Deligo Sanguis

Author’s Note: My apologies for this very looooooong overdue chapter. My muse abandoned me for a good long while, but it appears to have returned for the time being. I know where this is going, it’s getting it on paper that’s the trick. Hehehe. Here’s a nice long one for you, folks. I know it doesn’t make up for the long wait, but hopefully you enjoy it. Happy reading!

Chapter Eight

Yule Holiday

ONE

Harry walked away from Severus’ office slowly, going over the conversation in his mind. At first, he’d been angry that Severus was trying to dictate his life, until he found out why. He’d only been angry because he was worried. He was worried about what would happen to Harry. He was worried that Harry was in danger. He was worried about his son. This realization had sapped Harry’s anger faster than anything else could have done. Severus actually cared, and that frightened Harry to a degree, but it also made his heart swell with an emotion he never thought he’d feel again: he felt… happy.

“Hey,” Malfoy said from the open door of their usual deserted classroom. He was leaning against the doorframe casually, his hands clasped in front of him. “That didn’t take very long. I heard shouting. Everything okay?”

Harry looked at Malfoy for a long time before replying. “You know, I think it will be,” he said carefully but truthfully.

Malfoy raised his eyebrow in question, but Harry pretended not to notice. “You two getting along then, are you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say getting along, so much as we’re tolerating each other,” Harry replied. “I mean he is Snape, after all.”

“So what was all the shouting about?” Malfoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry didn’t miss the meaning of the gesture.

“Oh that,” Harry muttered, letting a dark look descend onto his face. “He heard us talking under the stairs.” At this, he gave Malfoy a pointed look. “He says I’m corrupting one of his precious Slytherins.” Harry always found that lies worked better if there was a grain of truth in them.

“Precious Slytherins?” Malfoy asked, his arms dropping to his side and an amused smirk sliding onto his face.

“Well, he didn’t actually say ‘precious’, but that’s what it came down to,” Harry quipped. He walked passed Malfoy into the classroom and sat down lazily on one of the chairs, slouching down low and letting his arms dangle over the arms of the chair. He propped his left leg up on the arm too and put a contented expression on his face.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, closed the door, crossed the room and hopped up onto a desk directly across from Harry, leaning forward on his hands, his legs swinging back and forth. They proceeded to stare at each other.

Harry observed the enigmatic Slytherin silently; taking in the curves of his face and the way his hair was falling. Malfoy’s face was calm, almost serene, as though there was nowhere in the world he would rather have been. A lone strand of his platinum hair was falling across his eye, which he didn’t seem to notice. He’d rolled the sleeves of his robes up slightly showing the muscles and tendons in his thin forearms as they seemed to strain with the slight weight he was putting on his hands. His eyes watched Harry patiently traveling across Harry’s features as though trying to memorize them; much the way Harry was memorizing him. The dark shadows from the room were playing across his face making him look incredibly innocent but incredibly sexy at the same time.

“So,” Malfoy said at last, his eyes fixing on Harry’s lips.

“So,” Harry replied unhelpfully.

“Should we just ask questions then?” Malfoy asked. “See how much we can learn?”

“That sounds good,” Harry said.

Another moment passed in silence before Malfoy said, “You go first.”

Harry thought for a long moment, wondering where the best place to start would be. “When’s your birthday?” he asked at last.

“My birthday?” Malfoy said incredulously as though he found this question out of line.

“Yes, your birthday.”

“Of all the things you could have asked me, you want to know when my birthday is.”

“Yes.”

Malfoy chuckled lightly. “March twenty-third. When’s yours?”

“July thirty-first.”

“July? So I’m older than you then?”

“A bit. I’m amazed they didn’t print it in a book somewhere.”

“They may have. I just skim the chapters where you’re mentioned.”

Harry laughed outright. “So do I,” he said.

Malfoy cracked a small smile. “My turn. If you could take a day off from your life, what would you do?”

Harry didn’t even need to think it over. “I would go flying,” he said.

“You’d play Quidditch?” Malfoy asked amazed.

“No, not Quidditch,” Harry replied. “I’d fly through the countryside and I wouldn’t come down until I absolutely could not hold onto my broom anymore.”

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully.

“What about you?” Harry asked. “What would you do?”

“I’d put on a glamour and go out on the town. I’d shop all day and no one would know who I was.”

Harry was surprised by the answer. He’d always assumed that Malfoy loved being who he was. He’d thought that Malfoy liked being rich and well known, especially when people were kissing up to him because of his wealth.

“What was your childhood like?” Harry asked.

“Well that’s a loaded question,” Malfoy commented.

“Just tell me the basics,” Harry said.

Malfoy thought about it. “I spent most of my time either alone or with my governess. Mother and Father are both very busy, you know. Father has many business contacts, and when I was growing up, he was still on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, so he was quite busy with that. Mother was the public face of the family. She’d throw parties for all of the affluent wizarding families. They loved me, I’ve no doubt of that, they just didn’t have a lot of time to show it, that’s all.

