“It’s him.” Came a whisper behind Harry.



Harry looked carefully over his shoulder and spied a man with a bristly handlebar mustache leaning closer to the thin man beside him. He plucked at his tatty blue overcoat and pointed toward Harry.



“I think he is, he must be. Look’s just like the description too, black hair and all! I swear I’ve seen—”



“You’re batty, there must be hundreds of dark haired little boy’s in Britain.” The thin man whispered back before his eyes landed on Harry and a shocked look washed over his face.



Harry gasped and tried to pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping by reaching for Aunt Petunia’s grocery cart, but wound up grasping at air. He twisted around to search for her, but she was nowhere to be found. A dull, miserable feeling trickled through him when he realized she must’ve forgotten to check if Harry had been with her before leaving the aisle.



It wouldn’t be the first time she’d lost him in the grocery store, nor was it likely to be the last.



He could find her though, he was quite good at that. She’d planned on making a meatloaf for dinner this evening, and had already been to the butcher’s counter and sauce aisle. Harry might be lucky enough to catch up with her around the vegetables, but he couldn’t be sure if she needed any.



Vegetables weren’t a staple in their house.



That didn’t bother Harry very much though, he didn’t find them very enjoyable and he was often forced to clean them for Aunt Petunia.



He supposed potatoes weren’t so bad, but he wasn’t very sure if those were vegetables or not.



He shook his head and tried to focus on finding Aunt Petunia before she left. Dudley had been forced to come along on their errand so Harry could at least try to find them by relying on his usual wants. He wondered if finding the store’s bakery would help, as he felt sure Dudley would scream for a treat before they finished their errand.



Harry plunged his fists into the pockets of his windbreaker and inhaled slowly. She couldn’t have been gone long. After all, Harry’d only eavesdropped for a second or two.



He spun on his heel and made for the direction of the bakery.



“Young man!” The thin man waved his arm as he called out before Harry rounded the aisle.



Harry kept walking, as he was sure no good could come about from either of the two men. Aunt Petunia often lectured Dudley about speaking with strangers, and she’d provided enough examples for Harry to be suitably frightened of most anyone who tried to speak with him.



He wasn’t very sure of what to say though. Aunt Petunia warned Dudley about strangers offering him candy, but she’d never said anything about them searching for dark haired kids.



Harry felt all the more frightened that they’d singled him out for his hair. Without Aunt Petunia or Dudley around, they wouldn’t know the rest of Harry’s family was blonde.



They likely wouldn’t want a dark haired kid with blonde family members.



Why hair colour mattered was beyond Harry.



The sound of rushing footsteps echoed from behind and Harry bolted down the soup aisle before stumbling over the laces on his trainers and nearly colliding with a seasoning display. He dove out of the way and landed hard, with his palms catching most of his weight on the linoleum. He quickly picked himself up before shuffling behind the display as the two men hurried down the aisle.



“He’s bloody quick!” The man with the handlebar mustache huffed.



“Do you meet many slow kids?” The thin man asked.



“I’m sure they exist!”



Neither of them looked or sounded particularly dangerous, but Harry supposed anyone who chased kids was at least a little dangerous.



He curled tighter behind the display and froze when his movement gently rattled the cardboard.



Neither of the men had missed the noise, and eagerly turned toward his hiding place.



This could only end badly.



“Oh!” The man with the handlebar mustache started as he caught sight of Harry. His eyes flickered toward Harry’s forehead and his face lit up with excitement. “Hello-er,” Harry tucked tighter against the display and cursed himself for moving at all. “Please don’t be frightened—”



The thin man clicked his tongue. “Don’t be frightened?” He asked in a mocking voice. “Don’t be frightened of the two men who chased you down the aisle?”



“I’m trying my best, I’ve never met a real life celebrity!”



Harry blinked stupidly.



The two men must’ve had him confused with someone else, though he wasn’t sure who. Harry didn’t know of any famous people who were his age.



“We’re a bit star struck is all,” The thin man said in a thick, apologetic voice. “You can hardly blame us,” He jabbed his thumb toward the man with the mustache. “Bill here reckon’s he saw your scar when you came in—”



“Like lightning and all!”



Harry quickly pressed his fringe down on his forehead. He was sure these two were complete nutters and he wished they’d leave him alone. His palms stung from where he’d fallen and he could feel his right knee bleeding onto his jeans.



“The thing is, we just thought we ought to thank you.” The thin man continued. “Seems the right thing to do, you know?”



Harry shook his head ‘no’.



The man with the mustache tossed a look over his shoulder and a pit grew in Harry’s stomach when he realized how empty the aisle was.



The thin man looked as well before inhaling slowly and motioning for his friend to back away.



“You’re probably worried about speaking with strangers, and you should be.” The thin man said with a nod. “It’s good practice, most kids er, most kids your age would be. You’re what,” He squinted and a pinched look came over his face. “Five? It’s been four years since You-Know-Who, so you must be five.” The thin man reasoned.



“I’m seven.” Harry said boldly. He wasn’t sure how the man knew he was five, but it couldn’t have meant anything good. “Seven and a half.” He added for good measure.



The two men shuffled uncomfortably in place.



“You look small for a seven year old.” The man with the mustache said. “Probably, er, probably shouldn’t be alone, seven or not.”



“I’m not!” Harry half shouted as he inched closer to the shelves. “I have—” He paused after realizing Aunt Petunia might’ve already been and gone from the bakery section and his window of opportunity for catching her was rapidly shrinking.



“Look, we’re not normally the charitable sort,” The thin man said when Harry failed to continue his sentence. “But you got us out of a tight spot a few years back and we’re smart enough to pay it forward.”



He slipped a hand into his right pocket and dug through what sounded like thousands of things, though Harry wasn’t sure how it was possible. His pocket looked empty.



“Ah, here we are!” He said brightly before pulling a small bottle free. “I’d say you’re lucky we found you today, but Felix probably knew you’d need him.” He sank down to one knee and rolled the little bottle toward Harry’s hiding place. It bounced off the cardboard display and stopped just short of Harry’s trainers. “I’m not sure what sort of things a five year old would think is lucky, maybe you’ll get to see a train and have an ice cream or something—”



“Take a sip and trust your gut,” The man with the mustache said as he cut his friend off. “If you think you’re in need of a bit of luck.”



He nodded once at Harry before reaching forward and grabbing the thin man’s arm. The two slipped from the aisle almost as quickly as they’d appeared.



Harry slowly crawled from his hiding place and picked the little bottle up. A harmless looking gold liquid glided over the glass and shimmered beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting. He’d half thought the two men might’ve been trying to poison him, like the bad guys he’d seen on the Telly, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. Whether they were kidnappers or not, Harry wasn’t about to swallow a random drink when the two men could spring out from behind the aisles.



If Dudley saw it, he’d certainly try to steal it. What would he say to Aunt Petunia if it turned out to be poisoned then!?



Aunt Petunia!



Harry shoved the bottle into his pocket and swerved around throngs of legs, carts and crying children before finding himself in the near empty bakery section.



It didn’t look as if anyone had come by in a while, but that could mean anything! Dudley might’ve already come and gone, or Aunt Petunia might’ve noticed Harry’s disappearance and was furiously trying to hunt him down while Dudley screamed for a treat.



Harry shuddered at the thought of her finding him while in a fit of anger. He didn’t fancy being snatched up and shouted at when they eventually got into the car. He wasn’t sure Aunt Petunia would even bother to try finding him, as whenever he’d gotten lost in the past, he’d always been the one to find her.



He tried to guess how much time he had left to make another plan.



She’d nearly completed her shopping when the two men had begun whispering though, for all he knew, she’d finished paying and was loading the car up.



He spun around and quickly ran out the exit.



A frigid burst of wind caught him in the face, but he shook it off as he searched over the car park. He knew what Uncle Vernon’s car looked like, as he’d just begun learning how to properly wash it.



It couldn’t have been very hard to find it.



It was shiny, grey and reminded Harry of the flat faced pug that lived in the neighbours house across the street.



Why Uncle Vernon felt it was a nice looking car was beyond Harry, but according to him, Harry only needed to know that Grunning’s had paid for it and a sign of gratitude was keeping it clean.



‘Why don’t you clean it then?’ Harry’d asked as the hose dribbled cold water over his shoes.



‘Because I’ve earned it and you, boy, have more cause to be thankful than most! This company pays for your clothes! I’d be more grateful if I was in your position.’ Uncle Vernon’d said with a nasty look in his eye. ‘We’ve taken you in without complaint, I should like to see some thank’s for it.’



Harry supposed he should be a bit more thankful for his uncle’s job, though he’d be more grateful if he didn’t have to wear Dudley’s cast-offs and if he had a nicer cot in his cupboard. He’d have probably started being actively helpful if they moved him to the second bedroom as well.



He wouldn’t ask for a lot, but he felt he deserved that much.



He shook his head and ran the length of the car park as he searched carefully for Uncle Vernon’s car, but couldn’t find it anywhere. There was always the chance Aunt Petunia already loaded it up and now loitered near the entrance in case Harry’d waited for her there, but Harry realized that was increasingly unlikely.



Despite his effort he’d need to accept he’d been forgotten.



The urge to cry bubbled through him, but he determinedly tried to stamp it out. He’d been left at a park once before, and found his way home. The grocery store would be no different.



He just needed to get on with it. He jammed his fists into his pockets and flinched when his knuckles hit the small bottle the two men had given him.



While Harry’d been frightened of the two men in the store, he couldn’t say he felt the same at the moment. The two must’ve been long gone, and no one dangerous looking lingered in the car park, aside from a few mean looking kids.



They didn’t seem likely to bully Harry though, not with the parents so close by.



One of the men had said to drink it for a bit of luck, hadn’t they? Harry could honestly say he needed some at the moment too. He didn’t have much experience with magic potions, which he could only assume the little bottle was, or anything like them, aside from when he listened to Dudley’s bedtime stories.



Harry particularly liked stories with magic, though Aunt Petunia hated them, and rarely read them, even if Dudley picked them out.



‘Magic isn’t real!’ She’d said, as if it were a ridiculous notion to believe in the first place. ‘How about this nice one Diddy, it’s about Pirates!’



Harry often made up his own very magical bedtime stories as a silent form of revenge. All sorts of magical things happened in his stories, and they often included old men with pointed hats and great big men on motorbikes! He liked to imagine all sorts of things could fly as well, like motorbikes, cars and bicycles.



He pulled the stopper on the bottle and hoped what was inside wouldn’t kill him as he swallowed back the magical potion.



Aside from a fizzy aftertaste, nothing seemed to happen. Harry quite liked it’s fizziness too, as he never got to drink any of Dudley’s fizzy drinks, despite how often he tried to steal one. He didn’t feel any different either, aside from a tingling in his stomach.



He hoped again that it wasn’t poison.



It would be very difficult to get back to find his family if it was.



Harry sighed and looked around as he tried to come up with a solution, before spotting several people and a group of children lingering in a haphazard queue. Most of them had varying amounts of groceries either in hand or lumped together on the ground nearby. He wondered idly what they were doing before a fizzy feeling bubbled through him and he excitedly realized they were waiting for the bus.



