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Forever then some
Author of 9 Stories |
Mistletoe07
Final chapter! I hope everyone enjoys it, I’m afraid it was a little rushed, because I wanted to get it out in time for Christmas. I will probably be making minor changes and more editing in the near future, I’m not entirely sure I liked the way it turned out!
Happy Holiday’s everyone!
“Harry! Harry Potter! Stop this instant.”
Harry whirled around in surprise to see Clara, cane in hand, briskly making her way up the street, long coat and scarf hastily wrapped over her thin body.
“Clara? What are you doing out here?-!” Harry cried out in concern, hurrying back down the street towards her. “It’s freezing out, and icy! Go back to the house.”
“I intend to go right back to the house.” Clara scoffed. “You will, of course, go with me.”
Harry sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry, Clara, but I’m not going back right now.”
“Of course you are.” Clara stated as if he were an imbecile. “It’s Christmas.”
Harry winced. “I am sorry, Clara. But I’m not going to be here for Christmas.”
“Nonsense, where else would you be?” Clara pounded her cane to the ground, sending slushy snow splattering over their legs.
“The Weasleys invited me over to their house. I accepted long before I knew you were visiting Severus.” Harry told the half-truth easily.
“You were just going to leave Severus here alone for Christmas?” Clara asked in a tone intended to invoke guilt.
“Well…”Harry hedged and then sighed in defeat. “Yes.”
“Severus has told me everything.”
Harry was momentarily caught off guard, he recovered quickly. “Everything?”
“Well, I rather doubt it was everything. But I know you are not his fiancé.”
“I felt poorly lying to you.” Harry admitted.
“As well you should have.” Clara stated primly. “But what is done is done. The only thing to do now is move forward, which involves going back to the house and working through your problems with Severus.”
Harry shook his head, firmly. “I am sorry, Clara, I truly am. But Severus and I… Well, our problems are a little more complicated than I believe you perceive. It would take a miracle to work through them. For every step forward relationship takes, we seem to take three steps back.”
“If you can’t expect a miracle at Christmas time, when can you?” Clara challenged. “I know my nephew feels very strongly for you.”
“Well, we have never had a problem feeling strong emotions towards each other. It is just that, more often than not, those strong emotions are of an agitated nature.”
“So, you are just going to run away?” Clara asked disdainfully.
“Please try to understand, Clara.”
“I understand you are not willing to put effort into seducing my nephew, Harry Potter.”
Now that cut to the quick. “Clara!”
“Do not ‘Clara’ me! Do you, or do you not, like my nephew?”
“Sometimes I do not like him one bit.” Harry bite out. At Clara’s impatient look, he allowed grudgingly, “But every once in a while…He seems to fit.”
“And do his kisses make your toes curl?”
“I would have no idea.” Harry growled, though frankly, judging by the effect Severus had on his body in general, it did not seem out of the question.
“You have never kissed?” Clara questioned, dubiously. She had, you may remember, seen them break embraces when she entered rooms or made her presence known, but, as she thought back on it, she had never actually seen their lips meet.
“This is not a conversation I am going to in the middle of the street, and certainly not with Severus’ aunt.” Harry closed the subject stubbornly. “Now you should go back to Spinner’s End, and I am going to go home.”
“If you must.” Clara sighed deeply, giving up surprisingly – and suspiciously – quickly.
Harry turned away to continue walking in the opposite direction, but he found he could not take a step. A small voice was cursing a blue streak in his mind, demanding he go back with Clara, and confront Severus again. Put all their cards on the table for once. It was Christmas time, the persistent voice added, you heard the woman, a time for miracles.
As it happened, Harry never had a chance to make up his mind. A thin sheet of ice made it for him.
“Awwwwk!”
Harry turned instantly upon hearing the high pitched shriek.
His heart lodged in his throat when he saw Clara sprawled on the ground, cane imbedded in the snow bank nearby. “Clara!” He was at her side immediately. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
Clara moaned lightly, “My ankle! Oh, dear, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Harry gently inspected both ankles, wincing when he heard her swift and pained intake of breath when he cradled her left foot. “Ohhh…”
“I don’t think it is broken, Clara.” Harry stripped off his coat, wrapping it tightly over Clara’s shoulders for added warmth. He looked almost hopeful for a moment. “I don’t suppose you think you can walk back to the house yourself? It’s only a block or two.”
