December 23rd

"Hi, Harry, you look tired," Chris greeted him in the living room on his way to the kitchen.

Harry was surprised to see her up. It wasn't even 6 a.m. Even the 'babies' were still asleep. "Good morning. I woke up early," he mumbled. It was just a part of the truth. A nightmare had woken him about two hours ago and he never got back to sleep. Instead, he started writing a letter to Hermione, which was probably the stupidest and sappiest thing to do, considering that he wasn't allowed to mention anything interesting in it, or even send it.

Chris wasn't a mother of six for nothing, though. "And when did you go to sleep?"

"Late," Harry admitted. "I wanted to try some basic mental exercises from the book you lent me." Again, it was just a half-truth. Harry did try the exercises. He didn't mention, however, what had prompted him to it. He didn't explain that he had come back to his room, and his good mood had been promptly ruined when he had seen the Occlumency books lying innocently on his bed where he had left them before dinner. He didn't describe to Chris the flare of hatefulness for her husband that he had felt. He didn't explain that the point of the exercises had been to teach himself to bury his hatred, and stay calm.

Chris nodded at him agreeably, "Your diligence is commendable. Don't forget to sleep, though."

"I won't, I promise," Harry felt his cheeks redden. A part of him felt bad for deceiving Chris by omission, but honestly, what could he say?

"Did you have a bad dream?" came the next question, surprising Harry.

"I- er- yes."

She nodded. "Boys of your age hardly ever wake up early per se," she explained. Then she kept looking at him expectantly.

Harry supposed she was waiting for him to share his nightmare. He fervently hoped she wouldn't ask about it, that she would let it slide. He didn't want to remember it, and even the less to voice it aloud. He had already told Hermione some of his most common nightmares - at her insisting that sharing would make them easier to deal with. He hadn't found relief, though, and he had felt bad when Hermione started crying over the dreams.

And Chris did let it go. "If you decide you want to talk about it, I am here. If it becomes a problem, come for a Dreamless Sleep," she told him simply.

Harry nodded. He felt immensely grateful. By the way Chris' expression changed, he understood that his face conveyed it clearly.

"Go on, have some breakfast," she dismissed him, and went to the unobtrusive door that Harry knew led downstairs.

Harry obediently continued his way to the kitchen. Another shock awaited for him. Snape was sitting at the table, buttering a toast. He must have heard every word of Harry's exchange with Chris. And the more, Snape was alone with Harry, which he might use as an opportunity for an attack. Damn.

"Good morning," Harry mumbled, thinking about fleeing back to the guest room. Then he braced himself. This was bound to happen sooner or later. He sat down at his usual spot and poured himself a cup of black tea from a glass teapot. He suddenly realised Snape's presence enraged him nowhere near as much as Occlumency books. It didn't make any sense, and Harry wondered if he was mental.

"Morning," Snape answered dryly.

Harry had the feeling the man was looking at him, but as he refused to look anywhere near the Potions Master, Harry couldn't be sure. He helped himself with a bowl of yogurt, adding a generous amount of honey. He had liked it yesterday, and was glad to see it was a fixed part of breakfasts.

Harry tried to follow the advice of his most successful Occlumency exercise so far – to keep his mind in a state it had been on a recent pleasantly calm occasion. Harry tried to keep his mind as peaceful as it felt when skiing by himself in the garden. It had worked quite nicely last night, but now it was no help.

He ate nervously, waiting for the axe to fall. What the hell was Snape doing up at this hour?

Snape pushed away his plate, and poured himself something out of a pot. Coffee. Harry could smell it quite distinctly. Snape added sugar and stirred it. Harry felt holes being burnt in the side of his head.

"Bad dreams, Potter?" Snape asked mockingly. Or, maybe not mockingly. Harry wasn't sure. Amusedly?

Harry shrugged. He knew Snape hated the gesture, but did it really matter? Snape hated anything Harry did.

