Date: December 2, 2003
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Severus Snape/??
Summary: Solstice = Love
Disclaimer: The HP characters belong to J. K. Rowling: I merely borrow them.
Feedback address: jmann@pobox.mondent.com Note 1: Part of the Slash Advent Calender of 2003
Note2: Author's Note can be found at the end of the story.

Severus was five the first time he saw his lover.

That was the year he began school and the witch who taught the little, little ones had explained about Solstice and Yule and about what the Muggles called Christmas.

He went home and told his parents. He even showed them the small gift the teacher had given each of her charges. A small ball that glittered.

He was only five but he should have known better. His father grew red in the face and his mother white. The ball burst into flame at a flick of his father's wand and the fighting began.

He hid in the small hallway alcove that was his bedroom, listening in the dark to the screams and shouts, the curses that flowed back and forth, all the while holding in his hand the ashes of what had been his very first gift.

He heard a sound, a whisper of robes, and looked up to find himself being watched by a pair of black eyes.

He should have been afraid. He was so often afraid. And this was a stranger. But his father's voice had risen to dangerous levels and his mother was now weeping hysterically. He tried very hard to make himself invisible, so that if his father came into the hallway, he wouldn't see him.

That was far more worrying to him than the stranger who, when he looked up again, had silently come to stand right by him. Still not saying a word, the stranger sat next to him on the floor and Severus opened his mouth to warn him about his father. But a long, thin finger rose out of the sleeve of a robe darker than night and indicated that he should be silent.

So he was.

He was so cold that the stranger's warmth drew him. He leaned carefully against the heavy robe, fully aware that the hand that had silenced him could just as easily hurt him. But he was shivering from the coldness that seeped into his small body from the unheated hallway, and from the fear that overwhelmed him whenever his parents fought like this, so he dared it.

The sleeve of the robe did rise, but it was to draw him nearer, to rest on his thin shoulders. The gesture offered him more than the warmth his body so needed: it warmed his heart.

So when the arm scooped him up and he could rest his head on the stranger's shoulder, he sighed and snuggled closer.

"You're a brave one," whispered a deep voice softly in his ear.

Severus tilted his head up and looked fully into the face of the stranger. He shook his head. "No, I'm not." He, too, spoke softly, not wanting to get the attention of his father, who was now smashing things in the small kitchen.

And he closed his eyes and rested against a solid shoulder.

When he woke, he was under the covers of his bed. The stranger was nowhere to be seen. Severus wanted to ask his parents about him but, by the time things had settled once more into the wariness of everyday life, he didn't bother.

But he did carefully hide the small ball that he'd found reconstructed in his hand when he'd woken that morning.

By the time the next Solstice came around, Severus knew better than to mention anything about it. He accepted the piece of chocolate that his teacher handed out that year but kept it in his pocket.

Not that any of that helped. His parents were already arguing by the time he got home.

He was careful to keep to the shadows, except that he wasn't quick enough and his father's hand split his lip before he managed his escape to the alcove.

He was sitting in his corner, in the dark, the end of his sleeve against his lip. Every time the bleeding stopped, he would forget and move his mouth. Which caused the bleeding to begin once again. So he sat there, his knees drawn up as close to his chest as possible, mouth carefully not moving, with his sleeve already sodden with his failures.

"Let me look at that."

Severus looked up at the stranger who was crouching so close to him. Had it been anyone else... At six, Severus already knew better than to accept help from anyone.

"I won't hurt you."

Severus met the stranger's eyes and, slowly, he lowered his sleeve and allowed that long finger to touch his swollen lip. A slight sensation of warmth and a feeling of healing.

"Thank you," he whispered. When the stranger didn't leave, he slipped his hand into his pocket and removed the small piece of chocolate. He looked at it longingly for a breath, then offered it to the stranger.

Who looked at it for much longer. And then smiled, a smile that filled Severus with a warmth that allowed no room for cold or fear or pain. "Thank you, but no. That's yours and you should eat it."

Severus thought a moment then slipped it back into his pocket. "Maybe later," he said.

The stranger sat next to him and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, put his arm around Severus, who guardedly leaned into the hard body. After a moment, the stranger once more scooped Severus into his arms and Severus went with a sigh of utter contentment.

The piece of chocolate joined the small ball in its hiding place.

