Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Thirty-Four—Two Christmases
"Harry, you will calm down and come into the drawing room for Christmas."
Harry grimaces and turns around, rubbing sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist. Severus narrows his eyes. "Have you been in here training since five this morning?" he asks sharply. That was when he heard Harry get up, but he thought his ward would have paused for breakfast, at least. From the way Harry is pale and wobbling on his feet, that's not the case.
"I need to—"
"The potion thrown at the gala could have been aimed at you, or the Minister, or both. That does not mean that you need to half-kill yourself training."
"But it could have—"
"It could have killed you, or someone else. It did not do so." Severus pauses and tries to soften his voice. He does not want to alienate Harry. But neither does he want to make it seem like he approves of Harry's efforts to drive himself into the floor. "Harry, even Lyassa would agree that you need time off, to relax."
"But if Voldemort invades Hogwarts—"
"Which he has not yet done. Will you come to the drawing room, or do I need to drag you?"
Harry blinks at him for a long second. Then he looks down at his shirt, which is torn from a spell he must have practiced that probably rebounded, and stores his wand. "I'll come with you," he mutters, and follows.
Severus is pleased, and not only because there are children waiting for him and Harry in the drawing room who will also be pleased to see their "leader" back in a more normal setting. The intensity of Harry's practice since the maybe-assassination-attempt at the Ministry has frightened him.
He still cannot find any trace of interference from Voldemort in Harry's mind. This is probably simply Harry's fear being magnified and amplified because the potion could have hit Sirius as well as Harry or the Minister.
Severus knows that Harry wants no casualties to happen from this war. He must simply figure out a way to impress on Harry that such things will inevitably happen, and that they will not be all his fault.
The deaths would be your fault if Voldemort attacked.
Harry manages to smile as he sits down on the floor between Theo and Blaise. Daphne and Astoria are in the circle across from them, with Hermione sitting on Astoria's left. Luna is on Daphne's right, smiling at Harry while she plays with a piece of hair, twirling it around her finger. Her father isn't neglectful or abusive the way the others' parents are, but then, neither are Hermione's. Both Mr. Lovegood and the Doctors Granger just agreed to their children spending Christmas morning with Harry.
How can I keep them safe from Voldemort?
Harry does his best to press the concern to the far reaches of his mind. For right now, they're all gathered in the middle of his and Snape's house on Christmas morning, and Sirius and Remus are waiting to welcome him to Grimmauld Place later, with the Weasleys set to visit tomorrow. Originally, Harry was going to spend the morning with Sirius and Remus and the afternoon here, but they decided to reverse it so Hermione and Luna could spend the afternoons with their families. He's with his friends and his guardian, and they're going to exchange gifts, and everything is fine.
"Fine?" asks Lion on his shoulder, leaning over to drape his tongue over the top of Harry's ear. Harry laughs, finally, and strokes his snake to get him to back off.
"Fine," Harry hisses back, and notices from the corner of his eye that no one flinches at the sound. Yes, these are his true friends, and they're not upset by a bit of hissing. He smiles as he drags the first gift towards him to open, the one from Severus.
He opens it to find a large Potions book, The Annotated Guide for Ingredient Preparation. Harry grins up at Severus. "Thank you! It still drives you mad when I don't slice my slugs thinly enough, doesn't it?"
"If you do not receive an Outstanding on your Potions OWL, it will not be my fault," Severus says, and sips from a glass that looks like it holds butterbeer. Harry would be privately tempted to bet it's something stronger.
"It won't be mine, either," Hermione says, as she opens the folder Harry got her that unfolds itself into neat leather squares with pockets that contain ink, quills, and parchment. She smiles at Harry. "Thank you, Harry." She holds a hand over the pocket for parchment and gasps as a sheet shoots out and into her hand. "Did you know it did that?"
"Of course I did. Why else would I buy it for you?"
"It would be a perfectly nice gift even if—"
Harry listens with an absent half-smile as he watches Theo unwrap Harry's gift to him, a grey crystal on a chain that makes Theo's eyes widen. Harry wondered if he would recognize it, but of course he does. "Thank you, Harry," Theo says quietly, and tucks the crystal away into his robe pocket.
"You're welcome," Harry murmurs back. The crystal will help Theo with his Animagus transformations, making them smoother and giving him less of a chance to be stuck in one form. It'll also, at least if the shop where Harry bought it was telling the truth, settle and calm Theo's mind just by being around him, whether or not he wears it.
Theo is pretty smooth with the way he flows back and forth between leopard and human, but given that all his transformations so far have been in battle, Harry doesn't think the extra help will go amiss.
