A/N: Once again, I'm sorry for the long wait; it seems like I've totally lost my ability to write and every sentence is a painful process. But I haven't given up and forced that new chapter out anyway, so I hope you enjoy it :) And to give you something to look forward to - I would like the next three chapters to cover their world tour but I'm kind of hopeless at imagining what they could do together so I'm offering collaboration with you, my readers - write what you would like Snape and Luna to do and I'll see if I can work it into my story. Looking forward to your suggestions!

Alternating between his research, work for St Mungo's and his acquaintances, both old and new, Snape could hardly believe he had ever felt lonely. Even so, as Christmas drew near, he found himself growing more and more restless. It was all well and good to have other friends, but there was only one Luna, and the closer their meeting got, the more difficult it was for him to stay focused. Therefore it happened that while he was switching between brewing a potion for St Mungo's and dissecting a Moon Frog's spleen, he must have scrubbed his hands with little less care than usual and left some remains of the dandelion roots he had been cutting on one of his fingers, for how else to explain that when he later examined said finger, the callus that had definitely been there only a few hours earlier was gone? Naturally, he did not waste a single moment and immediately rushed to prove his theory, eagerly dabbing dandelion root juice on another finger and then smearing it with frog spleen. At first nothing happened, but after a minute or so the two ingredients reacted and Snape could only watch with fascination as the tip of his finger transformed before his very eyes: gradually, the rough, calloused skin softened, until only a smooth pink patch remained, making it seem as if Snape's fingertip had miraculously been exchanged for that of a baby.

Ecstatic as only a researcher following a discovery could be, Snape allowed himself a victorious smile. There was no doubt about it now, he had just found another property of the Moon Frogs: not only could they seal wounds, but, mixed with dandelion root, they also had the ability to rejuvenate the skin, making it look years younger. He could not wait to start experimenting on his face, for if the results turned out to be similar to what had happened to his fingers, he had a sneaking suspicion witches of all ages would be dying to get their hands on the final product.

Deep inside, though, he could not help but feel a little cheated. After all these months, he had expected to discover something that would save lives, or at least cure as yet incurable diseases, but what did he get? Facial cream.

He could only hope that the Moon Frogs had yet to disclose further secrets, and that whatever property he stumbled upon next would turn out to be somewhat less ... cosmetic.

After continued experimentation, however, he had to admit that his disappointment had been premature. His original intention had been to apply the mixture to only a small patch of skin somewhere along his jawbone, but the result was so striking that in the end he had to spread it all over his face so as not to look as though he had recently fallen victim to Spattergroit. At least that was what he told himself. The fact that he rather liked the uncharacteristically healthy glow of his skin had nothing to do with it, of course.

What was more, as he was studying his new and, he supposed, slightly less ugly face in the mirror, he suddenly noticed something that had previously escaped him: ever since a particularly gruesome duel with Potter Sr. in his sixth year, he had had a small scar on his cheek, which, being the result of a spell, could never be completely healed. Now, however, there was not the slightest trace of it. Could it be that the mixture not only rejuvenated the skin, but was also able to remove scars?

Unbuttoning his collar, he gazed at the unsightly marks left by Nagini's fangs for a moment, then, in silent anticipation, dabbed both ingredients on them. He almost forgot to breathe as, after what seemed like an eternity, the scars glowed slightly brighter for a second or two ... before they simply disappeared, as if they had never been there at all.

Snape was awestruck. While this effect still did not, technically speaking, save lives, he could not deny that it was impressive. He did not consider himself a vain person, with his appearance always being the least of his worries, but even he found the sight of his scars unappealing, and could therefore imagine how liberating it would be for others to have the opportunity for this dramatic improvement in their looks. He had had a student in Slytherin once who had suffered magical injuries to his face while experimenting with a potion during the summer holidays. He remembered he had never been the same after that, turning from a sociable boy to a recluse in a matter of weeks. He supposed his discovery could prevent others like him from becoming bitter, mere shadows of their former selves. He, of all people, would know about that, the only difference being that his scars were not of a physical nature.

Getting this far in his thoughts, his eyes unwittingly fell upon his left forearm, now exposed due to his habit of rolling up his sleeves before commencing any kind of work. The Dark Mark, albeit somewhat faded now that the one who had controlled it was gone, seemed to glare back at him. Perhaps he was hoping for too much, but if the Moon Frogs had the ability to remove scars, could it be that they would also work on something as specific as this? Then again, did he want them to? His Dark Mark had always been a reminder of who he was: a person who had made a grave mistake that he could never atone for, though he would do his best to at least try. Who would he be without it? Somebody who had been given a chance to start again? To live as they wanted, not as they were forced to live? Somebody who was finally free of their past?

