|gin_tonic (gin_tonic) wrote in adventdrabbles,|
@ 2007-12-28 02:18:00
|Entry tags:||contributor: gin_tonic, dec25, fandom: harry potter, year: 2007|
Dec25, Harry Potter, Harry/Severus, (It's finally) Christmas
Sorry for the delay...
Title: (It's finally) Christmas
Fandom: Harry Potter
Wordcount: 3000 (... not really a drabble anymore)
A/N: Sequel to Mulled Wine No. 1 & 2
Very much unbetaed, unfortunately, or it would have taken even longer to post this. Spelling errors are totally intended. ... *cough*
The knock on his door wasn't what Harry would call loud, but it was enough to make him jump and race to the door. Just before he opened it he took a moment to compose himself and to smooth his shirt. Was everything ready? Was his house clean enough and the decorations in order? Well, there wasn't anymore time to check; all that was left was hoping it would be enough.
Harry exhaled deeply, put a (nervous) smile on his face and opened the door.
There he was. Snape, not looking at the door or Harry, but staring at the light-reindeer in Harry's garden. Harry couldn't tell what the expression in his face was supposed to mean.
"Happy Christmas," he greeted his guest and made Snape turn towards him. In his hand, Harry noted, was a little gift wrapped present. His heart happily skipped a beat and his smile widened.
"Happy Christmas, Potter," Snape said and nodded at him, then entered when Harry stepped aside.
Harry led him into the living room, wringing his hands in anticipation as Snape hesitated for a second before walking in completely.
He wasn't sure if Snape had really muttered "Merlin's balls!" or if that had just been his imagination, so Harry decided not to question it and just go with the flow.
"Table's over there," Harry said and pointed to the right, where a middle-sized table stood. It was covered by a red tablecloth and decorated with fir, holly and the red candles he had bought.
Snape still didn't say a thing, so Harry busied himself with filling two glasses with wine. At first he had planned on starting the dinner with champagne or at least sparkling wine, but then he had decided against that idea. Snape had, after all, been very reluctant to agree to the dinner and Harry didn't want to scare him off with some grand gesture.
Harry handed Snape the wine and waited as Snape sniffed it, swaying it in the glass, and sipped it.
"Adequate," Snape said and Harry hoped he didn't only mean the wine. 'Adequate' was quite the praise out of Snape's (oh so very deliciously curved) mouth.
"Thank you," Harry mumbled and raised the glass, "Cheers!"
Dinner itself was a quiet affair. Harry didn't know whether to take this as a good or a bad sign, but rather hoped that the fact that Snape was still sitting at the table was actually good. He just wondered if there was a special reason why Snape was so damn silent. Was there some etiquette that prescribed silence? Harry didn't know much about etiquette, so that might be the case. Or was Snape just generally silent at the table? He definitely wasn't a talkative man, but if Harry had liked that he would have invited Justin Finch-Fletchley instead.
Harry had severed a light soup as a starter, followed by lamb and rosemary-potatoes with green beans in a gammon coat as a main course. And now it was time for the Pudding.
Harry carried it to the table, again biting his lip. It looked quite okay, he thought. More or less like the picture in the cooking book he had used and that had to mean something, right? Carefully he cut out two pieces and served them nervously. Snape only raised an eyebrow at him.
With the first bite Harry knew that something had gone horribly wrong. It tasted salty and a bit like mould and he just knew that it wasn't supposed to be that crunchy. A tentative look at the direction of his piece of Pudding confirmed his suspicion. Egg shells.
Harry jumped up, trying not to look at Snape's face, which probably showed just how terrible the Pudding was, pointed at the Christmas tree and shouted "Look!" to distract his guest. This was quickly followed by "Evanesco!" before Snape even had the chance to comment. Then he raced into the kitchen and contemplated stuffing his head into the stove to escape the embarrassing disaster that was this dinner.
Just when he had fallen to his knees in front of it someone cleared his throat. Harry slowly turned around. Snape stood in the doorway, holding two plates which had carried the Pudding just moments before, and was wearing an amused expression on his face. The whole scene was a bit bizarre.
"Could I get a cup of coffee?" Snape asked and Harry nearly fainted from the thankfulness that flooded his body. He nodded quickly and cast a spell to start the coffee machine.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said and rubbed the back of his hair. "The Pudding was not quite how I wanted it to be."
"That's obvious," Snape said and smirked. Harry ducked his head.
"I have a cake. I wanted to serve it later, but seeing ..." Harry cleared his throat. "It's a Yule log cake."
Snape seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then said. "If it goes well with the coffee..."
They had the coffee and the cake at the coffee table, right in front of the Christmas tree. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, filling the room with warm and that peculiar scent that always made Harry feel a bit sleepy. A light draft caused a couple of the bells in the room to jingle and Snape jerked. They had probably startled him, Harry thought and pretended he didn't notice the glare that Snape sent in the direction of the bells or the holly or the lights.