He bought similar crystals for Daphne and Astoria, ones that will absorb the impact of a hostile hex directed at them. If they catch too many spells in a row, they'll shatter, but if they have the chance to rest and absorb the spells between one hex and another, they can be used again and again. Harry has to explain what the crystal is to Astoria, but she looks happy and on the verge of tears as she claps the silver chain around her neck. Harry is glad that she doesn't actually cry. Daphne's glance is considering and cool as she puts hers on, but she does say thank you.
Harry gets more Defense books from Hermione and Luna, a wand-polishing cloth from Blaise "guaranteed to clean off blood," as Blaise tells him with an innocent expression, and something that he doesn't understand at first from Theo. Harry blinks down at the slender thong in his hand, and glances at Theo. "For my hair?" he asks. He'll appreciate the gift just because Theo gave it to him, but his hair isn't actually long enough for him to wear that.
Theo smiles at him. "No. A belt." He picks up the gift and tilts it, and Harry can make out the buckles, so similar in color to the shimmering, opalescent sheen of the belt itself that he didn't see them.
"Huh. Thanks." Harry tilts the belt back and forth until he's sure of the answer to his question, but he asks Theo anyway, just to see what he'll say. "Made of snake scales?"
"Yes. The scales of a serpent called the Emerald Suntail. Magical species. The scales are green on the snake, but turn rainbow-colored when they fall off. They're supposed to bring good luck."
"I can see why you thought I needed it," Harry says, hoping to tease a smile out of Theo. Theo just gives him a grave nod, and Harry sighs and sets the belt carefully aside. Sometimes he thinks he's not the one who most needs the intervention of someone else.
A delighted squeal draws Harry's attention back across the circle, and he smiles as he sees Luna holding up the field naturalist's notebook he got her. It has a sturdy leather cover that can resist water and fire of any degree of heat up to a Chinese Fireball's, and will add pages inside up to five thousand. "Thank you, Harry!" Luna looks awake, as Harry has to think of it, her eyes shining.
"You're welcome, Luna. I thought you should be able to write down your notes if you're actually on the trail of a creature, you know?"
Luna gives him another smile and takes a small bottled potion out of her robe pocket. Harry isn't surprised. She's told him her father is a brewer as well as a naturalist and journalist, and Luna has taken odd potions in front of them before. They don't usually have any visible effect, but Luna likes them.
Harry is all the more startled, therefore, when she tosses the little bottle to him. Harry fumbles and nearly drops. He's aware of Severus coming alert in his chair, but most of his attention at the moment is on the potion, which shines like the scales of the belt Theo gave him. The cork in the bottle is also made of glass, fluted, and iridescent. "You already gave me the book, Luna," Harry says, feeling foolish, and wondering if she forgot.
Luna smiles at him again. "I know, but this potion is a joint gift from me and Daddy. You should take it within an hour."
Harry nods, but sighs as he sees Severus's hand thrust out demandingly from his left. "All right, Luna. I just need Severus to check it over first."
"He should," Luna agrees. "Maybe the nargles have compromised it."
From the baffled, irritated glance Severus gives Luna, he doesn't know what that means but would die rather than admit it. Harry hides his own smile and goes back to watching as Blaise opens his gift from Theo, a pair of dragonhide gloves that are specially made to bat back venomous tentacles on Herbology plants, from Blaise's excited announcement.
"What is this?"
Harry turns around. Severus is glaring at Luna, and Harry bristles a little. Severus is special to him, of course, but Luna needs protection, too.
"A potion Daddy made," Luna says, and beams at him. "I helped cut the Luxurious Tangleweed and dice the slugs for it."
"Luxurious Tangleweed is extinct."
"I don't think anyone told it that."
Severus peers at Luna in a way that makes Harry certain he'll be paying a lot more attention to her in Potions from now on. Harry clears his throat, hoping he's hiding his amusement. "Is the potion all right?"
"Yes," Severus practically spits, and flings the bottle at Harry. Harry is grateful for the times that he's practiced as a Seeker in informal games for the last few years, or he probably wouldn't have caught it. "It will guarantee you at least six months of no headaches, no matter what someone does to your head.:
Harry blinks. That probably means Voldemort can't use their connection to torment Harry, of course, but if it was just that, Severus would be happier. "Er, why would that be a bad thing, sir?"
Severus glares at Harry for the title, and then seems to realize that he's acting more like the dungeon bat than he has in a while. He draws in a breath, holds it, shakes his head, and reaches for the mug of probably-not-butterbeer sitting next to him. "It means that you will not feel the pain when something hits your head, either," he snarls. "You will drink it, but you will also keep a very close eye out for blood or injury of any kind, you hear?"
"Don't worry, Professor Snape. We'll help him watch for it."
Blaise sounds utterly sincere. Harry snorts, then smiles at Luna and pulls out the little glass stopper. "Thank you, Luna," he says, and toasts her with the potion before he slings it down his throat.
