Vocal Benefaction

December 24th

"Damnit, Hermione! I'm trying, OK? But you know I'm pants at potions!"

"Well, then listen to me for once! If you add the powdered bicorn horn to the cauldron now, with the flame that high, you'll ruin it. This is already your third attempt, Harry, and if you want this done in time for your visit with Severus this afternoon, you're going to have to pay attention to what you're doing!" Hermione scolded.

It was half past seven, Christmas Eve morning. Harry and Hermione were in the former's office, hovering over his desk which had been divested of its usual clutter in the interest of becoming a makeshift potions lab. Hermione had suggested that he brew the potion in the students' potion lab in the dungeons, but Harry had refused. He knew the Headmaster frequented the lab on weekends, and he didn't want to risk being caught.

As Hermione so graciously reminded him, this was his third attempt at brewing the Excoriation Elixir. The first was a complete failure. Harry had forgotten to add the Flobberworm Mucous before the Knotgrass, a step that the instructions had clearly stated was essential. Upon realizing his mistake, he added it as an afterthought. The resultant explosion was more impressive than the ones Neville used to produce back in first year. Fortunately, Harry's quick reflexes enabled him to produce a shield charm large enough to encompass both he and Hermione so that neither of them were injured. The cauldron, however, was not so lucky. Harry spent the next thirty minutes spelling the melted pewter off his desk.

It took him another twenty minutes to locate his second cauldron, a large brass one Severus had bought him for Christmas four years ago. It was a clever gag gift, one that had caused both of them to double over with laughter, but Harry was certain the man had never imagined it would be put to good use. After littering his office floor with almost the entire contents of his storage cabinet, he found the elusive object at the very bottom of the massive pile of junk, wedged between on old broom servicing kit Hermione had given him ages ago and ironically, a self-help book on how to de-clutter your workspace, the latter prompting an impish snicker from her.

Harry's second attempt to brew the potion went much smoother, until he added the second to last ingredient: minced dandelion roots. In his impatient haste, he had thrown the roots in without so much as running his knife through them. No explosion this time, but the foul smell that issued from the cauldron following his error was enough to send both of them running out into the hall with their hands covering their noses, Hermione trying hard not to retch in her hand.

Throughout the duration of this latest trial, she stayed close by his side, commenting on every step and harping on him as if he were an incompetent schoolboy. As irritating as this was, Harry knew it was necessary. He couldn't blow this. This potion was too important to him.

Severus was too important to him.

"Alright, Hermione. I lowered the flame. Is it safe to add the bicorn horn yet?"

"Y-y-yes, yes… it's good now."

As soon as the fine powder hit the simmering liquid, its pale aqua color turned to a brilliant shade of emerald green, a thin sheen of opalescence dancing on its surface.

"Perfect!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry sagged in relief, feeling the tight knot inside his chest starting to loosen. He looked over at Hermione and couldn't help but smile when he noticed her ecstatic grin. For someone who was originally opposed to the idea of utilizing the Dark Arts for any means, she now showed a surprising amount of delight in their success. Although, Harry reminded himself, the Excoriation Elixir alone was not Dark; it was the Anguis spell he had yet to cast that was worthy of that iniquitous distinction.

"Well, here goes nothing," he announced. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, raised his phoenix wand over the bubbling virescent liquid then hissed the required sibilation.

"Haarrrussth Ssshayhetha"

At once, the room was suffused with an eerie green glow, forcing both of them to squeeze their eyes shut to block out the dazzling light. When Harry opened his eyes and glanced down into the cauldron, he saw that the liquid had changed once more. The color was darker now, more of a greenish-black, and its iridescent luster had vanished.

"I did it! Hermione… I did it!"

Harry turned to look at her, expecting to see another beaming smile. He was startled to notice an expression of mild concern on her face instead.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Do you… do you feel alright, Harry?"

"Huh? Yeah… I feel great, actually. Why wouldn't I?" he asked, confused by her sudden consternation.

"Well, the book seemed to imply that this might take a lot out of you. I mean, it's supposed to take a good bit of power to cast that spell, Harry. It must, in order to strip you of your ability to speak Parseltongue."

