[Part Two] The Twelve Pains of Christmas. HPSS. PG-13
Title: The Twelve Pains of Christmas
Author: faynia
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Word Count: 16, 284
Rating: PG-13
Summary: What is there not to love about taking care of Malfoy's child for the holidays?
Part One
The seventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Salvation Army
Harry woke up alone and to silence. For most, this would seem like a normal occurrence, one that would need no further investigation. Harry’s reaction to this realization was not that of the average person, which would have been to fall right back to sleep again and pretend he hadn’t just spent a night alone. No, he did not let the bed’s siren call affect him, and it wasn’t only because his feet were hanging off the edge and he was still in yesterday’s clothes. He sat up and stretched, wincing as his knees popped.
Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, Harry felt all the color drain from his face. It was well past eight in the morning, which meant Geoffrey had been up for over an hour and hadn’t woken him up. This struck Harry as odd since he was currently sitting on the edge of said five-year-old’s bed. He grabbed the leg of the abandoned stuffed dragon and yanked the toy out from beneath Geoffrey’s pillow. Harry played with the stuffed animals wings before setting it on the bed beside him.
Geoffrey could be anywhere in the house doing anything he wanted. Harry had come to anticipate the fact that Geoffrey only ever wanted to be with his “Uncle Sev’rus” and the only way Harry had been able to eliminate a potential disaster every morning was to wake up before Geoffrey did, but he hadn’t this morning. Actually, he was fairly amazed that Snape hadn’t stormed into Geoff’s room and forcibly dragged Harry out of bed. There was something strange going on and Harry couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.
There was no noise in the house at all and that disturbed Harry. For a brief moment the image of Snape’s uncle tying Geoffrey to a chair then dropping him into the stream that ran behind their home flashed through his mind, but he banished it quickly. Snape would never allow that to happen. No matter how much of a prick he had been yesterday, he still loved the little boy.
He wandered into the parlor tiredly, having not even bothered going to look in his and Snape’s bedroom. If Geoffrey was awake it was almost guaranteed Snape would be as well. There was no way the little blonde would have left both him and Snape alone for that long a period of time. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. He blinked as he entered the dimly lit parlor, none of the curtains had been drawn back and the only source of light was currently coming from the fire.
“But why didn’t she go back for the shoe, Uncle Sev’rus?” Harry heard Geoffrey’s ask somewhere near the fireplace.
His eyes widened in surprise. Geoffrey’s nose was practically pressed against the page of an old tome, but that wasn’t what had Harry’s mind spinning. The little boy was firmly ensconced on Snape’s lap, one of the man’s arms wrapped around Geoffrey’s waist to keep him still, but Harry suspected Geoffrey would have stayed even if not restrained. He was practically vibrating from Snape's desperately craved attention. If either of them had noticed his presence they weren’t saying anything about it.
“I suspect she meant to leave it there,” Snape said in low tones as he turned the page.
Geoffrey nodded thoughtfully. “Still seems kinda funny that she’d go runnin’ round without a shoe on one foot. Wouldn’ that hurt Cinnerella’s foot?”
"Perhaps." Snape glanced over at Harry with an indescribable expression before returning his attention to the curious child. Harry stood still, his gaze traveling between the chattering boy and the Snape impostor.
Geoffrey couldn't seem to help himself. Questions poured from his mouth like a broken faucet without even pausing to get an answer. "But then why did she leave it? It's pretty and now she's gonna get hurt and why did she run away? If the prince liked her enough it shouldn't matter if she dressed pretty, right Uncle Sev'rus?"
Harry listened as Snape patiently answered Geoffrey's questions (something Harry had previously thought impossible) to the best of his abilities. The entire situation was so odd Harry thought he would laugh. He sat down on the sofa quietly as he attempted to figure out Snape's game. It was so illogical. Without thinking too hard on it, he picked up the teacup from beside him and sipped the warm liquid. He let out a contented sigh before he could stop himself.
Geoffrey's head shot up and he let out an excited cheer. "Look Uncle Sev'rus, look! Uncle Harry's awake!"
"I can see that," Snape said, but there was no sting to it. He released the giddy five-year-old and observed Geoffrey as he flung himself onto Harry. Potter, for his part, clearly had not anticipated being tackled, his attention having been solely focused on him. Snape could see the confusion morph into surprise then settled on cheerfulness as Harry hugged Geoffrey.
"Morning Geoff," Harry said, ruffling the blond hair and laughing as Geoffrey once again went about flattening it down. Snape refused to admit how relieved he was to hear that laugh.
"Mornin' Uncle Harry, you sleep good?" Geoffrey asked as he finished fixing his appearance.
Harry reached out and untangled a kink the blond hair that Geoffrey had missed on his own. "Yes, very well. What have you been up to?"
"Uncle Sev'rus was readin' me fairy tales," Geoffrey chirped informatively. Harry nodded and smiled. Snape closed the heavy book with a soft thump and set it on the ground beside him. With a flick of his wrists, he rolled up his shirtsleeves. He could feel Potter's curious gaze settle on him again as Geoffrey prattled on about he had been read.
"I think I liked Snow White the most," Geoffrey declared thoughtfully.
Harry's attention went back to the eager blonde and he gave him an intrigued smile. "Oh? Why's that?"
Geoffrey bit his lip and struggled to look more thoughtful. "Cause its gots dwarfses."
"Which was your favorite?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh.
"I like the unhappy one."
Harry choked on his own laughter. He doubted Geoff knew why he liked that one the most. He certainly wasn't most children's favorite. He glanced across the room at Snape who was still lounging on the floor beside the hearth.
"He reminds me of Uncle Sev'rus," Geoffrey told him in a stage whisper.
Snape snorted and the sound reached across the room. Geoffrey flushed with embarrassment then buried his face against Harry's shirtfront.
Harry rubbed Geoffrey's back reassuringly. "He reminds me of your Uncle Severus as well."
"He does?"
"Yup, especially before he drinks his morning cup of coffee."
Geoffrey giggled and pulled away from Harry. Quick as a flash he was hurtling towards Snape and pounced on the older man before he could expect it. He exhaled sharply in surprise and found himself on his back staring up at a very excited five-year-old.
"Did ya hear what Uncle Harry said? Did ya? Did ya!"
"Yes," he wheezed.
Geoffrey stared down at him with a perplexed expression. "You okay, Uncle Sev'rus? You sound all funny."
Snape lifted the boy off his stomach and sat up stiffly. He massaged his lower back before sending a glare over at Harry.
"I assure you, I'm fine," he snapped.
Geoffrey seemed to be searching for something and whatever it was he found it. "Kay!"
Snape groaned softly as he made to stand up. He really had gotten up far too early this morning and all for Potter's sake. There was suddenly a hand at his elbow helping him stand and he brushed it aside distractedly.
"Glad to see you're back to normal then," Harry said with false cheerfulness. Snape could see the guarded distrust shining in Potter's green eyes. It seemed he still had a long way to go before he was truly forgiven.
"As normal as can be expected seeing that he's living in the woods with you, Potter."
Harry let go of Snape's arm like it burned and turned to face the newcomer. Max stood in the doorway with a dark scowl, that had Geoffrey hiding between him and Snape. Harry stole a quick glance up at Snape's expressionless face before looking down at Geoffrey.
The little boy looked up at him with pleading blue eyes and Harry felt helpless. Their conversation the night before was echoing painfully clear in his head as he saw the "make him go away" look in Geoffrey's eyes.
"There is no such thing as normal, Uncle, and I never assumed there was such a state."
Max's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, or what Harry assumed was surprise, because that certainly was what he was feeling. He didn't even dare look up at Snape and instead fussed a bit over Geoffrey.
Even with Snape suddenly back sassing his uncle it didn't quite clear away his and Geoffrey's conversation from the night before.
"Uncle Harry?"
"Yes, Geoff?"
"What's wrong with Uncle Sev'rus?"
"What do you mean?"
"Dunno. He just don't seem norman is all."
"Come here, Geoff. I'm sure Uncle Severus means well."
"He made you cry."
Max hit his cane against the ground violently. "You invited me here under the pretense that we would spend time together. Alone."
"I did no such thing," Snape thundered. Geoffrey shifted further behind his Uncle but his begging blue eyes never once left Harry and even if Harry weren’t watching him closely, he would have felt them like a brand. "As a matter of fact, I don't remember inviting you here either. You invited yourself and I agreed to let you come visit."
"Then you admit to wanting my presence."
"Yes, otherwise I would have told you in the politest terms where you could stick your head and that would be-"
Harry laid a hand carefully on Snape's upper arm. "Geoff's in the room," he reminded him in a hushed tone. As much as he was appreciating this anger being aimed at someone else, he'd rather not explain on Christmas to Draco Malfoy of all people, where his son learned some colorful new phrases.
Snape stiffened under his touch but Harry only reluctantly let go of the man when Snape ran a hand over his own face in clear agitation. The thought that it was way to early for this crossed his mind once again.
"I'm not crying, Geoff. I just have some dust in my eyes, that’s all."
"You're still cryin', Uncle Harry."
"So I am. Come on, it's bath time anyways."
"Do you think Uncle Sev'rus will make the bad man leave?"
"I hope so, Geoffrey, but you must understand that this is Snape's uncle and even if you don't like him, Uncle Snape probably does and that means we have to try to be nice to him. Okay?"
"Even if he makes you cry again?"
"Yes, even if he makes me cry again."
"Okay, Uncle Harry. Does that mean I have to like him?"
"No, it doesn't. You can go on not liking him all you want."
"Kay!"
"Could you pwease stop yellin?" Geoffrey asked quietly, peering out from behind Snape's legs.
Snape's lips thinned and he turned around to look down at the youngest Malfoy. "Sorry," he grit out and stepped backwards when Geoffrey looked ready to tackle him.
"You shouldn't have to apologize, Severus. He is just a child and it's not like Potter's complaining here and even if he was you could just as easily kick him out. I bet the boy hasn't paid rent in months."
Harry met Snape's eyes for a brief minute and Harry couldn't quite figure out what the older man was trying to convey to him. Something was swirling dangerously close to the surface in the other man's eyes.
He gripped Geoffrey's hand tightly and took a hesitant step closer to Snape. A gasp of shock escaped his lips when Snape's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, forcing Harry to release Geoffrey's hand. Max's eyebrows flew up his forehead and seemed dangerously close to flying off his face entirely at the demonstration. Harry was having the hardest time deciding on what expression to settle on, but he got the feeling that shock or surprise would not be the best one. So, he finally settled on neutrally glaring down at the floor. Yes, that would work. He leaned heavily into Snape's side letting Snape do all the talking. It was, after all, what Snape was good at. Plus, he doubted most highly that Max would appreciate him speaking. He'd probably think he had corrupted his nephew and that it was his fault entirely that Snape hadn't settled down with some nice woman of good standing.
