Gift of Love: a GSM Christmas

by KneazleGriff

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Summary: Christmas is a time of giving. No one understands this more than Severus whose gift for his new husband may just prove to be the ultimate expression of love. HP/SS. A Gray Skye Mourning Christmas story.

Rating: Rated M for mature sexual situations.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling

Appreciation: A special thank you to YenGirl for taking time out of her schedule to Beta this story. I appreciate it so much, Yen! :)

A/N: As promised, here's my GSM Christmas offering, a continuation of my full-length story, Gray Skye Mourning and its Halloween follow-up story, Point of Love: a GSM Halloween. This is Part One of what will be a three-part fic. I plan on posting Part Two next week and then Part Three the following week, just in time for Christmas.

I hope you enjoy it! :D

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Part One

Christmas Eve, 6:56am

"Harry? Are you home? Severus?"

Recognizing Hermione's voice, Harry placed the steaming mug of spiced cider he'd been drinking on the table and hurried from the kitchen area, shivering slightly as his bare feet touched the cold hardwood floor of the living area. Upon reaching the corner hearth, he sat down on the end of the leather sofa closest to it, his emerald eyes fixing upon the anxious-looking ones peeking out through the viridescent flames.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked. "It's not even seven o'clock yet. You never floo-call so early. Has something happened? Is Ron OK?"

"No, nothing's wrong, Harry. Ron's fine – he's still sleeping, actually."

Even with the flickering flames distorting the subtlety in Hermione's soft features, Harry could tell that she was not being entirely forthright. Her brow was knitted with tension and she looked distressed. Almost like how she'd looked just before their OWLs: nervous and close to the point of panic.

"Really," she stressed, "everything's OK. It's just… may I come through?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure!"

Harry shot up from his seat and lunged forward to take his friend's hand, helping her as she stepped out of the flames. Despite the early hour, he was surprised to find her still dressed in her nightclothes – a knee-length terrycloth dressing gown covering pink flannel pajamas, her feet shod in a pair of fuzzy red and white striped slipper socks. As she took a seat in the spot on the sofa Harry had just deserted, she wrapped her arms around her middle and sank back into the cushions, her eyes sliding shut for an overlong blink.

"I take it it's cold at the Burrow?"

"What? Oh! Yes, very," she answered distractedly, running her hands up and down her clothed arms and faking a little shudder. "It's not much better here though."

"OK, Hermione, out with it. What's going on? Why are you here?"

"What?" she countered, eyes widening in what Harry recognized as her expression of faux chagrin. "Can't I visit my best friend on the morning of his wedding?"

"Hermione…"

"Are we alone? Is Severus home?" she asked abruptly. Leaning to the side, she propped herself up with one elbow on the sofa's armrest, scanning the open kitchen with nervous eyes before her gaze darted over to the closed door of Severus' potion lab.

His concern growing – and now mixed with curiosity over his friend's overt display of paranoia – Harry sat down on the edge of the coffee table across from Hermione and shook his head.

"No, he's at Hogwarts, trying to get the last of his marking done. Since we leave for St. George Island right after the reception, this is his last opportunity to finish it. And he does't trust any of the other professors enough to let them grade his exams. You know how obsessively neurotic he can be about his work."

"Right. Neurotic," she parroted, clearly not paying attention, her eyes now glued to her pajama-clad knees.

Having just about enough of her anxious behavior, Harry leaned forward and grasped one of her hands. It was cool to the touch compared to his own mug-warmed one so he brought his other hand to it, wrapping his fingers around it and rubbing the chilled skin to warm it.

"Come on, Hermione. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Please?"

"Oh, Harry! I'm so confused and I have no idea what to do! I really hate to burden you with my problems on your wedding day, but I just don't know who else to talk to about this and I–"

"Whoa, Hermione! Back up," Harry interrupted, giving her hand a little squeeze. "First of all, you should know by now that you could never be a burden to me – wedding day or not – and that I will always be here for you. You and Ron."

His attempt to ease her tension failed miserably. At his mention of Ron, Hermione's worried little frown deepened, twisting into a pained grimace. She breathed out shakily and then bit down on the side of her lower lip, a small whimper escaping her throat.

"Hey… is this about you and Ron? Did you two have a fight?"

A clump of frizzy brown hair fell across Hermione's distressed features as she shook her head in the negative. She made no move to sweep it back as she answered, "No. It's nothing like that, Harry."

"Well, then what is it? What's got you so frazzled? It can't be because of your end-of-term exams; I know for a fact that you aced them. Severus said you got top marks on his Defense exam and that your near-perfect performance on your other exams was all Professors Flitwick, Slughorn and Vector could talk about in the staff room yesterday."