“I don’t think I can, Harry dear, it hurts like the dickens.” She coughed a few times then, as if that might prove her claim of a turned ankle.
“I could carry you back.” Harry said immediately, tone clearly hesitant. Going back meant facing Severus again, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet.
“Oh no…” Clara insisted dramatically, “You go on your way. Leave me here on the sidewalk, I am sure I will be able to hobble home once the swelling goes down a little. I have my cane after all.”
Harry stooped and lifted her tall thin body into his arms, careful not to jar her foot. “Don’t be ridiculous, I am not leaving you lying on the sidewalk.”
Which, of course, was something Clara had been wagering on along.
Severus was chagrined to find himself descending the stairs two at a time upon hearing voices in the kitchen. He halted briefly outside the door to the kitchen, straightening his clothes and sweeping his fine black hair back into place, before pushing the door open, - just to make Harry did not suspect his impatience.
Harry stood right inside.
He was so damned happy to see the younger man he frowned. His frown deepened discernibly when he spied his aunt perched on the kitchen table, noticeably dishevelled.
“What happened?” he demanded sharply.
“Calm yourself, Severus, dear. I simply took a tumble on the ice.” Clara waved her hand dismissively. “Harry helped me back to the house.”
Severus swept over to the side of the table, looking his aunt over in detail. “Are you all right?” He immediately turned to Harry and demanded, “Is she all right?”
Harry, in turn, levelled his gaze on Clara, “Are you all right?”
Instead of answering, Clara turned to Severus and countered, “Are you all right?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A rather pertinent one.” Clara said in a no nonsense tone. “You look on the verge of a fit.”
“I am not a child given to fits of temper.” Severus ground out, in the perfect, though grown, image of a boy on the brink of a tantrum. “Now what happened?”
“I’m afraid I took a spill on the icy sidewalk. Harry kindly carried me home, my ankle is quite sprained.”
Severus look was mistrustfully. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so.”
Nephew and aunt stared at each other challengingly.
“Should we try to get to the doctor?” Harry interrupted. “Or I could see if I could find someone what would be able to come here…”
Severus arched an eyebrow at his aunt. “Yes, Aunt Clara, would you like to see a doctor, so that he can take a look at your ankle?”
Clara firmed her lips together firmly. “That is probably a very wise idea, Harry.”
Severus waited for the ‘but’.
“…But it is Christmas Eve everyone would be at home with their families.”
Severus commented dryly, “I do believe hospitals and the like stay open all the time, including holidays.”
“I do not want to put anyone out, Severus. If you would just carry me to my room for a little rest...”
“I would love to, Aunt, but I am afraid that would put me out. And I know that is something you do not want.”
“Oh for Mer…Goodness sake, Severus. Take your Aunt up to her room. Is there anything I can get for you, Clara?”
“Not at the moment, I will think of something later though, I am sure.”
“I am sure as well.” Severus grumbled, lifting his aunt into his arms and uncouthly carrying her out of the kitchen towards the stairs.
XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX
Severus retrained himself from dropping his aunt on the bed, and instead laid her down gingerly. “You fell did you?”
“Yes.”
“It was not some wild scheme to get Harry to come back.”
“No! You are so suspicious, Severus.”
Severus snorted, “Fine, you rest. I will see if I can find a cold press for your ankle.”
“Wait! We must talk about what we are going to do about Harry.”
“I thought this accident was not for Potter’s benefit.”
“Well, no… it is as not as though I planned to fall, but I did nonetheless, and Harry is back nonetheless. We must take advantage of the situation. This gives you the chance to bury the hatchet. You two have been snapping at each other for weeks.”
“You have only been seven days.” Severus pointed out.
“Well, it has felt like weeks.”
Severus couldn’t have agreed more.
“You will be pleased to know, I have some up with a plan.”
Pleased certainly did not begin to describe what Severus was feeling. He was unsettled. The old woman had a look in her eyes. A frightening look.
“We can not talk now, Aunt. You need to rest.”
“What I am supposed to do in bed? Severus, I insist you stay and keep me company. If you do not want to discuss Harry at this time, perhaps you can read to me again.”
