..
Christmas eve turned out to be a moderately warm day. Harry just Apparated to the run-down street to pick up Snape, who was spending the holidays moving stored ingredients from his house to Hogwarts. After that, Snape claimed he was going to burn the house down to the ground. But Harry did not find a quiet beggared house on a dark street, he found it lit up to burst with flashes and bangs, a duel mid-progress.
Racing straight to the danger, he only made it onto the dilapidated porch when someone ran out, colliding bodily right into him.
Lucius Malfoy pivoted, raising his arm at this new threat. They both stared, surprised, wands drawn offensively.
"Evening, Potter," Lucius said in a calm voice that did not match his appearance, putting Draco's wand away. He skirted past him, straightening his hair and robes, trying to look dignified and almost succeeding. "Thank you, for uh, my… wife's trial. My son's. Congratulations on your C.H.A.R.M.S." and with that, he left down the path rather quickly and Disapparated. Wand still out, Harry turned and rushed into the house.
Inside, Snape's house was utterly destroyed. Furniture broken, holes in the walls, back windows busted, jars smashed with their liquid contents on the floor and splats on the wall where some of them were thrown, and Snape, looking supremely unconcerned, packed what little remained of his un-smashed bottles.
"What HAPPENED!?" Harry yelled, eyes raking over the damaged walls with the tell-tale signs of ferociously dealt spell damage, cutting deep into exposed the brick.
"What? THIS? Nothing. Just a little duel between friends." He limped over to the next box of bottles.
"Did he forget to compliment you first?" Harry finally shut the door, surveying the torn apart kitchen and sitting room. "Out with it!"
"I'm alive, aren't I!?" Snape snapped, shoving more bottles into a box, rearranging them, trying to make them fit.
"OH NO. No you don't—TELL me."
A cracked bottle broke in his hands. Snape let out a frustrated sigh that turned into a scoff. "HE FEELS… that if I didn't betray the Dark Lord, he would not have gone to Azkaban again."
"Wasn't he imprisoned in his own house?" Harry looked up at the ceiling, squinting as it showered him with dust.
"Yes, but his family got caught on the wrong end of the war, didn't they?"
"That's HIS fault." Harry looked down, noticing a large amount of blood. "I'm going to kill him."
"No, you won't!" Snape stacked several boxes near the fire and kicked them into the Floo with his good leg. "Fighting is preferable to silence. Better to have it out, save the friendship."
Friendship. He was 'friends' with Lucius, and switched sides without telling him. That had to be a blow, Death Eater or no. Unsure of what to do, Harry lifted his wand to repair the damage to the walls.
"Don't—I like it better this way."
Harry put his wand down and circled the room, wondering if the house would even hold. Would he bother repairing No. 4 Privet Drive if it was so gloriously destroyed?
"So… are you two okay?"
Snape scoffed a second time, piling up two more boxes of rattling contents. "No idea. Accused me of fancying Draco before I hexed him… think he believed me after he started bleeding out on the floor. Called me a Traitor Pervert. Pity it has a nice ring to it." He pointed to a shelf. "Those books over there—repair those. Start with the oldest."
"He was perfectly nice to me outside," Harry mentioned, looking at the books with deep gashes through them.
"He better be," Snape grumbled. "Use the medical spells on the leather ones, it will be cleaner."
Harry swept over the gashes in the books, thinking. Was he in for a row like this tomorrow at the Burrow? He completely skived off telling Ron, letting Hermione do it at the start of the holiday. And now they were both invited for Christmas. Hermione swore it was going to be okay, he didn't believe her, but Mrs. Weasley was kind enough and encouraging in her letters.
"That's enough." Most of the repaired books flew into another tattered box. Harry jumped as the bookshelf behind him erupted into an angry screaming fire that died quickly, leaving only a black shell. "I'll do the rest later, we're getting out of here." With another kick, the box of books disappeared into the Floo. Trying not to step on anything too gross, Harry crossed the living room and allowed himself to be grabbed and shoved into the fire. "Grimmauld Place!" Snape yelled, and they were gone.
