The Letter

Severus Snape drummed his fingers on the desk thoughtfully, as he watched the small boy seated just across from him.

If the child was aware of the rhythmic drumming sound, he showed no signs. Instead, he remained fully focused on the piece of parchment in front of him, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth, the way it always did when he was concentrating.

It was nearly six months since he had rescued five year old Harry from the care of his aunt and uncle- if one could call it 'care' at all- and it had been no surprise to Severus that his new son was less than familiar with the idea of a letter to Father Christmas.

When Severus had first suggested it, the boy had stared at him as though he was speaking a foreign language.

The potions master had promptly launched into a full explanation of what the letter entailed, but it soon became clear that it was not the concept Harry was struggling with- it was simply the surprise of being told that he, Harry James Potter, who had never received a present in his entire life, could write a letter to Father Christmas. This, Harry had explained, was a privilege that had only been afforded to Dudley in previous years.

Now, they were sitting in the study as they often did, Severus grading his students' papers, and Harry writing his letter.

The boy seemed to be getting on just fine, Severus decided, and now the only question was how on earth he was going to get a look at the letter before Harry owled it to the North Pole. This was something the dour man had absolutely no experience of, and he was now beginning to wonder how other parents managed it.

Glancing at the boy again, Severus cleared his throat and set down his quill.

"You have been writing for quite some time," he said, his silky voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

"I'm being careful Daddy, so Father Christmas can read all my letters," Harry told him innocently, as he signed his name at the bottom of the parchment. "There. I'm finished."

"Good. Well, in that case, would you like me to check it and make sure it's legible?" Severus asked.

But Harry- the only five year old in the wizarding world who knew the meaning of the word 'legible'- shook his head.

"No thank you."

No, because that would have been far too easy. Time for Plan B.

"Well, perhaps to check your spelling then? We can't have a letter to Father Christmas with poor spelling."

"Lots of children send letters to him, I'm sure he doesn't mind if we can't spell every word," Harry told him, folding his letter in half. "Besides, everyone knows that the only person who's allowed to see my letter is Father Christmas. I'm not supposed to show it to grown ups. That's what Dudley always says."

"Indeed? But I'm sure that a child so spoiled as your pig of a cousin would be certain to have all of his spelling checked by his mother before posting such a letter?" Snape pressed, hopefully.

"Nope," Harry shook his head. "Dudley put the letter in the en-vi-lope, and then Uncle Vernon put it in the postbox for him."

"I'm sure," he responded, curtly. "Then perhaps you would like to hand that to me, so that I may owl it to Father Christmas first thing in the morning."

"No thank you," Harry said again, slipping the letter into an envelope and sealing it tightly. "I can do it Daddy, I'm a big boy now, remember?"

"Yes you are," Severus muttered, watching as Harry jumped down from his chair and trotted off in the direction of his bedroom, obviously in search of somewhere to put his letter for safe keeping until it was light enough to venture to the owlery.