The annoying Christmas
Summary: Harry Potter is an older cousin to James Potter, and his lover Voldemort doesn't do Christmas decorations. Which makes him put up a lot of it. Severus is not impressed. Neither is Voldemort for that matter. Slash.
Warnings: Harry not James and Lily's son, he's more towards dark, OOC!Voldemort and so forth.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing fanfiction.
Just a short VoldemortHarry!
Severus Snape decided for all the good Harry Potter was to Voldemort, he was also very annoying when it suited him.
At first glance, they'd never fit together. Harry Potter, older cousin of James Potter, the Auror who had fought against Voldemort while the war was still raging on. Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord and advocating the return of many Pureblood thoughts and rights. Some would say they were polar opposites of each other.
But that was probably because people looked at Harry Potter and thought James Potter. But Harry was no James. Oh no, he was perhaps the furthest thing away from being a James.
Harry was vain to the point he accidentally made himself sort of immortal at the age of twenty-four. Or, at the very least he stopped physically aging. Severus wasn't sure how he made it, and Harry seems to not want to boast about that particular moment in his life. He boasted about his young looks, yes, but never the root of what caused that to happen.
He also didn't care much for politics, or fighting for the good side, as James had devoted his life to do. Harry despised the fact people would compare the two of them, when he was very clear on the fact they were nothing like each other.
Severus hadn't seen that when he first met Harry. He had seen that misfit couple, both of them young-looking while actually being much older than that. Harry was twenty years older than James, and Voldemort even older than that. Vanity though ran through them both, and when Severus met the two at the age of sixteen they hadn't appeared to look much older than him.
But once he started to see Harry outside of social parties, Severus realized more and more just how twisted both Harry and Voldemort were. Voldemort was twisted from his upbringing, rumours of Muggles trying to exorcise demons out of him as a child never really died down, and Harry was in a way twisted from his own upbringing. He had been told from the start what to do, say, look and think. He hadn't been cared for, he had been shaped.
Snapping out of that shape had resulted in some bizarre characteristics in his personality, and led him to actually find what he called true love in Voldemort at age twenty-six.
That annoying thing though… Severus wasn't sure why Harry did the things he did, wasn't sure Harry always knew, but Christmas always brought out mischief.
"Harry, please don't tell me you're about to paint the walls red and green," Severus said.
"You were going to paint them red and green," Severus realized, whereupon he put his head in his hands. "Why?"
"Voldemort never takes notice of my elegant Christmas decoration," Harry said. "So I thought I'd make it painfully obvious this year."
"Christmas isn't even a wizard holiday."
"Hush now. I can't paint the walls?"
"No," Severus said. "Where is lord Voldemort? Why isn't he stopping you?"
"He's out," Harry said. "As if I'd try to decorate with that oaf in the manor."
"That oaf, as you say, is the man you love."
"Yes. Oaf is an endearment."
"Only in your mind, Harry."
Harry seemed to give up the thought of painting the walls for the moment, and made the brush vanish into thin air. Then he dragged Severus into the living room and gestured around with his hands, presumably to have Severus take a look. The room was already full Christmas, complete with a tree. At least it was elegantly done, and not covering every part of the room.
"Now, for the stockings, golden and red or silver and green?"
"For my sanity, silver and green," Severus told him. "Also, let me know when the lord returns so I can flee before you two try to murder each other… again."
"The last time I walked in on you."
"That wasn't murder, we were flirting," Harry said.
"Well, to anyone else it certainly looked like murder…" Severus muttered.
Harry tilted his head because of course he didn't realize he and Voldemort were the strange ones in everyone's eyes. Severus wondered why he put up with the man.
Oh yeah, I do respect him because of the potions he makes…
That was the sole reason he was even with the dark. Without Harry, Severus wasn't sure he'd ever leave the house.
"Why are you doing this?" Severus asked. "Christmas is supposedly about family as well. Are you inviting the Potters here?"
"I don't fancy that very much," Harry said. "James has terrible manners."
"You mean he had that the last time you saw him?"
"Yes, last week."
"Mother invited me," Harry said, "and I couldn't resist going there and spoiling all the family fun. I wore the robe Voldemort gave me last month, and the jewels."
Oh dear, yes, because Voldemort showered Harry with expensive gifts like nothing Severus had ever seen before. Not even Lucius Malfoy showered Narcissa with that much attention.
"It didn't go well?" Severus asked.
"Oh, it was fine for me," Harry said. "Worse for that horrid friend of James', serious or whatever. He tried to put something in my food."
"Did he now?"
Sirius wasn't stupid, if it was who Harry meant, so what did the man think he could've accomplished by putting something in Harry's food? Did he think Harry would see it as a silly joke? That Harry would forgive him with a laugh, like James and Remus did whenever he pranked them?
"Yes, he did," Harry said. "So I broke his arms and threw him into a lake. Then I went to get cake that I and Voldemort ate up alone."
"Sometimes I wonder what makes you and the lord stick together… and then you say something like that and I feel stupid for wondering," Severus said. "Harry, is that paint on the wall?"
"It's not really the wall," Harry said. "But Voldemort won't know that."
Severus did question Harry's sanity every now and then. Provoking Voldemort for such a petty reason as wanting to have Christmas decorations being noticed…
Harry finished with the stockings, and stepped back. Looked over Severus' shoulder, and shone up. Oh no… Severus glanced at the doorway.
