Snarry advent calendar
Dec. 24th, 2006 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesyeuxvertsTitle: Snarry advent calendar
Author: lesyeuxverts00
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: A series of 24 unconnected Snarry drabbles (and double drabbles) written for![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-community.gif)
adventdrabbles. Ratings (most are PG-13, a few are R) and warnings marked individually.
December 1st, Christmas Surprise, PG-13
Severus arranges everything, mulled wine and candles, an elaborate dinner, the Yule log and the insipid carols that Harry prefers. There's a gingerbread castle with tiny fairies skating on the spun-sugar lake, mistletoe and garlands and a wretched evergreen that makes Severus sneeze.
Harry, unaware of Severus's plans, chose to spend Christmas Eve with the Weasleys, a note on their pillow telling Severus not to wait up late.
Severus surveys the wasted decorations. Pouring himself a glass of wine, Severus sits by the fire and aims his wand at the holly berries - pop, pop, pop - they explode, spattering the hearth. The garlands are slashed into green shreds with another wave of his wand and the tree is rendered into sawdust.
The wine tastes of cinnamon, and Severus imagines heated kisses and the taste of it warm on Harry's tongue.
With the pop of Apparation, Harry is there, his cheeks flushed with the cold, his arms full of packages. "Surprise ... Severus?" he says, blinking at the carnage.
Harry drops the parcels and wraps Severus in his arms, showering him with kisses on his jaw, his cheekbone, his earlobe, his lips. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting ... Merry Christmas, love."
December 2nd, Home for Christmas, PG-13
The post office is crowded, and Harry suffers through the line, ignoring the other last-minute shoppers who jostle him with their bags.
The owl nips his finger as Harry stares at the blank parchment. He strokes its dark feathers, chewing on the end of his pen.
He has no words for this – their first Christmas apart, the absence of Severus's kisses, the cold bed and lonely bottle of Firewhiskey in his hotel room. In the end, he writes nothing and sets the owl back on its perch.
Harry closes his eyes and Apparates – to warmth, to home, and to Severus.
December 3rd, Christmas in Azkaban, PG-13
AN: Inspired by the scene in the movie "Little Women" where Jo sees Laurie ("the captive") in the carriage. The song that Harry is singing is the "Wassail Song."
His spine straight, his hands folded, Severus keeps his posture perfect even when the wheels hit a rut and the carriage shudders. The Thestrals, silent and efficient, care nothing for his comfort. His soulless companion cares nothing for his dignity.
Black-robed figures are caroling in the snowy lane. Severus turns his head to see Harry Potter. They stare at each other for an infinite moment, and then Potter raises his glass to Severus.
Sounds echo in the cold air. Potter sings, "Love and joy come to you," just as the carriage jerks in the lane, taking Severus away from him.
December 4th, Christmas Assignation, PG-13
AN: AU, yeah? Post-Hogwarts, no HBP.
The taste of mulled wine is heavy on Harry's tongue. Staring across the plum pudding at Severus, he mouths the question, "Your rooms or mine?"
With a quirk of his eyebrows, Severus tilts his head, indicating the Headmistress in the middle of her Christmas speech. Under the table, their feet touch. Harry slips off his shoe to run his foot up Severus's leg.
Harry takes another sip of wine, licking the last drops from his lips. Severus stands, his chair clattering to the floor.
He strides past Harry, robes fluttering, pausing to whisper in his ear. "My rooms, ten minutes."
December 5th, Christmas Cheer, PG-13
Gingerbread, mulled cider, cookies – the kitchen is scented with sugar and spice and Christmas. Harry hums along with the wireless, decorating the cake with marzipan.
A blast of cold air raises goose-bumps on his bare forearms and neck. "Severus?"
Severus takes off his cloak, shaking snowflakes onto the cake. "Turn off the wireless, Potter."
Harry offers Severus a mug of cider and a slice of gingerbread.
"There are starving orphans who don't consume that many calories in a week, Potter. Don't expect me to indulge."
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Slamming the mug down, Harry stalks out of the kitchen.
December 6th, Christmas Seduction, PG-13
AN: With thanks to![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
svartalfur for the prompt "candy cane."
