He barely made it up all the way to Serpens' Tower undetected. It had been a long day, from a festive breakfast to tea time to another festive supper, and by now he was done with it. Not that he didn't like Christmas, no, quite the opposite: he loved Christmas. All the twinkling decorations and the trees, and the enchanted ceiling glittering with thousand stars and the falling snow that never quite reached the height where your head would begin, and the smiles and cheers and chocolate and eggnog - no, he liked Christmas a lot, and as always he'd put a lot of effort into making it memorable and fun for everybody involved, which was mostly those of his staff that hadn't been given off to run and hide at home and those students who for whichever reason had to stay in the castle instead of going back to their parents.
They had managed to make it a very special day for everyone, but now he was tired and possibly for the first time in his life done with Christmas cheer. It was long past dinner and technically the day was over, so he could grant himself the luxury of vanishing. Nobody would need him now, hopefully. Hogwarts could survive for a few hours without her Headmaster, just once.
He hadn't chosen to hide in his own quarters because, frankly, those were brightly decorated and beautifully laid out with a Christmas cheer he right now couldn't stand. It was the same reason he hadn't looked for shelter with Minerva, who was usually the one he'd turn to in this particular mood. But he couldn't go there, not only because he knew she kept her own small Christmas tree decked out in tartan colours, but also because he might have kept a few secrets from her he wasn't ready to share just yet. But these were what was clawing at him right now, and the respite he needed included respite from his public persona. He needed peace, quiet, and space to breathe without having to be the one who solved all the problems, and there was only one place in the entirety of Hogwarts where he could be sure he wouldn't see a Christmas tree, decorations or anything even remotely cheerful.
Sighing he knocked, hoping that nobody would round the corner and drag him back to another task he'd have to fulfil with eternal optimism and a smile. There weren't many students in the castle, the wizarding world wasn't on fire - or at least not terribly so - and without much hope he thought he'd get away with hiding for just an hour. Or two.
To his endless relief the door opened immediately, so quickly that Albus couldn't banish the exhaustion from his face in time.
"Good evening, Severus. Are you just going out?"
He followed the greeting with a soft smile, enough to make sure he wouldn't get questioned about his appearance just yet and still knowing that Severus was probably the most observant person he had ever met and thus had already picked up on what was going on and made a decision on how to proceed best from here so that everybody involved would survive.
"No, I just returned."
That explained why he was standing just behind his own door, shoes already off but his cloak still on his shoulders.
"I see. Can I come in?"
Shrugging Severus stepped back, and Albus marched into his quarters. The door shut behind him silently, and while Severus quickly slipped out of his cloak, hung it neatly on the appropriate peg and then made way so the Headmaster could do the same without them having to bump into each other in his small hallway Albus as discreetly as possible relaxed. He slipped out of his shoes and heavy cloak, placing both right where they were supposed to go - Severus was a relentlessly neat man, and Albus knew he'd be chided if he placed as much as a single shoe askew - and followed him into his living room.
His rooms were dark, only lightening up now, the fireplace suddenly coming to life. But quickly the fire warmed the slightly chilly air and they were settled comfortably, Severus on his sofa, Albus in the large armchair he loved to sit in. As Albus had predicted there was no sign of Christmas in Severus' rooms. Immaculately clean and neat the only give-away of festivities were the new looking stack of books on the low shelf, a fresh bottle of whiskey and a card placed on the coffee table.
"Can I offer you something?"
Albus nodded in the general direction of the whiskey bottle, and while Severus stood up to collect glasses and the bottle leant forward to sneak a look at the card on the table. It showed a small family in cheerful santa hats posing on a staircase, the young father towering over his wife and child, the small boy waving into the camera. Below it a banner read "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Mag, Ezra and Andreas!", with signatures under each of the names, the name of the boy in big, still unsure letters.
Albus couldn't help but smile, not mad about the little intrusion Christmas had managed to stage even though he had tried so carefully to avoid it. Sitting back he picked the heavy crystal tumbler floating towards him out of the air, feeling the levitating spell dissolve as his fingertips met the cold glass.
"So Libavius sends Christmas cards that are just as horrible as everybody else's?"
Shrugging Severus settled down on his sofa again and crossed his legs.
"He's not known for good taste."
Hearing the affection in the remark Albus smiled, and raised his glass before tasting the whiskey.
"Ah, Minerva just knows how to pick a good whiskey. Did you just come back from the common room?"