He, Ron and Hermione, along with several others who had missed out on the past year at Hogwarts because of the war, had been invited back by Headmistress McGonagall to either continue or complete their magical education. However, since Hogwarts couldn't easily accommodate all of them in their old dormitories, the eldest among them – those seventeen and older – were given special permission to live off-campus. While Hermione and Ron had decided to take up residence at the Burrow and floo to their classes daily through the hearth in Gryffindor Tower, Harry had remained with Severus in their forest cottage.

The only hiccup in this arrangement was that McGonagall had insisted that instead of taking Severus' Defense classes, Harry was to meet with an outside tutor twice a week for Defense. As she'd put it, it would look rather shady if he were to be taught by a professor with whom he was currently in a romantic relationship. Harry had agreed with the Headmistress' condition and was pleasantly surprised to find it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, their newly appointed Minister of Magic himself, who had volunteered for the job. The man's vast knowledge of Defensive theory and solid experience in the field turned out to be second to none. Therefore, it came to no surprise to anyone that Harry excelled under the ex-Auror's tutelage, proving yet again that Defense was his best subject.

What did come as a surprise however, was the fact that Potions had very quickly become his second best subject. Just like Harry's sixth year, Slughorn had spent all term boasting about his potions prowess, never missing an opportunity to sing Harry's praises to his fellow classmates and the other professors regarding his stellar performance. Little did the man know that Harry's success was almost entirely due to Severus' rather intense, reward-based potion lessons taught in the privacy of their home.

Overall, Harry was enjoying the new set-up – his living arrangements, his altered course schedule and his love life. The only real drawback was that he didn't get the chance to see Severus during the day like he had this past summer before school started, but the nights spent in his lover's company more than made up for their time spent apart.

This whole time, Harry had been under the impression that his two best friends were just as contented as he was, but perhaps he had missed something? Could it be possible that Ron and Hermione were not as happy in their relationship as he and Severus were with theirs? He really didn't think so, but he'd never seen Hermione this upset before.

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head, "I'm not upset because of anything as trivial as grades or school."

Trivial?

Harry blinked. Now he was getting really nervous. For Hermione Granger to put 'trivial' and 'grades' or 'school' in the same sentence, that would mean that whatever was causing her distress must be something big… something earth-shattering… something that could shake the very foundations of life itself…

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out suddenly, snapping Harry out of his anxious musings as sure as if she'd slapped him.

Mouth agape and green eyes wide with shock, he stared at her. She had finally lifted her head and her eyes, abandoning their downcast position, were looking imploringly into his own. The brown orbs were wet, glistening with unshed tears and they held his gaze with unwavering intensity while the seconds seemed to stretch on into long, tension-filled moments of silence.

At long last, Harry shook himself from his stunned stupor long enough to find his voice.

"You're… you're… oh my God, Hermione! Are you sure? I mean, have you seen a doctor… or… or a healer or something?"

"I have an appointment to see Madam Pomfrey this morning at nine, but it's really just a formality. I'm already certain that I'm pregnant," she explained, voice soft and shaking slightly.

"But… but… OK, forgive me for my ignorance here… but how can you be certain?" Harry said, leaning closer to his troubled friend, his hands still embracing Hermione's smaller one.

A chuckle escaped the girl's mouth then, her lips curving up into a knowing smile as she shook her head. "Harry, a woman knows when she's pregnant, alright? There are ways. Plus I took one of those Muggle pregnancy tests and the results were positive."

"A Muggle pregnancy test? Are you sure they're accurate? You should really just wait until Madam Pomfrey gives you a confirmation before you jump to conclu–"

"Harry," she interjected, her voice stronger now and sharp with reprimand. "I am pregnant! The test I took boasts something like ninety-nine percent accuracy! As do the three others I took after that one, not to mention the fact that I'm about three weeks late and I feel like I could vomit just about every time I look at or smell anything edible! I'm bloated and tired and cranky and I'm just so… so scared… and I don't know what to do!"

Pulling her hand from Harry's grasp, she buried her face in them, her words dwindling into soft cries as her shoulders shook.

"Hey, it's alright, Hermione. It'll be OK," Harry whispered, placing his now empty hands on her knees. "Have you told anyone else yet? I mean, does Ron know?"

Dropping her hands back into her lap, Hermione once again lifted tearful brown eyes to look into his own, her head shaking back and forth as she nibbled on her lower lip.

