Author's Notes: I am back from two weeks of sun, sand, and sea. No internet, though, so I apologise to all of you who have been waiting for an update all the time. It was a rather spontaneous decision. A good one, though, as I am several chapters ahead now, all of them longer of what I tend to create during lesson time. Ah, the pleasure of writing. And I even had time to do a bit of "Notes" writing. So, all in all, an enjoyable summer so far. Hope for you lot as well.
On Christmas morning Severus woke with a start.
Nothing unusual these days - his dreams were usually filled with all kinds of memories, and, Severus found, he did not have too many pleasant ones to choose from, at least not of a kind that let you sleep peacefully for a full nine or ten hours each night. He realised that he had not had more than eight hours of sleep for over a month now and then decided that it was time to get up and dressed.
His wardrobe was one of the old-fashioned kind. As, indeed, almost all the furniture in the house, except, perhaps, for mother's bedside table, which had been a gift from one of her friends at school. It was screaming blue and Severus knew that his father hated it. But there you had it - the only person seeming to have any influence at all on the bull-sized soldier these days was his little 5'2 wife. Virbia Longbottom Snape had been in an astoundingly good state of mind for weeks. Ever since Severus had returned she had been talking to him about all sorts of things, enquiring rather pleasantly about his life at Hogwarts and his friends. Severus had realised how much she was missing him during the term only when she alluded to the Easter holidays and how much she would like him to return for those two weeks instead of him staying at Hogwarts. Even though she had to know that those were directly before the end-of-year exams and thus his only real chance of getting some revision done. She had also not yelled at him once since his return and known his name at all times, which Severus found to be an improvement to their last encounter.
When he opened his bedroom door, Severus peered cautiously through a small gap in it before stepping down the staircase and into the hallway. It was a habit rather than necessary at the moment, as his father had not returned from Azkaban yet, of course.
In an unusual fit of daring, Severus decided to go and see whether his mother was already awake. He stepped towards the door behind the staircase, hesitated just for a second, then opened the door just a crack.
It was very dark inside. The even breathing of a person on the right side of the bed told him that his mother was there but asleep and that it was probably best not to disturb her. So he withdrew, shutting the door quietly, turned, and was lifted into the air by his collar before having time to even gasp.
'Severus!' snarled a well-known voice, belonging to the person lifting him into the air without effort. 'What did I tell you about this room?'
Severus's heart sank to the bottom of his knees.
'I didn't go in! I swear I -...'
'What did I tell you?'
'I w-wasn't breaking the rules. I s-swear I never set foot in it! I was just looking. I just wanted to...'
'Severus!'
Severus felt his insides cramp and his eyes unable to return the icy glare that was watching him up and down, waiting for an answer. Eventually he gave up.
'Don't enter the downstairs bedroom,' he whispered. 'I am... I mustn't enter it. Never... go in.' The last words were the least audible ones, but his father seemed to have heard well enough. After a short pause he lowered his son back to the floor, watching the small door behind Severus with a pensive air about him.
'Good for you, you didn't,' he said coldly.
Severus stared at the floor, feeling himself getting tense and very nervous, as usual when his father was around and not in the best of moods.
'How is she?' enquired the soldier now and Severus looked up in surprise.
'Mother?'
'Of course,' snapped the soldier. 'Who else? Has she been... well?'
'Ever since I was here,' said Severus timidly. 'She knows who I am.'
'That certainly is a good sign,' said his father and Severus could not help notice a minuscule smile playing around his lips. 'And apart from that?'
'Lance!' The door flung open and Severus's mother stormed out, her white night-dress flattering around her legs, her face full of pleasant excitement as she flung herself around the soldier's neck kissing every part of his face. 'You're back! You're back! You're back! You're back! You're back!'
Severus looked away, unsure what to think, but feeling himself smile indistinctly at his mother's unexpected outbreak. His father seemed surprised as well.
'I see you are in the best of moods,' he said quietly, bending just slightly to give her hands the opportunity to close behind his neck.
'Well, it's Christmas,' said his wife happily. 'We are going to have a wonderful day and then go up to Gladia's, won't we? As every year?'
'Of course,' said her husband as quietly.
'And Severus even put up a sock,' said Virbia happily. 'Haven't you, Puffskein? Have you checked it already?'
The sock. Of course.
Severus shook his head quickly and hurried to the living-room, where, at his mother's behest, he had hung up one of his socks the day before, more to please her than himself, really, as he had found out there was no such thing as Father Christmas by the age of three. There was also a small Christmas tree in one of the corners, which his mother had summoned after some consideration, in spite of the fact that they would be spending the evening at Grimmauld Place. Severus approached the fireplace wearing a rather doubtful look on his face, trying not to imagine his father's expression as he reached for the sock and peered in carefully, as if afraid of its content.
It turned out, however, that he had forgotten just how excellent it was to receive Christmas presents just like that. The packet "someone" ('Mother Christmas,' he thought, grinning) had managed to squeeze into the small sock was large and squashy and there were red and yellow dots on the paper. Severus inclined his head, gazed at the unusual sight for a few moments, then, very cautiously, feeling just slightly nervous, opened it.