He ran toward it as a plan formed in his mind. He could easily take that home. He wasn’t sure about what route would take him to his stop, but he was positive he’d know it when he saw it. Perhaps the bus driver would be kind enough to let him ride for free, though Harry wasn’t sure, as Aunt Petunia had made more than one nasty remark to bus drivers about booting freeloaders from their seats. Harry wondered if he might be able to slip onto the bus unnoticed with the children though. It seemed unlikely to work unless the bus came quickly, as whoever was in charge was sure to notice one too many kids in their group.



In an odd stroke of luck, the bus appeared over the hill almost as if it knew how desperately Harry needed it.



“There’s the bus now,” Said a woman Harry presumed to be in charge. She crowded the group toward the curb. “Bits and bobs off the ground, buddy system please.” She added as the bus squealed to a stop before them. Harry hoped Aunt Petunia hadn’t waited for him, he’d be in a world of trouble if she had. She’d never gone looking for him in the past though, so why would Harry assume she would this time?



He fell into step behind a tall boy in a brown blazer and hoped he went overlooked. His windbreaker was nearly the same colour, though it was hardly the same fabric.



Despite his fears, no one noticed anything.



“Go on and pass these out now, Mr Chambers.” The woman in charge said as she unzipped her backpack and tugged out several bags of tangerines and grapes. “It’s a bit of a ride, so settle in. I won’t have a repeat of Epsom, so you’d all better be on your best behaviour.” She said before pulling out a scratched Walkman and settling the headphones over her head.



No one had given him a curious look yet, for which Harry was thankful, but equally confused over.



He knelt on his seat and tossed a look over the odd collection of students. They chattered and introduced themselves in turn, making Harry wonder if they might be closer to a club, or study group?



Maybe that was why no one had questioned his sudden appearance?



Harry wondered idly about where the student’s were headed and what happened in Epsom before a sandy haired boy dropped a tangerine into his hand.



He blinked hungrily at it for half a second before peeling it and eating it as quickly as he could. He didn’t think he could be much luckier, as he hadn’t had a chance to have lunch yet, and he’d only gotten a bit of toast for breakfast before getting to school. That’d been hours ago. Aunt Petunia’d been put out about having to collect them for a half-day of class as well, but she'd promised Harry could have some soup when he got home, so Harry could at least look forward to that.



The tangerine was doing wonders for him already though.



“Excuse me,” A girl with coiled plaits appeared over the back of the seat in front of Harry. “Did either of you bring your workbook?” She asked before leaning down and whispering something to whoever sat next to her. A second girl appeared and the one with plaits pointed toward her. “Victoria’s forgotten her’s, but we thought we could copy the questions before Miss Williams noticed.”



The boy next to Harry nodded and pulled a book with a dinosaur on the cover from his backpack and passed it over.



“You neither?” Victoria asked when Harry shook his head ‘no’.



Harry hoped none of them asked him questions about their assignments, as he’d only begun Year One a few months ago and these students looked to be in Year Two or Three. He could hardly write his letters, and his reading wasn’t the best. His teacher had mentioned once or twice that it might have to do with his glasses, but Aunt Petunia thought it had more to do with Harry’s tendency to daydream instead of focusing.



“That’s ok, you can copy after me if you like, if he doesn’t mind, I mean?” Victoria said with a nod toward the boy next to Harry before disappearing behind the seat.



Despite Harry’s shock, he became quick friends with the kids sitting beside him, and even was able to share another snack with them, while learning about their trip to the natural history museum. He rarely enjoyed such luck, as Dudley often bullied anyone who spoke to Harry, or told them all sorts of nasty things to make them not want to play with him.



He wondered idly which museum they were going to, and tried to remember the surroundings so he’d be able to find his way back when he was a bit older.



The bus ride was quite a bit longer than he remembered, but he assumed that had more to do with his having to check each stop, rather than waiting until Aunt Petunia tugged him from his seat when it was time to leave.



“I’m excited to see the geodes.” Victoria said. “My mum told me they sell some in the gift shop as well.”



“They do!” Said the girl with coiled plaits, Harry hadn’t caught her name, nor the one of the boy beside him, but he felt they’d think he was odd if he asked now. “My sister bought one when she came and my dad broke his hammer trying to get it open.”



“That’s ridiculous,” The boy next to him said. “Your Dad’s hammer mustn’t have been very good.”



The girl with the plaits wrinkled her nose in a good natured way. “Well, lets buy one today and you can see for yourself, how’s that?” She asked.



Harry nodded excitedly, before remembering that he ought to find his way to the Dursley’s before getting too caught up in his new friends adventures. He wished he could go to the museum with them, though he supposed it would be rather odd for him to tag along when he had no pencils or paper.



The woman who Harry now knew as Miss Williams, tugged her headphones off and sat up. “Alright Year Two, pack up your things, our stop is next.” She said as she unzipped her bum bag and tugged out what looked like a folded street map.



Harry blinked excitedly at it and wondered if he might be able to borrow it, as he knew the area around Little Whinging quite well.



The kids chattered excitedly as the bus came to a stop and they climbed off in a flurry of movement.



Harry stepped off the bus and the city exploded with noise and activity, bustling around him without a second thought. He wasn’t sure if he’d been to this street in Surrey, as he couldn’t remember ever being somewhere so busy before. The buildings were far taller than he was used to as well, in fact he wondered if they looked more like the sky scrapers he’d seen on the Telly!



“Neat lines now, fix your blazer Miss Grey.” Miss Williams said as she rounded her students up and led them toward a massive building. Harry thought about trying to snatch Miss Williams's map, but he didn’t think he could get close enough without her noticing him and he wound up splitting from their group as they passed a large sign of a dinosaur.



He gave a cursory look around and tried to guess which street they were on, but it all looked very unfamiliar. He twisted again and looked up at the massive building the school kids had gone into. It took Harry nearly a minute before he noticed it had a name and he squinted as he sounded it out.



“Natur-al His—history Museum of Lon-don!” He finished with a feeling of satisfaction for having sounded it out before horror shot through him. “London!” He shrieked!



This was terrible! Aunt Petunia was going to have a fit! Harry wouldn’t be out of his cupboard for days if he didn’t find his way back to Surrey in the next minute!



He gave himself a full minute to panic before a voice echoed in the back of his mind and reminded him that the magic potion was about trusting his gut. Harry couldn’t guess if it was really working as he’d wound up in London, but he’d had one of the luckiest days already. He’d gotten to have two snacks and meet some kids his own age, they even liked him!



By all accounts, he’d had more luck lately than ever before.



He inhaled slowly and tried to listen to his gut like the man with the mustache had suggested.



It didn’t seem like his gut wanted very much at the moment, in fact, his gut mostly wanted him to stay exactly where he was.



Maybe that was Harry impeding his own luck though. He searched the street while he waited and spied a phone booth, where he briefly entertained the idea of calling Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, but even then, he didn’t have any spare change to operate it, nor did he think he was tall enough to reach the receiver.



Harry sighed and tried to consider his options.



It was very likely he’d caused himself this trouble by believing in magical potions and thinking he’d get even a drop of luck.



Aunt Petunia mentioned far too often that magic, and anything resembling it, didn’t exist. He knew himself well enough. He should’ve been prepared for total failure whenever he was involved, even if he’d really enjoyed having a snack and meeting those kids.



He debated sitting on the curb and waiting until the next bus came, though he didn’t know when or if it’d be able to take him to the Dursleys.



“Are you lost?” Asked a pimply man in a neat green uniform. He sniffed and settled his hands onto his hips. “I thought I saw all the student’s into the museum, but this wouldn’t be the first time I’d missed one, sneaky things, you lot are. Coming into London to mess about—”



“I’m not lost.” Harry said quickly. His magic potion began to bubble in his stomach again and he felt the oddest urge come over him. “I need to get to Charing Cross is all.” He wasn’t sure why he picked that station, though he remembered hearing its name several times from the big book of trains Dudley often forced Aunt Petunia to read.



The man blinked dumbly at him. “You look too young to be out alone.”



“I’m not alone. I’m meeting my grandad.” Harry said on the spot. He wasn’t sure why that was the thing to say, but if he was trusting his gut, he might as well lean into it. “His name’s Bill.”



“Yeah, well Bill shouldn’t let kids wander on their own. A city isn’t a daycare, especially this one. You’re twenty minutes out of Charing Cross. Did Bill give you some cash to ride the bus, or did you spend it all on sweets and other things kids slobber over?”



Harry shrugged and shivered slightly beneath his windbreaker.



“How am I always the one suckered into these things? You’re lucky I just got paid, you know that?” The man mumbled and dug through the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers. “Tell Bill to pay it forward, alright?” He added before pulling out a fiver. “This oughta get you where you gotta go, and don’t go spending it on anything but the bus!”



Harry nodded and pocketed the cash before being pointed in the direction of the bus.



“Get on and ask for Charing Cross, nothing else!” The man yelled as Harry rounded the corner. He quickly saw another bus approaching and ran toward it before it could pass him over. He wasn’t sure why his luck wanted him to go to Charing Cross, but maybe that station had the correct bus?



Harry quite enjoyed his next bus ride, as he was able to quietly sit next to the window and watch everything pass him by, whereas he’d normally have to put up with Dudley’s taunts.



It was significantly more pleasant to see the parks, fountains and people without being punched or having his hair pulled. He quite enjoyed when the bus waited at a light and he was able to watch a bit of a magic show being performed on the street.



Aunt Petunia would’ve shrieked if she’d so much as heard the word ‘magician’!



His stop came up sooner than he’d anticipated and he found himself standing outside of a massive train station. He wasn’t sure why his magic potion wanted him here, but he didn’t have much time to wonder about it, as the bubbly feeling erupted when he looked left. He searched up and down the street, idly looking over the large ads for perfume and movies, and other things Harry assumed ads sold until he smacked into a tall black shape.



He tipped and almost fell backwards before something caught his sleeve. He silently thanked his luck for keeping him upright, as his palms and knee still stung from when he’d fallen earlier.



“Watch where you’re going.” The black shape said sharply.



“Sorry!” Harry squeaked. He looked right and thought about sprinting down the street, but his bubbly luck didn’t appear to want him to. If anything it seemed to think the black shape was precisely where he needed to be.



The black shape leant back and Harry realized it was actually a very, very tall man wearing a trench coat. He had a crooked nose and looked as if he often smelled distasteful things.



The man’s eyes narrowed on Harry’s face and he looked oddly as if he recognized him. Harry couldn’t guess how that was possible, but he supposed the two men from the grocery store had somehow known him, so maybe this man was their friend?



His grip tightened on Harry’s sleeve. “What—”



“I have to—” Harry started, quite prepared for the bubbly feeling to take over, but it never came.



The tall man raised a thin eyebrow. “You have to, what?”



“Erm,” Harry blinked. “I have to-to find Charing Cross?” He said, trying to look as knowledgeable as he could. “The erm, the train station?”



“Are you asking me what you need to find?” The man asked.



Harry wished desperately for the bubbly feeling to take over, but it was determined to leave him to come up with something on his own, which Harry knew was a dreadful plan, in his personal experience.



The man inhaled slowly before leading Harry into a far less busy alley. He lowered himself down to one knee, but was somehow still very tall.



Harry blinked at the trash and mud on the ground and wondered if that bothered the man at all, because it bothered Aunt Petunia tremendously whenever she was forced to kneel and re-tie Harry laces. She far preferred to do them in the house, if she did them at all.



Harry felt quite proud to have figured out how to tie them on his own after weeks of practice.



“Did you sneak out of your house?” He asked coldly.



He sounded almost as if he wanted to yell at Harry for having been forgotten.