Harry slips his feet under Severus's blanket, receiving a sharp reprimand when his cold toes touch Severus's thigh. He slides his tongue along the length of his candy cane, following the white spiral from base to crook.
Severus closes his book with a bang. "Will you stop that indecent moaning?"
Sucking on the tip of the candy, Harry closes his eyes. "I love peppermint."
"Lovely. I'll go reformulate all of our household potions to give them a peppermint flavor."
December 7th, Christmas Party, PG-13
AN: Thanks tonessime_lisen for the prompt, "Harry and Severus at an Absinthe party, with Harry passing out the sugar."
The absinthe shines, reflecting the Christmas lights with red and gold highlights against the fey green. Harry squirms in Severus's lap and holds the silver bowl of sugar cubes out of his reach.
Severus jabs Harry with an elbow in the ribs and hits his cheekbone with the absinthe spoon. "Insufferable brat."
"What? Do you want one of these?" Harry pops a sugar cube in his mouth and holds it between his teeth, perfect and white between his lips. He leans forward, offering it to Severus.
Their lips meet in a kiss, and Severus steals the bowl of sugar cubes.
Severus dumps the blanket on Harry's lap and pauses on the threshold. "Next time, try not to be so obvious, Potter."
December 8th, Christmas Savior, PG-13
Trapped between Minerva and Pomona, Harry looks around the staffroom and gives a little shrug when the floating mistletoe pauses above his head. They begin to bicker over the right to kiss him. Harry closes his eyes.
There's a breath of air against his lips, warm with hints of cardamom and eggnog. Firm hands grasp his shoulders and pull him forward. He leans into the warmth.
There's a brush of lips, a sparkle of electricity running down his spine. Harry parts his lips, leaning into the kiss.
Harry opens his eyes. "My savior," he says, pushing Severus under the mistletoe.
December 9th, Christmas Comfort, PG-13
Potter smells of peppermint breath-freshening charms, and Severus catches him when he stumbles. He smiles up at Severus, sloppy and half-focused.
Severus sighs. There's warm breath against his neck, Potter's lips on his collarbone, and he grabs Potter by the arms and drags him toward the guest room. Stumbling and half-conscious, Potter struggles in Severus's grasp. "If you hadn't gone to that holiday party ..."
"But Sev, love you. Don't make me sleep here 'thout you."
Severus tucks the quilt around Potter and hesitates. He stretches out by Potter's side, one arm around him, to watch over him through the night.
December 10th, Christmas Betrayal, PG-13
AN: warning for infidelity
The Floo flares at last and Severus hears a thud in the other room. The silence is broken by whispers and muffled laughter, and he hears the Floo again.
Potter stumbles to the bed, smearing soot onto the sheets. His breath is heavy with eggnog and spices. His skin is hot with the smell of another man's cologne. Severus rolls away from his outstretched arm.
The other side of the bed is cold. Shadows flicker on the wall, eerie and furtive. Severus waits until Potter's breathing deepens, and then he yanks all the blankets to his side of the bed.
December 11th, Christmas Baking, R
AN: warning for ambiguity, forced bonding, possible character death (or possible waste of a perfectly good almond-flavored sugar cookie)
The kitchen smells of almonds and Severus suspects cyanide.
The bond between them snaps taut and Harry turns away from the oven. "Severus, I didn't expect you home early. Sugar cookie? They're still warm."
"I dislike holiday frippery."
Harry holds out a cookie. With a flick of his wand, Severus blasts the cookie into ash. The fire singes Harry's fingers. He yelps, glaring at Severus.
Severus relents and heals the burn.
"Well, I know one holiday tradition that you'll like," Harry says, pointing at the mistletoe. He steps closer and kisses Severus.
His soft lips taste of sugar and almonds.
December 12th, Christmas Questions, PG-13
AN: warning for cross-dressing, sort of
Staring in the mirror, Severus practices his simper and twirls a red braid between his fingers. He brushes the foul taste from his mouth and, grimacing, applies a cherry-flavored lipgloss. He blots away the excess and spritzes himself with cloying perfume.
He exits the loo and grabs a glass of eggnog, adding a careful three drops from a vial. He downs a second glass with a shudder. Alcohol burns this unfamiliar throat.
He simpers, fluttering his eyelashes. "You look thirsty, Harry."