Severus inched towards the door.
“I believe Victoria is currently hanging off a building edge.”
“It was a cliff edge last we left her.”
“Well yes, she recovered sufficient to run off another edge. Odd girl, constantly hanging off things.”
“How thrilling. But you really must rest.” Severus moved into the doorway, feeling freedom close at hand.
“Severus! Severus Snape, come back here this minute!”
Snape ignored her and all but fled from the room.
If running away from an injured, bed-ridden, old woman made Severus a coward…
Well, so be it.
Unfortunately, his exit was blocked by a certain dark-haired demon.
“You are still here.” Severus remarked dryly, taking a step back.
“So it would seem.”
“Well, I have control of the situation now. You can go back to going wherever it was you were off to.”
“I should stick around to make sure Clara is taken care off.”
“I will take care of my aunt.”
“I am staying.” Harry insisted.
“You are no longer welcome.” Severus countered grumpily.
“Both of you get out of here. I require a spot of tea, your yelling is adding to the terrible head ache the fall has given me.”
“Did you hit your head on the ice?” Severus looked disapprovingly at them both. “Potter neglected to mention that part!”
“No. I twisted my ankle, my head did not touch the ice. But pain travels up….any fool could tell you that.”
Harry leaned around Severus to look at Clara. “Could I get you something for the pain?”
“Just go with Severus to get that tea… and try not to be complete idiots.” Clara ordered again. “Get some for yourselves, as well. My grandmother always said a good cup of tea could solve any problem.”
Her grandmother had been wrong.
But to be fair, her dear grandmother had never seen what damage two hot-tempered wizards and a flying teapot could do.
“So, you are staying another night?” Severus remarked off-handily when they reached the kitchen. He felt an unfamiliar thread of excitement run through his spine at the thought of Harry being under his roof another night.
“Yes. I won’t miss anything important at the Weasleys’ if I arrive late. Speaking of which, I fire-called Hermione while you took your aunt to bed. I know she said she did not want to see a doctor, but I think it might be best, and Hermione passed the medical exams top of her class.”
“Why?”
“Because I think someone with medical training should check Clara over.”
“Not that. Why are you staying another night?”
“Not for you, if that is what you are asking. I am staying for Clara. She wants me here for Christmas. And she deserves to have what she wants for the holiday.”
“And I don’t.” It was a statement not a question.
“And you don’t.” Harry shook his head willfully. “You deserve…well I’m not entirely sure what. Something much more unpleasant.”
“Where were you going?” Severus asked the question that had been bothering him for some time now. He went on to clarify, “When you left here before.”
“Does it matter?”
“No. I assure you there is nothing that could persuade me to be the least bit interested in where you spend your time.” And then, in the same breath, “Do you have a home?”
“I have a place I stay.”
“Where is it?”
“None of your business.”
“Does someone know where it is?”
“I do, obviously.” Harry stated stubbornly.
“Someone else? One of the Order members. In case of emergencies.”
“In case of emergencies, I can damn well take care of myself.”
“Just give me the directions.”
“Why?”
“I can inspect your security, assess the wards, supplement them. What types of wards do you have now? You’ll need several different types. Something woven into the walls of the structure, and some sort of alarm system for the area around that property underground and air of course, and something to detect dark magic, naturally. Parabule Occous perhaps – that is what I have here. I will consult several additional texts.”
“Severus. Stop it. I have it covered.”
“Do you?” Severus questioned skeptically.
“Sure, I have a little chain locking mechanism, and a peephole on the front door, so I can look out in case evil knocks.”
“That is not the least bit humourous, Potter.”
“Careful Snape, someone might get the idea you care.”
Severus snorted. “Forgive me if I don’t want to see all my hard work be for not.”
“Your hard work?”
“Keeping your accursed self alive these past few years.”
“I have taken care of it.”
“I see.”
“Whenever you say ‘I see’ in that particular tone, I know what you are really saying is ‘I disapprove’.”
“I have never found much to approve of where you are concerned.”
“You have not had many complaints recently.” Harry remarked snidely. “In fact, on several occasions, I felt your approval quite distinctly.”