Severus nodded. It was part of his duty as Head of House to stay on call during the Christmas holidays, and he took this specific task serious. Years ago he had come up with the idea of staging an unofficial Christmas meeting in the common room, offering Slytherins that had been forced to stay in the castle the chance to spent the evening with all the students from their own house. By now the little Slytherin gathering had become a beloved tradition, copied by Minerva and Filius, while Pomona Sprout didn't need anyone telling her how to cuddle her students and spent most of Christmas Day in her common room anyway.
And with what Albus already called the Second Voldemort Wars advancing Severus' little Christmas gathering had become even more of a necessity, with students now staying in the castle not because they had chosen to or because their families didn't have time, but because their parents had died under unfortunate circumstances that Severus mostly knew a lot more about than he'd ever let on. This year alone they had taken four new students into Hogwarts with no living family at all, and to everybody's surprise two of them had ended up in Slytherin. At first Albus had been worried, but Severus had long since figured out how he could work with his house to the benefit of everybody and these two new students had fitted into the group surprisingly well. Nevertheless both - a girl and boy - had brought headaches to the entire faculty, both being slightly too young to attend Hogwarts, traumatised from what had happened to their families and having a hard time adjusting at first.
"Yes, for quite a few hours. The usual, but the students were pleased."
Albus couldn't help but smile, knowing fully well how adored Severus was among his students, even though it was a well-hidden truth, and that one of the major draws for this christmas thing was the fact that he sat in the common room for a few hours, drank tea with his students and kept the conversation flowing. It hadn't gone past Albus that he even had abandoned his usual strict uniform, instead wearing a soft black turtleneck with his black trousers. That alone probably did a lot to help set the mood, giving the students a rare glance at their Head of House in a more private light, something he'd never allow while they were on term.
"It's only eight of them this year, if I remember. How do they get along?"
Trying the whiskey Severus looked at his glass with approval before answering.
"Surprisingly well. Miss Adams got herself adopted by Miss Lovell, my prefect, and even Mr Wang settled in quite well by know. Thank Merlin, I'm not ready to go looking for him all over the castle again anytime soon, these sleepwalking fits were quite stressful for everybody involved."
Albus remembered the incident well, and nodded.
"So what fun little magical project did everybody bring this year?"
It had become tradition that every participant of Severus' little Slytherin christmas had to bring something to the table, be it a special spell they had practised for the occasion, a fancy potion they had put effort in making or just a small story that they could tell, turning the afternoon into a very low key talent show that had the students work on small creative projects all through December and made more than one faculty member wonder about their sudden eagerness. Severus staged it as a small competition, with the winner securing the main prize for their entire house - no house points, but pudding for everybody present, usually in form of a large sweet nightmare the houseelves provided in cheerful green and silver decoration, something so terribly unlike Severus that Albus had needed to sit down when he had heard about it for the first time. It worked like magic, of course, and besides setting some sort of a program for the evening helped make the students aware of their specific talents, boosted their confidence by making sure everybody would be applauded and opened up countless little opportunities for Severus to teach them neat little spells here and there.
"They did well this year, some impressive demonstrations. To just name a few Miss Adams and Mr Wang showed skills with levitating spells decorating the christmas tree, Mr Huff had brought a plant that glows in the dark he had been caring for all year with help from Pomona and Miss Lovell came up with a potion that can be reduced to powder and, thrown into the fireplace, produces light effects for ambiance."
Albus couldn't help but smile.
"A light effect powder! She must have worked on this quite a while."
Severus nodded, not even trying to conceal that he was proud of his little snakes and their creativity.
"Yes, and although she kept asking me random potions questions everytime we spoke I didn't pin down what she was trying to come up with. It worked well, and the group decided to award her the prize."
The warm feeling in Albus' stomach could have come from the whiskey, but he was pretty sure that wasn't the main reason.
"They really enjoy making you proud, you know."
There was nothing like affectionate praise to embarrass Severus, and now was no difference.
"Well, they did get sweets in return."
Shaking his head Albus smiled. "And what did you bring?"
Because rules were rules and even the Head of House a Slytherin, so he had to bring something as well. Usually he demonstrated small, but quite unique spells he had come up with himself, using his inherent magical creativity that Albus very much enjoyed and, in his opinion at least, never saw quite enough of. At the same time it gave him a chance to show his students a bit of an advanced magic they rarely saw at Hogwarts, where clean wand technique was on the forefront of teaching and the difficult and very rare wandless and silent style Severus had made his second nature wasn't on the syllabus. Hardly any Slytherin was aware of the type of power their Head of House commanded so easily, and Severus was keen on keeping it that way. But their small christmas gatherings were a good opportunity to introduce them to different magical styles, keeping them curious and encouraging them to work hard to develop their own abilities further.
