December 29th – part II.

The Christmas decorations were splendid, there were lots of colourful and shining Christmas trees, and every shop had its own decorations in their windows. It reminded Harry of Hogwarts; only here the decorations weren't moving. Harry looked around nonchalantly, not to be caught staring in wonder.

"So, where are you going first?" Eda asked Harry, grinning.

Harry shrugged. He wanted to wait to see what way Snape was going to lead the babies, and then choose the very opposite direction.

"I guess I'll wander around clothing shops, and then maybe pick myself a pair of jeans," he informed Eda.

"Walk with us, if you want," Eda invited. "We're going to walk around, count roughly the number of various shops, how big they are and such. Later we're going to look into some sport shops. They are fun, as Muggles have so many kinds of sport."

"Some are pretty absurd," Pavel added with a grin.

Harry nodded, and followed Eduard and Pavel. To his relief, Sasha and Mark were pulling Snape to a luxury-chocolate sweetshop, declaring that they needed to buy chocolates for Andy and Eva. ("The most important things are best done first, Dad.")

Harry hid his grin. He needed to buy something for the little boys as a late Christmas present. A toy airplane, perhaps, or maybe a book? He didn't feel like shopping for Christmas presents for everyone – and frankly, he didn't know the older boys enough to pick something meaningful - but for Sasha and Mark, he wanted something they would really appreciate. Harry wished he could buy a gift for Hermione. The problem was, he would need to figure out something international and untraceable.

"You're pouting," Pavel remarked, laughing.

"I'm thinking," Harry defended himself, fishing fast for a topic to present. He definitely wasn't going to share he had been thinking about his girlfriend.

"What about?" Pavel asked.

Simultaneously, his twin remarked, "Don't do it often, if it makes your face look like that."

Harry sighed. In retrospective, maybe walking with this set of boys wasn't the best idea. "Never mind," he waved his hand in dismissal of the topic.

His eyes fell on a Flourist, and he remembered Petunia had always got a bunch of flowers from their visitors – with the exception of Marge of course. Marge never brought anything for anyone other than Dudley. Harry decided he would pick Chris some nice flowers later on.

"We heard you were a Dragonfly," Pavel grinned at him. "I'll- "

"Shut up!" Eduard hissed at him, and shoved his brother hard for a good measure. "Are you crazy, talking about it here?"

"I'm not crazy, you're paranoid," his twin fought back.

Definitely a mistake to join them, Harry decided. "Hey, guys, I think I'll try this jeans shop," he announced quickly, and without waiting for their reply he ducked into the jeans filled space they were just conveniently passing.

He found out fast that this shop was good just for hiding. All jeans were stylish, and undoubtedly much more expensive than what he was looking for. Never mind, he would just wait a little till Eda and Pavel went far enough.

His plan was perfect. Only, it didn't envisage a beautiful blond with a broad smile, who was approaching him now, talking in speedy Russian.

Harry was torn between running away in panic, and staring at the beauty. The jeans she was wearing – were they from this shop? – showed her full curves and long slim legs. The tight top she was wearing showed contours that made Harry swallow.

"Er- I," he croaked, and then coughed a bit to get his voice under control, "I don't speak Russian, actually." He pushed his glasses up his nose. The different shape Chris changed them into didn't help him master his nervousness any. He would like to have some of his normalcy back. And wasn't that the story of his life?

She obviously didn't mind. If anything, her smile had grown bigger. "English? How can I help you?" she asked in an endearing accent.

"Eh, I, well, I actually didn't come to buy jeans," Harry confessed. It was easier to tell the truth, if for nothing else than for his brain failing to produce any lie. "I came here to kind of… hide."

"Hide?" She appeared amused. "Are you a wanted man?"

Belatedly, Harry realised that she might have started screaming or raise alarm. God bless her. Snape would have killed him if Harry caused a scandal in less than a quarter of an hour after they had arrived.

