Chapter twelve.


/ *1991.August 26th.Ottery St Catchpole

"Remember, I'm only a floo away Harry, alright? If You need me, then you'll floo.... Although it's better if you don't...unless it's an emergency of course... But if it's manageable, floo to the Wealseys please...."

"Okay Dad you already said all this." Harry chirped, grinning from ear to ear as he perched himself on the sofa's handle. Severus chose to ignore the eleven year old.

"I put your dinner on the table, it has a warming charm on it so you should be fine, eat the vegetables please, and if you need more I also put away some leftovers sandwiches in the fridge, don't wash the dishes, trust me /I will know/ and go to bed at nine.."

Harry's grin lessened a little and Severus sighed. "Nine thirty, but if I see you're up late then you're grounded Harry." the man emphasized his point by pointing a finger his way before rushing back to stuff more vials into his brief medical case. Harry pursed his lips to hide the laughter bubbling up in his chest and pushed down his amusement.

"I will be good Dad." the smile in his voice made Severus glance up, he scowled half heartedly.

"You cheeky brat." he retorted, smirking. The nervous potion master closed up his bag and straightened his robes for the hundredth time before walking to his child and engulfing him in a rushed but affectionate hug.

"Be good alright? It's all gonna be fine." the last comment seemed to be more to himself than to Harry, and the child simply hugged the man back in return.
"Love ya, bye." he pushed the potion master away to the fireplace, dramatically giving his dad a big thumbs up. Dad fully smirked and turned to leave... Before turning back again.

"What was I thinking? You will not take a bubble bath tonight young man. Half an hour shower or straight to bed. I will not have you cracking your head open and drown in my absnece."

Harry gaped in indignation. "When did that ever happened before that you're....I deserve a bubble bath! I've been having them all by myself since I was eight!"

"With my supervision."

"Dad... I'm not a child."

"No, you're just reckless. No bath alright? I love you, bye, be good." Harry dodged out of the way before Dad could smooth out his hair again.

"Just go already!" Harry pouted, crossing his arms.

"Don't stay up late! And I better not see a red head when I come back!"

"Dad, go!"

Harry released a big sigh when his dad was finally out of the house and slumped back down on the sofa. He felt as if a big weight has been taken away from his shoulders and couldn't quite prevent the Cheshire smile from spreading on his youthful face, before glancing at the clock.

It was already seven, he had plenty of time doing... Nothing. That tingle of excitement went up his navel and Harry bit his lip, looking around their living room as if making sure that Dad was really gone.

He indeed was gone, leaving clusters of vials and black robes on the ground in his hurry, so unlike Dad, that the stark contrast was startling. Dad must have been really nervous. Harry grinned fondly and ignored the mess, determined to have fun in Dad's absence as much as possible.

Harry froze, frowning. That thought wasn't his, there was nothing fun to do in Dad's absence, Harry had made it seem like Dad didn't let him do anything fun and that... Actually made him feel bad.

Trudging his way to the kitchen, Harry rummaged the cupboards, uselessly looking for a snack even though he would have dinner in an hour anyway. Every time he moved he thought he could hear creaking or some other out of place noise. He couldn't help but giggle at the irony.
He had not been left alone in the house all by himself... Like ever. He didn't remember much about /them/, and Dad was way too protective to leave him to his own devices for too long, specially at night.

He would have robbed their candy cupboard for some liquorice but his conscious went against the idea as soon as it popped up. No, no rule breaking... He sighed.
Self consciously the eleven year old picked up a book (his father's journal) and slumped back on the couch in the living room, positioning it in the middle of the room, so he had access to /everywhere/. Thinking that there was a mug or some sort of robber in their house was ridiculous and a little childish, but after hearing creaks and strange sounds that shouldn't be there, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious.

He understood next to nothing from the journal, and it wasn't from the lack of trying, Harry never found it in him to show the same passion to potions that Dad did. The man was /obsessed / with potions, every waking moment that wasn't spent with Harry, was spent down in his labs, creating miracles ( Dad's words). And Harry figured they should be really impressive for someone like Dumbledore to pin for his dad even after five years or for magazines and reporters to publish his dad's face on the very first page on their reports every now and then.

