It was Christmas morning, and Harry was alone.

It was somewhat strange, being all by himself in the old Black family home at this time of year. Usually, when he didn't have the kids staying with him, he spent time with the Weasley family over at the Burrow. He and Ginny had managed to make peace after the divorce, enough to allow them to be friendly to each other at Christmas and other family gatherings. But this year, James, Albus and Lily had gone on holiday with their mother and her new husband Rob to New Zealand, to visit his family. They'd met while she was covering the Quidditch World Cup, the year it was held in the Australian Outback. A fair few European teams were forced to drop out due to players suffering from severe heatstroke, despite many of the games being held in late winter to early spring. It was a brilliant tournament, with the African, South American and Australasian teams getting a chance to show their skills. Uganda triumphed over Argentina in an extremely close final, with a split snitch catch causing there to be only ten points difference in the scores. Rob was reporting for a New Zealand paper, and the pair had hit it off. They had exchanged letters for a time until one day when he turned up on her doorstep, saying that he'd moved to England to be nearer to her and hoped that she'd give him a proper chance. They'd been inseparable ever since, finally marrying less than a year ago in a beautiful ceremony that thankfully hadn't been infested with reporters (much like their wedding had been). When Ginny had come to him about the holiday, Harry couldn't help but give the go-ahead. Lily had been writing to her new kiwi cousins for months, and Al would undoubtedly enjoy the change of scenery as a break from studying for his NEWTs. James, he suspected, would appreciate the opportunity to relax and meet new people. Harry only hoped he wouldn't bring home news of a kiwi girlfriend, or worse, decide never to come back. Reports had indicated that they were having a blast so far. Only Al had gotten sunburnt, which James had ribbed him mercilessly for, but that had been quickly remedied with a potion. They were all happy, even if Harry was not.

The house was eerily quiet with no-one else around. He hadn't gotten around to decorating. With the kids away and his husband being both away and not the most festive of individuals, Harry hadn't seen the point. Severus was at a weeklong potions symposium in the United States. He was presenting his latest inventions when the Convention Centre had been snowed in. Under normal circumstances, it would have been easy for the various wizarding folk to apparate or portkey away, but there had been issues at the International Portkey Office, thus, unfortunately, imprisoning their many overseas guests within their hotel rooms. Severus had managed to get a message to Harry before the Floo network was cut off but, with the progression of the storm, he wasn't expected to return until after Christmas. Thus, Harry found himself wandering an empty house, feeling very sorry for himself.

It wasn't as if he hadn't received invitations to spend Christmas elsewhere. Hermione had made a point to invite both him and Severus for the Christmas Day luncheon, on Molly's behalf, insisting that regardless that they split, Harry was still a Weasley and that he was welcome at the Burrow at any time, whether his children were there or not. They'd also received their yearly invitations to the Christmas Feast at Hogwarts. Severus went there most years while Harry was spending time with his children, but Harry often went up to the castle on Boxing Day. Minerva was always pleased to see him whenever they went. Harry had passed on their apologies long before as, due to the symposium, as they'd been planning on a quiet Christmas at home, but after receiving the snowstorm message, he'd never thought to take up the Headmistress' invitation. He was regretting that now.

He'd even tried to work, to pass the time. However, when he'd gone into the office to catch up on his paperwork. He'd found a spotless desk and an aggravated assistant, who had promptly sent him home again. "If you don't go home, sir," he'd insisted fervently, "I don't go home either. And my girlfriend is rather insistent that we actually spend all of Christmas together this year. Go spend some time with your loved ones so I can spend time with mine." And with that, he'd been shoved into the fireplace with a far too cheerful Merry Christmas and had spun home. His grand distraction had only lasted half an hour before he'd had to face the facts. He was alone at Christmas, for the first time in years, and there was next to nothing he could do to remedy that fact.

It was strange, being alone. Ever since Harry had turned eleven, his Christmases had been busy and fun, either at Hogwarts, the Burrow or here, at Grimmauld Place. The exception to that rule had, of course, been that year when they'd been on the run, but he'd been with Hermione and they'd certainly been busy. Trying to escape being killed by the snake-familiar of Voldemort who had been disguised as Bathilda Bagshot, having his wand accidentally broken and barely getting away without being bitten or splinched had made for a memorable evening. The fact that he was later visited by Severus' patronus, leading him both the Sword of Gryffindor and Ron, truly cemented that Christmas in his memory. No, the last Christmas he'd had where he been alone like this had been at the Dursleys, before he'd discovered that magic was real. Years of sitting inside his cupboard, listening to the happy celebrations going on out in the sitting room. Occasionally, he had received presents, but they had been things like a coat hanger or a pair of holey socks. Nothing like what Dudley received (and gloated about for weeks). He was fortunate that the Dursleys always kept their home so warm, or else he might have had greater troubles than being stuck alone under the stairs.

"Moping, Potter? Surely you are capable of keeping yourself entertained for a couple of days without spiralling into a depression, I would have thought. Where is your Gryffindor bravery?"

It took a moment for the words to sink in as he blinked up at his unexpected visitor. "Severus?"

The older man quirked an eyebrow. "Who else would it be? You've warded everyone else out of the property, I see."

It felt like his brain was moving at half speed as he took in the dark robes, with a hint of soot near the hem, the dark hair and impressive nose of his husband. A hint of a frown was beginning to pucker his forehead as everything finally clicked into place. His eyes lit up, and a broad grin split Harry's face in two as he crossed the room in a few short strides. He threw his arms around his husband's neck, pressing himself close, as he leant up to explore his husband's mouth. Severus promptly reciprocated, cupping Harry's arse through his jeans and pulling him firmly against him. When they finally parted for air, Harry buried his face into Severus' robes, humming contentedly.

"Now that's more like the welcome home I was anticipating."

Harry could feel the vibrations better than he could understand the words, with his face pushed into Severus' chest as it was, but he hummed in the affirmative anyway. It had been at least ten days since he'd last held his husband and he had every intention to enjoy every last moment of it.

"How'd you manage to get home so soon? Weren't you snowed in?"

Severus' hands slid teasingly up Harry's hips and under his latest Christmas jumper to stroke his back. "I managed to floo south, to where the storm hadn't hit yet when the network temporarily reopened. It took a few hops, but I eventually picked up a portkey across the Atlantic and arrived in the Ministry a few hours ago."

Harry grinned and tilted his face up to receive another kiss. "Best Christmas present ever. Merry Christmas love."

"Merry Christmas Harry."