Aside from having dinner with Draco in his quarters, Severus spent the rest of the afternoon with Harry, sitting by his bed in the infirmary. The two boys settled next to each other, leaning back on plumped pillows and talking softly, while Severus read from his newest Potions Quarterly and listened discreetly to their conversation. Draco hadn't apologized again, as well he shouldn't - groveling was fine on occasion, but excessive groveling from a Malfoy would be intolerable - but he was surprised to hear Harry ask Draco again if he was hurt.

"I heard you scream," Harry told him, earnest even in his very quiet voice. "I thought the squid got you."

"I didn't scream," Draco insisted. "I was just calling your name. You know, in a concerned way." Draco paused and nudged Harry lightly with his shoulder. "Anyway, did you know you blew up the squid?"

Severus stopped with the page of the journal half-turned, and listened carefully, as Harry whispered, "I never!"

"You did," Draco sounded a little smug. "It was disgusting, really. Blue slime all over the place. You got the tentacle that had you, and two others, too, I think."

Harry looked miserable and pulled his lower lip in between his teeth. "I just wanted it to let me go, so I could help you."

"You were the one in trouble. I didn't need any help." Draco smirked. "Comes from having a better broom."

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, and his lips turned downward even more. "I s'pose mine's gone, innit?"

"It fell in the lake. I didn't see where it went after that."

Harry nodded, and Severus could tell the boy was trying hard not to cry as his fingers toyed with the blanket he was tucked under. Severus' gaze flicked to Draco for an instant, quick enough to see the look of indecision before the blond offered, "You can use mine sometimes, if you want."

Severus smiled behind his journal as Harry said, "Really?"

"Sure. But, er, we can't fly over the lake again, right?"

Harry's eyes got big. "Right," he swore. "No more lake."

Another, longer pause, then, "Why are you scared of the lake anyway?"

"I wasn't scared," Harry hissed, sounding scandalized by the very idea.

Draco frowned at him. "All right. Why didn't you like it, then?"

A much longer pause. Severus held his breath, waiting to see if Harry would tell his friend about what Petunia had done. He'd seen the memory of it in the woman's head, the night he cast Legilimens upon her, but Harry didn't know that he knew. Harry, in fact, didn't know he knew anything at all about the Dursleys, except what the boy had told him himself. And, he had yet to tell the boy that he'd seen Vernon and Petunia and meted out punishment. That could wait for another time, however.

Draco waited patiently, too, a feat for which he had likely received training from his father, and Severus had almost decided that his son wasn't going to answer at all before Harry opened his mouth again. "I don't like water like that. Deep and stuff."

"But why?"

Harry gave a little shrug and stared at his hands. "I almost drownded," he said, so softly Severus had to strain to hear.

"Honest? Where? How?"

Once more Harry surprised him. "Bathtub. I was real little."

"You're still little."

"Well, I was littler."

Draco wrinkled his nose, and Severus knew the boy wanted to correct Harry's speech, but was frankly shocked when Draco passed on the opportunity and instead said, "I probably wouldn't like lakes either, if I'd nearly drowned."

Harry gave him a small smile, and their conversation turned to the tea they'd had with Hagrid and how drooly the gamekeeper's dog was. Both of them were laughing inside of a minute.

Severus finished turning the page and picked up reading again.

---

"Father," Harry whispered, and Severus opened his eyes from where he was dozing on a Transfigured chaise longue. Draco was sleeping in a bed on Harry's other side, since Poppy had refused to let him take Harry back to their quarters, and Severus refused to leave either boy alone for the night. The boy's nasal snores were extremely un-Malfoylike.

Severus had told both of them a night time story - which Poppy apparently found uproariously amusing, to judge by her expression - and tucked them in, then read to himself for a while before closing his eyes. He'd assumed, with the sleeping draught Harry had been dosed with, that the boy would not wake till mid morning. But it was only 2am, now.

"Yes, Harry?"

