After much thought, I decided to post this story because its December and this story has a Christmas theme. This particular story might be done, but it spawned a sequel that is not. While this is the first real project post, I believe that the sequel to this story will be my second project, not the first. This will just give you something complete to read in the mean time. This part of the story has a rating of PG-13, but the sequel will likely have a higher rating. The idea for this particular story – in way of the theme Ghosts of Christmas – actually came from perusing a site that I was not a member of. They had a challenge called Ghosts of Christmas in which they requested participants to write a story similar to A Christmas Carol. This was the idea that struck me.
Summary: Severus is visited by the Ghosts of Christmas.
Warnings: Attempted Suicide
The Greatest Gift of All
Severus stood watching the boy from the shadows. He had been keeping an eye on him, as promised, ever since Albus had died. The Ministry was no longer looking for him; Minerva, who was now the Hogwarts Headmistress had found Albus’ pensieve with an explanation of what had occurred. She informed the Ministry of his demand that Severus was not to be prosecuted or sent to Azkaban for following orders.
Minerva also led the Order now, and they had fixed it so that Voldemort and his followers still believed that everyone continued their search for the Potions Master. All the while, Severus had been allowed to retain his position at Hogwarts no matter how the boy had protested. Severus smiled to himself. Now some would think that the students of Hogwarts would be writing home to out their most hated professor, but that was not the case.
Minerva had Professor Flitwick cast the Fidelius charm on him, effectively making it possible for him to continue teaching his classes. The students were allowed to see him as long as they were in class, but after passing the threshold of the Potions classroom, they only retained the information they had gathered during the class, not who was teaching it. Only the teachers, Order, Ministry and Harry knew where he was. Severus wondered if Minerva had really been in Gryffindor during her time here at Hogwarts, for the idea was quite Slytherin in nature.
“Ah, good evening Severus,” Minerva said quietly as she walked up beside him, her expression turning bittersweet when she followed his gaze to the boy sitting by the giant tree in the Great Hall near the fireplace. The tree was one of many in the hall, but Harry always chose to sit by the one near the fire every Christmas.
Severus gave a start, not having paid attention, and he grunted in response.
Minerva sighed as she watched the boy beneath the tree. It had been hard on him to return this year. She knew he hadn’t wanted to, that he had wanted to go off and search for the remaining Horcruxes, but she had been relentless in his letters from the school, and had promised him that the Horcruxes would be found and dealt with by the Order, but insisted that he return to the school to complete his training.
Also during the summer break, she had appointed various Order members to stay with him as he mourned Albus’ loss, much to the chagrin of the Dursleys, who were forced to treat him like one of the family while the other witches and wizards were staying at their house. They had learned a lot about Harry then, especially by his reactions to the Dursleys, mostly shock when they called him for dinner when they ate, or that he wasn’t awoken at ungodly hours to start his chores, but allowed to sleep in like Dudley. It was obvious to those that paid attention that the boy had not lived the pampered life the Wizarding world was led to believe.
Minerva sighed and turned her gaze to Severus, who was still watching the boy. Then, there were those who stubbornly refused to see what was right in front of them.
“You know, Severus,” she said kindly, and he turned to look at her to find her eyes twinkling as Albus’ once had.
He groaned and closed his eyes briefly, wondering if she knew she was twinkling. “What?” Severus asked coldly before returning his gaze to the boy.
“It is just that I often wonder why you seem to hate him so much. I think that he has proved several times over that he is not like James.” Severus blinked in surprise, turning to her once more. “Yes,” she continued. “I know that you two did not get on very well. Tell me, Severus, why do you bear such animosity toward him?”
“And why shouldn’t I?” Severus returned. “Why should I treat him like every other imbecile in the Wizarding world does? He has everything given to him on a silver platter, and is nothing but a spoilt brat. Be glad that I am upholding my promise to Albus and still watch over him whether he likes it or not.”
Minerva shook her head, looking at him with sorrow-filled eyes. “Things aren’t always as they seem, Severus,” she said softly. “You of all people should know that. Good night.” She placed her hand on his arm briefly, then turned and exited the Hall.
Severus watched Harry for a while longer before heading to his rooms to get some sleep. Going through his nightly routine, he prepared for bed and read for a while. It was then that he heard it, or thought he did; the soft rattle of chains. He looked around, but didn’t see anything, and yet, an uneasy feeling settled over him as he returned to his book.
