Notes:A little bit of Christmas in July, I'm well aware this isn't anywhere near the Christmas season, but it's still fun!I know this plot has been done to death, but I thought I’d give it a try.

Warning: This story includes, rather centers upon, a relationship between two men, there also may be some light cursing. If this isn’t your thing, you’re going to want look elsewhere now.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Harry Potter characters, and I’m certainly not writing this story for profit, only for fun.

Mistletoe

Seven days before Christmas and twenty minutes before our story begins in earnest,

our hero is sighing loudly in his library. Well, his library slash study slash living room.

Severus sighed. Loudly.

Deciding he rather liked the gloomy sound it made in the magnificently silent house, he sighed again, even louder.

Yes, Severus Snape, is our hero.

And like all good heroes, his strength of character was about to be tested,

in about, oh, nineteen minutes now.

In the last few months, he had not been able to hear himself think, let alone sigh, what with the tiresome nuisance of a war and, this one made him shutter, houseguests. The houses belonging to the Order’s members had been the first destroyed by He-who-was-defeated-yet-still-must-not-be-named-beacause-some-wizards-are-frightfully-silly-and-superstitious (make that most wizards).

Severus’ small, two-level flat, with exactly four and half rooms, was not meant to accommodate houseguests, and had had to be magically enlarged for the delightful occasion. The last of his houseguests, Lupin and the rainbow-haired terror of an Auror had cleared out about an hour ago. His residence was finally do-gooder-free and going back to normal. It wasn’t nearly soon enough.

For good measure, Severus sighed again. He was seated at his desk, his usual robes discarded, wearing only a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and a pair of sensible black pants. His hair, which was getting a little too long, was held back in a thick black tie. His expression was resigned as he took in the pile of boxes beside his desk.

Over the last few months, his house had been filled, not only with Order members, but with war intelligence and classified communications. Now he was left with the unpleasant task of filing all that information away, or, in many cases, meticulously destroying it, before his house could be purged of all things Order and Harry Potter related.

Grudgingly, he picked up the first file, one that had been confiscated from a Death Eater; one who had been working as a spy for Voldemort within the Ministry. Opening it up, he found it was chiefly comprised of pictures taken of the great Saviour himself. Severus assumed they were taken to monitor all of Potter’s comings and goings. No matter, they would all be destroyed now.

For no reason other than curiosity, Severus flipped through the pictures, each of which captured Potter in a different situation. He flipped from one picture to the next, admiring the dark haired manchild with clinical detachment. He had certainly grown from the wisp of a boy he had been that first year. His face and body now has a defined, adult hardness to it; broad shoulders and a hard jaw line. That damnable trademark Potter hair falling into his eyes.

A loud rapping sound echoed from the front door. Severus wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, so ignored the unwanted interruption.

Our hero had never been a particularly patient man. But it should be noted,

he held out through nearly ten minutes of persistent knocking

before going to confront the unwanted visitor.

Severus fumed, jerking the door to his sanctuary open. “What in Merl – Aunt Clara? What in the devil’s name are you doing here?”

A sturdy cane pounded the stone steps outside his door. “Pfft. Is that anyway to greet your favourite aunt, and after making me wait on the front step for goodness knows how long? And in this district! Really Severus, I know you have the funds to move to a better neighbourhood, why you insist of living here, in the midst of this squalor, year after year, astounds me.”

“I wasn’t aware one could have a favourite aunt if one only had one solitary aunt.” Severus spoke dryly, ignoring the second half of the old woman’s diatribe. It was one he knew by heart, and he wasn’t about to get into it with her, yet again. Instead, he moved over to allow the tall, thin woman to push her way into his house, her cane coming dangerously close to smashing a few of his toes as she did.

“Pfft, Severus dear, no one dares speak to me the way you do.”

“That, is because you scare everyone else witless.” Severus replied truthfully, dutifully helping the grey-haired woman remove her heavy cloak and scarf. Clara was his father’s older sister and, like Severus, unquestionably a black sheep of the Snape family. She was also, of course, a muggle. Severus quickly sweep a critical gaze over the room to make sure nothing overtly magical was sitting out. Thank Merlin, the magical room extensions made to his house were removed that morning when Lupin left. It would have been impossible to explain to his aunt why his house had three times the number of rooms that could be seen from the outside.

The old woman harrumphed, banging her cane to the floor dangerously close to Severus’ toes again. “And you’re getting cheekier as you age.”

“Thank you, Madame.”

“That was not a compliment.”

