Boxes of Love

By Richan

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Severus, but - if I could - I'd like to take Remus home. I only own Blythe Weasley – all sixteen-months-old bouncing baby girl full of joy and love for her godfather, Harry – daughter of Ron and Hermione from "Be You Blythe and Bonny."

AN: Insanity (as always is the case for the growing number of fics in the Trick and Treats universe (I'm on the fourth one?!)), a little mushy stuff.

Harry watched the door, trying to will it to open and reveal Severus on the other side. He knew he had left his husband a note about dinner and he was sure that the man had read it. It was Valentine's Day after all, and even if Harry tended to hate the holiday himself, he wanted to take the chance that he could show his husband just how much he loved him and not have to think of an explanation why he was getting all mushy.

Harry fingered the box he had sitting on his lap, ready to give to his husband. It had taken him almost a month tracking down some of the things that had gone into it, and he couldn't wait to see the expression on his husband's face when he opened it. Maybe even this time Severus would smile, unlike this past Christmas when Sirius and Remus had shown up just when they had gotten to opening presents and the man scowled the rest of the day, no longer caring about the amount of time Harry had given to search out the book that Severus had been longing to acquire.

No, this day was going to be different as soon as Severus walked inside the door.

He had gotten Remus to keep Sirius as far as possible from Hogwarts as he could. And Harry knew that Ron and Hermione had off-loaded their daughter on the twins, knowing that no matter how much trouble the little girl caused, it would be nowhere near the amount Fred and George would. So, Harry knew there would be no interruptions, especially as he had made Severus' mother a deal that she could haunt him for the next week if she went and bugged everyone but stayed out of their rooms.

Harry looked at the clock briefly and saw that the hand for his husband was still on 'Classroom.' It would be like his husband to be there until the last moment, trying to 'dampen the egos' of his students as he put it.

He went back to his door watching. Soon the candles floating around the room - to give a romantic but not girly smelling air to them - were giving the room a toasty feeling. Harry blinked to keep himself from falling asleep, but soon he couldn't manage to keep his eyes open.

******

Severus blinked his eyes, sure that they were still glued to the pages of the book he had been reading. Once he was able to focus, he looked around the room wondering what had woken him. His eyes traveled around until they landed on a pale ghost hovering in front of him.

If Severus had still been a child, he would have gulped when he saw the look on his mother's face.

As it was, it was enough to scare a year off his life even though his mask did not move an inch.

"What is it, Mother?" he asked, feeling slightly snarky at his work being interrupted. He had been deep in the middle of reading a discussion on whether or not it was illegal to use belladonna-based potions on muggles.

"Do you know what day it is?" the ghost of Hermione Snape asked.

"It's the fourteenth, Mother," Severus answered. Of course he knew what day it was. He wasn't stupid.

Then it hit him.

Yes, he was stupid.

Now that he remembered, he could recall getting a short note from his young husband on having dinner tonight in their rooms rather than meeting up in the Great Hall, where everyone would expect the Potions Master and the Muggle Studies Professor to eat with the rest of the school. A note that had expected him in their rooms a little less than two hours ago, now that he noticed the clock on the wall pointing out 'late for date' in big blocky (Harry) hand printed letters.

"@%&$!"

"Severus!"

The man the ghost was addressing ignored her scandalous chiding and looked over at the door that connected his classroom with first his office and then with the rooms he shared with Harry. Feeling like he was walking towards his doom, Severus slowly rose from the chair, not even noticing when Hermione Snape gave a huff and floated out towards the Slytherin dormitories. Instead, he was solely focused on grabbing the box he had found just the other day from the drawer in his desk that even Harry was forbidden from opening. He had thought that Black had taken the box, since it was supposed to have been one of Harry's Christmas presents, but of course the stupid mutt had shown up just when Severus was feeling in a good mood.

He had been quite happy to wake up and find his younger husband sound asleep, half-curled up in his arms, and his black hair even more tousled than usual. It gave him the air of what Severus would, grudgingly and only in the most desperate of situations, call an angel. The smooth pale skin had been too tempting to resist, so he had laid gentle kisses along Harry's firm jaw, making his way to the sensitive skin that lay below the younger man's ear. He had nuzzled the soft patch of skin and had gotten a sleepy moan in answer.

From the ear that had tasted quite delectable, Severus had slowly made his way down the smooth expanse of neck to the wonderfully exposed chest that made his groin tighten every time he beheld it. His husband's Quidditch training had made the muscles smooth and tight underneath the silky skin, and it always felt sinfully delicious underneath Severus' lips whenever he explored Harry's body. The younger man tended to move and shiver in the most delightful ways.

Speaking of delightful ways....

Severus shook himself of his naughty reverie and made his way into his rooms. Trust Black for taking what would have been a day for just the two of them and turn it into one of those days where one just wanted to shove the rest of the world in some black hole because you're so miserable.

