She kicked the closet door shut as she marched back to the living room, a new purpose in mind. She always had been fairly good at Transfiguration. She was able to turn a number of odds and ends into pine garlands and bows to put up. She was halfway done when she started to consider what Severus would think about this. He didn’t seem like he was the sort of person to enjoy Christmas much. And she was rather unsure about how he would react to the decorations.
But she shrugged it off, the worst that could happen was that he’d make her take them back down. She pulled a chair over to the mantle to hang up another garland. True, she could have done it with magic, but it just never seemed to hang right. And she wanted things to look perfect. Perhaps if they looked perfect Severus wouldn’t mind them so much. She hoped down from the chair and stood back to admire her work. It wasn’t much, but she figured that anything overdone would send her husband straight into one of his famous tempers.
“I wonder if I could get a Christmas tree…” she mused aloud. “Perhaps Hagrid would bring me one back if I asked…” she smiled to herself, but it was a small smile. Of course he would bring her a Christmas tree if she asked, but she had no way to ask him. She was trapped down here in the dungeons, alone… some days she felt like a prisoner. And she longed for the sunlight… She could venture out when the students were in class, but it wasn’t the same.
She wasn’t free… she wiped a tear away, “wretched hormones, you’re causing all sorts of problems with my emotions, do you know that?” she addressed the tiny life within her fondly as she rested a hand on her still flat abdomen. “A Christmas tree would be nice though… perhaps if I ask Poppy she’ll pass a message on to Hagrid for me. I’m sure Minerva would too, as long as I promised to tell her what Severus’ reaction was…” she laughed softly, “and now I’ve taken to talking myself. What will people think?” she smiled ruefully, “I’ll just blame it on you, shall I?” she addressed her stomach again, “aren’t pregnant women given leave to be just the tiniest bit mad?”
She hung one more garland and stood back to admire her work. She was pleased with herself. The few simple decorations made the room seem much more… homey… “I wonder what he would think if I were to hang some mistletoe…” a small smile played at the corners of her lips.
“He would throw it straight into the fire.”
Morgan gasped and spun to face her husband, “I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me like that!” she said in exasperation. Honestly, as soon as she was thoroughly convinced that she was completely alone… he’d be right there… she couldn’t decide if that trait was more snake-like or bat-like. She looked up at him questioningly for he was scowling. But she had learned how to determine if she was the one causing the irritation or not, and convinced that she didn’t have anything to do with it, she merely put her hands on her hips and waited.
“Albus saw fit to send us a little holiday cheer,” his lip curled up in a sneer on the last word in particular. On cue, Hagrid came through the door dragging a freshly harvested pine tree behind him. Severus looked far from pleased with the arrangement, but stepped to one side so that the towering man could drag the tree in. He watched from the sidelines while Morgan hoped back and forth from one foot to the other in excitement, her hands clasped together and eyes shining. He was struck once again by how young she truly was…
He let her direct the placing of the tree, refusing to have anything to do with the whole process. He had never understood the attraction of Christmas before. But he had never spent a Christmas with Morgan either.
He was pleased when Hagrid finally left. He didn’t like any invasion of his private quarters. He made sure that even Minerva and Albus didn’t feel completely welcome. He had given up on Poppy, she had proved to have a stubbornness that matched even his own.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Morgan turned to her husband, smiling brightly.
“Amazing,” Severus said dryly as he shrugged off his robes and unbuttoned his jacket before pouring himself a generous amount of brandy.
Morgan rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention to decorating the tree. “I’ve always loved Christmas trees,” she finally said.
“I am quite sure you have,” Severus said, still keeping a dry tone. Although he was more relaxed than he could remember being in a long time. There was something about the domesticity of watching his wife decorate a Christmas tree while the fire blazed in the hearth. His rooms, which had always been his private sanctuary, were beginning to feel like a home.
Morgan smiled, but it was a sad smile. “My mother always loved Christmas. And after… after she died… I always made sure that we had a tree at Christmas. There is really nothing of hers left now, only memories…” She hung one last transfigured ornament on the tree with a small sigh.
