“Fred, off!” Mrs Weasley said with a sharp jerk of her thumb. “Tables are for dishes, not feet!”

“Catch me!” Fred shouted as he leapt from the table and collided with George, sending the two tumbling to the ground. Laughter erupted as Mrs Weasley helped them both up and searched them over for bumps and bruises.

Harry clutched his stuffed doe close. If he so much as thought of walking on one of Aunt Petunia’s tables, she would’ve screamed and locked him in his cupboard for a week.

He searched over the cramped, thin dining room in search of one of the cupboards he spied while he and Severus visited Mrs Weasley’s house yesterday. He hadn’t been able to look inside and see what he might be punished with when they’d toured the room and it still bothered him.

If anyone deserved to know what his potential punishments would be, it was Harry.

It wasn’t normal to put kids in cupboards though. Dudley had never been put into one when he’d thrown a tantrum, and he’d had meltdowns far more often than Harry.

Maybe he’d never been put into the cupboard because Harry already slept in it?

No, Harry knew well enough that Aunt Petunia would never have put Dudley in the cupboard no matter how badly behaved he’d been. She loved him.

“Mummy!” A high pitched shout echoed from several flights above them. “Mummy, tell Percy to get out of my room!”

“Get out of Ronnie’s room, Percy!” Mrs Weasley distractedly shouted back.

George fussed beneath his mum’s careful gaze before Fred gave Harry a mischievous look and tipped a bowl of fruit. Apples and oranges scattered over the worn wooden floor and rolled beneath the table, mismatched chairs and tightly packed antique cabinets, giving Fred and George the opportunity to escape down a crooked doorway.

Harry idly wondered if Mrs Weasley found her chairs at the same place Severus found his lights.

“I’m not your maid!” Mrs Weasley shouted after the two of them. “You two can do the washing up this evening for that!” She wrinkled her nose and bent over, grabbing the bowl and righting it before waving her wand in a graceful arc. The fallen fruit sailed back into the bowl as she stepped around the dining room, quickly plucking more out of place items from where they’d been discarded and sending them on their way, presumably back to where they’d belonged, though Harry couldn’t be sure.

“Oh! Harry dear,” She said, jerking to a stop before nearly bumping into him. Harry wondered if she’d forgotten he’d arrived. “They’re a rambunctious bunch and they’re ever so loving, but they’re usually more well behaved than this.” She smiled.

Harry’s grip on his stuffed doe tightened again. Minnie had only dropped him off ten minutes ago, but he wished she’d return and take him back to Severus’s quiet, safe flat.

He’d only be here for several hours today, however, that wouldn’t be how every day would go.

Minnie called it a trial run.

“It’s been nothing but rain for three days and with this lot,” She clicked her tongue. “That just won’t do. I’m sure you understand.”

Harry smiled weakly and hoped she wouldn’t think of his silence as rude.

He hadn’t the slightest clue what she was talking about though. It rained at Privet Drive just as it rained everywhere else, but the rain only gave Dudley more time to play his video games and watch the telly. The Dursley’s enjoyed rainy days more than sunny ones. Harry couldn’t speak to his own opinion on the weather, as he often had chores to complete outdoors regardless of the weather.

“They just need a bit of outdoor time, that's all.” Mrs Weasley said. “This house can’t handle another rainy day.” She added with an exhausted laugh as she tucked a curl behind her ear. “Are you excited to start your lessons?”

Harry blinked nervously at her.

A prickly fear raced up his back and he worried she’d think of him as problematic and destructive the same way his previous teacher, Mrs Clarke had. Mrs Weasley seemed like a very nice woman. Minnie had said more than one kind thing about her, though Severus hadn’t shared the sentiment. Harry wished he knew why.

He nodded slowly and tried to put on a friendly face.

“Excellent,” Mrs Weasley said before guiding him toward a chair. “Now, you sit right here,” She said, placing a hand on his back and guiding him toward one of the chairs. “And I’ll go nab Ginny and Ron and we can begin practicing our letters.”

