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Other People's Choices	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 24374 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story

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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Thirty-Nine—Christmas Visits
“HARRY! Happy Christmas, pup!”
Harry smiles up at Black and extends the gift he picked out and wrapped himself. Severus doesn’t know what it is. The boy insisted on visiting Hogsmeade alone and then smuggling his purchase back into the castle. Severus only cast enough spells to determine that it wasn’t dangerous or breakable.
He watches with mixed feelings now as Black shakes the gift, holds it to his ear, jokes about what it might be with Lupin and Harry, and then tears off the gleaming paper covered with moving Quaffles and Snitches.
“Books?”
Black sounds more than a little disappointed. Harry flushes and immediately hurries to explain, while Severus averts his eyes to the disgusting red-and-gold coloration of the room and carefully adds another tick to his personal tally against Sirius Black.
“They’re a series about a pureblood who rebels against his family and joins the Muggles. They came out while you were in Azkaban. So I know you haven’t had a chance to read them. But the main character reminds me a lot of you. I—I thought you might like them.”
Black handles the books reverently, then, putting them down a little dark wood table next to his overstuffed golden chair before he scoops up Harry in a hug that makes Severus’s wand hand twitch. Lupin appears to notice, and hovers anxiously over the pair. At least he seems to have gone a good job of keeping Black in line and making sure that he doesn’t escape these rooms.
Those threats to withhold Harry from contact with him have worked well.
“That’s wonderful, Harry,” Black says, dropping Harry back on the floor. “Thanks for thinking of me. And this is for you.” He reaches casually behind his chair and takes out a huge package that no one needs to shake. The shape of it is too obvious for that.
Severus stiffens. Harry accepts the package with hands that tremble slightly. “A broom?” he whispers. “This is great. But Sirius, you didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did,” Black says, and his eyes are dim suddenly. “It’s not like I got to spoil you enough when you were a kid. And you haven’t had enough spoiling since then, either. So take your Firebolt and like it.”
Severus controls many impulses while he watches Harry unwrap the broom. Yes, this is ridiculous. Yes, Harry hardly needs a more dangerous broom than the Nimbus he has. Yes, Black is an idiot for not being able to resist his own impulses, and using money from the Black vaults, which could attract Ministry attention if someone is monitoring them closely enough. Most goblins wouldn’t give information like that to the Ministry, but since gold is the only thing that matters to them, a large enough bribe would convince them.
And yes, Severus can admit that he is jealous of Black for making Harry’s eyes shine like that. He probably isn’t going to get the same reaction for the gift he got Harry.
“Happy Christmas to you, too, Harry,” Lupin says then, all prim as if he has a right to act like that, and holds out a gift. Severus casts a detection spell at it before Harry can touch it. Lupin shoots him an exasperated glance.
Harry doesn’t, but neither does he look at Severus. “Thank you, sir,” he says, and opens the package to reveal a Defense book that Severus reluctantly supposes is a good one. Harry’s eyes promptly blaze, and he flips it open and looks through it for spells he doesn’t know. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“And here. Here’s your gift.”
Severus agreed to make the Wolfsbane that Harry wanted as a gift for Lupin mainly because it was Harry asking, but also so he could see the man’s face. And the expression is everything he wants as Lupin opens the velvet-lined box with the vials in it. “Harry…”
“It’s only enough for two months, but I thought it would help.”
“It does. Thank you.” Lupin bends down to hug Harry, giving Severus a suspicious look that is almost as entertaining as the last. Honestly, the man appears to think that only Gryffindors can change over the years.
“I want to watch you fly it, Harry!”
“Not right now, Black,” Severus says with a slight drawl. “Or we are going to be late for the Weasleys’ party.” Molly ended up demanding that they come Christmas Eve and stay overnight. Nothing could make Severus do so, but he gave Harry permission. He knows that Harry’s little friends will make a bigger fuss than usual if they’re late. They seem to think that Severus is only waiting for the right moment to cut Harry up into Potions ingredients.
(Severus is insulted that they think he would be that obvious with a body).
“You timed this, Snape? Didn’t you? You made sure that I wouldn’t have time to watch Harry fly just to torment me!”
“No, he didn’t, Sirius. It’s just that we have to leave, and I wanted to give you your gifts on Christmas Eve. As close to Christmas Day as possible. I know you missed a lot of Christmases when you were in Azkaban. That’s all I was thinking of.”
Severus feels his chest ache as if someone has broken one of his ribs. Harry should not need to reassure adults this way. Severus can think of few thirteen-year-olds for whom it would ever be necessary. The ones he can think of all have Death Eaters for parents, and have years of caution instilled in them. They reassure and placate those who are dangerous, those who could hurt them.
Never, as Harry is doing right now, in an attempt to make sure that an adult is not hurt.
“Well, all right, then.” Black leans back with a sigh and a dramatic fold of his arms. Severus finds his pout equally dramatic, or perhaps melodramatic. “As long as you’re going to be back soon and I can watch you fly it.”
