It’s two days before Christmas, and three silhouettes can be seen in a window at a beautifully decorated household. James and Harry are giggling as they decorate the Christmas tree, lost in their own little world, while Severus sips his hot chocolate, quietly observing his husband and son, both looking carefree.
“You’re staring,” James teased, pulling Severus out of his thoughts. Severus looked up to see his husband grinning like a madman, their son perched on his shoulders, both of them catching their breath.
“Papa, are you okay?” asked six-year-old Harry, reaching out with his arms, giving Severus a clear hint that he wanted to be carried.
“I’m okay, Harry,” Severus replied, though it was a lie. He didn’t want to concern his child. He gently lifted Harry from James’s shoulders, nuzzling his son’s nose and earning a happy giggle in return.
Minutes later, Harry fell asleep on Severus’s lap, exhausted from the evening’s excitement. James carefully carried their son to his bedroom, with Severus trailing behind. They took turns kissing Harry’s forehead and left the door slightly ajar—Harry was still afraid of the dark.
“Is something bothering you?” James asked, breaking the comfortable silence once their son was tucked in. Before Severus could respond, James cut him off gently, “I know you’re not fine, Sev. What’s wrong, love?” He held Severus’s hand and kissed it lightly.
Even before they were married, James had always made Severus feel safe, soothing his worries and anxieties. Severus often struggled to voice what was troubling him, fearing he would be a burden. But James knew him too well—he could always tell when something was off.
“I-I just…” Severus stammered. “He’s growing, James.” His voice broke as tears welled in his eyes. “And I can’t help but think about how little time we truly have before he doesn’t need us like this anymore.”
James pulled Severus into a gentle embrace, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Oh, Sev," he whispered, his voice soft yet steady. "He'll always need us, just in different ways. That’s the beauty of watching him grow—he’s becoming his own person, but he’ll always carry us with him."
Severus buried his face in James' shoulder, drawing strength from his warmth. "I just want to protect him from everything, James. From the world, from pain... from everything that could hurt him."
James cupped Severus’ face, his hazel eyes shining with love and understanding. "I know, love. And we will protect him as best we can, together. But he’s also strong—just like you. He’s got your resilience and my recklessness. That little firefly will light up any darkness, I promise you."
Severus let out a shaky laugh at James’ attempt to lighten the mood. "Recklessness isn’t exactly comforting, you know."
"Well, it keeps life interesting," James teased, pressing a soft kiss to Severus’ forehead. "We’ll teach him what he needs to face the world, Sev. We’ve got this."
Severus nodded slowly, allowing himself to believe James’ words. They stood there for a while in the quiet, holding each other, the faint glow of the Christmas lights casting a soft halo around them.
As they stood together in the quiet glow of the Christmas lights, Severus allowed himself a rare moment of peace. James’s hand intertwined with his, grounding him, while the knowledge that their son was safely asleep in his room reminded him of the love and joy they had built together.
“Thank you, James,” Severus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For what?” James asked, tilting his head with a gentle smile.
“For reminding me that even in the chaos of the world, we have this—our little family,” Severus said, gesturing to the warmth of their home. “And that’s enough.”
James pressed a kiss to Severus’s temple. “It always will be.”
With that, they returned to the living room, the soft hum of holiday music filling the air. Together, they sat on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and watching the twinkling lights of the tree, savoring the quiet magic of Christmas and the promise of many more to come.