Harry bites his lip, looking askance at the glass. "No thanks, Ginny. Say, have you seen where Severus went?"
December 13th, Christmas Remedy, PG-13
The Horcruxes, destroyed, eat away at Harry's nerves. They burn like fire, like ice, tearing at his skin like acid and base. Mangled, unclean, he staggers to his knees at his parents' graves.
Someone has left poinsettias there, blood red against the speckled stone. Harry rests his forehead against the cool tombstone. "Mum ..."
A hand grasps his shoulder, nails piercing his skin. "Drink this, Potter."
Snape is a light in the shadow, his voice a melody, crystalline and breakable, in the silence. Harry swallows the offered potion.
It burns through his veins, neither hot nor cold, and he shudders.
December 14th, Christmas Farewell, R
AN: warning for character death
Snowflakes brush across Harry's cheeks like feathery freckles, and Severus bends down to melt them away with kisses. The wild wet taste of the snowflakes dissolves on Severus's tongue. Harry's skin is cold.
This cave at the end of the lake, at the end of the world, is still washed in eerie green light, flickers of reflections from the crystal-flecked stone. There's an echo through the cave, the last murmur of magic, the last spell spoken, still vibrating and resonant.
Severus sighs, his breath a puff of mist dissipating in the cold air, and bends down to close Harry's eyes.
December 15th, Christmas Cooperation, PG-13
The glow from the tree, a thousand fairy lights, silhouettes Harry. He stretches, a graceful extension of arm and spine and legs, his body arching upward on tiptoes. His fingers clutch the last gold star, reaching for the top of the tree.
Harry wobbles, falling back on flat feet, and Severus snorts. Harry's wand sticks out of his back pocket, all magic ignored as he insists on decorating the tree by hand. Severus comes to stand behind him, giving his arse a quick squeeze. He grasps Harry's fingers.
Together, they reach up and place the last star on the tree.
December 16th, Christmas Vigil, PG-13
The firefly gleam of candles, orange-gold in the dark, wakes Severus. Harry's by the window, outlined by the moonlight, his forehead pressed against the glass.
Severus shivers in the cold and crosses the room to wrap Harry in his arms.
Harry presses a kiss onto Severus's hand. "This is our first Christmas together."
"Come to bed, Harry." Severus rubs the ridged column of Harry's vertebrae, caressing the familiar knobs and lumps. Harry leans back against him with a tiny sigh, and Severus leans down to kiss his temple.
"There's no need to keep vigil, my love. Come back to bed."
December 17th, Christmas Argument, PG-13
Quicksilver beads form on the surface of the potion, bubbling to the top. A pop sounds behind Severus but he closes his eyes, stirs counterclockwise three times.
Potter jabs him in the ribs and Severus's hand falters over the cauldron. "What could you possibly want now, you presumptuous lout? Have you disturbed me for a reason, or is it more of your whining and petty trivia?"
Liquid gleams, quicksilver and fleeting, at the surface of the ruined potion, the cauldron's contents congealing.
"I wanted my husband to spend Christmas with his family," Harry says behind him. "I've changed my mind."
December 18th, Christmas Kiss, PG-13
Severus has a second's warning before Potter's big hands grasp his shoulders, and he stiffens, turning away. He's ill-prepared for this confrontation.
Potter presses closer, thrusting a knee between Severus's legs. He leans in to nuzzle Severus's ear. "One move to your wand and I'll knee you in the groin," he whispers before swooping in for a kiss.
Their lips mash together for a second. Severus draws back, bewildered, and Potter points up at the mistletoe.
Severus blinks. There, nestled on a festive tartan wrap, the ponderous stone Pensieve looks out of place in the middle of the holiday party.
December 19th, A Not-So Secret Exchange, R
AN: Thanks tosvartalfur for the prompt - Harry giving Severus a gift in a secret exchange at a staff holiday party. Cross-posted to snarry100, challenge 37.
Severus sneers at the crumpled paper that littered the staff room and brandishes his wand. His bright-colored paper disintegrates, uncovering a plain box. Flitwick snickers into his cordial and Trelawney wails, light flashing off her multifaceted beads. Severus's wand twitches as he checkes the box for curses.
A sparkle of magic, glittering blue, gleams around the box. Across the room, Potter drops his eggnog, splattering it over the floor and over-stuffed armchairs, when Severus gives a flick of his wand, banishing the ice-blue haze.
