December 22, 1982

Foxfire Hall:

“Whatcha doing, Hotspur?” asked Harry, watching the elf twine holly loaded with red berries about the large banister and balcony of the upstairs landing. This had been a tradition in the Prince residence since Hotspur was a little elfkin, and the holly was picked from the estate grounds. It was wound with red velvet ribbon and pretty gold balls.

“I am twining this holly and ivy about the landing, young master,” replied the elf, never ceasing his twisting motion. Because his hands were so small, he could twine the ribbon quite tightly and rearrange the greenery to fall in a pleasing manner and not have to worry too much about getting stuck with the prickly holly leaves. “See? It makes the hallway look festive and we elves have been doing this for over a hundred years.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Wow! That’s . . .I can’t count that high. It’s bigger than seven, right?”

Hotspur chuckled. “Much bigger, little one.”

“Can I help?”

Hotspur hesitated. He had a system for decorating the halls and wasn’t sure if Harry would be more of a hindrance than a help. But he didn’t want the little boy’s feelings to be hurt, so he said, “Why don’t you decorate the hall upon the left side there, near your room?”

“Okay!” Harry said, excited. He loved helping out like a grown-up. “ Can I have some stuff? The holly n’ ivy?”

“Yes, child. Take those over there,” the elf pointed to several ribbons with holly and ivy already wound upon them. Then he began to hum the tune to the old carol “Deck the Halls”.

Harry quickly took the ribbons and dragged them along behind him as he went over to the left side of the hallway, closest to his and his papa’s room. The wall was bare and Harry thought it looked . . .boring. He stood on tiptoe and tried to drape the long string along the wall, finding that it was harder than it looked.

A lot harder.

He managed to put up one end of the ribbon, it was magicked to stick to the wall when it was pressed there. Then he tried to make the holly and ivy swirl about like Hotspur and found it wouldn’t cooperate. But Harry was stubborn and wouldn’t give up easily. Finally, he had the first ribbon up and went to put the other one down the hall.

It took him ten minutes to get the longer ribbon stuck up and then he looked at the hallway. It looked . . .like it needed something else. Harry thought and thought. Then he had an idea. What if he drew a picture on the wall, to go with the holly and ivy? In all his Christmas books, they always had birds with the holly and the tree.

But Harry didn’t know how to draw a bird, and he decided to look outside for one to draw. He scurried past Hotspur, who called, “Finished already, little one?”

“Yes. I’m goin’ into the garden, Hotspur,” Harry informed the elf, because Severus had impressed upon him the need to tell someone in the manor when he left it and where he was going.

“Okay, Master Harry,” the elf called, finishing up his task.

Harry slipped down the stairs, they were long and windy and he slid halfway down on his bottom because it was faster that way. His legs were small and he always got tired halfway down and besides it was fun to slide, since the stairs had a runner of green carpet going down the middle. The wood was also free of splinters from being walked on for so many years.

The garden that Harry was allowed into was attached to the conservatory, which was a large room with tall glass windows and had several hothouse plants and a fountain in it, as well as several chairs to sit and relax in. Harry quickly went through it and out the small screened in door to a low walled garden, filled with roses and rhododendrons and tulips. Because Drusilla had been a Stormcaller, she had managed to tweak the weather and temperature in the garden, allowing the roses to bloom year round. So the birds always came there to sing and fly among the fragrant blooms. In addition to the roses, Drusilla had planted a large hedge of holly along the side closest to the house, where it was protected from wind and too much sun. The holly was now blooming, with large clusters of bright red berries.

Harry walked out along the flagstone path to a small stone bench and sat there for awhile, watching the birds, mostly small sparrows and finches and once a bright red-breasted robin going to and fro among the holly hedge, nibbling and eating the berries.

They reminded Harry of cranberries, because they were round and red in color.

He watched for a moment or two longer before getting chilled and deciding to go back inside and finish decorating the hallway upstairs.

By the time he got upstairs again, he was hot and tired and hungry. It was nearly lunchtime, a fact that his tummy was reminding him of loudly. He wanted to call Lina and ask her if he could have a snack, but first he wanted to finish the hallway so he could surprise his papa and grandpa. He liked decorating for Christmas. The hallway and landing was empty, since Hotspur had moved on to attend to some other task in the manor.