They struggled out of the fire into the kitchen, both looking dirty. Snape removed several personal objects from an un-shrunken bag, dumping them unceremoniously on the table, looking completely done with everything.
"The bottles for Christmas… did they survive?" Harry didn't want to bring it up… but he had to ask—prepare himself for the worst.
"They're fine," Snape rattled something else in the bag.
"Oh good... I mean, I don't think we need them but… well, I'm glad they survived the carnage."
"I protected your gifts with my life." Snape gave a knowing smile and headed upstairs to shower. Harry decided to hang back in case he needed space after what happened.
Snape came downstairs rattling the contents of another bottle Harry completely forgot about.
"And tell our Minister I want a budget—a large one. This is the third potion this month, Hogwarts should not be paying for it. Should have let Lucius blast this one."
"NO!" Harry gasped, taking it from him for safe keeping. "He's counting on this one, it's important."
"Oh? Are they not all important? If he asks for one more this month, I may just forget."
"It's not his fault you're the best besides Slughorn." Snape gave him the look. "Besides, I feel like I get bonus points at work for bringing these in."
"You don't need bonus points after the year you've had."
Harry smiled. He rarely got compliments on his work performance, but the Auror Office did have a productive fall. Acknowledgement felt good at home.
Christmas Eve was supposed to be their romantic holiday evening, but it was… tense. With an entire day of being in a house full of Weasley's looming, they were alone with their personal thoughts all through dinner, eating in silence, and stayed on their separate sides of the bed after a short kiss goodnight. Tomorrow would be the real test: the family test. Could Snape keep his mouth shut and insults to himself? And would the Weasley's make any attempt to accept their relationship?
The morning turned out to be a quiet affair as well: Snape looked like he didn't sleep much, sporting rings under his eyes, nicely dressed but plainly as always. Perhaps this was one of the unexpected tests of life in which he had no potion for. Or maybe he did… but was choosing not to manipulate the situation this time. Was this his first time meeting a date's family? Based on his quiet reserved state, Harry was almost sure of it. Harry made breakfast for once, Snape eating very little and even forgot to insult his cooking.
He should be sensitive, he really should, but couldn't help but laugh at his nervousness as they were about to leave. Snape took the joke, letting him laugh, sneering at his mirth.
"I would say you don't have to be nervous, but I think we both have something to be nervous about. Do you want to make a plan in case it goes badly?"
"I thought the plan was to leave."
"Case by case basis. We could just go out into the garden for a while."
"You're going to be the death of me, Potter."
CRACK!
This is what his life accumulated to: walking through the garden towards the Burrow, hand on Severus Snape's arm (because he forgot to drop it after they Apparated,) lost in thought. Snape's eyes traveled up the many layers of the house, lips thinning at how bad it looked, keeping his comments at bay.
Mrs. Weasley was on the lookout for them, exiting the back door and waving as soon as they arrived. "Harry dear!" Harry hastily dropped Snape's arm. Thankfully she gained some weight and her hair looked fuller. Greeting them, she embraced and kissed both of Harry's cheeks and then went in for Snape's, pulling his face down while he froze up like this was the worst thing that could have possibly happened.
"Severus dear, nice to see you. How are you?"
He did not answer.
Inside the kitchen, George poked his head in. "Harry showed up!? Blimey, he showed up! OI!" he yelled to the entire household with a well-practiced diaphragm. "Harry actually showed up! SNAPE'S with him! Can't believe it—they actually came!"
Even when he was inside, Snape stood suspiciously close to the kitchen door, near the escape route, making eye contact with exactly no one.
George and Charlie entered the kitchen, offering their hands in turn.
"Severus, GOOD to see you! I'll tell you what, business has just been BOOMING." He gave a wink and shook his hand hard. "And don't worry about the family. We've been practicing our curtsies for a week."
"Severus, glad you made it," Charlie shook his hand too. "Just visited Wood at the castle. Everything looks great. I bet the teachers are finally sleeping."