She skirted the chairs and slipped down the same crooked doorway Fred and George had disappeared down.

Harry settled into his chair and tried to remind himself of how much kinder Mrs Weasley had been than Mrs Clarke. The dining room was a nice place to study as well, at least, it was much less drafty than his old classroom and better still, Dudley couldn’t come and distract Harry by knocking his glasses off, stealing his pencils, or ripping up his work. It didn’t seem likely that either Ron or Ginny would do any of those things either, as Harry had played with them for a short while yesterday and they’d been quite friendly.

He supposed they could easily turn nasty behind Mrs Weasley’s back, but if he tried to be friendly and kind himself, maybe they would stay nice?

“Now, what are the rules, you two?” Mrs Weasley whispered from somewhere nearby.

Harry twisted in his chair and looked toward the sound. The house felt too cramped and full to be able to hear anyone whisper in, to say nothing of how loud Mrs Weasley’s kids were.

“No staring at his scar.” Ginny whispered back.

“Don’t bring up You-Know-Who or his mum and dad.” Ron added with a sniff.

Harry sank lower into his chair and swallowed heavily. Minnie explained what truly happened to his mum and dad several days ago. She’d shown him pictures of his parents, which he’d never seen before, and followed it up with as many stories Harry could pry out of her, though it hadn’t made him feel much better.

Bitterness still clung to him at how frightening Voldemort had made his name out to be, but despite his cruel intentions, Harry couldn’t bring himself to call him, You-Know-Who.

In Minnie’s explanation, neither of Harry’s parents had been frightened of Voldemort’s name either.

They hadn’t run away when he’d attacked them. Minnie said it was very likely they’d fought back as well. Harry wanted more people to be proud of them, rather than scared of a dead murderer and his name.

All the same, he’d dreamt of a burst of green light and a high laugh that very same night, and hidden in his closet until Severus found him. The two of them read several stories and Severus even charmed Harry’s doe to glow like a night light afterwards.

He hadn’t pushed Harry to explain why he’d hidden in the closet, for which, Harry couldn’t decide if he was thankful or not.

Mrs Weasley hummed, bringing Harry back to the present. “What else?”

“No pranks?” Ginny asked.

“That’s always a rule, lovey.” Mrs Weasley said.

“Right, er, don’t ask if he remembers it.” Ron said.

“Good.” Mrs Weasley said in a fierce voice. “You will treat that child just as you treat Neville or Luna.”

“Ok, Mummy.” Ginny said as Ron gave an agreeable grunt.

“Alright, in you go.” Mrs Weasley said before the three of them spilled into the dining room. Each hummed quiet ‘hello’s’ to Harry before Ron fell into a seat beside Harry and Ginny took one across from them.

Ginny twirled a bright red lock of hair around one of her fingers as her eyes danced over the pots and plants decorating the tops of the cabinets with an odd, blank look. She idly fixed the collar on her green knit jumper before her gaze swung down and drifted past Harry’s forehead in a practiced glance.

Harry pressed his fringe to his forehead and remembered the way the two men in the grocery store gawked at him. Severus had warned him about the way people would stare, though Harry hadn’t believed him. He couldn’t see what he’d done that was so special. He’d been a one year old, and if he’d truly been able to stop a murderer, how come he hadn’t been able to stop Aunt Petunia when she’d withheld food from him, or Uncle Vernon when he locked him in the cupboard?

“Hey, Harry,” Ron whispered after checking to see if his mum could hear. Mrs Weasley hummed as she opened and closed the drawers on a squeaky hoosier cabinet. “Do you really live with Snape?”

Harry blinked dumbly at Ron before remembering Snape was Severus’s last name. “Yeah.”

“Really?” Ron asked. “‘Cause my brother’s, Bill and Charlie, are at Hogwarts right now and they say he’s really tough.”

“He gives them lotsa homework.” Ginny said as she leant forward, eager to join them in their whispered conversation. “And he said he’d make Charlie’s erm, Charlie’s friend’s, er, his toad sick.”