Turning these rather perplexing questions over in his mind, he eventually came to the conclusion that the only thing that made sense lay somewhere in between. He was prepared to embrace his new life, yes, but he also never wanted to forget what he had done, even if the memories hurt him. Not only to ensure that he did not repeat his mistakes again, but also, though everyone was trying to convince him otherwise, because he had an ingrained belief that someone with his history did not deserve true happiness; shards of it, perhaps, but always tainted by his past deeds. That was why he ultimately cleansed the skin covering the rest of his body, not wanting his head and throat to look as if they came from another planet, but was careful to avoid touching the Dark Mark. Some scars were simply not meant to be removed.

If anyone had ever told Snape a time would come when he would wake up at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning literally shaking with anticipation, he would think they had been hit by the Confundus Charm, at the very least. He had never understood what the big fuss was about: decorations that had to be put up only to be taken down again a few days later, the annoying task of chasing for presents in crowded shops. In his early days of teaching, some of his colleagues had actually been foolish enough to engage him in playing Secret Santa with them, but they had quickly reconsidered under his withering look. Since then, the only person he had exchanged presents with was Dumbledore, who had always claimed nothing would please him more than a pair of socks, and though Snape had not quite believed him, he had been happy to oblige. Anything to avoid the hassle of trying to come up with something new and original each year.

This particular year, however, things were different. Instead of moping around in the dungeons (or, after Dumbledore's death, the Headmaster's office), he had been invited to spend Christmas Day with the Lovegoods, which made him feel strangely sentimental, as if he had finally found something he had not even known he had been missing. Unexpectedly, he had also had no trouble choosing presents for either father or daughter, perhaps because he could be sure that anything out of the ordinary would hit the bull's eye.

Thus, when the long-awaited day finally arrived, he could be found pacing back and forth on the Lovegoods' doorstep with both packages stuffed in his pockets, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing Luna again, yet a little nervous at the same time. The last Christmas he had spent outside of Hogwarts was nearly thirty years before, and the memory was certainly not one to be cherished. His father had criticised everything his mother had touched, from the meal to the meagre decorations, and it was clear an argument was imminent. As soon as he was able, Snape had fled to his room, finding consolation in the fact that the following year he would already be at Hogwarts, something his father had kept reminding him of with undisguised pleasure at regular intervals.

Naturally, there was no doubt that Christmas with the Lovegoods would be nothing like Christmas with his own family, but as that was the only thing he had ever experienced, he did not quite know what to expect, and unknown things had always made him uneasy. That was why he almost flinched when the door opened, but the shock lasted only a second, for there stood Luna, and suddenly all he could feel was an overwhelming rush of euphoria, so intense he thought his chest would explode. He had a wild urge to hug her, to show her how much he had missed her, but held back at the last moment. Luna might be a friend he trusted more than anyone, but his belief that an open display of emotions led to nothing but pain was too ingrained to overcome. For all he knew, it might not even be welcome, as he had just noticed Luna gazing at him in a decidedly disconcerting way.

"Severus!" she cried. "I nearly didn't recognise you. Have you discovered how to make an Anti-Ageing Potion? That would be brilliant! So many potioneers have tried, but the results were mostly quite funny. Did you know Libatius Borage had got his face covered in fish scales as a side effect?"

Inwardly, Snape let out a sigh of relief. So that was what had thrown Luna off balance; he had been so anxious he had completely forgotten that his new appearance might take some getting used to.

"Indeed," he smirked. "I also happen to know that Vindictus Viridian fared even worse – before he was able to reverse the effects of his experimental potion, his skin had peeled off completely."

"Ooh, that does sound rather unpleasant. At least he got his skin back, though. He might have just fallen apart otherwise. I do hope your potion gave you no such trouble."

"I am pleased to say it did not. Though perhaps I would not quite call it a potion. Let us go inside and I shall tell you all about it."

"Oh, of course! Dad will be wondering what has become of us. It's so easy to get caught up in the moment when I'm talking to you. I really couldn't wait to see you again. It was strange being at Hogwarts without you there. It was as if a part of it was missing."

A myriad of emotions swept over Snape at her words, words that instantly dispelled all his insecurities that during their time apart Luna's enthusiasm for their friendship might have waned. As far as he was concerned, she could not have given him a better Christmas present if she tried.

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Luna," he managed to reply at least partly in kind, doing his best to keep his voice steady. He had to get his emotions under control anyway, for they entered the kitchen then, where Xeno already stood waiting, a glass in each hand.

"Severus!" he exclaimed happily. "Lovely to see you, old chap. You will have a toast with us, I trust?"

"Of course," said Snape, readily accepting the offered glass. After last time he already knew what to expect, at least.

"Excellent!" beamed Xeno, handing the other glass to Luna and taking a third one off the table for himself. "Well then, merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Snape and Luna echoed, raising their glasses. It pleased Snape greatly that his eyes did not even water as he eventually took a sip, which was certainly an improvement.