Harry stalled dinner as long as he could, stealing longing glances towards the fireplace, he felt the excitement slowly turn into dread, like icy water lashing around in his guts.

At eight thirty, the boy had finished his dinner, changed into his sleeping clothes and tried to clean out his room, which also didn't take as long as he hoped it would. With the heavy air hanging around the house, Harry decided to listen to his dad and spare himself the bubble bath tonight, so after another fifteen minutes of shower, and a very detailed tooth brushing that Hermione would be proud of, Harry had nothing else to do.

The child huffed out a sigh and pouted, berating himself for ruining this shining opportunity to have fun in his dad's absence, though even he didn't know what could possibly be fun without his dad to witness.

At nine, Harry had no choice but sleep, as much as he dreaded nightmares, he hated this restlessness and this squeamish feeling in his chest. Call him a baby, but Harry found more reassurance with Rabbity in his bed next to him than on his night stand, so the rabbit would sleep with him tonight.

"It's not as good as I thought." he whispered to the stuffed animal, a long time habit he never grown out of.

It'd be okay. He could he tough for Dad, he could do this one thing for him. He thought sleepily and closed his eyes, his glasses next to him on the pillow.


Xx

*1986*

"Just listen to my voice, the context doesn't matter Harry, the sound is important, relax, it's okay."

It was another nightmare and they were both in Harry's bed, under the rumpled heap of blankets with Daddy's wand alight to provide some light. It meant another restless night for the two. Daddy said they were trying something new tonight, he said that they were trying to distract Harry from bad thoughts so he could sleep again. Harry no idea what it meant, but still complied.

The seven year old couldn't calm down, the nightmare had been nasty, one of the most frightening ones he had so far, and he just couldn't stop /shaking/. Pathetic, he thought to himself, what would Daddy say if he knew what a wimp he really was?

He'll leave you like Mommy and Daddy. That's what.

Daddy suddenly shifted. "Remember the chocolate bar you were looking for earlier today?" Harry frowned and nodded. Why would Dad bring that up in a situation like this? Something totally unrelated and typical when Harry was on the verge of tears? Daddy shook his head guiltily.

"I ate it Harry. I'm so sorry though, but Daddy was hungry and tired, and the treat was just on the couch... Yeah, I ate it. I didn't tell you because I thought I would be able to replace it before you go looking for it. "

Harry hummed for Daddy to continue, still too shaken to speak up. "And do you remember that very thin woman we saw in Leaky cauldron yesterday? I might have hexed her hat to stay glued to her head permanently, because she was mean to you. But don't do that alright? Cursing people is a bad thing to do Harry, no matter how rude or mean they are. Daddy made a mistake by doing that...."

Harry smiled and patted the man's chest. "It was funny Daddy."

Daddy cocked his head and shrugged. "Still it was very bad."

"Don't you have anything you want to tell me? It doesn't remotely have to be a bad thing?" Daddy asked and Harry shook his head straight away. He was a good boy and had broken no rules and he really rather Daddy talk. He was funny. Daddy sighed and continued.

"There was a potion gathering last week, the night I left you with the Weasleys? They gave Daddy one of those big and shiny cauldrons because I invented another potion. Do you want to know what it is?"

Harry nodded, feeling considerably calmer, and snuggled to the potion master's chest.

"It's name is Veritaserum. The person whom consumes it has to tell the truth Harry, even if they want to lie, they have no choice but to speak the truth, it was apparently a big accomplishment because they gave me a medal too."

"They can't lie? Like Pinocchio?" Harry could see Daddy resisting a twitch tugging on his lips.

"Yes, quite like him, the ministry wants to use the potion on criminals so they wouldn't lie their way out of prison."

"What is bad about that Daddy?"

"Well, nothing really. But I suppose it can be misused a lot Harry, if it gets in the wrong hands. And that indirectly makes me responsible if anything bad happened." the man tried to explain without disrupting Harry who was using his chest as a pillow.

"But you didn't use it wrong so it isn't bad."

"And you didn't spill the soup in your nightmare child, your... Potter did. Thus you did nothing wrong."

Harry nodded sleepily. "Are you better now?" Daddy asked, the child smiled in awe and nodded.

"Stay?"

