5.

The real breakthrough in their relationship happened on Christmas Eve: a very adequate date to make peace and such things in your life.

They were having Christmas dinner in the Great Hall in eleven: just the three Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff second year (she had to move into Gryffindor tower though) remained in the school this year out of the student population, and seven adults: Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Trelawney, Hagrid, Flitwick and Filch, when Snape, after having a few spoonfuls of the traditional vegetable soup, suddenly stood up and left the hall in an obvious hurry.

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered after him worriedly, Harry flinched and his appetite disappeared. He could imagine only one reason for Snape’s behaviour, and Dumbledore’s reaction just confirmed his anxiousness: his ex-master had summoned the Potions Master. Deliberately, he looked at the Headmaster questioningly, without worrying about waking the snake inside, and he was greeted by two unblinking blue eyes, which didn’t turn away from him. After a short moment, Dumbledore smiled and lifted his thumb up almost invisibly. “Professor Snape will be all right,” his message was clear.

But Harry just couldn’t stop worrying. Soon, he excused himself and went back to the now silent Gryffindor common room and collapsed into a chair in front of the fireplace. An ominous foreboding lingered in his mind, and after some minutes of thinking he even guessed its origin: somewhere deep in his mind, in that part, which he fought to close from Voldemort, he felt a sickeningly terrible feeling: a triumphant glee and the expectation of revenge. Harry was frightened. Snape was in mortal danger, he was sure. As he concentrated more on that part of his mind, suddenly, his scar flared painfully, and his worry grew tenfold.

Harry clenched his teeth in pain and pulled out his own wand, grabbing it forcefully and concentrating hard on throwing Voldemort out of his mind… but Voldemort wasn’t in his mind, not this time, just those feelings, and with a sudden decision Harry reached out for them more… and even more…

And the next moment he found himself in a dimly lit room, with a wand raised in his hand, and his Death Eaters were standing in a semi-circle, while a man was whimpering on the floor in pain of his Cruciatus… Snape. The traitor.

Harry felt hatred burning in his chest and flicked his wand even more. Snape shrieked in pain. Harry smiled satisfied and stepped forward toward the trembling figure. When he lowered his wand, the lying figure went silent.

“Let’s try now, Severus,” he stepped closer and kicked the man on his ribs. “Legilimens!”

Pictures and images of his own appeared in Harry’s mind. Him, chopping bat wings, him, stirring a bubbling draught, him, lifting his wand in order to protect himself from Snape’s Legilimens spell – things, he could feel, Snape fought not to show, but all those tormenting curses weakened him too much.

“You will die, Severus,” he said as the spell finished and leaned closer to the pale-faced man. Panic flooded Snape’s eyes, before he could catch himself: panic and dread. “My dear young Malfoy did a wonderful job of revealing you,” he lifted his wand and pressed it to Snape’s heart.

In that moment, Harry’s mind almost blew up as he struggled to break through his mortal enemy’s mind. He didn’t know what, or how to do it precisely, but he had to do something, or Snape would be dead in one moment…

And then, he caught himself standing next to his professor, he, not Voldemort, but he, Harry with his own feelings and fears, and with a quick decision, he pushed the wand in his hand into Snape’s and muttered to the surprised man.

“Disapparate, professor! Now!” he added, as he felt another presence forcing him out of the possessed body. “Now!” he growled again, and with the last shreds of his will he made Voldemort’s body to jump back with full force and lost consciousness.

“ALBUS, YOUR GOLDEN BOY IS AN IDIOT!”

Snape’s yell was so earth-shattering that Harry woke with such a start that he jumped and fell off the bed he was lying on. The next moment, he felt arms pulling him to his feet and back to the bed, while another voice answered in an amused tone, “Severus, you shouldn’t be so angry. He saved your life after all.”

“Just another Potter I owe a life debt,” a voice muttered from above and Harry opened his eyes. “Wonderful,” Snape continued, but Harry couldn’t see him, just the usual blurs, but his teacher, apparently, had no similar problems. “So you decided to join us, Mr Potter,” he snapped.

“As if I could sleep with you bellowing over me,” Harry muttered, while Snape made him sit on the bed and slipped his glasses onto his nose.

“Don’t be insolent, Potter. Saving me doesn’t mean you are allowed to be your usual cheeky self towards me,” the words were just so comfortably Snape’s that Harry smiled.

“I’m happy you are well too, professor.”

Snape, he saw, rolled his eyes, but a smile was hiding around his thin lips.

“That show of yours was an act of stupidity, Mr Potter, and absolutely unnecessary,” the man said dryly. “You shouldn’t have done anything…”

“Severus…” Dumbledore shook his head.

Snape shut his mouth and looked at Harry. The boy just shrugged.

