Title: Blue October, Volume One – Chapter Thirty-Two.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's been reading/reviewing the story so far. I've just got to say writing this made my heart ache.

Chapter Thirty-Two: A Not So Merry Christmas

The chill woke him first, beckoning him away from a wonderful dream about winning the Dagworth-Granger Award for Exemplary Potions. Grumbling under his breath, Severus allowed his eyes to drift open despite the fact that his face was still half-buried in his pillow. Hand reaching tiredly for the blanket, he pulled it up to his chin, his body curling up into a tight ball in an attempt to ward off the cold. He squeezed his eyes shut against the mounting sense of awareness that accompanied the waking hours.

In the end he spat a curse and threw the blanket away. Severus climbed out of bed and dressed hurriedly, an alarming number of goose bumps having risen upon his flesh. He combed his hair and headed in to the bathroom to take care of his morning rituals. Afterwards he went downstairs, in to the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, he retrieved the set of gifts he had hidden away; a set of potions for head colds and sore throats. He had brewed them in secret but he had suspicions that his mother had known all along and had opted not to say anything on the matter.

He took the set of potions, stabilised by a small box, and slipped them in to his satchel. Without a word he left the house; Eileen would know where he was without his prompting. Keeping his head down, Severus quickly crossed the distance between Spinner's End and Lily's house. He encountered none of Nancy's gang on his way, but that was not surprising; they would be in the middle of waking up at that very moment, rushing excitedly down the stairs to find presents under their Christmas trees.

Lily would surely be doing the same in her own house. When he arrived at the Evans' household he hesitated in the driveway before marching up to the door. Severus knocked lightly and stuffed his hands in to his pockets as he waited, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. It was Petunia who opened the door, clad in a nightdress and dressing gown, her feet hidden from view by a pair of hideously fluffy slippers. If she was surprised to see him, she did not show it; instead the girl stepped aside, allowing him inside with a sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," groused Severus, earning a snort as Petunia closed the door behind him. He headed in to the living room, the girl following along behind him. Lily was on the floor by the Christmas tree, legs crossed as she carefully removed the wrapping from a large gift. According to the label it was from Santa. "You know the man the Father Christmas legend was based on was a Wizard. He had a team full of House-Elves, used winged-horses to fly his sleigh and had a Time-turner in order to ensure he reached every house in one night."

Startled, Lily jumped and accidently ripped the wrapping paper in the process. "Blast! Don't scare me like that, Sev!" Mouth quirking in amusement, Severus shrugged his shoulders in apology as the girl climbed to her feet. Throwing her arms around him, Lily wished him a merry Christmas. He returned her embrace lightly, one hand patting her shoulder almost absentmindedly. "I didn't think you'd come over; I thought you might still be tired after Midnight Mass last night." Lily withdrew slowly, smiling at him. "Glad to see I was wrong."

"You know me; I despise wasted opportunity to grace you with my presence." Lily snorted and swatted his arm but the grin on her face ruined it. Smirking, Severus deposited his satchel on the couch carefully, opening the flap without another word. Reaching in, he withdrew the selection of potions. "These are for you and your folks," he said quietly, glancing surreptitiously towards the window. Fortunately, the curtains were still closed, ensuring that no one would see him giving this gift. "The red ones are for common colds; the vomit-coloured ones are for sore throats. They won't expire until mid-summer at the earliest."

Lily looked down at the collection of phials Severus had just pressed in to her hands. She watched the way the liquid glistened prettily in places, while seeming murky in others. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she looked up at him. Green eyes sparkled at him. "You could get in trouble for this," Lily said quietly. Her hands clutched the collection to her chest protectively. "It means a lot that you'd flout the Statute of Secrecy on our behalf; I'll never forget about this, Severus."

A mortified flush staining his cheeks, Severus shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance. It would not be the first time he had contravened the Statute; the only difference was that, this time, it was premeditated. When Mr Evans appeared in the doorway, clad in slippers, a green set of pyjamas and a dressing gown, Lily ran up to him excitedly. The man looked down at her with tired eyes, but the smile that tugged at his mouth was warm and loving; it was a smile only a father could give his daughter.

A gentle hand carded through crimson hair. Lily leaned in to her father's touch, green eyes drifting closed as a serene smile graced her face. Severus averted his gaze briefly but it did not lessen the figurative kick to the gut. "Merry Christmas, Lily," said Mr Evans, voice soft but sincere as Lily slipped an arm around his middle, resting her head against his abdomen. The girl returned the Christmas wishes and withdrew, merrily showing Mr Evans the collection of potions that Severus had given them, explaining what they were for as she did so.