“No!” Harry said worriedly. The bubbly feeling burst through him and flooded his thoughts so quickly that he hardly thought to keep his mouth shut. “My aunt forgot me at the grocery store. I’ve been trying to find her, but I think she drove home without me, so I took the bus! I thought I knew which stop was mine, but then I must’ve gotten on the wrong bus!”



“Stop! Stop talking.” The man said as he held his hand up. “You daft thing! Hasn’t anyone taught you not to talk to strangers?” He asked as he gently shook Harry by his arm. “What if I were someone who meant to hurt you? You’ve just told me you’re alone in a massive city with no one here to find you!”



“The bubbly luck drink told me you’d be alright.” Harry said before he could stop himself.



The tall man blanched. “The what?!”



“The bubbly—”



“Who in their right mind gave you that!” He asked. “What did it look like?”



Harry pulled out the small bottle for the man to see, though he almost regretted having drank it, because this man didn’t seem half as nice as the other people Harry’d met today.



“Charming, an empty, unlabeled bottle.” The man said in an obvious tone. “Did it have a colour, or descriptor? Are you so thick you’ll drink anything a stranger hands you?”



“I’m not thick!” Harry said fiercely. “My aunt forgot me and the man said to drink it if I needed a bit of luck!” He said, feeling more upset by the second. “All I wanted was to find my aunt before she left and that didn’t even happen!”



The tall man ran a hand over his face and groaned. “Fine. What’s your name.” He asked. His eyes flickered toward Harry’s scar and lingered for a second longer than was typical. He reminded Harry of the men from the grocery store, and just like them, he probably already knew how old Harry was too.



Harry flattened his fringe to his forehead. “I’m not telling you,” He said as he looked around and wondered why no one had stopped to talk with them, despite the two looking very odd, in Harry’s opinion. “What if you want to hurt me?”



The tall man scrunched his eyes shut and inhaled deeply before reopening them. “I’m pleased you’ve managed to retain even an iota of what I said, but we’re a bit past that now.”



Harry shook his head ‘no’. “I dunno know what iota means.”



“My name is Severus.” The tall man said without explaining what the word meant. “And you are?”



Harry squinted at the man for a brief moment and wondered if the bubbly feeling had lost the plot. The man hadn’t been necessarily mean to Harry, but he hadn’t been very kind either.



It wanted for Harry to answer him though.



“Harry.”



“What a pleasure.” Severus said with a grimace. “Now, would you calmly explain how you came to find the Leaky Cauldron?”



“The what?” Harry asked as he looked around. He was sure he hadn’t seen any cauldrons, though he couldn’t be too sure because he didn’t know what they looked like. In his mind, he imagined Aunt Petunia’s stew pot, but he felt that wasn’t quite right.



Severus let go of Harry’s sleeve, rose to his feet and stepped to the mouth of the alley.



He waited for Harry to catch up before pointing to the sign nearly a block away. Harry’s glasses weren’t fantastic at clarifying things over a long distance, but he slowly managed to sound out the words.



He was led back into the quiet alley before he looked back toward Severus. “I dunno.” He said with a shrug. “I was looking for Aunt Petunia.”



“You drank it and thought of finding your, aunt,” Severus repeated in a slow deliberate way. “Petunia.”



Harry blinked and opened his mouth, but Severus beat him to it.



“And instead, you found your way here.”



“Right.” Harry nodded. “Cause I got on the wrong bus and—”



Severus held his hand up again. “That,” He paused and seemed to struggle to find the right word. “Drink,” He finally said. “Has several very specific properties, one of which is that whomsoever imbibes it will find all of their endeavors succeed.”



Harry shook his head at most of the words. He wasn’t sure if Severus spent much time around kids, though Harry didn’t really spend much time around them either.



He would’ve liked to, that much was true.



“What did you want to do the second after you drank it?” Severus asked after a moment.



“Well, erm,” Harry blinked and shivered as he thought back to the chilly car park. “I really did just want to find my family. And not get in trouble, and maybe ride a flying motorbike, or bicycle. I don’t have a bicycle, Dudley has one but—”



“One thing at a time.” Severus said before pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing slowly.



“I didn’t want to get in trouble if Aunt Petunia had to come back for me.” Harry said dully. The bubbly feeling trickled through him, though Harry disliked it, as he was reminded rather harshly about the difference between himself and Dudley.



“Is it possible you just missed her?” Severus asked.



Harry shook his head ‘no’. “She’s forgotten me before. I found my way home last time.”



“Had she been worried when you arrived?” Severus asked as he held his hands aloft in a questioning wave. He acted as if he had quite a bit of experience with parents. “Frightened, perhaps?”



“She said it was my own fault for not paying attention.” Harry said, parroting Aunt Petunia’s words. He didn’t find this part of their conversation as fun as he’d found the rest of his luck. Everything else had been much nicer, with his having a snack and meeting kids who genuinely seemed to like him.



“I somehow doubt it was solely your fault.” Severus said in an awkward voice. “It’s not always a child’s fault they’ve been missed.”



Harry blinked at the dirty cobblestones and wished he hadn’t tried the magical potion. He wished those two strange men hadn’t shown up and chased him. He wished he’d just hung into the cart, even if Dudley had pinched his fingers whenever he came close. He wished Aunt Petunia had let him ride in the cart, like she had Dudley.



If Harry’d been in the cart, none of this could’ve happened. He would’ve kept his mouth shut, even if Dudley hit him or tugged on his hair.



“Now,” Severus said in an uncomfortable voice. “There’s no need to be upset.”



Harry wondered if Severus didn’t often comfort crying children. He looked almost more uncomfortable than he sounded.



“I’m not.” Harry sniffled. He rubbed his sore palms over his eyes and hoped Severus didn’t call him a liar. Harry was sure he wasn’t upset, because he had nothing to be upset about. In the past, Aunt Petunia had been very clear about Harry’s faults, and this had clearly been his fault.



Long fingers gently pulled at his hands and turned them over. Harry blinked through his tears to find Severus giving his palms a concerned look. His eyes slowly trailed over Harry, stopping briefly on his windbreaker and dirty jeans.



“I didn’t see her leave and I tried to find her, but she was gone.” Harry said.



“By your own logic, you did all you could.” Severus said softly. “What could you have done differently?” He let go of Harry’s hands and sank a bit lower, meeting Harry’s gaze head on.



Harry paused and rubbed at his eyes once more. “Erm, maybe, I could’ve found some help, but—”



Severus nodded and waited patiently for Harry to continue, which Harry found odd. He wasn’t used to having a moment to think about his answers.



“But Aunt Petunia would be angry if someone called her to the front of the store for me.” Harry said. She wouldn’t have just been angry, she’d have been furious. Harry was already looking at spending several days in his cupboard, if he’d called for her, he might be spending a week there. “She’d have been really nice to whoever called her, but she’d have been angry with me for making a scene.”



“I should think she’d be making a scene, seeing as her nephew had been missing before then.”



Harry shook his head. “That’s not how she’d see it.”



“What’s the worst that would’ve happened then?” Severus asked in a soft voice. “If you’d found help?”



“Well, she wouldn’t have let me eat when we got home.” Harry said. He didn’t fancy explaining everything to Severus, but aside from when Harry’d bumped into him, he’d been quite calm, and he asked helpful questions. His bubbly luck pushed him to answer as well, despite how Harry felt. “She’d probably have told Uncle Vernon, and then I wouldn’t have been let out of my—'' He was distinctly aware that normal children didn’t sleep in cupboards. Aunt Petunia made it glaringly apparent. She gave Harry loads of reasons for why he stayed there as well, ranging from Harry’s inability to tidy up after himself to the madness he might create if he had so much space to himself. Harry didn’t think of himself as untidy, though Uncle Vernon called Harry untidy every other day. “Room.” He finished blandly.



Severus raised an eyebrow again. Harry couldn’t tell if he’d liked his answer or not. “No supper and being sent to your room may be a bit strict, but you said you’ve found your way home alone before, is it possible this was a deterrent from the previous outcome?”



“What’s deterrent?” Harry asked.



“The act of discouraging misbehaviour with punishment.”



“Oh.” Harry said curiously. “I dunno then,” He said as he shuffled in place. “It’s the same punishment for everything.” The bubbly feeling fizzled through him once more. “It’s sorta just how my aunt and uncle are. It’s normal for some things, like when I pushed Dudley.”



Severus clicked his tongue. “Bullying your cousin, are you?”



“No!” Harry snapped. “I only pushed him once. He hits me all the time, I just wanted him to stop.”



Severus closed his eyes and gave an odd shiver before he looked down again. “Apologies, Harry. Continue your explanation.” He said.



Harry blinked and tried to remember if anyone had ever apologized to him before. He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe Mrs Figg had once, but it’d probably been over something truly accidental, like if one of her cats had scratched him.



“Erm, well they always use that as a derrant.” Harry said, remembered the word at the last second.



“Deterrent.” Severus repeated in a slow, clear voice.



“Deterrent.” Harry nodded. “They use it for normal stuff, like I said, but for everything else too. Like when I forget to empty the bins or fold the towels.”



“Do you often forget them?” Severus asked curiously.



“No, I do them all the time.” Harry said with a sharp look. He disliked the route his bubbly feeling had taken him on, but he’d make sure Severus knew he wasn’t a slacker. “But they always keep food from me. I forgot the bin in Dudley’s room the other day and I didn’t get anything all day.”



“Dudley doesn’t empty his own bins?” Severus asked with a sneer.



Harry shook his head ‘no’. “It’d get in the way of his Telly time.” He said. “Or his homework time, but he doesn’t really spend a lot of time on his homework at home anyway.”



Severus sighed and his eyebrows furrowed. “Now, when you swallowed that drink,” He began. “You wanted to find your family. That’s what you endeavored to do.”



“What’s endeavored?”



“It means an act you try very hard to succeed at.”



“Oh,” Harry said before nodding. “Yes, I wanted to find them.”



“Let’s see if we can’t find our way to your aunt’s house then.” Severus said as he stood. A thin black stick dropped out of his sleeve.



“What’s that!” Harry asked excitedly.



Severus blinked once at Harry. “It’s a wand.” He said in an obvious tone. “Through which, magic is performed.”



“What!?” Harry asked as he peered closely at it. “Where did you get it? From a witch?”



“From a wizard, actually.” Severus said as he held it up for Harry to see. “You’ll get one when you’re eleven, or has your aunt neglected to help you with that as well?”



Harry stared at the wand for several more seconds while his brain made slow, stupid circle around what Severus had just said. The bubbly feeling rushed through him once more and Harry realized what sort of luck he’d truly been granted today.



“She has, I take it?” Severus said, though he phrased it like a question, Harry somehow felt it wasn’t one.



“Does she know about magic?” Harry asked.



Severus stiffened and Harry almost wished he hadn’t asked. In his defense, Severus spoke about it as though Aunt Petunia must’ve known.



“Is it really?” Harry asked after realizing he’d best change the conversation. He didn’t think he could handle it if this was all a strange dream and he was actually asleep in his cupboard. “Is it really a wand that you got from a wizard?”



A curious look flickered over Severus’s face and he knelt back onto the ground. “Yes, it truly is a wand, just as you truly are a wizard.” He added before letting Harry look a little closer, though he pulled it back before he was able to touch it. “Having magic is not a deformity, a word which means not normal.”