“I still don’t know how to brew an Invisibility Potions properly, sir,” he stretched himself and yawned. “And I need a teacher to master Occlumency too…”

Snape sighed and sat down on the next bed and turned to Harry seriously. From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Dumbledore leaving the room.

“It was a mistake to show him you are strong enough to overcome him,” Snape spoke up.

“He wanted to kill you,” Harry’s reply was calm and guarded. “I… I don’t want you to die, sir.”

“That’s not important, Potter…”

“That’s more important than anything else, sir.” Harry shifted, but he didn’t look away. “I didn’t want anybody else to die because of me…”

“It wasn’t because of you…”

“Then what else could Malfoy report to him? He probably reported how many times I visited you. At the same time, I became better in Occlumency. I don’t think it took him too long to put these facts together.” Snape didn’t answer. Harry added, his voice even softer, “and you don’t owe another life debt, professor. It was me, who owed this to you,” Harry didn’t let Snape interrupt him. “It was just recompense for your protection and the time you wasted on me even though you er… don’t like me…”

“I never waste my time, Mr Potter,” Snape snapped. “And you didn’t owe me anything. What I gave you I gave freely without any thought of recompense or such nonsense…”

“And on the other hand I wanted to give you my Christmas present too.”

“That’s beautiful. Don’t tell me, Potter, you bought me some childish stupidity in the hope I will be touched over your magnanimous gesture!”

Another Snapish reaction, Harry grinned.

“Oh, no, professor. Nothing childish,” he crossed his arms over his chest. Snape raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry knew this sign. It stood for a “what”. “There are no more Certificates in certain cleaning cupboards…”

Snape's reaction was sudden and unexpected. He jumped to his feet and left the hospital wing without any further word. Harry let out a sigh of frustration and pain as the door closed. Snape still didn’t trust him. Perhaps the man still hated him too. And here, he thought they could be friends…

But later that evening, when Madam Pomfrey finally released him and he could return to the Gryffindor Tower, Ron and Hermione almost attacked him in excitement.

“Snape was here!” Ron said grinning. “He was so… unlike him…”

“He brought a big box and asked us to give it to you,” Hermione added and pointed to a wrapped box on their usual desk. “And wished us happy Christmas!”

“And gave us twenty points for remaining here for the holidays,” Ron finished grinning. “I think you DID something to him, didn’t you?”

Harry stepped closer the box curiously.

“I don’t know,” he croaked hoarsely. His hands were trembling as he touched the box.

A letter, the first thing he saw was a letter pinned to the wrapped object. Harry looked at his friends first, then opened the letter.

Potter,

Happy Christmas. And don’t forget to come on Monday.

Severus Snape

Harry blinked. Snape had just sent him a Christmas gift. Even if the letter was short and almost entirely neutral… it had to mean something. His eyes moistened as slowly he opened the box.

His breath hitched. It was a Pensieve. The same he had looked into twice already.

Ron and Hermione nodded at him reassuringly.

Harry leaned forward.

As his nose almost touched the silvery surface he felt the familiar sucking feeling and he was pulled into somebody’s memories again – but, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t preying on their secrets and thoughts, it was an absolutely legal and willing act…

He couldn’t go on with thinking.

He was standing face-to-face with his mother. She was just like in those photos: beautiful. In surprise, Harry backed away, so he could see Dumbledore standing close to her, leaning slightly forward and they both were staring at the small bundle in her arms. A baby. Harry’s chest tightened. It was he and his mother together – and this time it wasn’t just a photo or a description: it was as if he were a participant in the event.

They were in the Hospital wing, Harry recognised it immediately, but it was only the two of them. His father, James was nowhere to be seen.

“So, what do you want to call him?” Dumbledore’s sudden question made Harry jump and step back even more, so he could see the third person in the room: Severus Snape was standing in the doorway: a fact both others were oblivious to. This Severus Snape was a little different from the man Harry had known from classes: he was thin, much thinner than now, so that his cheekbones stood out prominently in his face, his hair was longer, but still greasy, his nose hooked, but not crooked and his skin didn’t have that unhealthy yellowish shade it had later. Still, he didn't look much better than in that another memory Harry had had the misfortune to see, although age slightly had improved his appearance.

“Harold, like my father. And I think James would want him to bear his name as well,” the young woman replied uncertainly and smiled down at the baby in her arms. Harry's heart warmed up.

“That will be fine,” the Headmaster smiled and leaned closer to the small, sleeping form. Next to Harry, Severus Snape made a tentative step forward with a distant expression on his face. What was that? Longing? Jealousy? Harry couldn’t decide.

“I think he is beautiful,” she beamed merrily to Dumbledore.

“He is like his father,” the Headmaster said.

“Yes, but he has my eyes. And,” she sighed, “I hope he will be more like me, than his reckless daddy…” she caressed the baby’s head softly.