The boy's eyes were hidden in the little bit of light from the moon that shone through the infirmary windows, and his face lay in shadow. Even so, he saw the boy swallow hard and fight to keep his gaze steady. "I'm sorry, ‘bout the squid, and my broom, and getting my hand wet, and getting hurt again."

"I know you are, Harry. We'll talk about it tomorrow, with Draco, too."

"Yes, si - Yes, Father."

Severus hesitated, but he knew he was going to need to address this issue sooner or later. Eventually, the boy would need to face his fear of water. He'd tried to, Severus knew, and if it hadn't been for the squid, he might have gone a step toward overcoming it. But now . . . Very slowly, Severus raised the chairback until he was upright, and moved his hand forward so it rested on the blanket next to Harry's.

"I know what happened to you in the bath, when you were younger, Harry."

Harry's mouth fell open and he shook his head.

"Yes, I do. I . . . saw a memory of that, your Aunt's memory, and I am more sorry than you can imagine, for what happened to you."

"Nothing happened," the boy insisted. "Nothing!"

Draco moaned and turned over in his sleep, and Harry's eyes widened, as he darted a look at the other boy. A split second later, a blue-white nimbus flared around Harry then faded slowly.

A moment later, the boy looked completely panicked. "I'm sorry!" he gasped and waved his hand as if swatting a fly. A smaller, less bright light appeared, and vanished more quickly. "No Silencing, you said, sir. I'm sorry!"

"Harry." Startled by the obviously intentional bit of magic, Severus leaned forward with a frown, which deepened when Harry shied away, shoulders hunched and head down as if expecting a blow. Severus put up his own Silencio, so they wouldn't be overheard. "Easy now. I think we've had another misunderstanding."

"We have?" A peek through his fringe gave him a tiny glimpse of green eyes.

"We have," Severus said, then went on very slowly, and firmly, "Because what I meant by you not performing that spell was that I don't want you do any Silencing when you are upset or in pain. I don't want it used when you're trying not to disturb me when you wake from nightmares or get hurt or scared, because I want to help you. Do you see how those situations are different from this one?"

Harry darted another look at young Malfoy before nodding once.

"Please explain to me how it is different, Harry."

"I . . . er, I'm not in pain right now, sir?"

"Yes, and?"

"And I'm not upset from a nightmare?"

Snape's lips quirked in an almost smile. "Yes. And what else?"

"And I wasn't disturbing you?"

"Exactly." He cocked his head a bit and gave Harry a piercing look. "But you didn't want to disturb Draco from his sleep with our conversation; that was very thoughtful. Did you put the spell up on purpose, or was it an accident?"

Harry looked away. "I can't do magic on purpose, Father. I tried before, at Spinner's End, and nothing happened. I'm sorry."

Severus shook his head and asked Harry to look at him, waiting until the boy met his gaze again. "I believe you can do magic, Harry. I believe you just did." When Harry's worried eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to disagree, Severus went on relentlessly, "Tell me, did you think about what you were doing when you put up a Silencing spell just now? Or did it just happen, out of your control? And when you canceled the spell again, thinking I was angry about it, did you know what you were doing, or did that just happen, too?"

"I . . . er . . ." A sudden smile lit up the boy's face. "I did do it on purpose!"

"Yes."

"Then I can be your son!"

"Of course you can," Severus said with a puzzled frown. "You are my son."

"But not if I didn't have magic, Father. Draco says people without magic are Muggles and they aren't allowed at Hogwarts."

"Well, that's true, but it would have nothing to do with whether you were my son or not."

"It wouldn't?"

"No, Harry. I told you earlier, you're my son no matter what you do, or don't do. You're not going away, and neither am I."

The boy took a long, relieved sounding breath, before he gave Severus a tiny, sly-looking grin. "Draco said there's no such thing as telly, too."