He stopped when he saw the scene that greeted him.

Harry lay sprawled in his chair, head tipped in one hand as the other lay on top of a box that sat in his lap. In front of him lay a laid table, the silverware sparkling as though the house elves had known this was a special occasion. Around the younger man danced what must have been a hundred candles, their soft scent filling the air with a mixture of gardenias and vanilla. Two of Severus' favorite scents.

Not his favorite, though. That was the scent that was uniquely Harry.

Who was fast asleep, his mouth slightly open in the tiniest of frowns.

This was not boding well. No, not good. At all.

There was only one thing for it. Mentally bracing himself, Severus threw himself down at his husband's feet for some serious ('I did not need that mental image of that mutt, Black, thank you very much!' grumbled a tiny part of his mind) sucking up.

******

Harry wasn't sure what woke him from the lovely dream he'd been having, but he knew it had to do with the presence he felt against his legs. Not-quite-awake, he thought it felt familiar enough to know that it wasn't an enemy. Maybe it was Sev's mother back to bug him about the other day? He was sincerely sorry for hexing her like that, but she'd startled him so badly that it had been a purely instinctive reflex for him to pull his wand and aim.

A slim, long fingered hand rubbed lightly against his own. Hm. Felt familiar. And it definitely was solid enough not to be Hermione the First. Harry was tempted to snicker at the nickname Severus had come up for his mother when she and Hermione Weasley nee Granger had been fighting over wedding arrangements.

A soft press of lips against his forehead broke him of his thoughts.

Opening his eyes, he found warm, black ones gazing into his own. A sleepy smile broke out on his face when he saw the... dare he say almost desperation in Sev's eyes? Another couple of seconds' looking made him rethink that. This was Severus sucking up. Ooh, this was a good time to make him suffer for the stiff neck that Harry was beginning to feel. Especially if he got one of the full body massages that Severus doled out so very rarely – as in times when he was sick and not lucid enough to even enjoy the damn thing and he just wanted Harry to shut his whining.

"Sev?" Harry made sure that it came out in his sleepiest, most heartbroken voice possible. The one that had gotten him the new broom no matter that he already had a perfectly good Firebolt to zoom around on the Quidditch pitch in his free time and he felt that his husband had been disinterested, having spent an entire week in the summer – the summer when there was no one to bug them in the middle of shagging in the middle of the dungeons and not have a heart attack (excepting Minerva, who unfortunately had happened upon them that one time)! – working on a potion that Harry couldn't see a use for. It was the most dangerous weapon in his arsenal.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry rubbed his mental hands in glee. Severus had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

"Sev, I just wanted – "

He had almost gotten what he wanted.

Of course, it was just Harry's luck that someone had to go pounding on the door, along with shouting and yelling and screaming at Severus to open up.

Harry was going to have to look into getting his godfather a muzzle for his birthday.

******

Severus was undecided whether he should be happy that Harry never got his needling for something out, or to let his frustrated anger out on Black. He had tuned out said canine's ranting in favor of trying to figure out which was the lesser of two evils. Harry's wheedling usually cost a pretty knut, but, on the other hand, Black's diatribes most often ended up with Severus in pain, or looking like an idiot in front of some important person, because of *that* idiot.

For once he didn't have to shove the man out of their rooms.

Lupin's appearance in the still wide-open doorway silenced Black up faster than Severus could have whipped a laryngitis potion at the mutt. Oh. That must have been what Black had been ranting about.

As it was, both of his schooldays' tormentors never got the chance to talk some more with Harry – and was quite all right with him – because his husband hustled them out of their rooms quicker than he caught the Snitch his second game of Quidditch in his first year. (Like Severus wouldn't remember that – having gone to all the trouble to watch for the little bugger and then gotten stared at by the rest of the staff for the next month.)

Harry leaned against the back of the door, rubbing both hands on the back of his neck as if it were stiff. Severus amended that. It probably was stiffer than hell, what with him sleeping in the chair. Of course, that wouldn't have even have happened if he hadn't been such an idiot and forgetting what day it was. But it wasn't as if it was his favorite holiday – Lockhart seemed to have ruined what slight fondness he may have had for it with his dwarves and their stupid costumes.

Severus stood up and crossed the room to stand *very* close to the younger man. Just close enough for him to smell Harry's scent of the forest in the fall, all earthy like. He leaned the short distance to the succulent lips that were slightly pouting. Brushing them once, Severus pulled back just a little to look at Harry. His husband's eyes were closed in anticipation until he realized that Severus had pulled away. Then the green orbs had slowly opened into a face already flushed with desire. It was enough to make him pounce.

Well, he would have if somebody hadn't knocked on the door.