"Oh, shit! I completely forgot about that!"

"What? How could you forget–?"

"Excuse me, Hermione, but I was concentrating on my real reason for doing this! To cure Severus! That's what's most important to me!" Harry snapped, then felt badly for it. "Sorry. I shouldn't have barked at you like that. I… I honestly don't know why I've been so edgy lately. I've just been so focused on doing this for him, that I haven't been able to think clearly about anything else. God, I haven't been this tense and distracted since the war!"

"Harry… do two things for me, alright?" Hermione interrupted his rant, reaching over to grab both of his hands. She laced their fingers together and pulled him closer to her, gripping his hands tightly. "First, say something in Parseltongue."

Harry honored her request. Not long after, his office was filled with the sounds of Hermione's hysterical laughter as his attempt to speak the sacred language of the Anguis came out sounding more like the rapid leak of air from a released balloon than the hissing of a snake. Even he, who at one time couldn't distinguish English from Parseltongue, could tell the difference.

"It's gone! I can't believe it's really gone!" He stared at her, wide eyed in wonder.

With her eyes sparkling with mirthful tears, Hermione threw her arms around him in an instant, pulling him into a warm embrace. Harry returned her hug in earnest, feeling immensely grateful that she was here for him. She was always here for him – Dark Arts or not. Being married to Ron had not changed that one bit.

When they finally broke apart, he could see the emergence of new tears pooling in her eyes. She sniffed and gave a sheepish giggle while she wiped them away with the sleeve of her jumper.

Harry leaned back on the corner of his desk, then remembered that she had yet to finish her request of him.

"Hermione? What was the second thing?"

"Huh?"

"You said Harry... do two things for me. Well, what was the second?"

She smiled. It was a playful grin, full of mischief and crafty astuteness. Harry narrowed his eyes, watching as she attempted to curtail her wily demeanor. After a moment, she cleared her throat, as if preparing to give a speech of great import, then completed her earlier plea.

"Tell him how you feel."

"What? Hermione! I told you... we're just–"

"Friends. Yes, I know. Harry, do you remember how frantic I was last year when Ron was injured during that Auror raid? Remember how edgy, how unfocused, how completely consumed I was about it? How I couldn't even think about anything else but his recovery? All I could do was try to think up ways to help him heal faster... anything to make him feel better... to ease his pain."

Harry swallowed hard, sudden weakness assailing him. He knew exactly where she was going with this analogy and with each word she spoke, his heartbeat quickened. When she paused and looked at him, he nodded, feeling his throat tighten and constrict from some unknown emotion that seemed to be lodged there.

"Harry... I was acting like that because I love Ron. I love him with all my heart. And when he's hurting or suffering, I can't even think straight. When he's in need of me, I go to him without thought or debate. When I am with him, Harry, I am happy. Truly happy. Happier than I could ever put into words for you. And if he lost his voice because some giant snake attacked him, and the only way I could help him get his voice back would be to cast a Dark Spell... I would do it. In a heartbeat."

Harry tried to tell her he understood, that her words had reached him, but he suddenly felt as mute as Severus, his every attempt to speak failing before his voice could manage a sound.

"So tell him, Harry. Tell him how you feel."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Severus, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Albus," Severus wrote.

"Nothing? You've done nothing these last twenty minutes but stare at that potion vial. Forgive me, my dear boy, but it is rather obvious that something is troubling you."

Severus sighed deeply, then turned in his chair to face the elaborate gold frame and its intrusive occupant, resigned to deal with this sooner rather than later.

"This is the potion that will repair the damage to my vocal chords, a remarkably easy one to brew once I located the Chimera Blood. I am resigned to take it... because it is the only way I am able to complete Harry's potion," he wrote, then paused to consider his next words. He winced when he noticed the faint tremble to the fingers gripping his wand.

"I am only hesitating because I am attempting to decide whether I should reveal this impending development, or whether I should keep it to myself."

Albus remained quiet, eyes lowered as one long-fingered hand came up to stroke his beard. After a moment of deliberation, he lifted his gaze, pinning Severus with a penetrating look.

"Severus, please listen to me. I know what it is that you fear, child, and I understand that fear."

