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The main Christmas tree in the Great Hall was already surrounded by presents, although Christmas Day itself was still a week away. Flitwick was telling the fairies where to sit among the branches and Hagrid was dragging in two more Christmas trees as a figure by the door moved further into the shadows.
He hadn’t wanted to move into the light where his scars would stand out as silver streaks against his pallid skin. He felt safer in the dark, where he belonged. And yet the Headmistress was insisting that he be present, in order to maintain “normalcy for the children.” Absurd. How could anything be normal after what these children had gone through? No life was left untouched by the Dark Lord’s foul stench, and now that he was gone, truly gone, he was here once more, picking up the pieces of his Master’s insanity.
McGonagall sidled up towards her reluctant friend, a sprig of mistletoe in her hand. They stood in silence for a moment as each surveyed the chaos before them. Finally McGonagall spoke.
“I’m glad you came back.”
Snape snorted. “Yes, well, your demand for my presence was quite clear.”
McGonagall frowned. “It wasn’t a demand, Severus. I just wanted you to be here for the Slytherin’s sake…as well as your own. No one should be alone at Christmas.”
Snape didn’t respond but the tension in his shoulders revealed his feelings adequately enough. He shouldn’t be here; he should be in his new home, sitting before the fire with a glass of mulled wine and the newest edition of the journal he was editing. But of course he was here at Hogwarts, subjecting himself to this torture. It’s for the Slytherins he reminded himself.
“How is the new Head of Slytherin holding out?” he asked, turning to a subject that interested him far more than Christmas decorations.
“Admirably, considering. He does have his work cut out for him. Your House had more deaths than most.”
“Of course,” Snape sneered.
McGonagall refused to be baited. “The children will be up soon, perhaps you would care to stay for breakfast?”
Snape hesitated. If he did stay he would be forced to put up with the stares and the pointing of fingers, and he had already had far too much of that in his life. But then again if he left he would upset McGonagall, one of the few people who managed to look at him as a person and not a murderer. “Very well,” he acquiesced, making it quite clear by his tone that he was doing so under duress. There was no point in giving a Gryffindor the satisfaction of getting their own way.
“Excellent,” she replied and walked off to give Hagrid some directions as he seemed to be having difficulty with some decorations.
Snape visibly relaxed until he heard all too familiar footsteps approaching. “Good morning, Severus.”
“Lupin,” he responded without turning around.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“McGonagall’s idea. I was just leaving.”
“Please, don’t on my account.”
“When I choose to leave is my decision, it has nothing to do with you,” Snape spat, resolutely remaining in the same spot. Remus raised his eyes to the ceiling and noted the mistletoe hanging directly over Snape’s head. Somehow he didn’t think Snape would appreciate it if he mentioned it.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about the wedding?” Remus asked.
“I have no interest in…”
“The bride looked lovely…”
“…that bloody woman’s wedding.”
“Is there any subject you would like to talk about?”
“No,” Snape snapped, “I am done here.” And with that he turned around and stormed out of the front door, robe billowing behind him.
Remus sighed to himself and headed into the Great Hall; he needed to see McGonagall.
***
Remus looked around the Headmistress’s office. Things had certainly changed since Dumbledore’s death. No more strange objects twisting and turning, no more sounds of motors whirring, no smell of lemon drops. The place had a much clearer, workman-like appearance than previously. This was a place where McGonagall sat and actually worked, not a place she tended to spend most of her free time. The only thing that remained the same were the portraits, all of whom appeared to be snoring, even that of Dumbledore.
“So, Remus,” asked McGonagall as she stepped into the room, a number of parchments in her hand, “have you considered my offer?”
“Yes I have. And I would love to come back and teach Defence, if of course you’re sure Voldemort’s curse has been lifted?”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Severus managed to break it, along with Bill Weasley. They make a surprisingly good team. It will be nice to have you back.”
“I’m looking forward to it. It’s just a shame that Professor Simpson felt he couldn’t carry on till the end of term.”
“Yes, well, the less said the better as far as that man is concerned.” Lupin raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic venom in McGonagall’s voice, but knew better than to push. At times she could be as prickly as Snape.
“Speaking of Severus…”
“Oh, yes, I’ve been trying to convince him to take back his old job.”
“Really?”
“He keeps turning me down though. It isn’t as if everyone doesn’t know why he did…what he did. Especially not after he received the Merlin, but he seems content with editing Potions Moste Potente.”
Remus didn’t know what to say to that. He had been vaguely aware that Snape had been working in potions, but despite all his best efforts he hadn’t been able to find out much about the elusive Slytherin.
“Are you going to keep trying?” Remus asked, telling himself that he was only vaguely interested in what Snape was doing with his life.
“You know how stubborn Snape can be…unless of course you wanted to try?”
“Severus is barely speaking to me.”