Voldemort usually made himself known immediately. But now he was just sort of looking around. His eyes found the painted wall, or the illusion of a painted wall. There it was; the eyebrow twitch. Severus began to inch away, towards the fireplace.
"Harry dear, did you paint the wall… red?" Voldemort asked.
"Well, you never say anything about my decoration skills at Christmas so I thought I had to outdo myself this time around," Harry replied.
"Why are you two holding your wands out already?" Severus asked. Neither seemed to notice.
Voldemort removed his outer robe and threw it on the nearby armchair. Harry rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Severus hoped there was Floo powder on top of the fireplace because otherwise he had to go past Voldemort to escape.
"Is that a living tree in our living room?" Voldemort wondered.
"Well, it certainly isn't alive anymore."
Severus reached the fireplace just as sparks began to shoot out of Voldemort's wand. Harry raised his own with a grin. Flirting? Severus thought as he found the Floo powder. Something is definitely wrong with those two.
Then he fled the manor.
Being invited for Christmas with the Dark Lord and his lover was a privilege, Severus knew this. People were jealous of him due to the fact he was the only one they had invited for the last ten years… or as long as they had celebrated the damn holiday.
When the war stopped, in 1984, Harry hadn't said much about it, other than he might be able to visit mother without the Ministry trying to capture him. For some reason, they thought he would make a good bargaining chip while the war raged on around them.
As if Voldemort would allow his lover to be used as bargain. Severus was also sure that Harry had on him at least a dozen different potions that would allow him not to be captured in the first place.
But it was around that time when Christmas had been introduced to Voldemort, by Harry's standards. And some bad Muggle movies. Where Harry got them from, Severus didn't know but he knew they met a swift, violent end once Voldemort found them.
So Christmas was a bit odd at best with the Dark Lord and Harry, but Severus went there every year anyway. Gifts weren't his thing, so he brought wine and wore a robe that had never seen even the smoke of a potion. Harry threatened with Severus losing limbs if he wore normal work-robes at dinner with them.
"Severus," Voldemort greeted in the living room once he arrived through the Floo.
The decorations had decreased, and there was no paint on the walls, fake or real. Harry was nowhere in sight as Severus handed over the wine.
"Oh, he'll like this one," Voldemort murmured. "He decided last minute his robes weren't good enough. And he was at a… family lunch earlier. Asked me if I wanted to come, and for a moment, I almost did."
Well, that would've been a sight. James Potter trying to be polite to the Dark Lord. Lily would probably rein him in, but that might have been a bit stressful for her.
"What changed your mind, my lord?"
"Ugh, as if I could stand being polite to that Potter brat. His wife is reasonable, but she's understandably wary of me and then I couldn't be bothered."
"… Was it also because Albus Dumbledore would most likely be there?"
The mere mention of his name had Voldemort twitching.
"I really hate that man," he said. "Let's have a drink and forget that bastard is still hanging around."
Severus had been offered a teaching position in potions by Dumbledore, but had at first refused. There was no war going on at that point, but he didn't trust the people on the other side. He didn't trust Albus Dumbledore, who had done nothing to help him with James and Sirius.
"Good evening, Severus!"
Harry came down in black robes, with silvery details shining through near the seams and around the throat. Harry had never had any concerns regarding Dumbledore. Had never cared about the man. He didn't like those who fought Voldemort, but they didn't have a separate face; in Harry's eyes they were all merely a group. So what if Dumbledore was considered a leader of that group?
So Severus had taken the position in the end, and had taught potions for the last seven years. It was rather nice, and being back at Hogwarts was comforting.
"Harry," he greeted.
"I hope you'll stay the night," Harry said.
"If you're alright with it," Severus said as if he hadn't stayed the previous years.
Also, since the three of them usually got quite drunk, the aspect of Flooing back to Hogwarts and vomiting all over himself wasn't very appealing.
The food was good, the wine superb, a Firewhiskey for both Voldemort and Severus while Harry took another glass of wine.
Severus received a gift from Harry, per usual, but watched Harry open the gifts from Voldemort. He also had some from his family. Voldemort had gotten gifts from some Death Eaters, but they were usually already opened by the time Severus came there.
Harry's gifts were opened with more careful consideration, and Severus sometimes felt like calling them fools in love. But he valued his life, and kept his silence as Harry expressed his delight in whatever Voldemort had bought him.
The gift from Harry was a practical one, which Severus didn't mind, because he had almost run out of books to record his potion experimentations in.
The Firewhiskey gone, Severus allowed himself to relax into the armchair. It was very comfy. Harry started talking about painting the walls.
"Don't you dare suggest a festive colour," Severus heard Voldemort say.
Because of course Voldemort wouldn't tell him no when it was blood being painted onto the walls. Severus snorted, closing his eyes.
"Someone's, I don't know," Harry said. "Red would be nice in the hall."
"Blood is red."
"Blood is blood, and red makes it sound like paint."
"Oh hush, you oaf."
"I'll paint the walls with your blood."
"No murder," Severus muttered.
"Flirting," the couple replied.
Severus groaned. As much as he respected Harry and Voldemort, sometimes they were just so annoying.
Bit of a hasty one, but I couldn't help myself. It's almost four-thirty in the morning here, so I can't really see straight so forgive me for any obvious grammatical errors.