"I will" he murmured. /

Arms were around him in an instant. Not just any arms, not restraining holds and no nurses were touching him. Before Harry knew what was happening Dad had him crushed in a hug, his hot face was pressed down to the man's chest, Harry had no choice but to breath in the familiar scent and cried with relief.
He would've called himself a wimp for crying all the time now, but after that nasty nightmare and everything that had happened, he was just so /glad/ that he was there, being cradled like a baby.

"It's okay, it's over shhhhh.....shhhhh...." it worked like a charm, a fresh blanket was draped over him and Dad's hand brushed up to his head, the child didn't flinch at the touch but leant into it as if he would in the past.

He was warm, he was in his dad's embrace and he could care less if he smelled like piss, or care about the fact that he supposedly hated his Dad. Dad could never hate Harry, he knew that, Dad would never be /them/. Harry will always regret comparing his dad to them, Dad would always love him no matter how ugly or freakish he was, Dad loved him. Harry heard the man say the same things as he thought them, pressing random kisses to his head or rubbing his back.

"It's okay...Dad's here..." the tone reminded him of not long ago when they were in the car.

Dad would never elope with Ja...Janet if he knew what she had done to Harry, Dad was smart, Dad knew what he was doing, he would neve willingly hurt him... Like a child, Harry scooted closer to the man and sniffled.

"Just a nightmare. Dreams can't hurt us, remember? Dreams can't hurt us."

It was just like the old times, when he was six and he cried after a storm, or when he was seven and he woke up drenched in sweat after a nightmare, when he was eleven and Dad came back to him even at the expense of his own job.

Why would his dad betray him then? His mind conflicted and he had no answers. All he knew was that, everything was going to be fine, when Dad was with him like this...

"Harry? Harry can you talk?"

Of course he could, he wasn't that messed up yet.

"Yes." he answered back in a small voice.

Dad shifted beneath him and pulled his head closer. "I'm sorry." but Harry had a feeling he wasn't talking about Janet.

It wasn't like the one back at the hospital, it felt more real, more touchy Feely, more like something his /dad/ would say, and Harry found himself not really affected by that. His tears had dried long ago.

"Shhh..."

He really didn't care about it either, all he wanted to do now, was to just lay there and either go back to sleep, or listen to his dad talk until he went to sleep. Dad didn't sing him lullabies or never read him stories (long story), no, Dad talked.
He could talk about anything, it didn't matter what he said, Harry never really paid attention, but it helped. It helped every time.

"Talk." he muttered, his voice hoarse and his ears firmly pressed to the man's chest, listening to the unsteady heartbeat beneath his head. Dad shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position for Harry and leaned back. He immediately started as if completely expecting this and there was nothing amiss in Harry's abrupt change of behavior.

"I was talking with your healer a few hours back, he said you be fine to leave in two or three days, he said that everything is going on without a hitch and you be alright again, I already brewed you some balm and some potions I left at home, I..." Dad rambled on, and occasionally paused for a sigh.

"I bought new frames for your glasses, but we have to buy you another set, I would have but I'm too busy right now child. I was busy, I swear that it was important, I didn't want to leave you. I would never leave you." Harry nodded for the man to continue, feeling considerably lighter than he would admit.

"I was scared. I wanted to tell you the truth, Harry I swear I did and I will from now on, I swear that. All those nights I went out? You remember those? J...Janet and I had to renew the slight glamour on her body every night, it took time and she couldn't do it by herself... So we... We left at nights, altered the charm and sneaked back. I never left on purpose, I wanted to protect you."

If Harry had hair, Dad would have smoothed it out, kneading his fingers and stroking his unruly black mess, but he didn't. That didn't stop dad though.
Harry closed his eyes, too tired to react wildly to the revealations. "Tell me more?"

"Janet's grandfather had passed away when she was eight. We never delayed our holiday because of that or that wasn't the reason why I was so cross with you... She... She told me about her true identity when we were on our way back. I was shocked, I knew that she had some distant relation to... To them, but I didn't know that she knew. We stalled a few days, we fought. Actually we fought a lot, and I even threatened to reveal her to the ministry, but then she told me something."

Dad took a rest to pick up his wand, with a flick Harry felt something cool brush over his legs and realized with a flush, that Dad had charmed him clean. He was too stunned to really feel ashamed, his breathing slowly returned back to normal and he opened his eyes slightly to see Dad glaring at something. Harry decided that Dad wasn't going to bring it up now. But cringed all the same as he vaguely thought about this new and embarrassing nightly habit.

