Chapter 7

"Tell me how the conversation between you and Professor Dumbledore went. Can you remember what date it took place?"

"Date?" Severus echoed, looking across at Hermione in slight bewilderment. "No, no I can't. Not exactly anyway. It was…straight after Narcissa came to see me, before term began I suppose."

Hermione nodded and scribbled away at her notes. "And what exactly did Professor Dumbledore say?"

"You want the conversation word-for-word?" Severus asked, his palms beginning to prickle.

"I need it to be as detailed as possible," Hermione said, her expression apologetic. "I know this is difficult – "

"That is rather an understatement," Severus replied, trying his best not to be rude. He was deeply uncomfortable and having to deal with emotions that he had never truly been able to come to terms with was proving very difficult. He knew it had to be done, he knew that all this would have to be picked over in court and that to be as prepared as possible was to his advantage, but it didn't make it any easier.

"If you'd rather, we can leave this for now and I can come back another time," Hermione said gently.

"No," Severus said with a sigh. "My apologies, I know that this is necessary, it's just…"

"I know," Hermione said, and Severus tried not to wince at the look of sympathy in her eyes.

"I have a suggestion," came Harry's voice, and Severus tilted his head as Harry came to perch on the edge of his armchair. "Perhaps it would be easier if you wrote this all down, like a statement. 'Mione, you can leave a list of your questions to guide the kind of information you need and Severus can get it all down in his own time."

"Would that be acceptable?" Severus asked Hermione, turning back to face her.

"Yes, that would work. Just please try and be as detailed as you can. Let me get some questions written down for you," she muttered, finding a blank sheet of paper and beginning to scribble on it.

Severus felt Harry's hand come to rest on his shoulder and he resisted the urge to smile, letting the warmth of it spread through his body. It moved slightly to the nape of his neck and he couldn't stop himself from leaning into it, wondering how Harry managed to be so easy with his affections, or if he even realised he was doing it.

Hermione looked up and her eyes flickered briefly to Harry's hand, before she lowered them to the paper on her lap again. "Are you still ok to have us all over for Christmas Eve?" she asked as she continued to write, her quill scratching noisily.

"Of course," Harry replied, and Severus nearly bit the inside of his cheek as the man's thumb began to brush softly against his skin. "I'm really looking forward to it. Severus is going to make canapés, aren't you?" he teased, and Severus looked up at him with as scathing a look as he could manage.

"I'll be making sure yours have a healthy dose of poison in them."

Harry chuckled and said, "Your threats don't scare me."

"It'll be strange not having you at the Burrow for Christmas Day," Hermione said, and Harry looked over at her, saying with a shrug,

"It's just this year, there'll be plenty of others."

"True."

There was silence for a moment as Hermione continued to write down her questions, and Severus contemplated how different this Christmas would be for him. The last two ones had of course been hell on earth, indeed he hadn't even realised it had been Christmas with the days bleeding into one another with little to distinguish them. It wasn't as if the inmates of Azkaban held their own Christmas party complete with finger food and parlour games.

If he was completely honest, his Christmases before his incarceration hadn't been much better. When he had been at Hogwarts they had been lonely, spent with the teachers who had never been friends and a small smattering of students who had hated him. The festive periods of his youth didn't even bear thinking about. His father had been drunk by ten o'clock while his mother had cried over the Christmas dinner. Presents had been non-existent, and any festive cheer was knocked out of him with dizzying alacrity.

The thought of spending a Christmas in this cosy place, which Harry had decorated with charming enthusiasm, was one that had filled him with more happiness than he had felt in a while.

"Right," said Hermione, finishing writing and placing the parchment on the table in front of her. "Those questions should serve as a useful guideline for the sort of information we'll need. I know it's hard, but please try and give as much information as you can."

"I will," Severus said, trying to disguise the heavy sigh that forced itself from his chest.

"It's all necessary, I promise," said Hermione, packing her things away in the satchel she always carried. "I should be on my way, I have to go and see Blaise."

"Oh yes?" Harry said with a teasing smile.

"Oh shut up," Hermione said as a blush spread across her cheeks. "It's a professional meeting, as well you bloody know."

She must have been ruffled, Severus thought, as Hermione descended to swearing only rarely. He had heard mention of his former student a couple of times, and he was aware that Blaise worked with the foundation in a legal capacity. His uncle was a partner in a very well-regarded law firm, and Blaise was apprenticed to them.

He himself had fallen foul of the Ministry and had had a very brief stay in Azkaban, which was overturned in a matter of weeks as a great many people testified that he had fought alongside them in the final battle. He was, as far as Harry and the others were concerned, as good a representation of the iniquity of locking up Slytherins as could be found, and he wasn't above capitalising on that to help their cases.