Snape took in a harsh breath. After a pause he spoke coldly, but not as hatefully as Harry would have expected. "My wife has six children to take care of, Potter. I would appreciate if you didn't add to her worries."

I didn't ask to be here! Harry shouted at him in his head. I couldn't know she would ask about my sleep!

"Yes, sir," he said aloud, scooping quickly the rest of the yogurt into his mouth, his tea unfinished. He quickly stuffed the bowl and cup into the sink and left the kitchen. He supposed his hasty retreat was undignified, but honestly, he didn't care.

On his way through the living room Harry, once more, encountered Chris. She was levitating several neat piles of clothes.

"Harry," She smiled at him. "This is yours." The smallest pile of laundered clothes navigated to Harry. He held out his hands.

Harry thanked her and realised that Snape was right. He was bringing more work on Chris. Work which she definitely didn't need. He looked at her helplessly. "Thank you," he repeated. "Is it difficult to clean clothes? Can I learn a spell for it?"

Chris beamed at him. "It's not a problem for me to clean them for you," She assured him. "I like to see that you strive for independence, though. I will gladly teach you the needed spells, or you can ask Andrei or Kolya. I already taught them everything to run a household."

"I will ask them," Harry nodded. "Is there any book on basic household charms and spells?"

"Turning bookish, Potter?" the hated voice drawled from behind him.

Harry froze. He bit down a sharp retort. He shrugged, knowing that both the gesture and the fact that Harry hadn't bothered to turn around and look at him would piss Snape off. Harry was pretty sure that Snape wouldn't hex him with Chris present, so he might as well enjoy being insolent.

"Of course there are books like that. I will lend you one later," Chris said with a reproving glance pointed behind Harry's back. Harry smirked inwardly.

"Which reminds me," she added after a second, "that I should go and find you a pair of swimming trunks."

"I would rather stay here, if you don't mind," Harry said in a spur of the moment. Water parks were probably big fun, and Harry had never visited one yet. However, a scowling Snape throwing nasty remarks would suck any pleasure from the best aqua park in the world. Besides that, Harry would have to admit that he didn't have any Muggle money, and they would have to pay for him. Harry didn't want to be indebted to Snape of all people.

"Are you sure?" Chris appeared most surprised. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm okay, really." Harry assured her hastily, hyper-aware of the wizard standing behind him. "I just want to think, and maybe start my homework."

Snape snorted.

Chris looked at Harry doubtfully. She didn't seem to know what to do. "If you are sure. But there will be other days when we won't be able take you with us – when we go visit friends. Today, you could have fun."

"No, really. I'll stay." Harry persuaded. "I can cook lunch, if you want."

"We'll eat outside," Snape said quickly. Harry felt like rolling his eyes. As if I would poison seven nice people just to get to one old wanker.

"We'll be leaving about half past nine. Maybe you could go and rest, and then you can decide." Chris offered. Harry was sure she knew he didn't want to go because of Snape. The man himself had to know it too. No one wanted to bring that fact out in the open, though.

"Okay," he agreed, though he already knew he wouldn't change his mind.

"I better find my house still standing, Potter," Snape threatened.

He was taking his chance in case he hadn't the opportunity later, Harry thought. It was rather funny, how similar Snape was to Aunt Petunia. Harry remembered her saying in her unpleasant pinched voice on countless occasions, "We can never leave the boy alone, we would find the house in ruins." Or, "the ungrateful boy would tear the house down if he got a chance." If Snape thought this would set Harry off, he was sadly mistaken.

"Yes, sir," he answered blandly, and started toward the stairs.

Once upstairs he slowed. He hoped Chris would tell Snape off. It would make Harry's day. Or at least it would compensate a little for his awful morning, he amended.

"You keep aggravating him, Severus," Chris rebuked gently.

"He's just pretending to be a victim for your sake," Snape complained. "At school, he keeps mouthing back."