“So, are you going to tell my why you decided to grace me with your presence? Without notice, I might add. You usually winter in much warmer climes and I did not expect see you again until well into spring.”

The hawk-nosed woman swept into his living room, which was also his main room, study, and library, making herself at home. “I decided to take a little break from my travels through Morocco to visit with my only nephew, and meet his fiancée. It is the holiday season after all.” Steely brown eyes looked sharply at Severus. “And if I had told you I was coming, you would have been out.”

Now would be as good as a time as any to mention

Our Hero does not have a fiancée.

The chances of him producing said imaginary woman now were slim.

Merlin’s beard, Severus schooled his features so as to not show the grimace he felt coming on. He had lied to his aunt about seeing someone. She was forever harassing him and trying to set him up with muggles from her book clubs and women’s auxiliary. He had finally run out of patience with the whole thing and told her he had found someone himself.

That had been over a year ago, since then he had used vague lies and blatant misrepresentation to avoid arguments with his aunt over his long-in-the-tooth bachelorhood, weaving a story about his nameless, faceless friend and eventually, after a great deal of maternal pressure from his aunt, fiancée.

“Ah, that’s not really possible at this time… Out of town for work.”

“Harumph.” The old women snorted lightly. “I see. Out of town so close to Christmas?” She walked around his living room/study/library, her critical gaze not missing a thing. “Is this him?”

“Pardon?”

His aunt shook her cane at the pictures spread carelessly over his desk, her charcoal gaze shrewd. “Is this the young man?”

Severus groaned mentally, having forgotten about the pictures he was sorting through when she arrived. “Is that who?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Severus, is this your boyfriend?”

“That is just…” Wait just a moment… “Boyfriend!”

“I’m old, Severus, not thick-headed. I do realize there are many different types of relationships in this world. The good Lord knows, you never liked any females.”

“I never liked anyone.”

She snorted, “True enough. Well, just the same, I’m pleased you managed to find someone who could like you. Now, it this him?”

What harm could it do? Besides if he admitted those pictures were not, in fact, his mystery boyfriend he’d only have to turn around and explain why he had the pictures spread over his desk. “Yes, that’s him.”

His aunt drew a monocle out of her hand bag, peering at the photos, moving the looking glass closer and farther as she squinted.

“He looks well formed, if a bit stunted in height.” Severus smirked at this comment, a roundabout way of calling Potter short. “And you might want to buy him some sort of comb for that mop of hair.” Severus’ smirk deepened. “He appears a little too bold for my tastes; you can see it in the eyes. What is his name?”

“His name?”

“I ask a question, you respond with an answer. That is how a conversation works, Severus.”

He figured it couldn’t hurt to tell to truth, after all, no one outside the wizard world had any clue who Harry Potter was. “Harry.”

“Harry, what?”

“Harry Potter.”

“Does he come from a good family?”

There was a short pause. “Yes, a very good family. Although his parents died in an accident when he was quite young.”

“Ah, a shame that.” She set the picture down and put the monocle back in her bag. “Now, do you have food in this dreary place? I should like to eat dinner around seven.”

The back door off the kitchen made an echoing bang as it opened, boots steps followed.

Severus felt a budding dread. Blast it! His door was still keyed to let in certain Order members. Gods, who could it be? Probably that flea-bitten mutt of a man coming back for something he had forgotten.

“Snape!” called a very, very familiar voice. “Snape! Dumbledore said you had the files on the Blacks! And I was hoping that –” Harry swung around the door frame into the living room, his surprise evident as he came face to face with Severus’ equally unsuspecting aunt. “Oh, sorry. I should have… Sorry.”

His cheeks were red from the cold winter air outside and his hair and the grey, wool long-jacket he had on were sprinkled with wet snowflakes.

“And you said he was working. Poor boy couldn’t stay away.” Clara remarked, circling Harry like a hawk. “A little younger than I expected, granted, but that is neither here nor there. I am sure we’ll get along famously.”

Potter was standing frozen in the doorway, like a deer caught in the headlights. But instead of a vehicle, it was his aunt bearing down on him. She had him by one arm and was dragging him into the center of the room.

“Severus, please, where are your manners? Introduce us properly.”

It should have ended there.

Severus should have taken this opportunity to set the story straight.

And he would have, too.

If it weren’t for that blasted cane.

“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding…” Severus began, stepping between the two. “I may have been a touch dishonest before when I said – Oww!” Severus broke off abruptly when the thin wooden cane was brought down with considerable force on the toes of his left foot.

“Dishonest, indeed!” Clara snorted knowingly.