"Severus dear, if you want to hang your cloak up, there are hooks right behind you," Mrs. Weasley offered.
"Oh no, that's his day-cloak, he normally doesn't take that off when we're out," Harry accidentally said for him, hearing how weird that sounded.
"Does he take anything off, or does he just lift all the layers at the urinal?"
"GEORGE!"
"I'm just asking questions mother! Sometimes I need a visual to understand."
Percy and Ginny entered the room next. "Hello Harry," she said coolly in a grand show of sounding perfectly normal. "Professor."
Percy adjusted his glasses. "Morning Harry." He then looked at Snape like he was going to say hello, but then thought better of it.
"Bill and Fleur are on holiday in France with her parents, will visit closer to New Year's. Teddy will be here later with Andromeda."
Snape visually stiffened with this news, everyone catching this uncomfortable automatic reaction.
The one person who definitely was not making a good show of it was Mr. Weasley, tapping his fingers on the kitchen table, staring down Snape at the far end, looking like all the power tools in the world for Christmas could not un-fuck Harry Potter.
Harry eyed his disapproving face nervously.
"Harry!" Rapid footsteps marked Hermione's arrival. She threw her arms over him in a hug, but let go quickly as Ron came down the stairs next. "Oh, it's good to see you, we didn't hear you arrive. Hello Professor," she practically sang. "I… I mean Severus," she corrected.
Mr. Weasley's brow furrowed even more at another mention of Professor. Yes, he was supposed to be a professor.
"Hey, mate!" Ron grabbed Harry's hand and gave him a one arm hug, glancing nervously at Snape, acting like this too was some test he was supposed to pass.
"Nice to have a week off, isn't it?" Harry mentioned, surprised that Ron looked more nervous than angry after a years' worth of lies.
"Warm today, isn't it?" Ron shuffled, putting his hands in his pockets, unsure of how to act normal, diving into small talk.
"Yeah, maybe it'll snow later in the week… OH, uh… here." Remembering, Harry unshrunk and handed to Mrs. Weasley a wrapped casserole dish, pretending it was from him.
She wasn't fooled. "Oh, did Severus make this?"
"Is that BUNDT CAKE?" George asked innocently.
"Uhh, no. I made it," Harry lied.
"Blimey Harry, I think I'd eat Snape's poison before I tried your cooking."
Harry looked around, deciding to sit down at the kitchen table at a loss of what else to do. When Snape still stood near the door blending in with the cloak rack, Harry noisily scraped a chair out, telling him not so subtly to sit down. He did.
"Are you hungry, dears?"
"What? Oh, no… I can wait."
"It's no trouble dear, I have food already prepared. What would you like?"
"No, we just ate. If dinner's early, we can wait, thanks."
George scraped up a chair next to Snape like he was his favorite uncle. "SO, what did Professor Snape get you for Christmas?"
"Well, that's none of your business, is it?" Harry said defensively.
Truth be told, he didn't get him anything yet. Two days ago, Snape delicately offered to purchase him another owl, which Harry vehemently refused. It was supposed to be a surprise, but then he had enough sense to ask him before purchasing it, guessing correctly it was still a sore subject. So… his Christmas gift was still pending.
"Come on, cough it out. What did he get you?"
"A potion. Makes annoying gits disappear."
"Didn't work though, did it?"
"No, I guess not."
"A jobby?"
"GEORGE!"
Arthur Weasley was now doing his best Uncle Vernon impression, looking like he was about to pop under the pressure sex jokes involving Snape.
Now. Yes, he would do it now. This was a good time to reveal their gifts, right here at the kitchen table. Best do it early and not wait. "Uhhh, SO... I got everybody the same thing this year. I would say these are from me, but that would be a lie, sort of, so… here." He opened the small softly lined drawstring bag, pulling out many small bottles.
"One is yours, and would you hang on to these for Bill and Fleur for me?" He handed three small ornate bottles to Mrs. Weasley. She looked at them and gasped.
