Just brilliant. Beautifully written, with each of the seasons presented so evocatively, their colors and scents blending with the changes in Aberforth and Severus's relationship to turn character and nature into an organic. seamless whole. That last image of honey-scented gold is just perfect. The wassail scene -- I could smell the oranges and ginger. I have so many favorite lines and moments, but I'll content myself with one: A few hands of All Fours and a round of Piquet took them through the cold hours and into the dawning of Christmas Day. This line sort of sums up the beauty of this fic: it captures the season, the two men's reticent characters (well, one boy and one man), and the poignant, sad tenderness of it it. Great story.