“I apologize, Aunt. The lie was spur-of-the-moment.” Severus admitted, with discomfort. “There is no –”

“…No work he had to do. I can see that for myself, Severus. Shame on you for lying and saying he was out of town on business. You should know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn’t be dissuaded. No, I am staying right here until I get acquainted with your fiancé, even if I have to become a permanent houseguest.”

Severus went white. There was that distasteful word again. Houseguest. Aunt Clara, staying. Until she gets to know his ‘fiancé’. Oh, Merlin. He would do anything to return the peace to his home as soon as possible. Even if it meant letting his aunt get to know his ‘fiancé’.

“Excuse us. Just for a second.” Severus grabbed Harry by the elbow, pulling him into the cramped kitchen. Once the door swung shut behind them he uttered a short sound proofing spell.

“Snape, what’s…?”

“I told my aunt I was getting married.”

Harry just looked at him, as if to say, you’re telling me all this because…?

Severus gave him the patented, You dull-witted boy, haven’t you been paying attention? look in return. “She thinks I am going to marry you.”

“What? Why would she think that?”

“She saw some of your Ministry files on my desk and jumped to conclusions.” Severus explained concisely, if not entirely honestly.

“Well, you can just tell her …”

“I can’t tell her anything.” Severus gritted between his teeth.

“…You want me to tell her?” Harry finally asked, looking decidedly perplexed.

“I would rather you didn’t.”

“You want her to keep on believing we’re getting married?”

“Yes. Then she can leave me be. I would really… appreciate it, Potter.”

Severus could see Harry consider it silently. Really, Severus had never asked anything from Harry before. And the man get been a big part of the reason Harry and the Order had defeated Voldemort. And frankly, letting this old, muggle woman think they were engaged didn’t seem all that consequential. “Sure, whatever. Now, if I could just pick up those files on the Blacks…”

“You have to stay until Christmas.”

Harry head swung around, and for the first time since entering the house, he looked Severus directly in the eyes and held his gaze. “I have to what?”

“She’ll expect you to be here for her visit.”

“Can’t you just tell her I have to work or visit family or something?”

“Won’t work, she’ll just stay until you have time free.”

“I can’t just stay here, Snape. Some of us have bona fide lives to live.”

There was a soft tick in Severus’ jaw, but otherwise he let the insult slide unchecked. “I would be willing to compensate you for your time.”

“That’s great, but the Weasleys are expecting me for the hols. And I have no need for your money; you know full well I am quite wealthy in my own right.”

“I don’t have time for this, Potter. Let us cut to the chase, what will take to get you to stay here over the next week until Christmas?”

Harry was silent for a moment. “As I’m sure you are aware, Ginny Weasley is applying for a job in the Potions division of the Ministry’s health sector.”

Severus frowned at the thought of the youngest Weasley and her highly publicised romantic relationship with Potter. “And what does your little girlfriend have to do with anything? I assure you she will not have to find out about this dreadful farce.”

Harry did not have a girlfriend.

Just between you and me, Harry wasn’t overly interested in anything with breasts.

Harry shook his head. For a moment he thought of setting Snape straight about the status of his relationship with Ron’s sister, they were close friends and nothing more, but he decided it wasn’t overly relevant, and would no doubt only open to the door to Severus’ mockery. “The competition for the job is going to be incredibly tough.”

“And you think a glowing letter of recommendation from a prominent Potions Master will help her get the position.”

“Oh, I want more than just a letter for a week’s worth of my time. I want you to go in personally and pull some strings, talk to the people in charge. Ginny will never know about it, of course.”

“Never know she didn’t get the job based on her own merits, you mean.”

“Ginny could get the job without your help.” Harry defended the young women he thought of as his own little sister. “She is the most talented and hard-working candidate. I just want added insurance.”

“So manipulative, Potter. Now, is that anyway for a Gryffindor to behave? They may have to take your fancy red and gold tie away.”

“Do you want me to play along, or not?” Harry said quite simply.

“Fine. I’ll make sure Miss Weasley gets the job.”

“And I’ll spend the week here, but I’m still going to the Weasleys’ for Christmas day.”

“Fine.” Severus had made his way over to the side board where he kept several bottles of liquor. He poured himself a health amount of brandy. “You realize that, in front of my aunt, we have to pretend to be engaged.”

“I had figured that out, Snape.”

“Under the circumstances, you may wish to start using my given name.”

“Right, Severus.”

Severus had a sour look on his face, which remained as he took a long sip from his glass. “Do you want something to drink? You look…tense.”

"Scotch." Nothing like a little liquid courage to get him though this, Harry thought.