“He told Bill he could kill him and make it look like an accident.” Ron added with raised eyebrows.

Harry knew how uncomfortable Severus could be with some people, and given how Harry’d sworn to be less frightened of Severus in the future, he could easily see why others would be scared of him, but Harry was positive Severus would never poison animals or murder students.

“Sometimes he acts awkwardly?” Harry said with a nervous shrug.

“Awkwardly?” Ginny asked.

“Mean’s weird.” Ron said quickly.

“Oh,” Ginny said. “I dunno, awkwardly is for, erm, for Percy.” She nodded. “He’s awkwardly about his tea cups.” She shrugged. “He never has tea parties.”

“No, just ‘awkward’, you don’t add the ‘ly’ bit at the end of that word.” Ron said as he shook his head ‘no’.

“But you did!” Ginny said with a confused look.

“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause it worked there. Percy collects old tea cups.” Ron side-eyed Harry as he spoke. “Anyway, they say Snape always has something mean to say.”

“He’s nice.” Harry said firmly. He held up his stuffed doe for Ginny and Ron to see. “He made me this.”

Ginny’s eyes widened and an envious look washed over her face. “She’s lovely.”

“Alright you three,” Mrs Weasley said as she slipped back into the dining room. “I have a counting game for you.” She placed differing amounts of brightly coloured blocks before them. “I want you three to build a tower with these, and count how many you use, alright?”

She sat next to Ginny and helped them keep track of how many they stacked together and even went as far as to remind them of how many they lost when the towers fell.

Harry enjoyed the task, but struggled to accept that his lesson was truly this easy. Mrs Clarke hadn’t ever made maths into a game, nor had she ever offered to help Harry when he’d struggled to name a number or guess it’s value.

He found himself waiting for everything to be stolen out from under him.

Aunt Petunia would come through the door any moment now. She’d bring Dudley and make Harry give him Harry’s seat at the table. She’d probably ask him why he’d ever thought any of this could possibly be for him, considering how awful she always thought he was.

They played several more maths games, but despite how long they played, Aunt Petunia never arrived.

Once it became clear that maths no longer held their attention, Mrs Weasley switched to history.

Harry was dearly thankful for her choice of discussion, as it had nothing to do with Voldemort, or the recent war. In fact, she seemed determined to ask them about events that couldn’t even touch the topic, which meant they spent quite a bit of time talking about dinosaurs and the magical beasts who lived at that time.

They shared a quick snack after their history lesson, something Harry still needed to get used to, before moving onto reading and writing.

Mrs Weasley set a short piece of parchment before each of them, along with small jars of ink and several quills. “I’ve written out some sentences here,” Her eyes flickered between the three of them. “Nice, short words for you, and I want you to read and copy them on your own parchment. Take your time, there’s no need to rush.”

“Can we play the, the erm, the sweets award game?” Ginny asked as she gave her list of words a concerned look.

“You just finished your snack, dear,” Mrs Weasleys said with a laugh. “If you’d like some juice as a reward, I’ll pour you some after you finish your work. I’m going to go get Fred, George, and Percy down here for their own lessons.”

Ginny groaned and began to slowly pick through her work.

Harry twisted to look at his own work, and found that while the words were short, they were highly confusing. He didn’t recognize many of them, and several had odd collections of letters. He was sure ‘G’ and ‘N’ didn’t make any sense together, to say nothing of the word it belonged to, ‘gnomes’.

A sour, horrible feeling dropped into his stomach at the sentences before him though. Harry’s vocabulary had grown since staying with Severus, but not quite this much!

His fingers tightened over his stuffed doe.

“Harry,” Ron whispered as he leant close. “D’you know any of these?”

“Shh, Ron!” Ginny hissed. “No cheating!”

Ron wrinkled his nose and glared at her. “I’m not cheating, I only asked—”

“Mummy said to take your time.” Ginny said. “It’s not hard.”