"You do NOT! How could you?" Severus wrote brusquely, his features twisted in an angry scowl as his wand sliced through the air.

"You're worried that when you speak, Harry will not hear you, but rather Professor Snape... the man who belittled him and taunted him at every opportunity... the man who wounded him with words sharper than any blade. You're terrified that the return of your voice might mean the loss of the man you love."

Severus jumped up from his chair so fast that it toppled over and fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Forgetting himself completely, so consumed with rage at the old man for this latest presumption, he opened his mouth to scream, to argue, but nothing came out but a swift exhalation. Dark eyes blazing with vexation, his heart pounding in his chest, Severus snatched the vial off his desk, pulled off the stopper with trembling fingers then swallowed its contents in one gulp.

Immediately, he felt a searing pain in his throat and dropped the empty vial. Wrapping his hands around his neck to try and ease the stabbing ache, Severus swallowed, then coughed when he felt the presence of a warm, viscous liquid coating his larynx. Blood, he thought. Again he gagged and coughed, then stumbled to his desk to pull out a handkerchief from one of his drawers. He wiped the gathering wetness from his lips and glanced down to see the brilliant smear of crimson streaked across the white fabric.

"Severus! Are you alright? Should I visit one of the portraits in the Hospital Wing and summon Poppy?"

"No..." came a hoarse whisper, faint, barely audible, but absolutely and gloriously vocal.

Severus blinked at Albus, stunned at hearing his own voice after six years of forced reticence.

"I... I... can... speak..." he rasped, his throat burning with each word spoken. The pain was intense, but he could not help the uncharacteristic smile that stretched across his face. He looked up to see a similar grin of contentment adorning Albus' visage.

"I might suggest letting Poppy examine your throat," Albus said when Severus once again wiped the excess blood from his lips.

"No, Albus. I'll be fine," he answered, wincing from the pain. "Besides, I have another potion to prepare."

He was halfway out the door when the elderly wizard called out to him, "Severus!"

Turning, Severus took a few steps back into his office, awaiting what was sure to be another irksome, life-altering directive.

"Don't keep this development from Harry, Severus. His feelings for you will not change simply because you are no longer mute."

"You... you cannot know that for certain."

"I do know that, Severus. I do. I have watched the two of you for the last six years. I have seen you both learn to trust each other and find joy in each other's companionship and friendship. And I've witnessed that friendship deepen into something much stronger, much more meaningful."

He paused to fix the current Headmaster with an all knowing look, the twinkle in those wily, blue eyes aglow with delight.

"Severus, you're in love with Harry."

"Albus!"

"And he loves you."

"ALBUS! Damnit, old man... it hurts to yell."

"Then don't, my boy."

With that, Albus' wide grin softened and his twinkling blue eyes vanished under heavily lined lids, the soft sounds of deep breathing and muffled snores permeating the room as the former Headmaster fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

A knock at the door to his personal quarters startled Severus. His eyes snapped up to the clock on his mantel, hardly believing that it was after three already.

He had spent the last two hours feverishly cleaning his quarters and decorating the small Fraser Fir that Hagrid had dropped off just after noon. Severus did not own any ornaments, and his attempt to transfigure several empty potion vials into multi-colored baubles resulted in the entire tree looking like a cheap, plastic, dime store tree covered in gimcracks. Swallowing his pride, he had borrowed some ornaments from Minerva, relieved that they weren't all tartan-trimmed.

After that, he'd spent an extra long time in the shower. He told himself that it was necessary for the hot water to relax his sore neck muscles. The intense burning he had experienced in his throat earlier that morning had all but disappeared now, but the muscles surrounding his voice box were very tender after suddenly being utilized following so many years of dormancy.

Deep down, however, Severus knew that the real reason he had opted for a prolonged shower was so that he could tend to his hair. Harry's potion was immensely complicated and took Severus all morning to complete. It had also given off a copious amount of putrid-smelling fumes midway through the first phase of brewing, and Severus was certain his hair had retained the foul scent.

Another knock, then a hesitant voice called out, "Severus? May I come in?"

