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Harry looked down, aware that his very private lover might be upset by people knowing, but there was nothing to be done about it. These people were his family, and there was no way he could hide something this important from them. "Actually, I believe Ron told her when he firecalled her two weeks ago."
"I see," Severus said in that unreadable tone that drove Harry mad.
Harry supposed it was better than shouting, but only just. Finally, his nerves forced him to ask, "So, what do you think?"
Harry braced himself for the 'you needn't involve me so deeply in your personal life' spiel that made him insane every time he heard it, but for once those weren't the first words out of Severus' mouth. Even though he saw Severus' Adam's apple bob, a sure sign of his nervousness, he still felt like he'd won a major victory when the self-deprecating denial he was expecting failed to materialize.
After a silent moment, Severus quietly asked, "How adversely will it affect . . . our situation if I decline?"
That Severus would ask that question at all meant a lot. Harry could see that he really didn't want to go to the Weasleys', but would accompany him if he really wanted him to. Harry let the hand resting over Severus' shoulders reach up to play with a hank of his lover's unwashed hair as he answered, "Not at all. I know you don't like crowds."
"In that case, I will decline, if you truly don't mind," Severus said.
Reading the uneasiness in his lover's pain-filled features, Harry assured him, "That's fine. Maybe next year you'll feel more comfortable with the idea."
Severus tensed beside him and whispered in a hoarse sounding voice, "Next year?"
Loving the blown away look that Severus was trying very hard to cover, Harry smiled and said, "Yes, next year."
Harry watched Severus avert his gaze. He knew his lover was attempting to regain his composure. After a moment, Severus turned back and asked with a clearly forced suspicion that was belied by the warmth in his dark eyes, "Was that all the traditions?"
"Well . . . Ron's off tomorrow night. They're going to decorate the tree then. I, er, I really like to do that with them."
"And you wish me to accompany you to this as well?" Severus checked.
"Well, you wouldn't have to actually do anything. I mean, you could just sit there and grade papers while we put the stuff up, but, yeah, I'd really like you to be there with me," Harry said, hoping he wasn't pushing too hard. It almost felt like they were negotiating a contract here, with each of them trying to ascertain how much the other was willing to give.
To his utter shock and delight, Severus gave a grudging nod, "As you wish."
"Thank you, Severus," he said, leaning over to kiss Severus' unusually stubbly cheek. He'd forgotten to perform a depilatory spell on Severus this morning when he'd cast the cleansing charm over them both. Of course, the poor bloke's head had been aching so badly from the intense magic he'd performed to rid him of those god-awful nightmares that Severus probably hadn't even noticed his whiskers. Harry hated how much helping him drained his lover. Severus' long face was practically grey with exhaustion.
As the man stifled yet another yawn, Harry asked, "Are you about ready for bed?"
"It's barely gone nine," Severus replied, although there was no argument in his tone.
"It's been a long day for us both. Come on. We'll be more comfortable horizontal."
That self-conscious expression that Severus sometimes wore before he said something very foolish shadowed his features. "I realize that . . . keeping me company on nights like this can't be very . . . entertaining to you."
It was like no one had ever truly given a damn about the man in his entire life. Early in their relationship, those types of comments had driven Harry crazy, for they seemed to question his character, but now he knew that Severus simply didn't get it. Severus was more than capable of giving the support that showed Harry he loved him, but Severus was simply incapable of understanding that he was worthy of similar devotion. So, he held his temper and mildly retorted, "And I'm sure draining your last bit of power mucking about in my rape nightmare is how you define an entertaining evening."
A faint blush coloured those too-pale cheeks, "That's –"
"No different," Harry insisted. "You wouldn't be in such pain if you hadn't helped me. And don't even suggest that I come back when you're feeling better. You're stuck with me. So, come to bed."
Harry stood up and gave Severus a hand up. Extinguishing the wall sconces with a thought, he slipped his arm around his lover's waist and led him to the bedroom. Normally, he would have undressed Severus by hand and taken great delight in each gradual unveiling, but tonight he simply transfigured Severus' clothes into his favourite grey striped nightshirt. A quick turn in the loo apiece, and they were ready for bed.
The dungeon bedroom was freezing, despite the hearth fire. As soon as they were through in the bathroom, they hurried to the bed. As they settled under the heavy green duvet, Harry took Severus in his arms.
It still amazed him how good simply holding Severus felt. As the taller man nestled down into his embrace in an almost guarded manner, he reached up to rub Severus' slender back.
Severus always seemed, if not uneasy, then perplexed by this kind of contact, especially on the rare nights when they didn't have sex. Harry could tell how uneasy Severus was by how long it took for him to trust his full weight to Harry as he settled down. Whenever they were simply embracing like this, Severus always held back, as though he were waiting to be told to shove off.