“Rest assured any sentiments I felt towards you of a positive nature were only temporarily. Something to do with the proximity of your mouth to my person.”
Harry glared mutinously. Severus knew he should not have gone there, but he was powerless to stop himself from trying to get a rise out of Harry whenever possible. Much like a young boy pushing the girl he likes down on the playground. Any of Harry’s attention was better that none.
“I must say I had not expected to Golden Boy to be quite so loose with his affections. Ah, you’re flushing.” Severus snorted, knowing he should just shut his mouth, but unable to. “Tell me is it out of shame from your wanton behaviour or desire to try it again? I would be amenable to trying it one more time before sending you off tomorrow. After all, we are unlikely to ever cross paths again, so there is nothing to loose by indulging yourself.”
“Bastard.”
“Idiot-boy.”
“Apologise.” Harry demanded.
“Is it a general apology you want or one directed at a particular event?”
“There are probably too many things for you to apologise separately.” Harry snapped, flags of angry darken on his cheeks. “Why don’t you pick a specific one? Say for misjudging me. You have made incorrect and uncalled for assumptions about me almost constantly since the first time you met me.”
Severus bristled dangerous. “I will not deny that charge. You, however, are guilty of the same.”
He had a point there. A rather large one, if one wanted to be fair about it, which Harry didn’t. Not just then. “Perhaps, but I am not the cynical, callous idiot who thought I was interested in some illicit, emotionless fuck.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” Severus fumed. “I certainly had no intention of fucking you.”
It was then that the teapot began to rattle on the counter.
XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX
Eight minutes later,
Hermione apparates to the back door and lifts her hand to knock.
Hermione is completely unprepared for what awaits her inside.
Standing toe-to-toe and staring at each other mutinously, Severus and Harry paid little attention to the firm knocking at the door, nor did they break their stares when Hermione stepped through the door and entered the kitchen.
“Harry? Professor?” Hermione took in the scene, perplexed. “What happened? Is that…tea? All over everything? Merlin…did that teapot…explode?”
“He did it!” Both men snapped at the same time, weak tea dripping off every surface of the kitchen including their clothes and skin.
“You both could have been injured.” Hermione lectured sternly. As it was, besides a small cut made from a flying shard of teapot under Harry’s right eye, they both looked unharmed, if a little wet. When they both ignored her, Hermione tried a different tack. “Harry said there was an emergency, your aunt is unwell?”
That gained her Severus’ full attention. “Yes, of course, thank you for coming on such short notice. Aunt Clara refused to go see a muggle doctor, and Harry mentioned that you had recently completely your mediwitch exams. I thought you might check on her, without letting her know what you are doing, of course.”
“What happened?”
“Potter nearly had her ankle broken.”
“I did not such thing.” Harry growled before turning to Hermione and explained more fully. “Clara had fell on the ice; I think her ankle might be badly sprained, and afterwards she was wheezing, short of breath.”
“I will show you up to here room.” Severus decreed.
“I’ll go, too.” Harry immediately offered.
“No.” Hermione snapped quickly. “Both of you will stay down here, clean up and finish whatever argument you were having. The last thing I suspect Ms. Snape needs now is you two shouting over her and exploring every breakable thing in her room. I know from Order meetings where the guest bedroom is. I will show myself up.”
As the door between the kitchen and the livingroom/study/library swung closed behind her, Hermione could hear Harry and Snape barraging each other with harsh tones. She could not make much out except, ‘fool’, ‘untrusting’, ‘stubborn ass’, and a litany of curses.
XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX
Hermione knock softly at the guest room door before poking her head inside. Clara took stock of the frizzy haired young woman in the doorway. “Hermione Weasley wasn’t it?”
“Right. I am pleased you remembered, Ms. Snape.”
“Of course I remembered, I met you not a full day ago. I am old, not senile.”
“Right, of course, I did not mean to imply that…”
“You have an intelligent look about you, gel.” Clara appraised, sizing Hermione up. “Clearly a girl who has relied more on her good sense than her looks. No, you’re not an overly pretty young woman.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped open, affronted.
“Close your mouth, it was not an insult. ‘Tis better to be sharp and a little plain than an empty-headed beauty. They are down there fighting aren’t they?” Clara asked, changing the subject.