Severus opens the box and slams it shut again, his gaze enough to quench Potter's laughter.
---
Severus places the box in the center of the table. He does not look at Potter.
"Of all the impudent, irresponsible, immature, inconsiderate, ill-advised ..."
"You own a dictionary, I know."
"How dare you mock me?"
"It was disguised as stationary, you paranoid bastard."
Blasting the box open with a spell, Severus pins Harry against the wall. "It was hardly disguised."
"If you hadn't ..."
Severus stops his mouth with a hard, unyielding kiss. Stripping Harry of his clothes with a spell, Severus fumbles for one of the vials in the box. He pours some scented lubricant into his palm.
December 20th, Christmas Wedding, PG-13
Severus's allergy to pine needles did not manifest until his wedding. Red-eyed and sniffling, he glares over the beribboned wreaths at Molly Weasley. She wrings her hands and flutters on the threshold before fleeing.
He waits, casting stealthy looks at the door, and then wipes his eyes and dashes down the hallway.
"Harry?"
Muffled noises, and Harry pokes his head out the door. "Molly says ..."
"Hang Molly and her infernal fussing."
Their kiss is sweet, as tentative as a first kiss, lips pressed together and the sign of breaths commingling.
"Marry me, my love."
Severus sneezes. "Any day but Christmas."
December 21st, A Blessed Yule, PG-13
Fire-flowers blossom in the hearth, their beauty sharp and fleeting. Severus curls his fingers through the sparse hair on Potter's belly. With a touch of soft soot, he marks the whorl of his thumbprint on Potter's skin.
Moonlight shimmers through the window and casts shadows onto Potter's face, darkening his cheekbones and lips. Severus presses a kiss on the back of his neck.
They're curled together like the whorl on a snail shell, a spiral into warmth. Potter shifts, sleepy and murmuring, leaning into Severus. "A blessed Yule to you, my love," Severus whispers into the curve of his ear.
December 22nd, Christmas Cleaning, PG-13
The room was cluttered with stacks of books, unrolled scrolls on every table, half-made potions bubbling in their cauldrons, empty brandy glasses teetering on their precarious perches. Severus had forgotten his promise to clean.
Harry surveyed the disaster, fist clenched around his wand, and called for his husband. "Severus!"
A smirk, a flick, a spell, and a miniature tornado swept through the room, swallowing dust and grime, banishing all of Severus's scattered possessions.
"You little brat ..."
"Our guests arrive in an hour," Harry says, with a sweet kiss on Severus's cheek. "You'll get your things back if you behave."
December 23rd, Christmas in St. Mungo's, PG-13
Harry's hands are cold. Severus strokes the translucent skin, tracing the blue veins. The pulse at the wrist is irregular. He raises Harry's palm to his mouth for a kiss, and the skin is dry, the smells of curse-smoke and sweat clinging to it.
Severus leans forward to lift each eyelid. Vivid green sparks, the backwash of an uncontrolled Killing Curse, still dance in Harry's eyes.
There's the rustle of cloth and the clicking of heels in the corridor, a nurse approaching. Severus bends down for a last kiss.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers into Harry's closed lips before he Disapparates.
December 24th, Almost Late for Christmas, R
Harry slips into Severus's cottage on light feet, his arms full of packages. "On the last day of advent, my true love gave to me ..." he sings, and stops short when he realizes that the cottage is deserted.
The smell of plum pudding hangs heavy in the air, but soot wafts from the smoky embers in the fireplace and the candles have burned down to irregular white lumps. Harry touches one and finds it still warm. The imprint of his finger lingers in the wax.
"Severus?" Harry calls. The echoes of his voice resonate through the empty air.
----
The clutter has been cleared, and the plum pudding finished. Harry makes spiced cider and waits by the flickering fire, but still Severus does not come.
The village clock chimes midnight, the echoes waking Harry from his drowse. He blinks, and his dark Severus is there, kneeling by the fire, by his side.
"Merry Christmas," Severus says, peppering his face with kisses. Mint lingers on his breath, a cool counterpoint to his warm fingers. They twine together on the hearth, fingers and lips exploring, rediscovering as though for the first time.