"You started it, though, haven't you," she asked knowingly. "I've never seen a teenage boy leave breakfast so fast."

"He's insolent," Snape insisted. "He has to be kept in line or he will walk over our heads in no time."

"No boy ever walked over my head, and Harry won't either," Chris informed her husband carelessly. Harry believed her every word, though. "From what I've seen he wants to fit in, and not to impose on us."

"He's playing you," Snape explained. Harry suddenly realised that Snape believed in what he said. He was firmly convinced that Harry was a villain.

"Well, he's playing me well, then," Chris answered in a bit sharper tone, "because at the moment I see a polite boy who sacrifices an aqua park just not to aggravate his uncharitable host."

Bingo! Harry grinned. This was music that sounded wonderful to his ears. He knew, of course, that Chris would never be able to persuade her husband to change his opinion on Harry. He was happy, though, that she didn't adopt Snape's opinion on him automatically.

"Potter- "

"Didn't want to be here in the first place," Chris cut him off. "Dumbledore dumped him here without even assuring him that his family was alright."

Harry didn't hear anything, so either Snape didn't respond at all, or too softly to make out. He supposed that Snape might get suspicious that he hadn't heard Harry shut the door. Harry quickly reached the guest room and made sure that he closed the door inaudibly.

xxx

Harry kept his decision and stayed in the house. It was silent, and peaceful, and Harry didn't regret staying behind. He decided to start his transfiguration essay. If McGonagall joined them in a few days, Harry might ask her about something he didn't understand. And besides, Snape might inquire if Harry kept his word and started with schoolwork.

Harry found that he understood the topic quite well, better than the transfiguration of magical gemstones that they had been studying during autumn. By three p.m., when he heard the family returning, he had his essay finished. And more, he managed to reread all his transfiguration notes and essays, and used the opportunity to practise the incantations.

Harry stretched with a deep feeling of satisfaction. He wondered if he should go and greet the Snapes. He didn't really want to because there would be Snape; and also he might start to regret not going to the water park when he saw their happy faces. If he stayed in, however, they might think he was sulking.

In the end, he went to the living room.

They did look very happy and relaxed – with the exception of Snape, who couldn't look happy any more than a dementor could, of course – but Harry to his relief found that his good feeling of accomplishment didn't leave him.

"Hi, Harry," Mark – well, Harry was nearly sure it was Mark and not Sasha, said, "It was big fun, there were toboggans and slides and we tried everything!"

"Nearly everything," Eduard corrected him. "Some of the slides were too big for you."

The babies stuck out their tongues.

"Let's have a snack," Andy, the peacemaker, proposed.

Everyone moved to the kitchen obediently, sans Chris who went to dispose of swimming suits and wet towels. Harry's stomach rumbled. He had only grabbed yogurt and an apple from the fridge for lunch. He didn't want to waste time, and also he was too lazy to cook just for himself.

"We bought lots of fruit in a Muggle supermarket," Mark informed him with – according to Harry – inappropriate joy. What child enthused over fruit?

"Don't you like fondue?" Mark asked him. He had apparently awaited a more cheerful reaction from Harry.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, to mask the way he stared at the kid blankly. He heard about fondue, of course, it was a meal with cheese and bagels or something like that. Fruit dipped in cheese didn't sound all that exciting.

"You dip fruit into warm chocolate," Sasha explained with wide grin. Harry grinned back.

"First time?" Nicolay asked him with a sarcastic edge that differed him very much from his twin. Harry idly wondered which one of the boys Snape considered the most similar to him.

Harry shrugged. If he was in for teasing, so be it. He had seen a lot of teasing in the Burrow and a lot of graceful and less graceful responses to it.

With deliberate calmness, he said, "I see that I am in for a strong experience." He nodded towards the ten or so kinds of fruit Snape was unpacking and washing in the sink, and then to the cooker where chocolate was dissolving in three cauldron-like bowls.

