After all this time, Remus still loved waking up next to his lover in the morning.

He loved the feel of ice-cold feet being pressed against his calves to steal their warmth; he loved the fact that his first yawn inhaled choking strands of black and silver hair; he loved the grumpy snort which answered his bright and musical 'good morning' every single time. It usually took Severus ten minutes or so to recover sufficient energy after his night's sleep to be pleasant, and Remus loved to observe the tortuous process.

Today was no exception.

"Merry Christmas, love!" he trilled to the bony form cocooned in blankets beside him. Most of the blankets, in fact.

"'Fyou say so," Snape grumbled, burrowing deeper and sliding frozen fingers into Lupin's armpit. Remus yelped in shock.

"Yes, I do say so," he recovered quickly, marvelling at Severus' astounding talent for absorbing coldth. "The sun is shining and it's a beautiful Christmas day!"

"Middle of the night," Snape grunted.

"It's nine a.m. and I have a lovely present for you!" Remus beamed.

"Oh, Goody Gumdrops."

He adored this little ritual. The darker wizard had mellowed considerably since the advent of their relationship, but at this time of day, the cantankerous git was his old, irascible self. He was sarcastic, unpleasant, selfish and mean. He complained, whined, threatened and swore. Remus baited him mercilessly until he became so cross he awoke completely and instinctively reached for his wand, only to remember that his life was happy now and that he was in love with the blasted werewolf currently tormenting him. The moment of realisation would dawn on his scowling face like a midsummer sunrise kissing the wave-crests across the bay near the Gatehouse. Remus' insides would melt every time he watched it happen.

"Bet you can't guess what it is!" he teased.

"Oh, be quiet, you obnoxious dunderhead," the snarl came from deep inside the bed.

Remus stretched his arms happily, enjoying his lover's multiple layers of personality, basking in the knowledge that however many Snapes existed under that impenetrable façade, each and every one belonged to him.

The previous evening, the couple had attended the traditional Christmas Eve party at the Burrow. Severus had been reserved, as was usual when he appeared in public, staying in the corner of the room and only speaking when spoken to. The fact that everyone in the room had made the effort to go over and speak to him at some point during the proceedings had delighted Remus, almost as much as his lover's polite replies. Even when a mildly inebriated Neville had tripped over Snape's cane and landed in his lap as he came over to wish his former Nemesis the compliments of the season, the former Curse of Gryffindor had limited himself to a single raised eyebrow and a friendly suggestion that it was perhaps time for Neville to switch to lemonade.

It had been a larger party than usual, with the entire Delacour family in attendance for the first time. Precious few of the assembled British wizards had more than a smattering of French, and likewise, the French were far from fluent in English; but the combination of good-natured gesticulation and good winter punch had everyone acting like old friends. Fleur's Grandfather, Jean-Yves, even managed to have the whole room roaring with laughter as he mimed comic events from the last time he was in England, during the Grindelwald war.

Harry had spent most of the night playing with Charlie's baby son Albus, who was fourteen months old and more vividly ginger than all of the other Weasleys put together. He adored Harry, screaming his little lungs out every time anyone else tried to hold him.

"Another helpless victim of the omnipotent Potter charisma, I see," whispered Snape, sitting just behind them. Harry, recognising the teasing tone for what it was, stuck his nose in the air.

"What can I do? It's not my fault that I'm so wonderful," he sighed with mock arrogance. Snape smirked and Harry held the baby out for him to hug. Looking uneasy, the older wizard tried his mildest and most sincere smile for little Albus. Albus was not fooled. He took one look at the dark person, dressed all in black with black-rimmed spectacles, sitting alone in the shadowy corner and burst into ear-splitting howls.

Remus glared at him accusingly from across the room.

"What?" mouthed Severus, lifting his palms in a gesture of innocence.

"Don't worry," Charlie's wife Maria laughed. "He's a fusspot at the moment! Don't take it personally."

Harry and Severus chuckled quietly at each other. It may just have been a trick of the light, but it seemed to Lupin that the potions master was looking a little too pleased with himself for still having the ability to frighten someone, even if that someone was a very small baby.

Then Gabrielle Delacour, now twenty-two and the most beautiful young woman Remus had ever seen, had reduced everyone to tears with a spine-tingling rendition of "Douce nuit, sainte nuit." For the second verse, everyone joined in using their own language, making an oddly touching blend of words which made the old werewolf believe, just for a moment, that the world could be a peaceful, harmonious place. Severus surreptitiously dabbed at the corner of his eye with a handkerchief.

"Damnable scented candles," he tutted at Harry, who was looking at him questioningly.

"Sure," smiled the young man, wiping the steam from his own glasses.

Remus smiled at the memory, turning back to his grumpy partner.

"Well, my love, if you're not ready to get up and celebrate Christmas, I suppose I shall just have to start without you!" He threw back the covers and swung both feet over the side of the bed but was prevented from standing by the thin hand which shot out like lightening and grabbed his wrist. Turning slowly he found himself on the receiving end of an intense black stare which tingled all the hairs on the back of his neck.

"I do not think so," whispered Severus with a devastatingly sexy coldness, apparently more awake than Remus had realised.

A sharp tug sent Lupin tumbling backwards into bed.

…….

Three hours later, Remus stretched languidly.

"Mmm," he sighed, sated and supremely content. "I'm starving. Let's have some breakfast."

"Mph," groaned Severus, his head resting on his lover's chest.

"Come on, we'll have a shower and some nice kippers for brunch!" he licked his lips at the thought, having just worked up a monstrous appetite. Gently pushing Snape off him, he tried again to sit upright and put a foot on the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" enquired Snape with a Medusean glare.

