CHAPTER 35

A/N: First of all, thanks a lot for your patience! Lots of squashy hugs to you!

Secondly, some of you have asked me for the link to Diagonalist's Flawed Lines, and also for the factsheet for Marius Rivers (Severus's ex from Tears of Healing). You can find both links on my profile page. I have also posted an entry on my blog about writing intimate scenes...and why I absolutely dread writing them! :-)

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How was I supposed to go about "seducing" you, Severus Snape? A combination of scheming and spontaneity sounded quite promising. Right?

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When Mrs Weasley and her husband entered the room, Severus and Harry let go of each other, Harry greeting the couple affectionately while Severus offered them a stiff nod followed by a formal "Good evening, Mrs Weasley...Mr Weasley..."

Molly Weasley glared at him.

"You will kindly call us by our first names, young man. You are our son-in-law."

Severus went brick red and allowed himself to be ushered into the dining room to join the rest of the wizarding folk for a sumptuous dinner. Harry ate with the appetite of a healthy young teen, and even Severus managed a second helping. The twins kept shooting roguish glances at Harry and Severus, not noticing that they themselves were being watched by a vigilant Hermione. The result was that Mrs Weasley stomped into the twins' room after supper and confiscated the Extendable Ears and Eyes in stony silence.

"You're a complete spoilsport, Hermione," Fred commented bleakly.

"There's no way you're going to spy on people's sex lives! Voyeurism is below you," she observed coldly.

"Hey, hey, we were only joking, we're not as perverted as you think!" George defended himself. Ron wisely sought refuge in a game of Gobstones with Remus and Tonks, trying to maintain a sense of diplomacy around his girlfriend and brothers. Severus was taking a shower upstairs in the enormous bathroom, and Harry and Ginny were talking about Quidditch, sex, relationships and Telepathy while they played wizarding Scrabble. Before bedtime, everyone rushed to their respective rooms to fetch their Christmas parents and place them underneath the tree before heading off for a shower. The bathroom at Grimmauld Place was quite unique. Each person had their very own bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower stall plus a name plaque on the door. Harry's cell was located between Severus's and the twins' cubicles. Harry made sure to place a very strong Silencing Charm on the walls while he showered, fantasised about Severus and attended to his needs in a manner which, to use Fred and George's terminology, made him both a howler and a growler. He could not speak, but he could still produce gasps and cries which echoed off the bathroom tiles. It seemed to him that once sexuality kicked in, it stubbornly insisted on making adolescence and adulthood infinitely more complicated and somehow cruel. Ah well, he mused, that was the human being and human nature. He discovered that he was happily nervous about the prospect of sharing a room with Severus Snape, especially for several nights to come.

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Severus eyed his grey nightshirt with distaste, resisting the temptation to incinerate it. It was, he had to admit, a decidedly unflattering garment. He flicked some robes (all black, of course) aside and pulled out a plain two-piece set of sleepwear (also black). He decided to pull on his pair of favourite fluffy socks when Harry was tucked away in bed. A psychologically hardened man like him was not expected to wear or cherish anything fluffy, after all, he thought scornfully. He could, of course, have cast a warming spell on his cold toes, but he preferred socks: they were a pleasant soft barrier between his feet and the mattress. The door opened, and Harry stepped inside, his hair moist and those green eyes sparkling. He was dressed in a light-blue t-shirt and grey sweat pants. His feet (Severus tried not to stare at those spotless straight toes and shapely ankles) were enticingly bare when he drew them out of their winter slippers. An awkward silence spread inside the room, briefly interrupted by a very soft cough from Phineas Nigellus's portrait on the wall. Severus jerked his head abruptly at Harry's wizarding clock (purchased during a Hogsmeade meeting) on the table between their beds.

"It is half past eleven," he announced. Harry looked amused.

/Yes, it is,/ he confirmed.

"I suggest that we go to sleep," Severus said, trying to keep his restless hands under control. He folded them on his lap, showing no signs of slipping underneath the sheets.

/Shall I tuck you in?/ Harry asked cheekily.

"Thank you, that is quite unnecessary," Severus growled and proceeded to assume a horizontal position in bed. Harry rose, rummaged around their shared clothes cupboard for a few moments and pulled out a pair of mismatched socks knitted for him by Dobby. Severus tried not to wince as Harry drew the thick monstrosities over his feet. There was another cough from Phineas's canvas. Severus pulled out his wand.

"Albus, as you well know, is in the possession of lemon drops, Phineas."

The former headmaster stalked into view, staring down his nose at the couple. Harry was half sitting, half lying in bed, one knee drawn up and the other leg stretched out.

Phineas continued gazing at them, then shook his head slowly with a look of utter exasperation spreading over his face and strutted out of his canvas without a single word.

Muttering, Severus placed his wand on his side of the table. Harry did the same. Another silence ensued. Then Harry suddenly burst out laughing. Severus, puzzled and confused, stared at him glacially. Five minutes later, Harry climbed out of bed, wiping away tears of laughter.

/Budge up a little, will you, Severus?/ he asked quite politely. Severus spluttered.

"You want to lie inside my bed?" he barked incredulously.

/Yes – just for a bit, if you don't mind. And with you still in it./

"Actually, I do mi-" Severus was interrupted by Harry raising the bedclothes and sliding underneath them.

/Okay. Severus, I'm not going to bite you. This is my way of convincing you./

Severus took a deep breath.

"Harry, there are a number of reasons why this is unwise."

Harry's face became serious.

/Severus, I know what you are thinking of./ He carefully placed his hand on top of Severus's. /Please don't push me back or pull away from me. I am glad to finally share the same room with you during the holidays./

Severus determinedly blocked out the fact that he, too, was glad about this circumstance. The spouses faced each other, locked in eye speech until Severus remarked: "I think it's time for you to return to your own bed."

/Oh, okay. Good night, Severus./

"Good night, Harry./

Harry slipped over to his own bed and turned off the light with a flick of his wand. Tense silence, this time underlined with a sense of disappointment, crept back into the room. Severus quietly pulled on his fluffy socks underneath the sheets. Harry settled himself on his side, exhaled deeply and was quiet. After an hour, Severus's hand inched towards the hot aching organ between his thighs.

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"Well, Phineas?" Dumbledore asked, dressed in turquoise night robes.

Phineas sniffed disapprovingly. "They are not taking advantage of their conjugal or spatial privileges."

"They still have two weeks' time," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

Phineas huffed. "Two centuries would be more adequate."

"Now, now, Phineas, I'm sure the Christmas spirit will move things along."

Phineas pretended to go to sleep. Dumbledore swished away to his bedroom, smiling enigmatically.

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