The fire in the grate burst to life as Severus entered his rooms. He immediately shucked his teaching robes, throwing them over the back of his wingback chair, before sinking onto his couch. After a moment, he kicked off his shoes and swung his feet up so he was lying across the expanse of the black furniture piece. He could no more have helped the small smile that graced his features than he could the large nose that sat above it.

Potter, he'd been surprised to discover, was interesting. He had a fascinating perspective on the adventures his life had thus far held, and he had an amazing ability to turn what should have been terrifying experiences into something humorous. The Gryffindor had come for what would be his last remedial lesson this afternoon, soaked to the bone after having missed lunch with a few of the younger Years. As soon as the lesson had ended, Severus had insisted on being told why Potter had been absent from the meal.

"I got trapped in a snowball fight with some of the younger kids," Potter had explained. "Snowball fights always remind me of meeting Voldemort in my First Year."

Severus had, of course, inquired as to how something so carefree could be equated to a meeting with the Dark Lord that had almost killed him. Potter had chuckled and explained that, if Severus' recalled, Fred and George had gotten in trouble that year for spelling snowballs to bounce off the back of Quirrel's turban. And it was under Quirrel's turban that Voldemort had been hiding.

"I didn't realize it at the time, being scared as I was," Potter had said. "But when I was recovering later in the Infirmary, I remembered. The twins had unknowingly spelled snowballs to smack Voldemort in the face. I laughed so hard that Madame Pomfrey thought I was hysterical and forced me to take a calming potion."

The imagery Potter had presented, along with the young man's barely contained laughter, had surprised a chuckle out of Severus. They had then proceeded to sit together for over an hour in the classroom, as Potter regaled him with humorous twists on his deadly exploits throughout his First Year, including his meeting with the troll. Severus, who still felt mild anxiety each time he recalled what had nearly happened to Lily's son while he had been off after the Dark Lord in disguise, had been surprised to find himself laughing over the memory. By the time Potter had left, Severus had forgotten his anger, and his concern, towards the young man. He still felt amazed at how swiftly Potter had made him feel good, and it was this that made him smile as he relaxed on his couch. It was the first time he had ever found someone who indulged in dark humor so similar to his own, and it was somewhat startling that this someone was the young man he had hated for more than seven years. Still, it was a nice sort of surprise.

With another sigh, Severus sat up on his couch again. He needed to get Potter out of his head. He still had marking to be done, which he had put off until now. The students would arrive tomorrow for the New Year, and classes resumed at the end of the weekend. Scrubbing his face, Severus' moved to stand, only to stop as he spotted a package resting on his low coffee table. With a frown, he picked up the nondescript brown parcel. It was addressed to him in Potter's messy scrawl.

Tearing off the brown paper and twine, Severus opened the package to find a note sitting atop a placard. He picked up the note, and thumbed open the fold.

Happy Christmas, Professor

I know it's late, but I didn't realize that special ordering anything would take so long in the Wizarding World. Just think of this as a small token of appreciation for the attention you've paid to my schooling. I know I'm not the quickest learner, and it means a lot that you've taken the time to instruct me in Potions when you could have just dismissed me.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Severus frowned and looked inside the box. The placard was inset under the framed glass in two separate compartments. The first compartment on the left, deeper than second, had a potions phial suspended perpetually against a velvet backdrop. Severus immediately recognized the phial's contents as being a Draught of Living Death. In the second framed compartment was a silver placard with the very same words he repeated to every First Year class in their first ever Potions lesson.

Severus felt a small, heartening chuckle bubble in his throat as he pulled the personalized gift from its package. The potion within held special meaning between him and Potter, and he distantly wondered if that wasn't why the younger wizard had chosen it. In Potter's first class, it was this very potion that had been the answer to Severus' first unfair question following his speech. More recently, it was the first potion Potter had brewed in his remedial lessons.

Standing up, Severus put the box back on the table and carried the framed gift and note to the undecorated mantle above his fireplace. Carefully, he set the deep frame onto the wooden mantle, and settled the folded parchment beside it. With a final look of appreciation for the thoughtfulness of the Wizarding Savior, he turned towards his office. There was still marking to be done.

As he worked diligently through to dinner, Severus found his mind wandering every so often to the best gift he'd received for the holiday. More often, his thought strayed to the Gryffindor who had sent it. Each time his thoughts roamed, a small smile would twist the corners of his mouth, though he hardly noticed that.