"Of course," Harry said, continuing to smile as he rose from his perch on the arm of Severus' chair to show Hermione out.

They continued bickering into the porch and Severus shook his head as he made his way into the kitchen, intent on making himself a cup of tea. He didn't bother fixing one for Harry as the man seemed to be determined to drink nothing but hot chocolate in the run up to Christmas, and had relented only to drink the mulled wine he had constantly brewing in the slow cooker.

He had tried very hard to be disdainful of Harry's childlike enthusiasm for Christmas, and he had even managed a sneer or two on occasion, but it was a poor showing and he knew it. Harry's love of the season was disconcertingly charming, and Severus fought hard against the growing affection he felt for the man with each endearing display of enjoyment at the period's festivities.

"Just professional my arse," Harry murmured as he came back into the kitchen, placing his hands on Severus' hips as he moved past him. "She fancies the pants off him. Not that I can blame her, he is bloody gorgeous."

"Oh yes?" Severus asked, turning to face Harry with a quirk of his eyebrow. "I didn't realise you harboured such fantasies."

Harry grinned at him. "I don't, honestly, just from an entirely objective point of view, Blaise is pretty damn easy on the eye. Everyone fancied him at school, boys and girls alike. It was universal."

"Oh, to be so adored," Severus said, rolling his eyes.

Harry chuckled and moved to the slow cooker to check on his latest batch of mulled wine, giving the pot a sniff and smiling approvingly at it. "That might be my best yet," he said, looking back up at Severus.

"I'm surprised you don't slosh when you walk, the amount of that stuff you've put away in the last few days."

"Tis the season," said Harry happily, and Severus once again found himself imbued with Harry's enjoyment.

Severus settled himself at the kitchen table and reached for a clementine from the bowl Harry had placed there. The whole house was full of them and the smell was delicious. He began to peel the waxy skin away and looked up at Harry, saying,

"Why aren't you going to the Burrow for Christmas Day? I was given to understand that it was a tradition."

"It is," said Harry, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. "But not this year."

"Why not?" Severus asked, fearing that he already knew the answer.

"The Burrow is outside the 30-mile lockdown," Harry said, his expression soft.

"Harry – "

"Severus, if you're about to suggest that I leave you to spend Christmas day on your own then I invite you to rethink such a suggestion," Harry said firmly, and Severus couldn't help but smile in spite of himself.

"They're your family," he protested, "you should be spending the day with them."

"I'll see them on Christmas Eve."

"But – "

"That's an end to the matter," Harry said, pushing himself off the counter and moving out into the living room.

Severus had never really expected him to yield, but he couldn't help feeling guilty that Harry was missing out on Christmas with his family because of him. Still, the thought of a quiet Christmas spent with Harry was one that filled him with more warmth than he would have admitted to anyone.

"You need to come and let me do the healing spell on your wound," Harry called, and Severus felt the usual tingle of anticipation race through him at the thought of Harry's hands on him.

He rose from the table and moved to join Harry in the living room, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt as he went. His fingers were stiff, the cold of December was playing havoc with his joints and he felt as though he were 100 years old with all the aches and creaks of his body.

"Let me," Harry said, coming to stand in front of him. He gently brushed Severus' hands aside and began to undo the buttons slowly. His hands slid the shirt from his shoulder then gently traced the scar on his throat. Severus inclined his head slightly and tried to look away but he couldn't help himself from studying the face in front of his own.

Harry's cheekbones were sharper than they had been in his boyhood and his face had become more angular with age. There was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose that Severus had never noticed in previous years and he was appalled to find that he found them delightfully endearing. Dear God, what had happened to him?

"It's healing nicely," Harry said softly, his warm breath ghosting over Severus' skin. He touched his wand to the scar and began muttering the healing spell, his fingertips following the line of his wand. Severus tried his best to keep his body under control, tried not to let it respond to Harry's proximity and the feel of his gentle fingers teasing over his skin.

He felt the magic dance along his nerves, felt it soothe the wound and continue to rid his body of the vestiges of the poison it still held in his system. He was convinced that his time in Azkaban wouldn't have taken such a heavy toll on his body if his wound had been properly treated to begin with. It had drained him of what little resources he had and had continued to play havoc with his battered system as he had languished under the inhuman conditions of the prison.

"Are you still there?" Harry said with a smile as he finished the spell.

"Mm?" Severus asked, giving himself a mental shake and meeting Harry's eyes.