He grinned at her. "No, I just want to walk around alone, without my uncle and cousins. They would make fun if I picked something for my girlfriend, and such."

"All cute English boys have girlfriends," the girl mock-pouted. "I hope you'll pick something pretty for her. Maybe she would like some fancy jeans?"

Harry's eyes slid back down to her legs, and his face coloured some more. "Er, if she looked as great as you in them…"

She grinned at him, "Cute and gallant, mmm." She was obviously used to compliments, and knew how to take them.

She made it hard to think. Harry desperately tried to concentrate. Asking her if those jeans were identical to those he could buy in London was out of question. Even if they were, Harry realised he had no idea how much Russian money did he have.

The girl saved him. "The problem is to pick the right size, though. People usually come and have them fitted."

"Uh, yeah. Well, anyway, I thought more about some jewellery or something." There. Harry was rather proud of himself. Jewellery was considered a good present worldwide, he would bet.

"Oh, there's one shop with gold on the opposite side of this floor, and two more on the floor above. I'm sure your girlfriend will be delighted. Oh," she repeated as she glanced somewhere behind Harry. "There's a man looking straight at you. Is that your uncle?"

Harry repressed a sigh, and glanced over his shoulder. "Yup. So much for hiding," he made a face, and she giggled. "Thanks anyway, and have a happy New Year," he said in a matter of a goodbye.

"You too, good luck," she gave him a parting bright smile.

Harry exited the shop and resignedly faced Snape, who looked less intimidating after Chris' charm works. Who would guess that the cold stare looked much less deadly when not applied over the longest nose ever?

"Do I want to know what have you been doing in there?" The wizard drawled, his eye-brow drawn up in such a Snape-like manner that Harry was left wondering if he could be recognised just by the act.

"We consulted jewellery," Harry responded innocently. He turned around and waved at the smashing shop assistant for a good measure.

After a few steps, Snape remarked snidely, "Wouldn't Miss Granger disapprove?"

"Of jewellery?" What was Snape getting at?

"Of your chatting up model-like shop assistants," Snape clarified.

"I just needed some advice, that's all," Harry defended himself, and felt immediately angry with himself. Why he was explaining anything to Snape? It wasn't any of his business. He needed to get Snape off his back before the bat ruined the trip for him. "How much money did you lend me, anyway? In Roubles?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You didn't count it?"

"No." If I counted it I wouldn't ask, he added sarcastically to himself.In retrospect, he should have stopped in a bathroom and checked the money, instead of asking Snape.

"There is over 27 and half thousand Roubles, Potter," Snape informed him in exaggerated resignation. "Unless you already managed to spend some of it."

"Are you rich, Harry?" Sasha turned his curious little face to him. Harry guessed the kid had a similarly vague idea of what buying force he actually had as Harry himself. Well, 50 galleons had to mean something even in Russia, he decided.

"I guess I am," Harry shrugged, and grinned.

"Are you going to buy something for us?" Mark asked hopefully. He was unconsciously tugging at Snape's hand he was holding.

"Yes!"; "No", Harry and Snape voiced at the same time.

"You can't walk around asking for presents, it's unbecoming," Snape reprimanded his youngest sons.

"I got a Christmas present from you, and I want to give you one too, if a belated one," Harry told the twins. Then he amended quickly for Snape's sake, "although, it's true that normally people don't ask for their presents."

"What are you going to give us?" Mark asked, not looking much repentant.

Snape heaved a sigh. Harry guessed Snape was just silently cursing Dumbledore in a particularly colourful way. He was careful not to look at the older wizard. "I thought maybe a toy or a book about airplanes or something?"

Mark and Sasha appeared interested. "Is there a book about pilots?"

"I guess we'll have to go and see," Harry shrugged. "I'm sure there's gonna be a bookshop or two somewhere in this place.

"Let's find it!" Mark let go of his father's hand, and the twins sped up with purpose.