“Excuse me?”
“My nephew and Harry. Were they exchanging words when you came in?”
Hermione could vividly recall the tea, the teapot shards, and the air crackling with rage. “You could say that.”
“It seems to me, that at times, they can rub each other the wrong way. They do enjoy bickering from time to time…”
If there was ever an award given for the greatest understatement,
Clara Snape would win.
“…And the good Lord knows they can both be a touch headstrong.”
Hands down.
Hermione nodded in agreement still a little lost. “They can both be quite obstinate.”
“Indeed. Now, I have concluded that they, being men and the more illogical sex, are unable to see what is right beneath their noses. That is where we come in.”
“Ah, Ms. Snape, I am not sure you understand…I am actually here because Harry was worried you might have hurt yourself in a fall. I have medical training you see…”
“We have much more important things to discuss besides my unfortunate tumble.”
“We do?” Hermione asked still trying to follow along with little success.
“Yes. You and I. Now sit down, and pay attention, I will only explain this once.”
XxxXxxXxxXxxX
When Hermione descended the stairs later, she was relieved to find the house still intact. Severus and Harry were both standing in the centre of the room, staring intensely at each other. Hermione wasn’t sure whether they were about to employ unforgivables on each other or jump each other right there in the library.
She was immeasurably relieved when they did neither, Severus turning when he felt her presence, pining her with his eyes.
“Is this a bad time?”
Severus snorted. “Harry and I have called a truce of a sort. You are in no immediate danger. So? Is my aunt actually injured or is this some elaborate ruse?”
“Severus!” Harry snapped reproachfully, “How could even ask that? Of course she is injured. Isn’t she Hermione?”
Hermione looked to Harry and then Severus, her gaze steady. “She has sprained her ankle quite badly. I am, however, positive no permanent damage was done to it. She will need to keep weight off it for two or three days.”
“Severus, I am sure your potion supplies include some bramblewood root, which can be ground up and ingested for the pain. It can be slipped into sweet juice to mask the rather sugary taste of the roots.”
Severus nodded. “That is what I would have used. I have a few whole plants in the cellar. I will go pick some roots now.
After Severus vacated the room, Harry walked Hermione through into the kitchen and to the door. “Thank you from coming to check on Clara. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, Harry.” Hermione insisted, stepping into her boots. “None at all.”
Harry helped her into her coat. “So, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning at the Burrow?”
“About that Harry…”
“What?”
“I think you should stay here tomorrow. Clara is going to be restricted to her bed for the most part. She’s going to need someone to look after her. Someone with more bedside manner than Professor Snape.”
“You may be right.” Harry allowed. “the man has the manners of a beasty.”
Hermione nodded quickly. “I would feel better if you were here to watch over her.”
Harry bit his lower lip thoughtfully. “Will you give the Weasleys my apologies? Tell everyone I will visit as soon as possible after the New Year.”
Hermione nodded, leaning over to hug Harry tightly. “Have a Merry Christmas, Harry.”
“You too, Herm. Thanks again.”
XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX
Late that night, Severus debated silently at the top of the stairs for several minutes before finally deciding to descend to the main floor. His aunt was abed and there were lights and sounds coming from the lower floor, so he was prepared to find Harry down there. He was not prepared, however, to find Harry standing be the fireplace, staring broodingly down at half a plate of shortbread cookies.
While Hermione had been up seeing his aunt, he and Harry had agreed upon a truce a delicate truce, no vicious augments until after Christmas. Severus doubted they would make it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. It would be easier to do if they avoided each other completely, which was why Severus was unsure if her should go down the stairs in the first place. But he had been unable to sleep. With his aunt aware of their ruse, Harry had volunteered to slept in the attic, and Severus was appalled to find he had become used to Harry in his bedroom after only five nights. So used to it, in fact, that he had been loath to lie down at try to sleep alone in the room.
Severus looked over at Harry who was still staring at the cookies as if trying to solve some invisible puzzle. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Harry said quickly, turning away from the fireplace and sliding the plate of cookies onto the low wood coffee table.
“It’s rather ridiculous.” Harry admitted. “I…Uhh…Truthfully, I was in the kitchen, and I saw the cookies, and for a moment I thought about the tradition of putting out cookies on Christmas Eve, you know, for Santa Claus, and before I knew it I was out here, holding these cookies, feeling like quite the idiot.”