Breathless, happy, Harry pulls away. "Merry Christmas," he says.
Author: lesyeuxverts00
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: A series of 24 unconnected Snarry drabbles (and double drabbles) written for
adventdrabbles. Ratings (most are PG-13, a few are R) and warnings marked individually.December 1st, Christmas Surprise, PG-13
Severus arranges everything, mulled wine and candles, an elaborate dinner, the Yule log and the insipid carols that Harry prefers. There's a gingerbread castle with tiny fairies skating on the spun-sugar lake, mistletoe and garlands and a wretched evergreen that makes Severus sneeze.
Harry, unaware of Severus's plans, chose to spend Christmas Eve with the Weasleys, a note on their pillow telling Severus not to wait up late.
Severus surveys the wasted decorations. Pouring himself a glass of wine, Severus sits by the fire and aims his wand at the holly berries - pop, pop, pop - they explode, spattering the hearth. The garlands are slashed into green shreds with another wave of his wand and the tree is rendered into sawdust.
The wine tastes of cinnamon, and Severus imagines heated kisses and the taste of it warm on Harry's tongue.
With the pop of Apparation, Harry is there, his cheeks flushed with the cold, his arms full of packages. "Surprise ... Severus?" he says, blinking at the carnage.
Harry drops the parcels and wraps Severus in his arms, showering him with kisses on his jaw, his cheekbone, his earlobe, his lips. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting ... Merry Christmas, love."
December 2nd, Home for Christmas, PG-13
The post office is crowded, and Harry suffers through the line, ignoring the other last-minute shoppers who jostle him with their bags.
The owl nips his finger as Harry stares at the blank parchment. He strokes its dark feathers, chewing on the end of his pen.
He has no words for this – their first Christmas apart, the absence of Severus's kisses, the cold bed and lonely bottle of Firewhiskey in his hotel room. In the end, he writes nothing and sets the owl back on its perch.
Harry closes his eyes and Apparates – to warmth, to home, and to Severus.
December 3rd, Christmas in Azkaban, PG-13
AN: Inspired by the scene in the movie "Little Women" where Jo sees Laurie ("the captive") in the carriage. The song that Harry is singing is the "Wassail Song."
His spine straight, his hands folded, Severus keeps his posture perfect even when the wheels hit a rut and the carriage shudders. The Thestrals, silent and efficient, care nothing for his comfort. His soulless companion cares nothing for his dignity.
Black-robed figures are caroling in the snowy lane. Severus turns his head to see Harry Potter. They stare at each other for an infinite moment, and then Potter raises his glass to Severus.
Sounds echo in the cold air. Potter sings, "Love and joy come to you," just as the carriage jerks in the lane, taking Severus away from him.
December 4th, Christmas Assignation, PG-13
AN: AU, yeah? Post-Hogwarts, no HBP.
The taste of mulled wine is heavy on Harry's tongue. Staring across the plum pudding at Severus, he mouths the question, "Your rooms or mine?"
With a quirk of his eyebrows, Severus tilts his head, indicating the Headmistress in the middle of her Christmas speech. Under the table, their feet touch. Harry slips off his shoe to run his foot up Severus's leg.
Harry takes another sip of wine, licking the last drops from his lips. Severus stands, his chair clattering to the floor.
He strides past Harry, robes fluttering, pausing to whisper in his ear. "My rooms, ten minutes."
December 5th, Christmas Cheer, PG-13
Gingerbread, mulled cider, cookies – the kitchen is scented with sugar and spice and Christmas. Harry hums along with the wireless, decorating the cake with marzipan.
A blast of cold air raises goose-bumps on his bare forearms and neck. "Severus?"
Severus takes off his cloak, shaking snowflakes onto the cake. "Turn off the wireless, Potter."
Harry offers Severus a mug of cider and a slice of gingerbread.
"There are starving orphans who don't consume that many calories in a week, Potter. Don't expect me to indulge."
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Slamming the mug down, Harry stalks out of the kitchen.
December 6th, Christmas Seduction, PG-13
AN: With thanks to
svartalfur for the prompt "candy cane." Harry slips his feet under Severus's blanket, receiving a sharp reprimand when his cold toes touch Severus's thigh. He slides his tongue along the length of his candy cane, following the white spiral from base to crook.
