A Motherly Intervention.

Title: Mistletoe Mischief.
Author: pekeleke
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Harry Potter.
Challenge: Prompt 17 (Picked from an online seasonal prompt list): Scarves
Word Count: 1664
Content: Chapter 17 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 is smiling drowsily at her family when she catches sight of a small flash of green rushing at ceiling level toward Severus. Her heart jumps in her chest. She's not sure this is the right time for that sort of shenanigans.

Mistletoe Mischief.

Molly is milling around her living room, happily passing around mugs of mulled cider and catching up with everyone. Today's Family Friday is special. Charley, his husband, and their little boy, Ivan, are scheduled to arrive at any moment. That means every member of the household will be present for dinner tonight. Molly is beside herself with joy. There is nothing she loves more than having a full house, especially at this time of the year.

Ginny, Fleur, and Angelina are holed up in the kitchen, feeding the little ones, while Arthur, Ron, And Severus have joined forces and are doing the rounds, enlarging the sofas, and footstools so there will be at least one seat for everyone. Percy and Penelope are in charge of setting up the snack table. Harry, George, and Hermione have tackled the children's entertainment. And Bill is doing his best to encourage the ghoul in the attic to head over to Arthur's shed for the rest of the season. The house will get far too loud for the poor thing. It's time for its annual relocation.

The floo finally activates, and Charley steps out of it, tall and tanned and already smiling. Peter, his husband, follows right behind with Ivan asleep in his arms. Charley's husband is short and slender and altogether too fragile-looking to be chasing dragons, but he's apparently amazingly gifted at it. Molly rushes toward them and crushes them to her bosom, careful not to wake her slumbering grandson. She collects the adults' outer robes, hats, and scarves before allowing them to move forward into the room, where they get swarmed by the rest of the family within four steps, as usual.

Three hours later, Molly sits contentedly on a stool. She is watching Rose, Victoire, and little Lucy draw snowflakes on enchanted paper when she catches sight of Harry staring dreamily at Severus over the girls' industrious little heads.

Severus is swaying from side to side in the corner, deep voice crooning a nursery rhyme as he rocks baby Scorpius to sleep. He is loose-limbed. Visibly relaxed. Clearly at home in his little corner. At home in the Burrow too. Finally.

Severus smiled throughout dinner and easily managed to find something to talk about with virtually everyone in the family. He's a courteous young man with exquisite manners when he's willing to socialize. Severus kept casting little pleased looks at his stocking and, at one point, Molly had even heard him thank Draco for thinking of him as 'hearth.' Molly wonders if Severus has thanked Harry for the part he played in his stocking's color scheme choice, but she supposes the word 'courage' doesn't have the same type of emotional connotation.

Molly is smiling drowsily at her family when she catches sight of a small flash of green rushing at ceiling level toward Severus. Her heart jumps in her chest. She's not sure this is the right time for that sort of shenanigans. She's fumbling with her wand, intent on casting a mild Confundus at the mistletoe when it reaches its desired destination, sealing Severus's fate until the magic of the plant is satisfied.

Severus hasn't noticed anything amiss yet. Molly waves frantically at Harry, pointing out the bothersome little sprig currently dangling above the oblivious Potioneer. Harry looks up and stills. He looks positively sick with nerves when he catches sight of the mistletoe and turns toward her, looking wide-eyed and young and more afraid than anyone should feel when contemplating the act of offering a simple kiss to satisfy a playful bunch of mistletoe.

Over by the drinks table, Draco laughs loudly. Severus looks over his shoulder, tries to move in his godson's direction, and finds himself unable to do so. He freezes, slender arms curling protectively around the babe he holds as he looks up oh-so-slowly. Severus catches sight of the mistletoe hovering directly above him and becomes as pale as a ghost.

Molly frowns. She doesn't much care for the strength of Severus's reaction to a small sprig of seasonal matchmaking. She can't help but wonder who was heartless enough to use such silly tradition to hurt Severus in the past and doesn't like the suspicion that she might have known them personally. Sirius could be such a bastard sometimes. He liked to rub Severus's supposed lack of charms in his face every chance he got.

Harry has also noticed Severus's extreme reaction and seems to be thinking along the same lines as Molly. She looks questioningly at him, ready to stand up and intervene if he's too afraid to rescue Severus on his own, but it appears that his beloved's plight has managed to vanquish Harry's nerves altogether.

