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Water is taught by thirst;
Land, by the oceans passed;
Transport, by throe;
Peace, by its battles told;
Love, by memorial mould;
Birds, by the snow.
— Emily Dickinson.
The tan suited Severus well. It made him look radiant and full of life, as if he didn't quite fit with the wintry landscape behind him. Even the air around him felt warm, charged with the sea breeze from some beach overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.
"Look at what the tide brought us, dear." Astoria was the first to get up and greet the newcomer. "The very Severus Snape in person, can you believe it?"
Those were the standard words thatany visit of Severus to the house would happen. A kind of inside joke that she had repeated enough times for it to seem funny only to her.
She kissed Severus's cheek and then summoned a house-elf to inform the other inhabitants of the house about the arrival of his guest. Draco took that moment to approach his godfather and shake his hand. Neither of them was a person for hugs, but the contact of their hands conveyed the affection and respect they felt for each other.
"I'm glad you were able to arrive."
Severus smiled.
"I wouldn't miss it for anything."
And that was true. For decades and regardless of the weather, the distance or the circumstances of their lives, Severus Snape had managed to show up in Malfoy Manor during the Yule celebrations. Even in the midst of the dark lord's occupation, at the mercy of the coldest winter, they gathered in one of the rooms with few reasons to celebrate, but driven by the force of habit and the need to, at least for a few hours, think of better times.
The living room soon filled with voices. Narcissa came down the stairs with a huge smile on her face that had little to do with her reputation for being an excellent hostess, and muchwith the genuine affection he felt for the newcomer. The little Severus was next; he stormed through the room like a whirlwind and crashed into the legs of his namesake, shouting "Uncle Sev!" at the top of his tiny lungs. Scorpius was the last to arrive, Draco could barely contain his laughter when he saw Severus's eyebrow raise as his son's companion approached to greet him shyly.
"Mr. Potter, it's been a while since I've seen you." Severus replied.
Albus squirmed a bit under the gaze of his interlocutor and managed to stammer some courtesies. It was almost comical that, despite sharing a name, the two looked uncomfortable in front of each other; the only Severus in the room who seemed to be having a good time was the three-year-old playing on the carpet with the toy that his great-uncle brought him.
When all the greetings had been made and the souvenirs given, Severus went up to the room the elves had prepared for him, and the living room fell back into peace momentarily. Astoria settled next to Draco in the armchair that was clearly too small for both of them, and held his hand while they both watched the flames burning in the fireplace.
"He looks good, don't you think? It almost seems like he created a potion that makes him younger with the years."
Draco nodded. Seeing him like that, it was hard to believe he was the same man who seemed little more than an empty Shell on his thirty-nine birthday.
"The sun has done wonders with her skin." He joked. Both, he and his wife, knew that it took more than that for Severus to thrive.
They stayed there a little longer, enjoying the tranquility before the Yule traditions had their beginning, and bring chaos back with them.
As usual, the entire family gathered in the kitchen on Mother's night to prepare macarons; and, as dictated by family tradition, everyone except Narcissa failed miserably in their attempt. One would think that after almost thirty years of doing the same thing every twenty-first of December, they would have perfected the art, or at least had one or two successes; the harsh reality was that they only seemed to worsen over the years.
"To be a portioning genius, someone is quite bad at mixing ingredients." said Astoria, from her station by the oven. "And don't make me talk about the potion apprentices and their poor skills at beating the eggs."
Albus seemed saddened by the comment and his movements with the bat became a little less firm, much to the enjoyment of Scorpius who was laughing next to him.
"Easy to talk for someone whose only task is to stare at an oven." Severus continued sifting sugar for what seemed to be his fourth failure.
"Someone has to stop you from burning the few that manage to survive Draco's hands."
Draco did not respond his wife's comment, too busy trying to shape the dough into a round form; for some reason, it always ended up falling apart in his hand, or emerging like a irregular square.
"Come on, Tori, at least they are triying." Narcissa intervened, who somehow managed to prepare her own perfect batch of macarons, while playing with little Severus away from the danger posed by the oven.
"The absolute deity of the macarons has spoken." Scorpius bowed to his grandmother and then turned to his mom. "Her word is law, so your reign of tyranny has ended."
Severus and Draco snorted, while Astoria pretended to be outraged with her son.