"Why, Hermione? Why haven't you told him?" Harry asked, confused. Certainly this was not a planned pregnancy and sure, she and Ron might be a bit on the young side to start a family, but Harry was still certain that his best mate would care and support Hermione through this, be right there beside her through the whole thing. Hell, Ron would probably drop to his knee and propose on the spot! Their impulsive redheaded friend had his faults, certainly, but he loved Hermione – had loved her ever since their third year in school, maybe earlier – and he would never abandon the girl he was so desperately devoted to. No way. Never.

"I know I should tell him… I need to tell him… but I'm just not sure how he'll react, Harry," she said, wiping the back of her hand across her tearing eyes. She tried to run the same hand through her hair to keep it from falling into her face but soon gave up after her fingers got caught in the tangled locks. Sighing in exasperation, she slumped back against the sofa cushions and closed her eyes.

"Look, Hermione, I realize you two probably weren't planning on getting married and having a child while you're still teenagers, but he loves you. Sure, he'll probably freak out a bit when you break the news to him, but it'll work out one way or another. Are you seriously thinking he'll dump you or something? Leave you to have his child alone? Come on, Hermione. You know Ron better than that."

Hermione sat back up and clasped her hands in her lap, her thumbs twirling around each other nervously. She breathed out a deep, trembling breath, hesitated for a moment and then spoke again.

"No, I don't think he would abandon me… or our baby. He's an honorable man, so of course he'd do the right thing. But Harry, we've never even spoken about having children before. Once, after you and Severus became engaged, we discussed marriage. It was kind of an awkward conversation but I think that was only because Ron was so nervous talking about it. His face turned beet red and he was sweating and stammering… well, you know how he gets. Or maybe you don't, I don't know. Regardless, I'm fairly certain that he wants to marry me… someday… but we never talked about having a family. Not once. So I have no idea if he even wants to have children! And now I'm pregnant and he'll have no choice in the matter! Harry, I just don't want him to be with me out of… obligation… or something. I don't want him to feel as though his whole future has now been predetermined simply because I was too stupid to remember to take my birth control potion!"

Tears were falling from her eyes in earnest now, sliding down her reddened cheeks and Harry acted on instinct, shooting up from his seated position on the table and sitting down beside her. He wrapped his arms around his sobbing friend and held her close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"Shhh, Hermione. Please stop crying. Listen, just go back to the Burrow and talk to him. He loves you so much and nothing will change that," he whispered. Then, suddenly remembering a conversation he had had with Ron several weeks ago, he smiled and added, "And for your information, I happen to know for a fact that Ron does want to have a family with you."

Hermione pulled back abruptly from their embrace and stared up into his eyes, her own teary ones narrowing in confusion.

Smile widening at his friend's expression of piqued curiosity, Harry explained further. "Ron and I were talking about Teddy last month – about how well he's adjusting to living with Andromeda now – and somehow we got on the subject of Wizarding naming traditions. He told me he always thought it was kind of dumb that most Wizarding couples insist on naming their sons using a family name – like Teddy being named after his grandfather – but usually not their daughters. Anyway, he mentioned that when the two of you have your first daughter, he wants her to have your name in some way."

At once, those narrowed brown eyes grew wide and were soon brimming with something more than tears: hope. A huge smile replaced the frown on Hermione's lips and in the next second, Harry had to turn his head sharply to avoid being smothered by a mass of frizzy hair as she launched herself back into his arms.

"Oh, Harry! Thank you so much! You're such a good friend and… Oh God!… I've been so stupid! I'm an absolute dunce… a complete, utter, short-sighted fool!"

Harry rubbed his friend's back again, his own smile fit to bursting as he listened to Hermione's self-condemning rant. He held her for a few more moments before she drew back once again, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her pajamas and sniffing through chuckling breaths.

After composing herself, she grasped Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze, gratitude and relief blatant on her still-smiling face. Then she exhaled deeply, steadily, and met his gaze again.

"Well, I better get back to Ron. We have a lot to discuss, I guess," she said, her eyes alight with excitement now. The brown orbs stayed locked with his own for heartbeat before their owner tilted her head to the side, brow furrowing in question. "So what about you and Severus? Have you two thought about whether you'd like to have children one day?"

"Huh?" Harry asked, caught off-guard, his own head cocked to the side now. His confusion continued for a few more seconds until it occurred to him that she must be talking about adoption. Certainly it was a viable option for Severus and himself, especially after today, when they would officially become a legally bonded couple in the Wizarding World. It wouldn't be difficult to find a child in need of a home either. In the war's wake, there had been an increase in British children – both Magical and Muggle – who were now orphaned. Chances are, he and Severus would have little problem moving through the legal red tape and finding a child, considering that both of them were regarded as war heroes and that homosexuality wasn't frowned on the way it was in the Muggle world.