"I'd like you to relax, not pass out," Snape dryly announced, handing him a short stemmed wine glass, half-filled with white wine.

Harry narrowed his eyes, hating the fact his was being treated like a child. “Prig.”

“Twit.”

The prig and the twit return to the living room.

Aunt Clara is waiting for them with a smile on her face.

This is not good.

“Come sit beside me, dear.” Clara ordered as soon as Harry and Severus stepped into the room. The old woman shifted over on the hard, brown sofa, looking pointedly at Harry. “Did you two get what ever it was sorted out?”

“Yes, Madame.” Harry answered politely.

“Pfft, call me Clara, please. We are to be family after all.”

“Right. Clara. That’s a very pretty name. Original. Not that I’ve never heard that name before. I have. It’s…pretty.” Harry babbled uncomfortably, cursing the fact that being around Severus could still manage to set him on edge. Not to mention the fact he was suddenly meeting this aunt, being judged as a potential in-law. He hadn’t known Snape even had an aunt. He had never given much thought to Severus’ family, besides what little he knew about Snape’s half-blood parentage. He felt as if he had been thrown in the deep end and he hadn’t quite gotten his footing yet.

Clara turned to Severus, frowning with her lips severely pinched. “He’s a prattler, Severus, I never thought you would fall for someone who prattles.”

“He –” Severus began to make an excuse.

“I don’t prattle.” Harry said firmly, getting a hold of himself. “You just caught me off guard, I’m afraid; Severus didn’t tell me he was having family over.”

“Yes, I do not usually show up unannounced like this.” Clara sighed forlornly. “But I’m afraid Severus has little time for his poor aunt, anymore. So I must make an effort to come to him.”

Severus snorted. “I make time for you whenever you summon me in the summer months, Aunt.”

Clara turned to Harry, patting one his hands, with a long-suffering expression on her face. “Last summer he did not come until I took mattered into my own hands and blackmailed him into it.”

Harry looked unconvinced that Severus Snape could be forced into doing anything against his will. “You blackmailed him, Madame?”

“Clara, please.” Severus’ aunt corrected. “And, yes, I did.”

Severus scoffed, arching an eyebrow, pinning his Aunt under his dark, black gaze.

“Very well!” Clara relented, haughtily looking back at Severus. “If not blackmail, a healthy dose of guilt.” Clara turned back to Harry. “I might have told him I was under the weather.”

“Might have?” Severus growled.

“Did.”

“If I remember correctly,” Severus informed her, “you mentioned something about your deathbed and the scarlet fever in your letter.”

“Pfft. It did the trick, did it not? Severus, why don’t you run and fetch some tea, while Harry and I get acquainted?”

“Is it safe to leave you two alone?”

Harry shot him a look. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I am more worried about she is going to do to you.”

“Nonsense. My own nephew, so distrustful of me.” Clara paused to take a breath and then looked down at Harry’s hand which as still trapped under her own. “Where is your ring?”

“My what?” Harry asked distractedly.

Clara nodded down to Harry’s hand. “Your engagement ring, young man. Surely you have one.” Her voice held the faintest hint of suspicion.

Harry turned back over his shoulder to look a Severus with an absolutely wicked smirk. He arched one dark eyebrow and questioned, “Yes. Where is my ring…Darling?”

“I’m sure, I don’t know, Sweety.” Severus answered through clenched teeth. “Where did you last take it off?”

“I can’t be certain.” Harry responded with a rueful shrug and smiled innocently at Clara. Severus grimaced; the boy was being coy, doing everything but bat his eyelashes, and his perceptive, disconcertingly sharp aunt seemed to be buying it. “I seem to be losing it all the time. It’s almost as if it’s off my finger more often than it is on.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Harry dear, I’m forever misplacing my cane. But it always turns up. I’m sure our Severus will find it for you. Won’t you, dear?”

“I will keep an eye out for it.” Severus promised, heading into the kitchen to put on some tea.

“So,” Clara began, angling herself towards the younger man, “how did you and my nephew meet?”

“Oh,” Harry hedged, “How much of it have you heard from Severus?”

“Nothing much at all. Only that you meet last winter. You know how closed mouth he is about his affairs, so secretive.”

“Well, we first met at school.”

“You attended the same boarding school Severus teaches at?” Clara questioned with disapproval.

She probably thinks him some sort of pedophile now, good work, Harry. “Well, I did. But Sn…Severus and I didn’t have any sort of relationship until after I graduated. I stayed on to do some work for the headmaster.”

“What sort of work?”