The taste is light and sweet, and then the effect kicks in like alcohol probably would if either Severus or Sirius let him taste it more often. Harry gasps and bends over, his face flushing. Lion hisses and leaves his shoulders to hover in front of him, staring worriedly into Harry's face.
"It's all right," Harry hisses back at him, and his snake eyes him for a moment more before he flutters back to Harry's shoulder. Harry reaches up to touch him with one hand. His other is feeling at his chest. It feels as though someone kicked him, but with the shock instead of pain.
"Oh, yes," Luna says, unconcerned, as she opens a small blue present with fluttering black thestrals on the paper and smiles at the utterly incomprehensible tangle of blue thread inside it. "It does have a bit of a kick."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry croaks, and ignores the way that most of the others are snickering. He sits up and feels along the back of his head, then relaxes and smiles at her. "I think it'll be useful."
"If it wasn't, why would I have given it to you?"
Harry smiles again. "That's a really good question." And not one that Severus feels prepared to answer, if the way he looks is any indication. Harry turns back to the circle of people opening presents feeling more cheerful than he has in a while.
"Hi, Sirius and Remus! Hi, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco."
It's hilarious to Sirius, how his godson's voice changes when he steps out of the fireplace into Grimmauld Place and notices Narcissa and Draco standing behind Sirius. He gives Sirius a questioning glance as he hugs him.
"Do you disapprove?" Sirius asks into his hair.
"No, I expected them to be here. I just got them very basic gifts, though," Harry murmurs back as he steps away again.
"That's all they'll expect," Sirius says, with a pat on Harry's shoulder. It's possible that isn't true when it comes to Draco, but the young whelp will keep a civil tongue in his head, or Sirius might show him what it's like to be Transfigured into a cat and chased all over the house by a barking dog.
(Junius Avery probably still hates Sirius for that. Sirius considers it well worth it).
"Welcome, Harry." Narcissa steps forwards and bends down to kiss Harry's cheek. "Do come into the drawing room. There's a bigger fire there, and a tree, of course." She swishes away down the corridor, guiding Harry with her while at the same time managing to make it look as if it's his own idea.
Sirius doesn't admire the causes that Narcissa devoted herself to for so many years, but he does admire her style. He catches Remus's eye and smiles as they walk towards the drawing room in his cousin's wake.
"Think that we'll have a squabble over the wrapping paper?" Remus asks, so softly that only ears enhanced by lycanthropy or frequent Animagus transformations could pick it up. Sirius still thinks he sees a slight twitch of Narcissa's head in their direction.
Sirius shakes his head. "Both of them, no, for the same reason. Narcissa is there."
Remus relaxes, and Sirius realizes his friend was actually worried about that. He reaches down to squeeze Remus's hand. Remus, after a minute hesitation, squeezes back.
Draco is apprehensive about two things: the gift Harry got him, and Harry's reaction to the gift Draco got him. The present itself is more than acceptable, as Draco well knows. But Harry has only one person here who can tell him that, and that's Mother. She will probably consider it crass to praise the gift her son got a friend.
A maybe-friend? A recent sort-of-enemy?
Draco shakes his head as he opens the gift Harry got him. He stops breathing when he sees what lies in the box.
It's a simple book, a white journal with silver lettering on the front. The lettering forms runes that Draco knows well. This is a mourning journal, a book that will both allow the recipient to write down anything they want about a loss while the book holds it secret, and lessen the grief with the time spent writing. They're somewhat controversial, as some people prefer to let their grief fade naturally and so would consider it an insult to use such a book or give it to someone, but they're highly magical.
Harry shifts. Draco looks up and finds that Harry's eyes are fixed on him and his smile is small and equally fixed.
He was anxious about it, too, Draco realizes abruptly. He didn't know how I would receive it. Or maybe how I would react to his acknowledging my father's death.
Draco clears his throat, nods to Harry, and lays down the journal gently. At the moment, he doesn't know if he'll use it, but he appreciates the acknowledgment behind the gift, and the way that Harry at least wants him to heal. "Thank you, Harry."
Harry's smile becomes more real, and he lifts the lid off the shallow ebony box that Draco got for him. He blinks and picks it up, turning it around. Draco tamps down his irritation that Harry doesn't seem to recognize it. Of course he wouldn't.
"It's meant to hold any small trinkets that you'd like to keep and don't have a good place for in your trunk," Draco says, and clears his throat. He doesn't like the way that his voice wavers. He didn't think he was that anxious, for Merlin's sake. "Like jewelry or valuable quills or—anything like that."
Harry blinks one more time. Then he looks up with a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Draco." Lion flutters his wings in what looks like approval, and Draco dares to incline his head to him, something he hasn't done ever since he and Harry were on the outs.
The soft hiss that comes from the winged snake feels like benediction, but not as much as Harry's smile.