"Did he now?" Severus returned the boy's smile. He had no idea what telly was, but knew it existed at least; some Muggle picture contraption, he thought. "I guess that means Draco doesn't know everything. You'd be wise to keep that in mind, should any other adventurous ideas come up in your scheming together."

"Yes, Father," Harry said, his smile turning rueful, and leaned back against his pillows.

"Get some rest now. We'll talk more tomorrow," Severus told him, and pressed a kiss to his brow and was pleased no end when Harry didn't flinch.

---

After breakfast, which Harry ate from a tray, in bed, Madam Pomfrey let him leave the infirmary with Father and Draco. They'd gotten to eat in the dungeons, together, and Harry had felt left out, so he was feeling what Father called, "snappish" as they entered their quarters, and scowled a little when Father wouldn't let them go to his room and play, but told them to "stay put on the settee" instead.

Harry groused a little more when he saw that Draco could sit so his feet almost touched the floor, but Harry's ankles barely came past the edge of the upholstered cushion. He hated being the smallest all the time.

Father sat in his leather armchair across from them. His brows were drawn down as he stared over hands knitted together near his chin. Harry's irritation disappeared, and he felt a hollow pit open in his stomach. He and Draco were in serious trouble.

Draco was sitting perfectly still, hands folded in his lap. Harry copied him, and tried to keep his gaze on Father's face, and not on his shoes.

"I am very disappointed in you both," Father said.

Harry's heart sank into the hollow pit, too. This soft, calm tone was almost worse than Uncle Vernon's rages. And he never wanted to disappoint his new father, not ever!

"I trusted you to both to listen to Nelli and not give her any trouble. I trusted you, Harry, to not do anything that might re-injure your hand, after all the trouble we went through getting it fixed. And Draco, I trusted you to not put yourself in jeopardy with dangerous stunts, especially on your first day here. Neither of you lived up to my trust."

Shame washed over Harry as Father paused. He'd known he shouldn't go flying. He'd known Nelli didn't want them to. He'd been bad, and as Father pursed his lips, Harry clenched his hands together, readying himself for whatever punishment came his way. Would he be locked in a cupboard? Maybe he'd have no meals? Or maybe Father would use a belt? He could handle any of that, any punishment at all, except a collar and chain.

"I am trying to decide if it was a mistake to have Draco over, so soon after we arrived. Perhaps he should return home, so Harry can better acclimate himself to Hogwarts without distraction."

Both boys jerked at the pronouncement, and Draco looked even more scared than Harry felt, but neither of them said anything. Harry knew better than to argue, and figured Draco did, too. His friend had felt his own father's cane on his backside more than once, he'd bet anything.

Father leaned back, watching them both with his dark, glittering eyes. Then he sighed. "Alas, I fear the elder Malfoy would be rather put out were I to send his son back so soon, and thus I am forced to consider other consequences for your decidedly foolish behavior."

Harry braced himself, and saw Draco do the same, out of the corner of his eye.

"Therefore, I think it is only fitting that I should remove the temptation for this sort of . . . Gryffindor adventurousness by taking away broom privileges for the duration of Draco's stay. No flying for a week, for either of you. Perhaps you will learn to keep your heads on straight if they are closer to the ground." He raked them with his gaze once more and jerked his chin toward the hallway where Harry's bedroom lay. "That is all. Go on now, both of you. I have work to do."

Harry stared at Draco, who stared back, both of them taking relieved breaths. No brooms! It was disappointing, sure, but it wasn't anything as bad as he'd feared. They scrambled off the settee and dutifully headed for Harry's room. "Thank you, Father," Harry said as they passed his chair.

"Thank you, Uncle Sev," Draco echoed.

Father shut his eyes briefly, Harry saw, and when he spoke, his words were quiet and almost sad, which didn't make any sense, unless he was still really disappointed, but somehow, Harry didn't think he was. "You're welcome, boys. But please, try to behave yourselves today."

"We will!" they promised, and held themselves to it until well into the afternoon.