“Well maybe yours isn't, but you always get easy sentences don’t you?!” Ron said before sharply jerking his chair nearer to Harry. “Mummy goes easy on her.” He said to Harry, attempting and failing to keep his voice quiet.

Ginny’s cheeks flushed a bright red. “She does not!”

Harry shivered and tried to guess at what sort of trouble he’d get into if Mrs Weasley came into the dining room and found he hadn’t done his work.

He looked down and made a renewed effort to make his way through the first word. After sounding it out in his head, he came up with the word, ‘imps’, but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t know any word it could’ve been either.

The urge to preemptively hide in the cupboard rushed through him.

He still didn’t know if Aunt Petunia had brought up his cupboard to Severus, or if in turn, Severus brought it up to Mrs Weasley. Maybe they were waiting until he truly messed up to lock him inside?

He grabbed a quill and slowly tried to copy the sentence onto the space below. Even if he didn’t know any of the words, he would have them written.

Writing the words was as difficult as reading them though! The quill slipped from his grip every few seconds and dribbled ink across the parchment, soaking the few shaky lines he’d managed to reproduce.

Frustration gnawed at him, but he swallowed it down and tried to continue writing.

Severus told Harry to do well in his lessons. He’d said so after they’d toured Mrs Weasley’s house and this morning over breakfast.

No one cared about his marks when he lived with the Dursleys and Harry desperately wanted to show Severus how seriously he took his schoolwork.

Harry didn’t know what would happen if he received bad marks. Aside from one clear warning about not taking anything in the medicine cabinets without help, solely because of the dangerous effects the potions could cause, Severus hadn’t discussed any consequences for failure.

“How are you coming along, Harry dear?” Mrs Weasley asked, startling Harry from his thoughts.

“Erm,” Harry stammered as he looked up at her. He quickly noticed that the rest of her kids had joined them and were now working on their own lessons.

“Are any words giving you trouble?” She asked.

“They’re giving me trouble.” Ron muttered from Harry’s left.

“I’ll be over to help you in a second, Ronnie.”

Anxieties tangled around Harry’s thoughts. He disliked Mrs Weasley offering to help him before Ron, and worried if he should offer to let Ron go first. Aunt Petunia never helped Harry before Dudley, and if anyone ever offered Harry help, he knew to let Dudley go first.

Harry didn’t want to cause trouble, not when Mrs Weasley had already created a set of rules for how Ron and Ginny should act around him.

He wondered if she’d given the same rules to Fred, George, and Percy.

Maybe he should’ve invited Percy to go first, as he was the eldest.

Letting Dudley go first often worked to Harry’s advantage as well, because he usually found a solution to whatever troubled him by watching Dudley.

Harry shook his head ‘no’ and hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

“Let me know if you need any help, alright?” Mrs Weasley said. She dropped a hand onto Harry’s shoulder and stepped over to Ron.

Harry quietly watched as Mrs Weasley spoke with Ron and learnt how he struggled with the words ‘fairies’ and ‘pixies’. He dearly wished he’d asked for help after hearing how easily Mrs Weasley helped him sound the words out.

What would Severus say if Harry failed at something on his first day of lessons?

The words seemed to jump over the parchment as Harry tried again to read the sentence. He skipped over the first few words and decided to focus on what remained, which he slowly sounded out to be, ‘live in my garden’, in the latter half of the sentence.

It didn’t do Harry any good to know where things lived when he didn’t know who it was doing the living.

What felt like hours later, Mrs Weasley came back around to check on their work.

“Excellent ‘b’ Ginny, don’t forget to cross your ‘t’ though—yes lovely, just like that.” She said, pointing toward a word on Ginny’s parchment. “Now let me see yours, Ronnie.”

Ron proudly displayed his parchment. The ink dropped down the page and dribbled over the table, but that didn’t deter him from smiling.

“Lovely work, dear, quite I nice ‘f’. And Harry?”

