"Yes, raising pets is very challenging," Snape drolly agreed. "Sometimes they think they know what's best, but with your superior experience you know perfectly well they don't--"
Somehow, Harry knew that Snape wasn't thinking of pets when he said that.
"I get it," he laughed. "Really, I do." Unable to stop himself, Harry went to the couch and wrapped the man in a big hug. Snape stiffened, seeming very surprised, but then his arms came around Harry and pulled him close.
"Ehem," Draco broke in after a moment. "I am actually waiting to open my own present from Severus, you know."
"Go ahead," Harry said, moving out of Snape's embrace. Liking the feeling that they'd passed some sort of obstacle, though, he sat down next to his father on the couch.
Next to his father. Harry sort of hugged the phrase to himself as he watched Draco pull a picture frame from a box. Just a frame... no painting or photograph within.
Unlike Harry, Draco wasn't baffled by the present. "Brilliant," he said, smiling brightly at Severus. "Let me think... it will show me what I most want to see?"
"Hold it up to a wall and find out."
When Draco did, the frame filled with a view of the meadow outside. "It's to help me endure yet more months of being confined to the dungeons," Draco surmised. "It shows whatever's at ground level on the outside of a wall."
"At times," Snape murmured. "If you concentrate, though, I think you'll find you can view any part of the grounds."
Draco's smile grew devious. "Oh, indeed. I can find out just who's kissing whom in the rose garden..."
"Knowing you as I do, Draco," Snape drawled, "I took a few precautions. The frame won't show you any people, though you may watch the giant squid to your heart's content."
"Oh, thank you, Severus," Draco returned, the words a tad sarcastic. But his smile was still just as delighted... and devious. Harry had a feeling Draco intended to tamper with the frame just as soon as he could. Snape had probably thought of that, though, so Harry wasn't too worried.
"Harry, this one is for you," Snape remarked. Now that the boy was closer, Snape summoned the present to himself and simply handed it to Harry.
"From Hermione," Harry said, reading the tag. It wasn't charmed like all the others had been, and the wrapping paper had that dull sheen that meant it had come from a Muggle factory.
"Let me guess. From Granger?... A book," Draco wryly put in.
The other boy's tone set Harry on edge. "Perhaps I should open this later," he quietly murmured to Snape. "I mean, I doubt she sent Draco anything at all, so--"
"Oh, please, I am not as immature as all that," Draco interrupted. "Open it. I'd like to see what Granger thinks you need. Because I bet you that's what she did, Harry. It would be just like her to ignore what she knows you want, in favor of what she thinks you need."
Harry had a feeling Draco was going to be right. That would be just like Hermione. Harry was just surprised that Draco knew as much. Then again, he'd been there to hear her bleating like a sheep about how she knew more than Harry did about whether Snape would make a decent father.
It was a book. Not too surprising, considering Hermione, but this wasn't just any book.
"Oh no," Harry murmured in dismay, hanging his head over the book in his lap. "Hermione...."
"May I?" Snape asked, waiting until Harry had weakly nodded to slip the book free. "Adolescent Trauma: The Road to Recovery," he read the title out loud.
"Oh, dear Merlin, it's the book, that Muggle book you bought when you wanted to make sure Harry got over Samhain!" Draco erupted. "What a completely rude present! Happy Christmas, Harry. By the way, I think you're mental and in need of some serious intervention," he said, imitating Hermione's habitual know-it-all tones. "First that Weasley tries to hex you just because you've got yourself a father at last, and now this one uses Christmas as a pretext to get in another one of her little digs about how you only like Severus because you've lost your mind? Honestly, Harry, you have the worst friends I've ever heard of, and considering I've spent over five years in Slytherin, that's really saying something!"
"Ron wasn't going to hex me," Harry said, suddenly exhausted. "He wasn't, all right? And Hermione's just trying to help. I'm positive she doesn't know how rude this present is."
"Well, when her birthday rolls around, I just hope you buy her a ten-volume edition of Brains Aren't Everything: How to Make and Keep Friends!"
"No offense," Harry had to say, "but you're hardly an expert on that topic, yourself."
"I think we're getting a bit away from the spirit of the season," Snape said before Draco could retort. "Harry. You have some other presents from your friends. Albus ported them here. Why don't you open those a bit later, though?"
Good idea, considering how Hermione's present had set Draco off. For all that though, Harry couldn't help asking, "Um... was there anything for me from, er, Ron?"
"No," Snape admitted, his eyes hooded as he studied Harry.
"Right," Harry said, ignoring the sharp twist his heart gave. He hadn't expected anything, not really. Had he? No... he guessed he hadn't.
At least Draco had the decency not to say I told you so.
"Well, that just leaves mine, I guess," Harry said, getting up to fish through the remaining presents. He spotted wizarding tags as he did so: Neville, Ginny, Colin & Dennis, Parvati... really, housemates who had never given him more than a card before were being awfully generous. He wondered if it had to do with Gryffindor solidarity, with his friends trying to help him past this rough patch with Ron.
There was also a present from Dudley, the Muggle wrapping paper featuring a homey Christmas scene with a family all gathered around a roaring fire. Harry stared at it, wondering if Dudley remembered earlier Christmases like that... or if he was saying that Harry finally had a real family, now.
More likely, Harry decided, Mrs. Figg had wrapped the present.
"Okay, here we are," he said when he spotted the paper he'd used to wrap his presents to the others. In his owl-order, he'd specified wrapping paper and ribbon, and been surprised when he'd received glossy maroon paper featuring a golden snitch madly racing all over its surface. Even stranger... when he'd cut the paper to wrap the separate gifts, the snitch had duplicated itself so that each package would have one. Most impressive of all, after he'd wrapped the boxes and added the gold ribbon, the snitch began to sometimes zoom over the ribbon, too... changing its color to crimson whenever it hovered atop gold!
The receipt that came from the shop had read, Dear Mr. Potter, We thank you for your patronage. We are pleased to provide you with complimentary one-of-a-kind wrapping paper personally charmed for you. If we can be of any assistance to you in future, please do not hesitate to owl.
How a shop all the way in London knew he played Seeker was a good question. Had the Prophet actually mentioned that? Hmm, probably, back when Harry had used his Firebolt in the First Task. Apparently the shop hadn't heard the latest, that he was off the Quidditch team these days. Or maybe they had, and they were being polite.
Harry handed a box the size of his fist to Draco, and a somewhat larger one to Snape.