Was he never going to get any tonight? Because it seemed as if the rest of the world was conspiring against the two of them.

Severus stepped around Harry as his husband sighed in disappointment. He didn't do the same, but he most certainly and actually felt like doing so. Strange. Maybe some of the brat's habits really were wearing off on him like Dumbledore had suggested back at their wedding just less than a year ago.

Wand in hand, he opened the door, expecting to see Black once more at the door, foaming at the mouth like the rabid dog he often acted like.

Instead, he was greeted with the sight of three redheads, two of which had caused him grief over the seven years they'd had to perfect their emulation of the Marauders. And the third... he most certainly did not want to see the little girl currently wailing in the arms of Fred Weasley.

Well, that put paid to all of his plans for the evening.

"Blythe!" There went Harry, rushing over to the little girl like a proper godfather should behave.

As soon as Harry's arms were full of the squiggling sixteen-month-old girl, George thrust a full diaper bag and regular bag at Severus as the twins made a fast get-a-way.

"Damnit!" Severus shouted. "Get back here, Weasleys!"

The echoing of the nearby door to the rest of the school reverberating was the only answer he got to his command. Holding back the growl that was rising in the back of his throat, since he didn't want to be accused of trying to be Black, he turned back to his husband. Harry was wearing a strange look. It was a mix of disappointment that their entire evening was ruined and being happy that the little girl in his arms wasn't crying anymore.

Severus had to admit that his husband was a natural father. All of the anguish he had suffered at the hands of his relatives growing up had made him look at the world a little differently than the rest of his friends. Even the ones that were parents. Severus knew that the Weasleys who were parents of the little girl that was giving out half-crying, half-giggling sounds didn't understand the bond between parent and child like Harry did.

If there was one thing that Severus regretted, it was the chance for his husband to become a father.

Wait a minute.

He was a potions master, wasn't he? Or was he not? If he did end up doing this, would Harry even want the chance to become a father? He did seem most content to watch over Blythe Weasley, and occasionally some of the younger children of the staff that didn't go to Hogwarts when they came to see their parents. All of that just implied he liked being with children and didn't necessarily mean he wanted any of his own. He could even recall Harry taunting Hermione the Second about such a thing when she was almost due.

But then, that all changed the moment Severus had seen Harry holding his new goddaughter. The smile that had been on his face was one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. It was the smile that had made Severus think on the subject every once in a while when the nights were long and Harry was curled up against his side, a peaceful and content look on his face.

He had to admit to himself that he wanted to see Harry wear a smile like that more often. And he would actually put up with it as long as it made his husband happy.

******

Harry gently put the sleeping girl down in the transfigured crib that he had set next to the bed. Blythe had exhausted herself with her crying, so it hadn't taken a long time for her to fall asleep. It was just enough time for all three of them to settle on the couch, Severus putting up with the little girl in order to sit with Harry.

He had to smile at the thought of his husband. The older man tended to stay away from the younger children, often saying that he didn't want to see the start of their growing up to be the brats he had to teach. Still, he had consented to put up with Blythe once she had settled down in Harry's arms and joined him on the couch. It gave him a warm feeling in his heart. He knew that his husband wasn't the most comfortable person to be around for the rest of the world, but just the fact that he would do something to make Harry happy was enough to make him love Severus even more than he already did. They didn't need to be mushy all the time like some couples he'd seen (Ginny and Neville came to mind, as well as the other Weasleys who'd gotten married in the last year – only Ron and Hermione seemed to have escaped that curse, as Sirius had once said it).

Maybe it was because they had each seen so much destruction for them to know that real life wasn't all flowers and romance, but Harry liked to think that it had to do with they understood each other far better than the normal couple. Everyone else saw Severus as this emotional miser and who wanted to spread the non-good cheer to those around him. Only Harry, and maybe Albus, had seen that it was to keep the man from getting hurt – the concept of hurting first to keep from the same happening to you.

Harry looked around the bedroom he shared with Severus. When he had first moved in here, it had been a barren and cold room, devoid of any spark of life its owner most definitely had. It had taken a while, but Harry had slowly added things that reflected both Severus' and his own personality. It wasn't much, but now it felt like home. Even if Severus was on the other side of the school, Harry could still feel as if he was in the room with him just by looking at some of the things – and awards – his husband had collected over the years. They were the things that represented his husband as unseen by the rest of the world. In fact, Blythe was only the fifth person to have ever come into the room. Well, thing of conscious thought. Sev's mother was exactly alive anymore. And she, unfortunately, had come into the bedroom at an inopportune moment, just like the Headmaster. Well, the two of them now knew enough to not ever come into the bedroom. Yes, it was much better if they knocked for half an hour rather than barging into a room where the images they saw would be imprinted forever on the back of their eyelids (or whatever passed for them for a ghost).

Not that anything like that was going to be happening now that Blythe was sleeping in said room.