"I forgot something," Snape suddenly said and started to rummage in his pockets. Harry looked at him interestedly. A smile spread over his face as he watched how Snape enlarged a log. "I wasn't certain whether or not you know of this tradition, Potter, so I took the liberty to prepare a Yule Log for the occasion."
"Thank you. I ... I never burned one myself, but I heard about it," Harry said quietly and trailed off. Both of them got up and stepped to the fireplace, then Snape levitated the log into the fire and they watched it burn together.
Later Harry didn't know anymore how exactly his hand had ended up in Snape's, but it had and Snape's hand had been strong and warm and he never wanted to let it go.
Harry turned to look at Snape, watched the firelight dance on his features and smiled. And suddenly he noticed a movement over their heads. A mistletoe was floating over their heads.
"Look," Harry said once again and blushed. Snape did look up and suddenly had a weird expression on his face. Again one that Harry wasn't able to pinpoint, but Snape didn't look like he was about to move, so Harry just leaned up and planted a soft kiss on Snape's lips.
The other man let out a small gasp as their lips parted from each other, but didn't move away. And suddenly it didn't matter anymore that Snape was quiet and behaved a bit weirdly or that the Pudding had been a catastrophe or that Snape had been glaring at his decoration. He just brought his arms around the other man and hugged him close.
When Snape's arms came around him too, he thought his heart would burst out of his chest every second now.
No matter what Severus had experienced in his life, no matter how terrible things he had already faced, standing in front of Potter's door was worse. Not only because there was this atrocious light-reindeer standing in the snow, staring at him and inspiring the urge to run away in Severus, but also because he had no idea what would happen inside.
But Severus Snape wasn't who he was for nothing, so he put his best glare onto his face, tightened his hold on the present he had got for Potter, and knocked.
Only seconds later the door opened and Potter was standing right in front of him, his eyes wide and shiny. He was looking ... delectable and greeted him cheerfully.
Potter's house was worse than he had expected. It wasn't so much that the house itself was awful, but it looked as if a bomb fill of Christmas cheer had exploded here. The living room seemed to be the centre of the whole chaos and Severus hesitated for a second before walking in. Holly and mistletoe was everywhere, there were red bows and lights and candles covering every surface and a big Christmas tree was standing near the window and the couch. It was predictably decorated with red and gold - but also with silver. That alone was the reason Severus didn't turn and ran.
Something along the lines of "Merlin's balls!" might have escaped his lips, but Severus wasn't so sure about that. He certainly had thought it. How could a single man alone create such a decorative mess? Had Potter bought every single bauble and every bit of tinsel in the region?
There were two hooks at the fireplace, but only a single stocking with Potter's name on it was hanging there, waiting to be filled.
"Table's over there," Potter said and snapped Severus out of his stupor before he could contemplate the lack of a second stocking. There was so much red and green on the table that Severus feared he would become nauseous from just looking at it every second now.
In the end he didn't and took the wine that Potter offered him. Severus sipped carefully and then nodded. It was surprisingly good and it seemed that Potter had a better taste than he had expected. He told Potter so and watched how a pleased blush spread out over Potter's cheek. He rather liked the look, he decided.
The dinner itself proved that even though Potter had been awful at Potions he managed to produce a passable meal. It was eatable and didn't taste off - not exactly - but Severus had had better meals than that. It was one of the reasons why he didn't say anything. He only knew too well that he might be tempted to say his honest opinion, which he feared might hurt Potter's feelings.
How far had he come that he already worried about how Potter was feeling? Hadn't he been normal - by his standards, at least - a couple of weeks ago? Hadn't he been the man who gave a rat's arse about what other people thought - especially of him? And now he sat here, dining peacefully with Harry Potter of all people, admiring the blush that graced his cheeks, and the fire of the candles that was reflected in Potter's glasses.
Severus found that he quite enjoyed himself.
When it had come to pulling the crackers they had been able to double the fun; both he and Potter had bought crackers and instead of deciding to use only two of the four they had pulled all of them. That had resulted in Potter wearing a funny pink hat and a bunny hopping around the living room to then disappear in one of the other rooms.
When Potter served the Pudding Severus had been quite hopeful. He remembered the pudding that his mother had made all too fondly and the promise of a homemade - and that meaning no made by house-elves - pudding was pleasing.
The first bite, though, destroyed all the hope Severus had put into the Pudding. It was ... there was only one word to describe how the Pudding tasted: Disgusting.
It was either spitting the bite out or swallowing in a bit of greatness; Severus wasn't so sure if was quite that nice today. Thankfully Potter solved the matter by jumping up and shouting nonsense, before making the whole Pudding vanish. And then he vanished himself.
He didn't know what made him go after Potter, but when he entered the kitchen he knew it had been a good idea. At least he could save Potter from a being eaten by a stove.
"Could I get a cup of coffee?" he asked.