He found a small pot of ink sitting on top of his papa’s desk in his bedroom, which was unlocked for once. Severus had been in a hurry to get to work that morning and forgot to lock the door as he usually did. So Harry went in and saw a pot of ink and a spare quill on Severus’ desk.

Oh good! Now I can draw the birds! Harry thought happily, climbing up on the chair and taking the items.

He had seen his papa and grandpa use a quill many times and he dipped it and began to draw a bird flying underneath each of his ribbons of holly and ivy. This took him a long time, since the quill kept dripping ink on the floor, but finally he was satisfied.

He couldn’t wait for his father and grandfather to see how he had “decked the halls”.

But just then his tummy grumbled again.

He stared up at the bright red berries hanging just in front of his nose. The birds had seemed to like them and they looked an awful lot like the cranberries Lina had put in the stuffing the night before. Harry had been allowed to eat some and they had tasted a bit tart and sweet. His mouth watered and he plucked a holly berry from the wall and smelled it.

It smelled pretty good, and he was hungry. It was small though, and so he picked five more and stuffed them into his mouth. They tasted quite tart but there was enough sweetness to them that Harry didn’t spit them out. He swallowed them, wondering as he did so why the birds seemed to like them so much. They didn’t taste half as good as cranberries.

A few moments later he heard Lina calling for him to come and eat lunch with Severus and Augustus and he quickly scuttled down the stairs. His tummy was still rumbling and it felt strange.

Today they were having soup and chicken salad sandwiches for lunch. Harry ate most of what he was given, and afterwards Severus asked him how his day had gone.

“It was good.” Harry told him. “I helped Hotspur dek-rate the halls, Papa.”

“Ah. Sounds like fun,” Severus said.

“Wanna see it?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I can’t. You can show me later. I have to get back to work now, but I’ll be home in a few hours,” Severus said, ruffling the child’s hair, which had become a shade darker over the past year.

Harry looked disappointed, but cheered up when Severus suggested going into the playroom and playing while he was gone.

Once he made sure Harry was occupied so he wouldn’t cause a fuss when he left, the Potions Master Apparated back to his work station at Prince Labs, where he was working on an improved Boil Cure potion, one that both cured and prevented boils at the same time.

Some ten minutes later, just as he was decanting his finished product into a beaker, he received a frantic Floo-call from Augustus—Harry was very ill, stomachache, vomiting, and diarrhea.

“I don’t think it’s a virus, Severus,” Augustus said. “I think he ate something he shouldn’t have. Something toxic.”

Severus left the beaker half full and Apparated home immediately.

When he arrived, he found Harry crying on Augustus’ lap. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Sick, Papa. My tummy hurts real bad.” He was clutching his belly and groaning. Augustus had a plastic bucket sitting next to them on the floor.

Severus took the sobbing child into his arms and asked, “Harry, what did you eat today? Can you remember?”

“I ate lunch with you an’ then I felt yucky.”

“Before lunch did you have anything to eat?”

“Uh huh. I ate the berries in the hall. Like the birds did.”

“You ate what berries? Where?” Severus cried, frantic.

“The-the holly berries!” Harry wailed, and then he retched again, violently.

Severus held him over the bucket, rubbing his back, his heart frozen and cold in his chest. He knew, as did all Potions Masters, that holly berries were toxic in small children, and Harry was not a large toddler. How long ago was this? Maybe a half an hour or an hour? How many berries did he eat? Dear sweet Merlin, but I need to get him to St. Mungos! His heart was thudding wildly in his chest, he was utterly terrified the way he had never been in all of his life.

When Harry was through, Severus wiped his mouth with a cloth and held him. “Shh, it’s going to be okay. Papa’s going to bring you to a Healer and they’ll fix you.”

Harry just nodded and buried his head in the crook of Severus’ neck. He felt terrible but he was sure his papa would make him feel better, like always.

Severus went to Floo over to St. Mungos and Augustus followed, unwilling to leave his two grandsons alone at the hospital.

* * * * * *

The emergency room was crowded with people when they arrived, but Augustus rushed over to the desk and informed the receptionist on duty that his grandson had been poisoned and they were immediately rushed into a treatment room. Severus sat upon the exam table with Harry in his lap and looked like he was about to fall apart, his eyes were glazed and he kept murmuring softly to his child, who was sobbing and starting to grow weak and sleepy from the vomiting and the poisoning.

An intern in a blue coat followed them in with a piece of parchment and a quill. “I need some information on the child, Mr.—?”