With a cursory flick of his ebony wand, Severus spelled the door open, smiling as Harry greeted him with wide green eyes that immediately focused on the Christmas tree in the corner of the sitting room.

"Wow, Severus! That looks great! I didn't realize you were… um… into decorating for Christmas."

Severus approached Harry, his right hand reaching out to touch Harry's arm. After pushing up the sleeve of his jumper enough to encircle the wrist with his slender fingers, he answered Harry through their mind link.

"I don't usually decorate. I suppose I thought I'd do something… different this year. Thank you for meeting me here instead of my office."

"Sure. No problem," Harry answered, his eyes seeking those dark orbs as he replied, gently coaxing his words deeper into Severus' mind through their open connection. "Albus giving you fits again?"

"Yes. The old man is worse than ever. His death has done nothing to inhibit his propensity for interfering in other people's lives," Severus answered, his lips curving into a slight smile. "Why don't you go sit on the settee, Harry. I'll join you in a just a few minutes with our tea."

He removed his hand from Harry's arm, fingers brushing against the warm, sensitive skin of Harry's inner wrist as they withdrew. Severus decided that he would miss their cerebral interaction very much. Early on, he and Harry had determined that physical touch enhanced their connection, making it easier to communicate through their channel. Severus suspected that touch was no longer needed, as their connection had become very strong over the years. He was fairly certain Harry was aware of this too, but neither one of them seemed willing to forego that step.

It was a cause for hope, even if he didn't want to admit it as such.

After entering his kitchen and putting on some water for tea, Severus took a deep breath to calm his escalating apprehension. He was not nervous about giving Harry his gift. No, he was quite eager to see the joy in the young man's eyes when he realized that he would no longer be condemned to speak the language of Slytherin's heir.

What terrified him was the very idea of telling Harry that he had been cured, that he could once again use his voice, a voice that had always been Severus' most effective and compelling tool to unfairly deflect his own emotional pain and bitterness onto others. This was the very same voice that had insisted with cold, biting precision that Harry was just like his arrogant, bullying father; a voice that had announced to everyone within earshot that Harry Potter was nothing but an impudent, lazy, disrespectful brat.

Severus was sickened by his past actions. Thinking about them made his heart ache with regret. He was ashamed of every vicious word that he had ever uttered about Harry, every awful, untrue label he had attached to him.

Yet somehow, Harry had been able to see past all that and forgive Severus. He'd told him this more than once, insisting that Severus' cruel treatment of him didn't matter to him anymore, that he only cared about their current friendship. But would he be so forgiving if he were to hear that cold voice again? Would he be able to get past the memory of all the pain inflicted by that sharp, ruthless tongue? Would Harry recoil and withdraw from him when that very same voice was used to form the words their owner so longed to say to him?

This was the real reason Severus had resisted a cure for so long, why his attempts to find it – as Albus had said – were only ever half-hearted. That meddlesome old man was once again spot on with his assumption, blast him!

"Severus?!" Harry called from the sitting room, yanking him from his distressing rumination.

Severus shook his head to clear it, then looked down to see his tea kettle rapidly boiling over, the whistle blaring. With a flick of his wand, he levitated it from the flame and dropped it into the sink.

"Here, let me help you…" Harry urged. He had rushed into the kitchen, his wand pointed at the still bubbling liquid in the sink. "Rigentibus!" he exclaimed. At once, the scalding water cooled and the angry boil abated.

Severus felt rather foolish as he raised his own wand and non-verbally cast a cleaning charm to rid his kitchen of the spilt water. Harry helped, casting a drying charm to aid in the process.

Severus started when he felt Harry's fingertips brushing against the palm of his left hand.

"What's wrong, Severus? You're not usually so… distracted."

He turned toward Harry, seeing the glint of concern in those vivid emerald eyes. Severus' fingers closed around Harry's caressing hand, his thumb sweeping along the skin on the back of his hand as he answered.

"I suppose I'm just a bit anxious to give you your Christmas present," he replied, forcing back his unease and gifting Harry with a small smile.

"Brilliant! I'm excited to give you yours too," Harry responded. "Come on… let's go into the sitting room and get to it, then. I'm not really in the mood for tea anyway."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Harry's heart hammered in his chest as he led Severus back to the sitting room. He was becoming more and more eager with each passing second. His excitement was so acute that by the time they sat down on the same leather settee and turned to face one another, he could scarcely breathe.

