pekeleke

Title: Make A Wish, Kitty-Cat.
Fandom: Harry Potter (Snarry)
Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape.
Author: pekeleke.
Rating: G.
Word count: 973
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.
A/N1: Unbetaed. Written for the adventdrabbles (DW,LJ, IJ) 2015 prompt 23: Winter Solstice / Prompt 25: Puppy tangled in ribbon / prompt 27: Sledding / prompt 28: Snowflake.
A/N2: This is the twelfth part of my Black Smoke series.
Summary: Severus plopped himself atop his recently conquered, extra-high, bank of snow and refused to hide from the truth: this was the future he wanted. This was the 'family' he'd chosen. This was the life he'd find the courage to live if Harry gave him the chance.

Make A Wish, Kitty-Cat.

Severus had never been the Christmassy sort. He wasn't the Yule sort, either, so he'd never bothered to wake up before the sun itself on the Winter Solstice, just to witness the sunrise. He'd never searched the frozen woods for the perfect Yule log to burn for 'good luck,' either.

Yule, Christmas, Easter and even the summer vacation were 'coupley' -or even worse: family- things in his head. They were blissfully student-free periods during the otherwise student-packed school year, and he enjoyed them for the extra-solitude that a virtually empty Hogwarts often afforded him and the chance to brew until he dropped.

Harry, though, was a completely different sort of man. He did 'couplely' things even though he had no partner. He was neck-deep in family outings, babysitting, gift buying and log-exchanging with Andromeda Tonks, the Weasleys and a truly mind-boggling number of friends. Harry didn't enjoy solitude because solitude couldn’t babble back, hug him back or laugh at his terrible jokes. Solitude made the Wizarding World's savior feel alone.

Severus would have never imagined he'd enjoy doing 'coupley' things with anyone, but he enjoyed doing them with Harry. He'd enjoyed being the blanket-wrapped bundle that had accompanied the ex-Gryffindor as he admired the sunrise, listening to his soft-toned babble as they people-watched from the comfort of the garden bench.

He'd have never imagined he'd willingly accompany Harry and Teddy in their 'adventurous' search for the perfect Yule log, either, but the thought of letting them go without him hadn't even crossed his mind. This was his first 'proper' Yuletide season, and he hadn't wanted to miss a single second of it, no matter how much quieter it'd have been to wait for them back home, dozing comfortably by the fire.

The outing was turning out to be unexpectedly fun, too. They'd gone sledging into the nearby woods atop an honest to goodness Reindeer-drawn sledge because “That's how 'Santa' does it, Teddy.” And trekked in snow so high that it constantly brushed the underside of Severus' exposed belly, making him shiver with cold even as he snorted at the antics of the puppy tangled in ribbon that belonged to the boisterous family walking alongside them.

Harry kept casting Warming Charms at both Teddy and himself, having learned after the seventh time he'd been hissed at for trying to lift Severus up from the ground that 'kitty' was too happy frolicking in the snow to heed sensible advice like “You're shivering too much, lil' mate” or “That bank of snow is too high for your short legs.”

Severus was being reckless, and he knew it, but he was honestly convinced he was safe. Harry would never allow him to come to real harm, so he could afford to be as stubborn as he wanted and as playful as he'd never allowed himself to be. He'd spent long enough being sensible, responsible and boring, thank you very much. And now that he'd placed enough faith in someone to trust them with his precious well-being he'd discovered an hitherto unknown desire to see if he could let his hair down -just a bit, though- and be the kind of man Albus had always insisted he could be: one who could embrace his own silliness wholeheartedly. One who'd thrive within the circle of his chosen family. One who could be happy, if only he allowed himself to be.

Stumbling slightly as he reached the top of the ridiculously tall bank of snow Harry had predicted he'd never be able to climb, Severus heard Teddy's exited “Thith one, Hawy. I foud the pulphet log!” and looked towards the child. Harry was standing right beside him, ohhing and ahhing delightedly at 'the most perfect log in existence' and Severus plopped himself atop his recently conquered, extra-high, bank of snow and refused to hide from the truth: this was the future he wanted. This was the 'family' he'd chosen. This was the life he'd find the courage to live if Harry gave him the chance. And he'd have never found it without the kitten. 'I wish you could stay, lil' mate. I wish there was a way for us to keep you that didn't involve giving up my own form permanently. I wish you could be alive -and 'ours'- for real.'

The thought had barely settled in his mind when Severus felt suddenly too dizzy to make the final descent towards 'his' boys. He took a deep breath and shook his head determinedly, but the dismissive motion only made him feel worse. His rump slid from his perch atop the snow-bank, and he mewled in distress as he fell, head first, towards the ground. His nose twitched as he inhaled a snowflake or two and he sneezed in utter misery just as Harry made it to his side.

“What's wrong, lil' one? Did you trip on a buried rock?” Severus had just managed to lift his head high enough to mewl at Harry reassuringly when his gaze caught the glowing web of rainbow-colored magic that surrounded the Yule log they had just chosen.

'Wish Magic… We have to get out of here.' He thought frantically, knowing how unstable that kind of power could be. He hissed in panic and pointed with his paw, trying to redirect Harry's attention towards the dangerously close log, but he never completed the motion. His leg chose that very moment to cramp, and his entire body froze. His pretty black fur disappeared as his bones began to grow, re-shaping themselves into the familiar lines of his human form. 'I'm changing back.' He thought dazedly, and as he watched his small claws turn into pale, potion-tainted fingertips, his mind reeled with sorrow: 'No. Please. Don't do this to me, I'm begging you. I'm not ready to lose 'kitty.' I don't want to let him go.'

TBC

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