Dinner followed, a pleasant affair spent in animated chatter, mostly revolving around Moon Frogs and their newfound property. As for the meal itself, Snape could only compliment Luna's cooking; while the house-elves at Hogwarts could undoubtedly make excellent turkey, Luna was clearly not afraid to experiment, and the result was unlike anything he had ever tasted.

"And now, presents!" declared Xeno as soon as they had concluded the meal with a glass of eggnog.

Dutifully, they all moved towards the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room, under which Snape could see a modest pile of packages wrapped in wrapping paper that seemed to cover all colours of the rainbow.

"Severus first," Xeno decided, digging into the pile and handing Snape a gift whose shape left Snape in no doubt as to what he would find inside. Sure enough, removing the colourful paper revealed a bottle of Xeno's homemade plum brandy.

"Why, that is very thoughtful of you, Xeno," Snape said, touched. Somehow he could sense that the man would not share his precious brandy with just anyone. "Thank you."

Setting the bottle aside, he then reached into his pocket and offered Xeno his own present. Looking as delighted as a little boy, the blond man accepted it and proceeded to attack the wrapping paper with gusto.

"A new quill!" he exclaimed, having finally got through the layers of wrapping to the present itself. "And my favourite colour, too!"

"That is no ordinary quill," Snape instructed him. "It is a Quick-Quotes Quill, much like the one Rita Skeeter has. This one, however, records what people say truthfully. I thought it might come in useful during your interviews, to help you write down what is being said faster."

"Indeed, how clever!" beamed Xeno, turning the quill over in his hands, obviously eager to test it at the earliest opportunity. "I had always thought Rita's quill was one of a kind, but it seems that is no longer true. Thank you ever so much, Severus!"

"It is nothing."

And, while both father and daughter were still busy admiring the canary yellow quill, he quickly pulled out his second present.

"This one is for you, Luna," he said gently, holding his hand out to her.

"For me?" repeated the Ravenclaw, looking as though the fact caught her by surprise. Snape guessed she was not used to getting presents from anyone but her father, and the thought filled him with sadness. Even he had got presents from his fellow Slytherins while he was a student (and, before they had fallen out, from Lily as well), but it seemed that although Luna had eventually found friends in Harry and his gang, they were obviously not friends enough to think of her at Christmas. He vowed to himself to make it up to her.

Meanwhile, the girl had finished unwrapping his gift (a book called Mythical Creatures of Scotland), and was now staring at it with enchantment, as if she had never seen anything like it. Then, without warning, she jumped up and gave Snape an affectionate hug.

"I love your present, Severus," she declared, in a tone akin to that of someone making an official statement. "Thank you."

Snape only nodded and gave her a warm smile, which he hoped reflected the sudden warmth that had filled his heart upon seeing that his present had made his friend happy. Thereafter Luna crouched down again, carefully set the book aside, making it look like she was handling a priceless relic, and reached for a flat rectangle-shaped gift that was almost as big as she was.

"I have something for you as well," she said, handing the huge parcel over.

Curious, Snape tore off the wrapping paper, and was shocked to find one of Luna's paintings. He recognised what it depicted immediately. There was an art gallery, with a table and two chairs in the foreground, occupied by none other than Luna and himself, frozen in a moment when he was just pouring Luna tea, while she was smiling at him gratefully. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. How could he not? It was their first meeting in the Room of Requirement, a breaking point in their relationship, where they moved from being a student and teacher to becoming friends, at least in his mind. He had never asked Luna if she felt the same way, but if she had chosen to paint this moment above all others, it indicated that it must be significant for her as well. Even now, he still marvelled at the unlikeliness of their friendship, and was still certain that one day Luna would simply get bored of him and move on, but the painting was like a balm for his worries, for it, just like the girl's confession earlier, assured him that, at least for now, that day had not yet come.

"I really can't wait for our trip," Luna's voice cut through his musings, abruptly bringing him back to reality. "Then we'll be able to visit the art gallery for real. Though I'm afraid we won't be allowed to drink our tea right next to the paintings like we did in the Room of Requirement. The gallery staff might not like that."

"That is probably true," agreed Snape. "But perhaps there will be a café, at least."

He deliberately sounded nonchalant, but inside his emotions were in turmoil. He had not even had to ask to find out Luna still wanted to go ahead with the original plan, and since death had not claimed him as he had expected, the world tour was no longer a 'maybe', it was a given, it was real, only a few months away. Excitement and terror battled within him: on the one hand he was bursting to go, but on the other fear was dictating him not to venture into unknown territory, to stay where he felt safe. He hated this weakness of his, but would do everything to fight it. He was not a coward, and no one, least of all Luna, must see him as such.

Therefore, not to feed his anxiety further, he changed the subject by thanking his friend for her lovely present, and then did his best to enjoy the rest of the festivities by keeping any thoughts of the upcoming trip carefully stowed at the back of his mind. He had the feeling that in the following half a year or so he would spend more time in their company than he was comfortable with.

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