"I would like to give you your gift first, if that is alright with you," Severus announced.

"What? No… I was hoping I could give you my present first!" Harry countered, feeling a bit mortified upon realizing his response made him sound like an impatient child.

Severus gave him an amused grin, then spoke once again through their link, "Perhaps we can compromise. Shall we open them at the same time?"

Harry nodded, swallowing hard. He was so nervous now that he was not quite able to return Severus' smile as he passed his neatly wrapped package to him with hands that shook a little and accepted Severus' equally well-decorated offering.

Excitement flooded Harry. This was the moment he had been waiting for, when he would finally be able to hear Severus' voice again. Once more, he found himself unable to take a decent breath, let alone still his quivering fingers as they attempted to untie the bright red bow and tear off the gold paper. His eyes kept darting over to Severus as the older man unwrapped Harry's gift with deliberate precision.

As soon as Harry opened his own though, he was distracted by its contents. He peered into the box and noticed a potion vial very similar to the one he'd filled with Severus' potion just hours ago. This potion looked different though. It was a deep, rich burgundy color, almost the color of blood.

Picking up the vial, Harry turned it over in his hand several times, studying its thickness and the way it coated the insides of the glass, trying to decipher exactly what potion Severus had made for him.

"It's a Lingua Remotionem Potion, Harry," Severus explained. "It will cure you of your ability to speak Parseltongue."

Harry stared at the dark red vial clutched in his hand, sudden weakness assailing him. He looked up, seeking out that dark gaze. His breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to flood with a torrent of emotions as those ebony eyes, so filled with affection, locked with his own.

"Oh… Oh my God! Severus, I…"

Harry couldn't say another word, even telepathically. He was so overwhelmed, so moved by Severus' gift. In the back of his mind it registered to him that, of course, the potion was not actually needed since he had rid himself of the cursed language earlier this morning, but he didn't care. This was the most thoughtful, the most incredible, the most heartfelt gift anyone had ever given him.

Overcome with emotion, Harry wrapped his arms around Severus' neck and pulled him close. His eyes fluttered shut and his heartbeat quickened when Severus tightened their embrace, those long, lean arms encircling his back, gripping him, holding him flush against his own body for the very first time.

"Thank you… so much," Harry whispered into Severus' ear, lips brushing the warm skin. "Severus… I… "

He pulled away and their eyes met again. His breath hitched as he looked into those dark, cavernous depths. There was an intense, blazing look in them now that Harry had never seen before, and he suddenly found himself unable to tear his gaze away. His own emotions stirred restlessly inside him, impatient, yearning to be acknowledged. His whole body shook with the effort to hold them in.

Hermione's right. Oh God… I love him. I love him so much.

So lost in the intensity of his own emotions, Harry hadn't even realized there were tears falling from his eyes until Severus began to wipe them away with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned into the soft touch, his eyes slowly closing again as he concentrated on the exquisite feel of those gentle fingers that were now lingering, caressing his cheeks with slow, tentative touches. He could feel his own shuddering breaths mingling with Severus' and he opened his eyes… suddenly remembering…

"Severus, you haven't opened your gift yet," Harry said, speaking his words through their link again. He closed his hands over Severus' wrists and lowered them, wrapping those long fingers around his partially opened package.

Harry watched Severus remove the lid to the box with bated breath, his heart thundering against his rib cage in anticipation. Those elegant fingers closed around the small glass vial and raised it, dark eyes narrowing in deliberation as their owner studied the elusive contents.

"What is this?" Severus asked, his face displaying a rare expression of bafflement.

"It's a magically enhanced Excoriation Elixir," Harry answered, deliberately using his voice this time in the hopes that Severus would soon be doing the same.

"Magically enhanced? I don't understand…"

"I found a book about Anguis Magic. The book included information about a spell, called the Ultimum Panacis Spell, that when cast during the final brewing stage of an Excoriation Elixir, would strengthen the potion…. so much that the potion would be powerful enough to cure any physical ailment."