The atmosphere was sweet and warm, spiced by the smell of almonds that floated in the air and gave everything a certain festive harmony. Draco looked at his gathered family, joking and laughing with one another, and couldn't help but notice the obvious absence of his father in the picture.
The first Mother's night he could remember without her father was on his sixth year at Hogwarts. That time he didn't even return home for the Yule holidays; partly because of the punishment the Dark Lord had imposed on him in the form of a suicide mission, and partly because he knew the celebrations wouldn’t be the same without his father. It wasn't until first day of Yule that he thought about how his decision had left Narcissa alone in a house no longer belonging to her. As with almost everything, his mother didn’t blame him; she, unlike Draco, was made of resilient material.
When he was a child, Draco used to think of his father as an immovable mountain at whose feet he and his mother could lean. As he grew up, Draco discovered that mountain was actually Narcissa. Lucius not only loved his wife madly, but he also relied on her to provide support when he needed it. Soon Draco learned that no decision was made in Malfoy manor without first going through her mother's approval. It was not until the return of the Dark Lord that things changed.
Narcissa, Draco later knew, insisted to her husband that they should stay out of the war. She had suggested fleeing to one of the properties she inherited from the Blacks in France and settling there until it was safe return to England. Narcissa knew the Dark Lord would not win the war, but Lucius was convinced otherwise. For the first time he made a decision against his wife's recommendations and the consequences did not take long to arrive.
After her father was taken to Azkaban for what happened in the Department of Mysteries, Narcissa, far from withering away, grew stronger. Now they were alone, she and Draco, in a world that seemed determined to devour them regardless of the path they took. She made Severus swear to protect them and clung to her sister's skirts, from whom years in Azkaban had not completely erased the lessons on the Black family unity. Narcissa endured and waited; she endured even while her flesh and spirit crumbled under the wand of a tyrant. Only when she feared for her son's well-being, she allow herself to give in.
Narcissa was not thinking about saving The Boy who lived that night; she only wanted to protect the most important thing to her: her family.
Draco returned to the present and looked at his mother, who was feeding with bits of macaron to little Severus. Despite the years, she still looked strong and imposing; unreachable, like a goddess capable of providing mercy and pain. His eyes then fell on Severus, who was now chatting with Scorpius and his boyfriend about the thesis proyect they were doing.
He was the only person in the world with whom Draco could compare his mother's strength. Albus had told them one afternoon that Potter's father had referred to Severus as the bravest man he had ever known, and for the first time, Draco was not reluctant to agree with him.
Severus had seen the worst of the world. Draco did not know the full story, but from what his parents had told him and the few things Severus himself let slip about his childhood, he knew that his life had been hard from the very beginning. Severus was a man who did not know complete happiness since he came into the world and, nonetheless, he was capable of loving deeply. The desire to protect those who once showed him affection was the only thing which kept him alive for so long.
"I think we have already burned enough of these, let's go to the living room."
The cooking group nodded at Narcissa's words and, gathering the macarons that at least looked edible, headed to the main hall. Each found a place to sit; Astoria fell down next to Draco in the same seat they occupied in the morning.;Albus sat on the floor together at the feet of Scorpius, Severus rested in his individual armchair, with little Severus on his lap due to the child's demand, and Narcissa rested in the same chair where she had sat for years, with her husband's empty armchair to her left.
They exchanged jokes about the strange taste of the sweets, with stories of their mothers in the middle —the present ones and those who were not. Some were funny, others tender, and, as could not be different considering what most of them had lived through, many were sad. Draco felt a lump in his throat listening to Scorpius talk about one Mother's night several years ago, when the whole family told stories about Astoria, fearing that those would be their last festivities with her.
Severus also spoke, although as was already customary, he did so little. He mentioned Eileen Prince for the first time just a couple of years ago; before that, he had limited himself to listening to the Malfoy stories in silence. Their contributions were short, lacking much detail, and quite sporadic; Draco suspected that this last part was due to the scarcity of moments he wanted to talk about. Sometimes Narcissa would add something about what she knew of Eileen before she was expelled from her family:"Yes —she said—, she was always a woman to take charge."
By the time Mother's Night was over, everyone went to bed feeling full physically and spiritually.
The second day of Yule started significantly calmer. Everyone in the house allowed themselves to sleep in, knowing that their bodies would appreciate the rest in a few hours. They skipped breakfast and went straight to lunch; Scorpius and Albus had gone to the Potter's house to have theirs there.