“Of course I will, Sirius.” Harry flings his arms around Black and holds on tight for so long that Severus feels compelled to clear his throat. Harry starts a little as he lets go of Black and gazes wistfully at both him and Lupin. “We’ll get to fly and read and do everything else that we want to.”
And that sounds as if he is reassuring a child, Severus thinks, barely managing to keep from shaking his head. He ushers Harry out the door of Black’s rooms, although he stops several times so Harry can look back over his shoulder and wave.
“Thanks for taking me to see them. And brewing the Wolfsbane. You didn’t have to do either of those things.”
“I wish to make you happy.”
Harry looks up at him suspiciously, which he should, since Severus put the emphasis on that particular word on purpose. “Okay,” Harry says slowly. “Do you think we have all the presents that we need to take to the Weasleys’?”
“You should. I am not indulging in this ridiculousness.”
“But you’re going to help me gather them up and float them around, right, sir? And get them through the Floo?”
Severus chooses to nod and then not look back at Harry as they return to his quarters, where the gifts for the Weasleys are piled. He is afraid that he may say something out of pity, and that will cause Harry to retreat in indignation. It is hard enough making sure that he keeps his temper and his composure when they talk about Harry’s past. He is the only one Harry speaks to about things like this. Severus doesn’t dare alienate him. That would be an enormous step backwards for Harry.
Perhaps it is its own piece of ridiculousness that he is the one taking care of James Potter and Lily Evans’s son. But it is not a piece that he is prepared to give up.
*
“Oh, Harry.”
Mrs. Weasley is hugging him so hard that Harry feels a little suffocated. He wriggles and manages to escape, and she lets him go, but she’s still pushing tears and hair out of her eyes with one hand and sniffling as she smiles down at him.
“Come and see the tree,” she says, and then Ron and Hermione pop up and hug him, and Professor Snape is floating the gifts they brought past them so that they can settle under the glittering tree. Ginny’s there, too, although she doesn’t say anything, just smiles at him. Harry smiles back. He’s glad that she outgrew sending him singing Valentines.
The tree is enormous and looks as if it might make the Burrow’s ceiling collapse in on itself. Most of the garlands seem to be red and gold. Harry can tell without even looking that Professor Snape is curling his lip. But there’s a strand of green-and-silver garland strung around the bottom of the tree.
Mrs. Weasley beams at Harry when he thanks her. “Well, you’re always welcome here, Harry. It doesn’t matter which House you’re in.”
The evening becomes one long, warm blur after that. Harry eats potatoes and ham and buttered bread and biscuits and hot chocolate until he thinks he might burst. Even Professor Snape unbends enough to have a conversation with Mr. Weasley about something in the Ministry. Ron sits next to him and complains happily about how many games the Cannons have lost. Hermione talks about homework until the twins pelt her with strings of garlands that wrap around her hair. Percy makes a pompous speech about the Ministry and the celebrations they did there that no one pays attention to. Bill and Charlie, Ron’s older brothers that Harry’s barely met, are there and tell all sorts of fascinating stories about Egypt, goblins, dragons, fire, and Dark curses that make Harry think he might like to be a curse-breaker someday.
And the gifts seem like there’s no end to them. Harry gets the usual Weasley jumper and an enormous tray of chocolate biscuits from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione’s got him a book on the history of Slytherin and Gryffindor and the beginnings of the House rivalry. Harry shoots her a questioning look, but she only smiles and nods and looks a little wistful.
Ron has actually put together a book for him, out of all the newspaper articles that he can find concerning the Cannons. He must have bound and stitched it together with the spells he was practicing so hard in the library near the end of term. Harry grins as he flips through it and watches Seekers miss the Snitch, Chasers miss the Quaffle, and Beaters collide with their own Bludgers instead of the opposing team’s.
“This is wonderful, Ron.”
“Knew you’d like it. How could you not like it? It’s the Cannons.”
Ron elbows him, and Harry elbows him back, and watches in contentment as Ron opens Harry’s box of chocolates from Honeydukes, and Hermione opens the huge box of different kinds of quills. Her eyes are bright as she flips through them: quills that check spelling in languages other than English, quills that draw small amusing pictures of owls on the parchment when left on their own, quills that change color when you write an incorrect comma.
“Thank you, Harry,” she says, and beams at him before she goes back to sorting through her treasures.
“She likes those, mate? Is she mental?”
Harry only shrugs, and says nothing. It’s enough to know that he chose wisely when it came to Hermione. The quills felt a little impersonal, but on the other hand, they’re exactly the kind of practical gift that Hermione prizes. And she’ll have fine taking apart all the different spells on them and figuring out how they work.
Harry gifts the twins with pranks from every joke shop he could order from in Britain, not just Zonko’s, and a few in Ireland. Fred’s face is full of glee as he spreads out an array of sweets on the floor. George’s hands are twitching as he examines the potions.