"What did she say?" he asked, feeling oddly content and at ease though, Dad's attention snapped back to him, the expression on his face softened.

"She said there's more to it. I asked what could possibly matter now, and she told me that.... She told me that, this wasn't the first time she saw you. She said that you were too little to remember and that something happened, that she had no choice, I didn't understand at first, I didn't even believe her of course. But then she showed me, she let me in her mind..."

That didn't make any sense to him, what could possibly prevent Dad from revealing her? It had to be something big, but how big? How big to over come something as serious and as sinful as abuse? What could it possibly be?

"I can't explain it to you. I'm sorry, but it's not my story to tell, she will show you though, if you let us. Do you remember the headmaster's pensive? I can arrange it now if you want..."

Harry cut the rambling off. "Did it worth it?" then he frowned, that wasn't the right question, what Harry really wanted to know was, did it worth /him/?

"I will let you be the judge of that. Are you better now?" another side glance at his face.

"I want more." more of everything, he wanted the arms around his aching hands to be tighter, to Dad to smell more like ginger, or maybe he wanted to know more about Janet. This sudden calmness and curiosity both terrified and intrigued him.

Dad sighed as if expecting his answer, and stayed put for a few seconds to come up with something to say.

"I never meant to hurt you. I didn't want to hit you that night you know, I know it's unrelated, but when they brought you here... It was all I could think about. I wasn't even angry at you, I was... I was terrified, that you would find out, that maybe if you did... /Now/ you do../this/" he gestured around the room.

"Would happen, and... if there is anything I regret more than not telling you was hitting you that night. And I know it doesn't justify what I did at all. Merlin.. The bruise I left..." Harry shook his head.

"That wasn't you." he whispered and felt Dad's chest blanch underneath his head.

"You didn't hit hard enough to leave a bruise. I did." he rubbed his left cheek, as if still feeling the familiar sting. This was the first time he had confessed to something in their nightly talks Harry found it oddly relieving.

Dad however, stiffened. "What?" the tone was careful and controlled, hardly containg the indignation and rage.

Harry huffed out a rattled breath, but didn't dare open his eyes. "I pinched myself in the barn, right before I... Started counting." that night seemed ages ago, it felt like that it had happened in another life and not only a month back, Harry shuddered.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded angrily.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he shot back without a flinch.

Dad maneuvered him out of the blankets and looked at him in the eye, Harry stiffened. This was unusual, Dad never used to look at him when they 'talked' at nights. This was the rule, context didn't matter as long as he got distracted, Harry hadn't judged Dad so far because he hadn't been in depth of Dad's sorrowful speech. Dad had no right to do this.

He never looked at him when he was seven, when the potion master admitted to stealing Harry's chocolate bar out of hunger, or when he confessed to being dubious about his job, about his first potion class, Dad confessed about everything in those nights. And Harry never judged.
Even though their talks didn't happen that often, five times tops before this, Harry felt better every time. Most of the times he was too drowsy or scared to really listen to his dad or really do much of anything besides listen to the man until he fell asleep, and the one time he did pay attention there weren't any cringe worthy things to say.

It had been playful, innocent. Not like this.

"Did you do it on purpose? Is that why you did it? Everything aside... Is this serious?" Dad looked so disturbed and worn out by this new revelation that Harry despite being angry and still out of sorts, felt a little bad for him.

"No. I did it once, that was it. I'm not some creep Dad... It actually hurt a lot." it was the truth, the pinch hurt something fierce and it almost brought tears to his eyes, but that was kind of the point then. To punish himself.

"Promise you will never do it again."

"You promised to never lie to me." he wasn't being spiteful. Not at all, Harry was merely stating that promises were never really a sure thing, people broke and altered their own words all the time.

"We will talk about this when you're better. I can't... I can't deal with this now." Harry flipped, feeling the pang of hurt and fear to suddenly flare again.

"You can't deal with /this/? What is /this/?!" he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be angry or sympathetic. All things aside, he had put his Dad through absolute hell this past few years, the man looked like he was fifty not thirty seven.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, clam down Harry, I know that you don't feel like I'm the best parent figure right now, but... But I can't oversee something like that."
Dad's reassuring hand was on his head, a little colder than his scalp and more sweaty.