They took advantage of the informal meal to catch up. Severus visited them during the celebrations, but his research had limited the number of trips he could make to Malfoy manor, so they inevitably had a lot to talk about when the opportunity arose.
Apparently, his research had taken him to America; he had settled in a small town in the north of South America, where it was always bloody hot, in his very eloquent words. The magic there felt different, more elemental. Many of the inhabitants, even the muggles, felt its presence in the air. In some indigenous settlements, there were incredibly powerful witches with a knowledge of potions like no other.
"Additionally, people are very close." He made a grimace. "Too close sometimes. It took me a while to adapt to the physical aspect of closeness, actually."
Draco smiled at the thought of his godfather in the middle of a group hug.
"Do you plan to settle there?" Narcissa asked.
Severus denied.
"I plan to travel throughout the continent; as I said before, its magic is filled with natural energy and manifests in the most particular forms. I have heard stories of Mother Earth, as they refer to Hecate, disappearing entire villages to protect them from the conquerors many centuries ago. I would like to learn more about the tradition in the different countries and the variety of their legends. The diversity of cultures is immense."
Draco wouldn't know how to explain it, but his godfather's voice when he spoke of his plans in the future sounded like gold. Severus's eyes lit up and his hands gestured with what seemed like contained excitement. He looked radiant; the passion flowed from him in torrents and made it impossible to pay attention to anything other than his words.
Draco remembered the first time he saw him after the war ended. They had laid him out on one of the large tables in The Great Hall and, to everyone's surprise, it was Potter who was carefully levitating his body. At that moment, everyone thought he was dead; most of those present rejoiced quietly at that fact, but Draco felt as if a part of his heart had been ripped away.
Severus was, since Draco could reason, the closest thing to an idol for him. Wise, talented, and immensely powerful; any child would have seen in someone like that an example to follow. At first, Draco was thinking about him as someone great, but intimidating. However, Severus was the kind of person liked more as he was known better. By the time he turned eleven, Draco considered his godfather part of the family.
Seeing him immobile, with the twisted fase as if he would have suffered unimaginable pain, was the last straw for Draco. He had lost so much in the war; his innocence, his friends, the sense of importance he once had, he could not tolerate losing a member of his family as well. He fell to his knees on the ground and without caring who could see, or the judgments that would be made about it, he allowed cry. Draco hadn't done it since that night in the astronomy tower.
When Severus opened his eyes after Potter practically forced Madame Pomfrey to take care of him, Draco felt that he was reviving along with him. Although he soon noticed the war had taken from Severus more than he could handle imagine it drained his will to live. How far Severus had come from the shell of a man he was then.
Lunch was over, and taking advantage of little Severus taking a nap, the four adults in the mansion allowed themselves the indulgence of a firewhisky by the hearth. They didn't talk; the Malfoys were great conversationalists and that involved knowing when silence was more valuable than words.
Astoria withdrew first, saying she needed to check on little Severus, and Narcissa soon followed her. Before leaving the room, her mother gave Draco one long gaze and pointed with his head in Severus’s direction; Draco nodded. As soon as they were alone, he brought up the topic without any preamble.
"My father has been asking about you." He took a sip of his whisky, hoping the burn would distract him from the pain in his chest. "He is convinced that he will die before winter ends, so he wants to say goodbye."
Severus tensed.
"He has reasons to fear it, or is it just another delusion produced by illness?"
"Mother and I want to believe it's just the illness speaking for him, but during the last visit, he looked haggard. Not to mention that each day he seems less aware of himself."
The warm atmosphere of before disappeared and the cold was installed in the room as if they werein Azkaban alongside Lucius. Severus's expression spoke of sadness and helplessness and Draco understood it; he saw a very similar when he looked in the mirror sometimes.
"I thought the treatment was helping." The voice of her godfather broke a little; "he looked better the last time I visited him."
"We also believed it, but the improvement was temporary." Draco poured himself another drink. "Scorpius believes that there is still some cure out there for his grandfather; he is desperate to move on with his research and discover it. I don't have the heart to tell him how low are the chances of that; I suspect he is aware of if there were an answer in the world of potions, you would have already found it."
Draco noticed his godfather's clenched fists.
"Don't think about blaming yourself, Severus, you have done more than enough for us and for my father."
