Chapter Text
One would have thought the overstimulation of the day would lead to an early bedtime for young Master Harry. But one would have been wrong. As the hours spun on towards the witching hour, Harry sat on the rug before the hearth, staring up at the Christmas tree. The ladies had long since retired to their own rooms in the upper parts of the castle. The wireless on the mantel played carols on the lowest volume Harry would accept, and the child waved his fingers in time to the music, too tired, at last, to sing.
Severus’ eyes were heavy, but he was loath to send the child to bed. Harry was caught in a wondrous enchantment. It would take an even baser creature than Severus Snape to break such a spell.
When the music gave way to the dull realities of the nightly news (as it must, even in the magical realm) Harry gave a great yawn. He pushed himself to his feet and wove his way through the maze of wrapping paper on the floor to the window where Polaris shone bright over the snow.
“Tell Mummy and Daddy Happy Christmas,” he said.
“I think we’ve had enough Christmas for one day now,” Severus observed gently.
“Time for bed?”
“Time for bed.”
Harry started for his room, but paused on the threshold. “I love you, Uncle Sev’rus. Happy Christmas.”
Severus’ eyes blurred, his heart wounded and blessed in equal measure. “Happy Christmas, Harry. I love you, too.”