Max's face was flushed and blotchy as if he were having an allergic reaction and for all Harry knew he could be. It would certainly make things more exciting anyway. Perhaps he was allergic to men touching one another, perhaps if he just reached out and tapped Max on the arm the man would dissolve into a puddle of pain. That would be fun, but probably not children friendly so he didn't do it. "What's this?"
"This," Snape sneered, holding Harry just a bit tighter, "is Harry Potter." Harry looked up at Snape speculatively. It wasn't that odd to hear his name from the surly man's lips but it was becoming increasingly rare this month. The holidays weren't Snape's favorite time of year; they fell right behind the first day of school each year. Things got rocky at those points but they always pulled through, always had and always will. He caressed Snape's back gently, almost unnoticeable but enough. "And he, my dear uncle," Harry watched with triumph when Max flinched at the nasty tone Snape had uttered the word “uncle” in. Although he was reveling in this suddenly possessive side of his lover, he didn't want the man to completely isolate himself from his family. It pained him to do it; he didn't want Snape to stop defending him. He certainly didn't get to do so as often as Harry did for the man himself, but he had to stop it.... once Snape had his say, "has been my partner for 6 years now next month."
"Very diplomatic," Harry muttered, not quite looking at anyone. He heard Snape snort softly and Geoffrey smothering a giggle, really that child knew too much for his own good.
"Your p-partner?"
"I didn't know you had developed a stutter in your old age, Uncle Max, surely your brain isn't that addled."
"You can stop now," Harry whispered nervously, locking eyes with Snape and holding. Too soon Snape broke away and stared at his uncle who looked ready to fly into a fury if someone so much as breathed in the wrong direction.
“Stop what?” It surprised Harry to hear the almost confused quality of Snape’s question as if he truly didn’t know what he was doing.
“You’re one of them,” Max spat, gathering his mental capabilities and preparing himself for another verbal volley. Too bad he wasn’t going to get one.
“‘One of them’,” Snape mocked, arching a single brow in derision. It filled Harry with glee, even though he’d never admit it.
“One of those freaks. I cannot believe your father raised you to beco-”
“My father,” Snape hissed. Harry gripped the back of Snape’s shirt and tugged hard before things got too far out of hand. It was bad enough Geoffrey had heard the first bit of this conversation, if he let Snape continue, he had no idea what sort of vocabulary he’d pick up.
“Yes?” Max gripped the cane with both his hands and leaned forward on it expectantly with an evil smile.
“Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Snape,” Harry offered politely, changing the subject so abruptly even Snape startled slightly. Stepping away from Snape, he took Geoffrey’s hand once again. “We’d be happy to make you some.”
“What?”
“Breakfast, the most important meal of the day,” Harry recited, pulling Geoffrey in front of him and hugging him playfully. Geoffrey giggled and looked up at Harry with a huge grin. “I wondered if you would like any.”
“I wants some, Uncle Harry.”
“Of course you do, Geoff. I bet Uncle Severus didn’t even give you toast did he?”
Geoffrey shook his head and frowned sullenly. “No, but that’s ok.”
“Harry, it’s Friday, I left the flour on the counter.”
Harry looked over at Snape and smiled. “Pancakes then?”
Snape nodded a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Of course. Uncle Max, will you be joining us for breakfast?”
Max was sputtering in rage and Harry could only snort. The man would be gone before noon and Harry felt no remorse about it whatsoever. He swung Geoffrey’s arm earning a smile from the five-year-old.
“I’ll pass,” Max bit out. “Severus, follow me to my room please.”
“What for?”
“Severus,” Max snapped.
“If you two will excuse us.” Snape grabbed his uncle’s arm roughly and proceeded to drag the man protesting out of the room.
Harry watched them go with a touch of concern but he wasn’t allowed to dwell on it too long, for Geoffrey was tugging on his hand impatiently, dragging him towards the kitchen. Snape taking his uncle from the room had been an act of charity and he’d make sure to let Severus know his feelings on it later.
“I’m hungry, Uncle Harry.”
“All right, mate. Let’s go make some pancakes.”
Geoffrey cheered and let go of Harry’s hand and rushed into the kitchen allowing Harry to follow at his own pace. He heard the clattering of pans from the hall and smiled to himself. This was shaping up to be a good day.
The eighth thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: I WANNA TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!
“Geoffrey, for the thousandth time. NO! Christmas is just a few days away. I don’t want to risk getting you something your parents might.”
“But Uncle Harry, I want it,” he whined, holding out the toy with a pleading expression. It was whirring and clicking and was damn annoying. He couldn't believe Snape had convinced him to take Geoffrey to Diagon Alley to do some last minute shopping.
Harry bowed his head and grit his teeth. He wouldn’t snap, he wouldn’t snap, he wouldn’t-
“UNCLE HARRY!”
“GEOFFREY LIAM MALFOY, YOU WILL CEASE WHINING AT ONCE!”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened and his lower lip started trembling. Harry swore in his head. This was going to be a long day.
The ninth thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Finding parking spaces
“I have to do what?” Harry asked, his mouth hanging open slightly in shock.
Snape pinched his nose and waved off Geoffrey who was watching them worriedly from the floor. Puzzle pieces were strewn at the little boys feet forgotten for the moment. Geoffrey continued to stare for a few more moments before going back to his puzzle. The half finished dragon was already breathing fire and Harry vaguely wondered if he’d ever get used to the wizarding world.
“I need you to pick up something in Muggle London. You may take the car if you so desire.”
“Muggle Lon-we have a car?”
Snape sighed heavily. “Yes, Potter, we have a car.”
“When did we get a car?”
“Last month. You were at work, playing with the children.”
“You don’t have to make it sound like such a bad thing. I like my job.”
“I’ll never understand why you subject yourself to such a mundane job as babysitting someone else’s brat all day.”
“It’s only the morning and its not babysitting, Severus. It’s a preschool.”
“Nevertheless.”
“Well, why did you buy a car then?”
Snape looked at him pointedly and Harry flushed. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.”
They sat in silence, watching Geoffrey piece together the rest of the puzzle, before Harry spoke again, “I’m not going into Muggle London, Severus. Not to shop, not this month.”
Snape didn’t even turn to face him and Harry didn’t mind. “Why not?”
“There won’t be any parking.”
The Tenth Thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Batteries not included.
“What about this one?” Harry asked, handing over the walkie-talkie set. They’d been in this store for hours, scanning the shelves for something to give to Mr. Weasley and so far nothing had been deemed good enough by either Harry or Snape. Geoffrey was continuously trying to wander off into the toy section, hypnotized by the noises and colors. Every time they had dragged him back his excuse had been, “But Uncle Harry! They move! How do the Muggles make it move?!” Parents had dragged their screaming children by, clicking their tongues as if their spawn were acting better than their Geoffrey.
“What about it?”
“What about it?” Geoffrey parroted, trying to pitch his voice down low enough to sound like Snape’s.
“Geoffrey,” Snape growled, but it didn’t have any effect on the five-year-old who just giggled and latched onto Harry’s unoccupied hand.
“Geoffrey,” he mimicked, scrunching up his face in distaste.
“Don’t be such a prick, Severus, what do you think about it? Will it even work?”
Snape plucked the electronic out of Harry’s hand and turned it over to inspect it. “It should, it runs on ‘batteries’.”
Harry nodded and took them back, flipping them over in his hands to read the back. “Oh for the love of God,” he groaned, his eyes narrowing in on the bottom.
“What’s wrong?”
“‘Batteries not included’. That’s what is wrong!”
“Uncle Sev’rus, Uncle Harry, I gotta go to the potty,” Geoffrey whined, jumping up and down jerking Harry’s hand with him.
Harry shot Snape a dirty look that Snape just ignored. He knew going shopping was going to be a bad idea this close to Christmas.
The Eleventh thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Stale TV specials
Snape smirked as he watched Harry wrestle on the floor with Geoffrey. He swirled his eggnog, Potter’s idea, he had quietly told him that drinking in front of Geoffrey would be disastrous since he liked to try everything the adults were having and would tantrum when he didn’t get any.
“Uncle Harry?”
Harry stopped and glared at Snape who had snorted into his beverage. His hair stuck up in all directions and his glasses were only hanging off one ear now. His face was pink with exertion but Geoffrey’s inquiry had Harry panting trying to answer.
“Yeah, Geoff?”
“Could you tell me a story, pwease?”
Harry grinned and scooted back until his back pressed against the armchair across from where Snape sat. He held out his arms and spread his legs and Geoffrey came crawling rapidly across the floor and snuggled against Harry’s chest. Harry locked his arms around the little boy and buried his nose in the sweet smelling blond hair.
“All right then,” Harry announced once they were properly adjusted. “I bet you haven’t heard any Muggle Christmas stories before have you?”
Geoffrey shook his head. Harry pulled out his wand and summoned a book that came sailing from the bags in the corner. Harry met Snape’s inquisitive stare with a sheepish grin. “I couldn’t resist, just buying presents is so dull.”
“I see,” Snape drawled, setting his drink down. “What else have you purchased without me knowing?”
“Nothing that you need to know about tonight,” Harry replied smirking. “Don’t you know not to ask what someone bought this close to Christmas?”
“Yes, you seem to feel the need to tell me this every blessed year.”
Harry grinned. “Then quit asking already!”
Snape arched an eyebrow and remained silent. Harry saw Geoffrey had snatched the book from his hands and was already trying to read it without him.
“What’s that word, Uncle Harry?”
Harry looked to where Geoffrey was pointing and grinned. “Scrooge.”
“What’s a Scrooge, Uncle Harry?”
Harry snickered and his eyes flickered up to meet Snape’s amused countenance. “Well, Geoffrey, a Scrooge is a person who doesn’t like Christmas much at all.”
“You mean like Uncle Sev’rus?”
“He’s certainly Scrooge-like, yes.”
Harry yelped as something stung his foot. He caught Snape pocketing his wand and he stuck out his tongue.
“I most certainly am not a Scrooge.”
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. “Oh please, old man, don’t get me started.”
Snape narrowed his eyes. “Enlighten me then. I cannot recall a single time where I showed disdain for the holiday.”
Harry snorted. “‘The holiday’, come on Severus, you are joking right? You like this holiday about as much as I like making potions, which is very little to none at all.”
Geoffrey tugged on Harry’s collar to grab his attention once again. “I thought you were going to read this to me.”