He liked that Severus explained what he’d said so easily, because neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon had ever helped Harry understand what they’d said.



“So,” Harry paused. “It-it’s normal then?”



Severus nodded. “Very normal.”



Harry wished quite suddenly that Severus would tell Aunt Petunia. She would never believe Harry if he told her that other people thought of magic as a normal thing. “Can you show me something?” He asked.



He wasn’t sure if that was the sort of thing people could ask for, but Harry hadn’t ever met a wizard before, so he wasn’t sure how to act.



“I suppose, if you truly want to see.” Severus nodded.



Harry nodded wildly. He had a feeling Severus didn’t often do magic just for the fun of it and he tried to reign in his excitement, but it was rather difficult. It wasn’t very often that someone offered to show Harry magic, in fact it’d never happened before.



Severus flicked his wand in a smooth movement and Harry jerked as his windbreaker shivered on his shoulders and was transformed into a thick, warm coat.



It was far softer than anything Harry was used to, and thick as well. He gently touched the fabric, unsure if it was actually real.



Severus slowly reached down toward Harry and silently asked for his hand.



Harry held it up quickly and flinched when a tingle ran over his palm. He pulled it back and searched it over after excitedly realizing that it no longer hurt. Less than a second later, his left hand felt equally painless, as did his knee.



The small blood stain lingered, but Harry wasn’t bothered by that.



Severus looked as if he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. Harry couldn’t guess why, but a strangely guilty look flickered across his face. If anything, he felt Severus should feel great, because he’d made Harry feel great!



“And you think I’m a wizard?” Harry asked when it seemed Severus wouldn’t speak.



“I’m sure you are.” Severus said. “You look rather like a few people I knew, relations certainly, though I am not the person to tell you that story, perhaps at a different time.”



“Did my luck just not work then?” Harry asked. “I didn’t find my family, just someone who might’ve known them?”



He supposed that made sense, he’d already been far too lucky. Discovering he was magical was almost unbelievable, having found the family his luck wanted would’ve been truly unbelievable.



Severus frowned. “You’re far luckier than you think, for had you bumped into me on any other day, I doubt our interaction we’d had would’ve gone so smoothly.” He said softly. “And you’re luckier still that I’m qualified to perform house visits on muggles, a word which means a non-magical person.”



Harry whispered the word beneath his breath. “Is Aunt Petunia a muggle?” He asked.



“Decidedly.” Severus answered.



“And Dudley and Uncle Vernon?”



“I cannot speak to your cousin, but your uncle, yes.”



Harry hummed and almost wished for his aunt or uncle to be magical, as he was sure it’d make them less obsessed with hating magic.



They wound up discussing several branches of magic, which Harry learnt was a term meaning something like sections, as well as Hogwarts, the school where Harry’d learn magic just as his parents had, before they found themselves in Little Whinging. He’d nearly exploded with questions when he discovered that Severus truly had known Harry’s parents, but he hadn’t been able to answer any of Harry’s more pressing questions, despite how he tried.



He’d only been able to promise Harry that they’d loved him very much.



Worry grew in Harry’s stomach as they neared Privet Drive. He felt sure his bubbly luck would come up with something to make the interaction go smoothly, though he couldn’t guess what might happen. He could never have guessed how his day would’ve gone just by judging his afternoon.



He spotted Uncle Vernon’s car in the driveway and wondered if he really had just missed it when he’d tried finding it at the store. It didn’t look any worse for wear.



Actually, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Aunt Petunia’s flowerbeds were in the same perfect condition they’d been in when Harry’d left this morning, though it did look as if Dudley’d been and gone. His sidewalk chalk was scattered over the lawn and half coloured superheroes littered the pavement.



Severus rang the doorbell and Harry tensed as a strong sense of nervousness rushed through him.



They heard a few things knock about from inside the house before the lock clicked and the door swung open to reveal Aunt Petunia.



Harry wondered if she’d tried to search for him, because it didn’t look like she’d been overly bothered. Her apron was stained with what might’ve been brown sauce and she was rubbing her hands on a dirty tea towel.



“Tuney.” Severus said with a raised eyebrow.



Harry jerked upwards and wondered how Severus knew Aunt Petunia’s nickname? He’d only ever heard Uncle Vernon say it, and even then it wasn’t often. He far preferred to call her ‘Pet’.



“You’d never believe the day I’ve had—”



Aunt Petunia moved to slam the door shut, but Severus flicked his wand and the door jerked to a stop. It looked impossible to move, or at least Aunt Petunia made it appear that way.



“Go away.” Aunt Petunia said coldly.



Harry pushed closer to Severus for fear that she’d notice him and accuse him of bringing someone she apparently hated to her house.



“How did you even find this address?”



“The school has it on file.” Severus said. “Seeing as Harry here, will eventually attend it.”



Harry swallowed heavily and slipped behind Severus’s long black coat.



Aunt Petunia looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. Her eyes dropped down to Harry’s height and her face only grew more pinched.



“I tried,” Harry said before coughing around his dry throat. “I tried to find you.”



“Isn’t he lucky? He found me instead.” Severus said. “He’s raised a rather interesting line of concerns in the last hour, and I’d like to address a few of them with you.”



“Write Dumbledore,” Aunt Petunia said. “I won’t have you trailing mud on my carpet.”



Harry wondered who Dumbledore was and if that was who’d given Severus his wand.



Severus tossed a sour look towards Aunt Petunia. “Any mud I track can easily be cleaned,” He said before dangling his wand between his fingertips. “Any good opinion on your child rearing however, cannot.”



Harry tried to pick his way through Severus’s complicated sentence, but gave up when he started talking again.



“Did you at least attempt to find him?” He asked as he tilted his nose upward.



“Of course I did.” Aunt Petunia snapped. “I waited an extra ten minutes at the checkout and another five in the car!”



“Fifteen extra minutes for a five year old.” Severus said cooly. “Generous.”



“Keep your big nose out of our business.” Aunt Petunia sneered and flapped her tea towel at Harry. “He found his way back, didn’t he? I knew he would.” She snapped her fingers at Harry, who jerked and very nearly ran into the house.



The bubbly feeling pushed him to grab Severus’s hand instead.



Severus flinched, though he didn’t wrench his hand from Harry’s, instead sighed and gave Aunt Petunia a firm look.



“I can’t let you watch him without having checked if the house is safe for child—”



“Keep him then.” She hissed before spinning on her heel and storming down the hallway. “If you really care, send Dumbledore to do a check, but I won’t have you in my house. Until then, he’s yours.” She said over her shoulder.



Harry was positive his luck had run out and now began to plunge full steam ahead into horrible unluckiness.



Where would he live without his family? He didn’t realize how easily she could drop him, and how little she truly wanted him.



He swallowed back a lump in his throat.



Severus flicked his wand and the door squeaked as it slid on it’s hinges. “Do you have a change of clothing you can collect?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I shudder to imagine what living conditions you experienced if your luck wound up removing you from your aunt’s house.”



Several tears trailed down Harry’s face when he realized that Aunt Petunia had truly meant for him to leave.



He knew she didn’t love him, but he’d hoped she cared just a little about him.



A large hand gently nudged Harry forward.



“Grab a few of your things, I’ll wait here.” Severus said.



Harry pushed the door open before slipping down the tidy hallway and into his cupboard. He could hear the Telly playing a loud commercial for washing up liquid and wondered if either Dudley or Uncle Vernon had asked where Harry was.



He didn’t think they’d asked the last time Harry’d gotten lost.



He tossed a few hand-me-downs into his backpack as well as his homework, workbook, and school uniform. The small space felt oddly uncomfortable as he stood in it. He didn’t think he’d ever felt that way about it before, as he’d grown up in it. He knew each crooked corner as well as where he could hide snacks and broken toys or crayons. His bubbly luck didn’t seem to feel the same way as Harry did, as it pointed Harry towards the nest of spiders above his head and the chemicals and cleaning products on the shelves.



Those had always been in the cupboard though, and weren’t strange enough to make Harry feel as uncomfortable as the bubbles wanted.



Harry twisted back around and made his way back on the stoop.



Severus hadn’t moved except to pace a bit. He gave Harry’s backpack a distasteful side eye before offering to shrink it as soon as they weren’t surrounded by muggles. “We’re going to need to apparate.” He said moments later. “Which has the closest meaning to the muggle word, teleport.”



Harry couldn’t guess what teleport meant, but he was far less interested in learning new words than a few minutes ago. He wished again that he’d wanted to find his uncle’s car, or searched harder for the grocery cart, when he’d drank the magic potion, rather than wanting to find his family.



Severus’s hand appeared before him and Harry grabbed hold before he was led to a quiet alley near Mrs Figg’s house.



“Apparating will be unpleasant, you’ll feel as if you’ve been sucked through an extremely thin tube, but rest assured that you will be completely fine afterwards.” Severus said as he shrunk Harry’s backpack with a wave of his wand.



Harry nodded weakly.



Severus paused and watched Harry for a long moment. “It may be easier, if I hold you.” He said softly. “Though if you dislike that idea, say so.”



Harry shrugged but truthfully wasn’t sure which way he felt about being carried. The bubbly feeling fizzled through him and encouraged him toward it, but Harry could only imagine all the times he’d seen Dudley and Aunt Petunia argue after she’d tried to carry him. They both clearly loved it, but either Dudley squirmed too much or Aunt Petunia wanted to look at things Dudley had no interest in.



A soft sound whispered past Harry’s ears and he found himself carefully held Severus’s arms. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as when Aunt Petunia picked Harry up, or as terrifying as when Uncle Vernon did, as neither were very gentle whenever Harry moved. They weren’t very gentle regardless though.



It was far more comforting than he’d anticipated, and though he wasn’t quite prepared to acknowledge another difference between himself and Dudley, he understood why Dudley’d liked this.



Severus, while not loving in the same way Aunt Petunia was with Dudley, was warm and kind.



“Ready?” Severus asked.



The bubbly feeling pushed Harry to nod, and Harry paused for just a moment before doing so.



He’d trusted his gut the way the man with the mustache had told him to, and each time found himself both better and worse off for it. He wasn’t sure if that was a part of magic, but it seemed more and more likely after each instance Harry had with the bubbles.



They’d taken him in the wrong direction home, tossed him lost in London without any help aside from whoever he stumbled into and pushed him into Severus, who hadn’t been the most pleased when they’d first begun to speak.



They’d also brought him a bus, snacks, friends, money, magic, and again, Severus.



Arguably, the luckiest thing that’d happened was finding Severus.



He decided that despite how the day had gone, and despite how he felt about his family, he was glad to be with someone who the bubbles believed to be family.



Harry nodded and tried to prepare himself for whatever came next.

Harry brushed his hands over the plush comforter.



He wasn’t sure how he felt about the last few days, but he knew he’d never slept with something as nice as this blanket.



Before now, his school uniform had been the nicest thing he’d been given, but even then it hadn’t been soft enough to use as a makeshift blanket. It was only nice for several weeks as well, because Harry’d worn through the knees by falling when he ran from Dudley.



“Now,” said Minnie, a professor Severus had introduced Harry to earlier. She dropped a heavy sounding book bag on the ground and pulled out several books. “I’ve found some fan favourites for Severus to read with you tonight. We have ‘Babbity Rabbity’, which is quite good, and ‘The Wizard and the Hopping Pot’,” She added, holding up a book with decorative green and yellow edges. “Or, we have ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers’.” Her eyes softened as she glanced at the last one, making Harry wondered if she had any brothers.