Still, Harry had one last hope for the day, now that it was nearing midnight and the end of Valentine's Day. Walking back out to their sitting room, he made sure to grab the box he had, rather impatiently, spent almost twenty minutes wrapping early in the afternoon between two of his afternoon classes. Once he was sitting next to Severus, who was staring out at something Harry couldn't see, he set the box down in his husband's lap.

"Sev."

The older man jerked out of his reverie. So, he must have been thinking pretty deeply then. Harry hoped that he hadn't disturbed the man that badly from whatever potion he had been contemplating.

He gave a small smile when his husband turned to look at him before gesturing to the box.

Severus picked it up and began his careful unwrapping. It irritated Harry that the man could take five minutes to take the paper off something, but he knew that the other man did it just to annoy him. As he was waiting for Severus to finish, he remembered that the older man had placed a gift of his own in Harry's lap, of which had been shoved onto the table next to his own when Sirius had shown up.

Harry jumped off the couch, ignoring the squawk that came from Severus as he began tipping over the spot that the younger man had just vacated. He could hear Sev grumbling under his breath, but didn't pay any attention to it like he normally did. He was much more interested in the box that sat quietly on the table.

Sitting down once more next to his husband, Harry gave a bright grin at the snarky looking grimace that crossed Severus' face. Once that was done, he tore into the wrapping paper.

Opening the box, a gasp escaped him when he saw what was inside. Looking up at Severus, he found that the older man was wearing a pleased smile, one that lighten his face up and made him look even more beautiful to Harry.

"Sev," Harry finally breathed.

"Harry." Oh. That voice even sounded pleased. Harry hoped it was because Severus really liked his present. Or maybe it was because he had pleased Harry. It didn't matter to him as long as Sev was happy.

His thoughts were interrupted by a passionate kiss. And they pretty much stayed that way for the rest of the night.

******

An odd noise woke Severus from the sound sleep he'd been having. Next to him, Harry shifted slightly before settling even deeper in his arms, and he was very tempted to ignore the racket that sounded like it was coming from their outside door.

The noise grew louder, loud enough for Severus to open his eyes. Through the top of the messy hair that his chin rested on, he could see the top of a red head peek over the side of the crib erected next to the bed. The brat was awake, but she wasn't the one who had made the noise. It even looked like she had woken up when Severus did. A quick glance at the Muggle style clock that Harry used indicated that it was four in the morning. Well, whoever it was could presently leave.

Finally, the noise stopped with Harry never waking up. A most fortuitous happening, because when Harry was woken up too early he was grouchy the rest of the day and it was so much like Severus normally was that the world couldn't handle it. Severus looked over at the little girl who was watching him with the hazel eyes she had inherited from neither parent, but from her grandmothers. Who was wide-awake and looking like going back to sleep wasn't going to be happening for quite a while.

One minute spent untangling himself from his husband, a minute later he was back in his bed with Blythe tucked in between himself and his husband. He would tolerate this, because he knew that just by being with Harry, the little girl was more likely to fall asleep that much quicker than if she was left in the crib.

His thoughts drifted back to the present that Harry had given to him. Filled with assorted potions ingredients that the stores in Diagon Alley still refused to sell to him, it was obvious that his young husband had spent quite a while gathering everything in it. He knew the younger man would have no idea what some of the ingredients could be used for, and that it was the idea that he could give his husband the things he needed that made Harry happy. There was a reason why he was the Muggle Studies professor rather than the Potions professor.

Severus knew that Harry liked his own present. And while it may have been intended as a Christmas present, he knew that his husband would be overjoyed with the prospect of visiting Godric's Hollow. Severus and Albus had spent several hours trying to get the Ministry to release the site to Harry, seeing as how he was the rightful owner and wouldn't really like the sight of the house his parents died in to become a tourist spot. Instead, the headmaster and himself had managed to get it back in Harry's name and to get the rebuilding of the house restarted.

It would also serve as their summerhouse, the Snape mansion having no positive thoughts anywhere in Severus' mind. And there was no way he would ever take Harry there when he refused to set foot in the house, since it would remind him of all the awful things that had happened to him while growing up, in much the same way as Harry would never return to Privet Drive.

Now the house in Godric's Hollow, while not at the sight of the old house itself, was still on the property. A rambling old, house it would be by the time the plans were completed, Severus could tell that Harry would love living there.

And, maybe, it might just be the right place to start a family when the time was right.

On the heels of that thought, Severus fell asleep himself.

When they woke up in the morning, Severus and Harry smiled at each other over the mop of red that rested between them.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sev. I love you."

"Love you too, Harry."

End.

Let me know what you think! Too mushy? Not enough laughs? Yes, I'm feeling a little desperate for reviews, but my ego needs feeding. It's ravenous.