To his surprise, he looked into the eyes of a rather bandy-legged dragon. Not a real one, obviously, but a soft toy, grey in colour, which was staring up at him through large, artificial eyes, seeming to say, 'You are a young man of pride. Cuddle me!'
Severus frowned and looked up. He was almost certain that he had actually heard those words, but was sure not the dragon had spoken them. Taking the animal out of its paper wrapping he gazed around, wondering whether Skein was back (as this was just the kind of joke he would make), and eventually looked back at the dragon, a warm feeling suddenly spreading inside him, making him smile at the stuffed animal.
'Isn't he a bit old for this kind of toy?' came his father's dark voice from the door and Severus turned.
'I wouldn't know,' replied his mother cheerfully. 'You think you are too old to play, Puffskein?'
'I think he is wonderful,' replied Severus after a second's thought. 'I am going to call him Pebble.'
'Pebble?' said his father, frowning. 'Don't be ridiculous. You can't mean you are actually going to name it?'
'Oh, don't be so gruffy, darling,' said Virbia cheerfully. 'I am sure you used to play with stuffed animals when you were young.'
'I most certainly did not,' snapped the soldier and Severus had the distinct impression that he was not lying.
A memory suddenly came to his mind, of a Christmas long past, when his father had been with them for the first time ever - according to what his mother had told him in later years. Severus, of course, had been no older than four or five and could thus not quite remember the details of this specific encounter. He did remember, however, that the day had lead to a disaster, with his father shouting at him and even at his wife for taking her son's side in a matter, which Severus now preferred to forget. It had not been a happy Christmas. Not at all.
'And in any case,' said his mother, 'it is not just a toy. When he's grown -'
Severus's mouth fell open at the thought of the stuffed animal growing even further and his father frowned.
'Grown?'
'They do grow,' said Virbia sternly. 'And they need a lot of care. He is one of Weasley's down in Metacamden. Excellent man, I can tell you.'
'So, what did you say he was going to do?' enquired her husband weakly.
'He is a waker,' beamed Virbia. 'A bit like an alarm clock, really, only that it is a lot nicer to be woken by him. Weasley is making a fortune of them.'
'Can't be the Weasley branch I am acquainted with then,' muttered Severus's father. Virbia smiled slightly and pressed his hand, making the soldier shift edgily, give Severus a side-glance, and then, thinking that the boy was engaged with his Christmas present, place a very brief kiss on the tip of his wife's nose. Virbia beamed. Severus took great care of fighting the temptation to grin and stared straight at his dragon instead, not moving.
His mother, on the other hand, now pointed at the mantelpiece once more, making Severus turn and look at another sock. A larger one, in black. His father raised an eyebrow at it and another one at his wife. Questioning.
'Why on earth... I trust it is not another cuddly toy?'
'Open it,' whispered Virbia, throwing a meaningful glance at the mantelpiece and then at Severus. 'I thought you might like some napkins.' She grinned.
The soldier did not reply, but he went and inspected the sock nevertheless, giving it a look that let the hair on Severus's back curl. He pulled the brim of the sock with one finger, peered in, and eventually pulled forth a small, solid parcel - a bit too fast not to appear interested in its content. Within a moment he had opened it and was staring at a tiny, blue hourglass that was filled with several screaming pink bubbles.
'A time-turner,' he said, looking baffled. 'How on earth did you come by such a thing?'
'Oh, it's just a small one,' said Virbia, a smile spreading on her pale face. 'You can't go back more than ten or twenty minutes, I should say. But I thought it might come in handy if ever you are late for a meeting.'
'Which is yet to happen,' replied the soldier, smiling warmly. 'But I shall use it to return home ten minutes early whenever I can.'
Severus made a mental note on the fact that his father would be able to be in two places at once from now on. His mother beamed and took the soldier's big hands into hers.
'And we shall be looking forward to that, won't we, Puffskein?'
Severus nodded absently.
'All this business of giving things to each other,' said his father after a short moment's silence. 'It really is quite unnecessary.'
'I know you don't approve of it,' said Virbia quietly. 'But when I saw the timeturner I wanted you to have it.'
'Well,' said her husband sternly, 'as a matter of fact, there is something I would like you to have as well. And,' he nodded towards Severus, 'the boy.' After another moment of silence he added, 'Found both items this afternoon and thought they might come in handy.' He went over to the fireplace, drew his wand, threw a handful of floo powder into the fire and said, 'Transferre.'
A jet of flames emerged, and two parcels. One quite small, the other oblong and big, though obviously not very heavy. The soldier gave it to his son with an expression on his face, which Severus found difficult to read.
'Open it.'
Severus did and immediately felt his insides turn.
'Thought you might like to have your own broom when the new term starts,' said his father, watching his son's reaction with interest. 'I am sure they'll let you into the Quidditch team if you put a bit of effort into your flying.'
Severus said nothing. Instead, he looked at his mother, who was holding a pair of small, round mirrors in her hands, one looking like the other, the two of them bearing the obvious purpose of communication. She was beaming.