"We have dark, milk, and white chocolate," Mark tugged on Harry's sleeve and practically dragged him to have a look.

Soon, they were feasting on the dessert. Its drawback, Harry reflected, was the chattiness that simply belonged to the savouring of the treat. Fortunately, the talk kept revolving around the water park. The boys remembered every slide and every scream someone uttered on them, and the 'babies' bragged about the advancement in swimming that they had made.

"What about your day?" Andy asked politely the question Harry anticipated and feared. He didn't want to talk about himself in front of Snape.

"It was okay," he said noncommittally. "I worked on my Transfiguration homework."

"Are you good at Transfiguration?" It was Pavel asking. Harry wondered why the boy should care. He decided he hated small talk.

"Not as good as I would like to be," he answered shortly. He tried to change the topic of conversation, "So, after an aqua park and a supermarket, you are going to try a Muggle cinema?"

"A Cinema and a Shopping center," Pavel corrected him and explained as if he didn't know Harry was Muggle-raised, "A Supermarket is just a big shop, but a Shopping Center is supposed to be like a village-ful of shops."

Harry didn't mind. Nobody was talking about him and that was what he aimed for.

Unfortunately, Snape was his usual bastard self, and asked oh, so innocently, "How far did you get in your homework, Potter?"

"I finished it, sir," Harry informed him in equally innocent tone. It wouldn't do to gloat visibly, right? He supposed Snape would say something unsavoury about haste and lame results, but he didn't care.

Chris stepped in quickly, "That's commendable, Harry. I'm sure Minerva will be pleased."

Harry dared to hope it was the end of talk about his day.

"What's the theme of your potions homework?" Eduard asked with genuine interest.

Curse all dotty potions fanatics! Harry groaned inwardly.

"We got to choose out of six healing potions, and we are supposed to tweak our chosen one," Eda, who must have been an even bigger potions geek than Harry had known, informed him happily. "I'm trying to find out an alternative to quinine in the Peletiere Mind-Stimulating Draugh."

"Quinine is the main component," Nicolay objected. "If you change it, it would be classified not as a variation to a potion, but a new one."

"Exactly," Eduard told him smugly. "Imagine, a new potion at the age of fourteen."

"Kolya invented a potion in summer. He even got an article in a potions magazine," Andy murmured to Harry.

"Or you will fail and become a first member of the family who got T for a Potions assignment." Kolya smirked at Eduard. Harry thought he was peeved that his younger brother would like to trump him.

Eda threw a grape at him.

"No throwing food!" Chris used a tone of voice Harry hadn't yet heard from her. He understood now why a boy never 'walked over her head'. "And no fighting at meals!"

"Sorry, mum," both of them mumbled.

"What's the theme of your potion homework, again?" Eduard got back to the – Harry had hoped forgotten for good – question. Harry felt like groaning.

"I dropped Potions," Harry said nonchalantly. Later he wondered why on Earth he could have hoped for a second that Snape would let him get away with it.

Snape cleared his throat in poignant way. "Potions dropped you, if anything, Potter."

Bastard.

"I didn't get a good enough mark to continue the subject," Harry said, trying to keep his voice and expression carefully neutral.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

And after a minute Chris said kindly, "I'm going for a very short ski-trip with Sasha and Mark. Do you want to join us, Harry?"

Harry was pretty sure she wouldn't invite him if Snape was going, and so he smiled and accepted the invitation. Anything to avoid the foul man, and who cared if he was skiing as slowly as kids? He was only learning it for the second day.

Skiing was fun, and dinner was quite peaceful. Snape and Kolya were engaged into a Potions discussion, something about Kolya's experimenting with a potion. The babies were waiting with commendable patience for at least a quarter an hour, but then they demanded their dad's attention. Snape had no time to strike at Harry, to his relief.