"You always go a bit faraway when I do the spell," Harry said as Severus began to shrug himself back into his shirt once again.

"I was just…allowing myself to feel the benefit of the healing," Severus said softly.

Harry began to do up the buttons of his shirt and Severus couldn't help but think that it was the first time in his life he had ever been treated with anything that remotely resembled tenderness.

"I'm glad it's helping," Harry said, and Severus closed his hand over Harry's halting his movements.

"More than you could know," he said, holding Harry's hand to his chest gently.

He had never wanted anything more than to lean down and press his lips to Harry's, to take the man in his arms and claim him with an intensity he had never felt before. He couldn't though, he knew that. Harry deserved better than him, better than a withered old spectre with a tainted past and blood on his hands. He would be rejected, there was nothing more certain, and he would deserve to be so.

"I'd better attend to my afternoon's brewing," he said, his voice sounding strained. He released Harry's hand and stepped back, doing the remainder of his buttons up himself.

"Yes," Harry said, and it was too much to hope that there was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he did so. "Give me a shout if you need my help with anything."

"I shall."


He had known that Christmas had the potential to be a time filled with laughter and cheer, but it was not until he sat in Harry's home on Christmas Eve with a house full of Harry's family that he actually managed to experience it for himself.

All the Weasleys were there, along with Draco and Hermione, and Andromeda had also arrived with Teddy in tow. Harry had attached a charmed little marquee onto the house to give them all a little more space as the house wasn't big enough to accommodate everyone, and people were milling in and out easily as they moved from conversation to conversation and group to group.

It had all been rather overwhelming at first, and Severus had retreated to the kitchen, pressing himself against the back wall, ostensibly helping Harry with the food, but really just trying to escape an atmosphere he had no understanding of. Harry had smiled in understanding and had whispered that he didn't need to go back out if he didn't want to, but as the evening wore on, and as Ron continued to keep his glass topped up, he had ventured out into the living room.

He found that he was still largely unable to partake in the proceedings, but found that a vicarious enjoyment could be felt simply by sitting and letting things wash over him. The conversations that permeated around his head were all lively and good-natured, and where once he would have sneered at the cosiness and simplicity of such a wholesome gathering, he now found himself taking pleasure in it.

The Weasleys had been respectful of his introverted nature, and while all had greeted him, more warmly than he would have expected, they largely left him to himself. Bill had engaged him in an entertaining conversation and George had approached him a couple of times with an offer of food. It was obvious how much the man was suffering without his twin, and although Severus had been assured that the man was better than he had been, his loss was palpable, and Severus felt an uncomfortable pang of sympathy for him.

Apart from Harry, who still seemed close to the man after having lived with him briefly, it seemed that Draco was the only one who could tempt a genuine smile from the man. From listening to the snatches of conversations throughout the evening, Severus gleaned that Draco now worked with George in the shop he had set up with Fred years before.

Draco now had very little of his own money. The majority of the Malfoy assets had been seized by the Ministry and it was unlikely that he would ever be able to lay claim to his inheritance. The money he now had he had earnt through working as an accountant for George, as well as doing several shifts in the shop itself. Severus would never have believed it, but it seemed that Draco was enjoying the work, and that he and George had formed a close friendship as a result.

To see Draco interact with the rest of the Weasleys was something of an eye-opener. Of course, he had been told how close the man had become to them, and he had seen for himself how much Draco had changed, but he would never have thought that so much affection could exist between the loving family and the haughty, prejudiced child the man had once been.

It was obvious how highly he regarded Molly, and, with her usual capacity for care and affection, she treated Draco like one of her own. He had always needed the sort of attention that Molly could give, and it was obvious that he was benefitting from the kind of mother's love that he had never really known from Narcissa.

There were no barriers with the Weasleys, no standing upon ceremony and no holding back where feelings were concerned. To Severus, it was a little overwhelming, and he imagined that it would have been too for Draco initially, but now he seemed to truly thrive under the family's attentions.

"Here," came a voice to his left, and he turned to see Ron standing beside him, holding a small snifter of brandy.

"Thank you," Severus said as he accepted it, and Ron perched on the edge of the sofa opposite.

"Don't tell Harry I gave it to you, he's very upset you haven't had any of his mulled wine, or his eggnog," Ron said with a grin.

"American nonsense," Severus sniffed. "No one ever used to drink eggnog in this country. I blame that thing," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the television.

Ron laughed, the sound rich and deep, reverberating through his chest and settling pleasantly across Severus' senses. The man was so grown up, so different to the slightly bewildered teenager he could remember, and he had to admit, brandy or no, that he rather liked him.