“Most of the time I had my nose in a book, learning all of the things Father insisted on me learning. I know how to speak Latin, Greek, German, French and Spanish. I took calligraphy courses until I started at Hogwarts, by which time my handwriting was flawless. I learned a lot of Dark Magic, as well as basic things like Wingardium Leviosa and such. I learned how to ride horses and play polo—“

“Isn’t that rather… Muggle?” Harry interrupted.

“I imagine our version of polo is a bit different from theirs,” Malfoy replied. “Anyway, Father knew that you and I would be in the same year here, so he wanted me to make friends with you. He said it would be beneficial to our family to have ourselves in your good graces.”

“Well, you fucked that up royally, I must say,” Harry said.

Malfoy frowned at him. “Father was most displeased by that. He told me I hadn’t tried hard enough.” He shrugged. “I didn’t care by then, though. I was angry with you for choosing a Weasley over me. I’d been taught my entire life that Weasleys were beneath me, even if they were purebloods. Hogwarts has been one disappointment after another since I started here. First you turned me down for friendship, and then you get picked for the Quidditch team in your first year, then you beat me in Quidditch the first time I played you, and that imposter Moody turned me into a ferret and made a fool of me in front of the whole school. It just never got any better until this year. I’ve never considered that perhaps you and I could be something other than enemies. I rather like this arrangement better.”

Harry was nodding his understanding of what Malfoy was saying. “So what made you decide—“

“Ah, ah, ah,” Malfoy interrupted, shaking his finger. “It’s my turn to ask something now.”

Harry chuckled and waved in acquiescence.

“Tell me about your childhood,” he said.

Harry had known that would be Malfoy’s next question. He proceeded to explain about the Dursleys and his lack of knowledge about the Wizarding world before coming to Hogwarts. (“What’s a zoo?”) He even told Malfoy about the hut on the rock in the middle of the ocean where Hagrid had finally found him (“What’s a rifle?”) and given him his letter. He told Malfoy about his summers away from Hogwarts, about Dobby (“Dobby went to your house?” ) sealing the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ and why they’d flown the car to school that year. He explained about Hermione’s time-turner (“She had a time-turner?”) in third year and how she and Harry had used it to rescue Sirius and Buckbeak (“So that’s what happened!”) before returning to the hospital wing and claiming they hadn’t been involved. (“Snape was furious about that, you know.”) He didn’t go into detail about certain things, such as the Third Task, or what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, but he thought that Malfoy had an idea about those events.

“Merlin’s beard, Potter,” Malfoy said when Harry had fallen silent. “You make my childhood sound frightfully dull.”

Harry scowled, looking down at a spot on the floor. “I wish mine had been dull,” he muttered.

“Is it true that Bellatrix killed Sirius Black?” Malfoy asked abruptly.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the pain of it out of his mind. He nodded without speaking, hoping that Malfoy would take the hint.

“You were close with him, weren’t you?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. “You could say that.”

Malfoy was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.

Harry’s head snapped up and he stared at Malfoy in surprise. “Thank you,” he said. He’d meant to say it in a strong voice, but it came out in a strained whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” Malfoy replied. He was looking at Harry strangely, as though he’d never seen him before. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t think I ever really hated you.”

Harry raised his eyebrow and said nothing. He was still trying to get his emotions back under control.

“I was jealous of you because you were famous, and people liked you. I didn’t think it was fair that the teachers all fawned over you, but now I think I know why they do.”

“And what’s your theory about that?”

“I think perhaps they’re trying to make your life a little easier because you’re the Dark Lord’s number one target.”

Harry snorted inelegantly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe,” he said. He was thinking about the prophecy. He hated the prophecy, but he hated Dumbledore more for keeping it from him for so long. Sirius might not have died if only Dumbledore had told him about that damned prophecy sooner. Sirius might not have died, too, if Dumbledore hadn’t kept Harry from Severus for so long. If Dumbledore had come clean about Harry’s parentage as soon as Lily and James had been killed, maybe Sirius would have able to get on with his life. If Dumbledore hadn’t gone along with Lily’s trick to begin with, Sirius need never have wasted twelve years of his life in Azkaban. He shook his head in an attempt to banish the horrid thoughts and turned his gaze back to Malfoy, who was looking at him with some concern.

“So what made you decide that you wanted to get together with me?” Harry asked, trying to distract Malfoy’s attention from the topic at hand.

Malfoy leaned back on his hands, looking at Harry oddly. “You’re beautiful,” he said after a moment.

Harry was so surprised by this that he stared blankly for almost a whole minute. “What?”

Malfoy chuckled a bit. “You’re beautiful and you don’t even know it. Beautiful people who don’t know they’re beautiful are sexy. You’re very sexy.”

Harry’s eyebrow went up. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Don’t I tell you often enough?”

