A Motherly Intervention.

Title: Dancing For Joy.
Author: pekeleke
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Challenge: Prompt 10 (Picked from an online seasonal prompt list): Holiday Parties.
Word Count: 1026
Content: Chapter 10of 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 wonders if Severus is a good dancer. His exquisite posture alone hints at the possibility of true mastery, and Molly doesn't much care for the notion that Severus might love dancing but has little opportunity to indulge.

Dancing For Joy.

The atmosphere inside the Burrow during Family Friday more resembles a holiday party than a household dinner.

Arthur has charmed the old gramophone to play Celestina Warbeck’s Nothing Like A Holiday Spell album and, although Ron keeps making gagging noises when he thinks Molly can’t see him, his soft gaze tells her that he, like the rest of them, is pleased with the choice of music. Celestina’s Christmas album might be cheesy, but there are certain times of the year when cheesy is the right flavor. Fleur and Bill are dancing in the corner, giggling together like teenagers, and, judging by the looks of him, it won’t be long before Draco convinces Ginny to join them. That boy loves waltzing something fierce.

Molly glances toward the tottering pile of cardboard boxes, where Severus is busily helping Harry, George, Hermione, and Angelina unpack the glass-blown heirloom decorations, and wonders if he’s a good dancer. His exquisite posture alone hints at the possibility of true mastery, and Molly doesn’t much care for the notion that Severus might love dancing but has little opportunity to indulge. She can’t wait to see him twirl Harry around a dance floor. Her son isn’t as hopeless at the old waltz as he used to be. All those years of wild partying have taught him how to move without looking like a drunken goose, so Severus will have a partner he can show off. Poor Hermione isn’t as lucky. Ron hasn’t partied nearly enough and has two left feet to boot. One of these days, Molly will encourage Draco to target Ron’s dancing skills with his merciless teasing. Their rivalry is such that Ron might try to learn the waltz just to shut his brother-in-law up.

The evening wears on, soft and mellow, like a lovely dream. The family Christmas tree comes to life one heirloom, hand-blown, glittery, novelty, and child-made ornament at a time. Thick garlands of carefully-selected winter greens wrap around the banisters and, for the simple price of a dozen sugar cookies per night, young fairies with tinkle-like laughter agree to make temporary nests among the greenery, lending it their light and warmth, their magic.

Christmas comes to life, merry and bright and tender, one wide grin at a time inside the Burrow, and Molly couldn’t be happier with her lot. With every song they sing to, every cookie they much on, and every sip of mulled cider they consume, the family grows closer together, and the latest members feel a bit less wary.

By the time Ginny complains that her feet hurt too much and she can’t dance anymore, Severus is relaxed enough to roll his eyes in long-suffering amusement while still indulging Draco’s demand that he replaces his wife. They sway effortlessly in each other’s arms, turning with such grace and precision that Molly suspects Severus must have been Draco’s dance tutor. They’re grinning at one another, showing off shamelessly because they know, just like everyone else in the room does, that no Weasley can outshine them.

Harry looks on from the corner, his sweet smile pained with longing, and Molly’s heart swells with pride at his generosity in not pushing for more at this point. It’s too soon. He’ll get his chance to dance with Severus eventually. Right now, it’s more important to let Severus feel this. He is safe and wanted. He is at home. Molly watches Severus laugh with his godson while he dances with carefree abandon to an old, cheesy, Christmas song; and wonders how many chances Severus has had in the past to feel what he feels in this moment. Molly’s suspicion that they haven’t been many makes her heart ache with distress.

Severus’s life is changing. It’ll change even further under Harry’s careful watch, under hers. But, for tonight, this gentle introduction to the pleasure of good company is enough. It’s the perfect first Christmas-related experience to offset all the future ones they shall share.

Molly approaches Harry with a smile on her face. She runs her chubby hand up his arm, squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, and says, “Come, dear, let’s show those two smug Slytherin brats how true Gryffindors shake their bones.”

Harry laughs and takes her gamely in his arms, “They’ll make fun of us. We can’t beat them.”

“That’s right, Potty,” Draco smirks, twirling artfully beside them, “It’s good to know you recognize defeat when you see it. I wasn’t sure you could.”

Harry mock growls, showing his teeth as he swings Molly around in showy retaliation. Molly laughs merrily, whirling fast then faster in a dizzying spin. Arthur coaxes Hermione to join the fray, and they cut their clumsy way between Harry and Draco. Angelina squeals as George swings her forward too, and soon Molly’s living room resembles a dancing battleground. They laugh brightly, giddy with the simple joy of trying to outdo one another. Molly catches Severus’s quiet smirk, and the sight gives her hope. He can learn, then. He can have fun when given the chance. He is just rusty, out of practice when it comes to being happy.

Eventually, the children demand hot cocoa and cheese toasties, and Molly begs off dancing and heads toward the kitchen. Hours later, she catches Harry and Severus talking quietly in the corner of her rarely used drawing-room, notes of what appears to be that weird case of Harry’s that involves empty vials of what his department believes must have been cursed potions spread on the coffee table before them.

Molly grins approvingly. Harry is doing well. Showing respect for Severus’s craft, and involving him in something as tangible and emotionally safe as an ongoing curse breaker investigation, will pave the way towards a time when they’ll be able to meet outside the confines of the Burrow. A time when they’ll spend hours together, all on their own, without the encumbrance of unwanted witnesses. Times like those are special because ‘moments’ are born within them. Tender kisses become magical possibility. New understanding unfurls from its dormant cocoon and dares to spread, brimming with the type of hope that builds bridges between hearts.