"I didn't do it for the fun of it. It only happened once." Harry grumbled, it wasn't like Dad had any right to say those things either, all things considered the man was a direct cause in his current situation after all.

"Are you tired now? do you feel like you can sleep on your own?"

"Aren't you going to tell me something else?"

Dad furrowed, his glance ghosted around the room and back to Harry before he nodded his head, his hand traveling down Hart's cheek firmly, as if checking for the said bruise. Harry batted the hand away, he was already feeling bad, he didn't need Dad to add up to it. Another shiver went down his spine, the nightmare brushed over his conscious before he pushed it away.

James had kicked the same spot on his face.

"I don't know how am I supposed to fix this." the man admitted, snaking his hand around Harry's shoulders in a side hug. The gryffindor could almost grasp the same desperation.

Harry frowned and gulped. "Is it too much?"

"It's not you, Harry I swear. It's never about you."

" I don't want you to get involved now, I love you and I'm sorry, that this happened, merlin knows I curse myself everyday for what happened to you..I never wanted you to get burned or find out the truth like this, and it's okay, I promise it'd be okay. I will never let anyone hurt you, including myself. Harry... I..." he trailed off and closed his eyes, drawing Harry closer, the child was too tired to protest as they both leaned back against the headboard. Just like old times.

"I'm still mad at you, and I'm not forgiving you." but I really want to, and I'm already feeling so bad for it. What was wrong with him?! How could he do this to himself again?!! Letting himself get hurt like this? What if Dad is lying? What if Dad is about to leave?

"I'm just talking to you, because I wanted to. Don't... Don't mistake this as forgiveness. Or because you think that I think your actions were justified. " he hesitated for a beat."Dad."

The man released a long held breath, pure mirth and relief were hidden behind his trained eyes, but Harry saw right through them with a clenching heart.

"I want to sleep now." the order was clear, Dad was to remain with him. For now.

Dad nodded slowly, his disheveled appearances revealed his utter exhaustion as he did.

"Will you ever...?" Harry could tell that Dad held back, but didn't push, he was still drowsy and too drugged to start yelling again. He wanted to say it was too soon, but had no control of what he said next.

"I don't know." I already did.

Even though he didn't know why.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


"Dad!" the auburn haired boy called out from above and James looked up unexpectedly. Having not expected his son to be flying out so late.

"Aiden." he plastered a genuine smile on his face and embraced the racing boy in his arms. Caging the child James caught his broom and scuffled the red messy locks.

"What you doing out so late buddy?" James frowned, Lily usually didn't let their son stay out so late in the evening, it was eight forty. Almost nine.

"Mom said I could stay out a little late tonight. I got an A pass from Professor dotty this morning."

James tried to hide his grin with a cough. "Bambi, come on, what did I tell you about not naming your teachers?"

"It's not like they're actually offensive Dad. I think he secretly likes it." the boy pointed out and wiggled his way out of James' arms. The two made their way back to the Manor as lazily as possible, one filled with pride and joy and the other squirming with hidden rage and suppressed guilt.

"You go and put your broom away. Your mom would slaughter us both if you come at the table with that." the man nodded at the firebolt and ruffled Aiden's sweat coated hair before turning away and heading for his office. Lily aught to be there and she better have some answers.

"Care to tell me what is this all about?" he drawled as soon as the door was slammed shut. Lily barely looked up from her book.

"Do you have any particular event in mind?" she answered distractedly and raised her eyebrows.

"It's almost nine and Aiden was still flying out in the field, at least send out a house elf next time." he barked back bitterly.

She sighed and snapped her book shut with a loud thud.

"I had to get him out of the house. Our lawyer came by and he isn't exactly the quietest person."

"What did he say?"

She hummed. "Just a general browsing on the boy's history ever since he was adopted, some of the details were rather gory, I couldn't let Aiden overhear. The file is on the desk."

James scoffed." A silencing charm would've been more sufficient. " she's such an idiot sometimes. He savagely thought and snatched the folder on his way to the couch.

The crackling fireplace was the only source of light, and James could barely make out Lily's stiffened posture behind her old oak desk, bent over a stack of parchment.