Harry smiled softly, but even Geoffrey’s annoyance didn’t stop him from sticking his tongue out one last time at Snape. He was positive there would be retribution for this later. He certainly hoped there would be anyways. “Course I am, buddy. So what have you gotten so far?”
“Once ‘pon a time,” Geoffrey declared.
Harry stroked Geoffrey’s shaggy blond hair, debating on whether he should attempt to cut it before the Malfoy’s came for Christmas. “That’s great! Anything else.”
Geoffrey shook his head and stared down at the illustrated page expectantly. “Why don’t the picture move?”
“It’s a Muggle book, Geoff. Muggles only have moving pictures at their cinemas.”
“Oh,” Geoffrey said sounding as if he understood which Harry knew he didn’t. “That’s okay then.”
“I’m so glad you think so.” Harry adjusted Geoffrey on his lap, than turned his gaze down onto the book. “Once upon a time,” Harry began in hushed tones, “-- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house.”
“What’s a countin’ house, Uncle Harry?”
“Well, I suppose it’s a bit like Gringott’s Bank actually,” Harry explained uncertainly.
Geoffrey twisted to look up at him with wide eyes. “You mean that Scrooge is a goblin?”
“No Scrooge is a man.”
“But I thought only goblin’s worked in banks.”
“Wizarding banks, yes, but not the Muggle one’s. They’re run entirely by people.”
“That’s weird, Uncle Harry,” Geoffrey stated, before looking down at the book. “Is that Scrooge?”
Harry looked upon the picture of an elderly man hunched over a desk with a quill and ink and an irritable expression. It was so uncannily like Snape he almost snorted. He could easily see the man looking exactly like that in 40 or so years, but hopefully less miserable, definitely less miserable if he had any say in it. His eyes flitted up to catch Snape’s and he felt the faint brush of magic against his mind. He let Snape in without resistance. Snape glared at Harry’s thoughts.
“Yes it is.”
“He looks like Uncle Sev’rus.”
Harry grinned and shot Snape a triumphant grin. Snape sighed exasperatedly and picked up his eggnog again.
“It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already -- it had not been light all day -- and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air.”
“Huh?” Geoffrey asked.
Harry laughed. “It was cold and foggy. People were cold so they were bouncing around and rubbing their hands to keep warm. It was three in the afternoon but it had been dark at all that day and people in the building’s surrounding Scrooge people were lighting candles.”
“Oh.”
“You want to hear something else instead, Geoff?”
Geoffrey looked afraid to say ‘no’ but he nodded. “Yes, pwease.”
“Good, because Dickens puts me to sleep.”
“Then why in Merlin’s name did you buy the blasted book, Potter?”
Harry set the book aside and wrapped his arms around Geoffrey. “Because it’s a holiday classic and it’s the only thing Dickens wrote that wasn’t completely dry.”
Snape snorted. “True enough, but now what are you going to read? Don’t tell me you have the collected works of Jane Austen in that bag of yours as well.”
“No, definitely not.”
“Then what, might I ask are you going to tell young Geoffrey?”
“Why Severus I thought you’d never ask.” Geoffrey giggled when Harry tickled his sides. “I’m going to recite the Night before Christmas from memory.”
“Merlin forbid,” Snape sneered, but the small smirk completely destroyed the effect. He extended his hand to the little boy on the ground. “Geoffrey, come here so we can listen to Harry botch a perfectly good Christmas story.”
“Hey! I’ll let you know I’ve been telling this story to the twins since they were two,” Harry huffed, reluctantly letting Geoffrey go to Snape. Snape effortlessly picked the child up and settled him onto his lap. Geoffrey was beaming and snuggling against Snape’s chest and Harry desperately wished he could procure a camera. The lightening from the fire cast their shadows onto the far wall and if Harry had been in the mood to be artistic he could produce his own Christmas cards from that picture alone.
“You may proceed.”
“Thanks ever so much.”
Snape inclined his head regally and Geoffrey burst out in giggles again. Things had been different since Snape’s uncle had left. Snape had relaxed and gone back to the way he usually was mid-summer when school was out and no one was around to see him lounging casually around. It was nice to see Snape and Geoffrey getting along finally. Geoffrey gushed about Snape most nights now as Harry tucked him in to bed. He would babble about all the things he did with the Potion’s Master that day and what he hoped they would do tomorrow. Harry would always listen and ask questions as he waited for Geoffrey to talk himself to sleep.
Harry had rewarded Snape duly for loosening up in his own way, which he could not think about with Geoffrey in the room. He cleared his throat dramatically and stood up. Green eyes glittering mischievously, he began to weave his tale.
“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.” He quickly summoned Dicken’s novel and transfigured it into a stuffed mouse before wiggling it in Geoffrey’s face. The five-year-old giggled and batted it away. Harry stepped backwards and handed the stuffed animal to the little blond. Geoffrey grabbed it quickly, holding it closely. Harry summoned his bag of items from across the room with a grin. He set it beside him on the floor and noticed he had a bit of an audience.
“You came prepared,” Snape stated, eyeing the bag warily.
“Of course!” Harry said cheerfully. Geoffrey was playing with the mouse’s big grey ears and Harry quickly resumed the story. “The stockings were hung from the chimneys with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.”
Geoffrey peered at him from beneath bleach blond fringe excitedly. Smart boy Malfoy was raising, Harry thought as he produced a stocking with the name Geoffrey inscribed on it with silver glitter. Geoffrey leaped off Snape’s lap and Harry handed him the stocking. The little boy walked over to the fireplace with a thoughtful expression as he determined where to hang the stocking.
“There!” Geoffrey said, pointing at the far right of the mantel. Harry nodded and smiled. He went over and lifted Geoffrey up so the boy could place the stocking there. He heard Snape move around and felt the faint rush of magic sweep past him and hit the stocking. He glanced over his shoulder with an amused expression. “It's stickin’, Uncle Harry!”
“Is it really?” Harry asked feigning shock as he pulled Geoffrey back from the fireplace and settled him back on the ground. Geoffrey scurried back to Snape who had resumed his seat and from all appearances looked as if he hadn’t moved from his seat since Geoffrey left his lap. He waited for Geoffrey to settle down with the stuffed mouse, before moving along to finish off the story. He hadn’t realized how late it was getting until he had seen the mantel clock. It was getting to be Geoffrey’s bedtime.
“The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; and mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave the luster of midday to the objects below; when to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer.”
Geoffrey looked to be filled with questions about this and was barely containing them.
“Yes, Geoff?”
“Uncle Harry, are reindeer real?”
Harry grinned and nodded. “Of course they’re real. They're just as real as me and you.”
“Really?” Geoffrey breathed, eyes wide with awe. “Cause Susan said they weren’t and her mommy told her so.”
“Well Susan’s mommy is wrong, isn’t she?"
Snape arched a brow that Harry ignored totally. Geoffrey seemed to be thinking about what he said before beaming. “I can’t wait to tell Susan when I go back to school!”
“Any other questions?”
Geoffrey shook his head. “What happened next?”
Harry chewed on his lip as he quickly went through the story in his head before remembering where he was. “With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; ‘Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!’”
“Does Santa really say that cause it sounds silly?”
Harry laughed. “I don't know, Geoff. He just might. Can I keep going?”
“Yup!”
Harry nodded. “As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.”
Geoffrey giggled at the description then yawned. Harry knew that by the time he finished Geoffrey would be sound asleep.
“He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,” Harry said, lowering his voice just a pitch as he saw Geoffrey’s eyelids begin to droop. “And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose,And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.” Harry cut off abruptly and jerked his head down at the little boy on Snape’s lap.
“Is he sleeping?” Snape muttered quietly, not daring to move his head for fear of waking the boy.
Harry nodded with a fond smile. “Want me to put him to bed?”
I am not incapable of handling a child, Harry.”
“Never said you were,” Harry said, shrugging lightly. “Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”
“Potter, you were never a good actor. Don’t think to start now. Now go open the door.”
Harry saluted and went to the door leading from the sitting room to the hall and opened it.
“Cheeky brat,” Snape grunted as Harry bowed low once Snape stepped through the doorway.
The twelfth thing of Christmas that's such a pain to me: Singing Christmas carols
“UNCLE HARRY! UNCLE SEV'RUS! WAKE UP!”
Harry’s eyes shot open as something heavy jumped on his chest causing the air to rush out of him. Dark eyes were shining bright with excitement at him.
“S’Christmas, Uncle Harry!” Geoffrey exclaimed, rolling off of him and onto Snape. Harry couldn’t imagine that Severus enjoyed that all too much and was quite correct when he felt the man tense beside him. Harry clasped his hand and squeezed gently, in both warning and sympathy. It was Christmas after all and he really shouldn’t have expected anything different from Geoffrey.
“Come here, Geoff,” Harry rasped as he struggled to get into a sitting position. He held out a hand and the boy bounced off Severus’s stomach and onto Harry’s lap. Harry ruffled Geoffrey’s hair then with a wicked grin, began to tickle the boy until he was breathless. He felt the mattress dip as Snape sat up then got off the bed to go to the bathroom.
“Is Uncle Severus angwy wif me?” Geoffrey asked, once Harry let up with the tickle attack.
“Course not, love. He’s just a mean grouchy bear this early in the morning.”
“M’sorry, Uncle Harry,” Geoffrey mumbled, his blond hair falling in unruly shambles over
his face. “Didn’ mean to wake you up early.”
Harry pecked the boy’s forehead and smiled reassuringly. “It’s Christmas, Geoff. Let’s go see what you got!”
Geoffrey immediately perked up and was off the bed in a manner seconds, leaving Harry to wake up just enough to scramble after him. He paused in the doorway to the parlor, noting with some amusement the mistletoe hanging above his head. He didn’t remember hanging that there himself and he knew Geoffrey didn’t have enough control on his magic to put it there so that left only one person. He rested his forearm against the door frame as Geoffrey crawled around the enormous tree, looking for gifts with his name on the tags. The five-year-old didn’t seem to have any problems finding the first one either.
He yawned silently leaning his forehead in the crook of his elbow. Strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him off the archway and backwards. Harry hummed gently as Snape rested his chin on top of his head.
“Geoffrey’s already in the presents I see.”
Harry grinned, inhaling deeply, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. If he turned around now, perhaps…
“Uncle Severus, can I open it now?” Geoffrey whined. Harry opened his eyes to see Geoffrey holding up a package with shiny silver foil. He smiled indulgently and nodded even as Snape murmured his acquiescence. There was a flurry of activity as Geoffrey tore into the wrapping gaily. His expression was one of utter joyous abandonment.