“You do, I just… never thought that you were serious.”

“Well I was.”

Harry swallowed. He felt somehow honored that Malfoy could say such a thing to him. He felt that their question and answer session had come to its end. He wanted to show Malfoy his appreciation. He rose slowly, gracefully putting his limbs back in order, and crossed to Malfoy’s perch on the table. He gently ran his hand down Malfoy’s face, staring into those gray eyes he was coming to adore. He knew it wasn’t healthy to care for Malfoy as much as he did, but he simply couldn’t banish the feelings from his heart.

TWO

There were emotions Draco couldn’t identify swirling in those emerald eyes he’d fallen in love with. He barely knew anything about Harry, but he knew without a doubt that he was in love. How couldn’t he be, when Harry was so deep? He had to force himself to keep from shivering as those gentle fingers caressed his face.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured. He leaned down and captured Draco’s mouth in a kiss before the blonde could reply. This kiss was nothing like the many kisses they’d shared since the beginning of the year. Those kisses had been heated and frantic, full of animal desire and lust. This kiss was everything those kisses were not: slow, probing, deep… caring, it took Draco’s breath away and his hands found their way to the back of Harry’s head, pulling the Gryffindor closer as they both moaned their mutual pleasure.

“Take me, Draco,” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear when he’d moved his kisses to Draco’s neck. “Show me.”

Draco pulled back to look into Harry’s eyes, seeing trust and need there, but also something he couldn’t describe and was too frightened to look deeper for. He nodded his acquiescence of Harry’s quiet plea and rose from the desk, pulling Harry closer to him.

As he stood before his partner, he toyed with Harry’s buttons. “Let me undress you, Harry,” he murmured. “You’ve never let me undress you before.”

“Yes,” Harry said, though it came out as more of a gasp.

As Draco slowly popped each button, kissing Harry’s jaw and neck as he did so, he couldn’t help but reflect upon their most recent encounters. Harry had been having more and more trouble climaxing each time they had sex. Draco thought it had something to do with that unrecognizable emotion he’d seen in Harry’s eyes. He’d also noticed that Harry’s rough play had softened considerably. He’d taken to gently preparing Draco before engaging and making it last as long as possible before allowing either of them to come.

“Touch me, Draco,” Harry murmured as Draco pushed his robe off of his shoulders.

Draco pushed his hands up underneath Harry’s too big tee shirt and rubbed on the hardened nipples he found there. Harry gasped gently and arched into Draco’s hands. Harry’s hands moved to Draco’s robes and began to pull the buttons open, their mouths meeting in another deep kiss, their tongues dancing over each other in mutual understanding and need.

Draco gasped when Harry’s hands met his bare skin. “Yes!” he said, without being aware he’d done so. He spelled the floor clean and softer than it should have been, gently lowering Harry down onto his back. Draco removed the jar of lubricant from his robes and dipped his fingers in, rubbing his hands together to warm it a bit.

“Please, Draco,” Harry moaned breathlessly. “Please. I want to feel you. Please.” Between each appeal, Harry placed a kiss on Draco’s neck or jaw, his hands touching everything they could find. Though the words were pleading in nature, it didn’t sound like begging. It sounded more like murmured requests.

Draco’s nerves were on fire with the passion he felt for the beautiful being beneath him. Slowly and gently, Draco inserted one finger into Harry’s tight entrance, moving it in a small circle to help loosen the muscle a bit. Harry was very still beneath him.

“Relax, lover,” Draco cooed, petting Harry’s chest and stomach gently with his free hand. “It’ll feel better if you relax.” Harry nodded, and took a deep breath. Draco felt Harry’s muscles relax around his finger. He began stroking again, looking for that amazing bundle of nerves that would light Harry on fire. He knew when he’d found it, because Harry gasped sharply. Draco took this opportunity to push a second finger inside. He took it slowly until he had four fingers inside Harry.

“Now, Draco,” Harry murmured. “I’m ready.”

Draco nodded, bent forward and kissed Harry deeply. As he did so, he positioned himself and pushed in slowly, coming up at the tight heat surrounding him. “Dear spirits above, you feel like heaven,” he muttered, bending to kiss Harry again. He pushed all the way in and then stilled to allow Harry time to get used to the invasion.

Harry brought his legs up to his chest, placing Draco’s hands on his knees so that they’d stay there, causing Draco to slide another inch inside. “I’m ready now,” Harry murmured after a moment.

Draco pulled out until only the head remained inside and then pushed slowly back in, angling himself differently, looking for Harry’s hot spot. After several equally painfully slow thrusts, he found it.

“God, yes,” Harry whispered, throwing his head back and exposing his beautifully pale throat. Draco removed his hands from Harry’s knees, and Harry’s legs immediately wrapped around his waist. Draco bent forward, keeping his thrusts slow and even, and began laving Harry’s neck hungrily. Never before had he made love with anyone, but he was sure that was what he was doing now, and he loved it. Nothing could compare to the feeling of Harry warm and willing beneath him, nothing, except Harry warm and willing inside of him, which was most welcome. This thought caused him to speed his thrusting slightly.