A few minutes later, he knew he’d definitely heard something, and snapped his book shut, looking around the darkened chamber. “Hello, my boy,” the sad voice of Albus reached him, and he gave a start when he saw the man materialize before him wearing heavy chains. His robes were shabby and torn, his long hair and beard were matted and dingy, even his eyes had lost their damnable twinkle.
“Albus?” Severus asked in surprise, taking in his mentor’s abhorrent appearance. “What happened to you?”
Albus gave him a withered smile, his eyes still refusing to sparkle. He sighed and sat down at the foot of Severus’ bed. “I am damned, Severus,” he said sadly.
“Damned?” Severus asked in disbelief. “But why? You’re a good, kind man, why would you be damned?”
Albus smiled at Severus’ compliment, but his eyes remained dull. “I may have been good, Severus, having the best interests of the Wizarding world in mind, but not everything worked out like it should have, and now young Harry is paying for it. I could have prevented many deaths in this war, but I did not, always thinking of the bigger picture, when I should have been paying attention to just how much pressure both I, and the rest of the Wizarding world, were putting on him. For that, I am damn to remain like this forever.”
Severus nodded slightly as he swallowed hard. “Why – why are you here?”
“I am here to bring you a warning, Severus,” Albus answered. “You must change, my boy, or many will suffer. Do not end up as I am; change your path before it is too late. Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits. Do not fear them, but listen to them well. It is not too late to change, my boy,” Albus said, and Severus stared at the spot on his bed where the man had sat, his mouth agape as he watched the man fade. “It’s not too late.”
To say that Severus was unnerved by the encounter would have been an understatement. He placed his book on the table by his bed and blew out the candle by which he had been reading, curled up into a ball in his bed and tried unsuccessfully to go to sleep.
“Severus,” a soft female voice called, rousing him from his sleep. “Severus, wake up,” the voice called again, and he was about to demand what they were doing in his chambers and yell at them to get out when he opened his eyes and stared into the transparent face of Lily Potter.
“L-Lily?” Severus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
She smiled at him gently. “I am the ghost of Christmas Past. Come, Severus, take my hand, we have a lot to see and little time in which to see it.”
Severus took her proffered hand, and the next thing he knew, they were in the living room of a Muggle house. He snorted derisively when he saw the many beautifully wrapped gifts beneath a large Douglas-Fir tree that was decorated with the same meticulousness as the gifts beneath it.
Lily looked at him appraisingly. “Do you know where we are, Severus?”
“Well, seeing that you are the ghost of the past, I can only assume that this is the house in which Potter grew up,” Severus retorted.
“Yes,” Lily said, sorrow in her voice. “I know what you think of my son, Severus,” she continued sadly. “But things are not always as they seem.”
“What do you mean?” Severus asked.
“Watch,” Lily replied, drawing his attention back to the scene before them.
It wasn’t long before a large man with an equally large moustache and no neck waddled into the room, sitting down with a sigh, a stupid grin plastered to his piggish face. “All right, Petunia,” he called. “You and the boy can come in now.”
Severus was about to scoff once again when a tall, thin woman with a long, horse-like face walked into the room with a large boy nearly the size of a baby whale. This wasn’t right, Severus thought. This was not the Potter boy. He was about to ask Lily about it, but the ghostly woman held a finger to her lips and motioned to the room before them.
Severus watched as the large boy ripped into all the presents beneath the tree, not leaving a single one. He sighed heavily when he had finished, carelessly tossing each revealed item aside only to grumble that there wasn’t enough, and he wanted more. Severus gaped. There had been dozens of presents beneath the tree.
“B-but what about Harry?” Severus asked before he could stop himself. Lily remained quiet, a sad expression on her lovely, youthful face.
Severus turned when he heard the couple trying to placate the large boy, and saw the man rise and go to a small door. Opening it, he reached inside and withdrew a bent wire coat hanger. He also pulled out an old pair of holey socks that were in a bag of old clothes that hadn’t been thrown away yet, and headed toward the stairs. He watched as the man banged on the small cupboard door before unlocking it.
“Here boy,” he said gruffly and thrust the socks and coat hanger at him before closing and locking the door once more. “All right Dudley,” he called, turning around. “We’ll help you carry this stuff up to your room, and then we’re going out to dinner. We’ll get you some more while we’re out, okay?”
Severus stared at them in shock as they turned out the lights, including the ones on the tree, and left Harry alone in the house. It wasn’t long before he heard the sounds of quiet crying.
