Dumbledore promptly saw himself through to the main living quarters, setting the pies down on the table and noticing the now-open liquor cabinet.
"Ah, I see you've gotten the Merlot in, my boy!" he called.
"That is the same bottle that you gifted me last year, on account of the fact you drank my previous one," Snape responded, flatly.
He heard a soft snicker, and noted that Harry was still standing by the front door, watching him with those blasted eyes.
For a moment, the two of them simply stood in the entranceway, and the potions master ignored the clinking of glasses from behind him, which told him the headmaster was likely helping himself to last year's Christmas gift.
"Is… is it okay?" Harry asked softly, eventually.
"What is that, Mr Potter?"
"Me being here," the boy clarified.
"This is your home, is it not?" Snape pointed out.
Harry said nothing in response to that, but stepped a little closer all the same.
"I'm sorry."
"For?" Snape pressed – because for once, he really wasn't sure.
"My behaviour. And… and for saying I h-hated you," Harry clarified. "I didn't mean it."
"I know," he offered, and then after a pause: "It is forgotten."