“Prince,” Augustus interjected smoothly. “I’m Augustus Prince and that’s my great-grandson, Henry. He needs a physician right away,” he barked.

The intern flinched at the stinging tone. “One is on the way, sir.” She wrote Henry Prince upon the chart. “How old is he?”

“Two and a half.”

“How much does he weigh?”

“Uh . . .twenty-five pounds, I think.”

The quill wrote rapidly as she queried the older man about Harry’s symptoms and what he had eaten.

By the time she had done that, Harry had vomited again, into a basin Severus had conjured, and by then Severus was ready to climb the wall. “Where the hell is your Healer, damn it?” he snapped. “This is an emergency, not a routine exam!”

Just then a rather rotund Healer with brown hair and blue eyes came into the room, she was wearing a white robe and looked to be about thirty. “Hello. I’m Healer Faolin. What seems to be the problem?”

“My son has swallowed some holly berries,” Severus said.

“Ah. A common occurrence around the holidays with kids his age,” the Healer said, reading the chart and then waving her wand over Harry. “Poor thing! He’s suffering from a rather acute case of holly poisoning plus an allergic reaction as well to the berries. How many times has he vomited?”

“Twice while I’ve had him,” Severus answered.

“Three times before that,” Augustus answered.

“Five times.” She paused to examine the contents of the basin. “How long ago did the symptoms start?”

Once she had all the information she needed, Healer Faolin spelled an Anti-Nausea potion directly into Harry’s stomach. Then she knelt down and asked Harry, “Sweetie, can you tell me how many berries you ate?”

“Uh . . .don’t know . . .” Harry whined, he was still feeling sick despite the potion.

“Was it more than three?” the Healer asked patiently.

“Try and remember, Harry,” Severus encouraged, brushing the hair back from Harry’s forehead, which was sheened with sweat.

Harry tried. “Yes, I think . . .I ate six.”

“Six?” Severus was horrified.

“Three will produce mild nausea and vomiting, but since he took double the dose, his symptoms are worse,” Faolin mused. “But don’t panic, Mr. Prince, holly poisoning is rarely fatal. We can treat the little guy with potions and he should be fine in a day or two. He doesn’t seem to have ingested much of the berries, because he ate food afterwards that slowed down the absorption process and the vomiting made him expel most of the berries, which is good.”

“If that’s so, why is he so ill?” asked Severus.

“His reaction is allergic in nature.” The Healer replied. “I think it best if you leave him overnight so we can monitor him, sir.”

“Fine, but I’m staying with him,” Severus said firmly. He didn’t bother to correct the mistake with Harry’s name or his own. He remembered this Healer now. She had been on call that Christmas Day when he had first found Harry and she had provided the potions for him to give the baby. But she apparently didn’t recall him, then again, she saw so many people a day that it was probably impossible for her to recall one particular face in over a thousand, especially if it were only for a few moments. Then too, he had not been at his best either, exhausted and drawn. But it was a relief that she did not remember him. And since she had never seen Harry, she wouldn’t connect him with the Boy Who Lived either.

“Of course, sir.”

“What potions will you give him?” Severus queried.

“A spoonful of a very mild Detox Elixir, formulated for his height and weight and age,” she answered. “A Pain Reliever, some Anti-Itch Solution as well, I think because of his allergy he may break out in hives, and a Stomach Soother. I’m going to put you in a private room in the Children’s Ward, Mr. Prince, one with a connecting bathroom. Is he potty trained?”

“Just starting.”

“Well, you may want to put him in a nappy for overnight, since the Detox potion might give him the runs.”

“All right.” Severus agreed.

“Follow me then,” she beckoned him out of the exam room and up a set of stairs.

Once in the room, she and Severus managed to get the cranky toddler to take most of the potions he needed, and when he started to refuse, Healer Faolin simply spelled them into him by placing her wand on Harry’s stomach.

She then Transfigured Harry’s clothing into a small set of hospital pajamas and a nappy. “There, now you’ll be more comfortable, won’t you, sweet thing?” she smiled at Harry.

Harry pouted unhappily. “Can I go home now?”

“Not yet. First you need to stay here for a bit,” she told him. “Just until we can make sure you’re better, Harry. Do you feel a little better now?”

He nodded. “I . . .I wan’ ‘fessor Hush-a-bye.”

Augustus promptly summoned the bear dressed in black robes for Harry to hold. It was his favorite toy still and he always slept with it at night.