“This is his first Christmas, Severus,” Lily said sadly. “I never wanted him to come here, but I never imagined that my sister and her family would treat him so horribly either. He was made to live like a house-elf, to cook and clean for them every day, more so on his birthday. They never showed him love or kindness once in his life. He never had anything new, anything that belonged to him alone. Not until he went to Hogwarts.”
“His first Christmas,” Severus asked in puzzlement. “How old is he?”
Lily nodded sadly. “His first Christmas to receive anything that is,” she said softly. “He is nearly eleven. Most times they lock him in his room all day and only let him out to cook and clean up after them on Christmas.”
“His room?” Severus questioned, and Lily nodded once more, tears shining in her transparent eyes as she pointed to the cupboard under the stairs.
Severus exhaled heavily. “So he wasn’t lying all those years,” he mumbled softly, a distant, sorrowful look in his eyes. “I’ve seen enough,” he continued after a moment.
Lily held out her hand and when Severus took it, he found himself standing in Gryffindor Tower; it was warm and cheerful with a cozy air about it. There was a tree in the corner of the common room, and a fire crackling nearby even though the sun was shining brightly in the windows.
“How old is he now?” asked Severus as he looked around the room at all the gifts under the tree.
“Eleven,” Lily answered. “This was his first Christmas here at Hogwarts. This was his first real Christmas.”
Severus heard a noise by the tree and turned. He had thought that they had been alone in the common room, but soon he saw a lanky boy crawling around under the tree and groaned when they climbed out, revealing red hair.
Lily smiled as the boy got to his feet. “Ronald Weasley was the first friend Harry made that was his age.”
Severus arched a brow at this. “His age?”
“Yes,” Lily replied. “He is rather fond of Hagrid; he was the one to deliver Harry’s acceptance letter when my sister and her husband wouldn’t let him have the ones that Albus sent. You would probably like the one who got you out of horrid living conditions as well.”
Severus nodded slightly, a thoughtful look on his usually stoic face. He gave a start when Ron rushed back up to the dorm.
“Harry!” the boy yelled as he ran up the stairs. “Wake up! It’s Christmas! Come on, let’s go open presents!”
Harry was up and coming out onto the landing, rubbing his eyes when Severus heard him ask, “I’ve got presents?” He didn’t miss the odd look the redhead gave Harry at this question either, and looked to Lily for confirmation on this.
“Yeah Mate,” Ron answered and hurried down to the tree, Harry in tow.
“This was the first time that Harry actually had a real Christmas,” Lily reiterated. “With presents given to him freely and with love.”
“What did he get?” Severus asked. “Who sent them to him?”
Lily smiled and nodded toward the boys by the tree.
“Hey, look!” Harry said with a smile. “Hagrid gave me a flute.” Severus watched him reach for the next parcel, and he noticed Harry’s face fell when he opened it. “Oh, that’s friendly,” said Harry sadly.
“What?” Ron asked, but Harry shook his head. Severus saw the redhead looking at something with blatant curiosity. “Weird! What a shape! This is money?”
Severus looked to Lily in surprise, but she shook her head. “You can keep it,” Harry said, drawing his attention to them once more.
“They actually sent him money, and he’s giving it away?” Severus asked.
Lily smiled sadly. “It is not even enough to buy a scoop of beetle eyes for his potions supplies,” she said softly. “Harry saw from the look on his face that it would mean more to Ron than it did to him, so he gave it to him.”
Severus gaped at her open-mouthed for a moment before turning his attention back to the scene before them in time to see Harry’s confused expression.
“Hmm,” he heard the boy mumble to himself before speaking up. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle… so, who sent these?”
Ron blushed as he pointed to one. “I think that one’s from my mum. I told her you weren’t really expecting any presents, and so… oh, no,” he paused with a groan. “She made you a Weasley sweater.”
Severus watched as the boy ripped open the parcel, and revealed a box along with a thick, hand-knitted green sweater while Ron complained about his own. Severus discovered that the box contained baked goods when Harry opened it and tried a bit of fudge. “That was nice of her,” he heard Harry say in response to Ron’s complaints, and Severus almost smiled.
He watched as Harry opened another gift, which also contained candy, and saw the note card that was signed by Miss Granger. Severus gasped audibly as the last parcel baring Harry’s name was opened to reveal a silvery grey garment that slithered to the floor out of the packaging as though it was made of liquid. He didn’t need to listen to the boys’ conversation to know what it was or who had given it to him.