"HARRY!" she almost screamed. "These aren't… these aren't!" It sounded like she was going to hyperventilate. Her reaction scared him, but it was about what he expected. He continued to pass the bottles out.
"NO WAY! YOU'RE JOKING!" George yelled at the top of his lungs, standing up.
"WHAT? What is it!" Hermione said, alarmed by everyone's reactions. Ron, taking his, ROARED in disbelief.
Hermione got hers. "OOOHHHHH, you shouldn't have, Harry!"
Percy took his, readjusted his glasses, and then took them off, looking at the bottle up close just to make sure he read correctly.
Charlie took his, looked at it, and shook his head at them. "Harry…" and he looked disappointed in them. Harry looked away, guilty.
"FELIX FELICIS! IS THIS FOR REAL?" George yelled again.
"I…"
Ginny took hers, passing one to her father. They both stared in shock but did not say thank you.
"Harry… Severus…" Mrs. Weasley moaned. "This was completely unnecessary." She seemed completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of the gift, not looking at the bottles, but looking at them.
"FELIX! I'VE GOT FELIX!" George screamed to the heavens like his life was complete. "BOY HARRY, you really know how to SUCK UP to the family!"
Hermione gaped at them like she couldn't believe they would do something so devilish.
"No…" Harry denied, although they were exactly right.
"Blimey, FELIX! But Harry, you're FORGETTING SOMEONE!"
"Who?" and for a short moment, he feared he did forget someone.
"I need two of those. Fred's behalf, you know."
Mrs. Weasley looked and relooked at her own bottle, and then her children's bottles, unwilling to believe it.
"Just… just a little gift… that's all… from the both of us."
"Harry, I told you… I'm not drinking anything you helped concoct, this better be from Snape."
"I would be remiss if I did not tell you..." Snape addressed the inanimate dining room table, speaking for the first time, "Felix Felicis is to be taken on an ordinary day only. No birthdays, weddings, births… Do not drink it in hopes of romantic pursuits or victorious duels. If you do, expect unexpected results…"
"Ahh, I don't know about that, I remember Herbert the Happy from History of Magic. Went into battle, married the barmaid and gave up the crown. Lived to one-hundred and two in poverty with twelve children—died with a smile on his face. His photograph did look happy," George said, looking at his bottle like he would love some unexpected results.
"And… coordinate amongst yourselves, select a year to take your dose. Consumption must be spread out to negate the bad luck of brewing a stockpile."
"Ohhh yeah, that does sound like bad luck."
Ginny seemed annoyed by the gift and even more by Snape's warning, which Harry thought was rich of her, because according to rumors, she spent all summer snogging Oliver Wood and his broomstick.
"Harry. Thank you for the gift. It is a very generous offer," Mr. Weasley said evenly. "And… I was hoping to have a word with you out in the garage. I have some questions about a stop light that I just acquired."
"I don't think that's necessary, thanks," Harry said polite, but firm. "Maybe Hermione could answer your questions about stop lights."
"Harry—I must insist."
"OH NO YOU DON'T! HE SAID NO, ARTHUR!" Mrs. Weasley whipped.
"MOLLY DEAR, I REALLY-"
Charlie got up from the table quickly. "Severus- Felix Felicis. I have some questions about usage. Take a walk with me outside, shall we?"
"THERE'S NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT! WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS! IT'S CHRISTMAS! LEAVE THEM ALONE!"
Ron grabbed Hermione and Harry and ushered them upstairs. They didn't even reach the landing before a full-on row erupted.
"HE IS TWICE HIS AGE, MOLLY! FIFTH YEAR!? WHAT IF THE PROPHET WAS TELLING THE TRUTH!?"
"SINCE WHEN DOES THE PROPHET TELL THE TRUTH, ARTHUR!?"
Safely upstairs floors above, they settled into Ron's old room where he lived during the weekdays. They could still hear distant muffled yelling.
"You lied to me all this year!" Ron rounded on Hermione.
"We had to, mate, there was an investigation and everything, and I didn't tell anyone!" Harry insisted, trying to direct Ron's anger at him.