Harry blinked once at Mrs Weasley before nervously holding up his own work. He had less ink on his parchment, but his letters were multiple different sizes and he knew no one would truly have been able to read what he’d written.

“What a perfect ‘g’ you’ve written here,” Mrs Weasley said kindly. “Shall we try reading them now? They tell a story—”

A loud noise burst from down the hall and everyone looked toward the sound.

Mrs Weasley flipped her wrist over and checked the small watch she wore before tapping the table. “Just a mo’, I’ll check the floo.” She said before disappearing around the corner.

“Who d’you think is here?” Ginny asked.

“Snape, of course.” Percy said before pointing toward a lopsided clock on the wall. “It’s twelve, Snape’s got to take Harry back.”

Anxieties wove through Harry once more. He still didn’t know the first few words on his parchment, though he felt pleased to have heard he’d made a few letters correctly. Maybe Snape would accept the letters he managed to make as proof of his hard work?

George looked toward Harry before clicking his tongue. “That’s too bad mate, it was really nice knowing you.”

Harry’d forgotten about Severus’s terrible reputation. Ron and Ginny had asked him about it earlier, but the Severus Harry knew seemed vastly different from the one the Weasley’s knew.

“Too right. You can stop a dark lord, but no one stops Snape.” Fred said.

Harry blanched.

Percy gave Fred a fierce glare. “Mum said you weren’t allowed to talk about that.”

“Come off it,” George said before looking toward Harry. “It’s not like it was recent and you’re the same age as Ron.”

“And Ron still wets the bed when you two tell stories about You-Know-Who at night.” Percy sneered. “You shouldn’t bring up sensitive topics around people you don’t know.”

A bright blush burned around Ron’s ears. “I do not!”

“Some topics are bound to come up.” Fred said, speaking loudly over Ron.

Harry wasn’t sure what to say about Fred’s comment, but he knew Ron shouldn’t have been made to feel uncomfortable.

“That’s not nice.” Harry said firmly.

George paused and turned to look at Harry. “What I said?”

“What Percy said.” Harry clarified. “That’s not-it wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t tell other people’s secrets.”

Ron shared a small, thankful look with Harry, though his ears remained bright red.

“Noted.” Fred nodded before jabbing his pointer finger at Percy. “Apologize, Percy!”

Percy’s eyes narrowed on Fred, making Harry begin searching the room for the cupboard he’d spied earlier. He knew the look on his face too well, seeing as Dudley often narrowed his eyes similarly when he prepared to hit Harry.

“Percy—”

“I’m not apologizing! I was trying to make Harry feel better after you made him feel worse!”

“Me!” Fred gasped and shared a shocked look with George. Harry struggled to tell if it was genuine, but gave up after Percy began speaking again.

“Yes, you!” Percy said. “You brought that stuff up!”

“I brought it up to get it out of the way! We’re all thinking it, I’m just saying it.” Fred waved his hands at the space around them.

“Well don’t think about it!” Percy said through gritted teeth.

“It’s not like it wasn’t going to come out, and I’m dead curious.” George nodded. “D’you remember—”

Ron, somehow sensing the next question, tossed his ink pot and hit George square in the forehead.

George shouted and less than a second later Fred launched himself at Ron.

“Mummy!” Ginny screamed.

Harry dove beneath the table and slipped toward the cupboard. The door squealed as he tugged it open, but closed quickly enough.

It was blissfully dark inside.

He didn’t fancy exploring why he’d hidden in here so quickly, and wished fervently for his bubbly luck to come back. He didn’t want anyone to know about how he’d grown up in his cupboard, but the urge to hide inside them was too strong to ignore.

Harry clutched his doe close and hoped the fight would end soon. This day had ended horribly. Severus would think Harry started the fight and he’d send him back to Aunt Petunia. He’d take away his doe and stick him back in the cupboard beneath the stairs.

Dudley would go back to hitting him, and Uncle Vernon would give him hours of pointless chores.