After dinner, Harry confined himself to his room. He planned on some lighter reading and an early night. He decided to read on in a Defence book that Hermione had checked for him out of the Hogwarts library, Potent, Dangerous, and Still Light Combat Spells.

A knock on his door sounded.

"Yes?" he invited, and got up from the bed on which he was sprawled on his belly, thanking fortune that he hadn't changed to his oversized pajama bottoms and the walrus-sized t-shirt yet. He guessed it would be Chris or Andy.

He guessed right.

"Hi," Andy said a bit hesitantly. He glanced around the room. Harry kept nearly everything in his trunk, though. He didn't feel at home under Snape's roof, so he didn't see point in making the room look homey. "Am I intruding?"

"No," Harry assured him. He didn't want Andrei to feel unwelcome. "I'm just reading." He waved his hand towards the bed. "There's always too much going on during the school year, so there's not much time for reading."

"Mum said to give you this book," Andrei handed him a book on household charms.

"Thanks," Harry stepped to the door to take it.

"You surely take it seriously," Andy said lightly. "Planning on starting your own house soon?"

"August 1st," Harry answered in an equal tone of voice, leaving it up to Andy to believe him or not. "And also, I'll need some cover story as to how I learned those charms when presumably I'm spending the holidays in a Muggle house."

The other boy nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "can I come in?"

"Sure," Harry waved him in, glad that he would have some distraction. Some light conversation with the easy-going teenager, just to forget for a moment how unwanted and hated by Snape he was.

"What are you reading?" Andy's eyes fell on the book on Harry's bed. When told, he whistled. "Yeah, you said you are into defense. Maybe we could have some practice tomorrow?"

"On Christmas Day?" Harry grinned. "Wouldn't Chris object?"

Andy laughed, "Probably. Okay, let's leave it for the days after."

"How good at Defense you are?" Harry asked hesitantly. He hoped Andy was capable enough to be a good opponent, but not as good as to make Harry a laughing stock for the whole Snape family. He didn't doubt they would have an audience. Harry suddenly realised he might have sounded fearful, and added with a grin, "It wouldn't do if I found myself knocked out and then found you were the substitute DADA teacher when your mum falls ill."

"I'm not that good!" Andy laughed heartily, "I fight well enough, though. I have the strongest talent for Defense of us four. But I'll probably become a Curse Breaker, not a teacher. Or maybe I'll work with wards. Wards are awfully interesting, too."

Harry thought about it. He knew that Bill Weasley worked as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts. "So, you would let yourself be hired by Gringotts or some such and create wards for them?"

"Well, that, or I would be a freelancer. Letting myself to be hired by anyone who needed to create or strenghten wards. I could be a freelance curse breaker at the same time. More fun."

Harry wondered, "How do they know they can trust you?" He couldn't imagine letting a stranger, who might have any political connections, ward his property. Or even if he was a honest guy, someone could blackmail or threaten him. Definitely not. Harry regarded warding as something crucial, something that needed to be done by himself or by his closest friends.

"I would be bound by a work-oath, of course," Andy seemed to be surprised by his question. "It's a standard procedure. And besides, a lot of complicated wards that people need help with rely on blood or a secret keeper, whose name the warder doesn't know, so..." he trailed off.

Harry nodded his understanding. He enjoyed their chat, but he had a feeling that Andy came to his room for a reason, not just to talk. Harry didn't know how to get Andy to talk about the purpose. He wasn't sure he wanted to get Andy to talk about it.

The dark haired boy had that odd insightfulness, though. As if he could hear Harry's thoughts, he asked softly, "Did you and Dad have an argument this morning?"

Harry shrugged.

"I've heard Mum telling him he should go and ask you about going to the water park," Andy explained with shrug of his own. "The way she said 'you' was rather a give-away."

Harry looked away. What to say to that? Andrei, the peace-maker. What he wanted to hear?

Of course.

"Sorry, I don't want to make a stir in your family," he apologised flatly. "I would leave here if I could."

