Chapter Text
Harry wasn’t going home for the holidays. The problem was he didn’t know where home was. He had ownership of Grimmauld Place, but spending Christmas alone there sounded awfully dreary. He had been invited to stay with the Weasleys, and he had been tempted, very tempted, but things hadn’t been the same since he and Ginny broke up.
But, despite all that, the real reason why he wasn’t going home was Severus Snape. It was stupid, really, really stupid, but he wanted to use the holiday to get to know the other man. It was Harry’s eighth year and only a few months after the war, and things were … strange between them. Snape was almost nice to him now. Very strange, indeed.
After the Final Battle, Snape had stepped down as Headmaster and returned to the Defence position. Slughorn stayed to teach Potions, which was all right, but sometimes Harry missed seeing Snape in the Potions classroom, which was a barmy turn of events.
It was the day after everybody had gone home, and Harry had already received an owl from Hermione. She said she worried about him being lonely. You deserve to be around friends after everything we went through last year! He replied saying he wanted the time alone to study, and it probably only made her more concerned.
Now Harry walked the Hogwarts grounds, his feet trudging through the first snow of the year. It was peaceful when it snowed, everything white and muted. All the snow almost made Harry feel protected.
As Harry neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he spotted another man making his way through the snow. He wore long black robes and a fluffy green scarf. Atop his head perched a curious pair of goggles.
“Potter,” Severus Snape said as he drew closer.
Harry stopped and watched him approach. “Good morning, sir.”
Snape’s mouth twisted a little. For some reason, he seemed to fight down a laugh whenever Harry was respectful to him now, and Harry was always respectful to him.
“What are you doing so close to the forest?”
“I’m not sure, sir. I was just having a walk.”
Snape snorted and gazed out at the wintry expanse of the grounds. Weak light had broken through the rolling clouds, and it highlighted the lines around his mouth, the touch of hazel in his eyes. The tip of his nose was red from the cold.
Snape shuffled his feet, disturbing the scarf around his neck, and the dark green wool fell away to reveal his damaged throat. Harry stared at the mangled skin, and he felt something hot and strange course through him. He imagined himself reaching out and brushing his cool fingertips against those scars.
When Harry dragged his gaze back up, he found Snape watching him as well. They made eye contact, and it was strange, so strange. Harry was so used to them glaring fiercely at each other, but he wasn’t used to this quiet, almost intimate observation.
“Why did you stay on for the holidays, Potter? Did your friends finally realise what a dunderhead you are and abandon you?” Snape’s voice was soft and biting, but also bored.
Harry laughed, because he knew Snape hadn’t even tried with that insult. It was as if he said it merely because it was habit.
I stayed on because of you, he wanted to say, but he was pretty sure Snape would Hex him.
“My friends have always known what a dunderhead I am. I can only hope they’ve accepted it by now. No, I’m here because I wanted the time to study.”
“Bollocks.”
Astonished, Harry laughed again. “Language, sir!”
Snape’s lips twisted again, and it was as if he wanted to smile but didn’t let himself. “We are entirely alone, Potter. I can say bollocks if I please.”
They turned and made their way back to the castle. They walked close, shoulders nearly brushing. Snape looked down at the ground as they moved.
“What are those goggles on your head, sir?”
“I was in the forest looking for Potions ingredients. The goggles pick out traces of herbal magic.”
“Isn’t that Slughorn’s job, sir?”
“Professor Slughorn is getting older. It wouldn’t be wise of him to trudge about in the forest.”
“That’s really nice of you to help him.”
“It’s not nice; it’s merely what needs to be done.”
“Okay,” Harry said, but he still thought it was really nice. “Are you done with the task?”
“No, I will have to come back tomorrow. You have to harvest the plants at very specific times.”
“Can I help you, sir?”
Snape halted. “What?”
“I want to help you. Just tell me the time and the place, and I’ll be there.”
“Why?” It wasn’t every day that Harry saw Snape look so bewildered.
Harry shrugged. “I dunno, sir. I reckon I just … want to be around you.”
A hot flush crawled up Snape’s neck. He was staring at Harry as if he didn’t know if he wanted to fly into a rage or begrudgingly thank him.
“You will only be in the way,” Snape growled.
“Please, let me help you.”
“Fine!” Snape said, voice raised. He stomped away, his robes billowing behind him.