"Harry?"

"Oh. Yeah, sorry, Hermione. I was just lost in thought for a second," he said, still pondering her question. "Um, the truth is that I'm not sure if children are in our future or not. Actually, I don't even know if Severus would want to have them. I mean, yeah, he's really great with Teddy when Andromeda drops him off for a visit, but that doesn't mean he would want his own. Our own, I mean. We… well… just like you and Ron… we never really got around to talking about children. But it's not like there's any real pressure on us to rush into making a decision. I mean… it's not like one of us is in danger of becoming pregnant like you!"

Harry laughed at his lame joke until it occurred to him belatedly that he was the only one expressing any kind of amusement. Hastily schooling his features lest he had offended Hermione without meaning to, he looked into his friend's piercing gaze, her fierce, knowing expression and instantly felt himself grow nervous.

The look she was giving him now was a familiar one.

It was the same look she'd bestowed on him in their second year when he'd admitted to not understanding why no one else at Hogwarts could talk to snakes. It was also the one she'd pinned him with back in fifth year when he couldn't comprehend why Cho kept staring at him at their very first unofficial DA meeting in the Hog's Head. In fact, each time he or Ron was unlucky enough to suggest the possibility of someone Apparating in or out of Hogwarts grounds, they would get that very same please-tell-me-you're-not-that-stupid look.

Seeing it right now after the last few words he'd uttered prompted a shudder of dread to ripple down Harry's spine, his stomach twisting in on itself.

"What? What did I say?" he asked anyway, licking his lips nervously. God, he hated her looking at him like that!

Hermione's eyebrows lifted, disappearing beneath her bangs. The effect seemed to accentuate her already discomfiting expression, making Harry feel decidedly more nervous, his palms beginning to sweat a little.

"Come on, Hermione," he said, forcing a smile, despite his sudden unease. "You're not seriously going to tell me that Wizards can get pregnant, are you? Because I'm pretty sure Sev would have let me know if that was a possibility."

He forced out another laugh which dwindled off when Hermione didn't break so much as a smile.

"Actually, Harry, it is possible. I thought you of all people would have known–"

"What!?" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. "Holy shit! Are you serious? And just how the hell would I have known something like that? What – because I'm labeled as gay now? That automatically means that I would know–"

"No!" Hermione cried, grasping Harry's now flailing hands and holding them firmly in her own. "No, I didn't think you'd know about it because you're in a homosexual relationship! I thought you'd know about it because you're about to marry Severus!"

Interrupted from his frantic outburst, Harry stared down at her, blinking several times as he tried to make sense of what she just said. He wanted to tell her that that wasn't the reason they were getting married, but his mind was distracted, still reeling over the idea that Wizards could become pregnant.

Holy Merlin! Did that mean that he could be pregnant right this moment? Or that Severus could be? Neither of them had ever used any means of protection, not even once! But for God's sake, Harry had no earthly clue how this seemingly impossible feat of science-fiction nonsense could even work! He knew the basics of reproduction and the last time he checked, neither he nor Severus had the proper equipment to bear a child!

"Harry, calm down, please," Hermione commanded, pulling him back to sit down beside her again. Once he was seated, she grabbed his chin so that he was forced to look at her. "Hey, I'm sorry I freaked you out. I just thought Severus would have already explained this stuff to you. Look, you're not pregnant, OK?"

"But how do you know? You just said–"

"I said that it was possible," she interrupted, her fingers still tight around his jaw to keep his attention, "possible, Harry, not probable and certainly not without great effort and preparation."

Seeing the blank expression that Harry knew was on his face, Hermione sighed and continued, her earlier panic forgotten as she adopted a familiar lecturing tone.

"Male pregnancies are extremely rare in the Wizarding World and they don't just happen as a result of unprotected intercourse like they do with a man and a woman. There's a specific potion that the male who wishes to carry the child must take daily for something like two months or so before a pregnancy can even be possible. The potion causes the drinker to grow an artificial womb inside his abdomen but from what I've read, even after this step is undertaken, nearly all known attempts at conception have resulted in failure because apparently, both wizards have to be exceedingly powerful – magically speaking – for a conception to occur and even then, there are no guarantees that the fetus will take to the artificial environment and grow to term.

"And I only said that I thought you would have already known about this because… well, Severus is the Potions Master who invented the potion that makes it possible… so I figured you two had discussed the possibility considering you're about to be married!"

