That winter seemed to arrive all at once. The view outside the Minister's office window looked cool and sparkling, like a sheet of mint candy.
With a burst of green flames flaring up in the fireplace, a tall, slender man in a black traveling cloak bent smoothly and stepped out, casually brushing nonexistent ash from his shoulders.
Behind the broad desk, a man with straw-colored hair combed meticulously into place was buried in a thick stack of documents, not even looking up at the sound.
"Barty, still busy?" Snape walked to the opposite side of the desk, his tone light.
Young Barty finally lifted his head from the pile of paperwork and shot him an annoyed glare. "Thanks to you."
If not for the man in front of him stubbornly refusing to take over this mess, would he have been chained to this chair, facing endless work every single day?
"Wasn't this your own choice?" Snape said cheerfully as he pulled out a chair and sat down, deliberately exaggerating his tone.
"My suggestion back then was very clear, have Mr. Barty Crouch serve as the next Minister for Magic. If you really didn't want to..." He dragged out the words and blinked mischievously. "Isn't there still another Mr. Crouch who'd be happy to step in at any time?"
Young Barty set his quill into the inkwell with a soft clink and couldn't help glaring at him again. "You call that a choice? You're the one living the good life, traveling the world, free as a bird." The envy and resentment in his voice were practically overflowing.
"Oh, don't be mad." Snape laughed, pulling a delicately shaped teapot with a warm, glossy glaze from his pocket and gently pushing it toward him. "Look, I brought you a gift."
Young Barty picked up the teapot cautiously, sensing a faint magical fluctuation.
He examined the silver patterns winding across its surface and raised an eyebrow. "Occamy?"
"Occamy?" Young Barty repeated, still studying it carefully, and prudently refrained from lifting the lid.
"Looks like you haven't returned all your Care of Magical Creatures knowledge to Professor Kettleburn yet," Snape said, idly flipping through the files on the desk.
"These things are rare nowadays. I had to go all the way to northern India and bargain with a local priest to get it. I wouldn't part with it as a gift for just anyone..."
"Hm..." He paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on the contents of a document. "The old diehards causing trouble again?"
Young Barty nodded, a trace of weariness flashing across his face before being replaced by a mocking smile. "The new election is coming up, and they just won't behave. Going on and on about ancient traditions, wizarding purity..."
"But," he continued, pulling out that day's Daily Prophet from the bottom of the stack and flipping to the entertainment section, turning it toward Snape and pointing at an inconspicuous corner, "ever since we followed your advice and equipped the Auror Office with those 'Muggle canes,' recent 'friendly exchanges' have improved dramatically. Take a look."
In the small animated photo, Snape saw a group of elderly witches and wizards in robes, holding protest placards, but every one of them was bruised and battered, groaning and angrily shaking their fists at the camera.
The accompanying text was deliberately vague, claiming only that "a minor accident occurred during the protest," and carefully noting that none of the protesters had suffered magical injuries.
"Mm. This 'holiday gift' is quite nice. I like it." Snape nodded in satisfaction.
"Using wands on them really wouldn't be appropriate. This works much better, controlled force, clear attitude. And our current laws don't prohibit the use of 'canes' to maintain order."
Young Barty nodded in wholehearted agreement and folded the newspaper away.
"Oh, by the way, I wasn't just sightseeing on this trip," Snape changed the subject. "The invitation to the Yuhang Academy of Daoist Arts to join the revived Triwizard Tournament has been settled.
"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang both had their complaints about turning the Triwizard Tournament into a four-school event, but I've successfully persuaded Mr. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. The Ministry can formally begin preparations."
"No problem," Young Barty replied.
"We also owe quite a bit to the wizards from Yuhang Academy. Without their help, we wouldn't have resolved that nasty blood curse on Nagini. For such ancient and complex magic, they claimed it was luckily within their area of expertise, truly... Remarkable luck."
He paused, then added, "Same as always, I'll reserve five of the best seats for Professor Slughorn. He loves this sort of excitement."
At that moment, a light knock interrupted their conversation.
"Come in," Young Barty called.
The door opened, and a young witch entered with some difficulty, clutching a large cardboard box in her arms.
She had striking bubblegum-pink short hair, though perhaps because the box was so heavy, the tips were already starting to change color on their own.