Molly watches as Harry approaches Severus ever so casually. She can tell he's attempting to spare Severus's pride by acting as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Harry reaches Severus's corner, flashes his crush that smile of his that's all shy dimples and charm-overdose, and points up toward the ceiling. Severus stiffens visibly but makes no move to lean backward when Harry points between the two of them, clearly offering to free Severus from the effect of the mistletoe. Severus blushes bright red. His lips flatten unhappily, and he cradles a sleeping Scorpius even closer. Molly is too far away to hear what he says to Harry, so she pulls out her wand and casts the base charm for George's thrice-cursed expandable ears. She'd found his notes about it scattered all over his former bedroom, ages ago. He's never been a neat soul, her head-in-the-clouds inventor.

"I can call Draco over if that'll make you more comfortable, Severus. He'll be happy to assist," Molly hears Harry's offer and instantly realizes that Severus's earlier comment must have been something probably suspicious and less than enthusiastic about Harry's offer to help.

Severus looks toward Draco, who still stands in the large group by the drinks table. Molly can see Severus's problem with calling him over straight away. Approaching Draco to help will draw most of the family's attention to Severus's plight. If, as Molly strongly suspects, Severus has been heartlessly humiliated using mistletoe before, the prospect of becoming the focus of so many eyes while under the plant's influence must fill him with trepidation.

"You won't leave me here, stranded?" Severus asks, staring at Harry piercingly.

Molly hears Harry's affronted intake of breath. Thankfully, he doesn't react to the slight implicit in Severus's suspicious question, "Of course not. I already offered to help you."

"There will be no funny business, Potter."

"Please, don't call me Potter. Especially not when you're half-convinced I'm gonna play some nasty trick on you, Severus. I'm not my father. I hate the way he treated you, and I don't want you to confuse me with him when you're stressed."

"Fine! You may kiss me now then, Harry. Keep it polite and platonic. Merely convincing enough to get that blasted weed away from me."

Harry nods solemnly in agreement. Then swallows loudly and, lifting up on his tiptoes, leans carefully forward. Severus's neck is so stiff that Molly fears it'll break in the next second. His grip on his blanket-wrapped godson is exquisitely cautious, but he's tense from crown to foot as he responds to Harry's actions by lowering his head toward him.

Their lips meet in the briefest of kisses, but the barely-there, tight-lipped peck, serves its purpose. Severus is free in the next second, and he takes three hurried steps away before turning back around abruptly. Harry looks straight at him, wide green eyes dazed and worried and so very, very, afraid.

"I— Thank you, Harry. That was decent of you," Severus says stiffly.

"It was no trouble," Harry shakes his head in dismissal of his good deed, and Severus steps closer.

"Why did you help me?" Severus asks, his tone slightly bewildered, "I wouldn't have helped you if our roles had been reversed."

Harry rubs the back of his neck nervously and smiles shyly at Severus, "Yes, you'd have. You'd have waited to see if someone else stepped up to the challenge first, though."

Severus shakes his head, half-joking, half-incredulous, "You have an astonishing amount of misguided faith in me."

Harry laughs, "Nah. I have just the right amount of faith in you. It's you who don't have enough faith in me. Or in yourself, for that matter."

Severus's dark head tilts thoughtfully to the left, "That might be more true than I'm comfortable with. I'm beginning to think I might have judged you too harshly."

Harry's face brightens, "You might have," He says quietly, "But that's water under the bridge now. We managed to start afresh. We're good now, aren't we?"

"Are we? Truly? I was such an arse to you. I banned you from my shop for years. I'd understand if you-

"Hey. None of that, Severus, please. Let's let bygones be bygones," Harry pleads earnestly.

Severus swallows uneasily but doesn't respond verbally. He's clearly troubled by his past behavior toward Harry, and Molly's son's eagerness to forgive him doesn't sit well with him. Harry seems to have noticed Severus's discomfort, for he lifts one hand, slow and oh-so-carefully; Harry's digits hover over Severus's forearm before descending upon it, rubbing it up and down in a soothing motion. Severus stills and looks down at Harry's hand with a thoughtful expression.

"You mean it, then," He says wonderingly.

"I mean it," Harry replies, and Molly sighs with contentment when Severus decides to stay precisely where he is. He doesn't step away from Harry, doesn't shake off his touch, or vocally demands that Harry removes his hand from his person. Molly cancels the extendable ears spell with a beatific smile on her face. Her heart sings with hope as she watches her Severus do nothing at all other than stand there, a mere three steps shy of the corner by the window, daring to accept both Harry's offer of comfort and his slowly-brightening smile.