"Draco seems well," Severus said softly, and Ron followed the man's line of sight to see Draco standing with Charlie and Arthur, caught up in a lively and animated conversation, his eyes bright and a genuine smile on his face.

Severus watched as a warmth settled over Ron's features and he looked at Draco with such tender affection that Severus found it impossible to believe that neither man realised the depth of their feelings.

"He likes being with the family," Ron said softly, turning back to face Severus, the tips of his ears slightly pink, and his freckles standing out more plainly against his cheeks. "It does him good to be surrounded with them all. It would send most people mad, it sends me mad half the time, but he just…drinks it all in."

Severus could see how much it meant to Ron that the person he cared about so deeply felt that way about his family, that he had found someone who not only fitted in with those he loved, but who loved them as much as he did.

"I can see how much he benefits from them," Severus said, and Ron smiled at him, the expression open and warm.

"He does," Ron agreed, obviously pleased with Severus' assessment. "And if he can put up with my mum's overbearing attempts to mother him to death, then he's a better man than I am."

"I'm fairly certain that Draco would put up with nothing that he didn't enjoy."

"True, very true."

Ron leant back in the sofa and cast an eye about the room with a contented smile, grinning as he set eyes on Harry, who was sitting on the floor with Teddy in his lap, an array of presents surrounding them. Ron shook his head fondly and said,

"He spoils that child rotten. He takes his godparenting duties very seriously."

Severus looked to where Harry sat, cuddling Teddy happily and helping him to unwrap yet another present. It was clear how much he loved the little boy, and Teddy, in turn, obviously adored Harry in equal measure.

It had been rather jarring for Severus to meet Andromeda, to come face-to-face with a woman who so strongly resembled Bella, but when the initial shock subsided, he had been able to see that Andromeda's eyes held a warmth that Bella's manic eyes never had. Andromeda had a kind, gentle face, and, never having suffered from poor health through incarceration in Azkaban, she had a softness to her features that Bella had never possessed.

To Severus, it seemed that the woman wore her loss like a cloak. She smiled and laughed, but it never quite managed to reach her eyes, and he rather suspected that were it not for the fact that she had a toddler to look after, she may well have followed her husband and daughter to the afterlife. Indeed, for all that she came across as robust and capable, there was a frailty to her that told of underlying health problems, and Severus found himself wondering if the woman was long for this world.

"He does seem to be a natural with children," Severus replied before taking a sip of his brandy and letting the warm flavours envelop on his tongue.

"No comments about making friends with someone who matches his intelligence?" Ron teased. "My, how times have changed."

Well that was an understatement, Severus thought wryly. Times had changed so much that he wasn't sure he recognised either himself or anyone else he had once known. To think that he was sitting in a room full of former Gryffindors, people he had sneered at and terrorised for a good portion of their lives, who were responsible for his liberty and who had welcomed him into their lives was enough to make his head spin.

"It'll get easier," Ron said softly, and Severus turned to meet gentle blue eyes.

"I was not aware you were adept at Legilimency," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Ron gave a soft laugh and leant forward a little. "I've lived with Draco for nearly two years, I understand a little something about what you're going through. The world's changed without giving you a chance to get used to it, or to understand it. You have no idea what your place could possibly be in this strange new set-up and you feel as though you're on a merry-go-round that just won't stop long enough for you to find your feet."

Severus blinked at Ron for a moment, wondering how it was possible for the man to vocalise the thoughts that constantly galloped through his mind. "How – " he began, but Ron shook his head with a wry smile.

"I understand more than people think," he said quietly. "I know it's difficult, I know that you feel cut adrift and confused, but it will get better, I promise."

"Not if this all falls apart and they end up throwing me back in Azkaban," Severus replied, unable to stop himself.

"Do you really think Harry will let that happen?" Ron asked, those gentle blue eyes flashing with something deeper.

"I can't continue to owe my life to him," Severus said, feeling his hackles rise slightly.

"Too late, you already do. I suggest you reconcile yourself to it," Ron said firmly.

"Don't think me ungrateful," Severus said, frustrated with himself.

"I don't," Ron said gently. "You're a proud man, Severus, with a bloody difficult history, but you need to learn to accept what's been given you, and to accept the person who's giving it."

Severus released a heavy sigh and Ron clapped a large hand on his shoulder, saying quietly, "Believe me when I say that you'll only get through this by learning to rely on people. It's a daunting prospect I grant you, but it'll pay dividends in the end."