"Down to my kitchen to make some food," Remus replied, swallowing nervously in the beam of those harsh eyes. Those fathomless, captivating, luscious, glittering eyes, which were devouring his newly-ravished body with the sort of expression that is the last thing a wildebeest ever sees. Remus' lips were suddenly dry again.

The elegant white hand wrapped itself around his arm and hauled him back down.

"Severus!" the protest was feeble, but nevertheless, Snape stopped nibbling at his earlobe long enough to ask;

"Yes?"

"Stop that!"

"Whatever for?"

"We shouldn't!"

Black eyes rolled impatiently.

"I shall not dignify that pathetic statement with a response," the sneer gave his lover the chills, and he returned to exploring the lycanthropic ear with which was fascinating him so.

…….

It was two-thirty before they finally managed to head downstairs to the kitchen. The winter sun which had bathed the bedroom golden earlier in the day had been extinguished by ominous-looking grey clouds rolling down from the Peak District. The couple were at Remus' Derbyshire cottage for the festive season, deeming it more cosy than the grey old Snape house, which was very much at the mercy of a cruel coastal wind in the depths of winter.

Josty the house elf had taken the news with suspiciously good grace, chattering happily about spending time at the castle where her 'friend' lived.

"Her friend?" Remus had asked. "Oh dear, Hermione would be ashamed of me for being shocked that elves can have friends, too!"

"I rather think that the term 'friend' is a euphemism, in this case," Snape had smirked lewdly. Lupin's jaw hit the floor.

"Josty has a boyfriend?" he gaped.

"Why not?" Severus teased. "Even a nasty, poisonous potions master has managed to find a poor gullible fool to take him to bed. Why not an old elf? Besides, I believe the two of you have met."

"Oh, I doubt it, Severus," he had replied. "I only know one living house-elf and that's…" He tailed off on seeing the look on the other's face.

"Dobby," grinned Snape.

"Dobby?" Remus repeated, incredulous.

"Indeed. She goes up to Hogwarts to visit him every Saturday night," he frowned as though trying to remember something. "From what little she tells me, I gather they go up to the Astronomy Tower and…"

"OK, OK, I get the idea," the werewolf shuddered. "Elves are wonderful creatures, but there are some mental images I do not need."

So Remus had made all the preparations for Christmas himself. As usual, Severus had been indifferent to the entire phenomenon, but knowing that his partner had a series of small traditions which he enjoyed upholding, he did everything that was asked of him, and refrained from sneering too often. The only thing he had insisted upon was that at least one day over the festive period should be spent alone, just the two of them, without any interference from anyone else. With the Weasley's party on Christmas Eve and Minerva's lunch on Boxing Day, they had decided to set aside the big day itself for spending quality time.

For the first time, Harry was spending Christmas with Hazel's family in Godric's Hollow. She was the eldest of five sisters, and as her parents had divorced several years ago, there was also a positive army of step-siblings, grandparents and even an adorable four-year-old autistic half-brother who kept everyone on their toes. The Boy-who-lived was thrilled at the prospect of such a lively Christmas.

"He says that now," Snape had rubbed his long fingers together with a grim sort of glee. "I wonder how he will sound after the over-excited brats have ground him down with a whole day of fighting, screeching, being sick and playing practical jokes on him?"

Remus had immediately agreed with Severus, but understood Harry's fascination with big families, having been so isolated for most of his miserable childhood. This was a real milestone in his relationship with Hazel and Remus hoped everything went well.

The kitchen at Laburnum Cottage was delightfully quiet now as the two wizards prepared the small goose for dinner and laid out kippers, cheese, fresh bread and pickles for a very belated Christmas breakfast.

They ate in companionable silence. Remus was so hungry he had demolished four kippers and an enormous wedge of stilton before he felt able to slow down and make conversation.

"Do you think it will snow?" he asked, eyeing the clouds outside. It had grown so dark they had been forced to light the lamps.

"Rain is more usual in this part of the country," Severus observed dryly.

"But snow is so festive!" protested the werewolf, allowing his childish delight to show on his face, flushing pink and smiling at the memory of white Christmases every year at school in the frozen Scottish Highland castle. His sharp ears picked up the faintest hint of a growl from his partner. "Severus? Are you all right?"

"Have you finished eating?" the Slytherin answered the question with another question.

"Yes, thank you. Why?"

Lupin did not even see him move.

The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back on the kitchen floor, with an amorous potions master stretched out on top of him, tearing at the clothing he had only recently donned, caressing and kissing every inch of skin, all the while making that tiny growling sound in the back of his throat.

"S…Severus?" he gasped, wondering if he had inadvertently doused himself in Snape-nip at some point that morning.

"It's your own fault," the darker man grunted unapologetically. "You're glowing again."

He supposed it was the excitement of Christmas which was radiating from him. There was no excuse to be acting like a kid at his age, but somehow this time of year always made him happy and peaceful. Snape had mentioned the effect that Remus' 'glowing' had on him, citing it as the reason he had first agreed to go to share his bed all those years ago. Apparently this had not faded over time.

Not that Lupin was complaining. His last coherent thought was that there was absolutely no better way to celebrate the season of love and goodwill than by going at it like teenagers on the kitchen floor.

In the next room, a pile of colourful gifts lay unopened beneath the beautifully decorated pine tree; while outside, unobserved by the cottage's occupants, the gentlest white flakes of snow began tumbling from the frozen sky.

…….

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little bit of festive fluff, which I couldn't resist writing as I reflected on what present Snape might want.

'Douce nuit, sainte nuit' is, of course, 'Silent Night' in French. If anyone knows where I might acquire any 'Snape-nip', please let me know.

From a messy desk in a sub-zero degree office in a very festive corner of London, I wish all of you a peaceful and happy Christmas, and look forward to a brand new year of fanfiction joy! Thanks once again for taking the time to read.

With very much love,

SN x