"This year they had grouped together and requested duelling lessons. Apparently Miss Lovell runs a tight regime in my house - they had committee meetings to organise the christmas evening since November!"
He seemed genuinely surprised, and Albus couldn't help but laugh. Miss Lovell was indeed a perfectionist and a firm believer in good organisation and planning, making her ideal for the position of a prefect, but sometimes a little too eager.
"And did you go through with it?"
He could hardly imagine it, especially since Severus was the main objector to the constant wish of the Board led by Lucius Malfoy to introduce duelling lessons. He hadn't changed his stance at all since the Lockhart incident, even though his quick and easy victory had brought him eternal fame in the castle and added a certain notoriety to his already slightly feared character. It was still beyond Albus how Lockhart had managed to pick Severus from all of the staff members, given his reputation and the not too unknown fact that he had had quite a career as a duellist in his students days, eventually competing as captain of his college's duel team on the international circuit and only not coming away with immortal fame because he had rather suddenly dropped out of the sport for reasons Albus could guess but Severus refused to disclose.
"More or less. We had tea first, everybody demonstrated their projects and they won the pudding, but they were insisting. It took a while to get enough free space in the common room, it's not supposed to be a duelling space. I hope I haven't set a bad example."
For a moment Severus looked horrified at the idea that his students would now turn the common room into a regular duelling venue, but then shook his head and continued.
"Well, you know how I feel about my students duelling. So I gave it a little twist, especially since I wanted everybody to participate and we had two First Years with raging trauma in the group. So they learnt defensive duelling, a basic Resilite and Clipeus, nothing dreadfully difficult. Even the First Years could work with that, and it's easy to practise. Everybody knew how to cast an Expelliamus, so they practised disarming each other carefully. A Resilite needs to be well-aimed, and they were busy enough with that. Also, wouldn't you believe it, disarm-your-Head-of-House actually seemed to be the highlight of the evening."
He looked a bit smug at that, and Albus could imagine the fervour with which his students worked to aim their Expelliarmus properly, sending Severus' wand flying towards them.
"I assume you enjoyed playing the part?"
Still looking smug Severus nodded, grinning ever so slightly. "They deserved some sense of achievement. Of course they had to work harder the older they were, there's no point in making things too easy. Miss Lovell and Miss Sigarsson had to try multiple times, but both managed a well aimed and properly executed Expelliarmus with enough force. They would've kept my wand as a trophy in the common room, they celebrated their success with surprising ruckus."
Sometimes Albus wished he had put in the work to become an animagus, preferably a small animal that could hide anywhere. He'd have loved to spy on this particular christmas party, sit beneath the armchairs and watch the Sixth Years celebrating their victory.
"You took the chance to give them a quick lesson in how to behave around powerful magical objects?"
Savouring his whiskey for a moment Severus didn't answer immediately. Eventually he put his glass down again and called for the bottle without turning around by simply stretching out a hand. Obediently it came gliding through the air into his palm.
"Like what you should do if you suddenly get hold of the wand a powerful Death Eater uses?"
Albus shrugged, meaning exactly that. They taught wand care, of course, but the wands their students used were new, in tune with their owner's magic but not overly hefty in their inherent force. It was continuous use through years that could instil their own power into them, growing with their owner's own strength and magical ability, and the spells cast with them became engraved into their magical nature. Some wands could be very much tied to their master, reacting badly if even touched by someone else, others were so powerful they could influence the witch or wizard holding them, distorting their sense of self and even manipulating them - and Albus would know about this, because his own wand was one of those, and had to be kept firmly out of practically everybody's hands. Severus' was one of the first category, having absorbed enough obscure and dark magic to become quite volatile, a powerful magical object in its own right that was deeply tied to Severus' magical signature and the patterns of his power. Albus knew that because he had kept that particular wand in his possession quite a few times now, mostly safekeeping it while Severus was either in Azkaban or otherwise incapacitated, and felt quite clearly that he was not to mess around with this wand, not unless he wanted to cause harvoc of unknown scale.