"You told me he was dating Goyle's sister!" he kept on her, his face continuing to sour. "Thought it was weird I didn't see a girl that ugly at school! He looked pissed at the feast, mind, thought there was some truth in it."
"THAT'S because he only got a C.H.A.R.M.S. in History of Magic! And I just found out at the end of the year!" Hermione pleaded. "And I didn't want to get in the middle of it, it's Harry's business!"
Ron looked both hurt and furious, but kept looking down at his little glass bottle of Felix, refusing to let it go. He gave an angry sigh. "And George… Blimey, George… he knew this whole time, didn't he? Been fucking with me for months. When did he find out?"
"He guessed from Rita's article. But like Hermione probably told you, I've been keeping it from everyone. I only denied it because I didn't want Snape to be sacked."
"He should be sacked!" Ron bit at him, tightening his grip in anger.
"Oh, should he be? I'll have that back then, thanks." Harry reached out his hand but Ron's retreated, protecting his vial by instinct.
"Blimey Harry... dad's pissed."
"You should have heard Hagrid. I've got to speak to him before he kills him. He keeps cornering him in the castle but Snape just flies down through a window. Really interfering with his teaching."
"He really shouldn't do that," Hermione said, worried.
"Do you want to hear a joke?" Harry asked.
"Go on then," Ron said, looking like he needed one.
"A select group of the Wizengamot came and Snape testified under Veritaserum that he wasn't buggering me during school."
"And?" Ron screwed up his face, waiting for the joke.
"That's it! He's a Potions Master! Brewed the thing himself, I imagine. It came from Kinsley's hands, but Snape's been making potions for the Ministry for months!"
"That's not funny at all!" Ron said, outraged.
"Yes it is!" Harry smiled, begging him to see. "He's a Potions Master, and a skilled Occlumens. He hoodwinked Voldemort, why did they think they had a chance? Wouldn't surprise me if it was real Veritaserum."
Ron did not look pleased. Hermione gritted her teeth behind him, trying not to smile, knowing it was rich of the Ministry to try.
"Besides, they were asking him obvious questions like 'did you feed Harry Potter Amortentia?' Or 'did you bugger him in the fifth year?' None of that stuff he did, and Snape treated the Wizengamot like they were right scum for asking. Think he was quite believable."
"How do you know you're not the only student he's buggered?" Ron side eyed him.
"He told me! Slytherins are twisted little flirts apparently, not above going for a teacher."
Ron looked disgusted. Getting him on board was going to be a work in progress. Hermione probably prepped him all week and she still might be the only thing stopping him from shaking some sense into him.
"You could have anyone… and you chose SNAPE?"
"Snape's alright with a wand," Harry shrugged but regretted this instantly. Ron's face brightened to a shade of red that matched his hair.
"So… you're snogging him… why do you still call him Snape?"
"Don't think he minds to be honest, still calls me 'Potter' a lot. We pretend to fight all the time, or at least I think we're pretending."
"I was wondering about that. Couldn't picture you two being nice to each other. Now listen Harry, and I don't say this lightly... he's A CUNT, Harry. A right cunt."
"Not denying that one bit mate… but he IS nice to me, actually. You have to watch his actions closely and completely ignore everything that comes out of his mouth. For example: brewing Felix Felicis perfectly for an entire family. Expensive, time consuming, risky, and mentally draining. See? Very nice."
Ron opened his mouth and shut it, turning to Hermione, desperately asking permission to say some things she probably forbid him from saying.
"Right. Yeah, I think it's time, then. Hermione, can I have a moment with Ron… alone?" She looked at them, stunned. "No, it's fine, I promise."
"Oh… yes, of course," and she got up slowly, still looking at both of them in turn... leaving hesitantly, and then closed the door with a soft click.
So, here it was: The BIG talk. Harry could apologize for avoiding him for a year, he could apologize for lying to him, he could beg for understanding, or they could fight... but none of that was about to happen.
"Ron." Harry cast Muffliato at the door and leaned in, dead serious. "Hermione might drop me as a friend."