There would be no more bedtime stories, or—

“What is going on!” Mrs Weasley’s sharp voice cut through the shouting. The cupboard door hardly muffled the sound. “I left you alone in here for less than a minute and this is how you behave?” She asked.

“No—no, it was Fred and George’s fault Mum!” Ron whinged.

“It was not!” Fred said loudly. “Ron threw his ink pot at George!”

“Where is Harry?” Severus’s soft voice swept over the room. Harry shivered at the frigid undertones lingering beneath his tone. Despite how quietly he spoke, he was somehow louder than either Fred or Ron.

“Er,” George stammered. “He’s, er.”

“He’s in here!” Ginny said, pulling the squealing door open once more. She smiled kindly at him before motioning for him to come out from inside.

“Oh,” Mrs Weasley hummed a sorrowful note. “Oh goodness, I’m so terribly sorry, Harry.”

“Excuse us.” Severus said as he held his hand out for Harry.

Harry shakily made his way over toward Snape and tried to think of any possible excuses that would keep him from landing back at the Dursleys.

Heavy breathing echoed around the room, and Harry took a brief moment to eye Ron and the others. Ron had scratches over his cheeks and ink all down his front. It looked as if he’d truly fought hard against his brothers for Harry, and Harry felt he should at least say ‘thank you’.

He silently berated himself for having hidden, rather than fighting back. Ron didn’t deserve to fight Harry’s battles.

He mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ at Ron, who gave him a firm nod.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Weasley.” Severus said.

“I’m terribly sorry again, Severus,” Mrs Weasley said.

“I’m sure your children feel similarly.” Severus said. He looked down his nose at the others and grimaced. “I’ll let you know soon, if Harry will be attending class tomorrow morning.”

“Of course.” Mrs Weasley said as she led them into her small, comfortable sitting room. She picked up a half knitted jumper and tidied up the toys and books that’d been forgotten. Harry, I’m—”

“Sorry,” Severus finished for her. “Terribly so.”

Harry flinched as he looked up at Severus. He acted as if they’d argued before, but that didn’t seem very likely. Perhaps Ron and Ginny had been right? Severus hadn’t been kind at all. There was no sign of his awkwardness either, as he’d spoken incisively, rather than with the short, aborted sentences he sometimes used around Harry.

He didn’t think Mrs Weasley deserved to be treated rudely, not after how kind she’d been to Harry.

“Erm,” Harry said quietly. “Thank you for having me, Mrs Weasley.”

Severus went rigid, and his fingers tightened around Harry’s hand as a small crease pinched his eyebrows.

“I had fun learning,” Harry started before realizing he might be about to bring up his own poor work from the last half hour. “About, erm—”

“Maths.” Severus said in an odd voice. “Mrs Weasley said you enjoyed maths.”

Harry nodded quickly. “Maths.”

He truly had liked maths, even if he hadn’t been great at it. Stacking blocks with Ron and Ginny had been fun. He worried whether or not Severus would ask Harry about how well he’d done with his reading and writing, but so far, that hadn’t happened.

Maybe Mrs Weasley already told him about how poorly Harry’d done?

Severus didn’t look angry with Harry though. It didn’t seem as if he wanted to send him back to the Dursleys either, or if he did, it didn’t make much sense for him to help Harry thank Mrs Weasley.

Harry tried to understand why Severus would flip between kindness and rudeness around the Weasleys.

Mrs Weasley gave Harry a soft smile and nodded. “I’m glad.”

Severus gave her a short nod before crouching down and pulling Harry up into his arms. Harry had travelled by floo several times since he’d arrived at Hogwarts and he knew better than to try to go through by himself.

“Good Afternoon, Mrs Weasley.” Severus said again.

Harry pinched his lips shut prematurely and tried to take as deep of a breath as he could.

Despite how much he disliked the floo, he quite liked it when Severus held him. He never dropped Harry accidentally, or dragged him around or acted like he had a nasty disease, which Aunt Petunia often did.

Severus had always been very careful with Harry.

