A Motherly Intervention.

Title: Preparing To Wait.
Author: pekeleke
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Challenge: Prompt 8 (Picked from an online seasonal prompt list): Snowball Fights.
Word Count: 921
Content: Chapter 8 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: "Treasure the moment for what it was, Harry. Don't ruin it with unnecessary yearning. This is a time for building memories. A time for hope. A time when everything is possible between the two of you."

Preparing To Wait.

Molly points her wand at the huge cauldron perched atop her stove, and the long wooden spatula stuck inside it starts stirring the thickening hot chocolate she's making for the children. The second batch of gingerbread men will be out of the oven in the next two minutes, so she'll be able to entice them back inside the house, where it is warmer and drier.

Victoire's bell-like giggling makes her check out the garden through the kitchen window. Molly is on childcare duty this evening. Some of her daughters-in-law have decided to go Christmas shopping together in Diagon Alley, and Molly couldn't be happier. She adores being a grandmother, and spending more time with her grandchildren is a blessing. Her backyard has become the setting of a hopelessly disorganized snowball fight. Her kitchen smells like Christmas, and the creaky walls of the old Burrow feel content, at peace. Everything is perfect in Molly's small world this evening.

Her oven timer alarm pings, and Molly pulls the cookies out of it. She sets them on a cooling rack and eyes her mixing bowl. She could whip up another batch quickly enough. She's leaning toward her measuring cup when the floo activates in the other room.

Molly frowns, it's too early for the girls to be back already, and Ron has sent her an owl explaining that his current stakeout might last well into the night. It could be George, she supposes. She hasn't seen him since last Friday, and with Angelina out for the evening, he must know that the children are all here. If he's come to try one of his horrid new products on them, she will hex his remaining ear off.

Molly is surprised to see Harry walk into her kitchen a second later. He rarely ever visits on weeknights, and to have him around twice in the same week worries her as much as it delights her.

"Harry! I wasn't expecting you, dear."

"I hope I'm not bothering you, Molly," He says sheepishly, "It's hard to be home these days. I'm so used to getting back from work and immediately start preparing to go clubbing that I automatically turn towards my bedroom. I'm trying to quit the partying, but it's hard. Yesterday, I stress-cleaned the library, and Kreacher threw me out of the kitchen just now. Apparently, excessive hand-washing of cut-glass dinnerware dulls its shine."

"Well, you are welcome to go out there and get pelted with snowballs. Young Hugo could do with some help to get back at Rose and Victoire ganging upon him. Teddy has been too busy laughing to be of much assistance."

Harry peers outside the window, and the tension in his shoulders instantly eases. A soft smile blooms across his lips as he watches the children chase one another across the snow, colorful scarves trailing behind them like bright streamers, "Gosh! I want one of my own so badly."

"You've got plenty of time, sweetheart. With Scorpius still so little, it'll be a couple of years before he outgrows whichever grandchild comes next. It's strange. Having a Malfoy in the family. But then that's the true power of time, isn't it? So much dislike between Arthur and Lucius, so many slurs thrown across the lines between light and dark wizards, yet here we are. My daughter married to a marked man. My youngest grandson, a bridge between both sides."

"Does it bother you?" Harry asks, tone curious.

"Draco's dark mark? No. He never wanted it, did he? The only thing that mark says is that he loves his family, and for that, I can not fault him. I worry about Scorpius, though. The world out there is still so mean, Harry. I fear he'll eventually become a target for those who can neither forgive nor forget."

"Malfoy will rip off the balls of anyone who even looks at him funny. And Snape— Merlin! I shudder to think how Snape will retaliate if someone dares to harm Scorpius."

Molly smiles softly, "Severus looks glorious with a child in his arms. Doesn't he?"

Harry inhales sharply. His gaze brightens with the sheen of unshed tears, and his voice is rough and full of desperate longing when he agrees, "He does. That was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

Molly pats him gently on the arm, "Treasure the moment for what it was, Harry. Don't ruin it with unnecessary yearning. This is a time for building memories. A time for hope. A time when everything is possible between the two of you."

"That's— yeah. You're right. I'm the most impatient arsehole I know. How do you put up with me, Molly?"

"Don't," She pleads, and her smile turns soft as she cradles his dear face tenderly, "You're a very kind man, Harry. You're loving, loyal, and fiercely protective. I've got a hunch Severus needs all that. He's been fighting for so long, our weary warrior. I'm as impatient as you to bring him home."

"How do we do that, Molly? How do we go from reminiscing with him about Draco's childhood to him lounging on my couch, reading boring potion books?"

"We'll do it with patience, sweetheart. We'll do it with perseverance. I will keep inviting him to Family Fridays because he's my grandson's godfather, and that makes him one of us. You just— love him, dear. Love him honestly. Love him exclusively. Love him kindly. That's all you can do. He'll fall for you on his own if it's meant to be."