"Let's see, does this castle still have a roof? Great. Of course I made it very clear that they were not to do anything with it, and I made sure nobody had it in their hands for longer than a few seconds. They were surprised how quickly it vanished from their grasp again, their faces were hilarious. Miss Lovell was utterly disappointed."
Still speaking Severus was looking at the label on the bottle, apparently comparing the informative text on there with the taste of the whiskey he was drinking.
"And were they satisfied in general with your duelling lesson?"
Which had hardly been a duelling lesson at all, at least not from what Severus was telling him. Defensive duelling wasn't quite the way to do it, not in a sport as brutal and violent, making Quidditch look like an old ladies' pastime.
"It seems they enjoyed it. And to round it up Miss Lovell insisted on challenging me, she was very keen on it. One of her spells hit the ceiling lights, and she wasn't too happy about casting the Reparo entirely on her own."
Putting the bottle down on the table in front of him Severus sat back again, looking not too mad about the damage his little party had caused in his common room.
"That sounds as if you had quite a successful afternoon. I'm glad your students had fun, and those shielding spells might come in handy for them one day. Do you think they'll ever notice that you took an easy way out there?"
Severus shrugged. "Duelling isn't a sport for children and we shouldn't teach it at Hogwarts. If adults insist on beating each other up it's their thing, but we have enough corridor brawls on our hands as it is. And I certainly won't demonstrate proper duelling to a bunch of children who think my sole purpose in life is to peacefully stir large pots with wooden spoons while keeping eyeballs in jars as my company."
The mere image made Albus giggle.
"But wouldn't you like being just that?"
Noiselessly the bottle moved over the table, levitating smoothly to top up Albus' glass before it settled on the table again, in the precise spot where it had been before.
"Merlin, yes. The students should keep their illusions, just like they imagine Filius to be merely sweet and innocent, Minerva a terribly stern and strict lady, Pomona only thinking about plants all day and you the embodiment of an endearing old man with a terrible taste in robes."
Albus never thought he had terrible taste in robes and he made ready to lecture Severus on fashion, something the man knew absolutely nothing about judging from his always sharply cut trousers and wonderful white shirts. He had also easily picked up on the touch of sadness in Severus' voice.
"I am an endearing old man in fabulous robes, thank you. Not everybody can live in black - is that cashmere, by the way?"
Leaning over he reached out, his long arms just reaching over so he could pat Severus' arm. It was cashmere indeed, but both knew the gesture had barely anything to do with the fabric.
Whether it was because of the late hour after a long day or the whiskey they had already consumed Albus didn't know, but for once Severus didn't flinch and run but simply endured the affection bestowed on him, looking only slightly relieved when Albus removed his hand from his arm and sat back again.
"Your robes are an eyesore on a good day, and you know it well."
Then the smile vanished from his face, and he looked down at his knees, light mood gone as quickly as it came.
"We have to let them keep their illusions, but bloody hell, when Miss Adams stepped up to practice her shielding spells with Miss Sigarsson she had the same mixture of fear and determination on her face I've last seen on her mother being lead to her execution, and what do I do with that now? I couldn't do anything to save that woman, and shielding spells won't protect her daughter either."
Instead of expecting an answer he emptied his whiskey glass in one swift movement, placed it back on the table and rubbed his eyes. Dropping his hands again he looked tired beyond measure, the sadness of his defeat almost tangible. But before Albus could say anything he shook his head.
"No, you don't need to - it wasn't my intention to ruin your mood. The thought just sat in my head and refused to leave, maybe the sugar made it sticky. I'll sort through my mind later and make sure it goes back to where it came from."
Albus knew exactly what Severus meant with that, but it did nothing to stop him from worrying. Occlumency wasn't supposed to be a long term solution to deal with feelings, but Severus used it as just that, throwing everything he couldn't deal with or didn't have time to properly process behind the high walls he had built inside his mind and ignoring it, living forever on the outside of his own soul.
"You know you can always speak to me about these things, and you should, especially when they trouble you. You are doing important work, here and out there, and I know it doesn't feel like it, but you are saving people. So many of our students still live because of you, have families and a home because of your determination and decisionmaking. We can't save them all, Severus. There will be losses. It's war."
He spoke insistently, making sure Severus would grasp his words and internalise them as much as possible, while absolutely knowing he was fighting a loosing battle here.
"Of course, I know. I just wish the war would come already, this waiting around is difficult, long drawn out skirmishes, but no open battle. We've been waiting for this war for so long, and I know it will be soon - rather tomorrow then the week after, if you ask me."
