedside table.

"Happy Christmas," she said. She carried Matilda to the rocker by the window for her breakfast.

"Happy Christmas." Harry grinned as he sat up, shoving his fingers through his hair.

"What time did you and Teddy get back last night?" she asked, tucking Matilda firmly against her side and draping one of Grandma Weasley's quilts over her to keep her warm.

"Quite late," Harry said, squinting as he tried to remember. "Teddy needed more time this year." He frowned. "I had the weirdest dream."

They paused as the sounds of three teenagers ambushing a young man and shouting the roof down about presents drifted to them from Teddy's room. "They'll always be five years old Christmas morning," Ginny murmured. "Except you," she added, stroking Matilda's rosy cheek as the baby drank her fill." Ginny glanced up. "What sorts of dreams, love? Nightmares?"

"No, I'm sure they were good," Harry muttered, wracking his brain. "My mum was there, I remember that. Maybe Snape." He frowned. "Don't kill me, but I think Pansy Parkinson was my girlfriend."

"Stroppy cow," Ginny said comfortably.

"I think in the dream she was all right," Harry countered.

"Oh, I'll bet." Ginny smirked at him, switching Matilda to her other side. "Anyone else there?"

"Malfoy, I think," Harry said slowly. "Neville." He scowled. "It's all slipping away."

"Dreams do that," Ginny said. "Take Matilda, will you? She's done."

Harry scooped his daughter into his arms, kissed his wife good morning, and took Matilda downstairs.

"Happy Christmas, Daddy!"

Lily, tousled and beaming, looked up from the Christmas tree around which she and her siblings sat. The lights glittered in the branches and the tree seemed to float on top of all the presents under it.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said, grinning at his children and Teddy.

"Dad, can I see Maddy?" Albus held out his arms and Harry placed the baby in them. She cooed and caught some of Albus's long, shaggy hair in her fist.

"You're her favorite," Jamie said grumpily from the rug by Teddy.

"Who wants hot chocolate?" Harry asked.

"Who doesn't is the question you should be asking, Uncle Harry," Teddy said, his hair a festive tangle of red and green. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I can handle it," he said. "Jamie, extra peppermint?"

"With a side of peppermint and peppermint for dessert," Jamie told him with a quiet grin. The inside joke was a small token of Jamie's childhood relationship with Harry that had survived his turbulent adolescence.

"Got it," Harry said, heading for the kitchen and deciding he'd best use his largest saucepan. He was just putting the large slabs of chocolate on a double boiler to melt them when the smell met his nose and it all came back to him in a rush …

Parents, sixteen, Ella, Snape (not James), Slytherin, Malfoy, Pansy, and Zabini, Mrs. Dr. Watson the python, Uncle Dumb …

He sank back against the counter, his heart pounding. The choice to live that life, to give up his family. He hurried back down the hall, leaving the chocolate to melt.

" – and I told the witch you were only thirteen, Lils, and I didn't think you needed a flying tractor of your very own," Teddy was saying. Lily rocked back and forth, tears of mirth sliding down her freckled cheeks. Matilda sat in Albus's lap, chewing meditatively on his fingers as she watched Lily.

"Teddy, flying tractors are always appropriate Christmas presents," James said, shaking his head. "How could you walk away from a deal like that?"

"Dad," Albus said, looking up from Matilda and noticing Harry in the doorway. "You okay?"

It wasn't until later, when they were all sitting around the dinner table with Malfoy's family, that Harry was able to answer his son. He had been so sure it would be painfully awkward, sitting near Narcissa and her son. He hadn't counted on Andromeda's excitement at the families coming together or Score's eagerness to be with Lily and Albus or Narcissa's bizarre preoccupation with Matilda, who was a charmer. He hadn't realized how comfortable Malfoy's wife Elizabeth and Ginny had become with each other over the last year.

"Potter, I don't mean to ask personal questions, but is there a reason you keep staring at me?" Malfoy murmured, looking uncomfortably at him across the table.

"Sorry," Harry said automatically. "Just … weird dream. That's all."

"Normal weird or prophetic weird?" Malfoy asked. "I ask out of professional interest," he said quickly. "I just went to a psychiatric magical healing seminar in France."

Harry hesitated. But Malfoy had been there. Why not?

"Well, it turns out it wasn't exactly a dream …"

)DREAM(

Fin

Merry Christmas, all! See you next year!