VI

Severus would later recall hearing the clock chime one, but he did not stir from his bed until he was abruptly grabbed by the arm and tossed across his room, causing him to look around wide-eyed in surprise. Shock was replaced by recognition, and he let out a loud groan.

"Oh, no. Anyone but you," Severus grumbled.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing myself," said the ghost of James Potter.

"Go away, you don't exist. You don't have a ghost," Severus said, crawling back to his bed. But James put a foot on his hand to stop him. "Get off of me!"

"You're not getting past me that easy, Snape. I have a few bones to pick with you, and none of them mine," James said. "The only ghost there is of me is the one in your head, of course, but you're going to answer to me anyhow. After Sirius told me what happened, there was no way I was going to sit back and watch you torture my son any more. What's wrong, Severus, he growing up too much like me to suit you?"

"For starters, yes," Severus snarled, wrenching his hand away. "I may have humored Dumbledore, but if you think for one second I am going to humor you…"
"Oh, I knew you wouldn't," James said, pulling him to his feet. "But I'm not giving you any choice in the matter."

"And just how do you intend to make me?" Severus asked, grabbing his wand and clutching it in his hand.

"You idiot, do you really think that that's going to work on a ghost?"

"I plan to exorcise you," Severus said with a sneer.

"And I plan to take you out to get some exercise," James said back, grabbing his arm. "The present is harsh, but like it or not, you are going to see it," he swore, and took a step forward, dragging Severus along with a yank.

Once again, Severus found himself in the Great Hall, but this time it was quiet and barren. No decorations remained on the wall, and even the ceiling showed a rather dull, grey sky. Even the fireplaces were down to embers, and in the dim winter light it looked rather glum. Tables had been pushed back to the walls, while the chairs and benches had been dragged to the center of the room where Ron and Harry sat with a bucket of supplies and two buckets of water, although neither of them seemed very enthusiastic about their tasks.

"How's your forehead?" Ron asked.

"Better. It's finally letting up," Harry said, touching the scar. "Not that it doesn't hurt all the time these days. Anyhow, I think it's your turn. Or do I win?"

"Wait, I have another one," Ron said, pausing what he was doing. "There was the year we went down to empty our stockings and Fred had managed to sneak out in the middle of the night and turn all my candy into spiders."

"Why do all of your worst Christmases have to do with spiders?" Harry protested.

"Why do your worst Christmases all have to do with coat hangers for presents?" Ron challenged him.

"No, no…I think the year I got a single glove of Dudley's that had holes all the way through it was worse," Harry decided.

"Worse than this one as well?" Ron asked.

"Oh yeah," Harry nodded. "Because back then when I had a rotten Christmas, I didn't have anyone I could complain to about it."

"Funny, I was just thinking that this one was better because there's no one around who would mock me about it," Ron chuckled.

"I can see how that would be a plus," Harry agreed.

"What about the Tri-wizard Tournament dance? That was worse," Ron offered.

"Yeah, definitely worse," Harry nodded with a grin, drying off the chair he was working on before grabbing the polish. "I hope there isn't anything perishable in our presents."

"Probably. You know how Ginny likes to bake these days. They'll all be growing fuzz by the time we get them," Ron said glumly.

"Think it'll improve them?" Harry joked, getting Ron to grin again. But Ron's expression soon faded into a thoughtful look.

"Harry, I know this is rather personal, but I've been wondering…after all this is over and you-know-who is, well, you know, dead…do you think you're going to pick things back up with Ginny?" Ron asked. Harry's face fell, and he gazed at the wood grain for a long time.

"I don't like thinking that far ahead, Ron. So many things could go wrong before that," Harry said quietly.

"Right, I understand that, but still, how can you not try to think past this? I think I'd go insane if I didn't say to myself, 'When all of this is over…' on a regular basis."

"I suppose yours involves Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well, I can't say we haven't talked about it," Ron admitted, slightly embarrassed. Harry simply smiled at him, but went back to his polishing. "With one concession. If we do get married, it's with the understanding that I only want one kid."

"One? Just one?" Harry grinned.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "No hand-me downs. He or she is going to have the best."

"Well, if you had a girl and a boy, there still wouldn't be any hand-me-downs, Ron."

"Is that what you want? A boy and a girl?"

"At least that," Harry nodded and Ron smacked his hands together and pointed at him.

"Aha! So you have thought about it!" Ron said triumphantly.

"Well, perhaps I have, but I don't like to. There's still so much that would have to happen…and that's making the assumption I'm even going to survive this."