Severus closes his book with a bang. "Will you stop that indecent moaning?"
Sucking on the tip of the candy, Harry closes his eyes. "I love peppermint."
"Lovely. I'll go reformulate all of our household potions to give them a peppermint flavor."
December 7th, Christmas Party, PG-13
AN: Thanks to
nessime_lisen for the prompt, "Harry and Severus at an Absinthe party, with Harry passing out the sugar."The absinthe shines, reflecting the Christmas lights with red and gold highlights against the fey green. Harry squirms in Severus's lap and holds the silver bowl of sugar cubes out of his reach.
Severus jabs Harry with an elbow in the ribs and hits his cheekbone with the absinthe spoon. "Insufferable brat."
"What? Do you want one of these?" Harry pops a sugar cube in his mouth and holds it between his teeth, perfect and white between his lips. He leans forward, offering it to Severus.
Their lips meet in a kiss, and Severus steals the bowl of sugar cubes.
Severus dumps the blanket on Harry's lap and pauses on the threshold. "Next time, try not to be so obvious, Potter."
December 8th, Christmas Savior, PG-13
Trapped between Minerva and Pomona, Harry looks around the staffroom and gives a little shrug when the floating mistletoe pauses above his head. They begin to bicker over the right to kiss him. Harry closes his eyes.
There's a breath of air against his lips, warm with hints of cardamom and eggnog. Firm hands grasp his shoulders and pull him forward. He leans into the warmth.
There's a brush of lips, a sparkle of electricity running down his spine. Harry parts his lips, leaning into the kiss.
Harry opens his eyes. "My savior," he says, pushing Severus under the mistletoe.
December 9th, Christmas Comfort, PG-13
Potter smells of peppermint breath-freshening charms, and Severus catches him when he stumbles. He smiles up at Severus, sloppy and half-focused.
Severus sighs. There's warm breath against his neck, Potter's lips on his collarbone, and he grabs Potter by the arms and drags him toward the guest room. Stumbling and half-conscious, Potter struggles in Severus's grasp. "If you hadn't gone to that holiday party ..."
"But Sev, love you. Don't make me sleep here 'thout you."
Severus tucks the quilt around Potter and hesitates. He stretches out by Potter's side, one arm around him, to watch over him through the night.
December 10th, Christmas Betrayal, PG-13
AN: warning for infidelity
The Floo flares at last and Severus hears a thud in the other room. The silence is broken by whispers and muffled laughter, and he hears the Floo again.
Potter stumbles to the bed, smearing soot onto the sheets. His breath is heavy with eggnog and spices. His skin is hot with the smell of another man's cologne. Severus rolls away from his outstretched arm.
The other side of the bed is cold. Shadows flicker on the wall, eerie and furtive. Severus waits until Potter's breathing deepens, and then he yanks all the blankets to his side of the bed.
December 11th, Christmas Baking, R
AN: warning for ambiguity, forced bonding, possible character death (or possible waste of a perfectly good almond-flavored sugar cookie)
The kitchen smells of almonds and Severus suspects cyanide.
The bond between them snaps taut and Harry turns away from the oven. "Severus, I didn't expect you home early. Sugar cookie? They're still warm."
"I dislike holiday frippery."
Harry holds out a cookie. With a flick of his wand, Severus blasts the cookie into ash. The fire singes Harry's fingers. He yelps, glaring at Severus.
Severus relents and heals the burn.
"Well, I know one holiday tradition that you'll like," Harry says, pointing at the mistletoe. He steps closer and kisses Severus.
His soft lips taste of sugar and almonds.
December 12th, Christmas Questions, PG-13
AN: warning for cross-dressing, sort of
Staring in the mirror, Severus practices his simper and twirls a red braid between his fingers. He brushes the foul taste from his mouth and, grimacing, applies a cherry-flavored lipgloss. He blots away the excess and spritzes himself with cloying perfume.
He exits the loo and grabs a glass of eggnog, adding a careful three drops from a vial. He downs a second glass with a shudder. Alcohol burns this unfamiliar throat.
He simpers, fluttering his eyelashes. "You look thirsty, Harry."
Harry bites his lip, looking askance at the glass. "No thanks, Ginny. Say, have you seen where Severus went?"