“You feel so good, Draco,” Harry murmured, treating Draco’s neck to several kisses and a few gentle bites.

“Yes, Harry,” Draco cried, flexing his hips so that he was as deep inside as he could possibly be.

“Harder,” Harry whispered, now meeting Draco thrust for thrust. Draco complied, but he didn’t go too fast, wanting this to last as a long as possible. Harry arched up beneath him, keening prettily as he did so, drawing a moan from Draco. After a while, Draco couldn’t hold back anymore, and he began moving faster and deeper, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.

“Touch yourself, Harry,” Draco exclaimed. “I can’t last much longer. Touch yourself for me.”

Harry’s right hand immediately went to his hardened sex, stroking it faster than Draco was thrusting. Draco knew that Harry was close by those quick strokes, so he began thrusting faster still.

Harry’s back arched up off of the floor as his body clenched painfully around Draco, his essence spilling between them in copious spurts. “Draco,” he cried quietly, still stroking himself, but not as quickly now.

Draco gave five more frantic thrusts, and then he was spilling himself deep inside of Harry’s body, quivering with the strength of his climax.

He collapsed, completely sated, and proceeded to layer kisses over Harry.

Harry was stroking his back gently with his fingers. “Amazing,” he whispered.

Draco could only nod as he attempted to get back his breath.

“Beautiful,” Harry went on.

Draco lifted his head enough to see Harry. “Am I still ugly?” he asked uncertainly. He’d never admit it, but when Harry had called him ugly so long ago, it had hurt Draco’s feelings.

“No, not ugly,” Harry replied, kissing the shell of Draco’s ear. “Not ugly.”

Draco gathered his energy and rolled off of Harry, grunting slightly when he hit the floor. Harry rolled onto his side and placed his head on Draco’s chest. “Not ugly,” he said again.

Draco placed his arms around Harry and pulled him closer. “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“What does this make us now?”

“I guess it makes us lovers.” Harry was tracing small circles on Draco’s chest.

Draco smiled a bit. “I like that,” he said. He kissed the top of Harry’s head and closed his eyes, intending to rest for just a moment before they left the classroom. He drifted off to sleep with Harry held securely in his arms and had pleasant dreams.

THREE

Severus was walking down the corridor quietly, on his way to lunch, when he heard a soft whimper from a door to his left. He opened the door curiously, wondering whom it could be. When he saw his son in Draco Malfoy’s arms, both boys asleep peacefully, he had to suppress a gasp. Hearing about Harry having sex was one thing; actually seeing it was something else all together. Harry was whimpering a little in his sleep, but Draco’s arms tightened around him and he calmed.

Severus ran a hand over his eyes tiredly and sighed heavily. He didn’t like this, not at all. Draco had been raised by one of the coolest liars Severus had ever met. It only stood to reason that he’d have taught his son the same trick. This was conflicting with the thought that it would be hard to maintain such a façade when he was asleep. Severus sighed again and conjured a light blanket, which he placed over the two sleeping boys. Harry snuggled in closer to Draco when the blanket settled over him. Severus decided that he’d have to find out how much Harry knew and understood about sex. He was not looking forward to that conversation.

He walked to the Great Hall silently, his mind swimming with worries about his child. He hardly noticed that there was only one table as he sat down and placed his napkin over his lap. He was vaguely aware of Albus’ eyes on him, but he didn’t care much about that. He highly doubted that the two boys would show for lunch, and sure enough, by the end of the meal both boys had still not arrived.

“Severus, a word if you would,” Albus said as Severus rose to head back to his quarters. He glanced at Albus warily before giving a sharp nod of his head.
He and Albus walked back to Albus’ office in a tight silence that was only broken by the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.

“Have a seat, Severus,” Albus said once they’d reached his office.

Severus sat in the blue star-spangled monstrosity and clasped his hands in his lap. “What is it, Albus?” he asked impatiently.

Albus sat down and observed Severus serenely for a long moment. “Would you like some tea?” he asked. “Or a sherbet lemon?”

“We just had lunch, Albus,” Severus grated. “Perhaps if we could get on with it?”

“I’m just being courteous,” Albus replied. “I’ve called you here because I am worried for Harry.”

“Why?” Severus asked, thinking that perhaps Albus knew something he did not.

“He seems very withdrawn this year, compared to years past.”

“He’s had a difficult time of it, Albus. Surely you didn’t expect him to come back here all smiles and giggles after what happened in June?”

“No, I didn’t expect that. He’s never been all smiles and giggles, Severus. Unfortunately, he seems to have gone into depression. His teachers inform me that he almost never talks in class anymore, whether it be to answer a question or a whispered conversation with his friends. He hardly seems to care about anything and that bothers me.”