If she did, he hoped they were friendlier than Dudley.



Minnie carefully arranged the books on the small bedside table before giving him a warm look. He knew she’d need to leave soon, as she’d only been asked to watch him while Severus spoke with someone.



Harry hadn’t been left alone since arriving at Hogwarts and he couldn’t be sure of what would happen when he was.



Maybe he’d be yanked through the impossibly tight tube and sent back to Privet Drive?



“What did Madam Pomfrey say about your first night out of the Hospital Wing?” Minnie asked as she slowly sat in the old rocking chair to his right. She tugged the heavy knit blanket from where it’d been draped over the rocker’s back and laid it over Harry’s feet.



No one mentioned who owned the room Harry’d be sleeping in, and since he’d arrived, Harry nervously anticipated being wrenched from the bed and shoved into a cupboard. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been shouted at and dragged away from a bed. He once thought he could get away with sleeping in Aunt Marge's guest bed, but Aunt Petunia’d found him hardly an hour into the night and had thrown such a fit that Harry hadn’t been allowed upstairs for a week.



He hadn’t understood at the time, nor was he sure he understood now either, but he had a feeling it had something to do with magic.



“Harry?” Minnie asked.



Harry blinked and swallowed back his embarrassment at ignoring Minnie’s question. “Erm,” He stammered as he searched over the covers and tried to remember what she’d asked. “I, erm—”



“Did Madam Pomfrey give you any ideas of what to expect tonight?” Minnie asked kindly.



“Oh!” Harry nodded. “She said I might be scared, but that you were easy to find.” He said as he eyed the small, silver hand mirror on the bedside table. “And Severus too, he’s easy to get.”



Minnie held the small mirror up, presumably to check if it was working, though she quickly set it back down.



“What do you think about sleeping in a new bedroom?” She asked.



Harry shrugged and searched over his covers once more. They weren’t brightly coloured like Dudley’s, nor were the sheets designed with superheroes or pirates. Harry was sure he’d only seen sheets and covers like these on adult’s beds.



“I dunno.” He said in a quiet voice. He slowly brushed his fingers over the cover again. “It’s weird.”



It truly was very weird. Harry’d spent two nights in the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey searched him over relentlessly, but ultimately found him to be fine. Harry wondered if they expected he’d explode, as they always seemed on edge for a horrible reaction, but maybe that was Harry’s imagination, making up ways to make things worse.



He’d seen hospital shows on the Telly and everyone always seemed to be in trouble there.



Minnie sat back in the rocker and folded her hands around her middle. “Maybe it would be a little less weird, if we brightened it up?”



Harry tossed a glance around the bedroom and tried to guess at how easily magic could be undone, in case he’d only be staying for a short while. He didn’t want to change someone else’s bedroom, though, this room felt very much like a guest room. If it were a guest room, at least Harry wouldn’t be putting someone else out of a bed.



That argument hadn’t gone over well when he’d tried it with Aunt Petunia.



“Here, we can brighten your blanket, if you like,” Minnie offered as she held her wand up. “It’s a simple colour changing charm, ‘Colovaria’,” Minnie said, enunciating clearly for Harry.



Harry sat up and watched as she demonstrated a quick wand movement.



Of all the changes his bubbly luck drink brought, Harry’s favourite had been magic. Severus slowly began to teach Harry hundreds of new words, spells, and facts. A lot of them had to do with magic, but quite a bit were words Harry simply hadn’t known.



“What colour do you think would suit it?” Minnie asked.



Harry paused and stared at the cover for a brief second. “Green, please!” He said as the colour flashed through his mind. “Like my eyes!” He added and pointed to them after excitedly remembering he shared that colour with his mum.



Minnie laughed. “I bet green would be quite favourable for Severus,” She said before flicking her wand in a quick arc and changing Harry’s blankets. “I doubt you’ve missed it, but he has a certain flair for house pride. Which house do you think you’ll be in?” She asked.



Harry gently ran his fingers over his blanket once more before a loud sound echoed from the hallway.



They both jerked and Minnie stood before smiling at Harry and stepping toward the door.



The urge to leap from the bed and run into a cupboard flew through Harry, for fear that it’d been Aunt Petunia, who’d come through the door. He tried to push it away, but the moment Minnie left the bedroom, he crawled from the mattress and slipped to the floor.



“—did Albus say?” He heard Minnie ask as he inched closer to the door.



He couldn’t remember seeing any cupboards in Severus’s flat when he’d toured it earlier, only tall, imposing glass cabinets with hundreds of differently sized bottles.



“He deeply regrets Harry’s situation and wants to speak with Petunia again, but it’s unlikely given Felix—”



Harry shuddered and twisted as he searched the room for a cupboard once more. He couldn’t guess if Severus spoke with Aunt Petunia and Albus together, and if he had, Harry couldn’t help thinking she’d told him all sorts of nasty things about him.



It was highly likely he had, as Harry’s luck rarely worked out in his favour.



No matter how polite and kind Harry’d tried to be, she always turned everyone against him.



“—haven’t picked a book yet,”



Harry heard Minnie say as the door slid open and she and Severus paused in the entryway.



Severus blinked down at Harry and an awkward look washed over his face. Harry’d come to expect a certain amount of discomfort from him in the last few days, though each time Harry noticed it, he wound up fighting through insecurities until Severus either shook off his discomfort or pretended it never happened.



“It was lovely to spend the evening with you Harry,” Minnie said as she snuck her hands over his and she sank to her knees. “If you need me, just call for me in the mirror and I’ll be here in a flash.”



Harry nodded.



She smiled kindly in return and stood, giving Severus a firm grasp on his arm before disappearing out the bedroom door. Harry wished again that she’d stay, as his earlier worries about being left alone spiraled through him once more.



Her staying only prolonged the inevitable, though Harry didn’t know what might come now that she left, and he wished Severus would tell him what to expect.



No one had said anything about what might happen in the next few days, and Harry knew better than to hope for anything great. He’d spent enough time living in miserable situations to know good outcomes were rare.



He’d been far, far too lucky when he’d drunk his magic potion.



Severus inhaled slowly before dropping to one knee, just as Minnie had done. His eyes flickered over the room and landed on the bed for a long moment. “I like the colour of your blanket.” He said softly. “Did Minerva charm it for you?”



Harry twisted to look at the cover before turning back to Severus and nodding.



“Did she transfigure any toys for you?” Severus asked as he searched over the room.



“Checkers.” Harry said. “And chess, but I’m not very good.”



Minnie was extremely good at chess, and though the chess pieces tried to help Harry by shouting helpful moves, he’d lost three times before changing tack and imagining they were all knights and asking Minnie if she’d rather play that instead. Thankfully, she’d been delighted and transfigured a few dinner plates into a small castle for them to guard.



Severus hummed before climbing to his feet.



Harry watched confusedly as he stole down the short hallway and grabbed a small, decorative pillow from the sitting room before stepping back into the bedroom and dropping it into Harry’s arms, though having not expected it, Harry nearly dropped it.



It was similar to the pillow’s Mrs Figg kept in her sitting room, in that Harry had always been asked not to touch them. They were apparently very expensive and only for show. Her cats didn’t seem to agree and slept on them regardless of how often Mrs Figg chased them off.



Severus’s fingers tightened over his wand but he dropped back onto his knees before Harry. “Do you have a favourite animal?” He asked as he tapped his wand on the pillow. It shimmered through several different patterns before returning to its original colour.



“Erm...” Harry started as he blinked at the small pillow.



He really wasn’t sure, as he didn’t have much knowledge about animals. He knew enough about house pets, like cats, dogs, and hamsters, but Aunt Petunia hated animals and had never brought Harry to the zoo. Neither Dudley nor Uncle Vernon were fond of animal movies either, they far preferred racing games.



“I dunno.”



One of Severus’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps I could list a few, and you can stop me on one you like.”



Harry nodded quickly. He briefly worried about choosing the wrong animal and making Severus think he was weird, but that couldn’t happen if Severus was the one providing the options.



“Bear, tiger, or giraffe?” Severus asked.



“Erm—” Harry blinked down at the pillow and idly thought of how a giraffe would look as a stuffed animal, but shook his head ‘no’ after deciding against it.



“Cat, owl, or toad?”



“Is there one that’s magical?” Harry asked after a moment. “Like, a magical animal?”



“There are quite a few.” Severus nodded. “Dragons, hippogriffs, unicorns, some of which, I’m sure you’ve heard of even through muggle stories.”



Harry shook his head ‘no’ and bitterly regretted having done so seconds later. He wasn’t fantastic at maths, but he knew Severus gave him more than enough options to be getting on with, and that he didn’t need more choices.



Severus held his hand out for the pillow and Harry swallowed heavily as he turned it over. He didn’t fancy snubbing Severus’s kind attempt to make Harry feel more comfortable.



He disliked how constantly off-foot he felt, and almost wished he could return to his cupboard, if just for it’s routine.



“I think I know one you might like.” Severus said quietly after a moment.



He twirled his wand in an elegant move and the pillow gave a shiver before four long legs sprang out from the bottom as a long neck and head separated from the top. The colour melted into warm brown fur seconds later.



“It’s a doe.” Severus said in an awkward voice. “Your mother, I’m told, quite liked them.”



Harry knew it was illogical, but he felt significantly closer to the pillow than he had just moments before. It was only a pillow, but Harry’d never had a soft toy in his life, or at least he couldn’t remember if he had.



Severus handed it over and Harry was inwardly delighted by it’s size. It nearly took up his entire chest



“Does it have a name?” Harry asked as he curled around it in a tight hug. He felt enormously better having something to hold onto, though he didn’t quite understand why.



“I suppose you’ll need to do that.” Severus said as he looked toward the stack of books Minnie’d left behind. “Perhaps you’ll find a good name in one of these stories?”



He crossed the room and Harry trailed closely behind him.



“Do you have a story you’d prefer to read?” Severus asked as he squinted at the selection.



Aunt Petunia had never openly laughed at Harry when he’d asked her to read to him, but she’d always found a convenient excuse not to. Harry didn’t have any books anyone wanted to read to him anyway, at least, not many people found first year maths books to be very exciting bedtime stories.



Though, it did put readers to bed.



He shook his head ‘no’ and pointed to the top book, which he slowly sounded out to be ‘Babbity Rabbity’.



Severus gave a firm look at the bed before gesturing for Harry to climb up onto it. “Now, we’ll find out if this book lives up to the hype.” He said as he wrinkled his nose and read the back cover. His eyes narrowed on editor reviews, which nearly made Harry laugh, as wasn’t sure anyone cared about those on children’s books. Aunt Petunia’s book club certainly cared about reviews, though they often only read highly reviewed books.



“Have you not read it?” Harry asked as he snuck beneath the covers. “Minnie said it was a fan favourite.”



“It is,” Severus said. “Amongst those within your age range.”



“Oh.” Harry said dumbly. He supposed he should’ve thought of that, though in fairness to him, he hadn’t been able to really enjoy stories for his age before. He was fairly certain several of Dudley’s books were good and he’d have liked to go through them if he had ever had the chance.


He didn’t know how different they’d be from Severus’s average reading. Severus must’ve been Harry’s age once though, so wouldn’t he still have known whether or not the book was good?



Severus sat in the old rocker and flipped the book open as Harry tucked his new stuffed animal close beneath the covers.