“You’re right, that is ridiculous.”
“Thanks.”
Severus took a deep breath, reminding himself to make more of an effort to be civilised. “Was it something you used to do when you were young?”
“Hardly.” Harry snorted.
It would have been impossible to miss the bitterness in Harry’s tone.
“You did not believe in Santa Claus?”
“Oh, I believed all right. I believe he used to bring my cousin presents and forget me every year.” At Severus’ confused look, Harry continued, “My aunt and uncle saw no reason to buy me presents, while they spoiled Dudley rotten.”
Severus had heard and dismissed rumours of Harry’s mistreatment at the hands of his relations over the years. Perhaps he should have paid more attention. “Were your Christmases really all that bad?”
Harry shrugged lightly. “There weren’t bad…There just weren’t. I never participated in the family Christmases growing up. Unless you count all the extra cooking and cleaning I had to do.”
“You never had a proper Christmas?”
“No. Not until second year when Ron invited me home for the holiday. I was twelve. Molly stuffed me with food, I got real actual presents that belonged only to me, I got to spend the night with Ron and his brothers, being part of their family. Merlin,” Harry sighed softly. “It was the best Christmas I ever had.”
“I am sorry your relatives were so lacking. Families are highly over-rated as far as I have observed.” Severus stated seriously.
Harry’s look was sober. “I am sorry for your experiences growing up as well.”
Severus nodded stiffly.
“Perhaps, I was lucky that my uncle thought me such a freak. His fear of my ‘differences’ often deterred him from physically harming me. You were not so lucky. Clara has told me…”
Murdering one’s aunt was legal, wasn’t? If not it should be, Severus thought darkly, interrupting, “Clara’s mouth is often too loose. My childhood was tolerable. After all, I survived did I not?”
Harry wasn’t entirely sure about that but keep silent.
“I…I…” Severus wanted to apologise about the whole Ginny-Draco-Harry fiasco from before. He had been wrong to make assumptions about Harry’s private relationships, but he had been unable to believe Harry might have actually felt something real for him. He still didn’t believe it, although he was fearfully aware that any feelings Harry may or may not have had for him could well have changed over the last 24 hours and the numerous arguments they had gotten into. He tried to put his feeling into words. Unfortunately, any skill he had at that sort of thing had gone to rust decades ago. “I …am sorry.”
Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over Severus’ before staring into fire, and saying quietly with understanding. “It’s all right.”
And it was, he realised. It actually was.
The next morning Harry rapped at the door to the guest bedroom.
“Come in.”
Harry cracked the door open and peering inside, he was holding a tray of breakfast staples. “Merry Christmas, Clara. Are you up for a visitor?”
“Of course, Harry dear, come in. Merry Christmas to you, too. Where is Severus?”
Harry moved into the room, making his way over to the bed and perching on the edge, placing the tray close to Clara. “Still abed I believe. How are you feeling?”
“My ankle still feels swollen and sore, but I will make a full recovery, don’t you be worrying about me.”
“I am sorry I ran out of here yesterday. If I hadn’t been acting so immature, you wouldn’t have been out running after me and gotten yourself hurt.”
“It not your fault, Harry. But tell me this, why did you run away in the first place?”
Harry sighed and shrugged lightly. “I simply needed some breathing space.”
“Space away from Severus?” Clara pressed.
“No. Well, yes.” Harry fisted his hands in his lap, his frustration clear. “God damnit, that man can be trying.”
Clara sighed laying a hand on one of his fists. She left it there silently for one moment and then pulled away, rolling up the cuff of her night-gown. Harry watched, confused, as she then tugged the sleeve up her arm. She pointed to a faint pink mark just below her sharp-boned elbow. “See that?”
“The scar?”
“Um-hmm.” Clara nodded. “I got it when I was only seven. I was trying to learn how to ride a bike, Tobias, my older brother and Severus’ father, used to throw things, sticks and rocks, under my wheels and one day I had a particularly bad fall, I landed on the cobble stone and really sliced my elbow and knee open. Do you think it unusual that it left a scar?”