Severus stared at the old man for a long moment. “ That bothers you?” he asked, unable to stop himself. “You – you’re – that’s the most idiotic thing I have ever heard!” he spluttered, anger rising rapidly in his chest.

“Surely it worries you, Severus?” Albus asked.

“Of course it worries me!”

“Then I must say that I’m quite confused by your reaction.”

“Of all the numerous things you’ve done to him and that is what bothers you,” Severus muttered, just loud enough for Albus to hear him. “You foisted him on a family who didn’t want him, you manipulated him into facing the Dark Lord on several occasions, you took away his family, you didn’t tell him why it was so important for him to learn Occlumency and now you’re worried because he doesn’t care about anything. It’s your fault that he doesn’t care!”


Albus sighed deeply and lowered his head. “I have already spoken to him about those things,” he said. “I have tried to explain to him why I did the things I’ve done. Must I justify myself to you as well?”

“I just want to know one thing,” Severus replied.

“I will tell you if I can.”

“Why? I want to know why. You claimed to be my friend. You claimed that I could trust you with anything. I gave up my life and my family to spy for you, in an attempt to bring some kind of order back to this world, and you took the one thing that would have made my life mean something. That child is all I have left. He’s the only reason I wake up in the morning! I’ve watched over him for all these years because he was Lily’s baby. I watch over him now because he is my baby. And I’ll tell you this Albus, if I’d known that he was mine before this, with all of the things you have allowed to happen to him I would have pulled him out of this school by now. I’m sure that any other parent would agree with me. I deserve to know why you’ve done this to us.”

“Us?” Severus had never seen Albus look so very sad, but he didn’t care at that moment. All he cared about was finding out the truth. He’d been avoiding Albus for months simply because he didn’t want to hurt his mentor and friend, but he needed to know.

“Yes, us, ” he said. “Harry and me. Us. ”

Albus sighed and poured himself a cup of tea. He took a sip, watching Severus over the rim of his cup before setting it down on the desk. “Harry was already a target before he was born,” he said.

Severus stared at the man in utter shock. Of all the things Albus could have said, this one was a reason that gave him even less excuse to remove Harry from his father.

“I assure you that when I asked you to spy for the Order, I did not know that Lily was with-child. I never would have suggested it had I known. By the time Lily informed me of the situation, you had already gone to the Death Eaters to be incorporated into their ranks. I knew that if I told you about Harry, you would attempt to leave the Death Eaters and talk some sense to Lily. If you’d tried to leave, Voldemort would have killed you without question. Harry was already Voldemort’s number one target, and James was always better with a wand than you were.”

“Why was Harry a target?”

Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning his gaze on Severus again. “There was a prophecy made,” he replied.

“I’ve heard of this prophecy, but I do not know what it contains.”

“It stated that the one who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord would be born at the end of July. It goes on to say that the Dark Lord would mark this child as his equal. The most important part, however is when it states ‘either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.’ ”

Severus felt light headed. “You kept him from me because the Dark Lord wanted him dead over this stupid prophecy? You thought that James Potter would be a better protector?”

“James didn’t have as much of an emotional investment as you would have,” Albus said. “He’d taken an oath to care for and protect Harry to the best of his ability. He died to give your son life, Severus.”

“What about after?” Severus asked. “Once the Dark Lord was gone and James and Lily were dead, why didn’t you bring Harry to me then, rather than to his Muggle relatives?”

“As you know, Lily died to protect Harry,” Albus replied. “Her only blood relation left is her sister, Petunia Dursley. He is protected with blood magic as long as he returns to her once a year.”

“He’s my blood as well.”

“But you are not Lily’s blood. The relative must be Lily’s blood relative for the protective charms to remain intact. It’s important for Harry to be safe.”

“So you’re telling me that even though we both know the truth now, you’re still going to send him back to his Muggles this summer. You’re not going to let him stay with me.”

“Severus, when Voldemort fell the entirety of our world was thrown into disarray. The Death Eater trials were a complete fiasco and many of them were never apprehended.”

Severus forced himself to remain calm and turned to look out of the window so he wouldn’t have to see those sad blue eyes.

“Just because Voldemort fell does not mean that I stopped watching those who got away. Many of them were watching you. ”

Severus turned to Albus with wide eyes.

“You started working at Hogwarts a year before Harry was born. They did not trust you. They wanted proof that you weren’t loyal. I spoke for you at the Wizengamot trials. If I’d given you Harry after Lily was killed, they would have known, and they would have come for you. There is no doubt in my mind that if I’d given him to you then, both of you would be dead now. I was trying to protect you as much as I was protecting him. I didn’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

Severus turned back to the window, his mind swimming with this new information.

“Their children watch you now, Severus,” Albus went on. “They themselves cannot watch you at Hogwarts, but their children can and do. It is imperative that no one finds out that you are Harry’s father. I told you that I would find a temporary arrangement and I will, but ask you to be patient. The second war has begun. It is only a matter of time before Voldemort makes his next move. I ask you to keep your son’s safety in mind, despite how much you may want him with you.”