December 13th, Christmas Remedy, PG-13
The Horcruxes, destroyed, eat away at Harry's nerves. They burn like fire, like ice, tearing at his skin like acid and base. Mangled, unclean, he staggers to his knees at his parents' graves.
Someone has left poinsettias there, blood red against the speckled stone. Harry rests his forehead against the cool tombstone. "Mum ..."
A hand grasps his shoulder, nails piercing his skin. "Drink this, Potter."
Snape is a light in the shadow, his voice a melody, crystalline and breakable, in the silence. Harry swallows the offered potion.
It burns through his veins, neither hot nor cold, and he shudders.
December 14th, Christmas Farewell, R
AN: warning for character death
Snowflakes brush across Harry's cheeks like feathery freckles, and Severus bends down to melt them away with kisses. The wild wet taste of the snowflakes dissolves on Severus's tongue. Harry's skin is cold.
This cave at the end of the lake, at the end of the world, is still washed in eerie green light, flickers of reflections from the crystal-flecked stone. There's an echo through the cave, the last murmur of magic, the last spell spoken, still vibrating and resonant.
Severus sighs, his breath a puff of mist dissipating in the cold air, and bends down to close Harry's eyes.
December 15th, Christmas Cooperation, PG-13
The glow from the tree, a thousand fairy lights, silhouettes Harry. He stretches, a graceful extension of arm and spine and legs, his body arching upward on tiptoes. His fingers clutch the last gold star, reaching for the top of the tree.
Harry wobbles, falling back on flat feet, and Severus snorts. Harry's wand sticks out of his back pocket, all magic ignored as he insists on decorating the tree by hand. Severus comes to stand behind him, giving his arse a quick squeeze. He grasps Harry's fingers.
Together, they reach up and place the last star on the tree.
December 16th, Christmas Vigil, PG-13
The firefly gleam of candles, orange-gold in the dark, wakes Severus. Harry's by the window, outlined by the moonlight, his forehead pressed against the glass.
Severus shivers in the cold and crosses the room to wrap Harry in his arms.
Harry presses a kiss onto Severus's hand. "This is our first Christmas together."
"Come to bed, Harry." Severus rubs the ridged column of Harry's vertebrae, caressing the familiar knobs and lumps. Harry leans back against him with a tiny sigh, and Severus leans down to kiss his temple.
"There's no need to keep vigil, my love. Come back to bed."
December 17th, Christmas Argument, PG-13
Quicksilver beads form on the surface of the potion, bubbling to the top. A pop sounds behind Severus but he closes his eyes, stirs counterclockwise three times.
Potter jabs him in the ribs and Severus's hand falters over the cauldron. "What could you possibly want now, you presumptuous lout? Have you disturbed me for a reason, or is it more of your whining and petty trivia?"
Liquid gleams, quicksilver and fleeting, at the surface of the ruined potion, the cauldron's contents congealing.
"I wanted my husband to spend Christmas with his family," Harry says behind him. "I've changed my mind."
December 18th, Christmas Kiss, PG-13
Severus has a second's warning before Potter's big hands grasp his shoulders, and he stiffens, turning away. He's ill-prepared for this confrontation.
Potter presses closer, thrusting a knee between Severus's legs. He leans in to nuzzle Severus's ear. "One move to your wand and I'll knee you in the groin," he whispers before swooping in for a kiss.
Their lips mash together for a second. Severus draws back, bewildered, and Potter points up at the mistletoe.
Severus blinks. There, nestled on a festive tartan wrap, the ponderous stone Pensieve looks out of place in the middle of the holiday party.
December 19th, A Not-So Secret Exchange, R
AN: Thanks to
svartalfur for the prompt - Harry giving Severus a gift in a secret exchange at a staff holiday party. Cross-posted to snarry100, challenge 37.Severus sneers at the crumpled paper that littered the staff room and brandishes his wand. His bright-colored paper disintegrates, uncovering a plain box. Flitwick snickers into his cordial and Trelawney wails, light flashing off her multifaceted beads. Severus's wand twitches as he checkes the box for curses.
A sparkle of magic, glittering blue, gleams around the box. Across the room, Potter drops his eggnog, splattering it over the floor and over-stuffed armchairs, when Severus gives a flick of his wand, banishing the ice-blue haze.