"Minister, these are the latest files from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that need your review. Old Mr. Crouch asked me to deliver-"
She broke off when she noticed Snape seated to the side. "Oh! Mr. Snape, you're here too!" She tried to free one hand to greet him, and the box tipped dangerously.
"Good afternoon, Tonks," Snape turned toward her, greeting her warmly. "Just call me Uncle, like you did when you were little."
With that, he stood up to help her set the heavy box down on the desk.
But as Tonks moved toward the desk with the box, her foot somehow caught on the ornate carpet, luxurious, but slightly curled at the edges.
"Oof!"
She cried out as she lost her balance and fell flat on her back. The cardboard box flew from her arms, and the files spilled everywhere like scattered petals.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Tonks scrambled to her feet, her cheeks flushing bright red as the tips of her hair abruptly turned vivid orange. "I- I've tripped over this carpet for the fourth time already!"
Snape shrugged helplessly and exchanged a glance with Young Barty. Both of them wordlessly drew their wands and flicked them, sending the scattered documents flying neatly back into the box.
"It's fine, Tonks, it's not your fault," Young Barty said calmly, eyeing the carpet thoughtfully. "That old man sent you on purpose... He knew full well..."
He rubbed his chin and snorted softly. "All the more reason I won't approve his retirement.
"Hmm. Maybe I should transfer him to the Department of International Magical Cooperation instead. Next year's Triwizard Tournament will need someone experienced to deal with all sorts of people. Let him suffer through the diplomatic headaches."
Noticing that Tonks was still standing there nervously, fingers twisted together, the orange in her hair not yet fully faded, Snape spoke up to reassure her.
"Relax, Tonks. You've still got three whole years of Auror training ahead of you. Plenty of time to get used to the Ministry's... 'terrain.'"
Tonks nodded obediently, but her eyes kept darting toward the door, clearly eager to escape the place that had made her stumble so many times.
"Don't even think about sneaking off," Snape saw right through her and added, "Come with us to Ottery St Catchpole Village. They're definitely preparing enough food to feed an entire army of trolls."
With that, he waved her toward the fireplace. "Go on. Work never ends, there's nothing that can't wait until next year."
Tonks scratched at her color-shifting hair and had no choice but to obey. She walked to the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of glittering Floo powder from the brass jar on the mantel, and vanished into the green flames.
Young Barty gave brief work instructions to a portrait of a wizard in a curled wig on the wall. Moments later, he and Snape stepped into the fireplace one after the other.
Snape grabbed the Floo powder and tossed it into the flames. They instantly turned emerald green, flaring high.
"The Burrow!" he said clearly, stepping into the spinning fire and vanishing from sight.
A series of differently decorated fireplaces blurred past. A few seconds later, Snape stepped out of another hearth.
A wave of warmth washed over him, mixed with the scent of food, burning wood, and the noisy clamor of children.
Even after two expansions, the Burrow was still packed to the brim on Christmas Eve, filled with that distinctive cozy, bustling warmth.
Sounds came from every corner, children's laughter as they chased one another, the clatter of something being knocked over, and the rhythmic clanging of cooking from the kitchen.
A little girl with thick black hair and bright green eyes, crouched on the floor whispering secrets with a red-haired girl, was the first to notice Snape emerging from the fireplace.
Her eyes lit up, and a radiant smile bloomed across her face.
"Daddy!"
She shrieked and sprang up like a tiny cannonball, racing straight toward him.
At the same time, other children's voices rang out happily around them: "Uncle Snape!" "Uncle Crouch!"
Snape greeted the adults and children in the room, then bent down with a broad smile, scooping up the little girl who had charged at him and rubbing his slightly stubbled cheek affectionately against her soft face.
"Oh, my dear little Hailey," his voice was impossibly gentle. "How was your day today?"
Hailey pretended to be annoyed, pushing his face away with her small hands, then launched into a rapid, excited report.
"We had a Quidditch match on the hillside this morning! I was on my broom and scored the most goals! Charlie said I've got the talent to be a Seeker..." Her little face was glowing with pride.
As Snape listened attentively to Hailey's vivid account of her "heroic deeds," carrying her toward the central table in the living room, several half-grown children burst in through the front door with a bang, bringing with them a gust of cold air and the smell of earth.