Severus nodded silently, a feeling of complete loss and misery settling over his heart. He’d been making plans to return to his ancestral home, to clean it and prepare it to house a family once again. He never expected that, after everything he’d discovered, he’d have to remain at Hogwarts without his son. He understood now though, and he couldn’t let his own selfish desire to be near his child put Harry’s life in danger. “I understand,” he said after a long moment. “I will not do anything rash.”

Albus nodded a bit and sat back in his chair. “I’m sorry to have done this to you, Severus, but there was no other way; it was the only thing I could think to do that would keep both of you safe. Please forgive an old man his conscious.”

Severus closed his eyes as his sense of misery increased. “Thank you for telling me,” he murmured. “I have things I must do. May I go?”

Albus nodded. “Go, Severus, and try to enjoy your holiday.”

FOUR

Christmas day dawned bright and beautiful at Hogwarts. Harry sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he looked up, he started, for Severus was sitting on Dean’s bed watching him.

“How’d you get in here?” Harry asked.

“I’m a professor, Harry,” Severus replied. “I have access to all of the common rooms in case of emergency.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Harry said.

Severus chuckled lightly, raising his wand and pointing it to a corner of the dorm. “Accio presents!” he said and a small pile of gifts came zooming toward him, landing neatly at his feet. “I figured since this is the first Christmas we’d have as father and son, we could open our gifts together.”

Harry smiled at his father. “Okay,” he said.

“You open one first,” Severus said, gesturing toward Harry’s small stack of gifts.

Harry reached to the end of his bed and randomly picked up a gift. “This one’s from Ron,” he said. He pulled the small piece of parchment off of the front and read it out loud.

Harry,

I know you already have one of these, but I figured you might need more room to record new memories. I hope you like it.

Ron.

Curious now, Harry tore the paper from the gift and a handsome, leather bound photo album was revealed. It was pure black and in a square on the cover was a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione from their third year. Harry flipped the book open and found a few pictures from years past, the last one being the front page of The Quibbler in which Harry had given his interview the previous year. “Wow, Ron,” he whispered.

“May I?” Severus asked, reaching a hand out for the album. Harry passed him the album and watched as Severus slowly flipped through it. “This is a very thoughtful gift,” he said after several moments.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Erm, you open one now.”

“Very well,” Severus said, passing the album back to Harry, who carefully placed it on his night table.

Severus reached down to his pile and picked a long, rectangular box from the stack. “This one will be from Minerva,” he said. He pulled a tiny card from the box and read:

To: The Snarky Git

From: The Mangy Feline

Harry started giggling.

“Yes, this is Minerva’s,” Severus agreed with himself, ignoring Harry’s giggling and opening the gift. It was a bottle of sherry. “Ah, she has magnificent taste,” Severus commented, reading the label.

Harry, still giggling, reached for another gift from his pile. He lifted a large heavy gift and knew immediately that it was Hermione’s yearly book.

Dear Harry,

I thought that this might come in handy soon. Happy Christmas.

Love from,

Hermione

Harry pulled off the paper, and sure enough, a large tome was revealed. It said Curses and Their Defenses to Keep You and You’re Family Safe by Millicent Grumble.

“That’s an excellent book,” Severus commented, watching Harry closely. “You should study it carefully.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” Harry agreed, flipping randomly before waving for Severus to open his next gift.

Severus grabbed a small box from the stack. “This one is from Albus,” he said. “That man never leaves a card or note.”

Harry chuckled as Severus tore off the lurid purple with yellow stars wrapping paper. “Ah, a potions journal,” Severus muttered. “He always seems to know when I need a new one.”

“Potions journal?” Harry asked.

“When I do experiments, it helps to have a book to record results in,” Severus explained. “My current journal is nearly filled. This will come in handy for me.”

Harry nodded and grabbed the next gift from his pile. “Oh,” he muttered, fingering the small package. “This one’s from, er, Draco.” He glanced at his father nervously only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Open it then,” he said, but his voice was less than warm.

Harry nodded and opened the gift, which was wrapped in pure black paper with a silver bow. Inside was a small jewel box, which he snapped open. He lifted the delicate chain from the box until the small dragon pendant was level with his eyes. It was of an intricate design, it’s wings poised as though to take flight, it’s glittering diamond eyes seemingly watching Harry. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“It is,” Severus agreed, but he was squinting at the pendant in a suspicious manner. “May I see it?”

Harry silently passed it over and watched as Severus cast several spells over it, his dark eyebrows going up in surprise. “It’s layered in protective spells,” he said, handing the chain back to Harry.

“Protective spells?” Harry asked. “I wonder if he’s expecting me to be attacked or something.”