She looked up, disgruntled and exasperated both at her husband and the lawyer.

"Why are we taking the boy back? We already have everything James. Call me a fool but I can tell that you most definitely don't want him neither." they both shuddered, the memory of the boy was forbidding to the both of them.

He was the reason for every mishap, or argument they had thus far, Harry was a mistake and they both knew it. The both knew that the freak they created was the reason they were in this mess in the first place. The reason why they fled the country and their name got dragged into the mud. Well both him and her scum of a sister, Janet. She sneered, that filth of a woman just about ruined everything they had rooted for, she was even worse than Petunia. At least that horse faced idiot was compliant.

"I need my influence back in the ministry. The boy reeks of raw magic, some say he's more powerful than Dumbledore himself, we need him back even if it's only for a while. Just imagine the power." James said, he cast a lumos and drifted through the folder, his eyes passing on the spitting image of his younger self. He leered.

"It's not that I don't agree with you, we shouldn't have listened to that bitch, but... But have you seen the pictures James?! The boy looks... Deranged." she said incredulously and James winced.

"There is nothing a glamour can't fix Lils, don't let his looks repel you. I mean..."He chuckled in amazement." Look at this, he battled a bloody basilisk at the age of twelve! Who cares about a disfigured face? This is more than fucking impressing, this... This is raw power. "

"We shouldn't have dumped him in the first place. But could you really blame me for not liking him? He was always so... So freaky and quiet and he acted like a squib..." she shuddered again, memories rushed to the front of her mind. She couldn't have the boy back with them, the feak terrified and disgusted both her and James /without/ magic to the point that they had to leave him in a dump. Lily wasn't sure she could deal with /that/ again.

"The past is the past Lily. It's future that counts. Even if we don't get him back, we can still get our revenge from Snivelous and your sister."

"...Half sister. " James waved her off with a smug grin.

"Not the point Lily. By bringing Harry to the court we'll not only get the boy, and the press but we certainly can ruin Paddy and our dear Moony over once it's all over. It's a win-win either way."

Lily shook her head dubiously.

"And if we really get him back? What am I supposed to do with him?" she asked, grasping her quill ina desperate manner.

James shrugeed."Nothing, he's not five anymore Lily, /when/ we get him, we can have our glory and name back, and the name 'Potter' wouldn't be slandered any longer. Him? he can just live and look after himself as he always did."

"That's it James? The lawyer said the charges against us sounded very deceiving... If we lose..." she crossed her arms and shrugged helplessly. She did /not/ fancy a life in azkaban. Specially not over /him/.



James smirked and closed the folder with a snap. "We won't. If anything, Snape should be the one shivering under his bed right now. If we pull this off, then that Bastard and his bitch can spend the rest of their miserable lives where they belong. With the Demnetors." he gave her a chaste kiss and threw the file back on the desk.

the red head still furrowed. "Just remember James, we can't let the confidence get to our heads. Janet is such a sneaky little bitch, she and Snape are always one step ahead. And just so you know.... If... If we get /him/ back, I want him kept on a leash, I won't have him cause havoc in our home again and keep him as far as away from us as it gets." she stood, book in hands, her long red hair flwoing down her back as she did.

James's eyes glinted in vicious amusement. "He won't fit in a cupboard anymore."

Lily glared daggers and shrugged. "Then do something about it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

/"Do you want to draw?" Severus carefully set Harry's pencils down on the table, wary and reluctant ever since Harry's first outburst.

Severus should have seen it coming, he guiltily admits that he should have, the boy was seven after all, and had lived with the potion master for nearly a year now, Harry was bound to trust Severus enough to fuss and throw temper tantrums as other children did.

Still, the topic was what made him feel a little squeamish. His guts churned as he eyed the cursed pencils rolling on the parchment and he pursed his lips tightly, willing his glance back to his son.

"Harry?" he interrupted the child's quiet conversation with his toy, and Harry nodded with a pouty look before burying his face in Rabbity's long plush ears. Severus frowned but tried to ease down his concerns with mental encouragement. He's just angry, too angry and grudging for a child his age, but he's just angry. He smoothed out his features as Harry obediently made his way to the table.