“Go join him,” Severus said softly, his hands moving to settle on Harry’s hips. He prodded Harry into the room, with a swat to the bottom. Harry’s mouth dropped in shock, but his eyes sparkled with delight. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it with a rueful grin.
“Look, Uncle Harry! Mama sent me a crystal ball!”
Harry laughed as Geoffrey held up a Remembrall. He sat down behind Geoffrey and tugged the boy onto his lap. His hand enclosed over the one Geoffrey was holding the device with and it immediately swirled red. Harry frowned at that and heard Snape’s deep chuckle from across the room.
Harry arched a brow in suspicion. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Snape smirked, dark eyes alight with mirth, but no answer was forthcoming. Something had happened the night before that Harry had missed completely, otherwise he would understand what Severus was finding so amusing.
“Was it supposed ta be glowy red like that, Uncle Harry?” Geoffrey asked, his eyes fixed firmly on the object in his hands. The color of the fog had gone back to a dull gray.
Harry nodded, his chin brushing against soft blond strands of hair. “Not all the time. Your mother or father ever tell you about Remembralls?”
Geoffrey’s face scrunched up in thought and Harry could see the exact moment when the name clicked. “Yeah, he said there was a boy in Hogwart’s who got one and that he was ways forgetting stuff.”
Harry rolled his eyes and swore he heard Snape stifling a laugh behind a cough. “That’s the one. When it goes red, it means you have forgotten something?”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened and he looked down at the sphere in his hands again. “Oh,” he said, turning it over and over in his hands. “What you forgettin’ then, Uncle Harry?”
“I have no clue, buddy, none at all.”
Geoffrey nodded. “Okay then.” He turned his attention back to the pile of waiting presents. He scooted off of Harry’s lap and began to investigate the pile. With Geoffrey distracted by his scavenger hunt for his own presents, Harry reached under the chair beside the chair and pulled out a slender box, wrapped in silver paper with a gold ribbon.
He fingered the edge of the box nervously, then stood up and crossed to where Snape had seated himself in his favorite wing backed chair. Harry gasped when he was pulled down onto the older man’s lap, a faint blush rising up his neck at Geoffrey’s giggles.
“I thought we agreed to not exchange gifts this year,” Snape growled low in his ear. Harry shivered and glanced up at the man sheepishly. It was rather hard to imagine Snape being angry with him when he had been the one to drag him down onto his lap.
“Yeah well,” Harry answered after a great length of time, his nervousness growing by leaps and bounds. It didn’t matter how long he had lived with the man, how long he had been together with him, he still didn’t know what Snape wanted for presents and the great git was obnoxiously close lipped about it as well. No amounts of prodding could get the man to ever tell Harry what it was he wanted as a gift.
Snape snorted, plucking the gift from Harry’s hands. Harry watched as the older man turned the gift over and over in his hands before flicking open one end of it and carefully pulling the slender box out.
“You got me jewelry?” Snape asked with an amused lit.
Harry grinned and rolled his eyes. “Course not, unless, you think I fancy you a girl?”
“I certainly hope not.”
Geoffrey giggled again, but tried to hide it by smacking a hand across his mouth when Harry turned to look at him. Harry winked at the boy earning a winning smile from Geoffrey who decided that the half opened gift in his hand warranted attention again. With Geoffrey was fully distracted again, Harry redirected his grin at Severus.
“Well, are you going to open it or not?” Harry teased, staring pointedly at the gift in Snape’s hand.
“Must I?”
Harry’s grin widened. “Well, if you don’t want it…” He made to take it back, but Snape held the box beyond Harry’s reach. Harry pushed himself off Snape’s lap and perched on the arm of the man’s chair so he could watch him open the box. It really wasn’t anything fancy, heck, he wasn’t even sure that Snape would like it or not, but despite that, he wasn’t half as nervous as he supposed he should be.
Nimble fingers opened the velvet-covered box to reveal a gold linked chain. Snape held it up examining it in the early morning light streaming through the window. He gazed at Harry quizzically and he flushed.
“Your other one broke,” he said in way of explanation, letting himself be tugged back onto Snape’s lap. “It was cheap and had come with your watch as a bonus and I thought I’d get you one that would last for that reason and mmph-” Chapped lips descended upon his own in a chaste kiss. Snape’s reached up and gently cradled the back of his head and Harry’s eyes slipped shut.
“Ew!” Geoffrey cried, causing Harry to jerk back and almost fall off Snape’s lap, if Snape hadn’t moved his hand down Harry’s back fast enough to catch him. Harry stared at the little boy dumbly. The blonde’s face was scrunched up in disgust and Harry felt a knot form in his stomach. That was until Geoffrey added, “Why do adults do that? Kissy stuff. S’icky!”
Harry blushed furiously causing Snape to snicker. “Perhaps to you, Geoffrey, but to adults it’s-”
Harry slapped a hand across Snape’s mouth preventing him from finishing that line of thinking. Snape gripped Harry’s wrist and removed his hand with a smirk.
“Why did you stop me?”
“Because I know what was going through that big gray brain of yours and Geoffrey doesn’t need to hear it,” Harry replied, yelping when Snape groped his ass. Geoffrey was looking at them oddly, but since it wasn’t disgust only confusion, Harry could only assume the boy had no idea what had just occurred. He sighed in a sad attempt to recollect himself and offered Geoffrey a reassuring smile, before nodding at the present in his hand. “What did you get?”
The child held up a green sweater with a large “G” in silver in the middle.
“A Weasley sweater,” Snape muttered sounding mildly shocked. Harry couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling shocked as well. He hadn’t told Molly that they had Geoff for the Hols but someone had to. Unless George suddenly shrunk and grew an extreme liking of Slytherin colors, there was no other explanation for the existence of that sweater.
“Who gave it to you, buddy?” Harry asked as curiously as possible. He watched Geoffrey rummage through the wrapping paper safely ensconced on Snape’s lap, wondering how much longer he’d be there until he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor.
With a triumphant smile, Geoffrey found the correct tag and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to make out the tag. “Geoffrey,” he read out loud to himself. “Merwy C-Chwistmas,” Geoffrey looked at Harry for confirmation and at his nod quickly went back to the tag. “From Mr. an’ Ms. Weaswey.” He put down the tag with a look of confusion and uncertainty. “Weaswey?”
“You remember Ron right?” Harry encouraged, “He was here when your mother and father dropped you off.”
“Papa didn’ like him lots. They yelled.”
Harry chuckled, “That he did.”
Severus coughed quietly and Harry decided that he’d slide off his lap and onto the floor before he was deposited there against his will. He beckoned Geoffrey over, who, sweater in hand, immediately came over and settled between Harry’s legs. Harry slipped the sweater on over the boy’s head and turned him around.
“Malfoy’s going to kill me,” said Harry with amusement, as he took in the full picture of the little blonde in the homemade sweater. He went about flattened Geoffrey’s hair and brushed a bit off the five-year-old’s face.
“Whaddo you mean, Uncle Harry?”
Harry pinched Geoffrey’s nose with his fingers and wiggled it a bit. “It’s nothing, Geoff.” Geoffrey giggled and tried to pull away and Harry let him go, tumbling back towards the presents.
“I wouldn’t let him,” Snape snarled.
Harry glanced up at him mischievously. “Possessive this morning, aren’t we?”
"You," Snape said pointing a long finger at him, "Should be in the kitchen preparing the ham."
His jaw dropped open and he groaned loudly. "Well f-"
"Tut-tut, Potter, are you forgetting there's a child in our presence?"
Harry leveled a glare at the man, his face going bright red. "Bugger off," he grumbled and headed into the kitchen, ignoring the soft laughter that followed him.
~*~
Two hours later, Harry finally allowed himself a break from cooking. Bloody hell, how could he have been so stupid, waiting until the last minute like this to start cooking. Hermione would have his head if she found out, not to mention Mrs. Weasley would take it upon herself to take over his kitchen and reorganize it so he'd never be able to find the pots and pans again. He sighed, leaving the spoon he had been stirring the pudding with on the counter top.
He reentered the sitting room silently, hoping he could sneak up on its current occupants and scare them senseless. He padded into the middle of the room, when a loud snore made him freeze. A small smile appeared on his face as he walked around the coffee table and saw Snape lying on the floor, Geoffrey safely ensconced in his arms. The little boy’s arms were halfway into his too big sweater. The fire was dimming from inattention, but a quick wave of Harry’s wand had it glowing and crackling merrily once more.
“Git,” Harry whispered, nudging the sole of Snape’s foot with his big toe lightly. He’d love to get down onto the floor and go back to sleep with them, but someone had to stay awake so the food didn’t burn. That was the last thing any of them needed, Malfoy criticizing their food.
“Brat,” came the sleepy mumble from below him. Harry glanced down and saw Snape shooting him a tired glare. There was a long pause as they just stared at one another before Harry broke out in a silly grin and backed away slowly, before racing out of the room to their bedroom. He felt more than heard Snape enter behind him and didn’t even bother to turn around as he searched through his clothing for something warm and casual but not scrappy.
He looked over his shoulder when he heard the quiet creak of the mattress springs. Snape settled Geoffrey onto the big bed soundlessly, covering him with half of the comforter. Onyx eyes flickered up to meet his and for a moment Harry couldn’t even breathe.. His fingers loosened their grip on the red wool sweater he was holding and it fell to the floor with a gentle thud as Snape came towards him. He licked his lips, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.
A warm hand grabbed his own and tugged him forward insistently. Harry staggered forward and followed Snape out into the hallway, waiting as the man jarred their bedroom door so they could still hear Geoffrey. He was led by hand towards the sitting room when they stopped.
Snape let go of his hand and stepped under the doorway. Harry’s eyes widened in shock as Snape pulled one of the tiny red berries off the sprig of mistletoe and held it out to Harry expectantly. A blush raced up Harry’s neck and filled his cheek with its red color as he took the berry and closed his hand around it. He took a step forward until he was standing in front of Snape. His head tilted back, eyes shining behind his glasses. Snape grabbed his hips and pulled him flush against him. Harry’s hands automatically twined around Snape’s neck in a practiced motion, which was incredibly satisfying.
Rising onto tiptoes, Harry brought his lips within a breath of Snape’s lips and stopped, eyes flickering up to meet the older man’s before he leaned forward the extra centimeter, brushing his lips along Snape’s. A moment passed unnoticed before Snape retaliated capturing his lips in a deep, soul-bearing kiss that begged for forgiveness, and spoke of love, that Harry returned whole heartedly.
They broke off when they heard the sounds of Geoffrey stirring in their bedroom. Harry buried his head under Snape’s chin with a contented sigh, his eyes drifting shut as the faint strains of The Twelve Days of Christmas softly sang from the kitchen.