Severus was still gazing at the pendant and didn’t answer. He seemed to be having an internal debate about something, but the next moment he’d reached down and grabbed his next gift. “It seems I have found yours,” he said.

Harry blushed. “I, erm, didn’t know what to get you,” he muttered.

Severus opened the package and a home care kit fell into his hand. It had a handsome leather case inside of which he found a bottle of Muggle clarifying shampoo, conditioner for fine hair, body wash, and shave cream. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Severus asked, but he sounded more playful than offended.

“No,” Harry replied. “I told you, I didn’t know what to get.”

Severus chuckled and set Harry’s gift aside. Harry pulled another from his stack. “This one’s from Mrs. Weasley.” It was his usual Weasley jumper and three mince pies.

“Does she believe that the school is attempting to starve you?” Severus asked with amusement.

“She always thinks that I’m too thin,” Harry said. “I imagine she’s trying to fatten me up.”

Severus chuckled. He opened his next, which was from Professor Flitwick and turned out to be a set of scales charmed to chide you if you measured something wrong. Severus scowled at it and said that Flitwick was probably laughing when he wrapped it.

Harry’s next was three pairs of mismatched socks from Dobby.

“Why don’t they match?” Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, well, Dobby thinks that socks are supposed to be mismatched,” Harry replied.

Severus chuckled and reached for his next, the last one he had in his pile. It was an astrology guide from Professor Sinistra. Severus said it would help him when he was looking for fresh ingredients for his potions.

The next gift in Harry’s pile was from Severus. It consisted of three pairs of self-sizing Muggle jeans and three designer jumpers; one green, one red and one black.

“I figured you could use some clothes that fit,” Severus explained as Harry pulled the clothing out of the box.

Harry’s last was from Fred and George, who tended to give presents in tandem rather than one from each. It was a large package of some of their newer gags from their joke shop. Their note informed him to lighten up and wreak some havoc for them.

“Just don’t use it in my class,” Severus requested, referring to the Skiving Snack Box included in the package.

“I won’t,” Harry replied. He doubted he’d use the Snack Box in any class, but he put the lot into his trunk.

Severus’ eyes were wandering around the dormitory now and they landed on Dean’s West Ham poster, at which he stared with a dubious expression. He reached out and poked the goalie’s eye experimentally.

“It’s a Muggle poster,” Harry said, trying not to laugh.

“Why don’t they move?” Severus asked, poking the goalie again.

“Muggles don’t have potions to develop their photographs in,” Harry replied. “It takes a lot of work for them to create moving pictures, and then you need a machine to make them move.”

“How very odd,” Severus commented. He stopped poking the picture and read the top. “What is that, ‘football’?” he asked.

“It’s a game,” Harry replied.

“Hm,” Severus said. He stood up and motioned for Harry to follow him. “Let’s go play some chess.”

Harry shrugged and followed Severus out of the room.

FIVE

Draco was disappointed when Harry didn’t show for breakfast. As he was leaving the Great Hall, he froze, watching Harry and Snape come down the marble staircase together, chatting amicably. Snape had a bottle of something in his hand and Harry seemed to be explaining it to him.

Draco frowned deeply. What was going on? Harry had told him at the beginning of the holiday that he and Snape still weren’t getting along. They were ‘tolerating each other’, he’d said. It looked as though they were on pretty good terms from where Draco was standing. Neither of them noticed him there.

After the unlikely duo had disappeared down the stairs, Draco made his way back to Slytherin, still frowning over what he’d seen. He wished he could have heard what they were talking about, but he figured he could use Harry’s gift to find out. He entered his bedroom and lifted the large box from its place next to his desk. Opening it and pulling the ball from its tissue bedding, he carried it to the common room and made himself comfortable on the leather couch. This gift had him wondering at first because it looked just like a crystal ball, except the fog inside was poison green instead of gray and it was larger, almost the size of a Quaffle. Harry’s note had explained it though.

Dear Draco,

I know what you’re thinking, but don’t jump to conclusions just yet. This is a Seeing Ball. It will show you whatever you ask, as long as the area in which the event is happening hasn’t been protected with spells against spying. For example: if you want to see what I do after I hop into bed at night, just say ‘Show me Harry James Potter’ and you’ll see me. You have to be specific though because there could be a million people called ‘Harry’ in the Ball’s seeing range. I hope you like it.

Yours,

Harry

P.S. To turn it off, say ‘enough’ or else it’ll just follow the person around all day.

Draco decided this was a good excuse to test his newest possession. “Show me Harry James Potter,” he said clearly, holding the large ball up to his eyes. The green smoke swirled faster and faster until it stopped and formed itself into words. ‘Harry James Potter is in a secured location,’ it informed him.

“Damn it,” Draco muttered, figuring that he should have known that Snape would spell his office. He carefully placed the orb on the table in front of him and leaned back, staring at the ceiling blankly. ‘What are those two up to?’ he wondered. He couldn’t imagine what could make them speak so casually to each other. Usually when Snape looked at Harry, he was sneering maliciously and docking House points from Gryffindor. Why was he being so friendly all of a sudden?