The Yule cake Potter had made was better and Potter was actually pretty good at producing a decent coffee - definitely a feature that was appealing. They were mostly quiet through this as well, just watched the fire and the Christmas tree.
Severus noticed how Potter became more and sleepier next to him and had to resist the urge to put an arm around him. It was weird, this feeling. There hadn't been anything like this in Severus' heart for a long time now and it was strange, foreign, but not unwelcome. Warm. That was the right way to describe it. When he looked down at Potter he felt warm inside.
Then suddenly a draft of air caused a couple of bells to jingle and Severus couldn't help but jerk. Gone was the peacefulness that had filled him before, destroyed by those god-awful bells that seemed to perpetrate every space that was somehow occupied by Severus. They were haunting, trying to drive him mad! His hand itched towards his wand, but he stopped himself in the last moment before he made the stupid things melt. Instead he just directed a glare at the decorations Potter seemed so fond of.
Severus' eyes then came to rest on the fireplace once more and he remembered something. There was a weight in his pocket, waiting for him to be taken out. The Yule log. Hadn't he bought it specifically so they could burn the log together, just like it was done traditionally?
When he took it out Potter seemed to be happy and slightly bewildered at the same time, so Severus explained quietly what the Yule log stood for and what they would do with it. It seemed that Potter did like the idea quite well, so they proceeded immediately.
Severus hadn't burned a Yule log for a long time now. It had never seemed to be worth the effort. During his time at Hogwarts no-one had really cared about that particular tradition - even though there had been the Yule Ball - and burning one during the war had seemed senseless. Besides it had never made sense to him to burn a log alone.
But now there where the two of them and Severus didn't see the old restrictions anymore.
They stood next to each other, watching how the fire licked at the log, how the log would slowly start to burn. Their sides were nearly touching and later Severus would remember every detail of the moment.
Their hands brushed in the spur of a bit of natural sway and a jolt raced through Severus body that he hadn't felt in a long time. They hadn't looked at each other, Potter and he, but their hands had found each other again, seeking more of that sensation, touching again and then, at the same time, slipping together.
Sentimental people probably would call it magic. Severus called it attraction and refused to dwell further on the topic.
He gripped Potter's hand a bit tighter, enjoying how warm and perfect Harry's hand felt in his hand. Then Potter's thumb gently started to stroke Severus' hand and Potter turned to look at him.
"Look," Harry said after a long while and his voice sounded a bit unreal, out of place and yet wonderful. And he was blushing again. Severus followed Potter's eyes and looked up. There was a mistletoe hovering over their heads and he didn't know whether to emblaze the infuriating plat or whether to just grab Potter and snog him until he forgot everything but him. Both ideas came to a tie and Severus was at a loss. He probably wouldn't have done a thing, but Potter just leaned up and kissed him. Just like that - as if it was so easy.
Severus couldn't help but gasp and pulled back slightly, not being able to grasp that this was real, that this had happened. Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?
He studied Potter's face, saw the happiness on his face. There was something else as well shining in Potter's eyes, but Severus couldn't make anything of it. And then the brat was hugging him and he saw no reason not to hug back.
Eventually they separated. The fire had died down slightly and it had become cooler in the room. Potter mumbled something about mulled wine and walked off to get some, while Severus sat down onto the sofa again.
Weeks ago he wouldn't have thought - ever - that he would be at this place. In Potter's house, in Potter's arms, with Potter's lips on his own. He found that he didn't want to leave.
The next morning Severus and Harry found themselves on the sofa. Both of them felt slightly stiff - unfortunately not in the right places - and had a bit of a crick in their necks from sleeping in weird positions on the couch, but that was alright.
They had shared a couple of reckless cups of mulled wine the night before, had touched each other - hands, faces, lips, shoulders - and had talked. Not a lot, of course, but there had been words involved. Neither Harry nor Severus found they remembered much of their conversation, but both of them knew that it didn't matter, really.
And then, because it was the morning of the 25th, they turned to the Christmas tree and the presents below it.
Harry opened his first, brimming with impatience, but holding himself back slightly as not to appear immature. He couldn't help himself as the present was put in his lap though and ripped the carefully wrapped paper off of the present. Inside he found a scarf. It was dark grey, a colour that apparently suited his skin tone, and so soft that Harry wanted nothing more than curl up with it and nestle to it.
"It is wonderful," Harry said and beamed at Severus, "Thank you so much!" He ended the sentence with a soft kiss to Severus' lips.
Severus was next. He unpacked his present slowly and then pulled a bottle of Odgen's fines whiskey out of a nice, wooden box. He looked at it with a bit of scrutiny, wondering what had made Harry buy something like this for him.
"I was hoping we could have a drink together," Harry mumbled shyly and didn't dare to look at Severus' face. He had searched for ages for the perfect present for Severus, but hadn't found anything that could actually satisfy him.
Severus took Harry's hand in his and squeezed it.
"That could be arranged, I think."