Author: faynia
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Word Count: 16, 284
Rating: PG-13
Summary: What is there not to love about taking care of Malfoy's child for the holidays?
Part One
The seventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me: Salvation Army
Harry woke up alone and to silence. For most, this would seem like a normal occurrence, one that would need no further investigation. Harry’s reaction to this realization was not that of the average person, which would have been to fall right back to sleep again and pretend he hadn’t just spent a night alone. No, he did not let the bed’s siren call affect him, and it wasn’t only because his feet were hanging off the edge and he was still in yesterday’s clothes. He sat up and stretched, wincing as his knees popped.
Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, Harry felt all the color drain from his face. It was well past eight in the morning, which meant Geoffrey had been up for over an hour and hadn’t woken him up. This struck Harry as odd since he was currently sitting on the edge of said five-year-old’s bed. He grabbed the leg of the abandoned stuffed dragon and yanked the toy out from beneath Geoffrey’s pillow. Harry played with the stuffed animals wings before setting it on the bed beside him.
Geoffrey could be anywhere in the house doing anything he wanted. Harry had come to anticipate the fact that Geoffrey only ever wanted to be with his “Uncle Sev’rus” and the only way Harry had been able to eliminate a potential disaster every morning was to wake up before Geoffrey did, but he hadn’t this morning. Actually, he was fairly amazed that Snape hadn’t stormed into Geoff’s room and forcibly dragged Harry out of bed. There was something strange going on and Harry couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.
There was no noise in the house at all and that disturbed Harry. For a brief moment the image of Snape’s uncle tying Geoffrey to a chair then dropping him into the stream that ran behind their home flashed through his mind, but he banished it quickly. Snape would never allow that to happen. No matter how much of a prick he had been yesterday, he still loved the little boy.
He wandered into the parlor tiredly, having not even bothered going to look in his and Snape’s bedroom. If Geoffrey was awake it was almost guaranteed Snape would be as well. There was no way the little blonde would have left both him and Snape alone for that long a period of time. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. He blinked as he entered the dimly lit parlor, none of the curtains had been drawn back and the only source of light was currently coming from the fire.
“But why didn’t she go back for the shoe, Uncle Sev’rus?” Harry heard Geoffrey’s ask somewhere near the fireplace.
His eyes widened in surprise. Geoffrey’s nose was practically pressed against the page of an old tome, but that wasn’t what had Harry’s mind spinning. The little boy was firmly ensconced on Snape’s lap, one of the man’s arms wrapped around Geoffrey’s waist to keep him still, but Harry suspected Geoffrey would have stayed even if not restrained. He was practically vibrating from Snape's desperately craved attention. If either of them had noticed his presence they weren’t saying anything about it.
“I suspect she meant to leave it there,” Snape said in low tones as he turned the page.
Geoffrey nodded thoughtfully. “Still seems kinda funny that she’d go runnin’ round without a shoe on one foot. Wouldn’ that hurt Cinnerella’s foot?”
"Perhaps." Snape glanced over at Harry with an indescribable expression before returning his attention to the curious child. Harry stood still, his gaze traveling between the chattering boy and the Snape impostor.
Geoffrey couldn't seem to help himself. Questions poured from his mouth like a broken faucet without even pausing to get an answer. "But then why did she leave it? It's pretty and now she's gonna get hurt and why did she run away? If the prince liked her enough it shouldn't matter if she dressed pretty, right Uncle Sev'rus?"
Harry listened as Snape patiently answered Geoffrey's questions (something Harry had previously thought impossible) to the best of his abilities. The entire situation was so odd Harry thought he would laugh. He sat down on the sofa quietly as he attempted to figure out Snape's game. It was so illogical. Without thinking too hard on it, he picked up the teacup from beside him and sipped the warm liquid. He let out a contented sigh before he could stop himself.
Geoffrey's head shot up and he let out an excited cheer. "Look Uncle Sev'rus, look! Uncle Harry's awake!"
"I can see that," Snape said, but there was no sting to it. He released the giddy five-year-old and observed Geoffrey as he flung himself onto Harry. Potter, for his part, clearly had not anticipated being tackled, his attention having been solely focused on him. Snape could see the confusion morph into surprise then settled on cheerfulness as Harry hugged Geoffrey.
"Morning Geoff," Harry said, ruffling the blond hair and laughing as Geoffrey once again went about flattening it down. Snape refused to admit how relieved he was to hear that laugh.
"Mornin' Uncle Harry, you sleep good?" Geoffrey asked as he finished fixing his appearance.
Harry reached out and untangled a kink the blond hair that Geoffrey had missed on his own. "Yes, very well. What have you been up to?"
"Uncle Sev'rus was readin' me fairy tales," Geoffrey chirped informatively. Harry nodded and smiled. Snape closed the heavy book with a soft thump and set it on the ground beside him. With a flick of his wrists, he rolled up his shirtsleeves. He could feel Potter's curious gaze settle on him again as Geoffrey prattled on about he had been read.
"I think I liked Snow White the most," Geoffrey declared thoughtfully.
Harry's attention went back to the eager blonde and he gave him an intrigued smile. "Oh? Why's that?"
Geoffrey bit his lip and struggled to look more thoughtful. "Cause its gots dwarfses."
"Which was your favorite?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh.
"I like the unhappy one."
Harry choked on his own laughter. He doubted Geoff knew why he liked that one the most. He certainly wasn't most children's favorite. He glanced across the room at Snape who was still lounging on the floor beside the hearth.
"He reminds me of Uncle Sev'rus," Geoffrey told him in a stage whisper.
Snape snorted and the sound reached across the room. Geoffrey flushed with embarrassment then buried his face against Harry's shirtfront.
Harry rubbed Geoffrey's back reassuringly. "He reminds me of your Uncle Severus as well."
"He does?"
"Yup, especially before he drinks his morning cup of coffee."
Geoffrey giggled and pulled away from Harry. Quick as a flash he was hurtling towards Snape and pounced on the older man before he could expect it. He exhaled sharply in surprise and found himself on his back staring up at a very excited five-year-old.
"Did ya hear what Uncle Harry said? Did ya? Did ya!"
"Yes," he wheezed.
Geoffrey stared down at him with a perplexed expression. "You okay, Uncle Sev'rus? You sound all funny."
Snape lifted the boy off his stomach and sat up stiffly. He massaged his lower back before sending a glare over at Harry.
"I assure you, I'm fine," he snapped.
Geoffrey seemed to be searching for something and whatever it was he found it. "Kay!"
Snape groaned softly as he made to stand up. He really had gotten up far too early this morning and all for Potter's sake. There was suddenly a hand at his elbow helping him stand and he brushed it aside distractedly.
"Glad to see you're back to normal then," Harry said with false cheerfulness. Snape could see the guarded distrust shining in Potter's green eyes. It seemed he still had a long way to go before he was truly forgiven.
"As normal as can be expected seeing that he's living in the woods with you, Potter."
Harry let go of Snape's arm like it burned and turned to face the newcomer. Max stood in the doorway with a dark scowl, that had Geoffrey hiding between him and Snape. Harry stole a quick glance up at Snape's expressionless face before looking down at Geoffrey.
The little boy looked up at him with pleading blue eyes and Harry felt helpless. Their conversation the night before was echoing painfully clear in his head as he saw the "make him go away" look in Geoffrey's eyes.
"There is no such thing as normal, Uncle, and I never assumed there was such a state."
Max's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, or what Harry assumed was surprise, because that certainly was what he was feeling. He didn't even dare look up at Snape and instead fussed a bit over Geoffrey.
Even with Snape suddenly back sassing his uncle it didn't quite clear away his and Geoffrey's conversation from the night before.
"Uncle Harry?"
"Yes, Geoff?"
"What's wrong with Uncle Sev'rus?"
"What do you mean?"
"Dunno. He just don't seem norman is all."
"Come here, Geoff. I'm sure Uncle Severus means well."
"He made you cry."
Max hit his cane against the ground violently. "You invited me here under the pretense that we would spend time together. Alone."
"I did no such thing," Snape thundered. Geoffrey shifted further behind his Uncle but his begging blue eyes never once left Harry and even if Harry weren’t watching him closely, he would have felt them like a brand. "As a matter of fact, I don't remember inviting you here either. You invited yourself and I agreed to let you come visit."
"Then you admit to wanting my presence."
"Yes, otherwise I would have told you in the politest terms where you could stick your head and that would be-"
Harry laid a hand carefully on Snape's upper arm. "Geoff's in the room," he reminded him in a hushed tone. As much as he was appreciating this anger being aimed at someone else, he'd rather not explain on Christmas to Draco Malfoy of all people, where his son learned some colorful new phrases.
Snape stiffened under his touch but Harry only reluctantly let go of the man when Snape ran a hand over his own face in clear agitation. The thought that it was way to early for this crossed his mind once again.
"I'm not crying, Geoff. I just have some dust in my eyes, that’s all."
"You're still cryin', Uncle Harry."
"So I am. Come on, it's bath time anyways."
"Do you think Uncle Sev'rus will make the bad man leave?"
"I hope so, Geoffrey, but you must understand that this is Snape's uncle and even if you don't like him, Uncle Snape probably does and that means we have to try to be nice to him. Okay?"
"Even if he makes you cry again?"
"Yes, even if he makes me cry again."
"Okay, Uncle Harry. Does that mean I have to like him?"
"No, it doesn't. You can go on not liking him all you want."
"Kay!"
"Could you pwease stop yellin?" Geoffrey asked quietly, peering out from behind Snape's legs.
Snape's lips thinned and he turned around to look down at the youngest Malfoy. "Sorry," he grit out and stepped backwards when Geoffrey looked ready to tackle him.
"You shouldn't have to apologize, Severus. He is just a child and it's not like Potter's complaining here and even if he was you could just as easily kick him out. I bet the boy hasn't paid rent in months."
Harry met Snape's eyes for a brief minute and Harry couldn't quite figure out what the older man was trying to convey to him. Something was swirling dangerously close to the surface in the other man's eyes.
He gripped Geoffrey's hand tightly and took a hesitant step closer to Snape. A gasp of shock escaped his lips when Snape's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, forcing Harry to release Geoffrey's hand. Max's eyebrows flew up his forehead and seemed dangerously close to flying off his face entirely at the demonstration. Harry was having the hardest time deciding on what expression to settle on, but he got the feeling that shock or surprise would not be the best one. So, he finally settled on neutrally glaring down at the floor. Yes, that would work. He leaned heavily into Snape's side letting Snape do all the talking. It was, after all, what Snape was good at. Plus, he doubted most highly that Max would appreciate him speaking. He'd probably think he had corrupted his nephew and that it was his fault entirely that Snape hadn't settled down with some nice woman of good standing.