He shook his head again, as if he needed to brush the thoughts from his mind. "But let's not dwell on this. How is your hand?"
A red herring if Albus had ever seen one, but one that hit close to home. But then he had come to Severus because he was the only one who knew about the curse, the one who had tried everything to break it and still couldn't believe they hadn't managed it, not with their combined power and cunning.
With a sigh Albus sat back and dissolved the spell obscuring the damage. He watched Severus closely as the black charred skin came to light, but found no sign of a flinch on his face. Not a stranger to pain and disguises himself he was too jaded by now, had already gone through the emotions of realising that Albus wasn't as untouchable as everybody believed. But Albus hadn't told him yet about the way he would die, about whose hands he had chosen to end his life, and for a moment the stifling feeling nearly overwhelmed him. Knowing what burden he was going to be placing on Severus' shoulder so very soon sobered him up immediately. He managed to push it away again, careful so Severus wouldn't notice what was amiss before everything could be revealed.
"As always, I believe. Christmas was a bit tiring, but the New Year will bring a little break."
It was about one quarter of the truth. He was dead tired after the festivities, the cheerfulness for the first time wearing him down, his energy focused on keeping himself upright and concealing the curse damage while letting the wizarding world continue to believe the man they had hailed as their saviour so many times was still there when he was inevitably gone and would never come back.
"We all seem to need one. Has it started to hurt?"
Albus moved his charred fingers, slowly as not to aggravate the pain.
"The curse seems to move less quickly since you broke one of the upper layers, that was good work. It's alright, sometimes a bit sore."
He felt Severus' gaze on him, suddenly very awake and focused, and realised he wouldn't get through with his lie. It was just a second, not much longer, but there was the spell. It was nothing but a soft brush, definitely no Legilimency involved. Severus was simply watching him intently, unblinking, and the magic gently glided over Albus' skin in a very comforting and familiar way. It was the magical equivalent to what he had done just moments earlier, the invisible hand patting his shoulder to see how he was feeling, or maybe a soft touch to the forehead, as if looking for the higher temperature of a fever. He could have pulled up a very quick masking spell, could have done something to prevent it, but felt strangely lulled in by the sheer honesty of Severus' open gaze. The spell was gone as soon as it had come, traces of the familiar magic still on Albus' skin.
Severus shook his head. "Of course you would lie. How bad is it?"
For a moment Albus could hear the reprimand in his voice, and he could have just as well been Minerva chiding one of her Gryffindors, a very unusual thought that amused Albus incredibly. Then he pulled himself back to reality and shrugged.
"If I did that you'd throw a huge fuss and stamp your feet claiming I'd invaded your privacy. It's fine, I can cope."
Now the look on Severus' face had reached the stage of pitiful, and Albus started to feel a bit uncomfortable. Usually they played this game with reversed roles, Albus fussing over his injured spy or criticise him for lying about his physical state. It felt strange to swap sides, and compassion looked unfamiliar on Severus' thin face.
Which suddenly seemed blurry for a second as the man sat back again, slowly dissolving the spells that kept his own facade of well-being and disguised what lay beneath, what years of spying and more recently suffering at Tom Riddle's hands had done to him. He had been so close to the brink of total collapse not too long ago, and Albus was proud he had managed to bring him back, although now that he knew what he still needed Severus for he felt slightly terrible for forcing him to stay alive. But alive he was, and tonight looking not too bad. Still very thin and pale, but the tremors caused by a massive and prolonged overdose of Cruciatus had ceased slightly in the past month, visible now only now and then, fuelled by tiredness and overexertion. Still there was no denying he looked worn down to the bone, even in the flattering warm light of the fireplace.
"I lie for a living, Albus, I know exactly what you're doing and why. Let me just tell you that I know a lot about pain management, and if you need to make use of my knowledge you can and should."
Still talking he held out a hand in front of him, fingers splayed, checking how steady they were, if the involuntary tremor was back or not. Following his gaze Albus saw it wasn't, or at least not overly visible. It probably meant Severus would take off to his laboratory this night and work, as he did whenever his body allowed him to these days. Albus knew fully well that this had been what had almost broken him - not the pain or the knowledge he'd slowly die, but that he couldn't trust himself anymore to work on his potions, was essentially becoming useless as a Potionsmaster. He could still teach without problems, but the more intricate wonders of his craft were out of reach for a man with perpetually trembling hands.
"Was that an offer?"
