A Motherly Intervention.

Title: Loneliness Is A State Of Mind.
Author: pekeleke
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Challenge: Prompt 14 (Picked from an online seasonal prompt list): Mistletoe.
Word Count: 1653
Content: Chapter 14 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: “You’re not alone anymore. Not that you ever were. You had Draco all along. Still, I try not to toot my own horn whenever possible, but you can’t possibly deny that the Malfoys don’t do Christmas like us, Weasleys, Severus.”

Loneliness Is A State Of Mind.

Molly adores magical Mistletoe. Once upon a time, it gave her the courage to kiss Arthur Weasley to within an inch of his life, just shy of the Hogwart’s library arch. She hasn’t stopped kissing Arthur ever since. Molly has come all the way to Hogsmeade to buy some from Neville’s florist shop. She is equally shocked and delighted to find Severus engaged in a spot of lively haggling with his former student over the contents of a couple of specialty sacks.

The unusually high number of freshening and preserving spells on the coarse cloth of the bags give away the delicate nature of the wares they contain. Molly wasn’t aware that Severus buys at least some of his ingredients from Neville, or that they are in good enough terms for the two of them to be so engrossed in an argument that hasn’t yet caused Neville to either flee in abject terror or give in to the potioneer’s demands.

They come to a mutually satisfying arrangement within seconds of Molly’s arrival, and she grins brightly at Severus when he turns around and catches sight of her, “Severus, dear, what a pleasure to see you. Are you heading up to the castle, or have you concluded your business in the village?”

Severus fusses with his precious bag of goods, rearranging the contents to his liking, before replying, “I plan to head to Rosmerta’s. She’s been feeding me hot chocolate every winter holiday for as long as I’ve known her. I make a point of visiting her every time I come up.”

“That’s so nice! Do you mind if I join you? I won’t be a moment, I promise. Neville owled me earlier this morning, you see? My order of magical Mistletoe has arrived and is ready to pick up. I just have to pay for it, and we can be on our way if you don’t mind an old woman inserting herself into your dealings with another one, that is.”

Severus laughs. The sound is so lovely and lighthearted that hearing it fills Molly with a quiet sense of accomplishment. It’s clear to her that Severus is starting to accept her as a member of his inner circle. The wariness he used to display around her in the past is no longer visible, “That’s alright. Rosmerta likes to gossip, and you’re probably better informed about the goings-on in wizarding society than I’ll ever be. She’ll be delighted to have a chance to spill her special brand of ‘tea’ with you, Molly.”

“Then it’s sorted, dear. Wait for me, please. I won’t be a moment.”

Molly walks carefully past the colorful containers brimming with blooms that frame the long and narrow corridor leading towards the counter of Neville’s quaint store. She smiles at him upon reaching the till, purse at the ready. He’d obviously seen her and had wrapped up her parcel already. Ringing up her purchase takes all but a second, and then Molly joins Severus at the door.

They step into the main street of Hogsmeade, Molly huddling into her thick winter coat while Severus prefers to strengthen his warming charm. He is thoughtful enough to include her in his charm’s bubble, and she smiles at him, thankful. Unlike Harry, Severus is a man of magic. His first solution to a problem appears to be spell-work, while Harry is a bit like her. He’d have sought warmth in the folds of his coat, trusting a woolly hat, scarf, and gloves before seeking the aid of a charm.

They amble in companionable silence down the road. Severus seems lost in his thoughts, and Molly doesn’t wish to disturb him. She is already imposing enough on his privacy as it is.

“It reminds me of my time at Hogwarts,” He says suddenly and then halts, seemingly unable to find the right words to continue.

“What does, dear?” Molly prods him gently, hoping to reassure him that she is interested in hearing what he has to say.

“This Christmas season. It’s— Albus forced us to play Secret Santa too.”

“Oh!” Molly laughs, “I hope you don’t find the idea too silly for your liking.”

“Of course not. I just— it’s lovely. To have something simple like that to look forward to.”

“I’m glad you’re playing this year, Severus.”

“I’m glad too. Even though I have no idea what to give my giftee. Jokes aren’t my forte, let alone jokes that are meant to be gifted.”

“Don’t worry too much about— appearances, dear. It’s all in good fun, you know? Just go with your gut. If you see something ridiculous that makes you think of your giftee and smirk as you imagine the expression on their face when they open it, that’s probably the right gift.”