Max's face was flushed and blotchy as if he were having an allergic reaction and for all Harry knew he could be. It would certainly make things more exciting anyway. Perhaps he was allergic to men touching one another, perhaps if he just reached out and tapped Max on the arm the man would dissolve into a puddle of pain. That would be fun, but probably not children friendly so he didn't do it. "What's this?"
"This," Snape sneered, holding Harry just a bit tighter, "is Harry Potter." Harry looked up at Snape speculatively. It wasn't that odd to hear his name from the surly man's lips but it was becoming increasingly rare this month. The holidays weren't Snape's favorite time of year; they fell right behind the first day of school each year. Things got rocky at those points but they always pulled through, always had and always will. He caressed Snape's back gently, almost unnoticeable but enough. "And he, my dear uncle," Harry watched with triumph when Max flinched at the nasty tone Snape had uttered the word “uncle” in. Although he was reveling in this suddenly possessive side of his lover, he didn't want the man to completely isolate himself from his family. It pained him to do it; he didn't want Snape to stop defending him. He certainly didn't get to do so as often as Harry did for the man himself, but he had to stop it.... once Snape had his say, "has been my partner for 6 years now next month."
"Very diplomatic," Harry muttered, not quite looking at anyone. He heard Snape snort softly and Geoffrey smothering a giggle, really that child knew too much for his own good.
"Your p-partner?"
"I didn't know you had developed a stutter in your old age, Uncle Max, surely your brain isn't that addled."
"You can stop now," Harry whispered nervously, locking eyes with Snape and holding. Too soon Snape broke away and stared at his uncle who looked ready to fly into a fury if someone so much as breathed in the wrong direction.
“Stop what?” It surprised Harry to hear the almost confused quality of Snape’s question as if he truly didn’t know what he was doing.
“You’re one of them,” Max spat, gathering his mental capabilities and preparing himself for another verbal volley. Too bad he wasn’t going to get one.
“‘One of them’,” Snape mocked, arching a single brow in derision. It filled Harry with glee, even though he’d never admit it.
“One of those freaks. I cannot believe your father raised you to beco-”
“My father,” Snape hissed. Harry gripped the back of Snape’s shirt and tugged hard before things got too far out of hand. It was bad enough Geoffrey had heard the first bit of this conversation, if he let Snape continue, he had no idea what sort of vocabulary he’d pick up.
“Yes?” Max gripped the cane with both his hands and leaned forward on it expectantly with an evil smile.
“Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Snape,” Harry offered politely, changing the subject so abruptly even Snape startled slightly. Stepping away from Snape, he took Geoffrey’s hand once again. “We’d be happy to make you some.”
“What?”
“Breakfast, the most important meal of the day,” Harry recited, pulling Geoffrey in front of him and hugging him playfully. Geoffrey giggled and looked up at Harry with a huge grin. “I wondered if you would like any.”
“I wants some, Uncle Harry.”
“Of course you do, Geoff. I bet Uncle Severus didn’t even give you toast did he?”
Geoffrey shook his head and frowned sullenly. “No, but that’s ok.”
“Harry, it’s Friday, I left the flour on the counter.”
Harry looked over at Snape and smiled. “Pancakes then?”
Snape nodded a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Of course. Uncle Max, will you be joining us for breakfast?”
Max was sputtering in rage and Harry could only snort. The man would be gone before noon and Harry felt no remorse about it whatsoever. He swung Geoffrey’s arm earning a smile from the five-year-old.
“I’ll pass,” Max bit out. “Severus, follow me to my room please.”
“What for?”
“Severus,” Max snapped.
“If you two will excuse us.” Snape grabbed his uncle’s arm roughly and proceeded to drag the man protesting out of the room.
Harry watched them go with a touch of concern but he wasn’t allowed to dwell on it too long, for Geoffrey was tugging on his hand impatiently, dragging him towards the kitchen. Snape taking his uncle from the room had been an act of charity and he’d make sure to let Severus know his feelings on it later.
“I’m hungry, Uncle Harry.”
“All right, mate. Let’s go make some pancakes.”
Geoffrey cheered and let go of Harry’s hand and rushed into the kitchen allowing Harry to follow at his own pace. He heard the clattering of pans from the hall and smiled to himself. This was shaping up to be a good day.
The eighth thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: I WANNA TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!
“Geoffrey, for the thousandth time. NO! Christmas is just a few days away. I don’t want to risk getting you something your parents might.”
“But Uncle Harry, I want it,” he whined, holding out the toy with a pleading expression. It was whirring and clicking and was damn annoying. He couldn't believe Snape had convinced him to take Geoffrey to Diagon Alley to do some last minute shopping.
Harry bowed his head and grit his teeth. He wouldn’t snap, he wouldn’t snap, he wouldn’t-
“UNCLE HARRY!”
“GEOFFREY LIAM MALFOY, YOU WILL CEASE WHINING AT ONCE!”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened and his lower lip started trembling. Harry swore in his head. This was going to be a long day.
The ninth thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Finding parking spaces
“I have to do what?” Harry asked, his mouth hanging open slightly in shock.
Snape pinched his nose and waved off Geoffrey who was watching them worriedly from the floor. Puzzle pieces were strewn at the little boys feet forgotten for the moment. Geoffrey continued to stare for a few more moments before going back to his puzzle. The half finished dragon was already breathing fire and Harry vaguely wondered if he’d ever get used to the wizarding world.
“I need you to pick up something in Muggle London. You may take the car if you so desire.”
“Muggle Lon-we have a car?”
Snape sighed heavily. “Yes, Potter, we have a car.”
“When did we get a car?”
“Last month. You were at work, playing with the children.”
“You don’t have to make it sound like such a bad thing. I like my job.”
“I’ll never understand why you subject yourself to such a mundane job as babysitting someone else’s brat all day.”
“It’s only the morning and its not babysitting, Severus. It’s a preschool.”
“Nevertheless.”
“Well, why did you buy a car then?”
Snape looked at him pointedly and Harry flushed. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.”
They sat in silence, watching Geoffrey piece together the rest of the puzzle, before Harry spoke again, “I’m not going into Muggle London, Severus. Not to shop, not this month.”
Snape didn’t even turn to face him and Harry didn’t mind. “Why not?”
“There won’t be any parking.”
The Tenth Thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Batteries not included.
“What about this one?” Harry asked, handing over the walkie-talkie set. They’d been in this store for hours, scanning the shelves for something to give to Mr. Weasley and so far nothing had been deemed good enough by either Harry or Snape. Geoffrey was continuously trying to wander off into the toy section, hypnotized by the noises and colors. Every time they had dragged him back his excuse had been, “But Uncle Harry! They move! How do the Muggles make it move?!” Parents had dragged their screaming children by, clicking their tongues as if their spawn were acting better than their Geoffrey.
“What about it?”
“What about it?” Geoffrey parroted, trying to pitch his voice down low enough to sound like Snape’s.
“Geoffrey,” Snape growled, but it didn’t have any effect on the five-year-old who just giggled and latched onto Harry’s unoccupied hand.
“Geoffrey,” he mimicked, scrunching up his face in distaste.
“Don’t be such a prick, Severus, what do you think about it? Will it even work?”
Snape plucked the electronic out of Harry’s hand and turned it over to inspect it. “It should, it runs on ‘batteries’.”
Harry nodded and took them back, flipping them over in his hands to read the back. “Oh for the love of God,” he groaned, his eyes narrowing in on the bottom.
“What’s wrong?”
“‘Batteries not included’. That’s what is wrong!”
“Uncle Sev’rus, Uncle Harry, I gotta go to the potty,” Geoffrey whined, jumping up and down jerking Harry’s hand with him.
Harry shot Snape a dirty look that Snape just ignored. He knew going shopping was going to be a bad idea this close to Christmas.
The Eleventh thing at Christmas that’s such a pain to me: Stale TV specials
Snape smirked as he watched Harry wrestle on the floor with Geoffrey. He swirled his eggnog, Potter’s idea, he had quietly told him that drinking in front of Geoffrey would be disastrous since he liked to try everything the adults were having and would tantrum when he didn’t get any.
“Uncle Harry?”
Harry stopped and glared at Snape who had snorted into his beverage. His hair stuck up in all directions and his glasses were only hanging off one ear now. His face was pink with exertion but Geoffrey’s inquiry had Harry panting trying to answer.
“Yeah, Geoff?”
“Could you tell me a story, pwease?”
Harry grinned and scooted back until his back pressed against the armchair across from where Snape sat. He held out his arms and spread his legs and Geoffrey came crawling rapidly across the floor and snuggled against Harry’s chest. Harry locked his arms around the little boy and buried his nose in the sweet smelling blond hair.
“All right then,” Harry announced once they were properly adjusted. “I bet you haven’t heard any Muggle Christmas stories before have you?”
Geoffrey shook his head. Harry pulled out his wand and summoned a book that came sailing from the bags in the corner. Harry met Snape’s inquisitive stare with a sheepish grin. “I couldn’t resist, just buying presents is so dull.”
“I see,” Snape drawled, setting his drink down. “What else have you purchased without me knowing?”
“Nothing that you need to know about tonight,” Harry replied smirking. “Don’t you know not to ask what someone bought this close to Christmas?”
“Yes, you seem to feel the need to tell me this every blessed year.”
Harry grinned. “Then quit asking already!”
Snape arched an eyebrow and remained silent. Harry saw Geoffrey had snatched the book from his hands and was already trying to read it without him.
“What’s that word, Uncle Harry?”
Harry looked to where Geoffrey was pointing and grinned. “Scrooge.”
“What’s a Scrooge, Uncle Harry?”
Harry snickered and his eyes flickered up to meet Snape’s amused countenance. “Well, Geoffrey, a Scrooge is a person who doesn’t like Christmas much at all.”
“You mean like Uncle Sev’rus?”
“He’s certainly Scrooge-like, yes.”
Harry yelped as something stung his foot. He caught Snape pocketing his wand and he stuck out his tongue.
“I most certainly am not a Scrooge.”
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. “Oh please, old man, don’t get me started.”
Snape narrowed his eyes. “Enlighten me then. I cannot recall a single time where I showed disdain for the holiday.”
Harry snorted. “‘The holiday’, come on Severus, you are joking right? You like this holiday about as much as I like making potions, which is very little to none at all.”
Geoffrey tugged on Harry’s collar to grab his attention once again. “I thought you were going to read this to me.”
