It's A One Time Thing It Just Happens A Lot.

Control

A/N: I just want to apologise ahead of this for my rather lame attempt at making up words for curses and spells. My Latin is a good as my ability to leave the biscuit tin unopened!

I hope you enjoy it all the same.  And thank you so much for your comments and votes.  And as always a huge thanks to Jennifer for going over it again. :)

"Christmas," he snapped, "is a highly over-rated holiday. It's not even as if half the kids here know what it's all about."

He settled himself into the armchair, a huge volume of Potion Brewing in the Middle Ages on his lap.

"Don't you like getting presents then?" she teased him.

"I'm not saying anything about the giving and receiving of presents,"

"Giving? Have you got me a present?" Meg asked hopefully. "Is it edible?"

He sent her a particularly scornful sneer and carried on speaking as he turned the pages.

"The true roots of Christmas is, of course, the Pagan Festival of Saturnalia."

"Sun worshipping," she agreed. "Yes, I know that Severus, but you can't begrudge the children their fun."

"Why not?" he grumbled. He hated Christmas time. It was just another reminder of everything he could never be, or hope to have.

Meg rested her chin on her hand and gazed out of her window, she could just make out the edge of the lake from here. They were in her rooms for once and she was taking advantage of it by sitting at the window.

"You're just being grouchy," she sighed. "Christmas means a lot to them, let them be for once."

"It doesn't mean anything to me. It's just an excuse to spend a lot of money and get truly grumpy after."

"It's not like you need an excuse to be grumpy. You're doing a fine job now and it's still four days to Christmas Day."

"I am not," he denied, his eyes snapping with anger.

"You are! Bet you wouldn't complain about being swept under the Mistletoe." She slid off the seat and padded over to him, her hand subconsciously rubbing her thigh where her leg had been broken. Even though it was more than two weeks since Poppy had let her go, it still hurt her occasionally.

He watched her come over and raised an eyebrow.

"What are you going to do? I want to read this." He eyed her warily as she perched on the edge of his chair.

"If you wanted to read it, you wouldn't have been moaning about Christmas for the past ten minutes. Are you acquainted with Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol?" she asked him as she plucked the unopened book from his hand and slid down onto his lap.

"I am. However, I am not, and never have been, like Scrooge and I take great offence in you suggesting otherwise."

"Are you sure you're not like Scrooge?" She slid her finger nail down over his cheek making him narrow his eyes at her.

"Positive!" Despite his annoyance with her, his hands slid round her waist.

"So what have you got me then?" She leant her head on his shoulder and looked up at his face.

"I am not going to tell you," he smirked. "You can niggle all you like. You can irritate as much as you like; I will not tell you. If indeed I have bought you anything. Brat!"

"Spoilsport!" she laughed and slid her hand round his neck. Her eyes closing, she was comfortable and secure sitting on his lap, with his arms around her. He didn't always like it, and sometimes she had to accept that he just didn't want her touching him, but now he was relaxed and so was she. She snuggled her head under his chin and sighed.