At seven, Severus and his parents moved and he was certain that he would never see his stranger ever again. Now and then, when life was difficult, he would wait until night and the certainty that both of his parents were sound asleep. He would take his box of treasures out of its hiding place and remember the warmth he had felt in the stranger's arms.

But when Solstice came around and with it the usual argument that escalated into a fight, the stranger found him again. And this time, a small silver star, his first gift from the stranger, joined the others in his treasure box.

The Solstice he was ten, there were five such treasures in his box that got him through the difficult times. And the times had never been more difficult. His father lashed out at anything and everything. At ten, Severus often tried to get between his father's rages and his mother. So that when the stranger came that year, Severus's face bore the marks and bruises of his father's most recent displeasure.

Severus said nothing, just allowed the visitor to inspect his face and heal it and the other areas of pain on his body. He could feel the visitor's anger but had no fear of it. Severus knew that he had nothing to fear from him. And, though at ten he thought himself too old to snuggle, he did lean close against the warmth and turned so that his arm rested on the solid chest. Wrapped in the folds of the heavy robe, he felt a peace and calm that entered his very bones.

His father died that year and Severus was sent to Hogwarts. His mother quickly remarried and went away, leaving all of her past behind, including Severus.

He didn't want to attend the Solstice meal in the Great Hall. He was informed that attendance was compulsory unless Madam Pomfrey granted him dispensation. So he sat there, eyes glaring at anyone who dared look his way, ignoring the brightly wrapped gifts waiting at each place. Oh, there was one, a small one, at his but he knew that one was just for show. So that the poor charity case wouldn't feel left out.

He scowled all the way through the meal, hoping that the Headmaster would finally allow him to return to his room so that he could be alone to mourn the fact that this year there was no way that his visitor could come. This was Hogwarts and it wasn't like the places he and his parents had lived in. It was so heavily warded that a flea couldn't get in without Dumbledore knowing about it.

He was finally excused when Professor McGonagall protested to the Headmaster that he was damping all their fun.

He forced himself to walk out calmly, a sneer on his face. But once out of the range of hearing – not that they would have heard, there had been such a flare of laughter as he had left their sight in the Great Hall – he ran for his dormitory and threw himself onto his bed, muffling his sobs into the bedcovers.

He felt the warmth first. On his head, as though a hand were offering to console him. Hoping and yet chastising himself for doing so, he raised his head and found his Solstice visitor sitting on the bed next to him. Without hesitation, he threw himself into the only welcoming arms he'd known in his short life.

"You came! You came!" he sobbed as he wrapped his body around his visitor, not caring that he really was too old for such displays of affection.

The visitor had been startled by the force of his welcome, falling back onto the bed, but he tightened his hold on Severus, who only sobbed the harder.

"Hush, hush, lad. Of course I came. Whyever did you think I wouldn't?"

Holding on for dear life, Severus managed to croak, "Hogwarts...wards..."

The chest he was gripping vibrated under his ear with a small, rusty chuckle. "Ah, yes. Hogwarts and its famous wards. Never fear, Severus. They will always keep you safe, those wards. They just can't keep me out."

A hand raised Severus's chin and titled his head so that they could look at each other. The end of the heavy sleeve carefully wiped the tears away and a handkerchief suddenly appeared in hand, held to the nose Severus would never grow into. "Blow."

And once the tears were under control, they lay on the bed, Severus holding tightly onto this person who kept his promises. The long hand stroked his head, and with it, as always, a sense of peace filled him.

Which was why he dared. "Will you always find me?"

He could hear the smile in the visitor's voice. "Yes."

"Every year?"

There was a slight pause, as though his visitor had to think about that. He was beginning to worry when the arms around him tightened and he could feel a chin rubbing along the top of his head. "Yes."

A moondrop in the shape of a tear joined the treasures that year.

They talked more after that year. Lying on the bed, Severus discussed things that interested him, in a calm voice, belying the fact that he was wrapped around his visitor, who held him equally tightly. Only good things. He didn't want to ruin their time together with thoughts of the reality of his life here at Hogwarts. He'd also begun staying awake for the full time of the visit. He grew to hate the coming of dawn and the end of their time together.

When he was thirteen, he asked, in as casual a tone as his racing heart would allow, "Please, take me with you."

"Oh, Severus. I can't."

Severus went to pull away, but he was held firmly.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that it's not time."

"When will it be time?" In spite of himself, a little of the bitterness he felt about life slipped past his tenuous hold.