Harry’s brows drew together in a frown. “No, of course not, all deep cuts leave scars when they heal.” At least with out magic to heal them.
Clara pulled her sleeve down. “Exactly.”
Harry just looked at her.
“Severus was wounded very deeply growing up, Harry. That kind of injury leaves scars. Scars that never go away. Like the scar on my knee and that one on your forehead.” Clara reached out, her cool fingers brushing the hair off his forehead and lightly grazing the lightening bolt scar. Harry shivered softly. No one had ever touched his scar before. It was as if everyone thought it would burn, or that the touch would somehow hurt Harry. Clara’s hand moved down the side of his face until she was patting his cheek delicately. “Severus does not trust easily and he certainly does not love without a fight. If you love Severus, and I think you do, you have to make some allowances for the scars he carries. Even if it means he sometimes makes you want to scream.”
“He has a habit of doing that quite frequently.”
Clara nodded. “To me as well. Listen Harry, the older I get, the more I realise how many people in this world are complete fools.”
“You are just coming to this conclusion now?”
“No, something I rather think I knew from the moment I was born. But I am just now realising I must do something about it… It may surprise you but I am a bit of a meddler.”
Harry was careful to keep his expression neutral.
“I like you, Harry. And I do not like a great many people. I want to see you happy.”
“I am happy.” Harry said quickly.
“Are you?”
Was he? What did that even mean? And what does it mean that he had to stop and ponder the answer? He certainly wasn’t unhappy. He was alive after all, and that wasn’t a fact he ever wanted to take for granted. But that didn’t mean he had been able to throw off this pang that had been eating at him lately. Loneliness perhaps. But even more than that. Emptiness. But the emptiness wasn’t there when Severus was close by.
“I do not think he wants anything I have to offer him, Clara. There is a great deal about our relationship you know nothing of.”
“It’s Christmas Harry, if there was ever a time for forgiveness and making amends, this is it. Can’t you feel it, Harry? This time of year…it is magical, if you just give it a chance.”
“You should still be resting, it is early.”
Both Clara and Harry looked up sharply to find Severus in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re not disturbing my aunt, are you, Harry?”
It was Clara who answered. “Pfft. He is hardly a disturbance, Severus, he is family.”
“And here, I had thought those two labels interchangeable.”
Clara harrumphed, “Which of us do you think he was trying to insult with that comment?”
Harry knew Severus did not think of him as family, so he was fairly sure that insult was aimed directly at Clara, he wasn’t about to say that however. “Hard to tell.”
“Never mind it then, we shall be the bigger people and take no notice of his ill humour. Now, I believe you were just about to wish both of us a Merry Christmas. Were you not, Severus?”
“Of course.” Severus walked over to the bed and leaned in to press a kiss to Clara’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Aunt. Harry.”
“Why don’t you boys go down and get yourselves some breakfast? I will join you shortly and we can see about those brightly wrapped presents under the tree.”
“Of course.” Harry rose off the bed, heading towards the door. “Coming Severus?”
Severus followed Harry out of the room, but they didn’t get far before Harry stopped, looking back at Severus. “You should go back to tell Clara to call when she is ready to come down stairs, she’ll never be able to navigate these stairs with her sprained ankle.”
Severus nodded and returned to his aunt’s room, knocking briefly, once, before pushing the door open.
The first thing he saw was his aunt, nothing out of the ordinary unless one considered the fact he saw his aunt walking effortlessly over to the window, not even with the slightly hint of a limp.
Severus shut the door discreetly to afford them privacy as he confronted his aunt, his gaze narrowed reproachfully. “Your ankle was never hurt, was it?” Severus questioned, knowing the answer.
“I did nothing untoward.” Clara claimed defensively, not bothering to deny the obvious. “Harry belongs with us for Christmas. I simply ensured he would be here.”
“I ought to throttle you for your interference.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I suppose not. I suppose I shall have to settle on thanking you instead.”
“You are welcome, Darling. Now, go find your boy. I shall endeavour to take my time getting downstairs. But even dilly-dallying I cannot promise more than 15 or 20 minutes, so make the most of it.”