Severus' ebony eyes widened, swift moisture gathering at their corners as he continued to stare at Harry.

"I had to use Parseltongue to cast the spell, and when I did, the intensity of the spell actually destroyed my ability to speak Parseltongue… permanently. I'm… sorry, Severus… I know that kind of ruins your gift. But it worked! It worked, Severus! This potion will heal your vocal chords. You'll be able to speak again!"

"You… you would actually… want… to hear my voice again? You wouldn't be… repulsed?" Severus asked, and even through the link, Harry could sense the deep anxiety and absolute fear behind his questions.

"Repulsed?! Severus… how could you ever think…?"

"My voice was used to say terrible, hateful things to you, Harry. I've wielded it like a weapon with the sole purpose of causing you pain and humiliation. So many cruel, cutting words… so many unforgivable comments… I… I cannot fathom why you would ever want to hear it again."

"But Severus, that's exactly why I do want to hear your voice again! I want to hear your voice now… now that all that hate and anger and misunderstanding is behind us... now that you've become so important to me. And I don't just want to hear you, Severus, I need to hear you! I need to hear you say my name, 'Harry'. I've never heard you call me that before. I want that so badly. And I want to hear what you'll say when I finally tell you… when I tell you how much I… how much I love you."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

At Harry's words, Severus drew in a sharp breath. He stared at Harry, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing, barely able to breathe when he realized all his worries and fears were unfounded. Harry did want to hear his voice again... and... and better yet, he loved him...

It was as though an eruption of pent up longing and ache surged through his entire body. With his heart pounding away and his body trembling, he looked even deeper into those shimmering pools of green, seeking truth, needing assurance. The intense look of raw, undisguised yearning and hope and adoration he found within their depths rendered him breathless once again. Without any further thought or reflection, without needing to analyze or consider, Severus knew without a doubt that he could no longer hold back the love he'd kept hidden and locked away inside his heart for so long.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Harry only had a split second to be stunned by his own daring before Severus' arms were around him again. He felt as though his heart was soaring as those arms tightened their embrace once more, holding him impossibly close. New tears gathered in the corners of Harry's eyes, but he paid them no mind when he felt the gentle caress of soft lips brushing against his jaw, then across the damp skin of one cheek. When those soft lips reached Harry's own, they lingered there, hovering just above them, barely touching his skin while warm, shaky breaths ghosted over his parted lips.

Harry opened his eyes, needing to see those soulful depths, wanting some visual confirmation that this was really happening, that this wasn't just a dream or a figment of his imagination. After a moment, he closed them again and edged forward, pressing his trembling lips to Severus' at long last.

It was like an explosion of mind and body.

Harry could barely breathe when those lips touched his own. His heart hammered madly, or maybe it was Severus'; he couldn't be sure. He was just so lost…. lost in the exquisite feeling of Severus holding him… touching him… kissing him.

Severus pushed forward, deepening their kiss, devouring Harry with voracious lips, and a strong, eager tongue that plunged into his mouth with passionate vigor. That tongue explored every recess of Harry's willing mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue and swirling around it. Severus' hands clutched the sides of Harry's face, keeping him pressed firmly to him while he continued to ravage him with an insatiable intensity.

Harry's whole body shook and pulsed with need, waves of pleasure coursing though him, igniting a burning flame of desire he had never before felt, had not even imagined he could feel. The ecstatic sensations prompted Harry to grip Severus even tighter, pulling him even closer. His hands soon found their way into those silken locks of black hair, his fingers eagerly twisting around the soft, fragrant strands.

Mmmm... yes… his hair IS soft… so soft...

A low, growl-like moan issued from deep in Severus' throat. The guttural sound vibrated against Harry's wet lips just as he pulled away from their heated kiss to catch his breath.

Wait… What was that? Did he… did he just make a noise? Did he just use his voice?!

"Severus! Your voice! What...?" Harry stared at Severus, watching with increasing astonishment as those lips stretched into a nervous grin.

Severus' hands loosened their tight grip on the sides of his face, but they remained there, holding him tenderly then drawing him closer. When his lips were just an inch from Harry's, he spoke.

