A Motherly Intervention.

Title: The Right Beginning.
Author: pekeleke
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Challenge: Prompt 7 (Picked from an online seasonal prompt list): Ice Skating.
Word Count: 955
Content:Chapter 7 of my Christmas Series: A Motherly Intervention.
Warnings: Getting Together. Enemies to friends to lovers. Mild Angst. Romance.
Disclaimer: The characters, setting, and the HP franchise are owned by JKR and not me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
A/N: Unbeated. Posting one chapter a day from December 1st to the 25th.
Summary: Molly's chest aches for both her boys. Her brave Harry, so willing to love, and her wounded Severus, so familiar with heartbreak that he no longer takes any chances. 

The Right Beginning.

Molly will never understand the younger generations. The first week of December is coming to an end, and the weather is cold enough to rattle her bones, but Ginny has decided that the best way to celebrate Scorpius's christening is to set up an ice skating rink in the manor's grounds. Narcissa must have been out of town when this madness was decided, for she's staring in horrified fascination at the elaborate contraption currently sitting in the middle of her precious rose garden.

At least the children are happy. Molly spied Rose and Hugo trailing behind Teddy like faithful little ducklings a while back, laughing a mile a minute. She can see Victoire and Lucy hanging out by the chocolate fountain, chatting the ear off the poor elf in charge of it. Molly feels very sorry indeed for the creature. Weasley girls high on sugar are a frightening prospect. And Ginny has managed to ensure there's enough sugar for an army doing the rounds.

Out of the corner of her eye, Molly finally catches sight of Harry. She hasn't seen him since his breakdown in her kitchen, but she hasn't seen a single Prophet article about him either. There is complete radio silence on 'The Saviors' Saucy Sightings,' which happens to be Witch Weekly's most popular column. Molly can't tell yet if he's really following her advice or has found another way to muzzle the press. Things will go pear-shaped faster than a witch can say Accio if Harry has found a way to fake it, but there is little indeed Molly can do about his lifestyle other than give him the right advice and pray to Merlin that he takes it.

Molly is both relieved and reassured to notice that Harry's green gaze is riveted on the left fireside chair of the manor's opulent drawing-room. Severus has been sitting there for about two hours now. He is oblivious to the increasingly noisy party that surrounds him, all his attention focused on his youngest godchild, Scorpius, who sleeps peacefully in his arms. There is a look of naked longing on Severus's pale face. An expression that tells Molly, clear as day, that Severus is a father at heart. A father who has never been blessed with children of his own.

Molly's chest aches for both her boys. Her brave Harry, so willing to love, and her wounded Severus, so familiar with heartbreak that he no longer takes any chances. The party has reached its peak. Soon enough, the first guest will leave, and then the rest will follow. Molly fears that Harry will dither too long and lose the chance to approach Severus while he is here, at Malfoy manor, a place where he feels clearly at peace. She sighs inwardly and ambles toward her son. They need a buffer more than anything else, these two. She doesn't mind becoming the reason why they'll speak civilly to one another, at least for now. Severus has exquisite manners, and Harry— well. Harry will go on full-scale charm offensive as soon as he gets the chance.

"Harry, sweetheart," she greets him cheerfully, wrapping her hand firmly around his bicep, in case he decides to make a run for it, "Let's go say hello to Severus."

Harry stiffens. A startled little gasp leaves his lips in a rush, and he refuses to move forward when she pulls on his arm, "Molly, I can't. It'll be a disaster."

"You've got to speak to him sometime, dear. He won't change his mind on his own."

"It's too soon. I've barely stopped the partyi-

"Hush. It'll be alright. Trust me."

Harry swallows nervously. Green gaze wide and filled with unease, "Whatever you do, don't let me mess this up, Molly. Please."

"You'll be fine. Don't storm out, though. Severus doesn't deserve that kind of dismissal."

They walk carefully across the room, stopping here and there to speak with a relative or steer the children away from a plate full of cupcakes. Molly's manner is relaxed, and her easy mood seems to settle Harry's jitters. By the time they make it to Severus's corner, Harry's shoulders are less tense.

"Ah, Severus," Molly greets him, "I've been meaning to congratulate you on your beautiful godchild."

Severus flashes her a pleased smile. Fatherly pride is a good look on him, "I suppose I must congratulate you too. You have a very handsome grandson, Mrs. Weasley, and he is remarkably well behaved."

Molly laughs. She lets go of Harry's arm and moves closer to Severus, peering down to see the baby's face, "Scorpius's good behavior is temporary, I assure you. He's got a good set of lungs on him."

"Doesn't like to wait for his food?" Severus guesses, a hint of amusement in his tone, "Draco was exactly the same."

"Is that so?" Harry intervenes, "He was just boasting to Ginny that he used to sleep through the night. Serene, like a unicorn foal."

Severus's hesitation before he snorts is barely noticeable, and Molly breathes an inward sigh of relief. Harry relaxes even further, and she drops down on the other fireside chair, "You must have so many stories about Draco's childhood. I'd love to hear a few of them."

"Are you sure? He is your daughter's husband now. You might lose all respect for him once you realize he was the most foolish boy in all of Wiltshire."

Molly laughs, "They're well-matched then. She was the most foolish girl in all of Ottery St Catchpole."

Severus smiles at that. He looks down at Scorpius, traces his cherubic little face with a potion-stained fingertip, and allows his gaze to turn inwards. His voice, when he finally speaks, is quiet and fond. He is grinning, delighting in the memories he describes, lost in the retelling of a lifetime of moments he shared with the man he helped raise. Molly sits patiently and listens to him, watching Harry sink slowly onto the footstool by Severus's chair, his green gaze alight with wonder.

'This is good enough for now,' Molly thinks, pleased, 'This is the type of beginning both my boys deserve.'