"Of course you will, Harry," Ron said.

"Still, to try and think about Voldemort being dead-dead…not partially dead or dead but will come back later dead but really dead, and all those Death Eaters accounted for and actually punished, and me coming out of it in one piece…it doesn't sound very realistic at this point to me," Harry said.

"I hate it when he sounds like you," James muttered in Severus' ear.

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't think you'd get much trouble from anyone in my family if you decided to join it," Ron said. Harry smiled then.

"Reminds me of the first time I walked into the Burrow, or breakfast that morning. Ever since then your parents have treated me like one of the family. That's something I never had before. So, I guess that if…and it's a very big if…we do somehow manage to get out of this, then yeah, I probably would, as long as she hasn't moved on," Harry admitted.

"She won't," Ron shrugged. "Trust me, after spending the last summer with her, she's definitely not moving on."

"I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not," Harry said, but was grinning just the same.

"Working hard, I see!"

Severus and James looked behind them to see Minerva standing in the doorway with a disapproving look on her face, and the two suddenly became intent on their work.

"All right, all right, the Headmaster isn't here with me, you can settle down," she protested, walking up to them and bringing a very large basket out from behind her. "I gather you haven't eaten this morning."

"They served porridge with a half a lump of butter for breakfast," Ron said. "For some reason, we didn't have much appetite."

"Right you are, well, consider this a brunch then. Perhaps the extra sugar will get the two of you moving to get this room done so we can set up for dinner."

"What are we going to have for that, hard rolls and water?" Ron asked sarcastically. Harry nudged him.

"Perhaps you will with that attitude, Mr. Weasley," Minerva chided him. "Now, don't forget what I said. After you eat, you really must get this room finished, by hook, wand, or crook! Happy Christmas," she said with a curled lip before leaving the room.

"Did she just give us permission to use our wands?" Harry whispered.

"Sure sounded like that to me. We'd better not let Snape catch us, though," Ron grinned, opening the basket. "Woah!" he said, even before the steam had truly had time to escape. "Look at all those mince pies!"

"Twelve for you and twelve for me, I'd gather," Harry said, tossing his rags away and rummaging through it. "Here are some sandwiches, too, and not pumpkin butter for a change. Devilled ham here. What's that, a small roast chicken?"

"Pigeon I think. Hand me that cheese, Harry, I found knives and forks and things here on the lid," Ron said. "Any bread?"

"Here," Harry said, handing it over before starting in on one of the sandwiches.

"So, what was your best Christmas ever, Harry?" Ron asked.

"That's an easy one. Christmas during my first year here at Hogwarts, of course, when I got my Dad's cloak," Harry said with a smile. James smiled softly as well. "Yours?"

"The year I got my first broom that didn't belong to anyone before me," Ron chuckled, Harry chuckling along with him.

"They were supposed to be getting punished!" Severus snarled, tightening his fists.

"Oh, come, now, you can't expect them to handle detention on that sort of scale on empty stomachs, Severus. Let the boys have a break."

"I hardly have much choice in the matter at the moment, but you can be sure I am going to speak to Minerva about it!"

"What I wouldn't do to listen in to that conversation," James said. "Look, you got what you want. They're spending Christmas on their hands and knees without any presents at all, what's one little gesture of good will going to do?"

"Obviously, it's going to undermine everything! They are here to pay for stealing that chair. They are not supposed to be having a good time!" Severus said angrily.

"Sorry, Severus, I'm afraid I can't sympathize with your position in this," James said, patting his back in a way that made Severus look even angrier. "You go about your business and never really see these boys except when they're in trouble, but I have watched my son every day since I died. And do you know, it's been almost a year since I've seen him smile like that, and all it took was one simple gesture of kindness to chip away a piece of that dark cloud surrounding him to let the light in again. It's the little things that matter, Severus, and the little things that truly determine who we are, not the big events or the big failures or accomplishments or goals or battles as you imagine them. The world will change when people change, and all people have to do to change is to turn one angry word into an understanding one. That single instant, that tiny miniscule moment in which an act of kindness you may find unnecessary happens can be the most profound moment to someone else…not in a day or a year, but a lifetime. That basket just turned one of the worst Christmases my son has ever had into one he would always remember. You he will see as nothing but a murderer."

"I could care less how he sees me, Potter," Severus said. "I do what I must."

"Perhaps you do," James said coldly. "But you also go to no great effort to do any more than you must. Come, I have more to show you." Reluctantly, Severus took James' sleeve rather than have to be wrestled to the ground again. But he was already wishing that this part of his night was over.