"Harry… I love you, too… with all my heart."

"Oh my God… Oh, Severus!"

The kiss that followed was slower and sweeter than the one that preceded it. Each unhurried brush of Severus' lips against his own sent Harry soaring, every slow, deliberate caress filling him with overwhelming emotion. Each warm, needy breath seemed to deepen this exquisite, beautiful feeling taking over his heart.

Never before had Harry felt so cared for, so trusted, so wanted… so loved.

When their slow, passionate kiss ended and at last they pulled apart, Harry couldn't help but ask the question that was burning in his mind.

"Severus, your voice... how? When?"

Severus smiled, then lowered his gaze to the potion he'd given Harry, dark eyes lingering there for just a moment before lifting to meet those shimmering green orbs. There was a knowing glint of wisdom radiating from those obsidian depths now, one that spoke of deep enlightenment and understanding.

"The Lingua Remotionem Potion requires three spells to be cast during the first brewing stage," Severus explained. "Spells that must be cast verbally."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the last few words, understanding coming to him.

"I brewed another potion to restore my voice so that I would be able to properly brew your potion," Severus finished.

"You did it for me," Harry whispered, his throat suddenly tight, constricted by a strong surge of emotion. He realized Severus must have found the same potion he and Hermione had, the one utilizing Chimera blood. He would have to ask Severus where he had found that rare substance, but for now...

"You healed the damage to your vocal chords... even though you thought I wouldn't want to hear your voice again," Harry could barely choke the words past his tight throat. "But you did it anyway... for me."

Severus nodded, then lifted his hand to Harry's face, placing it gently on his cheek. His fingertips slid in between strands of raven hair as his thumb swept across one cheek, wiping away a lone, wayward tear from the warm skin. Drawing nearer, he pressed his lips to Harry's again, placing a tender kiss there.

"Yes, Harry, and you cast a Dark spell using Parseltongue, despite your hatred for it, so that you could brew this elixir for me."

Harry tore his gaze away from Severus, settling it instead on the two potion vials lying forgotten in their gift boxes. The idea that they were both now utterly worthless crossed his mind at the same instant he heard a chuckle. Severus had come to the same conclusion he had.

"What should we do with them?" Severus asked after a moment.

"Let's just… put them away… keep them for a while," Harry suggested, his eyes returning to Severus' once more. "After all, they're a bit too nice to use at present… don't you think?"

Harry's playful grin was mirrored by a mischievous one on Severus' face. In one swift move, Severus grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled him back into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss just below his ear as he whispered, "Don't even think about asking me to cook you chops, Harry!"

The room was filled with their avid laughter. Harry reveled in the sound of both their voices, resonating loudly, permeating the space with joy and exuberance, celebrating the fact that their love for each other was now known and returned. When their spirited laughter diminished, Harry once again placed a loving kiss to Severus' smirking lips.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," he whispered, his lips still pressed against those of the man he loved.

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

Though the words were spoken in barely more than a whisper, Harry relished their dark, silky tone. And as that rich baritone timbre flitted across his lips, suffusing his mind and heart and spirit with warmth, the true significance behind this precious gift became clear to him at last...

Their gifts to each other may have started out as meaningful vocal benefactions, but built upon the strong foundation of friendship and respect over the past six years, they had evolved into offerings of trust, faith, sacrifice and love.

Especially love.

Yes, Harry thought as he snuggled closer into Severus' tight embrace, this truly would be a Happy Christmas.

The End

A/N: I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed this Christmas story. As I noted in the beginning of the first chapter, it was inspired by a lovely tale called 'The Gift of the Magi' by O. Henry. If you have never read it, I highly recommend that you do so. Incidentally, if you have read 'The Gift of the Magi', Severus' line about cooking chops will make a lot more sense to you, as will Harry's preceding comments about their gifts. Those remarks allude to a moment near the end that story.

As always, I ask that you please review. This is my first attempt at a short story, and I would love some feedback. In addition, I would like to know if you would enjoy a sequel to this story – perhaps one that picks up where this one leaves off, a narration of their first time together. It would be rated M, of course. ;-)

Happy Holidays, everybody! :D

Please Review.