A hand insisted he look up and he did, into eyes that were blacker than his own. Eyes that looked at him with care and concern. Not like the supposed concern he saw whenever he was called up into the Headmaster's presence.

"You'll know when it's time, Severus. I promise you that."

Severus couldn't hide the despair he felt. "Will there truly be a day?"

The smile he got pushed the despair aside. "Oh, yes. I promise you. And then you will have to decide whether you want to stay with me or move on."

Severus shook his head, a so-rare smile on his lips. "Not a hard choice."

At fifteen, that exchange had become part of the ritual. Though, that year, Severus added, his hand sliding inside the heavy robe, audacious in its touch, his voice purring, "But will you want me?"

And his hand caught and returned to his side, the visitor chuckled. "Not yet."

They became lovers the year Severus was sixteen.

"Are you sure about this, Severus?" asked the visitor, his hand gently stroking Severus's face.

Severus rubbed himself along his soon-to-be lover's body, letting him feel his erection. He'd been thinking of this night every time he'd masturbated. He'd even read every sex manual he could find in the Restricted Section so that he would know what to expect and how to please his lover.

There was a roughness in the beloved tones of his lover's voice. "And how would you like to see me, Severus?"

The question confused Severus. "How? Well, as you are. As I have always seen you. Why should I want to see you otherwise?"

And, after a stilled moment, his lover drew him down for his first lover's kiss.

In spite of his preparations, this time there was no penetration; only mutual groping and coming and very bad puns about ‘sticky' gifts. And later, drowsing in his lover's arms, Severus realized that only he had disrobed and maybe that was why his lover hadn't seemed much more proficient than he.

The Solstice he was eighteen, he had already received his Dark Mark and was working in a laboratory that Lord Voldemort had set up just for him.

He was there when his visitor appeared. Severus pretended he hadn't felt the surge of warmth that filled him whenever his lover was near.

"Severus?"

Looking over his shoulder, Severus scowled, impatiently, "What?"

"Why have things changed, Severus?"

He leaned back against the counter and slipped his hands into his sleeves to hide their trembling. "Because it wasn't enough. One night a year does not balance all the insults and injuries of the other days and nights. I asked you to take me with you and you didn't. For whatever reason. Lord Voldemort wants me. And for more than one night."

His lover stood very still and then nodded. "It shall be as you want."

And he disappeared.

Severus closed his eyes, biting his lips to keep himself from calling him back. He reminded himself that he was wanted by someone who didn't disappear on him, who had promised him the proper appreciation of his skills. Who said he loved him. Yet, whenever Severus occupied Lord Voldemort's bed, he never felt what he had those rare few times he had had with his Solstice lover.

Pushing all that aside, Severus hardened his heart and turned back to the potion he was creating for the one who said he loved him.

He didn't know if the stranger visited him the following Solstice: he was off with the Lord's Death Eaters, dealing with some troublesome wizard who thought himself too good to support the Dark Lord's plans. And the next, he was in Azkaban, waiting to be told that Dumbledore had denied him, not permitting himself to hope that he wouldn't.

"Why the dungeons?"

Severus looked up from the scrolls he was marking. He didn't dare turn his head for fear that he was imagining the voice and the warmth that he'd thought he'd never again hear or feel.

"Once, Severus, I promised you that I would always find you. Every year. You didn't see me because you didn't want to. I accepted that. But the fact that you can hear me makes me wonder if perhaps you haven't changed your mind."

Then Severus did turn, to see the black eyes of his lover watching him. "Maybe I didn't want to see you because I didn't want you to see what I had become."

The cowled head shook slightly from side to side. "That never mattered to me."

"Is this the time when I have to decide whether I move on or whether I can stay with you?"

"No. This is the time when you decide whether a night a year will do."

Severus placed his quill down on the desk and slowly rose to his feet. He drew his robe close to himself, as though for warmth, and stepped near enough to his lover to feel his breath on his cheek. "Do you still want me?"

There was a hint of a smile. "Yes, I do. Brat that you are."

But Severus couldn't find it in him to smile back at the gentle tease. "Why?"

A long finger stroked his cheek thoughtfully. "I think...it may be because I have always found it easy to love you, Severus."

Severus leaned into his lover's body. "I don't understand why, but I won't question it."

His lover's arms rose to clasp him near. Severus's arms rose to meet around his back. He leaned even closer into the welcoming warmth. The soft, deep voice whispered into his ear, "Why do you always welcome me, Severus?"