“Albus gave him James’ Invisibility Cloak?” he croaked, and Lily nodded, her smile, for the first time, a happy one.
“As you have seen, Severus,” she said softly. “Harry wasn’t the spoilt brat that you’ve always believed him to be. It was Minerva who got Albus to fund and allow Harry his Nimbus 2000. She saw his talent in his first flying lesson. It was his talent on an old school broom that got him onto the Gryffindor house team, not his fame.”
“Yes,” Severus admitted quietly. “He is quite a talented flyer.”
Lily smiled. “Come,” she said, holding out her hand. “It is time to go. The other spirit will be arriving soon.”
Severus took her hand and he found himself alone back in his room, which left him feeling rather depressed with its stark contrast to Gryffindor Tower.
“Severus,” a man’s voice called, rousing him, and Severus was surprised to find that he had fallen asleep once more.
He sleepily looked over his shoulder and grumbled when he saw James Potter standing there, and spat, “What are you doing here, Potter?”
James chuckled softly and replied smartly, “I am the ghost of Christmas Present. Come, grab hold of my robes, I have something to show you.”
Severus grumbled once more as he got out of bed, took hold of James’ robes, and found himself in the homey but cluttered living room of the Burrow. It was late; the mini Weasley must have gone to bed, for Severus only saw six people in the living room and kitchen areas when he looked around. Ron and Hermione were in the living room on the couch with the twins, while Arthur and Molly were in the kitchen. Severus had heard at the Order meetings that Percy was still at odds with them, Charlie was staying in Romania and Bill was in Egypt because they had just found a new tomb.
“I wonder where Harry is,” Ron said, checking the time on the watch Severus had seen him wearing since Christmas last year. “I thought he said he was going to be here.”
“Well, he did say he had something to do first, and didn’t know how long it would take him,” Hermione said as she laid her head on Ron’s shoulder.
“How is Harry?” one of the twins asked; Severus didn’t know which one.
“Yeah, we haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“He’s been kinda down this year, but I’m not sure why,” Ron answered.
“Well, there’s been a lot more pressure on him this year. It’s been really quiet so far. You-Know-Who has to be up to something, but not a peep has been heard. He’s worried about it, who wouldn’t be?”
“So where is he?” Severus asked, turning to James.
James held out his hand and Severus took it after only a moment’s hesitation. The next thing he knew, he was in Gryffindor Tower once more, and he saw Harry walking down the stairs from the dorms, his arms laden with parcels of various shapes and sizes, one was obviously a broomstick.
Severus moved closer, and saw that each package bore a nametag. The broomstick was addressed to Ron. Harry sighed as he finished laying the packages around the tree, a sad smile on his face. With one last look, he headed out the portrait door.
“What is this?” Severus asked. “Where is he going?”
“You don’t know?” James countered, arching a brow.
Severus shook his head.
“Come, we must be off. The ghost of Christmas Future will be here soon.” James held out his hand and Severus took it, finding himself in his rooms again, this time however, he was not alone. “Severus,” James continued when they reached the man’s chambers. “I know you despise me, and you have every right to. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the way we treated you in school, but Lily showed you that Harry is not like me…”
“Not like you?” Severus asked in disbelief. “He hates me; he wants nothing to do with me.”
“Have you ever given him a reason not to hate you, Severus?” James asked, arching a curious brow. Severus was about to say something, but paused and shook his head. “He may not be willing to admit it, Severus,” James continued. “But he needs you.”
At this, Severus opened his mouth to argue that no one needed him, but James was gone.
“Severus,” a new male voice called in singsong. “Snape,” it called again, a little more harshly and Severus grumbled in his sleep. “Snivellus!”
Severus sat up with a start, and glared at his long time nemesis, Sirius Black. “What are you doing here?” he grumbled as he absently rearranged the covers around his waist.
“Believe me, Snivellus,” Black said. “I find no pleasure in being here, but I am the ghost of Christmas Future. Now, get off your arse, I have something to show you.”
Severus grumbled once more, and took hold of Sirius’ robes as he got out of bed. The next thing he knew, he was standing in a snow-covered cemetery, the Weasleys and others were standing in a small huddle.
“Oh, God!” Severus heard Hermione sob. “Why, Harry?”
“Harry?” Severus murmured.
“Yes,” Sirius said quietly and was silent for a moment as they looked on. “You found him, you know?”