"Draco, I... "
"No" He cut it. "Do not do this. You protected us for years, you accompanied us, and returned my wife to life; I have nothing but gratitude and debts to you. I know how much you care for my father and I have also seen your struggle to try to heal him, and don't you dare deny it; I know you ended up in South America searching for new forms of magical mental medicine. It is not your fault or your responsibility what is happening with my father".
Any response Severus was planning to give, was cut off by the flu. Scorpius appeared with a cheerful greeting, which fell silent as soon as he was aware of the atmosphere in the room.
"Albus will stay with his parents tonight." he said in a measured tone. "Mr. Potter sends greetings and a threat of a visit if Uncle Severus doesn't respond soon to his last letter."
Severus snorted with annoyance, even when everyone in the room knew about his years of correspondence with Potter.
"Age has not taken away his tendency to be a nuisance."
The conversation soon turned to the most recent Potter and Granger’s misdeed in their crusade to reform the ministry; Draco feel relieved by the change of subject.
That night they did not have dinner in the dining room. The elves prepared a table in the greenhouse and the family installed there.The little Severus was the center of attention while he happily talked about how he would stay awake with the others to wait for the sun; everyone nodded and applauded, even knowing that he would soon fall asleep. He was a bit young for participate in the Yule vigil, but too stubborn to accept it.
It turned out that most adults neither achieve to stay awake. Severus and Narcissa was no longer of an age to allow themself to stay up all night, and Astoria did not participate in the vigil since she fell ill; she had insisted on reintegrating into the tradition now that she is healthy, but Severus strongly recommended not to push the limits of her body. By the time the sun began to appear on the horizon, only was Draco and Scorpius in the greenhouse.
"Do you remember the last time were only the two of us watching the dawn in Yule?" asked Scorpius, with the first rays of the sun breaking before them.
Draco nodded. Of course he remembered; it was the year in which Astoria worsened. Then Severus had gone out to collect the solstice's snow for medicine, and Narcissa had stayed with her daughter-in-law in the room, watching the sun rise from her window.
"Before then, all my solstice's wishes were childish nonsense; the kind of things a kid would ask for. But when I saw the sun rise that morning, I remember closing my eyes and wishing with all my heart that my mother would survive, that she wouldn't leave me alone. I swore if that happened, I wouldn't wish for anything else in my whole life." he smiled with teary eyes. "Until now I kept that vow and only thanked each time I saw the sun rises… but do you think Hecate will get angry if I break it now? Grandpa, he... Father, do you think I can ask for him this time?"
Draco looked at his son and had to swallow a little before he could speak.
"The Malfoys keep their oaths, son." and upon seeing that Scorpius's expression was fading, he added: "Fortunately, I did not make one, so I suppose Hecate won't have a problem if I ask for you, don't you think?"
Scorpius sobbed a little and hugged him.
"Of course, father."
Draco allowed himself to sleep late again. By the time he woke up, Severus and Narcissa were not home. He didn't have to ask where they had gone, not after the conversation he had with his godfather the day before.
He went down the stairs in silence and headed to little Severus's playroom, from where laughter was coming out. He found Astoria on the ground, while her son flew in circles around her on a practice broom.
"Good morning, dear, or should I say good night?"
Draco smiled and entered the room. The little Severus stopped orbiting around his mother and flew towards him.
"¡Look Dad! Look how high I can fly!
"Wow, soon we will have the national quidditch team at our doorstep, wanting to summon youin their lineup."
Severus laughed delightedly and made a small curve to show off even more in front of his parents.
"I even helped mom to put the mitletoes throughout the house. I reached the top of the door!
"Mistletoes." Draco corrected, raising an eyebrow at his wife. "And I thought we had agreed not to put any more of those after what happened last time."
Draco had few more uncomfortable memories than that of his mother and Severus caught under a mistletoe, unable to flee. Fortunately, the charm of the amulet needed nothing more than a kiss on the cheek to break.
"This time I enchanted them to flee from Severus and Cissa." his wife spoke mischievously. "And now is the perfect time to return the mistletoe tradition, with another couple in the house."
Draco grimaced.
"The idea of my son kissing a Potter is even more uncomfortable than what happened with mother and Severus."
Astoria rolled her eyes; Draco had given up trying to make her stop that habit many years ago.
"Please, at this point those two have probably done much more than just kiss."
"Astoria!"
Draco didn't know whether he was more worried about, his son's innocent ears being corrupted or his own mental stability.