"He… he invented it? The potion?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God. When? When did he invent it?"

"I don't recall the exact year, Harry. It was back in our fifth year when I read about it. But I do remember it was in a book about great Wizarding inventions from the last twenty-five years."

Hermione released his chin and immediately Harry lowered his head, his eyes unfocused as they stared down at his own hands folded in his lap. He was... stunned... by this news – to put it mildly – and his head was spinning from the sheer shock of it.

He had been truthful when he told Hermione that he and Severus had never discussed raising children together, but Harry would be lying now if he were to claim that he hadn't thought about it. In fact, he'd thought about adoption several times – more frequently since their engagement – and had considered approaching Severus about the idea on a number of occasions. His famed Gryffindor bravery always seemed to elude him though, because each time he tried, he ended up backing down and coming up with some excuse or another not to broach the subject.

Despite his reluctance to talk about it with Severus, Harry really did want to have children with him – very much so – and whether that was through adoption or by other magical means made no difference to him. He supposed the real reason he remained hesitant to bring up the topic with his lover was that, deep down, he suspected that Severus didn't share this same desire to start a family – a thought that always caused a pang of regret to gnaw at Harry's heart and one he ruthlessly suppressed each time it arose lest Severus detect it through their link.

But to find out now that Severus had actually invented a potion that would enable a man to conceive? Well, this changed everything! Severus must secretly want to have children with him! Why else would his lover invent such a thing if he weren't intending for it to one day be used by his long lost love from the past. Harry knew Severus had never completely given up hope that Gray would return to him. Otherwise, the man never would have invented a cure for his nerve damage during Gray's absence. So it stands to reason that this potion, too, was masterminded in the hopes that once they were reunited, Severus' soul mate, Gray Skye – aka Harry, himself – would drink this potion and bear them one or more children. Certainly, his intention was not for the reverse to take place – for Severus himself to become pregnant. Harry was fairly sure his lover was too occupied with his career as a Hogwarts professor and his ongoing potions research to commit to the physical and emotional burden of carrying a child.

"Hermione," he whispered at last, lifting his head so that his gaze met hers once more. There was concern swimming within the warm brown depths as he looked into them, but that concern melted away when Harry's lips curved up into a hesitant smile. "I think he invented that potion for me. I think… I think he hopes that one day, I'll consent to giving birth to our child, but for whatever reason, he's been too nervous to talk to me about it."

"And how do you feel about the idea?" she asked, a reciprocal smile mirrored on her face now.

"I think it's brilliant. A little terrifying… but brilliant."

"So you'd actually be willing to consider it?"

Harry nodded easily, his smile huge now. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I would."

At once, Harry's vision was obscured by a mass of bushy brown as his friend embraced him and then shot to her feet, pulling him with her, her lips placing a firm kiss to his cheek.

Harry hugged her back, reveling in the seemingly endless supply of support and comfort she was always willing to give him. Turning his head, he placed his own kiss to her cheek, then brought his thumb up to it, wiping away the wetness he'd felt there from her earlier tears.

Pulling away at last, Hermione gifted Harry with one last beaming smile before saying, "Well, I guess I'm not the only one who needs to initiate a discussion about future children tonight. Will you wait until after the ceremony?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Severus is going to the Hog's Head right after he's done with his marking. He's rented a room there to get ready. I won't even see him again until he arrives back here for our bonding ceremony at five. Which reminds me... would you please ask Ron to be here by three-thirty – not four like we talked about yesterday? I need to go over the words of the handfasting ritual with him one more time. During the rehearsal ceremony, he slipped up and referred to the act of binding as an act of bondage. I don't even want to imagine the look on Mrs. Weasley's face if he were to make that same mistake during the real ceremony!"

Hermione nodded her agreement as she walked over to the hearth, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her amusement, the other grabbing a handful of floo powder from the box on the mantle. A moment later, she was gone amid a flare of restive green flames, her shouted destination of the Burrow less articulate than normal as she finally succumbed to an eruption of unrestrained giggles.

Still smiling from the morning's surprising developments and from Ron's propensity to screw up the words to Muggle Neopaganism rituals, Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione later if she actually made it to the correct grate on the first try. Trusting his friend to find her way home regardless, he made his way back to the kitchen and sat down at the table, giving his Gemina bonding ring an absentminded tap with the tip of his thumb while whispering a warming charm on his now room-temperature cider.

Chapter End – To Be Continued.

A/N: Look for Part Two to be posted sometime next week, hopefully by Wednesday, the 17th. :)

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