A burst of bright green fire engulfed them as they spun through space. They were spat out on the dusty rug in Severus’s flat quicker than Harry anticipated, though never quite fast enough in his opinion.

Loose quills and scraps of paper caught on the last flickers from the floo and circled them before floating slowly to the plush, dark green carpet.

Harry wondered briefly if he should offer to tidy up.

Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have allowed for anything that didn’t belong on the ground, to lay on the ground for more than a moment. She’d have snapped her fingers at Harry until he trailed behind her with a bin or basket and collected whatever had been left behind.

Severus shook the ash from his cloak and Harry’s hair. “What happened to start the fight?” He asked as he set Harry back on the ground.

“Erm,” Harry stammered and pulled his doe closer. He didn’t know how honest Ron and his brothers would be when Mrs Weasley asked them about it, and he didn’t want to get them into trouble despite how they’d behaved. “I dunno.”

Severus blinked slowly at Harry and his arms twitched, almost as if he wanted to cross them, but he kept them still at his sides instead.

“Why did you hide in the cupboard?” Severus asked.

Harry pushed down a shudder as his heart began to race. Aunt Petunia almost certainly told Severus about Harry’s cupboard.

Severus wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

“Had I known you were uncomfortable, I would’ve removed you earlier.” Severus said.

Harry blanched. He didn’t want Severus to think Mrs Weasley had just allowed her children to argue the entire time he’d been there. He didn’t want Severus to think Harry’d made everyone uncomfortable either!

“They didn’t fight before—not before then.”

A single, thin black eyebrow rose. “And after?”

“George—” Harry started before clamping his mouth shut. He wouldn’t be the reason any of the Weasley’s wound up in trouble. He’d been made into a scapegoat by Dudley more often than not, and he couldn’t bear to blame others when he knew what punishments they might receive.

Severus inhaled slowly and seemed determined to push aside his usual, rigid awkwardness. He slowly lowered himself to Harry’s height and looked him in the eye. “It is impossible to learn when fighting and shouting is a common occurrence.”

Harry shook his head wildly. “They were all really nice before then!”

“If they were so nice before, why would they suddenly change?”

Harry dropped his eyes to his shoes and swallowed heavily. He knew why they’d changed of course. Mrs Weasley wasn’t in the room, ready to catch any misbehaviour.

They were too curious about Voldemort to stay quiet.

Fred had a point when they’d said everyone had been thinking about it. Minnie warned Harry about how famous the story was. He should’ve believed her.

All he could remember was a laugh and bright green light.

Neither of those were pleasant details. He wanted to think of happy stories of his mum and dad, though he seemed to be the only one interested.

“They just wanted to know about what happened.” Harry said dully.

Severus waited patiently as Harry tried to organize his thoughts.

Exhaustion blanketed him. He found himself wishing he could hide back in his cupboard, despite how much he despised it. Life at the Dursleys made more sense than life with Severus. He knew of every potential consequence when he lived at Privet Drive, and he knew what everyone would say to, or about him.

“With my mum and dad.”

“How utterly like them.” Severus sneered. Harry felt his eyes widen at the venom Severus wove into his voice. “The moment you’re defenseless, they descend.” An ugly, hateful look washed over his face, though it died when his eyes fell on Harry once more.

“Ron tried to help.” Harry said as hugged his doe close and buried his face in it’s fur.

“Did he?” Severus asked. “Do you think his choice of response was appropriate?” He seemed to struggle as he made a determined effort to ignore his anger.

“It was bound to come up anyway.” Harry whispered. “Mrs Weasley gave them all these rules about how to act around me.”

Bad things always happened around Harry.

Severus sighed and sat fully on the floor with Harry.

“I didn’t want to start fights or give you any reason to take me back to the Dursleys.” Harry said quietly before brushing a hand over his eyes. “And I wanted you to know I tried my best as much as I could.”

The sitting room dropped into a heavy silence as Harry struggled to swallow back his tears.

There’d been too much activity today and it was hardly the afternoon. His time with the Weasley’s was chaotic and overwhelming, and he struggled to understand how to make himself feel any better.