Harry and Snape followed them more sedately. Harry pointedly didn't look at his "uncle" – God, wasn't that absurd? - but he still got the feeling the man was giving him a reproving stare. Well, he can stuff it, Harry thought uncharitably, being a pilot is a great career, and it's Snape's fault if he couldn't see it. Harry would bet that Snape cared much more about his kids being magical than he was willing to admit. It had been all nice words to pacify the children and trying to appear as their kissy-cuddly daddy.

Obviously, Snape was peeved because he returned to the previous topic. "You will find you can spare yourself a great deal of trouble with women if you don't chat up beautiful shop assistants."

Harry frowned. What was Snape playing at, pretending he was oh-so-helpful? There weren't any of his family members around, so why bother?

"Hermione is above this," he dismissed. "And besides, she's very pretty too. It's your problem that you can't see it."

Snape snorted. Harry gritted his teeth. He needed to find the bookshop, have fun book hunting with the babies and then bow out gracefully before Snape had driven him mad.

"I think you would be surprised." The annoying wizard stated grimly.

Who the hell did Snape think he was? Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. The residing woman specialist?

Against his better judgement, he informed Snape. "You know nothing about Hermione. You don't know what she finds important, or how perfect and special she is, and it doesn't have anything to do with looks." Hermione saw Harry as Harry, she knew all about him, and she accepted him, his shortcomings and faults, creepy prophecies, and all. Harry would save this whole stupid world just for her.

"That's a surprisingly mature opinion you have," Snape responded, sounding as if praising Harry pained him.

Harry frowned. Thank you, Zikmund Freud. Any other in depth analysis? Jeez, he needed to go. Snape was too oppressive. He made Harry feel claustrophobic.

He started walking faster. Hopefully Snape would get the hint and shut up. Where were the kiddies, when one needed them?

They were waiting for them by the moving stairs.

"We need to go downstairs, Daddy," Mark informed him, jumping in excitement, pointing at the escalator, as if Snape didn't know what it was good for. Harry fought the grin that was forming on his lips. The babies were lifesavers.

"Yeah, downstairs! The lady told us," His twin added with a wave of his hand at a middle-aged woman at the nearby information desk.

She beamed, and spoke in Russian.

"She said we're smart boys," Mark translated helpfully, and answered something to her. Snape limited himself to a light bow.

Harry was pretty sure that modern Russian Muggles bowed as rarely as English folk nowadays. The info lady didn't appear to turn suspicious, though, more like flattered or something. Too many sappy novels, maybe? Harry guessed.

Once they found the bookshop, Snape went to examine the English section of the huge shop, whilst Harry let himself be led by the twins to the childrens books' section. Harry looked around in astonishment. The vast number of books of various sizes, colours, and shapes surprised him. He didn't think he had ever seen a book making noises before. So, there actually existed toys in the world which even Dudley hadn't been presented with! Now that Harry thought about it, he actually could hardly remember any children books being in his cousin's possession. Then again, Dudley had never opened any book if he could help it, and Petunia and Vernon had probably got the message early.

The twins were browsing the shelves enthusiastically. Their high voices soon attracted a shop assistant. This one was young and pretty, but normally pretty, not smashingly so as the jeans seller had been. Twins started talking to her one over another in rapid Russian. Harry had to grin when he saw Mark spreading his arms, mimicking an airplane. The girl smiled at them warmly, and took out two books, handing one to each of the boys. Whilst they were thumbing through them, Harry looked around. His gaze fell on a big box lying on one of the high book stands. There was a white airplane on the box and the sign LEGO in big red print on it. Harry walked nearer, and he could soon see that indeed, the airplane in the picture seemed to be pieced together of LEGO shapes. Wicked!

"Harry!" One of the twins scampered toward him. "We don't know which book is better!" And stuck the book he was holding into Harry's face.

"Ouch!" Harry hastily took a step backward.

The second of the babies, Sasha, reached him as well. "This one is better," he announced, and handed the book to Harry.

"No, mine is better!" Mark informed his twin rather loudly.

"It's not!"