His eyes flickered across the pages until he seemed to find the beginning and he began to read in a clear, quiet voice.




——




Harry awoke with a sharp gasp.



Sweat soaked into the sheets and clung to his skin in a sticky, wet mess.



A hazy and uncomfortable dream swam through his thoughts, but Harry couldn’t tell what it was about. Aunt Petunia’s voice rang shrilly in his ears, and he tried to plug them in order to make it stop, but it faded at it’s own pace.



He couldn’t remember where he was, nor why his cot was suddenly twice it’s usual size. The dark room swallowed light and Harry couldn’t tell where the crooked wooden walls of his cupboard began or ended. The small slats that’d always let a bit of light in were nowhere to be found.



Something soft hit him when he tried to roll over and see what the problem was, and he nearly shouted until he realized it was a stuffed doe.



It’s glassy eyes stared into Harry’s, and his brain made a sluggish leap before he realized he was at Hogwarts. He was in Severus’s flat, just as his bubbly luck had wanted. He’d spent several hours with Minnie, playing games and chatting until Severus returned.



Severus gifted him a plush doe, though he hadn’t found a name for it yet.



He pushed himself onto his elbows and grimaced as his pyjama top stuck to him.



He considered ignoring it and rolling over, as that was the only option he’d ever had in his cupboard, but he couldn’t be sure if he’d ruin the sheets by leaving a mess.



Aunt Petunia would’ve screamed if Harry left her sheets in this condition and they were ruined as a result.



He didn’t fancy ruining Severus’s things either, not when Aunt Petunia might’ve warned him about what sort of mess Harry might make if he had a room to himself.



He couldn’t be sure if she’d brought up his cupboard when they’d spoken either, as Severus hadn’t mentioned it.



If no one else brought it up, Harry certainly wouldn’t.



He grabbed his doe and tried to slip onto the floor, but he’d forgotten how tall this bed was and stumbled after hitting the ground hard. He tried to save himself by grabbing onto the bedside table, but only managed to knock it askew.



The sound echoed through the room and Harry froze in fear.



Severus hadn’t mentioned any particular rules about leaving the bed, but Harry knew well enough not to make noise after he was meant to be asleep.



No lights flickered from down the hallway, nor could Harry hear if Severus had woken up.



Maybe he was still lucky, though he didn’t think that was the case. He hadn’t felt the bubbly luck in days.



He reached up to try and find his glasses on the bedside table, but he only wound up grasping at air. He wondered if they’d fallen when he’d knocked into the table, and he tried to keep his steps light in case he accidentally stepped on them.



The switch to the lamp was out of his reach, and he blindly felt around for the plug, but he couldn’t find that either.



A fierce urge to cry washed over him at his own failures, but he determinedly stamped it out.



The sheets were more important to focus on. He looked at them and debated how he’d get them clean when he hadn’t seen a washing machine. Maybe Severus used magic to clean his things, but that wouldn’t work for Harry.



His fingers clenched around the doe in his arms and he debated asking how it would solve his problems, for all the good that would do, but the light in the bedroom flicked on seconds later.



Horror flooded through Harry and he spun around to find Severus’s blurry form in the doorway.



He wished he’d just stayed in bed. He knew better than to move around after hours. This sort of trouble followed him wherever he went and no matter how he tried, he never seemed to do the right thing.



Severus fixed his robe and slowly stepped into the room. “Did you have a nightmare?”



Harry stared blankly at him as he held his stuffed animal closer.



He couldn’t shake the feeling that it’d be taken from him for having woken Severus. He’d only just been given it, and he could tolerate a punishment like sleeping on the floor with a blanket and pillow, but he wanted to keep his doe.



It was difficult to guess what Severus thought when Harry couldn’t see him. The two seemed to be stuck in a blurry stalemate until Severus made a soft sound and carefully reached around Harry. He telegraphed his movements well in advance and grabbed something from the bedside table.



Moments later, Harry’s glasses appeared between his long fingers.



Harry worried Severus might hold them above his head and taunt him, which Dudley often enjoyed doing, but he silently held them closer instead.



It felt as if ages passed while Harry slowly dredged the courage to inch closer and closer, but the second his fingers touched the hard plastic frames, he snatched them away and settled them over the bridge of his nose.



The blurry room came into focus and with it, came Severus’s dark eyes. “What happened?” He asked with a gentle whisper.



Harry shook his head ‘no’ and darted away once more.



Severus rubbed a hand over his eyes and a deep seated exhaustion flickered across his face. He blinked around the room and seemed to struggle as he searched for something to say. “Do you—”



Harry tightened his grip on his doe and tried to think of something to say if Severus tried to take it.



He didn’t know if he could offer to trade the castle Minnie’d made for him, as it wasn’t really Harry’s, but maybe Severus would accept that instead?



He shivered beneath his sweaty top and shrank farther away when Severus frowned.



An oddly sad look creased over his forehead. “I once had a friend,” He started before swallowing heavily. “Who, whenever frightened, used to bring every light she could find into her bedroom.”



Harry’s grip loosened on his doe as he watched as Severus’s eyes flickered over the ceiling.



It didn’t seem like he wanted to take Harry’s stuffed animal, in fact, he seemed more likely to let him keep it, though Harry couldn’t be sure.



“Torches, table lamps, floor lamps, night lights, fairy lights,” Severus said in a soft voice. “She was also fond of weaving starflowers throughout them, when she could make them.”



The urge to do exactly as Severus’s friend had done, bubbled through Harry, though he wasn’t sure if he knew where all the lights in Severus’s flat were. He wasn’t sure if Severus would allow Harry to borrow them all either, but then, Severus had been the one to explain the idea.



“Do you think that might help?” Severus asked.



Harry nodded slowly. He had no bubbly luck to rely on, but was fairly certain Severus truly meant to help him.



It was still very odd how easily Severus offered help.



Harry didn’t quite understand it.



Severus stood and held his hand out for Harry, who nervously grabbed it



“I keep a few muggle torches in the bathroom,” Severus said as he led them through the short hallway and into the bathroom. “Maybe you’d like to pick a colour for them.”



“A colour?” Harry asked.



Severus hummed. “Sometimes, other colours are nicer than bright white.”



“Oh.”



They slipped from room to room as they gathered a curious collection of lights, though Harry struggled to understand how some could be lights until Severus charmed them.



Harry found he quite liked the lamps Severus charmed as well, and he put as many of them over the bed as he was allowed.



He’d forgotten about how much of a mess his nightmare’d created until he’d climbed back into the bed, but before he could explain what’d happened to wake him up, he found all signs of his nightmare had already disappeared. He tried to think back to when Severus might’ve cleaned it, but he’d been with Harry the entire time.



“You have quite a collection now.” Severus said as he settled a heavy brass lamp on top of the chest. “Do things look a little less frightening?”



Harry eyed his mismatched assortment before nodding.



He couldn’t decide which light was his favourite, but he liked how all of them were different from one another. He wondered where Severus had found so many kinds of lights as well, as all of Aunt Petunia’s lamps matched.



She liked order above most everything else though.



Harry searched over the assortment once more before remembering what Severus had said about his friend’s starflowers. He didn’t know what colour starflowers were, but he assumed they looked like stars, which seemed a sensible flower to hang with lights.



He tried to picture what colour might look nice next to the lights, and jolted backwards when small, brightly coloured flowers bloomed to life across the walls and fell to the floor.



Severus’s dark eyes widened on them before he twisted to look at Harry.



“I didn’t!” Harry said as he shook his head wildly and clutched his doe closer.



Severus stood concerningly still as an awkward silence sank around the room.



Harry tried to chase away his panic after remembering that magic was more normal than Aunt Petunia’d let on.



Just as well, Harry’d grown used to this awkwardness from Severus in the last few days, though he still wondered if Severus’s behaviour was more due to his having less experience with children, or if it was part of his personality.



“They’re normally blue, or light purple,” Severus said after a long moment. He plucked a flower that’d landed atop a table lamp and held it toward Harry.



It’s petals fluttered for a brief second before a pale blue tone filtered out along the edges.



Harry poked a nervous finger at it before gently picking it up.



“You’ve certainly caught their shape.” Severus said.



“You said it was a star.”



Severus nodded. “That’s its nickname, it’s also called borage.”



“Oh.”



Harry made a silent promise to be less frightened of Severus in the future. Throughout their strange few days, Severus had been kind, if a little rough. He acted as if he expected for Harry to hate him at any moment, much like Harry had come to expect from his own classmates and neighbours.



“Now that you’re a little less frightened, would you like to try reading another story?” Severus asked as he tapped his fingers over the short pile of books Minnie’d left behind.



The lights did make the room feel far more safe. Harry wondered if Aunt Petunia had ever helped Dudley by collecting lights.



He couldn’t remember hearing them running around the house and searching for lamps.



Harry snuck beneath the blankets and bundled himself soundly before setting his stuffed doe on his pillows. He debated his silent promise to Severus and looked up as he swallowed around a bubble of fear in his throat. “Can I read it with you?”



Severus paused from where he’d been slowly settling into the old rocking chair. He blinked at Harry for a long moment before giving him a short nod.



A warm feeling danced through Harry at the chance to read with someone and he quickly leapt from the bed.



They each needed a moment to situate themselves, as Harry still needed to negotiate through his weakening fear of being shoved away, and Severus looked unsure if Harry actually wanted to sit with him, but quicker than either of them expected, they’d settled comfortably.



Severus seemed to debate how best to share the book with Harry before he snaked an arm around him and tucked him close.



His previous awkwardness loosened, and he sank warmly, and comfortably around Harry. He flipped the book open and found the correct page.



He trailed his fingers below each word and read aloud.



“There were once three brothers, travelling along a lonely winding road.”

“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.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Severus asked as he rubbed his thumb over the soft fabric Minerva had given him. He could hardly tell what it was. It looked thick enough to be a jumper, but came attached to legs and a tail.

“Give it to Harry, of course.” Minerva said with a smile. She shook off a rain-damp overcoat and hung it over the rack as stepped around her desk. “I was in Hogsmeade for an appointment at The Tailors today and had a bit of time to spare, and I thought to myself, Harry really only has a school uniform and a few tops—”

Severus held the garment up. “And felt this would be a suitable addition?”

“Don’t you think he’d love a little lion onesie?” Minerva asked as she took the fabric from Severus and turned it over in order to hold it up correctly. Two fluffy ears appeared from within a small ruffled hood and dangled off the neck of the piece, while its long tail fell just below a set of pink paw prints that had been stamped onto its feet.

“It’s in all the catalogues, he’ll no doubt know what it is. It's all fleece, and quite warm too, many children wear them to bed.” Minerva said as she tilted it left and right. “There was a dolphin option as well, but well, how could I resist the lion?”

“He—” Severus started before stopping abruptly.

Harry hadn’t said anything about needing more outfits. Should Severus have asked?

How many outfits did a child need? Minerva hadn’t commented on the state of Harry’s wardrobe when she’d last seen it, so why had she begun to worry now? Severus, himself only had a few pairs of trousers and a handful of tops to match, not including his robes, but of those, he only had one for day wear and another for winter.

The small closet in Harry’s room flickered into his thoughts and he mentally plucked through its contents.