XxxXxxXxxXxxX
Harry was stirring a spot of cream into his tea when he felt something brush the hair on the top of his head. He absently swatted at his wild hair, pushing it back with his fingers. A moment later, he felt the brush against his head again. He turned to look back. Severus was standing in the doorway, watching him. Harry smiled at he older man, then he felt touch of something in his hair again.
Severus looked pointedly above Harry’s head. Mirroring the movement, Harry looked straight up. A small bough of greenery bobbed, suspended in the air above his head. From across the room, Severus made the small twigs flutter lightly.
“It’s mistletoe.”
“So it is.”
“Tradition states you must get a kiss now.”
“We probably shouldn’t shirk tradition.”
Severus didn’t move a muscle to meet him half way, so Harry left his teacup on the counter and walked across the room. The mistletoe levitated through the air, always remaining directly overhead. Harry stopped immediately in front of Severus. And time seemed to slow.
Severus whispered Harry’s name, touched his cheek.
Harry’s eyes dilated, his breath caught in his chest.
And in the end, it was inevitable.
The kiss was warm and dry and gentle.
Harry finally pulled back a fraction. Severus was frozen, speechless, his lips slightly parted, leaning slightly forward into the kiss. Harry decided he quite liked Severus like that, off guard, vulnerable.
When Severus recovered sufficiently, he lightly shook his head in a disparaging manner. His voice was low and husky as he observed in a depressively resigned tone, “We are going to drive each other mad, aren’t we?”
“I think that will be unavoidable.” Harry’s body bowed towards the older man naturally. He let their lips touch lightly again. “But I do believe it will be well worth it.”
Everything was perfect. The taste of Severus’ lips, the strength in his hands curled over Harry’s hips, the smell, the feel, the heat. Harry threaded his fingers through the hair resting at the nape of Severus’ neck.
Severus looked down at Harry, pulling him in even closer so their bodies fitted flush. His voice was low and husky. “Last night, you never asked me what my best Christmas was.”
Harry’s attention on Severus was absolute, his green eyes intense. “What was your best Christmas, Severus?”
Severus leaned down, their lips almost brushing, his answer was whispered hoarsely. “This one, Harry. This Christmas.”
Their next kiss wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was hard and needy and they clung to each other as though they could make it last forever by sheer force of will. The mistletoe fell to the ground; Severus had lost the minimal amount of concentration it took to keep it afloat.
They finally had to break apart to get in a full breath of air.
Holding the older men where he was, Harry leaned up so his mouth was beside Snape’s ear and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Severus.”
Severus’ lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but didn’t really know how. He settled on what he hoped was a warm sort of a scowl. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
Harry smiled tenderly, leaning closer once more; Severus ducked his head this time, eager to taste those smiling lips once more. In fact, he had the sinking suspicion he would be perfectly content for the rest of his days if he never had anymore than this. Harry in his house, in his life, under his lips.
“Well, it is about time.” Clara interrupted with a stomp of her cane.
Severus growled, Harry could feel the low vibration go right through his body. Severus’ frustrated gaze was touched with affection as he looked towards his aunt, disengaging reluctantly from Harry. “Your timing is, as always, impeccable.”
Harry turned and smiled brightly at Clara. “You are walking by yourself!”
“Indeed, I seem to have made a terrific recovery.”
“Indeed.” Severus grumbled, “Harry, why don’t you take my aunt into the living room, I shall finish up with the tea and muffins.”
XxxXxxXxxXxxX
When Severus enter the other room only a short time later, his found his aunt sitting back on the couch, Harry was whispering something in her ear. As Severus walked to the low coffee table with the tea service and plate of toast and muffins, Harry straightened away from his aunt, and Severus watched in shock as his unshakeable, tough as dragon talons, aunt sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek.
Spying Severus’ return, Harry hurried over, wrapping an arm around his waist, fitting himself under Severus’ shoulder. Snape lowered the tea service to the table, tightening his arm over Harry’s shoulders, “What did you do to my aunt?”
“Nothing, we were just talking.”
“And what did you say to her?”
“Just the truth,” Harry responded, tilting his face up, eyes shinning with something electrifying, “That your kiss made my toes curl.”
Clara watched, pleased, from across the room as her nephew leaned over and kissed the younger man tenderly on the lips.
Sometimes she even surprised herself at how well her schemes worked.
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