Saving the world. “Security stuff.”

“And do you still work there?”

“No, I’m in… law enforcement now.” Part of an elite group of Ministry agents.

“So?”

“So…?”

“You became involved with my nephew when…?” Clara prompted.

“Well…” Harry stalled, forcing a bright smile…Hmm…Clara had said they meet during the winter, what was a good winter boy-meets-boy tale? “Ah…Funny story really… We were caught in a snowstorm and umm…”

Severus came back though the door holding a tea pot and cups in one hand. “Tea’s ready. And I found your ring.” Severus laid the tea service down on the table and then pulled an unadorned gold ring from his pocket and tossed into Harry’s lap. “It was by the sink; you must have taken it off to wash up this morning.”

“Must have.” Harry confirmed, trying to hide his amusement, fishing the ring off the couch.

“Severus!” Clara gasped. She stomped her cane on the ground and then rebuked. “Put the ring on him properly. Goodness you’d think you were raised by wolves. I’m shocked he agreed to have you in the first place if you behaved thusly. Imagine, throwing the ring at him from the across the room. Pfft.”

Harry thought Snape was having visions of throwing something else across the room in a fit…or someone. A vein pulsed in his forehead, and his steps were stiff as he walked over to the sofa and snatched the ring from the palm of Harry’s hand. He grabbed Harry’s other hand and pushed the ring on the younger man’s ring finger in one rough motion; grinding the cold medal into the base of his finger for good measure. He then looked up his aunt. “Better.”

Clara nodded regally. “Indeed.”

“I was just telling your aunt about how we met.” Harry interrupted. “Last winter. You know, that day we were caught in that snowstorm…”

“Right, we got completely lost, I’m afraid. Almost lost a few fingers…”

“This is your funny story?” Clara interrupted, turning to Harry, aghast.

“Well…we did make it out alive, in the end. With all our fingers…ha…ha?”

“You have a bizarre sense of humour, Harry.”

“Well…now that story time is over, shall I pour the tea?” Severus asked, changing the subject with all due haste.

“I’d much rather go to my room and freshen up before dinner.” Clara announced, rising from the sofa.

“But, you asked for tea.” Severus gritted out, “I made the tea.”

“Well, you and Harry may sit down and enjoy it together, Severus.” Clara instructed then paused thoughtfully. “I do hope I’m not putting you out, Harry, this old house only has that one extra bedroom, you must have it when you stay with Severus.”

“I…well, no…you’re not…” Harry looked frantically over at Severus. “I’m staying in the…”

“Harry does stay in the guest room, Aunt Clara, but his things are minimal and can be moved up to the attic room during your stay.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose like that on a near stranger, kicking him out of his room for the attic.”

“Really, Harry doesn’t mind. Do you, Harry?”

“I… No, not at all.”

“No, I absolutely refused to let him move into that dusty, old attic room.” Clara stated adamantly. “No, Harry can move into your room, Severus. You can take the attic.”

Severus watched his aunt carry her bag upstairs, and Harry watched Severus seethe as he watched his aunt carry her bag upstairs. When she was out of sight, Severus turned away, catching the look on Harry’s face.

“I’m glad to see one of us is enjoying this.”

“I do hope you enjoy the attic, Severus, dear.”

“I’m going to go start on dinner. Having a muggle around is really going increase the amount of work around here. I don’t suppose you know how to cook anything without magic?”

Harry, in fact, did know how to cook in the muggle fashion, his Uncle had made sure of it, giving him the chore at an early age. But what Severus didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and Harry wasn’t about to pass up the chance to possibly see Severus in an apron, so he just gave the older man a look of incredulity.

Severus sighed, put out. “I thought as much.”

It took Clara only ten minutes to settle in.

Two minutes to set her bags down and eight minutes to snoop.

When she returned down stairs she walked right past Harry in the living room to confront Severus in the kitchen. “There were none of Harry’s things in the guest room. Nothing.” When Severus gave her a fierce frown she defended haughtily, “I wasn’t trying to search other people’s private belongings, Severus, so don’t give me that look. You know how curious I am, I just wanted a peek.”

Harry, who had followed her in from the other room, supplied quickly. “When Severus told me you were coming I moved all my stuff, cleaned everything away for you.”

“Funny, Severus didn’t know I was coming.” Clara’s cane hit the ground with a thump – never a good sign. “Don’t try to pull one over on me, young man. I know what you’re up to, the both of you. Shame on you both for lying to an old woman.”