"No she won't, she's the one trying to convince us all you're not under a love potion."
"Well, you see… I promised never to tell you about something, and I'm going to do it."
Ron's mouth parted, curious, seeing the joke in his eyes. "What? …What's going on?"
"Well mate, I've been up to no good, and I've hid more than Snape. Have you heard that I'm… Head of House?"
Ron sort of chuckled. "What, Slyffin-puff? Yeah, I heard. Did you forget to make her a Prefect or something?"
"No! I forgot to induct you as a student." He pulled out an un-shrunken, glittering, and shining book that made the room go dark in comparison. Ron reached out to grab it, staring at the thick illustrious cover… glorious, God-like—an enigma.
"Hermione has been keeping its existence from you, but I think you should have it."
Ron smoothed his fingers over a brand-new copy of 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells, 4th Edition. He gaped as he opened it, the full-paged colored illustrations slapping him in the face. He. Was. At. A. Loss. For. Words.
"There's a catch. Ron. Ron! Look at me, mate." He snapped his fingers to get his attention. "There's a catch."
Ron tore his eyes away from the book. "Is THIS what you've been doing with Snape?"
"No!" Harry yelled quickly. "Sort of, okay—yes, but only some. VERY LITTLE. The NORMAL ones only. Don't look at me like that."
But Ron could not look away for too long, eyes flickering back to the book, calling to him.
"Seriously mate, there's a catch. You have to practice a spell a THOUSAND TIMES before you try it on your girlfriend, I'm serious, she's going to drop me as a friend if she knows I gave you that book. She thinks you're going to… lop off a boob or something. I swear, I'm not joking. Hermione has forbidden George to give you that book BUT! If she finds it, blame it on George anyway. Think he'll take the fall for me."
Ron flipped page after page, each a new wonder, face switching from delight to disgust depending on the page.
"Promise me you'll practice the spells on yourself to perfection before trying them on her, and talk to her first before you go and try them. Consent, it's important."
"Harry… where did you get this?"
"Where do you think I got it! Your brother!"
"I… I can't believe it! He didn't give me one, but gave YOU one?"
"Well, I went asking for it, didn't I?" Harry said, thinking about everyone in his year knowing he had a copy. "And it was embarrassing to ask, mind. And George TOLD people I asked for it. Get ready, because if he finds out you have one, you'll never hear the end of it. You'll be lucky if he doesn't bring it up at dinner. AND Hermione will kill us both."
Ron didn't seem to be paying attention anymore. Harry snatched the book from him and forced it closed, Ron looking at him, mouth still open. "Again—HIDE IT, do not let Hermione see it, practice a spell a thousand times on yourself, especially the weird ones, and then, and ONLY then, ask her for permission before you whip your wand out. And if she ever, EVER knows you have it… blame it on George. NOW you can't accuse me of being a bad friend," he released the book back to him.
"All her sex books are so educational," Ron moaned. "Anatomy. Diagrams. Some wandwork, yes, but nothing like this!"
"Well, she probably does have them. They're probably disguised as… wizarding law or… elf linage. Ron, I don't think she minds trying new things, but you know, those are big steps for anyone."
There was a knock at the door. "Harry? Ron?" Hermione yelled over Muffliato. "Mrs. Weasley is asking us to come back downstairs. Do you need more time? That's fine, but I don't think Severus will come back from the garden unless you're there!"
"No, we're done… just... we'll meet you outside!" he yelled back. "Seriously mate…" he switched to a hiss. "Keep that book hidden. Think like Hermione. Disguise it as… as one of George's joke books, or something. Immature, stupid, something she'll roll her eyes at and never open on purpose."
"Alright mate." Ron hid it under his bed in what looked like his fourth-year dress robes. They both got up.
"Alright, now act mad at me or something, like we had a row but we've calmed down."
"You want a row? Because I've got one ready."
"Really? Here I was blaming Felix for you not punching me."
"There's about twenty-five things I'm not allowed to say, according to 'Mione, and about fifty more questions I'm not allowed to ask."