“Still?” McGonagall asked, sceptically. “But surely…”
“I don’t think so, no,” Remus replied, effectively ending the conversation. No matter how close they had become during the last few weeks of the war it seemed that Snape had only been interested in one thing.
“Oh well, perhaps he’ll come around in his own time…” McGonagall began to straighten out her desk, and Remus started to stand up. “Oh, Remus, I forgot. I haven’t asked you about the wedding…how was it?”
“Oh, yes, everything went fine. Bride looked lovely…”
“As did the Groom, no doubt. I’m sorry that I missed it. We’ll have to catch up later.” And with that Remus really was dismissed.
***
It wasn’t until Christmas Day itself that Severus Snape found himself once more in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The tables and benches had all been cleared away and music was filtering in through the walls, candles floating above them all, the ceiling revealing a snow-filled sky. Even to Snape the scene looked beautiful. Even more so as Remus Lupin entered the room, snowflakes in his hair and Tonks on his arm.
Snape stifled a growl as he looked over at the happy couple and then furiously turned away to watch the students begin to dance. It reminded him, painfully, of the Yule Ball, and how happy Dumbledore had been. He had always enjoyed a party.
Remus saw Snape from across the room and waved, but Snape was already turning away from him. So much for reconnecting. Tonks squeezed his arm.
“Why don’t you go talk to him?” she suggested.
“I don’t think that will do much good.”
“When has that ever stopped you?”
“Tonks…”
“Ooh, look, there’s Charlie,” she interrupted, eyes wide as saucers.
“Oh, go on then,” Remus smiled indulgently and Tonks placed a kiss on Remus’ cheek (which Snape resolutely did not glare at) before heading off to Charlie. Lupin’s eyes slid over to Snape as they so often did no matter how often his head tried to override his heart. He was about to turn away and find McGonagall when he saw the familiar scowl as Tonks planted the kiss on his cheek and then the almost imperceptible raising of eyebrows as Tonks embraced Charlie. Snape’s eyes met Lupin’s for a second and Lupin felt a jolt straight to his groin and – there – Snape flushed. It was only a slight touch of colour to his normally pallid skin but Lupin had learned to watch for such signs in the other man.
“Penny for them,” Alastor Moody asked a stiffened Snape. They would never be friends by any stretch of the imagination but since Moody had learned of the sacrifices Snape had made and after having fought next to the man during the War he had come to grudgingly accept his presence.
“She married Charlie,” Snape said. This apparent non-sequitor did not phase Moody who looked out at the room and spotted Tonks and Charlie making full use of the mistletoe above their heads.
“Yeah, didn’t you know?”
“I thought…she and Remus…” Snape whispered. He had thought that during the funeral… He had been there that day, hiding in the shadows. He knew it was risky, that if caught they wouldn’t have hesitated in killing him, but he had needed to say goodbye to the Headmaster properly. He was sure he had seen Remus and Tonks together then, and afterwards, whilst fighting together they had so often been paired with each other that he had assumed they were in a relationship. How could he have been wrong?
Remus watched as Severus talked to Moody and as the music struck up a waltz he came to his decision. He would ask Severus to dance.
Severus separated himself from Moody’s all too knowing eyes and began to head for the door. Remus stepped in front of him and stopped him up short.
“Severus…”
“Lupin!”
“…I was wondering…yes?”
“Get out of my way, Lupin,” Snape growled, his hand flexing in his pocket, wishing that his probation period was over and that he could replace the wand which Voldemort had snapped in two.
“I just wanted to ask you to dance, Severus.”
“Dance?” Snape laughed harshly. “With you?” He tried to muster up a sneer but couldn’t quite get his face to move in the right direction, the skin around his neck where Pettigrew had slashed at him was still too sore and the effects of his pain relief potion were beginning to wear off. Lupin’s eyes stayed focused on Snape’s face, trying to will him to understand that Snape didn’t intimidate him.
“Yes, with me,” and as he spoke he lifted up his hand and motioned to Snape to take it. Snape froze and for a moment indecision clouded his eyes before it was gone. Lupin wasn’t fooled however; he could still hear Snape’s heart beating fast, could smell his arousal, almost taste it.
“I will not be humiliated by you. Not again,” Snape seethed, pushing past the other man and out through the front door.
“Stubborn idiot,” Lupin muttered under his breath as he hurried to follow him.
“Severus…please, wait a minute. I wasn’t trying to hum…oh!” he stopped short and just avoided running into Snape who had come to a stop in the corridor outside one of the rooms in the dungeons. Snape’s old classroom Lupin realised belatedly.
Snape seemed to be lost in the past, staring at the door which had once meant so much to him, but which was now covered by a garish garland and had a sprig of holly dangling from the ceiling before it.
“Severus…” Lupin whispered, placing a gentle hand on Snape’s arm. Snape shivered under the touch.
“Foolish time of year, Christmas. You never get what you really want.”
“And what do you really want?”
Snape snorted. “If you expect me to say you then you will be in for a long wait.”