Severus had nothing to say to that pearl of wisdom, and he found himself wishing that Ron was still a gangly teenager that he could terrify with a well-timed arch of his eyebrow. Seeming to sense that Severus needed a little time to mull over his well-meaning words, Ron gave a small nod and tapped Severus' knee lightly before he stood from the sofa and made his way to join Draco and his father over the other side of the room.

Severus sat quietly for the next half an hour or so, letting the evening wash over him as it had done before his conversation with Ron. He was disconcerted, it was true, but the rational part of his brain that still existed told him that the man was right; he needed to start letting go of the things that had led to his downfall in the first place.

Eventually, when the carolling and jovial games became a little too much for him, he decided to retreat into the kitchen under the guise of helping Harry with the next round of food. The man had made far too much, and had spent a large portion of the evening darting in and out of the kitchen to load the oven up with more morsels, despite people's protests that they were full.

Severus paused a little way into the kitchen and watched as Harry flitted around the room, a battalion of baking trays laden with food hovering at his shoulder as he glared into the oven and tried to find a way of making them all fit. There was a decidedly saccharine smile trying to make its way onto Severus' face as he watched the man, and he fought with every ounce of strength that he possessed to keep it at bay.

"Do you need some help?" he asked, and Harry turned to face him with a slightly frazzled expression.

"No, no, everything's under control," he said, turning back to the oven and stuffing the trays one-by-one into it, then giving it a faintly murderous look as though to warn it against turning on him. "I just hope I've timed the mini-quiches right," he said, turning to face Severus again. "They can be right buggers when they want to be."

His defences faltered under Harry's description of the innocuous dishes, and the smile won, tugging at the corners of his mouth despite his attempts to stop it. "I'm sure they'll be perfect, just like everything else tonight."

Harry returned his smile and moved a little closer. "Are you managing to enjoy yourself? I haven't seen you scowl too much."

"It's been…tolerable," Severus said, and Harry grinned at him.

"Do you really think I don't speak your language? I'm fluent now, Professor. 'Tolerable' means that you've had more fun than you expected and you're not going to hex me to kingdom come for making you go through it."

"That's what you think, is it?" Severus asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"That's what I know," Harry corrected. "I'm right, aren't I? This was ok for you?"

Severus could hear the concern in his voice, the worry that he had forced Severus into something he'd hated, and Severus felt a rush of warmth settle in his chest.

"You really needn't trouble yourself," he said shaking his head dismissively.

"I do need to," Harry said softly, and Severus raised a questioning eyebrow. "This is your home, I want you to feel comfortable here, to be happy here."

Severus didn't know what to say to that. How could he tell Harry that the last few months had been the happiest and most content of his life? How could he tell the man that the wonky little house in the middle of nowhere felt more like home to him than anywhere had done, even Hogwarts? He cleared his throat, his mouth feeling suddenly dry, and said,

"Harry, whatever concerns you may have, let me assure you that they're unfounded."

Harry's smile went all the way to his eyes, and something in Severus' stomach coiled hotly. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull Harry into his arms, to hold him and kiss that beautiful mouth, but he knew he couldn't. Harry was meant for better than him, for a man whose soul wasn't tainted with murder and bloodshed, a man who could give him everything he deserved.

"I think I might take a few moments in the library," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as strained as it felt. He tried to affect a smirk and said, "I believe some time away from the Weasley hordes would serve to keep my impending headache at bay."

"Of course," Harry said, reaching out and gripping his forearm gently, rubbing his thumb against the material of Severus' shirt. "Just make sure you come back for my amazing quiches, if the little bastards don't betray me," he added, casting a baleful look back to the oven.

Severus gave a soft snort and Harry released his arm. Every time Harry stopped touching him Severus couldn't help but feel a sense of loss, but he stamped it down firmly and made his retreat to the library.

It seemed, however, that his idea to seek solitude in the cosy little room had already been seized upon by other opportunists. As he neared the doorway, he saw Ron and Draco standing in front of the cheery little fireplace. Draco's hands were resting on Ron's waist, while Ron had one hand resting on the small of Draco's back, the other placed on his cheek.

They were murmuring softly, smiling shyly at one another, their eyes bright and vibrant. Slowly, Ron lowered his head and met Draco's lips in a soft and gentle kiss, pulling the man closely against his body. It was so tender, so sweet that Severus couldn't help but smile as he watched them melt into one another, finally giving in to the feelings that were so palpable.

It was a private moment, one that they deserved, one that Severus wished he could share with Harry. He turned around and moved away from the door, leaving the two men alone to enjoy their time together.


AN: Sorry to dump Christmas on you in the middle of summer, but hopefully you'll forgive me! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please drop me a review and let me know.

Many thanks to my lovely beta Tanja for keeping me in check!