"Not always." Severus rubbed his face on the shoulder, as though reclaiming territory.

"You were angry. I understood the reasons. But you always thought of me, Solstice night. So, in that way, I have always been with you."

Severus looked up. "I love you. I've loved you since I was five and you held me. Only you."

His lover's thumb brushed the wetness away from Severus's eyes. "As I am?"

Severus nodded. "As I am also." And angled his head so that his lover could claim his mouth.

The Solstice after the final elimination of Voldemort was also the first after the leaving of Potter and his cohorts.

Dumbledore had decided that two Dark Lords were enough for him and he'd simply disappeared. McGonagall, the new Headmistress, and Severus both knew that he'd ensconced himself on some South Pacific island, out of deference to his aching joints, or so he'd told them. Severus had rolled his eyes, not commenting on the rather silly bold-print shirt the former Headmaster was wearing when he'd checked on the old man. Nor about the small umbrellas in the very large drink he was carrying in both hands.

As was tradition, Severus ate in the Great Hall with the other members of the staff who had survived. He played his usual role of ‘grouch' and left them as soon as was acceptable after pudding.

His halting step hurried in spite of his damaged knee as he went through the hallways, down the stairs, so that by the time he reached his dungeon rooms, he was almost running, ignoring the pain that flared up his side.

Closing the door behind him, he add several wards so that he could not be bothered until late the following day. He put out the fires in both fireplaces, the one in his sitting area as well as the one in his bedroom, so that no one could floo in or get hold of him in any manner.

He took a shower, brushed his teeth, tried to smell his breath. He avoided looking at his body in the mirror — which knew better than to make any comments within his hearing. Besides, he knew what he looked like. Scrawny. His ribs showing. His body decorated with still-livid scars from Voldemort's response to Severus's betrayal of him. His eyes tired with sights he'd never forget. His nose more prominent than ever on a face that bore far too many memories of the past year and its battles. No wonder Dumbledore was refusing to act his age. The past year had nearly killed them. Had killed so very many others.

But this was Solstice and Severus refused to think of anything other than the night.

Still naked, he rummaged around in a chest of drawers, finding the right place to press and open the secret panel. From its hiding place, Severus pulled out his box of treasures. He sat on his bed, propped up on pillows, his stiff, aching leg out in front of him, and carefully spilled out the remembrances that had gotten him through so many hard times. Thirty- three of them in all, one for each year his lover had visited him: none for the three that he had acted like such a fool and pushed him away.

"No matter how old you get, you're still very much the child I found that night long ago."

Severus's smile warmed the room. He forgot his treasures as he reached for his lover. "Only for you."

Their first kiss was always gentle. Hesitant. As though his lover was waiting for Severus to indicate that he was indeed welcome.

As though Severus never counted on this one night to make it through another year.

His body pressed close to his lover's, Severus reached for the hood of the robe, ready to take it down. Hands closed over his. "How would you like to see me, Severus?"

Severus smiled. Every year, his lover made him this offer and every year Severus reaffirmed his love for him. He cocked his head. "As I have always seen you."

"As I am? Have you truly seen me as I am all these years, my Severus?"

His response was coloured with his love and his sincerity. "You are as I first saw you, all those years ago."

And Severus took possession of his lover's mouth as his hands slowly undraped the robe off the body he so loved to touch.

They lay wrapped up in each other, his lover's cock still up his arse, when Severus asked as he always did, "Take me with you?"

This time there was silence instead of the ready refusal of other years. Severus raised his head to look into his lover's eyes. "Please."

There was acceptance in those deep black eyes and gentleness in the hand that brushed the sodden hair off his face. "And if I do, will you want to stay with me? As I am?"

Severus's surging happiness left no room for unpleasant memories in his eyes or on his face. He actually grinned and rubbed his nose playfully along his lover's face. "That depends. How long will you want to keep me with you?"

"Till the end of time."

And smiling, Death enfolded his lover in his arms.

Author's Note: The Christmas I was eleven, we went to my grandparents' house for several days. My mother insisted on perfect behaviour: we were not to complain of the fact that all we were permitted to do was sit quietly in the living room and watch television.

That Christmas, I saw, for the first and only time in my life, "Death Takes a Holiday", an old black and white film. It made a great impression on me. As I write this, I can still run entire scenes of that film in my mind. (Forget about that bland, politically correct remake with Hopkins and Pitt.)

I guess you could say that this is my tribute to it.

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