Severus only nodded, and Albus sincerely hoped they would never get to the point where he'd need to recur to this particular speciality of Severus', that he'd be dead before that, blasted into eternity by a well-placed killing curse.
"Thank you."
For a moment he wondered when he'd tell Severus and which words he'd use, but it was just a fleeting thought and he brushed it away as soon as it had come. Then he decided to switch the topic. It wouldn't do that they sat there, two wizards injured by the wars they were fighting, on Christmas day sullenly dwelling on their various broken parts. And he had just the thing to cheer them up, and maybe pull Severus' away from the delicate topic he was steering straight towards to.
"By the way, I meant to show you something. It has nothing to do with our morose musings here, wait - " He reaching into his robes, pulling up the spell hiding his damaged hand at the same time. Quickly he found the envelope he had been looking for, and when he looked up again Severus had replaced his disguising spells as well.
The envelope floated quietly through the air and Severus plucked it from where it dangled as soon as it was within his reach. Turning it around he frowned.
„Is this what I think it is?“
He read the address and looked up.
„Are you telling me somebody sent you a Howler? On christmas day? What did you do, I thought only enraged parents of crying second year Hufflepuffs were sending these to teachers anymore."
There was a bit of truth in his statement, especially since Severus himself probably received two or three Howlers each term, sent by parents worried about their precious child who just couldn't cope with his highly specific teaching style. He always made a point of opening them in front of the entire Great Hall during dinner, in the process mortifying the student whose parents' voice was shrilling out across the Hall yelling at their teacher, and always sending the Howler afterwards to that certain student to make sure the entire hall would know who cried to their mother because the Head of Slytherin had been mean to them. It usually made sure it wouldn't happen again for at least a couple of month and was always a great source of entertainment that didn't quite endear Severus to the student body.
"Open it."
Looking sceptical Severus turned the Howler around again. "Why?"
Now Albus couldn't help but grin. "Humour me."
Shrugging Severus pulled at the envelope, and the paper unfolded into the infamous mouth, red tongue hanging out. He leant back slightly anticipating the impact of a screeching voice, but instead the soft twinkling of a piano sounded. Confused he looked at Albus who was now grinning from ear to ear, and leant in a bit closer to listen to the slightly too low piano.
It was a christmas song, beautifully played, the sounds twinkling brightly. At least until the recorders suddenly set in, shrill whistling completely out of tune and so abruptly that Severus flinched and scrambled to get away from the piercing noise that easily overpowered the piano.
"Merlin, what the - "
The shocked look on Severus' face and the fact that he had fled down the length of the entire sofa to get away from the Howler was too much for Albus, who dissolved into belly shaking laughter.
Meanwhile the terrible recorder screeching continued, finally being merged with a group of people singing - well, rather shouting - a christmas song. It was out of tune and dreadfully merry, the singing mixed in with giggles and laughter. Then there was a short moment of silence until the actual message came, with the voice of Molly Weasley happily proclaiming:
"Dear Albus, we want to wish you a very happy christmas! We're the Weasleys, Molly and"
And then they shouted their names, one after the other - "Arthur", "Percy", "Fred! No, George!", "Fred, the real one!", "Ron", "I'm Harry!", "Here's Ginny!", followed by "And their guest Remus Lupin!" and, finally, a bark and Lupin's amused voice saying "with Padfoot!". Then they shouted the chorus, all of them together.
"Happy Christmas, Headmaster Dumbledore!"
And then there was laughter, clapping, babble of voices and finally silence. The Howler stretched once more, wrapped itself together again into a proper envelope and fell down on the coffee table. Albus was still laughing, half at the Howler itself and half at Severus, who was still clinging to his sofa wide-eyed and obviously trying to recover from the shock the noise had given him.
"That took two years from me Albus, thank you for the scare."
Slowly he relaxed again, returning to his former place on the sofa while eyeing the Howler warily. Albus wiped tears from his eyes and tried to catch his breath again.
"Delightful, isn't it? Christmas at the Burrow, what a wonderful thing."
Severus looked like he'd rather spent an entire night sitting at Tom Riddle's feet massaging the Dark Lord's toes than stay with the Weasleys for even an hour.
"How lovely. It seems Potter has turned into a Weasley as well by now, do you think the boy will come back a ginger?"
Albus grinned.
"I can't say I'm anything but glad about it. It's just what the boy needed, family and love. Don't we all need family and love?"