"Well, just don't ask them at work. Ready? I'm about to open the door. Have a go—now." And he undid Muffliato.
"Seriously though, SNAPE!?" Ron raised his voice. "Harry, I'm not one to talk about the attractiveness of other blokes, but he's not even good looking. AND he smells funny."
They opened the door, Hermione looking worried, waiting for them out in the hallway.
"He does not smell funny!" Harry shot at him.
"Oh, yes he DOES!" Ron exclaimed, serious.
"Okay, so he does," Harry admitted. "But it's not a bad smell."
"I didn't say it was a bad smell, I said it was a funny smell."
"Don't talk about him like that, yeah? It's not like I can make fun of the person you're dating," he gestured towards Hermione right in front of them.
"Blimey, you can try. Go on, have a go. See how that works for you."
"I will if you do! Go on, have a go at Snape downstairs, be my guest. But you'll be sorry, and you'll thank him for the lesson." Ron tried to think of a good comeback for this but insulting Severus Snape to his face did seem like a poor man's gamble.
"Are we going downstairs now?" George popped out. "And I second insulting Severus Snape to his face. Barely said a word. Harry, is he still spiteful and awful?"
"Of course! You think he was going to turn into a fluffy little Niffler just because he's dating me?"
"Oh, I'm definitely going to call him that. In speaking of, I need to clear up some rumors with you," and George's face turned positively mischievous.
"Please, not in front of Ron," Harry begged.
"OH yes! He's your best mate! He'll learn eventually. Does he, or does he not… have a pierced tackle?"
Harry laughed, the absurdity was too much. "No!"
"Just checking! That's what I heard."
"You made that up."
"WELL, I did hear that he was quite adventurous and into weird things."
"If he was, I wouldn't tell you."
"I heard you tied him to the ceiling."
Harry shot an incredulous look at Hermione for tattling, and then a panicked one at Ron that more or less confirmed the rumor. "NO, wrong again, George. Fluffy little Niffler, remember?" And Harry spent the next sixty seconds trying to get George to shut up before they got to the kitchen.
"You're dating Snape. If you're tying him to the ceiling, torturing him, I think we'd all feel a lot better about it," George whispered. "It's an improvement over the going rumor that he locks you in the basement when you're not at work."
"Shut up! Shut up! I will break your vial if you don't!"
Downstairs, Mr. Weasley still looked angry. Mrs. Weasley bustled around trying hard to act perfectly normal, deciding to serve the Christmas feast early. Harry opened the door to the garden, nodding, and two people in the distance knew it was safe to come back.
After dinner and presents, everyone gathered for a Christmas drink. Things were tense but George still grinned ear to ear like this was the best Christmas ever. Snape stared miserably into the ether like he wished he died in St. Mungo's with Celestina Warbeck wailing in the background, full glass in hand, not drinking.
"Pudding dears?" Mrs. Weasley offered to the room, looking sentimental.
"Yes mother, I will have some BUNDT CAKE."
Arthur shot a look at George like the wrong son died.
"GEORGE! I SAID not at the table!"
"I am NOT AT the table, as you can very well see, I'm standing right here on the floor!"
A knock rattled the door. Harry beat Mrs. Weasley to opening it.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS! Make it in okay? TEDDY!" Teddy was huge. Expecting a baby, he was not prepared to see a babbling almost-toddler.
"Oh, yes, journey was fine."
"Andromeda dear, I have some leftovers. Would you like some?"
"Oh no, thank you. I've already ate, I will have some later."
She relinquished Teddy into Harry's arms, who took him, settling down next to Snape on the couch who stiffened unnaturally.
"Severus…" Andromeda acknowledged, not quite meeting his eye, sitting down next to Harry.
"WOW! How is he doing that?" Harry held Teddy out, watching him change not only his hair, but the color of his eyes.
"I don't know. Nymphadora couldn't change her eye color until she was ten," she smiled sadly.