Severus shifted uncomfortably; recognising it was probably past time to come clean. “You’re absolutely right Aunt, Harry isn’t staying in the guest rooms. He -”

“He stays in the master bedroom with you.” Aunt Clara finished. “Do not fret over it; I guessed as much when Harry hesitated when I asked if he occupied the guest room. I realise you did not want to offend my sensibilities. But, I assure you, I am very modern in my thinking, and even though you do not have the benefit of a marriage ceremony as of yet, you are both adults and free to make your own choices.”

“Harry stays in my room…?” Severus echoed.

“Yes. In fact,” Clara began, “I insist he stays right where he is. No reason for him to move just because I have come to visit.”

“No!” Harry and Severus snapped at the same time.

Clara looked taken aback.

“I mean, I’m sure Sn…Severus wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing his room with me when he has family over.” Harry explained.

Severus did not feeling comfortable

sharing the same room with Harry, ever.

“Dear Lord, Severus, are your cheeks turning pink?” Clara barked, looking quizzically at her nephew.

“I don’t know.” Severus growled, “I can’t very well see my own cheeks, now can it?”

“They are pink.” Clara confirmed. “I do not believe I ever seen you blush before, Severus.”

“If you say so.” Severus replied shortly, turning back to the stove where he had several pots on the go.

“Why are you blushing? Simply because I mentioned you and Harry sleeping together? Surely you are of an age when the passing mention of sexual relations does not make you blush.”

“I am not blushing. It’s simply warm in here.”

“It does not feel too warm to me.” Clara insisted, thumping her cane to drive her observation home. “Harry, do you find it too warm in here?

“No, not too warm.”

Severus ground his teeth. “Well, I am closer to the stove.”

“Pfft. I can’t feel any heat off the stove.”

“Harry!”

“Yes?”

“Set the table, we’re ready to eat.”

Both Harry and Clara were clever enough to accept the very obvious change in subject.

Short while later the three were finished dinner, sitting around the table, talking, drinking wine, and waiting for dessert. Harry, who had never had a normal life to speak of, was almost enjoying his role as muggle fiancé. It wasn’t often he got to speak to someone who did not know his whole life story and so he was immersing himself in the novel experience, fashioning his perfect life and perfect back story.

“…and so that is why mum and dad decided to take a trip up to the coast to Cardiff this Christmas.”

This was the end of Harry’s third story about his parents. He hadn’t yet noticed Clara’s dismayed expression.

Aunt Clara’s expression was justified.

After all, you may recall, she had already been told Harry’s family was gone.

A lot farther away than Whales.

“We could use more wine, don’t you think?” Harry said, his story finished.

“Not for me, but you boys go right ahead.”

Severus began to rise from his seat, Harry stopped him, “No, I’ll get it, in the other room, right?”

“I’ll be right in to help you pick one.” Severus said, allowing Harry to precede him out of the room.

A minute of two later, Severus entered the living room/library/study to find Harry waiting for him.

The moment the door shut, Harry was in front of him looking expectant, “So, it’s going pretty well in there. Don’t you think?”

“Indeed.” Severus agreed, moving around Harry to get into the small storage he had under the stairs, grabbing another bottle of wine. “Although, you may wish to lay off the stories about your family. I told my aunt previously that they were deceased.”

“What! She can’t believe that! Severus, I just went into a long tale about how they were travelling the English countryside, and your aunt listened to whole thing without saying a thing.”

“She thinks you are just a touch daft.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Harry cringed, mortified.

“Well, it’s not entirely too bad - considering at first she though you were barking mad. I just had to convince her that you had unresolved issues surrounding the lost of your family, that the lying about them was uncontrollable and that you were seeing someone about the problem. Now, she mostly feels sorry for you.”

“You’re enjoying this.” Harry accused him.

“Bite your tongue. I most certainly am not.”

“Fine, not this situation, but you’re enjoying the fact I just humiliated myself.”

“Maybe just a little.” Severus smirked and turned around, heading back into the kitchen.

Harry glared at his retreating back.

Severus should have been worried about the repercussions of baiting a very powerful, young wizard.

But in his defence, Harry was supposed to be the noble one, above urges like revenge.

So he didn’t worry about it.

That would be a mistake.

At first it wasn’t that obvious. The lid of the pepper shaker came off, and a soft gust of air blew the spice into his nose triggering a sneezing fit. A short while after that when the dessert was served, he found he could keep a hold of his utensil; it simply slipped though his fingers, clattering loudly on the table and splattering cake everywhere. Severus began to suspect at this point. And that suspicion was later confirmed when he lifted his water glass to his mouth – only find it pour itself straight down the front of his chin and onto his lap.

