Work Text:
25 December 1975
Dear Severus,
Sorry I’m not at Hogwarts for Christmas. But I hope you like your gift, I saved up for it. You should wear it to Slughorn’s New Years ball when we’re all back. I think you’ll look right handsome in it! You should owl me photos or something, I can’t wait to see!
Anyway, Happy Christmas, Sev. I miss you!
Love,
Lily
He missed her, too—of course he did. Christmas had never really felt special to Severus. It’s not like he ever got many presents, and the feast wasn’t much fun without any friends to enjoy it with. He had always wished Lily would stay behind with him, but he knew that was a bit of a pipe dream. She didn’t get to see her family often, and unlike his family, they actually liked each other. It was understandable, but that didn’t change the fact that it always left him feeling a little hollow every Christmas Day.
Still, he was always grateful that she cared about him enough to send him a gift every year. His feelings of gratitude were always tinged with guilt that he never got her anything in return, but she never seemed to mind. She never said anything about it, at least. So he always tried his best to ignore that nagging guilt, convincing himself that he would repay her someday, and let her gifts be bright spots in his gloomy Christmases, and this year was no exception.
He put the letter aside and picked up the parcel, wrapped in white paper dotted with little drawings of holly. It had that familiar squish of gift-wrapped fabric, and the presence of clothing was certainly implied by the letter, so Severus couldn’t help but feel hopeful. He had pretty much been living in his school uniform lately—the standard robes that students of all genders wore were certainly the best option, what with all his other clothes being hand-me-downs from his mother. As much as they weren’t his style, he would have killed for some of his father's old clothes instead, but his parents never understood. Those types of conversations always ended with a refusal on their end, citing its “improper” nature, and lately Severus had given up trying. Really, it was too painful to tell even Lily, but maybe she knew somehow. She always did.
He tore open the paper with a fervor, a fiery excitement welling up inside him. And Lily did not disappoint: folded neatly beneath the paper was a brand-new set of men’s dress robes. A flowing black outer robe, with perfectly pressed black trousers to match, and a crisp white dress shirt and a waistcoat in a rich, deep blue to wear underneath.
Severus was so happy he could have cried, and he hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time. In fact, this sense of utter bliss was something he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. Somehow, Lily always knew what he wanted—what he needed, really.
In the warmth of the Slytherin common room, with no one else around and the fireplace crackling away in front of him, Severus held up each piece and admired them in the light of the flames, especially liking the way the dappled light from the torches on the wall reflected off the dark, iridescent azure of the waistcoat. He ran his fingers over the material—soft to the touch while still maintaining a distinguished look.
After spending what was probably an inordinate amount of time simply gazing at the clothes, Severus figured there was nothing else to do but try them on.
Dress robes in tow, he made his way to the Slytherin men’s bathroom and pushed open the door, finding it mercifully empty—he could admire himself in front of the mirror for as long as he wanted. Still, just in case someone came in unexpectedly, he made his way to a stall to put them on, and after making sure the door was locked securely, he stripped off his school robes, worn and weary from constant use. Although it was without fanfare, without ceremony—just the usual act of changing clothes—the moment he let those robes fall to the floor was almost a moment of liberation. He didn’t need them right now; he was free from their hold. They had been the thread that kept him hanging on these days, but right now, he didn’t need that thread when he had a whole rope waiting for him.
And a strong rope it was. Doing up the dress robes’ numerous buttons was methodical and calming and made him feel like an aristocratic gentleman, but at the same time, it felt so right. Like he was who he had been all along, if a little more fancy. By the time he finally slipped on the outer robe, he was bursting with excitement to see himself more clearly than he had been able to in a long time—if ever.
When he made his way over to the mirror, an indescribable kind of joy welled up in his heart.
Severus saw in front of him exactly what Lily had said in her letter—a right handsome man. A young man with sharp cheekbones and dark, intense eyes emphasized by the contrast to the shiny rich blue of his waistcoat. A proper man indeed. Himself.
It was the best Christmas gift he could have asked for: to have someone who knew him, who saw him—all of him—and wanted him to see himself too. He would have called it a Christmas miracle, but he knew it wasn’t a miracle at all—things were simply exactly as they were supposed to be.