"Is, too!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Harry hold up his hands, "we'll take them both. One for each, so that's fair."

The babies beamed at him.

"Look at this," Harry pointed his finger at the LEGO box. "An airplane made of 230 lego pieces."

"Cool! Awesome!" The boys admired the construction set. "Can we have it?"

Harry made a quick decision. "I think we simply have to buy it," he grinned at them. "It's gonna be fun to put it together."

To say the babies were excited would be a huge understatement. Mark went as far as dancing a little happy dance. Harry laughed. Something inside him suddenly eased a tiniest bit. Shocked, he realised how much tense he had become; how much the emotions had been constricting him, to the verge of suffocating. Anger, grief, helplessness, stress, and more, a vicious mixture weighing on him. He needed to meditate more often and more intensively, he realised, before his emotions destroyed him, or worse, destroyed the people around him.

"We should pay for it before dad says it's too expensive," Sasha's voice brought Harry back. How could I space out like this? He wondered, thinking, once again, if he was going mental.

Harry recovered. "Good point," he praised the kid. Sneaky from the cradle, he grinned inwardly.

He noticed the shop assistant hovering nearby, waiting if they wanted something else. "Okay, how do you say thank you?" Harry asked the babies.

"Spaceebo," Mark informed him. "Why?"

"Spa cee bo," Harry smiled at the assistant. She smiled back. Good thing Snape wasn't there to see it.

The wizard caught up with them just behind the cashier's desk, and eyed them with suspicion. The boys' evil grins, and the huge shopping bag, were rather telling. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Do I want to know?" he asked rhetorically, his face the picture of resignation.

Snape was such a drama queen! Harry was a bit too slow to hide his grin, and Snape narrowed his black eyes on him.

Fortunately, before the wizard could accuse Harry of corrupting his youngest, Mark informed him, "Harry bought an airplane."

"In a book-shop," Snape deadpanned. "Only you, Potter."

Harry couldn't help it, and he snickered. "What can I say," he bowed modestly, "I live to serve."

Snape snorted. Again, Harry was spared the man's comment by Mark.

"Can we go build the airplane now?" the boy pleaded with his sire.

"Please, please," his brother begged, his puppy dog eyes honed to perfection.

"What kind of toy is that?" Snape asked, trying to peek into the bag.

"LEGO!" The babies exclaimed in unison. Harry winced slightly at the shrill of their voices.

"You'll have to wait, then," Snape announced, and the babies moaned in disappointment.

"We can't build it here. Some of the pieces are small and can get lost easily," Harry reasoned with them. "You need to wait till we get home."

"Can we go home, now?" Sasha asked hopefully.

"Not yet," Snape informed him. His face showed clearly that he blamed Harry for this situation.

Sasha pouted. Mark looked like he was preparing to throw a proper fit.

"Come on, guys, you haven't been to the playroom yet," Harry remembered the twins eyeing the brightly coloured place with the imitation of a pirate boat. They had passed it on their way to the bookshop. "It would be a shame to miss it."

The boys paused.

"There were slides, ladders, pirate flags, and a cannon, too," Harry pressed. "Big fun."

"Biggest ever," Mark, to Harry's immense relief, agreed, and started walking briskly in the direction to the playroom.

His twin shot after him, and Harry hurriedly followed. It wouldn't do to be left behind with Snape again, Harry decided. Unfortunately, the older wizard's long legs had no difficulty to keep up. Harry could feel his presence looming just behind, he grimaced. Talk about uncomfortable.

Mark sat on a bench at the entrance of the playroom, and started taking off his shoes. He happily pointed at the small place right beside, obviously meant for the parents. "Look, Dad, here's a Café. You can have a coffee while we play."

"You can have as much coffee as you want, Dad," Sasha allowed magnanimously, his little hand waving in a cavalier gesture.

Harry tried to stifle a laugh, but wasn't really successful.

Snape shot him a glare.

Harry lost it. He laughed.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"What's funny?" Mark paused with one shoe in his hand.