“Sev, watch what you’re doing!” Harry cried with alarm.

“Severus, I have never seen you act so clumsily.” Clara admonished.

Water soaking into his pants, Severus shot a disgruntled look at Harry, knowing perfectly well what had happened. Cursing the fact he himself had had a lot to do with teach the boy wandless magic.

“Why are you looking at the boy like that Severus? Surely you can’t be thinking this is somehow his fault? My goodness, he’s all the way on the other side of the table.”

Severus saw the corners of Harry’s lips turn up before the younger man lifted his napkin to dap at his mouth, hiding his bemusement. Harry hardly had time to enjoy the victory before he found himself lying flat on his back on the floor amidst the rubble of his chair. He heard Severus snort softly and reacted immediately, returning the favour. Severus made a short, indistinguishable sound as the legs of his chair gave way as well, sending him sprawling gracelessly onto the floor across from Harry. Clara, rightfully cautious, sprang out of her chair, looking down in confusion as both men glared at each under the table, neither making a move to get up.

“I do hope no one is injured…”

“Fine.” Both men growled at the same time, climbing to their feet.

“Well, perhaps I will retire to the other room, while you two clean up. I trust the chairs there are a touch more solid…”

Deciding childish pranks were probably beneath them,

our hero and Harry opted for an uneasy truce.

The rest of the evening went off without incident.

Although it should be noted Clara spent it sitting very gingerly on the edge of her seat, just in case.

“Remind me again what we are going to do?” Harry asked later that night. Under Clara’s watchful eye they had both said their good-nights and retired to Severus’ bedroom, where they both stood now, ill at ease and tense, forced to endure each other’s close company in the small room.

“We just have to wait a few minutes until my Aunt settles in for the night and then you can sneak up to the attic room and to sleep. There is a cot in there.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“It’s not like I’m enjoying this any more than you are, Potter.”

Harry smirked, leaning against the bookcase-lined wall. There were no chairs in Severus’ bedroom and he wasn’t about to risk life and limb by presuming to sit on Severus’ bed. “Then why don’t you call it off? Tell your aunt the truth.”

“Because this is the most efficient way to get her out of my hair.”

“I think that’s a lie.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Um-hmm.” Harry pushed himself off the wall, standing straight. “You, Severus, despite your best efforts, still care about what some people think of you.”

“Preposterous!”

“It’s true.” Harry drawled, enjoying putting Snape on the spot, “You want to your aunt to think you have a fiancé because you want her to think that you can fit in somewhere, that you’re not all alone in the world. Because, if she knew how really, truly alone you were, it would devastate her.”

Severus’ eyes were as cold as steel. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ha!” Harry snorted softly, a self-deprecating smile spreading over his face. “If anything, I know about being alone. And, after all these years, knowing you for over half my life, spending the last few months in and out of your home with the other Order members, being in and out of your mind on more one occasion… well, I’ve picked up a few things.”

“You think you know me?” Severus scoffed, as if the idea was utterly absurd.

“I think I know you better than most.” Harry answered, his voice low and frank, “For instance, I know that thought alone scares the shit out of you.”

Severus turned around facing out the small window, his anger palpable. “She’s probably asleep. Go up to the attic now.”

Harry walked over to the door, and with one last sharp look at Severus’ back, he turned the doorknob and quietly snuck into the hall.

He turned and pulled the door close with care, watchful to avoid letting the latch spring shut with a noticeable click in case Severus’ aunt was alerted to their machinations.

He slowly turned around and found himself looking directly at Clara. The older woman had dragged a chair out into the hall from the guest bedroom and was seating in it comfortably.

If it wasn’t for his training, Harry would have cried out in surprise. As is, he merely lowered his voice and asked, “What are you doing out here?”

“I don’t sleep much. At night I like to catch up on my knitting.” She waved a bag in his direction. Several long knitting needles stuck out of it, and the ends of different coloured wool.

“Right here?”

“Of course, right here. It is where my favourite painting in the house is displayed. Ship Lost At Sea.” She nodded over Harry’s shoulder. “Right there. It used to belong to my grandparents, Severus’ great-grandparents. I’ve enjoyed it since I was a child, it’s all I have left of them, really.”

Harry turned to see what she was looking at. She had set alight one of the lanterns perched on the wall next to the bedroom door. It illuminated a truly hideous oil painting of what looked to Harry like an old boot in a tornado.

“You’re going to just sit here. With the painting.”

Clara nodded briskly. “Probably all night.”