Severus was obviously poised to say something very unaffable, but kept the comment to himself. Picking up the Howler he sent it through the air back to Albus, who caught it and stuffed it again into the pockets of his robe. Then his hands wandered to another, bigger pocket for the small parcel.
"Speaking of that - "
He pulled the small parcel wrapped in cheerful purple-with-glittering-stars out, watched it grow back to its original size and sent it towards Severus.
"I won't sing you a song unless you ask for one, but, well. Happy Christmas, Severus."
This time Severus didn't flinch, but he looked less than pleased. "I can't imagine an occasion where I'll ask for a song, don't worry about it. But didn't we agree to not?"
Albus shrugged. "I'm an old man, let me have my little pleasures. It's nothing, really."
Taking the parcel Severus turned it around, finding it to his surprise soft to the pressure of his thumb. Then he sighed, placed the parcel on his coffee table and, untangling his long legs got up from the sofa. Followed by Albus' surprised gaze he marched out of his living room into his study. Seconds later he came back with a small wooden box in his hands, not wrapped but decorated with a dark blue satin bow.
"I thought we had agreed?"
Albus eyed the gift with unveiled pleasure. Severus shrugged and dropped down on the sofa again. "You never keep your part of our agreements, I've learnt as much in the past decades with you." He slid the little box over the table.
Still smiling Albus looked up. "It's been decades already, hasn't it?"
Severus nodded, and for a moment they just sat and looked at each other, contemplating the many years they had spent at each others' side, sometimes barely talking, sometimes exchanging secrets they hadn't really planned to ever tell anybody else, a strange mixture of complete vulnerability and absolute ignorance of each other's needs. It melted Albus' heart and at the same time nearly broke it, knowing what was still to come, what he would have to ruin so soon.
But Severus looked away first, cleared his throat and picked up the little parcel. Unwrapping it was a quick thing, and Severus held a pair of very warm looking green-and-silver striped wool socks in his hands.
"Are you serious - you didn't knit them yourself, did you?"
Albus grinned. "Of course, one hand and a bit of help from a spell. You're always cold, you need warm socks."
It was the most ridiculous gift, but he had already bought three books to give to Severus for his birthday in a few days, and he refused to buy another book for christmas. And the man was always cold, so why not socks? Everybody loved socks, at least in Albus' mind.
Turning the socks over Severus slowly shook his head, and then smiled. "I'm not a houseelf! Thank you. They will be useful."
Knowing that this was the highest praise a gift could earn from Severus Albus internally praised himself for his choice, and set to loosen the beautifully tied bow on his own box. The box itself was a lovely piece of craftsmanship, and just from the outside look Albus knew it would contain three vials. He found he was right, eyeing the delicate glass vials with satisfaction. The small label placed on top of the vials informed Albus that this was exactly what he had wanted: three vials of the potion Severus was most famous for if one didn't count a couple of his more world-changing inventions like the wolfsbane. It was the most perfect hangover cure Albus had ever seen, perfected during Severus' years at university, and one of his best guarded secrets.
"And three of it! Splendid, this will get me through New Years, at least."
He had begged Severus for a couple of vials earlier this month and received only a blank stare in return, so he was beyond pleased to now at least have enough for the next weeks.
"It should, and you should be happy to get them, I don't have much left." He seemed to think for a moment, and then got up. Walking around the sofa he vanished again, this time in the direction of his bedroom. Albus heard the faint sound of clinking glass, and when Severus returned he carried another vial. This time it was not labelled. Carefully he sat it down in front of Albus and returned to the sofa, sitting down again, slightly leaning forward. He nodded towards the new vial.
"It's not a christmas gift, but it might be useful. If the pain from your hand gets worse take it at night just before you retire. It will take about fifteen minutes to kick in, don't combine it with alcohol and eat properly before. If it doesn't work or you need more speak to me, and we will find a solution."
It was obvious he meant every word. Picking up the delicate glass vial Albus turned it in the light of the fireplace. The liquid inside was perfectly clear, almost like water, and very obviously not water at all.
"Thank you."
It vanished into one of the many hidden pockets of his robe, and Albus felt it would stay there for a while, a reminder that he wasn't as alone in this anymore as he had been before, which - if he was honest with himself - had maybe been the reason he had come to Severus this evening in the first place.
A wave of his hand refilled their glasses and they raised them simultaneously.
"Well, then - to warm socks and old friends."
Severus only shook his head, but smiled, and they clinked glasses and drank.