“Morgan…” Severus reached out for his wife and pulled her down into his lap. “I suppose that, if you absolutely must, you may bring your sister down her tomorrow.” He watched a mixture of joy and relief cross his young wife’s face, “you need only have asked.”
“I know,” Morgan looked down at her hands, “but I don’t want to be a bother.”
Severus used a single finger to tip Morgan’s face up. He looked up, and Morgan’s eyes followed his… to where he deftly held a single stem of mistletoe.
Morgan smiled, “I thought you said you would toss that into the fire.”
“I changed my mind,” he told her before he claimed her lips. It was a long time before they finally went to bed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Retching into the toilet was not how Morgan would have planned to spend her first Christmas of married life, but it was where she ended up. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to get her stomach back under control. Poppy said that the morning sickness would disappear soon, but that didn’t help how she was feeling now.
The tears turned from ones of wretchedness to ones of thanks when she felt cool fingers brush the back of her neck as they held her hair back and a strong arm wrap itself around her waist to help support her. When she had completely emptied her stomach there was a glass of water in her hand before she had a chance to ask for it.
“Stop that,” Severus commanded as he helped her to her feet and brushed the tears out of her eyes, “you look enough of a fright as it is.”
Morgan tried her best to stop the tears. Yes, her husband was glowering at her in a disapproving way and looked slightly harassed that he had been drawn out of bed to play nursemaid. But, if she looked closely, she thought she could see a bit of concern in his eyes. Concern for her. She mumbled her thanks and said that after a bath she was sure she would be a bit more acceptable.
An hour later she was feeling much better. So much better that, although she appreciated the toast and tea that Severus had set out for her, she quickly ordered a House Elf to bring her some bacon and eggs to go with it, as well as a pickle. She smiled to herself as Severus hid behind the Daily Prophet while she ate. Her recent affinity for pickles, and their presence at every meal, was starting to turn her husband’s stomach. She smiled impishly as she offered him a pickle from the jar the obliging House Elf had left. She had a feeling that if she hadn’t been pregnant she would have gotten more than an annoyed glare and snort of disgust.
“You know,” Morgan started as she drained the last of her tea, “I had planned on wrapping myself up with a big bow for you to unwrap this morning. I thought it would probably be the nicest Christmas present you had ever received. Of course, I wasn’t planning on spending my morning hanging over the toilet either…”
“Yes, that was incredibly alluring,” Severus said dryly as he set aside his paper.
Morgan stuck her tongue out at him.
“If you keep that behavior up I will tie you up myself, and I guarantee that it won’t be with a bow,” Severus raked his eyes up and down his young wife’s body. He allowed himself to smirk slightly at the way she blushed under his suggestion. As innocent as she had been when she came to their marriage bed, it had not taken too long for her to find immense pleasure between the sheets. However, she still blushed and grew flustered when any such activity was mentioned outside of their bedroom.
Severus would have been content to spend the holiday, for which he had little use, alone with his wife. But, far too soon for his tastes, his private sanctuary was invaded by yet another Gryffindor. He knew that he had promised his wife that her sister would be welcome here, if only for Christmas, but he wished he hadn’t extended that offer. Still, he remained civil to the second year student, if only by remaining silent and well supplied with brandy.
He did watch the two sisters with some interest. He saw little of Morgan in Grainne. And, while he knew that the students outside of his own House claimed that he only cared for the Slytherins, he did know all of his students fairly well. He was an excellent observer. No, the two had little in common. Morgan, although he found her incredibly young at times, had an innate sense of composure and dignity about her. It allowed her to walk into a room full of Death Eaters with her head held high. He had first been attracted to her spiritedness, which had been dampened a bit by their marriage and a sudden burst of shyness, but which was beginning to come out again in full force. He found his wife intriguing. She was such a jumbled mixture of emotions and habits.
Grainne was simply angry. Angry with her home life, angry at the institution of the school, and mostly, she was angry with him for marrying Morgan. Severus did not care how much she hated him, he was not one to be cowed by a twelve year old, he frequently made them cry. But, not Grainne. She saw him as an opponent for her sister’s affections, and she never displayed any emotion to him except for barely concealed hostility underneath an exterior of grudging respect.