Harry clutched the bear to him, burying his face in the soft fur. His face was blotchy from crying.

Severus felt unaccountably guilty. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice he was sick, maybe I could have . . .” he began.

“Don’t blame yourself. It was an accident. Were you at home when he ate the berries?” asked the Healer sympathetically.

“No, I was at work. But I never thought to warn him about not eating the holly. . .”

“Children his age are into everything, as I know since I have one his age at home myself. She swallowed a button while I was right beside her, ripped it off my shirt, so don’t feel bad, either of you,” she added, for Augustus looked guilty and regretful too. “Tis the season. The important thing is you didn’t panic and you identified the substance right away and brought him in as soon as you could. He’s going to be fine. I’ll see you later.”

She departed, leaving the three alone.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Gotta go potty.”

Severus took him, though Harry kicked up a fuss at having to wear a nappy afterwards.

“I is a big boy!”

“I know, but you’re sick, son, and you don’t want to have an accident,” he told him, refastening the nappy.

Harry cried, not understanding, and Severus hushed him, holding him until he fell asleep. Then he went to put him down in the small bed and afterwards turned to Augustus and said, “ Grandfather, you don’t have to stay, I can manage him on my own now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Severus. I’m not going anywhere. I should have been watching him more closely instead of relying on the elves to mind him, I know what mischief little children get into . . .”

“Grandfather, please. The Healer was right, these things happen. It could have been worse. He could have eaten more than six berries.” Severus patted the older wizard on the shoulder, suppressing a shudder. Twenty berries was a fatal dose for a child. I should have remembered the holly looks tempting to a child and told him not to eat it. I’m a terrible parent for forgetting that. He nearly died because of my oversight.

Harry slept and dusk fell. Augustus dozed while Severus watched both of them sleep, mentally flogging himself and vowing to go and burn all the holly in the manor. Until he realized how stupid that sounded and woke up Augustus. He persuaded the old wizard to go back home and reassure the elves Harry was all right and sleep in his own bed.

Severus then Transfigured the chair he’d been sitting in to a bed and fell asleep for a time, until Harry woke him, he was thirsty, hot, and scratchy.

Snape summoned some water in a cup and some magical salve to rub on the toddler’s irritated skin, for Harry had broken out in hives on his stomach and thighs.

“Don’t scratch.”

“Itchy,” whined his son, trying to scratch through his shirt.

“Stop. You’ll make it worse,” Severus ordered, holding the small hand firmly.

He applied the salve, then sat with his sick child till he quit squirming and went back to sleep.

Somewhere around the wee small hours of the morning, Snape allowed himself to sleep as well.

* * * * * *

Harry woke to the sun streaming into his eyes and sat up. He felt loads better, his tummy no longer hurt and he was no longer hot and scratchy. He looked around at the oddly papered room with its theme of colorful rabbits and smiley faces and he wondered where he was. Then he remembered—he was at the Healer place with his papa because he had eaten those yucky berries that weren’t cranberries. He would never make that mistake again. He looked over and saw his father sleeping in the bed next to him.

Harry still felt a little woozy, but he also needed to use the bathroom, so he wriggled off the bed and walked quickly into the bathroom, the hem of his hospital robe flapping.

Severus woke to the sound of the toilet flushing and quickly sat up, looking over to his son’s bed.

Finding it empty, he almost panicked.

Until he saw Harry walk out of the bathroom, bare-arsed, having removed the hated nappy, the hospital robe not being long enough to cover him. “Harry, for heaven’s sake, why didn’t you wait for me?”

The little boy shrugged. “You was sleepin’. An’ I don’t wear nappies anymore! That’s for babies!” He scowled up at his father.

“Oh, Harry!” groaned his father. Still, he couldn’t blame the child for his attitude. He quickly conjured a set of underpants. “Come here and put these on, imp, before some nurse walks in here and sees your bare bottom.”

Harry obliged, letting Severus put the pants on him, then he crawled into the other’s lap.

“How are you feeling? Better?”

“Uh-huh. I’m hungry. When’s bweakfast?”

“Soon.” The familiar question sent a wave of relief through him, because it meant his beloved child was truly on the road to recovery. Mingled with the relief, however, was anger because Harry had scared him half to death. “Son, don’t you ever eat anything from a tree or a bush or a plant, anything, without telling me first. Or if not me, your grandpa. You could have died, Harry. Those berries were poisonous, son. That’s why you got so sick. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I’s never gonna eat them again.” He hung his head. “Sorry, Papa. Am I in twouble?” He sniffled, looking pathetic.

