In Somnis Veritas

13

Dinner with Harry was much more of a tolerable affair than the picture Severus had built up in his mind, and though he would never have admitted it out loud, he found the boy to be fairly good company when he wasn't babbling incessantly about Quidditch or snivelling into his robes like a toddler.

They had just finished eating when there was a knock at the door, and something told the potion's master he wasn't going to like what he found on the other side.

He ignored the first knock, busying himself with clearing the table with several flicks of his wand.

"There's somebody at the door," Harry said, following the second round of knocking.

"Hmm. It is usually you," he commented.

The boy laughed. "That doesn't make any sense. Shall I get it?"

"No. I will go," Snape sighed, making his way towards the door.

Opening it, he was irritated – yet not surprised – to find Albus Dumbledore standing there.

"Hello," the headmaster smiled pleasantly.

"Good evening headmaster. What can I do for you?" he asked, scarcely able to hide his annoyance.

"Forgive me Severus, I couldn't help but notice that neither you nor Harry were at dinner..." Dumbledore began. "And well... I do hope I'm not disturbing you?"

"As a matter of fact, we were just finishing dinner ourselves," Snape told him, hoping he would take the hint.

"Ah. Then it would appear that I'm just in time," the headmaster beamed, producing a plate from beneath the sleeve of his robes. "I brought mince pies!"

Harry appeared behind him before he could provide another, less subtle response.

"Hello Professor Dumbledore."

"Good evening, Harry. I trust you are enjoying your Christmas Eve?" the old man smiled.

"Yes, it's been brilliant, sir!" Harry nodded, glancing up at the potion's master and tugging the cuff of his sleeve. "Aren't you going to invite him in? It's rude to make someone stand on the doorstep, you know?"

Biting his tongue to prevent him from saying all of the things he would have liked to, Severus Snape stepped aside to allow the headmaster through.

And that was how the three of them came to be sitting at the table, eating mince pies on Christmas Eve.

Severus didn't know what was more of an annoyance – watching the brat inhale the pastry as if somebody might take it away, or catching the knowing smiles from his boss out of the corner of his eye.

"Chew this one before you swallow it, perhaps?" he suggested, as Harry reached for a second pie.

Harry flushed. "Sorry, sir. It's just... I've never had mince pies before. I always wanted to try one."

"Never had a mince pie before?" Dumbledore enquired, surprised. "I was quite sure muggles enjoyed them as much as wizards."

The boy shrugged, bowing his head and concentrating on getting the pie out of its foil case.

He hadn't said his muggle relatives didn't eat mince pies of course, but Snape knew it was unlikely that they had ever deigned to offer him one.

"Thank you for bringing them, Professor," Harry said, more softly. "It was really nice of you to do that."

"You are most welcome, Harry," Dumbledore assured him. "And I must say that I, too, have thoroughly enjoyed myself. Perhaps, I may have just started a new tradition."