Harry smiled softly, but even Geoffrey’s annoyance didn’t stop him from sticking his tongue out one last time at Snape. He was positive there would be retribution for this later. He certainly hoped there would be anyways. “Course I am, buddy. So what have you gotten so far?”
“Once ‘pon a time,” Geoffrey declared.
Harry stroked Geoffrey’s shaggy blond hair, debating on whether he should attempt to cut it before the Malfoy’s came for Christmas. “That’s great! Anything else.”
Geoffrey shook his head and stared down at the illustrated page expectantly. “Why don’t the picture move?”
“It’s a Muggle book, Geoff. Muggles only have moving pictures at their cinemas.”
“Oh,” Geoffrey said sounding as if he understood which Harry knew he didn’t. “That’s okay then.”
“I’m so glad you think so.” Harry adjusted Geoffrey on his lap, than turned his gaze down onto the book. “Once upon a time,” Harry began in hushed tones, “-- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house.”
“What’s a countin’ house, Uncle Harry?”
“Well, I suppose it’s a bit like Gringott’s Bank actually,” Harry explained uncertainly.
Geoffrey twisted to look up at him with wide eyes. “You mean that Scrooge is a goblin?”
“No Scrooge is a man.”
“But I thought only goblin’s worked in banks.”
“Wizarding banks, yes, but not the Muggle one’s. They’re run entirely by people.”
“That’s weird, Uncle Harry,” Geoffrey stated, before looking down at the book. “Is that Scrooge?”
Harry looked upon the picture of an elderly man hunched over a desk with a quill and ink and an irritable expression. It was so uncannily like Snape he almost snorted. He could easily see the man looking exactly like that in 40 or so years, but hopefully less miserable, definitely less miserable if he had any say in it. His eyes flitted up to catch Snape’s and he felt the faint brush of magic against his mind. He let Snape in without resistance. Snape glared at Harry’s thoughts.
“Yes it is.”
“He looks like Uncle Sev’rus.”
Harry grinned and shot Snape a triumphant grin. Snape sighed exasperatedly and picked up his eggnog again.
“It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already -- it had not been light all day -- and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air.”
“Huh?” Geoffrey asked.
Harry laughed. “It was cold and foggy. People were cold so they were bouncing around and rubbing their hands to keep warm. It was three in the afternoon but it had been dark at all that day and people in the building’s surrounding Scrooge people were lighting candles.”
“Oh.”
“You want to hear something else instead, Geoff?”
Geoffrey looked afraid to say ‘no’ but he nodded. “Yes, pwease.”
“Good, because Dickens puts me to sleep.”
“Then why in Merlin’s name did you buy the blasted book, Potter?”
Harry set the book aside and wrapped his arms around Geoffrey. “Because it’s a holiday classic and it’s the only thing Dickens wrote that wasn’t completely dry.”
Snape snorted. “True enough, but now what are you going to read? Don’t tell me you have the collected works of Jane Austen in that bag of yours as well.”
“No, definitely not.”
“Then what, might I ask are you going to tell young Geoffrey?”
“Why Severus I thought you’d never ask.” Geoffrey giggled when Harry tickled his sides. “I’m going to recite the Night before Christmas from memory.”
“Merlin forbid,” Snape sneered, but the small smirk completely destroyed the effect. He extended his hand to the little boy on the ground. “Geoffrey, come here so we can listen to Harry botch a perfectly good Christmas story.”
“Hey! I’ll let you know I’ve been telling this story to the twins since they were two,” Harry huffed, reluctantly letting Geoffrey go to Snape. Snape effortlessly picked the child up and settled him onto his lap. Geoffrey was beaming and snuggling against Snape’s chest and Harry desperately wished he could procure a camera. The lightening from the fire cast their shadows onto the far wall and if Harry had been in the mood to be artistic he could produce his own Christmas cards from that picture alone.
“You may proceed.”
“Thanks ever so much.”
Snape inclined his head regally and Geoffrey burst out in giggles again. Things had been different since Snape’s uncle had left. Snape had relaxed and gone back to the way he usually was mid-summer when school was out and no one was around to see him lounging casually around. It was nice to see Snape and Geoffrey getting along finally. Geoffrey gushed about Snape most nights now as Harry tucked him in to bed. He would babble about all the things he did with the Potion’s Master that day and what he hoped they would do tomorrow. Harry would always listen and ask questions as he waited for Geoffrey to talk himself to sleep.
Harry had rewarded Snape duly for loosening up in his own way, which he could not think about with Geoffrey in the room. He cleared his throat dramatically and stood up. Green eyes glittering mischievously, he began to weave his tale.
“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.” He quickly summoned Dicken’s novel and transfigured it into a stuffed mouse before wiggling it in Geoffrey’s face. The five-year-old giggled and batted it away. Harry stepped backwards and handed the stuffed animal to the little blond. Geoffrey grabbed it quickly, holding it closely. Harry summoned his bag of items from across the room with a grin. He set it beside him on the floor and noticed he had a bit of an audience.
“You came prepared,” Snape stated, eyeing the bag warily.
“Of course!” Harry said cheerfully. Geoffrey was playing with the mouse’s big grey ears and Harry quickly resumed the story. “The stockings were hung from the chimneys with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.”
Geoffrey peered at him from beneath bleach blond fringe excitedly. Smart boy Malfoy was raising, Harry thought as he produced a stocking with the name Geoffrey inscribed on it with silver glitter. Geoffrey leaped off Snape’s lap and Harry handed him the stocking. The little boy walked over to the fireplace with a thoughtful expression as he determined where to hang the stocking.
“There!” Geoffrey said, pointing at the far right of the mantel. Harry nodded and smiled. He went over and lifted Geoffrey up so the boy could place the stocking there. He heard Snape move around and felt the faint rush of magic sweep past him and hit the stocking. He glanced over his shoulder with an amused expression. “It's stickin’, Uncle Harry!”
“Is it really?” Harry asked feigning shock as he pulled Geoffrey back from the fireplace and settled him back on the ground. Geoffrey scurried back to Snape who had resumed his seat and from all appearances looked as if he hadn’t moved from his seat since Geoffrey left his lap. He waited for Geoffrey to settle down with the stuffed mouse, before moving along to finish off the story. He hadn’t realized how late it was getting until he had seen the mantel clock. It was getting to be Geoffrey’s bedtime.
“The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; and mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave the luster of midday to the objects below; when to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer.”
Geoffrey looked to be filled with questions about this and was barely containing them.
“Yes, Geoff?”
“Uncle Harry, are reindeer real?”
Harry grinned and nodded. “Of course they’re real. They're just as real as me and you.”
“Really?” Geoffrey breathed, eyes wide with awe. “Cause Susan said they weren’t and her mommy told her so.”
“Well Susan’s mommy is wrong, isn’t she?"
Snape arched a brow that Harry ignored totally. Geoffrey seemed to be thinking about what he said before beaming. “I can’t wait to tell Susan when I go back to school!”
“Any other questions?”
Geoffrey shook his head. “What happened next?”
Harry chewed on his lip as he quickly went through the story in his head before remembering where he was. “With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; ‘Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!’”
“Does Santa really say that cause it sounds silly?”
Harry laughed. “I don't know, Geoff. He just might. Can I keep going?”
“Yup!”
Harry nodded. “As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.”
Geoffrey giggled at the description then yawned. Harry knew that by the time he finished Geoffrey would be sound asleep.
“He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,” Harry said, lowering his voice just a pitch as he saw Geoffrey’s eyelids begin to droop. “And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose,And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.” Harry cut off abruptly and jerked his head down at the little boy on Snape’s lap.
“Is he sleeping?” Snape muttered quietly, not daring to move his head for fear of waking the boy.
Harry nodded with a fond smile. “Want me to put him to bed?”
I am not incapable of handling a child, Harry.”
“Never said you were,” Harry said, shrugging lightly. “Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”
“Potter, you were never a good actor. Don’t think to start now. Now go open the door.”
Harry saluted and went to the door leading from the sitting room to the hall and opened it.
“Cheeky brat,” Snape grunted as Harry bowed low once Snape stepped through the doorway.
The twelfth thing of Christmas that's such a pain to me: Singing Christmas carols
“UNCLE HARRY! UNCLE SEV'RUS! WAKE UP!”
Harry’s eyes shot open as something heavy jumped on his chest causing the air to rush out of him. Dark eyes were shining bright with excitement at him.
“S’Christmas, Uncle Harry!” Geoffrey exclaimed, rolling off of him and onto Snape. Harry couldn’t imagine that Severus enjoyed that all too much and was quite correct when he felt the man tense beside him. Harry clasped his hand and squeezed gently, in both warning and sympathy. It was Christmas after all and he really shouldn’t have expected anything different from Geoffrey.
“Come here, Geoff,” Harry rasped as he struggled to get into a sitting position. He held out a hand and the boy bounced off Severus’s stomach and onto Harry’s lap. Harry ruffled Geoffrey’s hair then with a wicked grin, began to tickle the boy until he was breathless. He felt the mattress dip as Snape sat up then got off the bed to go to the bathroom.
“Is Uncle Severus angwy wif me?” Geoffrey asked, once Harry let up with the tickle attack.
“Course not, love. He’s just a mean grouchy bear this early in the morning.”
“M’sorry, Uncle Harry,” Geoffrey mumbled, his blond hair falling in unruly shambles over
his face. “Didn’ mean to wake you up early.”
Harry pecked the boy’s forehead and smiled reassuringly. “It’s Christmas, Geoff. Let’s go see what you got!”
Geoffrey immediately perked up and was off the bed in a manner seconds, leaving Harry to wake up just enough to scramble after him. He paused in the doorway to the parlor, noting with some amusement the mistletoe hanging above his head. He didn’t remember hanging that there himself and he knew Geoffrey didn’t have enough control on his magic to put it there so that left only one person. He rested his forearm against the door frame as Geoffrey crawled around the enormous tree, looking for gifts with his name on the tags. The five-year-old didn’t seem to have any problems finding the first one either.
He yawned silently leaning his forehead in the crook of his elbow. Strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him off the archway and backwards. Harry hummed gently as Snape rested his chin on top of his head.
“Geoffrey’s already in the presents I see.”
Harry grinned, inhaling deeply, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. If he turned around now, perhaps…
“Uncle Severus, can I open it now?” Geoffrey whined. Harry opened his eyes to see Geoffrey holding up a package with shiny silver foil. He smiled indulgently and nodded even as Snape murmured his acquiescence. There was a flurry of activity as Geoffrey tore into the wrapping gaily. His expression was one of utter joyous abandonment.
“Go join him,” Severus said softly, his hands moving to settle on Harry’s hips. He prodded Harry into the room, with a swat to the bottom. Harry’s mouth dropped in shock, but his eyes sparkled with delight. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it with a rueful grin.