“Not this time, I think you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t ever scare me like that again!” he scolded, then he hugged his precious son to him, silent tears of relief and anxiety slipping down his face to fall into Harry’s messy auburn mop, which was sticking up like crazy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, not since he was a small child after one of Tobias’ many beatings, but his emotions had been on a tilt-a-whirl since yesterday, ranging from terror to guilt to anger and everything inbetween, and the pressure had built and built within him before at last finding an outlet in the tears he now shed. He buried his face in the child’s hair, breathing in his scent and thanking God that his son had been spared. He didn’t even want to think about what he would have felt if Harry had been taken from him. It would have been intolerable.

Harry started to cry too, thinking Severus was angry with him. “I’m sowwy, Papa! I didn’ mean to ’care you! I’m sowwy I was bad an’ now I won’t get pwesents from Father Kistmas.” He began to bawl rather loudly.

Severus froze, stunned that Harry would jump to that conclusion, and for a moment was robbed of his voice. Then he found it again and said, somewhat hoarsely, “Harry, hush up and listen to me. You’re not bad for eating the holly, son. Just . . .well, it was a mistake. Stop crying now.” He began to rock the child gently and pat his bottom. “Shh, son. It’s all right. I forgive you.” Harry continued to sob, sounding as if he were being skinned alive. “Merlin, child, if you don’t stop crying like I’ve beaten you, the Healers are going to come in here and have me arrested and locked away.”

Abruptly, Harry stopped. “No!” he gulped hard. “They can’t do that! Nobody locks up my papa!” He lifted his tear-stained face and looked at Severus. “You isn’t mad?”

“No. I forgive you. And Father Christmas will still leave you presents under the tree, don’t worry. Why did you think he wouldn’t?”

“’Cause . . .’cause I was bad an’ ate the berries for deckin’ the halls after I drawed the birds on the wall.” He told his father in a small ashamed voice.

“Harry, I told you that was an accident—what do you mean you drew birds on the wall?” Severus exclaimed sharply. “How many times have I told you, young man, drawing is to be done on parchment or paper, not the wall? What did you draw with and where?”

“Upstairs, near my room. I . . .I took your quill n’ink from your room.”

“Henry Snape . . .!” Severus growled. “Your grandfather is going to skin you and me both! You know better, I know you do.”

“I forgot.”

“Humph! Well, when we get home, you can scrub the wall and maybe that’ll remind you to draw on parchment next time and to keep your sticky fingers out of my desk, clear?”

“Yes, sir. Do I . . .get pwesents still?”

Severus groaned. “Maybe. If you behave from now till Christmas morning. That’s . . .two days from now.”

“I’ll be good!” Harry promised.

Severus prayed for that miracle. Lately, Harry’s middle name had become Trouble, but then again, it wasn’t called “the terrible twos” for nothing, and he supposed he would just have to get used to it. He gave his son a light spank on the bottom and sat him on his lap to wait for the Healer to come in and check Harry over. He had a feeling this was only the beginning of his son’s mischief making ways, given who his father had been. Merlin grant me strength and patience, because I think I’m going to need every bit of it to keep from going out of my mind. Then again, I’m thankful the little imp is still around to raise hell. He hugged Harry again, making the child squeak in protest.

“Not so hard, Papa!”

Severus loosened his hold, and that was how Healer Faolin found them a few minutes later.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Severus had returned home, Healer Faolin had declared he was back to normal, and was greeted with open arms by Augustus and the two elves, until they learned of Harry’s drawing spree. Augustus scolded the child briefly, then sent him upstairs to clean off the wall with some Magical Ink Remover, supervised by the entire household.

“I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Severus apologized, knowing how Augustus hated messes. “I just don’t know what gets into him.”

Augustus snorted. “It’s the age, Severus. Get used to it, because it could last for another year, and then he’ll get older and just move on to greater mischief, like all children.”

“Bloody hell!” Snape hissed under his breath, ignoring Augustus’ knowing smirk. Sometimes the old man was positively diabolical in his predictions. Then he glared at his grandfather. “You needn’t look so smug!”

Augustus didn’t answer, he was too busy smothering a wicked chuckle. Poor Severus didn’t know what he was up against.