He counted out two, slightly large tops he would grow into, a school uniform, a pair of jeans and khaki trousers, a thick jumper, one shrunken set of pyjamas from the Hospital Wing, the coat Severus had transfigured for him, and his pants and socks. That was hardly less than what Severus had to wear, and about the same amount he’d had growing up. Severus could admit to having longed for a few more outfits when he’d been small, if he was being honest with himself, but it had little to do with vanity or his wants, and far more to do with cleanliness.

He clenched his jaw and stared once more at the soft fabric in Minerva’s hands.

He could easily imagine Harry enjoying the texture. Severus had little experience or understanding with what children wanted, but he knew Harry coveted the soft things. Whenever the two of them had time to sit together and read, Harry always rushed off to grab the grey blanket from the sitting room. He only ever chose that blanket, regardless of where they sat down to read, and claimed it was the softest one in the flat. Severus agreed, though he hadn’t ever given it much thought. He hadn’t given much thought to Harry’s behaviour either, and put it down to him finding comfort in a routine.

It’d taken Severus several days to realize Harry had taken to hiding other blankets.

He only ever hid one or two at a time and likely hoped Severus wouldn’t notice such a low number missing. Severus went looking for them once when Harry had lunch with Minerva and found one hiding in the linen closet surrounded by towels, and another in the coat closet, wrapped clumsily, if carefully, in scarves.

It seemed harmless enough, despite its oddity, and they weren’t being ruined, so Severus hadn’t felt the need to bring it up.

“Are you worried he’ll want a different animal?” Minerva asked, after Severus neglected to respond.

Severus blinked from his thoughts. “He is rather attached to his doe.”

“Oh,” Minerva hummed before pursing her lips and squinting at the small garment. “Well that’s easily fixed, would you hold it up for me?”

Severus stepped backwards and held it an arms length away for Minerva. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt far safer when he had as little physical contact with the item as possible. He’d never felt so unsure about an article of clothing, especially when there wasn’t an offending stitch sewn into it.

“It’s a light brown doe, is that correct?” Minerva asked. “No dappling?”

“Correct.” Severus said with a nod.

Minerva waved her wand with an artful flourish, making the fabric beneath Severus’s fingers give a small shiver. The ruffles over the hood flattened and blended together as the little ears widened into something more recognizable, while the long tail shrank upwards until a small fluffy tail replaced it. Even the pink paw prints fell away before creating the appearance of hooves.

A soft smile curved around Minerva’s lips. “I know better than to expect children to love everything you give them,” She said as she ran her fingers over the fabric. “But I do hope he likes it. If he hates it, don’t think twice before sending it back to me.” She said with a firm nod. “I won’t be upset.”

Severus stared at the outfit and forced himself to bring it closer. He couldn’t be sure, but it almost felt as if the doe was more worrying to touch than the lion. Perhaps it was because the outfit was such a gimmick, rather than a conventional article of clothing? Harry couldn’t wear it out around Hogsmeade, or even the dungeons. The small feet had protective pads, but would become too easily ruined if it were worn anywhere outside of his flat.

“Does he have very many toys yet?” Minerva asked before stepping back to lean against her desk.

“Aside from his doe, and your toys and books, no.” Severus answered as he carefully packed the outfit into his book bag. He tried to avoid touching it more than necessary, but accidentally brushed a hand over one of its wide ears.

Minerva clicked her tongue.

“He’s with Rubeus at the moment, I’m sure he’ll arrive home with more than one way to entertain himself.” Severus said with a lazy wave.

“Well,” Minerva raised a concerned eyebrow at him. “You may want to ensure nothing living comes home with him, unless you’re open to it. I once complimented Rubeus on a rug near his fireplace and he found me a similar one less than a week later.” Minerva turned around and stepped slowly toward her own fireplace. “Lovely craftsmanship, excellent quality,” She reached upwards and pulled open a small jar before tugging out a chunk of red meat. “Quite a gift.” She added before dropping the meat near the edge of a patterned Angora rug.

A neat seam in the rug split open to reveal a small mouth with rows of sharp teeth inside. Its patterned fabric wrinkled as it sniffed around for its dinner before freezing with an inhuman stillness.

“If I’d known he wasn’t just a rug, I’d have planned ahead and had meals prepared. Poor thing, he didn’t eat for three days. I only found out I needed to feed him when Rubeus asked me if I’d noticed if he had any intolerance to chocolate.”

The rug pounced and landed squarely on his meal.

“I doubt the lack of information was intentional,” Minerva said with a smile. “Rubeus just forgets we’re not all as well rounded with creatures as he is.” She added before waving at the rug. “I named him Dangerous Dai, after the chaser from the Caerphilly Catapults. I'm quite fond of him, despite the confusion.” She added before brushing a bit of ash away from the rug.

Severus grunted in agreement. He couldn’t decide if he’d rather take the rug back home to Harry, or onesie. At least the rug was as pleasing to look at as it was utilitarian. The onesie was worlds away from anything remotely resembling utilitarian.

“I doubt he would offer Harry anything too difficult to care for,” Minerva said as she twisted around once more to look at Severus. “Perhaps a glow bug would be a nice friend to have?”

“He already has a collection of lights,” Severus said, glad to finally have a chance to remark on something he felt successful about. “Several lamps, along with his Little Lights.” Harry was quite taken with his Little Lights. Severus had been unsure of how Harry would react when the lamps eventually returned to their rightful places following his nightmares, and in a bid to keep his happiness high, he’d charmed small lights to cascade down from the ceiling.

Without any other terminology to rely on, Harry named them Little Lights and sat beneath them for some time every day.

A quiet sadness washed over Minerva’s face, but rather than sharing where her mind had gone, she kept to herself. Severus knew how Minerva’s face changed when she thought of Harry’s parents though, and even more so, when she thought of Potter. Severus had no interest in listening to anecdotes about him. As far as he was concerned, unless Harry was present, his father never needed to be brought up.

“Well, let me know how he feels about the onesie,” Minerva said quietly. She brightened considerably as she turned and looked up at him. “And if he’d like to go shopping for anything else, and you’re busy, let me know. I wouldn’t mind taking him.”

Severus nodded and waved goodbye before making his way toward the grounds.

He debated how to address the gift with Harry in a way that would make it obvious the onesie was for him, which was a rather difficult task, despite sounding ridiculous. Before Harry had come into his life, Severus believed any child who failed to recognize an item so clearly advertised for them, would’ve been helpless. However, he’d recently discovered that when he tried to give Harry obvious children’s items, Harry reacted by trying to put them away.

It happened to the children’s starter quills, and parchment Severus found in the staff room. He’d given them to Harry yesterday morning hoping he’d enjoy drawing, and found them still blank and neatly stacked on top of Severus’s desk within the hour.

The very same occurred when Severus brewed colour and texture changing potions for Harry to play with one evening. He’d left the sitting room after handing the bottles to Harry, only to return and find them unopened and lined up near his potion’s cabinet.

The doe was the only toy he acknowledged as his. He never let it out of his sight.

He walked through the chilly courtyard and passed by groups of students in brightly coloured, flimsy windbreakers before heading toward the winding stone stairs, where he heard Harry’s voice echoing from down the hill.

“Can I give her one?” Harry asked.

“Sure ya can,” Rubeus answered in a bright voice. “Don’t worry about the pieces being too large, she’ll eat ‘em in whatever way she can get ‘em.”

Severus fervently hoped Rubeus hadn’t thought to donate a large animal.

“Don’t worry none about being too near her, either.” He heard Rubeus say as he rounded the hill and caught sight of Harry standing before a massive English Mastiff. He looked nervous about being so close, but remained near her in spite of his worry. One hand clutched his doe to his chest while the other wobbled nearer and nearer to the dog. “She’s gentle as they come. Her owner’s lookin’ to keep that trait in the family.”

“You can keep traits in families?” Harry asked as he looked upwards at Rubeus.

“Well sure, if ya get one that’s kinder than the rest, best to keep hold of it.” Rubeus said as he helped pull apart a large looking flank of steak. “If ya’ breed ‘em with another dog that’s kinder than he is mean, you’ll get kinder pups for it.”

“Intending on fostering dogs, Rubeus?” Severus asked as he stopped just before Rubeus’s garden.

“Oh, Professor Snape!” Rubeus said with a friendly wave. “No, I haven’t the heart for it, but a friend of mine does, I’m watching her dog for the week.” He said as he turned toward Harry. “Go on and introduce her to Professor Snape, just like we practiced.” He said in a loud whisper.

Harry twisted around and picked his way through a crowded, viney tangle of pumpkins, aubergines and courgettes. He stopped just before Severus and smiled shyly. “This is Patricia.” He said as he waved for the dog to come nearer.

Patricia lumbered forward and nudged Harry with her nose before dropping her head heavily onto his muddy trainers as she laid down.

“Oh, she’s supposed to lick your hand and sniff you.” Harry said as he wobbled and tried to pull Patricia upwards, while she still laid on his feet. “She’s, erm, she’s probably just tired.” He said after giving up and giving Severus an apologetic look.

“How pleased I am to make her acquaintance.” Severus said softly. Something in his chest ached at how quickly Harry tried to cheer Severus up in the face of the dog’s behaviour.

Harry rubbed his hands over her head and ears and tried to encourage her onto her feet once more, but she was determined to nap in the mud.

“How are you, Rubeus?” Severus asked after it became apparent Harry’s attention had wandered.

“Well, very well, thanks,” Rubeus smiled. “Harry and I were tending to the garden and found ourselves a new variety of bug. I think you’ll find them very interesting, hard-shelled little things. I don’t believe I’ve seen ‘em before, I think they might’ve stowed away in a crate of slug repellent?”

If he had the time, Severus felt sure he and Rubeus could’ve chatted for a while longer about the species of insect, both in terms of their usefulness to potions and the surrounding grounds, but Severus nodded instead to the sky and reigned in his curiosity. An oppressive thundercloud loomed overhead and seemed likely to cut any conversation short.

“I shall have to come out another day and chat with you.” Severus said as he looked upwards. “Harry and I should be inside before this hits, I believe.”

Several chattering students wandered near them, but Severus’s presence kept them from coming too close. It led him to wonder how many had stopped to see Harry, and how many had been polite in their curiosity, opposed to those who gawked.

“That’s had us runnin’ in and of the house at the drop of a hat, it has.” Rubeus said before turning toward Harry. “Let’s get you set to leave straight away then.” He plucked two faded, but crisp photographs from beneath a heavy stone on the front porch and crept carefully around his garden until he caught up to Harry. “Best not forget these, I’ll write you a letter with all the stories we talked about today,” He said as he knelt in the mud next to Patricia. “So you won’t have to worry about forgetting details.”

Thunder rolled overhead as Rubeus laid the photographs alongside a small item in Harry’s hands. Severus cast a subtly impervious charm on the photographs and dearly hoped Rubeus hadn’t left him with anything living, as Minerva’s rug flickered into his thoughts and visions of his destroyed flat quickly followed.

“He’s just small, I carved him from oak.” Rubeus said after catching Severus’s gaze.

Harry twisted a small carving in his hands and whispered a quiet, ‘thank you’ before giving Rubeus the best hug he was capable of with the dog still laying over his feet.

Rubeus helped pull Patricia upwards and stood, allowing Harry a chance to climb from the mud and make his way over to Severus. He waved at them until they rounded the hill and his garden and home disappeared from sight.