So are Professor Snape’s, in fact. “Must you?” he hisses at Harry under his breath, from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, sir.” Harry meets his eyes and wishes for a second that he’d brought Professor Snape’s gift with them. But he doesn’t think that Snape would appreciate opening it in front of the Weasleys. “This makes them happy.”
Snape gives him a deep, thoughtful glance, the kind he used after Remus and Sirius opened up their presents. Harry is glad to turn away and open the set of “special” Exploding Snap cards the twins got him, which immediately attempt to grow wings and fly to the far corners of the room while singing at the tops of their voices.
The evening ends with hot chocolate and Professor Snape going back to Hogwarts while promising to come fetch Harry the next day, and Harry and Ron eating enough chocolate to feel uncomfortable, before they bed down in Ron’s room and argue over the Cannons and the Falmouth Falcons in heated whispers.
Ron falls asleep in the middle of a sentence, and Harry lies there with his arms folded behind his head and watches the glittering stars that Ron has enchanted his ceiling with now that he’s good enough at the spells they’ve all been practicing together in the library.
It’s the end of a wonderful day.
*
“You are being very quiet, Theo.”
Theo smiles a little and nods to his father, turning away from the window where he was watching the falling snow. “I was thinking about the gift Harry got me. It’s very thoughtful, but—surprising. I didn’t think he knew me that well.”
“I didn’t, either. I didn’t realize you were that paranoid.”
Theo doesn’t touch the bracelet clasped around his wrist, because he doesn’t need to. He can feel the sharp protection humming around himself and through his bones. Harry paid for so many protective spells to be cast on the bracelet, which in itself is a rather plain and heavy silver cuff, that Theo can feel them in his teeth. The bracelet is going to shield him from a lot of poisons, a lot of technically non-poisonous potions, most hexes and jinxes and Dark spells, and the Imperius Curse.
Each spell had to be cast separately, which means that Harry must have been planning this for a long time. Theo thinks he understands why Harry spent the money—he can hear Harry’s impatient tone now about what else does he have to spend the money on?—but the time is a different issue.
“One might think that you conceive of yourself as living in dangerous times, Theo.”
“Not so much in the school. But one can’t take enough precautions. I would never have thought Flint was stupid enough to stand up against Harry and get punished as soundly as he was. But that happened. And Harry’s been threatened in the school for two years running now, even if Black didn’t turn out to be a threat. No saying what might happen now that I’m closer to him and could get caught up in his adventures.”
“It would please me if you did not.”
Theo inclines his head and stands. “Of course, Father. I intend to follow Harry to glory of a certain sort, you know. Danger is not it.”
His father smiles thinly. Theo stands for a moment looking at him before he’s dismissed from the library. Yes, he is a little thinner than before about the face. A little paler around the eyes.
Small changes. Not ones that many people would notice. But Theo notices.
“You may go, Theo.”
Theo bows to his father and departs, his steps soundless on the thick carpet. His own smile is thin, for different reasons than his father’s.
People like Draco believe in immediate, non-subtle revenge. Blaise always holds his tongue and holds back, so that the strike might come from any direction when someone isn’t expecting it—but not more than a few months later. And Theo thinks that Harry probably doesn’t believe in revenge at all. He’ll attack or forgive, and otherwise he’ll warn people the way he warned Chang.
But Theo is his own person, not the sum of his friendships or his House.
Theo does not forget.
*
“You should not have sent a gift to Harry Potter, Daphne.”
Daphne only stands there and watches her mother. Alianora Greengrass’s brow is wrinkled, and she glances out the window at the departing owl and then turns back to Daphne with a small sigh.
“You realize what this might do to the standing and reputation of the family?”
“Only those you tell. I know that Harry won’t tell anyone else if I don’t want him to. And he’s smart enough to keep quiet until he hears from me.”
“Then why make the gesture?”
Daphne looks patiently at her mother, and finally Alianora softens and bends down to kiss Daphne’s brow. “Yes, all right. Come to the dining room, then. The house-elves are getting agitated about our absence from dinner.”
Daphne is happy enough to follow. She has made the gesture she wanted, taken the step she wanted.
It remains to be seen what happens. But she’s pleased with what she’s accomplished so far.
*
Kain: Yes, if Draco wants to be fully accepted by people in the group other than Harry himself, he's going to have to apologize. At the moment, Draco doesn't spend a lot of time with Ron and Hermione the way Blaise and Theo do, so it hasn't come up.
I think Ron is adapting as well as can be expected. He's not perfect, but he's getting along with the Slytherins. And Harry will be doing the balancing act for a while.
The biggest conflict Harry has is convincing people that he's ordinary. A lot of people, like Blaise, recognize that he's not going to be allowed to be that way even if he wants to.
DarkenedRose291988: Thanks. I'm not sure what was confusing, though?
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