“Fair enough,” Severus hums and stares at his feet, lost in thought. Molly wonders what, precisely, he is so busy mulling over. It’s too soon for her to hazard a guess. She knows very little about him.

“I— I’ve been lonely. Since the war. I hadn’t realized how much,” Severus says, eventually, and Molly’s heart goes out to him. He’s stopped walking altogether and is now standing in the middle of the street, looking vulnerable and lost. Molly wants to wrap him up in cotton balls, carry him gently back home, and feed him fruit scones and sweet tea. He’s terribly thin, her Severus. He’s also in desperate need of mothering. And understanding. And affection. He needs her and the rest of the family something fierce. And he has them, but he doesn’t know that yet.

Most of all, Severus needs a companion. He needs Harry, and he has him already too. But Severus doesn’t know that either. Maybe this is the right time for her to hint at the truth.

“You’re not alone anymore. Not that you ever were. You had Draco all along. Still, I try not to toot my own horn whenever possible, but you can’t possibly deny that the Malfoys don’t do Christmas like us, Weasleys, Severus.”

Severus laughs, just as she’d hoped, and then looks at her with those usually piercing dark eyes of his, now softened by gratitude, “Thank you, Molly. For opening your home to me.”

“Severus-

“I know,” He interrupts, looking pained at the disrespect but too determined to say his piece to regret it, “I know you’re a generous woman who enjoys picking waifs up from the streets just to give them a piece of your heart. But I’m not— Harry is your son’s best friend, and he was a child when you ‘adopted’ him. Draco is your daughter’s husband and the father of your grandson. I, on the other hand, am nobody.”

“You’re Draco’s and Scorpius’ godfather. That makes you family too. I mean it, Severus.”

He shrugs, “I know you do. I just— it’s such a generous gesture. And it means the world to me. I wanted to say I appreciate it. And that I won’t, ever, take your kindness for granted.”

“Alright then, dear. You’ve said your piece, and I’ve heard it. Now let’s never mention such things again. I want you to be comfortable at home, Severus. You must understand that your place at Family Friday is guaranteed. Not because you’re my latest charity project, but because you belong there. With us.“

“I—

“Hush. This isn’t merely my doing. The Burrow’s magic has made it official. Your name appeared on the household clock two days ago, Severus. I’ve just finished knitting your Christmas stocking and planned to swing by The Simmering Cauldron to invite you home for dinner this evening. I’d like you to be there when I hang it up. It’d be like a welcome to the family ceremony of sorts.”

Severus’s gaze is tear-bright. He looks positively overwhelmed, but the smile he flashes her way is sincerely delighted, “I’d love to be there. I’ve never had a Christmas stocking of my own. Most Hogwarts professors have families outside the school and engage in such traditions privately.”

Molly gathers all her courage and pats him gently on the forearm. When he fails to flinch at her touch, it’s all Molly can do to stop herself from pulling him towards her bosom and squeezing him to death. Little steps. She has to love her wariest son in small increments, lest he runs away from her, screaming.

Molly pats Severus’s arm ever so gently one more time before forcing herself to let go of him with a confident smile, “Then it’s settled. I expect you to show up at home for supper tonight. Around seven will be perfect. It’ll be just Arthur and me. Oh, and Harry! He’s helping us clean up Charlie’s room. We’re rushing to get it ready because they’ll arrive tomorrow evening.”

Severus doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the notion of sharing an extra dinner with Harry. Still, he makes the attempt to give her the option of entertaining them separately, “We could leave our business for another day if you’re too busy tonight.”

“Nonsense. I want to hang up your stocking as soon as possible. It gladdens my heart to see my mantel so full. And I know for a fact that Harry enjoys talking to you. There’s only so much a young wizard feels comfortable sharing with his wizened old parents. It’d do you both a world of good to have each other’s company.”

Severus laughs easily, “Fine. But you aren’t as old as you boast, and neither is your husband.”

Molly giggles, a lighthearted sound of contentment that twinkles like a bell in the air around them, “Hush, you charmer. Or I might decide to adopt you for real and declare you my favorite son.”

“Don’t tempt me with that type of sweet-talk, or I might just let you. I’ve never been a witch’s favorite son either, and I’ve got a greedy soul.”