"You are fun to be around," Harry said, once he was able to talk again. He opted for truth, dodging the question at the same time. Good one, he congratulated himself. Mark appeared pleased and put the shoe under the bench.

Harry went to the lady at what appeared to be a small reception for the playroom. "Hello, two children, please" he told her slowly and tried for clear pronunciation. To his relief she spoke English, and he paid for the babies without any hitch.

"Should I go inside with you?" Harry said hopefully. It definitely sounded better than waiting with Snape, and watching the boys through the glass wall.

"You're staying, Potter. You and I are having a chat," Snape informed him, pointing one long finger towards a table with two chairs in the corner. Then, he went to the counter, presumably to order himself some coffee.

Well, bother! Harry thought, sitting down morosely. What the hell could Snape want to talk about now? Nothing good, Harry would bet.

To Harry's surprise, Snape brought him a glass of Coca-Cola. The man waved off Harry's thanks, and placed his cup of coffee on the table, and moved the second chair so that he also would have a clear view of the playroom. They were sitting more side by side than facing each other that way, which suited Harry just fine.

Harry sipped his drink nervously.

"You didn't have to pay for the playroom," Snape surprised him, once again, by the choice of topic.

Harry nearly shrugged but he realised just in time that Snape considered the gesture childish. "It wasn't expensive." He dismissed.

"And an airplane," Snape continued.

Harry sighed. He hated to explain himself to Snape of all people. "Do we have to talk about it?"

"Humour me," the older wizard persisted.

Well, no surprise here, Harry hadn't really hoped that Snape would be dissuaded. Still, it was worth trying. Now, what to say to get Snape off his back and yet not reveal too much?

"I wanted the airplane, okay?" Harry informed Snape, tersely. "I've never had a LEGO plane before, and I thought we could have fun together building it. Of course I'll let them keep it, but it's not just a present for them." Smooth, wasn't it?

"What else did you buy? I can see there's more than one box in the bag," Snape continued in his – rather pointless, in Harry's opinion – investigation.

"Two children's books," Harry bent down, and took out the books in question. He looked at them with interest. Nice, and colourful. One had a boy standing in front of an old-looking airplane on the cover, it looked like a story book. The second book looked more like a picture encyclopaedia. He put the first on the table, and opened the encyclopaedia-one. It seemed that there was a huge picture across the whole page that had some kind of flaps, that you could open and see something underneath. Harry was inching to open one of the flaps, but resisted. It was Sasha's or Mark's to uncover first. The book was in Russian, anyway.

"You haven't even looked at the books before buying them," Snape frowned at him in disgust. Of course, Snape would accuse him of being careless.

"The assistant picked the books just for them. She wouldn't choose something unsuitable." Harry pushed up his transfigured glasses, trying to stay calm. "I'm not corrupting them, okay? Half of the Muggle boys want to become a pilot and hardly ever anyone does! It's not like it would supress their magic or anything."

"That's not my point!"

"And what is your point?" Harry's exasperation matched that of the other wizard.

"I dare say you still haven't talked to Minerva about finances," Snape changed the topic, and Harry felt like screaming.

"So I haven't, big deal," Harry snapped. Immediately, he realised he crossed the line. He amended, "I wanted to, sir. Last night. But she…" He waved his arms, and trailed off. To his mortification, his hands trembled and his eyes started burning. Damn it. He wouldn't lose it before Snape. He wouldn't. He stared hard at the book in his lap, trying hard to reign in his emotions. What the hell was wrong with him? He was having mood swings worthy of a pregnant woman!

"Never mind," surprisingly, Snape didn't call him on it, "My point is, that you are spending money left and right without knowing if you can afford it."

"You gave me the money! I mean, you lent me the money," Harry waved his hands, aggravated. The book in his lap nearly fell on the floor, so Harry put it on the table on the first one. Snape was really pushing it.

"How could I have known you would spend them on nonsense," Snape sneered, "you need decent clothes, but no, you go around buying toys."