It hurt that after all this time Severus still wasn't confident in him. Harry really didn't know what more he could do to assure his lover. He wished he understood what he was dealing with here. Knowing what had formed all these insecurities would make them easier to manage. But the few times he'd broached the subject, Severus had been less than forthcoming. If he hadn't known better, he'd almost have said Severus was ashamed to tell him.
He wished that there was a way he could just crawl into Severus' mind and see what he was thinking . . . .
Harry froze at the thought. It wasn't just wishful thinking. He could crawl into Severus' mind, or as good as. If Severus would permit it, and if Harry himself had the courage to do it.
It wasn't something done lightly. Harry thought Severus' reluctance to trust was due to insecurity, but he could be wrong. For all that everything the man did belied the possibility, there was the chance Severus simply didn't love him, that this was all just a sexual odyssey for his reclusive lover.
Even if that weren't the case, Harry instinctively knew that Severus wouldn't welcome such intense contact. But it could really help them understand each other better.
Wondering how he could even broach the topic to Severus, Harry closed his eyes and let the wonderful warmth weighing him down relax him into slumber.
*~*~*
On Christmas night, drained from the holiday socializing, Severus was glad to retreat to his quarters and relax on his couch with Harry beside him.
"These are extremely beautiful . . . and unusual," Severus said, once again opening the velvet box to stare down at the cufflinks Harry had given him this morning. He'd thanked Harry, but somehow, the words didn't seem enough. He'd never had so thoughtful or princely a present.
The white gold cufflinks were made in the Slytherin coat of arms. Severus admired the diamond-eyed, shining serpent, in its bed of emeralds and rubies, with purple amethysts forming the bunting. He didn't need to be a Malfoy to know that the one-of-a-kind cufflinks were hand-crafted and must have cost Harry a fortune.
Harry shifted and laid an arm across his shoulders. "I'm glad you like them. I love my cloak."
Severus wished he'd been a bit more extravagant. The ultra-soft, dark green cashmere, sable-lined cloak with its shining silver buttons had seemed very elegant in the shop, but it paled when compared to the present Harry had given him. However, Severus didn't know what he could have found to equal these cufflinks. He'd never seen anything as exquisite as the workmanship on the jewellery.
Gift giving was nearly an alien practice to him in itself. Buying Christmas presents last week had been a strange and novel experience. Severus had been in school the last time social convention had demanded he worry about seasonal gift giving. Still, even though he couldn't say he'd enjoyed the shopping, he'd definitely enjoyed watching Harry's face fill with delight when he'd first seen the cloak.
"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Harry asked, leaning close and taking a sip of the vile eggnog he held in his left hand.
"Mmmm," Severus agreed. He had to admit, if only to himself, that the day had gone remarkably well. Christmas had never been his favourite holiday, but for the first time ever he hadn't felt separated from the festivities. It had helped that he'd spent every second of it at Harry Potter's side. The day had started with gift opening at the Weasleys' quarters, progressed to dinner and the Muggle Christmas celebration in the Great Hall, and then a return to the Weasleys' for more small talk, eggnog, and proper drinks. But now, sitting alone with Harry in the quiet of his own quarters, watching the fire dance in the hearth as night drew in around the castle while the celebrating, and, more importantly, the carolling, died down, this was Severus' favourite part so far.
"Hermione and Ron loved that wine you gave them," Harry said. "Did you really like the scarf they got you or were you just being kind?"
There was a reason he'd been sorted into Slytherin House. Knowing when diplomacy was called for, Severus deflected the question with, "When have you ever known me to be kind?"
Harry chuckled and snuggled closer to him. "You're kind to me all the time."
Severus was oddly comforted by Harry's words. It was good to know he was doing something right. He couldn't remember a single relationship or encounter where he hadn't been found lacking.
Of course, he'd never been so cautious about offering offence or worked so hard to please anyone as he had with Harry Potter. From their first kiss in the Forbidden Forest, he'd been all too conscious that Harry would be his for a limited time.
A shudder passed through him at the gentle, almost platonic kiss Harry placed on his cheek.
It amazed him that his body still shivered and thrilled whenever Harry kissed him even casually like this. They'd been together since the start of November, more than seven weeks. It seemed that he should have become accustomed to Harry by now, but Harry still made him tremble without even trying. In fact, the feelings seemed to be intensifying the longer they were together. It was all very strange.
Severus closed the tiny black velvet box in his hand and carefully placed it on the nearby end table before turning to meet Harry's lips. Somehow, the eggnog didn't taste as bad on Harry as it did when sipped from a mug. But he was forced to acknowledge that he was hardly an objective judge when it came to Harry Potter's mouth. He thought Harry tasted wonderful first thing in the morning. His tongue delved deeper, seeking out Harry's natural flavour as Harry's hands clutched at his back.