They were covered in grass clippings and clutching several struggling, shrieking, mud-smeared garden gnomes.
One girl among them stood out. She had pale silver-blue eyes and waist-length, very light blond hair.
Though her face was dirty and her skirt spattered with mud, her neat, delicate hair ornaments and proper clothing showed she had been cared for with great attention.
Seeing Snape, the girl immediately flung the squealing garden gnome behind her and let out a delighted cry, skipping toward him.
Snape quickly shifted Hailey to one arm, freeing the other half of his embrace to receive her.
The girl ran up, leapt lightly on the spot, and expertly latched onto him, wrapping her muddy hands around his neck and giggling as she smeared dirt onto his face.
"Oh, my mischievous Luna." Snape paid no mind to the mud on his face. Ignoring Hailey's indignant "Daddy!" he deliberately turned his head and rubbed some of the dirt onto Hailey's clean little face as well, making Hailey yelp while Luna laughed even harder.
Snape carried the two girls to the long table, where a red-haired boy with freckles helpfully pulled out a chair for him.
"Thank you, Ron," Snape said, carefully setting the two squabbling girls onto the nearby sofa before sitting down himself.
He studied Ron for a moment, then said suddenly, "Ron, you've got something dirty on your nose."
Ron instinctively tried to dodge, but Snape caught him and wiped the tip of his nose with his thumb.
"Uncle Snape, let go," Ron wriggled free, ears turning a little red.
"Oh ho, Ron, you little rascal, got your nose in the ash again?"
Two nearly identical red-haired twins came out of the kitchen laughing, carrying plates of freshly baked, fragrant pastries.
"Shut up, Fred," Ron snapped back.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the boy setting the plates on the table said solemnly. "Honestly, Ron, as our little brother, your inability to tell us apart is rather disappointing."
Seeing Ron's expression edging toward fury, Snape intervened at just the right moment. "Ron, I received a letter from Pig last month." He winked mysteriously at Ron. "Don't worry. You'll be very satisfied with your Christmas present this year."
"Really?" Ron's attention was instantly captured, a smile tugging at his lips before faltering again.
"But... Mum says it's too dangerous... She won't agree..." Despite his words, the longing in his eyes was unmistakable. "But next year! Next year I'll be going to Hogwarts! Maybe then I can apply to join... if I have my own..."
"Uncle Snape," Fred and George immediately crowded closer, gazing at him eagerly. "What about ours?" George pushed a plate piled high with steak-and-kidney pies toward him. "Dobby just made these, eat them while they're hot, they're brilliant!"
Snape obligingly picked up a pie that was still a bit too hot, took a bite, and savored it thoughtfully. "Mm. It really is excellent. Perfectly cooked, beautifully seasoned, almost on par with Kreacher's cooking."
"Don't worry," he said, smiling at the twins' expectant looks. "When have I ever let you down? However..." He deliberately drew out the word, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "This time, there's a small gift meant for the two of you together. It suits you especially well.
"Though, because of an... incident I once experienced with Pandora many years ago, its function has been somewhat reduced, I believe it will still make your future school life far more... colorful."
"Isn't there any magic that can make time go faster?" Fred wailed, squirming restlessly in his chair. "Why isn't it tomorrow morning already?!"
"D-don't rush," Hailey said indistinctly from the sofa, her mouth full of pie, crumbs clinging to her lips. As she spoke, she grabbed another small tangerine and peeled it expertly.
"Compared to presents, I'm more excited about the Christmas feast tonight! Mum said Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley are coming too. Dudley said he's bringing a new Muggle tabletop role-playing game!"
"Yes, the feast is not to be missed."
Snape swept his gaze over the room, lavishly decorated with magical ribbons, holly, and mistletoe, listening to the carefree laughter of children and watching Percy sit stiffly upright, earnestly trying to make conversation with Young Barty.
His heart was filled with a calm, abundant warmth. Even the ugly face of the garden gnome tied to the top of the Christmas tree, glaring angrily at him, looked lively and endearing.
Outside the window, snowflakes began to drift down softly, making the warmth indoors all the more vivid.
Everyone was here.
All was finally well.