'I'll be able to call you at any time,' she laughed, not realising that Severus had gone comparatively pale around the nose. 'And I will. At random points of the day. Even when you're on duty.'
The soldier grinned. 'I know you will. And I hope you will use it in case of an emergency, too,' he added, his voice bearing traces of concern and a sincere gravity in it. Then his look returned to Severus. Stern and thoughtful, not unfriendly, still bearing the odd shimmer of what Severus suspected was his father's kind of excitement. He tried to smile.
'Well, go on,' said the soldier, and unfathomable undertone in his voice. 'Let's see you do some flying.'
'Not in here, Lance,' said his mother quickly. 'The tree.'
'Why on earth did you summon one anyway?' enquired her husband, walking over towards the balcony door. 'It's not as though we shall be spending much time in here over Christmas.'
'I felt like it,' was the simple reply.
Severus felt his stomach cramp as his father, considering this for a moment, nodded curtly and opened the balcony door. He knew what was expected of him and did not like the thought. He was afraid of that balcony - had always been, but what was even more frightening was the idea of mounting a potentially dangerous flying device in order to hover some fifteen feet above the ground. A concrete ground.
'Maybe later,' he mumbled, feeling his face flush.
His father frowned. 'I think not. We shall not have time later, and I have to be back at the camp first thing tomorrow morning.'
Severus threw an agitated look at his mother, then at the balcony door. His insides seemed to be turning. 'I... I'd rather not,' he whispered. 'Not now... not... not the balcony. I don't think that'd be a good idea.'
He was sweating. He knew it. His father on the other hand, had raised one eyebrow, slowly, very dangerously, and gave him another icy look.
'You don't think so, do you?'
'Leave him,' said his mother nervously. 'Lance, if he doesn't want to fly...'
'...then it is quite clear why he brings home such abysmal grades, isn't it?' snarled his father. 'If he refuses to even try.'
'Madame Hooch advised me to not start off from anywhere above ground level,' said Severus quickly. 'I'm just... not good enough yet.'
'NOT GOOD ENOUGH?' Within seconds his father had leapt up and Severus felt himself lifted into the air by his collar once again. 'NOT GOOD ENOUGH? JUST HOW THICK TO YOU THINK I AM? YOU HAVE HAD FLYING LESSONS FOR OVER A YEAR NOW, MY SON! DON'T YOU THINK IT IS ABOUT TIME YOU STARTED GAINING APTITUDE?!'
'Plus,' said a calm voice from the door, 'Madame Hooch never said that you weren't good. She only advised you to be careful with where you start off. Are you lying at your own father?'
Severus turned around wildly. His mother was standing next to the door, quite flabbergasted at her husband's outbreak, side-glancing at Skein, who was leaning in the door frame, balancing on one leg, giving Severus derisive looks.
'And you haven't been making an effort, have you?' he said.
Severus yelled, 'SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!' at exactly the same moment as his mother hissed, 'Shut up, Licinius!' which Severus knew Skein called himself in front of her. Then a mighty blow met his face and for a moment he could not see anything but white and yellow stars dancing in front of his eyes and around his father's head.
'WHAT DID YOU CALL ME??!!'
'No-o...' said Severus weakly, wondering how to explain this, before another blow came down upon him, and another.
'Don't you dare talk to me like that,' snarled his father, tightening his grip. 'Don't you dare tell me to shut up!' Severus felt his face explode with pain once again, pulled a pained grimace, and bit back the upcoming tears, only half taking in the accompanying lecture.
'No talking back! Who do you think you are? An idiot, am I? And how often do I have to tell you that you are not to shout at me!'
Another sharp slap, half meeting the ear this time, seemed to tear his head apart.
Severus dissolved in tears. He could not help it. Struggling helplessly against the massive soldier's iron grip he tried to explain himself, but all that came out of his mouth were suppressed sobs and some unintelligible stammering. His father was not pleased.
'Get a grip onto yourself,' he snarled eventually, letting to of his son's robes, glaring into his face. 'Don't you think that was all I have to say to the matter. You are such a child, Sev-'
He stopped, suddenly, staring at a point behind Severus, who turned quickly to see what was wrong. The blurred picture of the living-room door appeared in his sight, and a heap on the floor. There was no sign of Skein anywhere and it took Severus several moments to realise who the heap on the floor must be.
'Virbia!'
With a clank Severus felt himself pushed against a bookshelf, saw his father skid past him and towards his wife, who had collapsed in the door frame. Within seconds he lifted the small woman in his broad arms, without apparent effort, and carried her out of the room towards the small door under the staircase. His son, it seemed, he had forgotten the instant his wife had lost consciousness. Severus took the opportunity to slip out of the living-room and upstairs as to not be in the way when his father came out of the bed-room again, possibly looking for someone to blame for this. Without a sound Severus closed his own bed-room door and sank down on his bed, his face covered with both hands.
'Mother,' he whispered, fighting a new flood of tears - unsuccessfully. 'Mother...'