Beside him, he could feel Snape's rigid unease. And what was worse, everyone was not looking at cute boisterous Teddy, they were looking at Snape, watching his severe discomfort as Harry cooed his Godson.
Harry spent the next hour flying Teddy around the kitchen in his arms with his new stuffed hooting owl toy, the expensive one with the soft plush feathers.
George drank his Felix Felicis in front of the whole family and disappeared, Disapparating to go talk to a girl he'd been trying to woo, even after Snape's speech about proper use.
When Christmas Dinner was over, Harry hugged most of the family but gave Ginny the awkwardest of handshakes, unsure if he could give her a friendly hug. When he got to Mr. Weasley, he shook his hand too, giving him a firm but apologetic look for not humoring his lecture. It was a little late for that. At the door, he handed Andromeda a wrapped parcel. "Open it later, alright?"
"Harry, thank you for the owl. Teddy Loves it. It's so cute."
"I'll see you on his birthday then—no, sooner. Owl anytime. See you, Andromeda. Merry Christmas everyone, see you all soon!"
"Bye, mate!"
"Bye, Harry!" Hermione waved.
"Merry Christmas, dear!"
It was a little colder now as they walked back through garden to a point they could Disapparate.
"Did you forget that I'm a Godfather?"
"A mere complication."
"…So? What do you think?"
"Their house is cramped."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"…It didn't go half as bad as anticipated. Not even a quarter. I wasn't hexed or Avada Kedavra'd, and your friend Ronald made some uncomfortable eye contact."
"Felix helped, I think. It's almost as if we drank it ourselves. Funny how that works."
"A poor attempt at bribery—I'm sure they perceived you better than that."
"They thought wrong," and Harry squeezed his arm.
CRACK!
Back in Grimmauld Place Snape unloaded their bag, pulling out a Weasley sweater and underhanding it straight into the fire.
"Oi! That's rude! It's BLACK and everything."
They wrestled over the sweater. The fire won.
Snape lined up several other gifts, including rare dragon potion ingredients from Charlie, a very tattered valuable leather book from Hermione she 'borrowed' from Ministry archives, and a second handsome book from all people, Percy.
"You made out better than I did this year. Those aren't half-bad, you know."
"I'm surprised they tried so hard." It sounded like resentment.
"They got FELIX!" Harry argued, trying to take off his own sweater that had a crude knitted rendition of what a Slyffin-puff might look like. The only nasty thing Snape said at the Burrow was when he unwrapped it, muttering something like 'mumble mumble mentally challenged.' Harry privately agreed, its eyes were knitted too close together making it look rather cross-eyed.
"Oh no," Snape snorted. "Keep that on."
"Don't think I will, thanks. Well, night's over. No one is bleeding. Do you think you can handle this family stuff?"
"The Weasleys or the chameleon?"
Harry shrugged at him. Whichever.
"…Do I have a choice?"
"Teddy's with Andromeda most of the year, but I think I'll make a good Godfather."
"Lucky me."
Harry threw his sweater on the back of the chair and straightened the t-shirt that he had underneath. "Are we drinking?"
"Yes, I need a drink. Several. You know I didn't drink today on purpose." Snape held out his hand expectantly like Harry couldn't pour fast enough.
"You didn't say anything all day. Don't know if that hurt or helped… or if that was even possible." Harry took a decent sized gulp, handing over the second glass, and they retired to the sitting room.
Snape sunk into the couch like he survived something dreadful.
"It wasn't that bad."
"Yes, it was."
"You went to the Burrow with me for Christmas, if that's not an Enigma, I don't know what is."
"An Enigma? I'll give you an Enigma: I am living in Black's house, buggering Potter's son, and now I'm an honorary uncle to Lupin's welp."
"Oh, are those complaints?" Harry asked, giving him an eyebrow for the tasteless joke.
"Complaints? Oh no, Potter... this is revenge."
~END~
I hope you enjoyed my wild 8th year book! Friendly reminder, the very explicit version of this fic is on the AO3 Website. I didn't my best to still give you a naughty fic without the explicit content.
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