As they trekked back to the castle, a drizzle of rain scattered over them and quickly grew in speed and size until it built into a downpour. It washed over the stone steps, leaving a slippery, muddy slide in its place, which more than one student fell prey to as they rushed to climb them and get indoors. Severus longed to berate them for panicking about something as harmless as rain, but he couldn’t very well judge them for clumsiness, not when Harry stumbled just as often.

A small pile of students slid atop a thin stone slab, and fell multiple times as they hiked over it, leading Severus to reach down and tug Harry up into his arms as visions of him cracking his head open against the rocks flickered into his mind.

They found themselves in the Entrance Hall in a short amount of time, trailing muddy footprints with anyone else unlucky enough to have been caught outside.

Harry’s teeth chattered as he sniffled and rubbed the rain from his eyes while a growing crowd of interested children began surrounding them. Severus longed to cast several warming charms and drying spells on him, but given how much time Harry spent exploring outside today, he doubted any amount of magic would truly chase the chill from his bones. A bath, or fire would be far more helpful.

More and more eyes landed on them as they walked, making Harry sneak his rain-damp doe upwards near his face to act as a makeshift shield.

A soaked Hufflepuff brightened as Severus turned their way on his route toward the dungeons. “Is that Harry Po—”

“Don’t!” One of their housemates lunged forward and snagged their sleeve before tugging them away. “My brother’s in Slytherin. He said you’ll get detention if you ask.” They said with a theatrical pout.

Severus sneered.

Two days ago, Albus calmly announced Harry’s continued presence at Hogwarts and requested students be respectful and kind. However, within ten minutes of his announcement, Severus had been asked about Harry by no less than 14 students. The 15th student to ask received detention for ‘inappropriately prying into the private lives of others’, along with the 16th, 17th, and the 18th student. Severus almost expected to make it to 20, but by some small miracle, he hadn’t.

The excitement humming through the crowd dulled into bleak disappointment before thinning enough for Severus to push his way to the entrance to the dungeons. He slipped down the dank steps and through the narrow passageways until the front door to his flat appeared, where he whispered the password and stepped inside with a thankful sigh.

“Did you have a nice time at Mr Hagrid’s?” Severus asked as he gently set Harry onto his feet and dropped his book bag onto the floor next to him.

Harry nodded and rubbed at his eyes again.

“He didn’t give you anything living, did he?” Severus asked as he shook off his cloak and helped Harry pull his coat and trainers free. He idly caught sight of the photographs safely hidden from the rain within Harry’s jacket and noted Lily’s smiling face. “From what I saw, it was a carving.” He hoped again for Rubeus to have refrained from giving a five year old anything needing care.

“It’s a dog.” Harry said, sniffling again. “Just like Patricia, but I don’t think it’s alive.” He added before pulling the small carving from his pocket and holding it little ways away from his chest as he showed Severus. It looked quite a bit like the dog from the garden, though it had a wider snout and shorter ears. “Mr Hagrid said he’d carve me a cat too, so I could have a few to play with.”

Severus paused as he watched Harry carefully look over the small toy. It didn’t look as if he misinterpreted the gift, especially not after having acknowledged it as a toy.

He knew Rubeus’s behaviour around the exchange had a role to play in Harry’s acknowledgement of the toy, though he hadn’t truly appreciated the display for what it was. It had been strikingly similar to how Severus behaved when he’d gifted Harry the doe, though Severus still felt internally horrified with himself for having been so unsure at the time. Afterwards, In a bid to regain his confidence, he began treating Harry’s care as unquestionable and so utterly intrinsic to his life, that to stand on ceremony, or consider his own emotions in the face of any of his needs, would be seen as an infringement. He’d shoved every worried, guilty, grief-stricken feeling into a lock box and hid it in the back of his mind.

Harry needed a starter quill, and as such, he’d have one. The same went for educational toys, like the colour and texture changing potions.

The lock box presented its own share of difficulties however.

Even the briefest acknowledgement of emotions involved in caring for Harry broke it open and left Severus feeling choked and unsure, with guilt and grief crashing over him, no matter how much time had passed since he’d last slammed it shut and reburied it. He tried to be responsible, and clear headed when it came to his responsibilities, but he would never know if Lily approved of his actions, or if she actually wanted him anywhere near her son.

Harry would never know what she wanted either, thanks to Severus.

Transfiguring the doe and dancing around Lily’s memory had hurt more than Severus anticipated, though in its own strange way, sharing stories about her with Harry hurt less than when he’d tried to share them with Minerva, or Filius. He couldn’t bear to bring her up around either of them.

Perhaps that was because he knew Lily had wanted Harry to know her. She would’ve been delighted to learn how similar they were. She would’ve been proud of him.

Harry looked quite a bit like her at this age, and acted more like her than Severus had been prepared for. He’d been too shocked to comment when Harry showed the same talent in charms as her, after having created starflowers in his bedroom. Severus should’ve anticipated his kindness as well, but it hadn’t been readily apparent until he thanked Molly Weasley for taking the time to teach him, despite the fight that’d broken out amongst her children and Severus’s clear displeasure with them.

Harry had every right to dislike the Weasley children, and if he were meant to model Severus’s behavior, as children were, acting similarly rudely wouldn’t have been odd. Severus almost put Harry’s actions down to politeness and Tuney’s impact, with how she valued etiquette, but then, Harry hadn’t only been polite.

He’d been kind.

“Why?” Harry asked. “Has Mr Hagrid ever given you anything living?”

Severus cleared his throat and guided Harry toward the bathroom. “No, however, in his kindness, Mr Hagrid has a tendency to forget that not everyone enjoys receiving pets they aren’t prepared to care for.”

“He told me pets are just friends that don’t always speak English.” Harry said. He stepped carefully over the floor runners and seemed determined to drip on them as little as possible.

Somehow, Severus could see the logic in his statement. He felt similarly about books, though the ones he chose often came in English.

“The same could be said of toys,” Severus said as they entered the bathroom. “They’re far less likely to come to harm, and easier to care for.” He added before pulling down several towels from the linen cupboard. He caught sight of Harry’s eyes tracking over the bottom shelf and carefully kept his attention to the top shelves just in case Harry worried too much about his hiding place being found. “I would say you could towel off, but I doubt exploring Mr Hagrid’s garden was a clean way to spend the afternoon. I would rather you bathe now and avoid catching a cold, or the flu.”

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together and his nose wrinkled as he looked himself over.

“The bathroom is charmed if you wanted to try to do it on your own,” Severus said as he flicked his wand over the room and reminded himself of how protected the room was. Albus and Filius had seen to those charms themselves, worried as they were for children with access to bathtubs and razors. “Unless you would like help?”

A slight hesitancy flickered over Harry’s face, but he nodded and handed his doe to Severus before freeing himself from his muddy jeans and damp jumper. They hadn’t quite worked out a comfortable routine around bathing, but as with most physical tasks, it was apparent what steps needed to be taken.

He rolled up his sleeves and found himself idly compiling a list of needs he had yet to satisfy while he filled the tub and helped Harry lather his hair.

Harry needed to begin attending school again, and though Severus doubted the Weasley’s were a reasonable weekly solution, Harry had expressed an interest in visiting with the two younger Weasley children. Severus bit back against an ironic smile at the thought of one of Harry’s most pressing issues being a lack of education when he lived in a school. More than one professor had offered to tutor him, but Severus knew that would be difficult when they had hundreds of other students to concern themselves with. Harry should be around other young people anyway.

Severus waved his wand over the water and enjoyed the small amount of pride trickling through him as Harry excitedly explored the glittery colours circling within the water.

Procuring bath toys would probably be a smart choice. Severus couldn’t help but wonder how Harry would react to them and whether or not he would understand they were his. Minerva’s offer to shop for him rang in his ears, and he idly recalled the onesie he’d packed into his book bag little less than an hour ago.

If there were ever a time to bundle into a warm, soft fabric, it would be just after a bath.

He swallowed heavily. He still didn’t know why the outfit bothered him so much, especially considering how he wasn’t about to wear it, nor was anyone about to tease Harry if it turned out he liked it.

Rubeus’s kind manner bloomed in his thoughts, and Severus thought of how thankful Harry had been to receive the toy carving and photographs. Severus didn’t need to gush about the onesie’s features or encourage Harry to like it, in order for him to realize an item was meant for him. He just needed to emulate Rubeus.

He’d already done exactly that once before, when he gave Harry the doe, though he wanted to avoid the feelings it’d brought about. Rubeus hadn’t clawed through waves of grief by giving Harry photographs though, or if he had, Severus hadn’t noticed.

He longed to be as calm and weightless as Rubeus at that moment, and bitter jealousy burned through him as the thought of how easily Rubeus had been able to not only give Harry photos, but to also share memories. He seemed innately aware that the people depicted in photographs were more important than the photograph themselves, though Severus had yet to accept the same conclusion.

The lock box rattled in the back of his mind.

The onesie had nothing to do with Lily in the first place, so all of Severus’s discomfort was entirely imagined. An imagined fear couldn't come close to a real one.

Severus cleared his throat as he finished helping Harry rinse the soap off. “Let’s get you dried off,” He said as he pulled down a large towel. “And afterwards, I have a gift for you, from Minnie.”

Curiosity lit up in Harry as Severus wrapped him in a towel, collected his doe, and led him out into the hallway. Harry glanced confusedly between his bedroom and Severus when they passed by it, but didn’t question why they hadn’t gone inside. His small feet poked out from beneath the towel, making Severus wish he’d thought to bring his book bag into the bathroom, rather than lead Harry onto cold stone flooring.

The tab on Severus’s book bag popped open and he shoved past his discomfort at touching the soft fabric as he knelt and pulled the outfit free. “It’s,” He began before a thick lump lodged itself in his throat. “Pyjamas.”

Harry’s fingers clenched around the hem of the towel. His eyes raked over it before he reached a nervous finger out and gently brushed over the fleece.

Severus felt his shoulders relaxing unconsciously at the reaction, as Harry had repeated the same gesture with the grey blanket in the sitting room each time he used it. Minerva would be delighted to discover Harry enjoyed her gift. “Would you like to try it on?”

Harry nodded wildly and eagerly trailed behind Severus as they maneuvered toward his bedroom. The lump in Severus’s throat tightened after Harry bumped into his legs twice, though Severus couldn’t bring himself to react with his usual annoyance. Harry had yet to take his eyes off the outfit and it would be quite difficult to look where he was going when he couldn’t seem to break away from staring.

It took them several minutes before Harry was fully dressed, given how difficult Harry found it to sit still while Severus helped him fully dry off and zip up the outfit.

He cast several warming and impervious charms over the fabric before deeming Harry dressed, handing him his doe and following him out into the sitting room, where Harry thanked him several times before quickly finding one of the books Minerva gave to him.

“Can I read with you?” Harry asked as he held ‘The Wizard and the Hopping Pot’ up.

Severus nodded and dropped onto the sofa while Harry tugged the grey blanket free and pushed it against Severus.

Perhaps the truth behind Severus’s aversion to the onesie lay buried in the lock box beneath his grief. He could admit to himself though, after having learnt of Harry’s love for the outfit, that seeing him snuggled comfortably into his new pyjamas, beside him on the sofa with his doe and book, would’ve been something Lily wanted. Her son’s happiness was more important than Severus’s guilt. The onesie and Harry’s delight in it, may as well have been made in her image.

It seemed as if it was always meant to come to him. Her death only postponed its arrival.

He brushed a careful hand over the fleece hood and wondered when the lump had disappeared from his throat as he quietly began reading aloud to Harry.