“Oh no, that really would be asking too much…We don’t have to stay here, we could go into Hogsmeade, get something warm to drink…”
“We don’t have to do anything.”
“Severus…I thought after…”
“One night of desperate sex before going into battle hardly makes…”
“I’ve missed you,” Lupin purred, turning Snape around so he was facing him. “I’ve missed your touch,” he touched Snape’s collar bone, “your smell,” he leant in to Snape’s neck and sniffed, careful not to jar his injuries, “your taste,” and then he flicked out his tongue and licked at the point of Snape’s neck where it met his jaw. Snape tried very hard to suppress a moan but this moment was full of too many late night fantasies for him to completely seal himself off from the wonderful sensation of Lupin touching him again.
“Lupin, please…” and Snape didn’t know whether he was pleading with him to stop or to carry on.
“Why don’t we go up to my office? It will be warmer there.”
“The cold of the dungeons never used to bother me,” Snape replied, but followed Lupin at an appropriate distance.
They entered Lupin’s quarters to find a roaring fire in the fireplace and mince pies on the table next to a pitcher of mulled wine and two glasses. Snape stared suspiciously at the table but didn’t say anything, content to let Lupin steer the pace for the time being. Lupin, after a brief moment of anxiety as he crossed the threshold into the room decided to take comfort in the fact that Snape apparently trusted him enough not to speak.
“Would you like a drink?” Lupin asked.
“That would be nice, yes, thank you.” Snape suddenly found himself unable to speak or even think coherently. Lupin smiled to himself, making sure that Snape didn’t see him as he did so, and poured out a glass for himself and one for the other man. Then they both sat down on the sofa with Lupin’s knees touching Snape’s in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Snape shivered.
“Are you cold?” Lupin asked, picking up the blanket from its current place as a rug and spreading it over his and Snape’s legs.
“A little,” Snape conceded. Though he would never admit it aloud the wounds inflicted upon him by Pettigrew and then Voldemort himself had done irreparable damage to his nervous system; things which had seemed inconsequential to him before, like sitting up all night in a freezing classroom, now made his joints ache for weeks afterwards.
Lupin leaned down and picked up a brightly coloured box from under the sofa. “This is for you.” Snape looked at it as if afraid it had come from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
“What is it?”
“A gift. Well, open it.”
Snape gingerly took the present from Lupin’s hands. Aside from those inflicted upon him by Albus and Minerva this was the first present he had received since he was a young boy. Banishing those thoughts to the back of his mind he unwrapped the gift. It was a perfectly preserved copy of Dark Arts, Dark Potions: How to Live and Die by Them.
“Where on earth did you find this?” Snape demanded, reverently running his long fingers across the gilded title page.
“I have my sources,” Lupin smiled. “So, do you like it?”
“Like it? Why Lupin, this is magnificent. The artwork, the attention to detail, its stunning.”
Lupin had never heard Snape speak so lovingly about anything and he flushed to hear him talk of something that he had given. He leaned over and gave Snape a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Merry Christmas.”
Snape closed his eyes and then moved his head, capturing Lupin’s mouth with his own. Lupin didn’t take very long to recover however and was soon pushing Snape back against the couch, desperate for the feel of skin on skin. But as Lupin began unbuttoning Snape’s outer layers Snape’s hands caught him and made him pause.
“Severus?”
“I…I have something for you.” He had meant to leave it under the tree, an anonymous gift that he hoped could not be traced back to him, but now…
“Severus you don’t need to…”
“No, I want to…Here.” He pulled out the gift from inside his robes and uncertainly handed it over to Lupin. Lupin took it gratefully and began to slowly unwrap it, careful not to tear any part of the silvery paper. Snape rolled his eyes at this display of paucity but said nothing.
“Oh, Severus, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” Lupin stared down at the ornately carved bookends, a wolf standing proud with emerald eyes on one and a Gryffindor lion, complete with red ruby eyes on the other. He could almost swear that they were alive and watching him.
“You really like them?”
“Yes, very much.” Lupin leaned forward again and kissed Snape gently on the mouth. Snape began to respond but pulled back with a wince.
“I’m sorry…I can’t…”
“Shh, that’s all right. We don’t have to do anything. I enjoy your company.”
Snape snorted.
“I do. Besides, we have mulled wine and a roaring fire, what else do we need?” Lupin asked as he tucked his feet underneath him and snuggled up to Snape who, after a moment’s deliberation, put his arm around Lupin and pulled him closer. Lupin smiled and closed his eyes, content to drift off to the sound of Snape’s lugubrious heartbeat. Snape did the same, settling himself against Lupin’s body and enjoying the feeling of warmth he got from being so close to another human being.
It was exactly like this that McGonagall found them some hours later, after having come searching for the two men to bring them some food from the feast. She smiled to herself before placing two plates brimming with food on the table and after a quick heating spell she left them alone, satisfied that this would be a Christmas neither of them would forget.