“Look, Uncle Harry! Mama sent me a crystal ball!”
Harry laughed as Geoffrey held up a Remembrall. He sat down behind Geoffrey and tugged the boy onto his lap. His hand enclosed over the one Geoffrey was holding the device with and it immediately swirled red. Harry frowned at that and heard Snape’s deep chuckle from across the room.
Harry arched a brow in suspicion. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Snape smirked, dark eyes alight with mirth, but no answer was forthcoming. Something had happened the night before that Harry had missed completely, otherwise he would understand what Severus was finding so amusing.
“Was it supposed ta be glowy red like that, Uncle Harry?” Geoffrey asked, his eyes fixed firmly on the object in his hands. The color of the fog had gone back to a dull gray.
Harry nodded, his chin brushing against soft blond strands of hair. “Not all the time. Your mother or father ever tell you about Remembralls?”
Geoffrey’s face scrunched up in thought and Harry could see the exact moment when the name clicked. “Yeah, he said there was a boy in Hogwart’s who got one and that he was ways forgetting stuff.”
Harry rolled his eyes and swore he heard Snape stifling a laugh behind a cough. “That’s the one. When it goes red, it means you have forgotten something?”
Geoffrey’s eyes widened and he looked down at the sphere in his hands again. “Oh,” he said, turning it over and over in his hands. “What you forgettin’ then, Uncle Harry?”
“I have no clue, buddy, none at all.”
Geoffrey nodded. “Okay then.” He turned his attention back to the pile of waiting presents. He scooted off of Harry’s lap and began to investigate the pile. With Geoffrey distracted by his scavenger hunt for his own presents, Harry reached under the chair beside the chair and pulled out a slender box, wrapped in silver paper with a gold ribbon.
He fingered the edge of the box nervously, then stood up and crossed to where Snape had seated himself in his favorite wing backed chair. Harry gasped when he was pulled down onto the older man’s lap, a faint blush rising up his neck at Geoffrey’s giggles.
“I thought we agreed to not exchange gifts this year,” Snape growled low in his ear. Harry shivered and glanced up at the man sheepishly. It was rather hard to imagine Snape being angry with him when he had been the one to drag him down onto his lap.
“Yeah well,” Harry answered after a great length of time, his nervousness growing by leaps and bounds. It didn’t matter how long he had lived with the man, how long he had been together with him, he still didn’t know what Snape wanted for presents and the great git was obnoxiously close lipped about it as well. No amounts of prodding could get the man to ever tell Harry what it was he wanted as a gift.
Snape snorted, plucking the gift from Harry’s hands. Harry watched as the older man turned the gift over and over in his hands before flicking open one end of it and carefully pulling the slender box out.
“You got me jewelry?” Snape asked with an amused lit.
Harry grinned and rolled his eyes. “Course not, unless, you think I fancy you a girl?”
“I certainly hope not.”
Geoffrey giggled again, but tried to hide it by smacking a hand across his mouth when Harry turned to look at him. Harry winked at the boy earning a winning smile from Geoffrey who decided that the half opened gift in his hand warranted attention again. With Geoffrey was fully distracted again, Harry redirected his grin at Severus.
“Well, are you going to open it or not?” Harry teased, staring pointedly at the gift in Snape’s hand.
“Must I?”
Harry’s grin widened. “Well, if you don’t want it…” He made to take it back, but Snape held the box beyond Harry’s reach. Harry pushed himself off Snape’s lap and perched on the arm of the man’s chair so he could watch him open the box. It really wasn’t anything fancy, heck, he wasn’t even sure that Snape would like it or not, but despite that, he wasn’t half as nervous as he supposed he should be.
Nimble fingers opened the velvet-covered box to reveal a gold linked chain. Snape held it up examining it in the early morning light streaming through the window. He gazed at Harry quizzically and he flushed.
“Your other one broke,” he said in way of explanation, letting himself be tugged back onto Snape’s lap. “It was cheap and had come with your watch as a bonus and I thought I’d get you one that would last for that reason and mmph-” Chapped lips descended upon his own in a chaste kiss. Snape’s reached up and gently cradled the back of his head and Harry’s eyes slipped shut.
“Ew!” Geoffrey cried, causing Harry to jerk back and almost fall off Snape’s lap, if Snape hadn’t moved his hand down Harry’s back fast enough to catch him. Harry stared at the little boy dumbly. The blonde’s face was scrunched up in disgust and Harry felt a knot form in his stomach. That was until Geoffrey added, “Why do adults do that? Kissy stuff. S’icky!”
Harry blushed furiously causing Snape to snicker. “Perhaps to you, Geoffrey, but to adults it’s-”
Harry slapped a hand across Snape’s mouth preventing him from finishing that line of thinking. Snape gripped Harry’s wrist and removed his hand with a smirk.
“Why did you stop me?”
“Because I know what was going through that big gray brain of yours and Geoffrey doesn’t need to hear it,” Harry replied, yelping when Snape groped his ass. Geoffrey was looking at them oddly, but since it wasn’t disgust only confusion, Harry could only assume the boy had no idea what had just occurred. He sighed in a sad attempt to recollect himself and offered Geoffrey a reassuring smile, before nodding at the present in his hand. “What did you get?”
The child held up a green sweater with a large “G” in silver in the middle.
“A Weasley sweater,” Snape muttered sounding mildly shocked. Harry couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling shocked as well. He hadn’t told Molly that they had Geoff for the Hols but someone had to. Unless George suddenly shrunk and grew an extreme liking of Slytherin colors, there was no other explanation for the existence of that sweater.
“Who gave it to you, buddy?” Harry asked as curiously as possible. He watched Geoffrey rummage through the wrapping paper safely ensconced on Snape’s lap, wondering how much longer he’d be there until he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor.
With a triumphant smile, Geoffrey found the correct tag and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to make out the tag. “Geoffrey,” he read out loud to himself. “Merwy C-Chwistmas,” Geoffrey looked at Harry for confirmation and at his nod quickly went back to the tag. “From Mr. an’ Ms. Weaswey.” He put down the tag with a look of confusion and uncertainty. “Weaswey?”
“You remember Ron right?” Harry encouraged, “He was here when your mother and father dropped you off.”
“Papa didn’ like him lots. They yelled.”
Harry chuckled, “That he did.”
Severus coughed quietly and Harry decided that he’d slide off his lap and onto the floor before he was deposited there against his will. He beckoned Geoffrey over, who, sweater in hand, immediately came over and settled between Harry’s legs. Harry slipped the sweater on over the boy’s head and turned him around.
“Malfoy’s going to kill me,” said Harry with amusement, as he took in the full picture of the little blonde in the homemade sweater. He went about flattened Geoffrey’s hair and brushed a bit off the five-year-old’s face.
“Whaddo you mean, Uncle Harry?”
Harry pinched Geoffrey’s nose with his fingers and wiggled it a bit. “It’s nothing, Geoff.” Geoffrey giggled and tried to pull away and Harry let him go, tumbling back towards the presents.
“I wouldn’t let him,” Snape snarled.
Harry glanced up at him mischievously. “Possessive this morning, aren’t we?”
"You," Snape said pointing a long finger at him, "Should be in the kitchen preparing the ham."
His jaw dropped open and he groaned loudly. "Well f-"
"Tut-tut, Potter, are you forgetting there's a child in our presence?"
Harry leveled a glare at the man, his face going bright red. "Bugger off," he grumbled and headed into the kitchen, ignoring the soft laughter that followed him.
~*~
Two hours later, Harry finally allowed himself a break from cooking. Bloody hell, how could he have been so stupid, waiting until the last minute like this to start cooking. Hermione would have his head if she found out, not to mention Mrs. Weasley would take it upon herself to take over his kitchen and reorganize it so he'd never be able to find the pots and pans again. He sighed, leaving the spoon he had been stirring the pudding with on the counter top.
He reentered the sitting room silently, hoping he could sneak up on its current occupants and scare them senseless. He padded into the middle of the room, when a loud snore made him freeze. A small smile appeared on his face as he walked around the coffee table and saw Snape lying on the floor, Geoffrey safely ensconced in his arms. The little boy’s arms were halfway into his too big sweater. The fire was dimming from inattention, but a quick wave of Harry’s wand had it glowing and crackling merrily once more.
“Git,” Harry whispered, nudging the sole of Snape’s foot with his big toe lightly. He’d love to get down onto the floor and go back to sleep with them, but someone had to stay awake so the food didn’t burn. That was the last thing any of them needed, Malfoy criticizing their food.
“Brat,” came the sleepy mumble from below him. Harry glanced down and saw Snape shooting him a tired glare. There was a long pause as they just stared at one another before Harry broke out in a silly grin and backed away slowly, before racing out of the room to their bedroom. He felt more than heard Snape enter behind him and didn’t even bother to turn around as he searched through his clothing for something warm and casual but not scrappy.
He looked over his shoulder when he heard the quiet creak of the mattress springs. Snape settled Geoffrey onto the big bed soundlessly, covering him with half of the comforter. Onyx eyes flickered up to meet his and for a moment Harry couldn’t even breathe.. His fingers loosened their grip on the red wool sweater he was holding and it fell to the floor with a gentle thud as Snape came towards him. He licked his lips, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.
A warm hand grabbed his own and tugged him forward insistently. Harry staggered forward and followed Snape out into the hallway, waiting as the man jarred their bedroom door so they could still hear Geoffrey. He was led by hand towards the sitting room when they stopped.
Snape let go of his hand and stepped under the doorway. Harry’s eyes widened in shock as Snape pulled one of the tiny red berries off the sprig of mistletoe and held it out to Harry expectantly. A blush raced up Harry’s neck and filled his cheek with its red color as he took the berry and closed his hand around it. He took a step forward until he was standing in front of Snape. His head tilted back, eyes shining behind his glasses. Snape grabbed his hips and pulled him flush against him. Harry’s hands automatically twined around Snape’s neck in a practiced motion, which was incredibly satisfying.
Rising onto tiptoes, Harry brought his lips within a breath of Snape’s lips and stopped, eyes flickering up to meet the older man’s before he leaned forward the extra centimeter, brushing his lips along Snape’s. A moment passed unnoticed before Snape retaliated capturing his lips in a deep, soul-bearing kiss that begged for forgiveness, and spoke of love, that Harry returned whole heartedly.
They broke off when they heard the sounds of Geoffrey stirring in their bedroom. Harry buried his head under Snape’s chin with a contented sigh, his eyes drifting shut as the faint strains of The Twelve Days of Christmas softly sang from the kitchen.