"That's none of your business," Harry hissed back. It irked him that Snape had a point. He needed some jeans, and maybe some new socks and underwear. What it was to Snape, though? Even if Harry wanted to wear a pink tutu, Snape could go hang with his opinion.

"Why do you have to be so obstinate?" Snape was obviously on the end of his infamous temper.

"You said so repeatedly, sir. I'm just like my father. It. Is. Hereditary!" Harry bit, and stood up with the intention to leave.

"Sit down! We haven't finished!" Snape ordered.

"Yes, we have," Harry looked the impossible man in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. "You offered me a loan, I accepted it, and I will pay it back. Even without consulting with McGonagall or a solicitor, I assure you I can and I will pay back every sickle as soon as possible."

"I don't doubt your ability or intention to reimburse me," Snape, for some reason, seemed to calm down somewhat. Was he really that worried Harry wouldn't return the galleons? Why did he lend them in the first place? This all was such a complete nonsense!

And Snape just added to it when he continued, "That's not the point. The problem is, that you might not have enough resources in future. For example, to finish schooling – after Hogwarts."

"What schooling?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. "If I live that long, Dumbledore will have me hidden somewhere, fighting V- him."

"Well, then, enough money to finance a life in hiding," Snape adapted without a hitch.

"I'm pretty sure I have enough for that," Harry dismissed. What did one need in hiding? He still had quite a pile in his vault, and Fred and George hinted a few times he could cash a part of their WWW profit. Also, Sirius left him a house, he certainly left him some money as well. And besides, Harry's chances for a long life weren't exactly high.

Snape was getting frustrated again, "You may need money to start a family, or even to make sure they were comfortable in case of your demise."

Scratch frustrated, the man was completely delusional.

Are you daft? Harry had to bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying that.

"I'm not having children into this war," he said with finality. This stupidity of an argument went on long enough. "I'm not leaving a toddler behind to live alone in this bloody world."

Snape had to know Harry was referring to his parents, but decided to ignore it. "Fine, you may need to finance a resistance. Offer a bribe. Support your friends in hiding, I could continue, P- Harry. Money is not everything but it can go a long way to help. You are nearly adult, for Merlin's sake, start thinking like one."

Harry frowned, but didn't answer.

Snape allowed, "Perhaps it's not wrong to buy a toy, especially if it helps you cope in any way," he grimaced here. It was obvious how much the words pained him. "Just don't make a habit of throwing money around. At least not until you found out how much you have."

To his mortification Harry could feel Snape was starting to get to him. But he couldn't have that! Snape had a Slytherin game in process, the game which sole purpose was to unbalance and discredit Harry. Nothing like a honest and helping Snape existed! And Harry had nearly forgotten that for a minute.

"Well, I still have a piece of undeveloped land in inner London, so I guess I'm far from being broke." Harry shot flippantly, "and it is still not any of your business."

Snape rubbed hands over his eyes, and mumbled something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like, "Angsty teenagers."

To Harry it seemed Snape had as good as admitted he had lost this argument. Only, Harry didn't really feel like a winner. Were they both losers? He shook his head. The wave of deep bone tiredness washed over him again. He longed for a bed and a good nap.

"Go away," Snape waved his hand at him dismissively. "Be sure you are at the meeting point in- " he checked his watch – "in 45 minutes, and tell Eduard and Pavel to come here.

If Harry wasn't so tired, he would bristle at being ordered around like a House-Elf. As it was, he was simply glad to be rid of the foul wizard. Nothing good could come from their talk. Never anything had. What happened to 'we'll ignore each other', anyway?

Harry didn't manage even four steps, before Snape called after him.

"And don't worry about Minerva. She's nowhere near dying."

Harry turned around and looked at him solemnly. "Aren't we all? Don't we all live on borrowed time?"

Snape opened his mouth, then closed them again, reconsidering his words. "Perhaps," he then admitted.

Harry turned without a word and left. Perhaps, yeah.