“Found him?” Severus asked as he stared in shock at the small crowd of people he now realized were crying. He looked around in confusion; there were no signs of battle, no bloodstained or disturbed snow.
Sirius nodded. “It wasn’t his time,” he said softly, drawing Severus’ attention back to the scene before them. “But he made it his time. He was tired; tired of the war, tired of fighting, of losing those he cared about, and those he didn’t even know. He felt he had nowhere to turn, so he ended it all. He left a note saying that he was going to make it easy on Voldemort. He said, ‘the man can’t kill me no matter how hard he tries. I’m tired of fighting him, so I’m doing it for him.’ Honestly, we don’t think that the war was his only reason for this.”
“Where?” Severus asked quietly.
“Where what?” Sirius returned, lost for a moment.
“Where did I find him?”
“Oh,” Sirius said. “At the foot of the Astronomy tower on Christmas morning. You were out on a morning stroll around the grounds and tripped over his broken and bloody body. You didn’t see it because it had snowed since then.”
Severus shivered with how detachedly Sirius spoke of death.
“J-James said he needed me,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” Sirius said.
“W-what can I do? He doesn’t want me around.”
Sirius sighed.
“You can save his life for one thing,” Sirius retorted snidely. “Sometimes, we don’t always like to admit what we need or even know we need it. Harry is not one to ask for help, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need it at times.”
Severus nodded.
“Come,” said Sirius. “While there is still time.”
Severus took hold of his robes and once more found that he was alone in his chambers. Sensing the urgency in the air, he didn’t have time actually look for his clothing, so he spelled them on, and grabbing his thick, winter cloak, wrapped it about him then picking up a blanket, headed outside.
The snow was falling at a steady pace and he trudged through it as swiftly as he could when it was already knee deep. He would have used a hot air charm, but it would have taken longer. Finally, after a half hour, he made it to the foot of the Astronomy tower.
Carefully, he searched all around the base and sighed in relief when he found no bloodstained snow, or the broken body of the boy; he was early enough to stop him. He knew he wouldn’t be if he went back inside, he would be too late, so he cast a low level warming charm, enough to keep him from getting too cold, but not enough to allow him to find comfort enough to sleep and he waited.
It wasn’t long however, before Severus started when he heard shuffling above him and the clock chimed midnight. Looking up, he saw a lone figure step resolutely off the Astronomy tower, and leapt out to catch them as they fell.
“No!” Harry yelled, realizing that someone had caught him, and Severus was surprised at how light the young man was. He hadn’t even stumbled when he caught Harry in his arms.
“No,” Harry sobbed again as he flailed about in Severus arms, trying to escape. “Let go of me!”
Severus pulled him closer, trying to limit the damage he sustained from Harry’s fight. “Shh,” Severus crooned. “It’s all right, Harry,” he said softly as the fight suddenly left the young Gryffindor feeling drained, and he sobbed into Severus’ chest. “Let’s get you in where it’s warm.”
Harry was quiet as Severus carried him back in, but the man could feel the slight frame in his arms quake every now and then. Without a thought, Severus bypassed the stairs leading to the infirmary, and headed down the ones to his chambers in the dungeons.
Severus went straight to the bedroom and laid Harry down gently, wrapping the blankets tightly around the young man’s small frame, and conjured a fire in the hearth not far from the foot of the bed. He turned then, and sat down in a chair beside the bed to see the firelight play in emerald eyes and knew that Harry was watching him.
“Why?” Severus barely heard the quiet question.
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you just let me die? Why did you catch me? How did you even know I was there?” Harry asked in a rush.
Severus sighed and was quiet a moment, regarding the pale young man in his bed. He didn’t remember him being so pale and thin in his classes, and realized that Harry must have been using a glamour charm to conceal the poor state of his health.
“Why did you want to die?” he asked softly, James’ words from earlier echoing in his mind; have you given him a reason not to hate you?
He watched as Harry sat up against the pillows and bowed his head. “Why do you care?” Harry asked coldly, sitting stiffly and refusing to meet Severus’ gaze, his arms crossed over his chest.
Severus flushed and gripped the arms of his chair as his anger flared. He knew becoming angry would not help the current situation.
“If I didn’t care, why would I have saved you from Quirrell in your first Quidditch match, or speak for you in your second year when Filch’s cat turned up petrified? Why would I have put myself between you and danger once more in your third year? And, why would I have let Albus talk me into teaching you Occlumancy in your fifth year?”