“All night?” Harry asked, eyes widening with growing disbelief. It was beginning to seem less and less likely he would be able to get away from Severus.

“All night,” she confirmed with a pleasant smile. “Right here. Run along now.” She added the last statement when Harry continued to stand in the hallway staring at her blankly.

Harry turned away and moved to open the door to return to Snape’s room.

“Harry, dear?”

“Yes?”

“Didn’t you come out here for something?”

“Right…I needed to use the washroom.” Harry improvised.

Clara looked at his hand on the door knob. “And you don’t any longer?”

Harry felt his face grow hot. “Right…I’ll just go…do that.” He moved away from the door, taking a step down the hall in the direction he hoped he remembered correctly led to the bathroom.

“Harry?”

He stopped again.

“Have you forgotten Severus has a washroom off his room?”

“Right, of course.” Harry spun around once more and opened the bedroom door.

“Potter, what are…?” Severus groused seeing the boy reappear in the doorway.

“Good-night, Clara!” Harry said loudly to cut the other man off. “See you in the morning.”

“Good-night, Harry.” Then she raised her voice to be heard in the other room, “Good-night, Severus!”

Harry closed the door after he stepped into the bedroom. Severus’ eyes were wide and a little bit frantic. “What is she doing out there?”

“She is sitting and knitting out there. All night.”

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s evil!” Harry said with awe and no malicious. “Brilliant and evil.”

Severus just looks at him, eyes squinted and accusing.

“Do not give me that look.” Harry whispered so they weren’t over heard. “She is your aunt. Can I just apparate into the other room?”

Severus shook his head. “There are protective spells on the house to make sure no one can apparate in or out. You’ll just have to spend the night here.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Harry sighed.

“Yes, I am quite in raptures about it, too, you twit.” Snape retorted in hush tones. He stalked over to his bed, pulling back the covers. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

Harry’s arms crossed over his chest. “I’m certainly not getting in that bed with you.”

“I’m certainly not going to let you in this bed with me.” Severus snapped, throwing a spare pillow at Harry head. “There’s plenty of room for you on the floor.”

“Fuck it.” Harry grumbled looking down at the dusty, rug covered floor.

Severus climbed into his bed, dragging the sheets over himself. “I’m sure exactly what ‘it’ you are speaking of, but I assure you I have no intention of fucking anythi – What are doing?”

“W’t dusit uk ike?” Harry’s answer was muffled through the shirt he was currently pulling over his head. Tossing the shirt in a bundle in the corner, he began unsnapping the fly of his pants.

“Again, what are you doing?” Snape bellowed, or rather it would have been at the bellow volume if his aunt wasn’t sitting right outside the door.

“I find it uncomfortable to sleep fully dressed.” Harry replied, shucking his pants and kicking then into the corner as well. “Tomorrow I’m going to have to sneak out and retrieve some of my own clothes, and didn’t exactly bring anything with me when I came here.”

“Don’t just leave your clothes lying on my floor in a heap! Hang them up and out of the way, and while you’re in the closet you might as well borrow something to sleep in.”

Harry rolled his eyes but stooped and picked up his clothes, taking them over to Snape’s wardrobe. “Worried about my modesty, Snape?”

“Stay practically naked if you wish, I certainly don’t care. Although it is the middle of winter and there’s a bit of a draft on the floor, and I’d hate for you to freeze any important bits off.”

Harry scoffed, hanging his shirt and pants on an empty hook inside the door to Snape’s wardrobe. He glanced over his shoulder, “Anything in particular I can or can’t borrow?”

“I don’t care; pick anything from the hangers at the back.”

Harry spotted a comfortable looking button up shirt, black of course, and pulled it out. He decided against finding bottoms, his boxers would cover all the important bits Severus alluded to before. He slid into the shirt pushing back the sleeves so he could button it up. It smelled a little of soap and sandalwood. Harry tugged the collar towards his face, softly inhaling the appealing scent.

“It’s clean.” Severus snapped, impatiently and even a little defensively, watching Harry lift the collar and sniff it. “I do wash my clothes.”

“I wasn’t…” Harry stopped himself mid-explanation, “Forget it. Good-night, Snape.”

“Nox.”

The lights extinguished, leaving Harry standing in the dark. He sighed heavily and then lowered himself onto the floor, pulling the pillow under his head. He rolled from one side to another, trying to get comfortable.

“Will you stop squirming?” Severus hissed after a moment.

“Easy for you to say in your comfortable bed.”

A bundle of blankets hit him in the dark. “Whiny prat.”

“Inhuman git.”

Needless to say, there was not much sleep to be had that night.

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