Severus felt ashamed. "Do you want to draw?" he feared that the child might not even touch the coloring book after what happened yesterday, but didn't want to force him into it either.

Harry nodded nonchalantly and picked up his orange pencil with ease. Severus swallowed, that was the only pen he hadn't touched. He realized and stood.
He had been busy this last few weeks, brewing potions, giving out delayed orders, and finishing his journal. He had been so busy that he barely knew his hand from the knife he had been chopping ingredients with. Exhausted deep down to his bones.

Harry had uncharacteristically left his drawing equipment all scattered in their living room last night after going off to sleep, Severus saw the mess, and instead of berating Harry or telling him to clean up after himself, had cleaned it up himself, put all of the pencils back in their case (except the orange one), put the coloring book away and organized the child's parchment and drawings, quite proud of himself for his tact and parental affection.

He winced. Harry had not been glad at all. The boy took one look around the room and then at his stuff packed neatly near the fireplace and had burst into tears. This was no crocodile tears or fussing out of fatigue. The tears were one hundred percent genuine, and so was the counting that followed.
Then, as if in a trance, Harry ate his breakfast and crashed on the couch with his stuffed rabbit, mournfully gazing at the ground.

Severus apologized for /hours/, asked what was wrong and only got one answer.

"You touched /my/ pencils." Severus was left speechless, dumbfounded in his kitchen as Harry guiltily chewed on his lips.

"Alright, I...." he blinked and found himself not quite sure of what to say. Swallowing, the inexperienced father had sighed and then drew Harry in a firm hug.

"I'm really sorry baby boy, okay? I didn't mean to..."

A sudden idea struck him. " What about, you draw with these today and then we'll see if we can buy you a new case?" it was the last thing he wanted to do, not that he didn't want to buy things for his son, but he also didn't want Harry to get spoiled, he had to learn how to adjust to his new life eventually.
But he's only seven. His mind argued back, and he yielded.

"I liked this one." Harry wiggled free out of his embrace and looked on the verge of tears again. Severus cleared his throat and stepped back.

"Then you have no problem using them. Correct?" Harry furrowed, wringing the hem of his shirt.

"You touched them." the tone was not accusing and more of a matter of fact tone Harry rarely used.

"Because, you had left them in the living room Harry. I just tidied up a bit. They're all fine, see?" afraid to agitate Harry even farther, the potion master just pointed at the red one in his son's hand, and nodded his head.

Harry pouted his lips, uncertainty shining in his eyes. "What is so wrong about touching your pencils Harry? I touch your other stuff all the time."

"But they're mine."

"Yes Harry, I know they're yours, and I'm not about to take them away from you. I just cleaned up the living room last night and your pencils were in the way."
Harry said naught. Perhaps that was Severus's first mistake, no matter the child's age, silence could never be a good thing when you have a child around somewhere.
He was right of course, the proof came when his wand /and/ his son went missing at the same time.

Severus narrowed his eyes, hoping to merlin that his wand and Harry weren't in the same place somewhere, because then God helps him, if Harry somehow accidentally hurt himself with the wand, Severus would give him the naughty corner for a whole day.

"Harry!" he called around the house, marvelling over the fact that how a seven year old could hide in such a small and open house. Their home was practically windows and walls with few furniture to mess around whatsoever. Since the potion master hated knick knacks and even the photographs were all in the album, with only two over the mantel, that left nothing except the two couches and the lovesit, none fit for a hiding place.

Where could he possibly hide?

"Harry? Come out right now, Daddy will forgive you if you come out now, okay?" simultaneously the young and unexperienced father looked around the ground for his missing wand.

After checking the bathrooms and the yard, Severus was getting really worried, he rushed back to the living room and thought about checking the rooms again.
His eyes went over the ground and he stopped dead on his tracks. The orange pencil was missing.

Realization dawned on him and he heaved a long sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus noticed that he had been looking for Harry for over an hour now, having checked the woods and his labs aside from the whole house.

Harry certainly knew how to plot a good revenge, didn't he?

He made sure to make a lot of noise as he descended up the stairs and to Harry's room.

Sure enough, Harry was squashed under his bed ( Severus had no idea how) with his wand and the orange pencil in one hand and his toy in the other.

"Harry?! What are you doing under the bed?!" /