In this moment, Snape decided to speak up.

“Headmaster,” he said in a businesslike tone. “If you excuse me…”

Dumbledore tore his eyes off Harry.

“Severus,” he smiled at the awkwardly thin young man. “Come nearer,” he waved at him, but Snape appeared reluctant to move.

“I’d rather not, Headmaster,” he said stiffly and averted his gaze from Harry’s mother and the child. “I came because of an important matter,” he added.

Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Severus…” Dumbledore began again, but this time, Lily Potter interrupted him.

“No, Albus. This is James’s kid. I understand Severus doesn’t want to see him,” she turned to Snape and they exchanged a somehow understanding glance.

Dumbledore stood up.

“Let’s go then, Severus…”

And with this, the short scene ended, but before Harry could meditate on what he had seen, another memory swirled into focus.

“Evans, at least listen to me, because that git of your husband will not!” The same, young Severus Snape was looming over Harry’s mother, while a toddler Harry looked up at the menacing figure with curled down lips. Harry smiled to himself. Apparently, Snape managed to depress him long before he had come to Hogwarts… “The Dark Lord is after you. You have to try something, the best would be if you go under a Fidelius. He wants the boy,” he nodded at Harry, who in that moment began to cry silently. “If you want to protect him, listen to me.”

His mother seemed scared, but nodded and pressed Harry to herself tightly. The little boy cuddled to her chest and buried his face in her robes.

“Thanks, but… Severus… why are you helping us?” She cracked a genuine smile at the long figure.

“That’s none of your business, Evans,” he shrugged and straightened himself. “But only one thing in exchange: don’t turn your precious son into another bully, if I can ask you…”

A pained expression flickered over his mother’s face.

“Severus, I promise, as long as I live I will do everything to make grow Harry up into a better kid than James,” a thought later she added. “And don’t forget: Harry is not only James’s son. He is my son too…”

“We’ll see,” the future Potions Master sneered and stalked out of the room.

Harry found himself in the Gryffindor common room again. With a quick decision, he pushed himself to his feet and after a few short, reassuring words to his friends, he climbed out of the Fat Lady’s portrait and ran as fast as he could to the dungeons.

For a moment, he felt lost. There was no light under the door of Snape’s office, and he didn’t really know where the professor’s personal quarters were. But soon, he discovered another door, quite close to the office, so Harry took a deep breath and knocked.

He didn’t have to wait for too long. It came out that they were indeed Snape’s quarters, because it was the Potions Master himself who opened the door.

“Potter?” he looked at Harry, but before he could say another word, Harry stepped up to him and hugged him tightly for a long moment.

“Thank you, professor. This was the best present I've ever had. And happy Christmas too,” he whispered to the absolutely shocked man.

When he released Snape and tried to flee, a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Harry, wait.” Snape’s voice was hoarse with emotions and a little trembling. Harry turned around astounded to his first name’s usage.

“Sir?”

“I just wanted to say that your mother was right. You are not your father. I should have seen it long ago…” Snape sighed and Harry gulped. “And… I’m sorry…”

The long needed apology shocked Harry more than his affectionate display had shocked Snape.

“That…that’s all right, sir,” he stuttered and cracked a timid smile.

Snape smiled back.

“See you on Monday, then. Now go and enjoy the holidays! I’m sure those friends of yours are already waiting for you. Happy Christmas.”

“Yes,” Harry’s smile widened. “On Monday, sir. And once again, Happy Christmas.”

After the door’s clicking shut Harry headed back to the Gryffindor Tower.

“What happened, mate?” Ron’s question greeted him first seeing Harry’s absentminded expression.

“The impossible,” Harry answered grinning. “I hugged Snape and he called me Harry.”

“You – what?” Ron gaped at him, but Hermione laughed, freshly, freely, merrily.

“I think he has became somehow fond of you, Harry. I don’t know how you did it…”

Harry’s face fell.

“He is not fond of me, Hermione. He is just tolerating me…”

Hermione jumped toward him and hit his chest playfully with her fist.

“Tolerating… Come on, Harry, try again! He gives you extra lessons freely, of his own will, he gives you his memories, he calls you by your first name…”

Harry wondered.

“Do you really think so?” he asked in a thin voice and something like hope burgeoned in his chest.

“I don’t know why it is so important to you, mate, but I think Hermione is right,” Ron’s low voice sounded amused.

Harry lifted his eyes to his friends. They both were smiling at him reassuringly. In that moment, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, suddenly, he felt good – simply good without any sorrow and uneasiness, for the first time since Sirius’s death. The emptiness disappeared together with the feeling of meaninglessness, just a fine, glowing warmth remaining in their places.

Harry finally smiled again.

It felt like his best Christmas ever.

The End

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