Harry blinked through blurry tears and watched as Severus’s dark eyes softened and drifted beyond the room.

He wondered if Severus was thinking of his friend, the one who used to collect lights, as he often gave the same look when he talked about her.

Before meeting Severus, Harry hadn’t noticed the differences in certain expressions. He knew what it looked like when someone stared through him, as Uncle Vernon and Mrs Clarke, frequently did so. Severus didn’t look through Harry though. Something unhappy always creased Uncle Vernon and Mrs Clarke’s faces when they stared through Harry, but the same couldn’t be said for Severus.

Harry didn’t fully understand it, but he far preferred Severus’s distant looks over Uncle Vernon’s hateful ones.

“I won’t take you back to the Dursleys.” Severus said, without disturbing the room’s thick silence. “Ever.” He added as his eyes flickered back to life and he carefully held a hand out to Harry. “The worst punishment I would give you, would be to send you to your room.”

Harry stared at his hand for a long moment and tried to decide if Severus was being honest or not.

In the back of his mind, he tried to think of if Dudley had ever received that as a punishment, but he couldn’t remember it. Mrs Weasley had given Fred and George more washing up as a punishment, but Harry hadn’t seen if she’d followed through with it.

“I know,” Severus started slowly. “I know you did well.” He added in a soft voice. “I know you tried your hardest. Mrs Weasley was impressed with you, as am I.”

Harry tried to remember if anyone had ever said they were impressed by something he’d done before, but nothing came to mind. Aunt Petunia once nodded at towels he’d folded, rather than pointing out all the places he’d messed up. Harry had always tried to fold them exactly the same way, though he never quite succeeded.

“I want you to continue trying your best in your lessons.” Severus said. “And to avoid fights, just as you did this afternoon, however,” He paused and looked closely at Harry. “Rather than hiding, I would like you to find an adult.”

He reached out and grabbed Severus’s hand before being slowly tugged into a hug.

“I think we’re both in need of some quiet.” Severus said.

Harry nodded and relaxed against Severus’s shoulder. A jolt ran through Severus at the contact, forcing Harry to jerk backwards before a hand dropped gently over his back, keeping him still. Severus brushed past the misstep and slowly circled his large, ornate desk.

“Would you like to colour?” Severus asked as he looked over the clutter littering the desk.

Colouring sounded quite nice, though at the moment, Harry found himself wanting a break from everything.

“Or,” Severus picked through the thick rolls of parchment and tapped his long fingers over them. “You can sit with me and play with your doe?”

Harry nodded.

Severus tilted his head and sat down. He fussed with the scribbled over essays for several moments before falling into a rhythm and relaxing comfortably against the back of the chair.

He was unsure if he’d go back to Mrs Weasley’s in the morning tomorrow, but if he did, he was eager to hear how Ron and the others handled the fallout from the fight.

“Fifteen uses for dragon’s blood,” Severus said wryly. “Someone’s discovered three new uses, we’d best write the Daily Prophet.

The quiet room helped to clear Harry’s mind, but something clung to him and refused to let go.

“Erm, Severus?” Harry asked as he looked up at Severus.

Severus hummed.

“Can I write a word and you say it?”

Severus paused and handed Harry a quill with bright red ink.

Harry slowly managed to write the words ‘imp’ and ‘gnome’ on the wrinkled parchment. He hoped he’d spelled them correctly. Severus would have a difficult time guessing their meanings if he couldn’t read them.

“Magical pests,” Severus said as he pointed to the word ‘imp’. “This one is imp, and this one,” He pointed toward the second word. “Is gnome.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “They’re real?”

“They are. They’re not as common as other magical pests or insects, but if you live in magical areas, you’ll see them often enough.”

“Thank you.” Harry said.

Severus hummed again and scratched a slanted note next to one of the paragraphs within the essay.

The overwhelming morning began to drift to the back of his mind as he idly played with his doe and imagined all sorts of happy adventures for it.