There. He was the bigger man. He could have ranted about Snape provoking him, and shared some Hogwarts stories. Instead, he apologised without having to – which was a tactic, Hermione had told him – used by Japanese people. Presumably, it threw the opponent off balance.

It worked. Andy looked somewhere between ashamed and scandalised. "You misunderstand me. I don't want you to feel unwelcome."

"I know," Harry assured him. "Everything would be much worse without you. Or Chris," he said honestly. Suddenly, he realised that if Snape hadn't had a family, Harry would be stuck alone with the foul man! He shuddered.

"So what now?" Andy asked. "You can't spend the holiday cooped here all the time except for meals."

Harry didn't mean to stay locked in. He should tell so to the other boy, but for some whim of his mind he said only, "Why not?"

"It would be like a prison," Andy once again sounded scandalised.

Harry had to fight the urge to laugh. For having Snape as a father, and for attending a school that had a dark reputation, Andrei was still so laughably innocent. Harry remembered his life with the Dursleys where three square meals a day - even if with a bit strained conversation - sounded like paradise.

"I'll be going outside," he assured Andy. He felt a bit guilty for playing with the boy. "I'll just keep out of Snape's reach as much as possible." And hope that it'll be enough, he added inwardly.

Two dark eyes studied him thoughtfully. With a hint of disappointment Andy promised, "We will engage him in as many whole day trips as possible, and sometimes I'll stay behind with you."

Harry felt surge of gratitude towards the other boy. "I'll be glad to have company. I'm good on my own too, though, and I know you want to spend time with your- Snape." Harry finished lamely. The word 'Father' refused to pass his lips.

Andy grinned at him. "I think I'll manage both." Then he changed the topic. "Where would you go for the holiday, if it was up to you? Not as if I wanted you to leave," he added hastily.

Harry shrugged. "To my girlfriend's parents, I guess. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't mind." The Grangers had written him a few warm letters, from which Harry deduced that they preferred him to Ron. Especially after he shared with them that he pondered leaving the wizarding world when he was no longer needed for the war efforts, and living in the Muggle world instead.

"Or maybe my friend's house," he remembered Neville. "We would practise defence together, and I would learn bunches about Herbology. His family's magical, so we would get away with using magic," he explained to Andrei.

"And your girlfriend is not?" Andy asked curiously.

"Magic? She's a witch, but her parents are Muggles," Harry shared. He didn't thing Andy would mind.

"My girlfriend, Eva, she's from a pureblood family. I wish she was a Muggleborn instead," Andy shared in exchange.

"Why?" Harry asked the question that was practically obligatory.

Andy frowned. "They are so horribly tied in their traditions. They have rules for everything. They talk into everything, and they'll keep doing so even after she's an adult."

"I don't know much about pureblood traditions," Harry admitted.

"Be glad," Andy sighed. "They have rules what I can give her as a present, and what blood is good enough to bring into family, how much I have to earn weekly before we marry, how our children will be named." He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "I think we'll have to elope before it suffocates us."

"Wards will come handy, then," Harry joked, and earned good laugh from the other boy.

Harry yawned. "Sorry," he apologised, embarrassed. "I woke up awfully early."

Andy got up, and grinned, "Good night, then. Don't forget that tomorrow is the traditional Christmas chocolate making. I hope you are not afraid that Dad will drown you in a cauldron."

Harry yawned again. "Snape only attacks when we're alone," he said absentmindedly. Then his brain caught up with his mouth. "Er- sorry."

Andy looked at him sadly. "That's okay. Tomorrow evening is the unwrapping of the presents, so we don't have to wait till the morning." With that, the teenager left.

It seemed that the Snapes had a lot of weird traditions, Harry thought. On the other hand, it meant that they could sleep in on December 25th.

He was lying in his bed soon, wishing for Hermione, for her warm hands and the bush of her hair smelling faintly of her flowery conditioner.