Severus contributed the difference in attitudes to one sister having grown up with a mother, or at least memories of her, while the other had only an older sister who had tried to be the best mother she could at entirely too young an age.
“I’m sorry we can’t go back home for Christmas…” Morgan tried to extend at least some affection towards her father during the holidays.
“I’m not,” Grainne spat angrily, “Dad can rot in hell for all I care.”
Morgan looked down at her hands, “it is Christmas Grainne…” all she wanted was a family that actually felt like a family. One that openly loved each other… not a gathering of near strangers.
“So?” Grainne tossed her red hair back over her narrow shoulders, “it’s just one more day of the year to him. One more day to drink and remember that he only loved her, not us.”
“He does love us!” Morgan insisted. Or he did, once…
The two sisters sat in silence for awhile. Not quite looking at each other. It had not been a very pleasant holiday for either of them. Although she had tried to conceal it, although without much effort, Morgan could tell that Grainne was not happy that she was expecting. “We still have each other,” Morgan finally said. But she could tell that her younger sister was still not happy.
“I believe it is nearly time for the festivities upstairs,” Severus said pointedly as the clock chimed. He watched as Morgan reached out for Grainne, who grudgingly allowed herself to be embraced before leaving.
“I take it this has not been one of your favorite Christmases,” Severus said to his wife, making it a statement instead of a question.
Morgan mutely shrugged her shoulders and moved to stand a little closer to the fire.
“If you feel the need to cry, then by all means do so,” Severus clipped his words short. He softened his tone a bit as he saw how his wife only wrapped her arms around herself, doubtless in an effort to shield herself from anymore pain. “Come here Morgan,” while spoken in a more gentle tenor, the words were still a command instead of a request. When Morgan tried to sit next to him on the couch he took hold of her arm and pulled her down on his knee instead. One part of him, the spy, the Death Eater part, told him to keep his distance. But he was beginning to find that a remarkable thing was happening. He was starting to care for his wife, truly care. This was more than concern with her general well being, he suspected that he was possibly starting to love her. He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. “She is young, she will grow out of this stage.”
Morgan sighed, her sister’s attitude had hurt her more than she cared to admit, “I’m not so sure…”
Severus snorted at that, “I’ve seen far more children go through here and grow out of far more stages than you can imagine. Most of them are angry with the world at large at some point.” He shifted her to a slightly more comfortable position in his lap, catching a faint whiff of the perfume he had given her as she moved. The scent fit her well, it was soft and light. It had seemed an appropriate gift to him, he had learned that she could be easily overwhelmed by his gifts to her.
Morgan sighed softly as she was pulled tighter to her husband’s chest. His shirt was soft under her cheek, and she could hear the faint tick-tick-tick of the pocket watch that Albus had helped her obtain for Severus’ Christmas gift. It had pleased her more than she could say that Severus seemed to truly appreciate her gift to him. Even if that appreciate came with a full interrogation of how she had obtained it, and much assuring on her part that she had not left Hogwarts to buy it.
“It is early,” Severus’ deep voice rolled over Morgan in gentle waves, she found it comforting. It was strange, it was a voice that was most often used to instill the fear of god in students, but with her it was sensual and lulling, “but I believe the best place for you is bed.”
“Only if you come with me,” Morgan whispered the words into her husband’s shirt front, and blushed a pretty shade of pink when he scolded her for mumbling and made her repeat what she said while looking at him. It was proof of how far they had come that she could do it without tearing her eyes away from his, even if she was red.
Severus smirked, “I will happily come with you, Madam Snape. But,” he leveled her with a stern look that was usually reserved for his classroom, “only if you find that ribbon you said you were planning on wrapping yourself up in earlier.”
Morgan ducked her head as a shy smile crossed her face. “Whatever do you want it for?” she peeked up at him, her eyes large and innocent looking. It had been amazing to Morgan to discover the sort of sexual power she possessed. She found it thrilling to know that her husband, the domineering bat of the dungeons, would lavish her with attention if she gave him even the slightest bit of encouragement. She liked it.
“If you keep pretending to be so innocent, you may just get more than you bargained for,” Severus purred in her ear. “I hope you are not too tired tonight, I don’t plan on letting you sleep for a long time yet.”
~~~~~~~~~~~