Twin sets of green eyes flicked in his direction, both sets sparkling in an identical fashion. Severus rubbed the back of his neck, lowering his head under the strength of their joint intensity. He could hardly fathom why they did it so often, why they ganged up on him with their expressive eyes and overabundance of sentiment. It was almost a special brand of torture, uniquely designed to make him their fool. "It was nothing," he muttered, avoiding their gazes. "Anyone could have done the same; it was hardly a unique gift."

Mr Evans snorted and reached out, his hand ruffling Severus' hair affectionately. "It's not about the gift, Severus; it's the thought that went in to it, you know that. You want us to be healthy and that says quite a lot about how you feel." The boy flushed scarlet at the insinuation, his mouth pressing in to a thin line of discontent. Mr Evans' lips curved in a soft smile at the sight of his humiliation. Irritation mounting, Severus offered a pinched smile that was entirely forced; he made an effort not to let his irritation get the better of him, however. Today was supposed to be a day of happiness, after all. "Biscuit?"

"Yes, please," answered Severus respectfully. Mr Evans disappeared in to the kitchen, leaving the three of them alone for the time being. Severus joined Lily when she returned to the floor and watched as she continued her careful unwrapping of her gift. He had not been present the previous year, but Lily had been quick to invite him over this time around, much to his secret delight. Christmas in the Snape household was an unpleasant affair; this seemed much more wholesome and inviting.

Though jealousy reared its ugly head at irregular intervals, an odd sense of contentment settled upon him as the morning progressed. He and the Evans siblings munched on biscuits and nibbled on sweets and sipped coke from huge pint glasses that seemed excessively large in their small hands. All the while Lily and Petunia would exclaim in joy or surprise whenever they unwrapped their gifts. When the elder girl opened a small box to reveal a sparkling necklace, she jumped up from the ground and threw herself in to Mr Evans' embrace, clutching him with a maniacal desperation. His large hand rested against her blonde locks gently, warmly, as he smiled down at her in that fatherly way of his that made Severus' heart ache with something akin to want whenever he saw it.

Mrs Evans was in the kitchen; she could be heard pottering around. The steady thud of a blade against a chopping board was like music to his ears. The scent of a steadily roasting turkey was like heaven. Severus could hear Mrs Evans humming Frank Sinatra's As Time Goes By – and the only reason he knew that was because it was one of Lily's favourites and she muttered the words to herself whenever she thought he was not listening. But he always listened, even if she never realised it.

Lily had just picked up another of her presents when the telephone rang, the shrill sound stifling the chatter instantly. Mr Evans, who had been sitting on the couch, armed with a newspaper and a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea, looked up in surprise. It was clear they had not been expecting a call that morning. Leaving his cup on the coffee table, Mr Evans rose from the couch. He folded the newspaper absentmindedly and tossed it aside on his way out the door. Severus listened intently as Mr Evans answered the telephone, his shadow falling across the wall in the hallway.

"Harold Evans speaking," Mr Evans greeted evenly, though a hint of worry edged its way into his voice. Quite suddenly the worry morphed in to a mixture of confusion and alarm. "Roger, calm down, man; I can hardly understand you." Lily and Petunia went rigid, the former reaching for Severus' hand blindly, the latter paling immeasurably. Severus watched as Mr Evans' shadow quivered slightly, an arm wrapping around its middle. The man's chest heaved, once, twice. "I need you to keep it together, Roger. I...I'll be down as quick as I can; hold on. Just...just...don't do anything stupid."

Silence fell throughout the house as Mr Evans hung up; Severus had never thought silence could be loud until that moment as it rang in his ears like church bells. Mr Evans remained in the hallway for several seconds. A strangled noise escaped him, then, before he forced himself to take a deep breath that must surely have ached, given the way his arm tightened around his abdomen as the man finally stepped in to the living room. His wife appeared behind him, Christmas dinner forgotten in the wake of that telephone call.

Uttering the news was unnecessary; the truth of it was written upon Mr Evans' face. His wife's arms slipped around him from behind as she pressed her face between his shoulder blades. The man's hands found hers, clutching them tightly, as if that could possibly hold back the tide of his grief. Faces crumpling, Petunia and Lily reached for each other. Severus, knowing he was intruding but uncertain what to do, hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms awkwardly around the girls as they gave in to their mounting misery.

Petunia clutched at him with the same desperation as Lily, despite the reluctant road towards friendship the two were always skirting around. It was strange to be there, listening to them cry as if they had never cried before in their lives; it caused his abdomen to tighten uncomfortably and his heart to ache dully in his chest. Mr Evans did not cry as his daughters did; when he could bear his wife's loving, sympathetic and emotional embrace no longer he pulled away with quiet determination, his chest heaving as it had during the conversation on the telephone.