With a sigh, Draco decided that brooding wasn’t going to get him anywhere and took out his Transfiguration assignment, the only bit of holiday homework he had left to finish, and began to work on it. It took him nearly two hours to finish because he kept having to go back to his book and look things up. Once he was finished, he decided that he’d given Harry plenty of time to make it back to his dorm. He picked up the orb again and said, “Show me Harry James Potter.”

The smoke swirled again, faster and faster until it stopped and formed itself into words. ‘Harry James Potter is in a secured location.’

“Still?” Draco asked. What were they doing for so long? He grumbled under his breath, angry that Harry couldn’t even spare a moment for him on Christmas day. He planned on letting Harry know just what he thought of that. Draco lazed about for a bit longer, trying to find things to distract himself, until he decided to try one more time. He lifted the orb and said once again, “Show me Harry James Potter.”

The green mist swirled faster and faster until it looked like a green blur and then a window seemed to open inside the orb.

Harry was standing in the corridor outside of Snape’s office, facing the open door. “No, I’m busy tonight,” he was saying.

“With Draco?” Snape’s voice asked from inside the door. Draco frowned deeply. Snape didn’t request that you come to see him; he demanded that you show up or face the consequences.

“Yeah,” Harry said, fidgeting slightly and a small blush coming to his cheeks. “It is Christmas and he’s probably already upset that I haven’t seen him yet today.”

“Damn right,” Draco said.

“You just remember what I told you,” Snape warned. “I don’t want you—“

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “Don’t worry so much about it. We both know what we’re doing.”

“I hope you’re right. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas.”

“Thanks, you do the same.” The door closed and Harry began moving down the corridor, his head down and a pensive expression on his face. Draco said, “Enough” and placed the orb back on the table, its green mist swirling lazily once again. What was going on? He was very frustrated. He knew something was happening between Snape and Harry, but he didn’t want to think about what it could be. He decided to intercept Harry and confront him about it.

SIX

Harry was surprised when he reached the Entrance Hall and saw Draco leaning against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, moving toward the blonde.

“Do you know what bloody time it is?” Draco snapped at him.

Harry flinched; he knew Draco was going to be upset. “Almost four, I think,” he replied casually.

“That’s right! Why have you been in Snape’s office for five hours?”

Harry’s eyebrow went up. “Been keeping tabs on me, have you?”

“I saw you this morning heading down there, all chatty with the snarky git. I was under the impression that you hated each other.”

Harry sighed and moved closer to his irate lover. “We tolerate each other,” he said, attempting to touch Draco’s cheek, but Draco moved his head away.

“Tolerate?” he asked skeptically.

“Well yeah,” Harry replied. “It’d be difficult for both of us if we couldn’t stand to be in the same room together, wouldn’t it? We called a sort of truce. He’d stop hating me for shit I didn’t do, and I’d stop hating him even though he actually did the shit I hate him for. It works out.”

Draco didn’t say anything, but his lips pursed together into a thin line.

“Look, it’s just until the end of the year, when I won’t have detentions with him anymore.”

“I don’t like it.”

Harry came to a realization then. Draco was jealous! Jealous of Snape! “Why not?” he asked carefully. “Its just detention.”

“He’s evil, Harry!” Draco snapped. “Who knows what he’s making you do down there? I mean, what could you have been doing for five hours?”

“You’re not suggesting that Snape and I are… involved, are you?”

“How do I know if you’re not?”

Harry couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through his body. “Snape’s not even good looking!” he exclaimed. “And besides that, he went to school with my father! That’s just… wrong! Ew! How could you even think such a thing?” It wouldn’t do to tell Draco that Snape was his father.

“Well, you don’t exactly come from your detentions looking upset,” Draco pointed out. “What am I supposed to think?”

Harry raised his hand and began unconsciously playing with the pendant Draco had given him, which was hanging around his neck. “Draco, you’re the only one I’m with,” he said patiently. “Besides, if Snape tried to touch me that way, I’d tell Dumbledore. I may have a hero complex, but I’m not entirely stupid. I know what sexual abuse is.”

Draco’s hands fell to his sides as he watched Harry playing with the pendant. “Did you like my gift then?” he asked softly.

Harry stepped closer and took the blonde’s face between his hands. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco replied. He leaned forward and kissed Harry gently. “I’m sorry. I was just pissed off at you.”

“I thought you might be,” Harry said. “Happy Christmas, by the way.”

Draco chuckled. “Happy Christmas,” he said. They spent the rest of the day together. The last of the holiday went smoothly; Harry spent the night in Draco’s room on Christmas night, chuckling about the green and black décor in the Slytherin common room. The day before the students were due to return, Draco spent the day in the Gryffindor common room, lounging about with Harry and doing… other things. He’d be sad to see the holidays end.