“I – I don’t know,” Harry said, and turned away. “Maybe because it’s your job,” he shot back, chancing a glance over his shoulder.
Severus sighed.
“To save you from dying, yes. I could have let Filch have his way with your punishment in your second year though; the man was upset over his cat!” Severus cried in exasperation, throwing his arms up to emphasize his point.
He fell silent, and Harry said nothing.
“As for how I knew you were there,” Severus said after a moment, once he had is emotions under control once more. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Harry turned and looked at him for a moment, then lowered his eyes with a soft sigh. “Now you know how I feel,” he said quietly. Raising his eyes to meet the obsidian gems watching him, he continued, “Try me.”
Severus watched him, blinking curiously. “How about we make a deal, Harry?” he asked gently.
Harry blinked; Professor Snape had never called him by his first name before. It was always Potter or Golden Boy. “What – what kind of deal?”
“How about if I tell you how I knew you were there, you tell me why you want to die… the real reason?”
Severus watched and thought that Harry wasn’t going to say anything or agree when he nodded reluctantly.
“All right,” Harry replied softly.
Severus watched him a moment before saying quietly, “I’ve seen the future, Harry.” The young man looked at him, and he felt a scoff coming; they both knew that Divination wasn’t a very reliable form of magic, and he hurried to continue, “I was visited tonight by – three old friends. It is through them that I knew you would be there.”
Harry blinked and asked, “Old friends?”
Severus nodded. “Your parents and your godfather,” he clarified.
Harry snorted. “Yeah, right. I’ve seen your Pensieve, remember. I know you weren’t friends with Sirius or my father.”
Severus nodded. “This is true, I wasn’t. But, they did visit me. It was Black who told me where to find you. Harry,” he asked, realization of what James showed him earlier hitting him suddenly. “Why did you give your Firebolt to Ron? Why do you welcome death?”
Harry blinked in surprise. How did Snape know about that? He had been alone.
“I – I’d rather not talk about it,” he said, lowering his gaze to the comforter.
“I told you how I knew where you were,” Severus drawled quietly.
Harry was quiet for a while, but after a moment, nodded slowly. “I’m tired of fighting,” he said finally. “Ever since I came here, I have seen so much death – felt so much pain and grief.”
Severus was listening to him quietly when James words resounded in his mind. He needs you. “An-and this is why you seek death?” Severus asked softly.
Harry nodded, but then shook his head a moment later. “No,” he whispered, his head bowed.
“Why then?” Severus asked gently.
He saw Harry flush and once more wasn’t sure the young man would answer.
“I – I’m in love,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “But the one I love will never love me… They will never allow me to have what I want; they despise me.”
Severus rose to his feet and walked to the mantle, resting his weight against it. James’ words of the young man needing him and the man’s own admission to loving someone warring against each other causing a deep ache to settle over his heart.
“It hurts so much,” Harry continued softly. “Knowing that they will never love me. I have loved them since I laid eyes on them, but they have done nothing but push me away. I – I just couldn’t take one more Christmas alone.”
“What do you want, Harry?” Severus asked softly, not looking at him, knowing he was about to hear the accursed name of his godson on the younger man’s lips.
“You,” Harry whispered softly, causing Severus to turn with a start.
“M-me?” Severus asked, not sure he’d heard the younger man right. He hadn’t even known the younger man was gay, but then, the only girls he’d known that Harry had dated were the mini Weasley, which had ended last year, and Cho Chang the year before.
Harry blushed as he nodded, and Severus saw an all too familiar emotion in his eyes, the fear of rejection. Moving slowly, Severus sat down on the bed next to him. Looking down, he saw hope and fear shining in the younger man’s emerald eyes.
“W-why me?” Severus asked uncertainly.
Harry reached up and gently placed a hand on Severus’ cheek. “Because you saw me for something other than The-Boy-Who-Lived,” he answered. “From the moment I set foot in the castle, you treated me like a normal person.”
Severus gazed down into the green gems, and timidly bent his head and captured Harry’s lips. “I – I thought–” Harry began when they broke apart a moment later, but Severus silenced him by gently placing a finger to his soft, cherry lips.
“In public Harry,” he began. “It will always have to appear that I hate you… at least until the Dark Lord is vanquished. I will help you in any way I can. But trust me, I do not now, nor have I ever hated you, Harry.”
Harry smiled at him with watery eyes, and welcomed him in his arms as Severus bent to kiss him once more. That night both received the greatest gift of all, and that was love.