"Girls..." Mr Evans' voice cracked and he coughed to clear his throat. He began again, decidedly not looking at them. "Girls, I'm going down to London to help Roger with the arrangements; the two of you will stay here with your mother. You'll follow by train either tomorrow or the day after." The man trembled and went rigid, hands twitching at his sides. "Severus, get ready to leave; I'll drop you home. I'm sure your mother would rather have you close by." He escaped the living room on hurried feet, almost tripping as he dashed up the stairs.

Mrs Evans hovered in the doorway, wringing her hands; she looked as though she disagreed with her husband's decisions, but seemed unprepared to voice it. After a moment she shook her head, the expression slipping from her face without ceremony. Severus watched her nervously as he lingered with the girls, his arms tightening around them as their shoulders shook. He wanted nothing more than to offer them words of comfort, but he was aware that nothing he could say would alleviate the pain they felt. Death was unavoidable; it stalked the fringes of life, picking people off one by one.

Amelia Hemmingway was the one this time; she was not the first, nor would she be the last the Evans would lose in their lifetimes. Shaking his head, Severus rested his forehead against Lily's crimson hair as she sniffled thickly, her hands fisting his clothes tightly, threatening to rip the fabric. "I d-don't want you to go," she stammered, her words hardly more than a tremulous whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut at the words; she sounded so lost and vulnerable. It was wrong, so horribly wrong; Lily was never meant to sound like that.

Severus said nothing in response; there was no need to. Lily knew what he wanted to say already. She buried her face in his shoulder, a choked breath muffled in his clothes. A throat cleared nearby, startling them apart. Mr Evans, dressed almost clumsily in trousers, a shirt and a winter coat, stood by the Christmas tree, two presents held in his hands. Swallowing thickly, Severus withdrew reluctantly. Lily sniffled, running the back of her hand across her face; expressive green eyes watched him retrieve his satchel from the couch.

Gaze locked on the floor beneath his feet, Severus accompanied Mr Evans out the door. There was an uncomfortable tightness in his chest; breathing seemed more difficult than it should have been. Emotion radiated from the man at his side in thick waves, the rush of it threatening to sweep him away. Climbing in to the car, neither of them said much of anything. Mr Evans drove to Spinner's End in relative silence; the only sounds heard from him were the short, sharp breaths that indicated the man was steadily approaching hysteria.

There would be no one to ground him on his journey to London, no one to witness his tears. Perhaps that was part of the reason Mr Evans had offered to come down so quickly; no one would witness him break and put himself back together, no one would see their pillar of strength crumble. The man forced himself to take a long, slow, deep breath that shook on its way out. His hands tightened around the steering wheel. Severus glanced sideways at him, dark eyes seeking assurance that Mr Evans would not be losing control of the vehicle any time soon.

When they reached the Snape household Mr Evans did not turn off the engine; it rumbled idly as Severus unbuckled his seatbelt. He was in the middle of opening the car door when Mr Evans retrieved the two presents from the backseat and pressed them into his hands. "For you and your mother," he explained quietly, voice straining for some semblance of normality. "Tell her I said merry Christmas." Words cracking under the pressure of suppression and the continuing surge of emotions within, Mr Evans avoided looking at him, opting instead to stare out the windscreen, eyes unseeing.

For a moment the boy stared at the man he had grown to view as a father figure. Then, taking them both by surprise with the suddenness of the action, Severus leaned over and embraced him; his arms slipped around the man's middle and gripped tight. Mr Evans flinched, went rigid and then melted into the hug, his own arms coming to crush Severus to his torso. A face pressed against his lank hair. A ragged breath was sucked into a set of aching lungs. Neither of them said anything; they just clung to each other for several minutes, which seemed more like an eternity.

Eventually Mr Evans pushed him back, a gentle hand carding through Severus' hair in quiet affection and gratitude. "Go on," he said, struggling to find a balance between his grief and his own inner strength. "Get in home and tell your mother what I said to."

"I..."

"Go on," reaffirmed the man, tone hardening slightly. "I'll be fine." Severus hesitated but obeyed Mr Evans in the end. He slipped out of the car, the packages held securely in his arms, and nudged the door shut with his hip; it shut with a dull thunk. Heading for the front door, Severus glanced over his shoulder. Mr Evans did not look in his direction once as the car pulled away from the footpath. Watching him leave, he knew something had changed within Mr Evans forever; the thought caused his eyes to sting.

Blinking repeatedly, mentally convincing himself it was from the non-existent wind, Severus slipped inside the house. As instructed, he found his mother and passed the gift with her name on it to her, muttering that Mr Evans had wished her a merry Christmas. Escaping to his bedroom quickly after that, he reflected on how far from a merry Christmas it had truly been...

To Be Continued.

Ouch. My heart. *cries*

I know it's slightly shorter than my usual chapters, but I felt this was a good place to end it.