Severus opens the box and slams it shut again, his gaze enough to quench Potter's laughter.
---
Severus places the box in the center of the table. He does not look at Potter.
"Of all the impudent, irresponsible, immature, inconsiderate, ill-advised ..."
"You own a dictionary, I know."
"How dare you mock me?"
"It was disguised as stationary, you paranoid bastard."
Blasting the box open with a spell, Severus pins Harry against the wall. "It was hardly disguised."
"If you hadn't ..."
Severus stops his mouth with a hard, unyielding kiss. Stripping Harry of his clothes with a spell, Severus fumbles for one of the vials in the box. He pours some scented lubricant into his palm.
December 20th, Christmas Wedding, PG-13
Severus's allergy to pine needles did not manifest until his wedding. Red-eyed and sniffling, he glares over the beribboned wreaths at Molly Weasley. She wrings her hands and flutters on the threshold before fleeing.
He waits, casting stealthy looks at the door, and then wipes his eyes and dashes down the hallway.
"Harry?"
Muffled noises, and Harry pokes his head out the door. "Molly says ..."
"Hang Molly and her infernal fussing."
Their kiss is sweet, as tentative as a first kiss, lips pressed together and the sign of breaths commingling.
"Marry me, my love."
Severus sneezes. "Any day but Christmas."
December 21st, A Blessed Yule, PG-13
Fire-flowers blossom in the hearth, their beauty sharp and fleeting. Severus curls his fingers through the sparse hair on Potter's belly. With a touch of soft soot, he marks the whorl of his thumbprint on Potter's skin.
Moonlight shimmers through the window and casts shadows onto Potter's face, darkening his cheekbones and lips. Severus presses a kiss on the back of his neck.
They're curled together like the whorl on a snail shell, a spiral into warmth. Potter shifts, sleepy and murmuring, leaning into Severus. "A blessed Yule to you, my love," Severus whispers into the curve of his ear.
December 22nd, Christmas Cleaning, PG-13
The room was cluttered with stacks of books, unrolled scrolls on every table, half-made potions bubbling in their cauldrons, empty brandy glasses teetering on their precarious perches. Severus had forgotten his promise to clean.
Harry surveyed the disaster, fist clenched around his wand, and called for his husband. "Severus!"
A smirk, a flick, a spell, and a miniature tornado swept through the room, swallowing dust and grime, banishing all of Severus's scattered possessions.
"You little brat ..."
"Our guests arrive in an hour," Harry says, with a sweet kiss on Severus's cheek. "You'll get your things back if you behave."
December 23rd, Christmas in St. Mungo's, PG-13
Harry's hands are cold. Severus strokes the translucent skin, tracing the blue veins. The pulse at the wrist is irregular. He raises Harry's palm to his mouth for a kiss, and the skin is dry, the smells of curse-smoke and sweat clinging to it.
Severus leans forward to lift each eyelid. Vivid green sparks, the backwash of an uncontrolled Killing Curse, still dance in Harry's eyes.
There's the rustle of cloth and the clicking of heels in the corridor, a nurse approaching. Severus bends down for a last kiss.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers into Harry's closed lips before he Disapparates.
December 24th, Almost Late for Christmas, R
Harry slips into Severus's cottage on light feet, his arms full of packages. "On the last day of advent, my true love gave to me ..." he sings, and stops short when he realizes that the cottage is deserted.
The smell of plum pudding hangs heavy in the air, but soot wafts from the smoky embers in the fireplace and the candles have burned down to irregular white lumps. Harry touches one and finds it still warm. The imprint of his finger lingers in the wax.
"Severus?" Harry calls. The echoes of his voice resonate through the empty air.
----
The clutter has been cleared, and the plum pudding finished. Harry makes spiced cider and waits by the flickering fire, but still Severus does not come.
The village clock chimes midnight, the echoes waking Harry from his drowse. He blinks, and his dark Severus is there, kneeling by the fire, by his side.
"Merry Christmas," Severus says, peppering his face with kisses. Mint lingers on his breath, a cool counterpoint to his warm fingers. They twine together on the hearth, fingers and lips exploring, rediscovering as though for the first time.
Breathless, happy, Harry pulls away. "Merry Christmas," he says.