"I'm just being realistic, Draco." She stood up and walked towards her husband. "Besides, the mistletoe has its advantages."
With a flick of her hand, a sprig of oak leaves appeared over their heads, ensnaring them under a spell. Draco laughed heartily and took his wife's hand to draw her closer.
Draco loved that woman. He felt a deep respect and affection for her. When he thought he would lose her to a magical illness, he believed his life would end with hers.
"Don't be an idiot, Draco" she had told him, when the thought slipped out loud Draco's tongue next to the bed where she was convalescing. "You better have a long and happy life if I die; Scorpius, your parents, and Severus need you. And more than that, you deserve to move on when I'm not here."
She had taken his hands with authority; her touch was so cold that Draco felt as if she were speaking to him from the other side of the Veil.
"You are an individual, not a pair. Merlin knows that if you were to go first, I wouldn't hesitate to move on because I know that's what you would have wanted. The same way I make it clear to you now, Draco Hyperon Malfoy: I hope you stay alive, smile, and enjoy all the years that lie ahead. If you don't, I'll haunt you like a vengeful ghost, understood?"
Draco had no choice but to nod and kiss her lips. The coldness that had been there was gone, and now, when Draco joined his lips with his wife's under the mistletoe, the kiss felt warm.
On the fourth day, the family gathered in front of the fireplace to light the Yule log.
They held hands, closed their eyes, and each one silently meditated on their gratitude. Draco had many of those, all concerning the people gathered there.
He was grateful that when the torture of the trials before the Wizengamot came to an end, and Draco had to come to terms with the idea of never seeing his father outside a prison cell again, he still had his mother by his side.
He was grateful that when Severus fell into a depressive hole after the war and tried to take his own life, Narcissa decided she had had enough and dragged them to the mansion on the outskirts of Avignon, hopping France would return to them what they had lost in England.
He was grateful that in the French countryside, Severus regained not only his passion for potions, but also his will to live; and by the time Draco and his mother were ready to return to England, his godfather decided there was too much in the world he still did not know and embarked on his own path, exploring new lands while exploring himself.
He was grateful that, back in England, when all doors closed in his face, Astoria opened hers; first the doors of her home, then those of her business, and finally her heart ones. She not only allowed him to love and be loved, but also helped him to remember his past did not have to define him or his future.
His heart tightened when the moment came to give thanks for his children. Scorpius was conceived after several mediwizards had assured Draco he was incapable of having offspring; the sun-blonde boy was born seven months later, weighing less than five pounds and with all his tiny fingers and toes intact. Severus's birth was even more miraculous because his very existence meant his mother lived long enough to have him.
And that was another thing Draco had to be grateful for. He still vividly remembers the January night when Severus burst into the room where Astoria was convalescing, and looked at them both with shining eyes.
"I found it, I found a cure!"
At first, Draco didn't want to get his hopes up, not because he didn't trust his godfather's talent, but due to all the previous times they had believed they found relief from Astoria's afflictions. Since her illness was diagnosed—a rare condition where the patient's magic slowly devoured them—Draco saw his hopes rise, only to crash harder each time when a new treatment failed.
However, as the days went by and Astoria's skin regained its color with each dose of the medicine she drank, Draco couldn't help but believe again. When winter ended and gave way to spring, his wife had bloomed with the other flowers; Severus brought her back to life. Months later they learned another child was on the way, and they decided named him Severus. Draco saw his godfather cry for the first time when he found out.
Draco held an infinite number of bad memories in his heart, but each of them carried its own shining emembrance; pain and relief, both dancing in his mind on a captivating dance. As he opened his eyes again and found his family gathered there, Draco could only think about how lucky he was.
On the morning of December twenty-fifth, they scattered the ashes of the Yule log in the courtyard of Malfoy Manor. Little Severus, wrapped in layer after layer of coats and heating spells, scampered around the yard with his fists full of ashes, determined to carry them the farthest.
It had snowed earlier, but the snow had stopped and now lay on the ground, creating a bright white blanket. The birds were encouraged to leave their hiding places and rested on the frost-covered branches, until little Severus's giggles forced them to take flight.
They couldn't stand being out for long, even with the heating spells. All the family gathered in the main hall with hot cocoa, and chatted cheerfully about decorating the tree later. And that’s where the night found them; together, happy, and grateful.