Severus sat at the dining table grading essays once more, hoping to finish the last couple of grade groups he had so he would be work free for the last week and half of the holidays. He managed to get halfway through the sixth years’ stack of papers when Harry entered the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. The child had aged up to an eleven-year-old that morning, and Severus figured he could set Harry to work on his winter assignments for the morning to keep the child busy.

               “I finished Transfiguration and Charms,” Harry said, “Can I go outside and fly now?”

               “Bring me your assignments,” Severus said as he returned to marking up the paper in front of him.

               “What?” Harry asked. “Why?”

               “So, I may review them and make any necessary corrections,” Severus said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Why else?”

               “I’m sure they’re fine, besides, you’re not even the professor for those classes.”

               “So that renders me incapable of looking over your work?”

               “I didn’t mean that . . . I just . . . I don’t know, I’d rather not do them over again. No one else has a professor correcting their work over the break.”

               “Then you should be grateful to have such an opportunity presented to you. While you are here, under my roof, I expect you to give one hundred percent to your homework, which includes allowing me to check it over to be sure you’ve done adequately, and perhaps assist you in where you may be struggling. It’s not as if you have much else to do while we wait until your next age up, so why not take advantage?”

               “Because there’s a lot I’d rather do than work on homework for the rest of the break,” Harry muttered, not moving from where he hovered in the doorway.

               “Quit the dramatics,” Severus scolded, glancing up at Harry. “There is plenty of time yet to enjoy your break while fitting in an appropriate amount of study time. Go bring me your essays or there will be no flying at all today.”

               Harry huffed and headed back for his bedroom where he had been working at Severus’s desk. Severus rolled his eyes and finished marking up an essay before setting it on top of the growing stack. He glanced over the next one, his eyes scanning over several spelling mistakes already and his upper lip curled the slightest. Honestly, if the sixth years could not even bother to glance at their books for correct spelling, they would not advance to their seventh-year classes. Harry reappeared with his essays and begrudgingly handed them over to Severus, a clear pout on his face.

               “Sit,” Severus commanded as he accepted the parchment and began glancing over Harry’s work.

               Harry hesitated, then pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, resting an elbow on the table and leaning his head into his hand.

               “Elbows off the table,” Severus said without even looking up.

               He could feel Harry narrow his eyes at him before he obeyed and rested his hands in his lap. Severus focused on marking a few incorrectly spelled words then wrote down a suggestion for a chapter in Harry’s book to help the child better summarize his sad theory on vanishing spells. He recalled struggling with transfiguration himself, but the fifth-year book had been very helpful in grounding the concepts behind transfiguration, and he recalled the chapters in the book well.

               He handed the paper back to Harry and then began scanning his Charms paper. He heard Harry groan at having to redo any of his work.

               “Don’t you think this is unfair?” Harry said. “No one else is getting graded over the break.”

               “I did not grade it,” Severus corrected. “I am merely suggesting where you can improve. Your attempt at theory tells me you have little understanding on how the vanishing spell works.”

               “Well, I don’t get how it works,” Harry growled, pushing the parchment away. “How can something be vanished into “non-being.” It’s not possible.”

               “And why is that?”

               “Because you can’t send something into nothing. It doesn’t exist.”

               “So your rationale is that there cannot exist “nothing?””

               “Yes. There can’t.”

               “And you’d be correct. But we are not talking about vanishing something to nothingness. We are talking about conjuring something into being then sending it back into nonbeing. Or for some matters, conjuring something already being into nonbeing.”

               “But that’s still sending it to nowhere.”

               “It is not. Through your years of Transfiguration, you were taught physics, yes?”

               Harry nodded.

               “Do you recall the Schwinger effect?”

               “It was on our exam last year,” Harry said, frowning in thought. “I think I answered it correctly. It has to do with creating matter through electric charges, right?”

               “In simplest terms, yes. Think of the Schwinger effect as a hypothetical vacuum that we believe exists in a semi-stable state, full of all the particles needed to create matter, but unable to do so without the right electric fields. That is where you come in. Your wand is going to present a strong electric field to charge those particles, and with the correct wand movements, will rearrange them in the form you are creating. Those particles are yanked out of that vacuum and made real into—I don’t know, a rabbit or a bird, what have you.”

               “Well, that explains where they come from,” Harry said, looking down at his essay with mild interest and understanding. “What about when you’re supposed to make them disappear again?”

               “Those particles aren’t going to just disappear,” Severus explained, steepling his fingers as he gave Harry his full attention now that Harry seemed mildly interested. “Rather, their arrangements are changed. Instead of charging the particles, you take the charge away and reassemble the particles back into the semi-stable state they were in before you pulled them from the vacuum. Done correctly, they return to the hypothetical vacuum they came from, waiting to be conjured into some other form of matter.”

               “That makes a lot more sense,” Harry said slowly. “Why didn’t Professor McGonagall just tell us that?”

               “I’m sure she did,” Severus said, raising a brow at Harry. “Perhaps it simply didn’t click then. Or maybe you did not take appropriate notes in class. Surely, you are not goofing off during her lessons?”

               Harry blushed at that. He shook his head.

               “I don’t goof off in her class. And taking notes of everything she says is hard. Sometimes I don’t catch everything or write fast enough.”

               “Then perhaps you should have asked your teacher for clarification when class was over. Or compare notes with your classmates? Your schoolbooks?”

               “I do. Sometimes.”

               “Hmm. Sometimes.”

               “Most of the time, I mean.”

               Severus stared Harry down intently until the child looked away.

               “Why don’t you tend to the adjustments I made on your essay while I finish looking over your Charms work. Once you have completed both papers and shown me, you may fly until lunch.”

               Harry grinned, snatching up his paper to run back to his room. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at Severus.

               “Thanks for helping me understand the theory, sir,” Harry said.

               “Think nothing of it. It is my job to teach after all.”

               Harry smiled at that, then ran off to his room. Severus hesitated at the warmth he could feel emit from Harry’s smile, but he shook his head and refocused on looking over Harry’s essay. Why did he bother assisting Harry with his work? Perhaps it gave him something else to read over that wasn’t a sad attempt at his own Potions assignments. After all, it had been refreshing to review another subject he didn’t often get to discuss with his students.

               Severus finished the Charms assignment Harry had handed him, then returned to grading. Harry reappeared a few moments later with his revised paper and a quill. He handed it over to Severus, who accepted it and read it quickly. He nodded and handed it back to Harry.

               “A more evident understanding,” Severus said, ignoring the way Harry beamed at him. “I’ve made a few minor corrections on your Charms paper, but it seems you have a good grasp on the theory behind the summoning charm.”

               “I had a bit of a head start with that one,” Harry confessed as he sat down across from Severus, pulling the Charms paper close. Harry paused, glancing up at Severus with a cautious expression. “You don’t mind if I rewrite my paper here, do you?”

               “Not at all,” Severus said, already grading once more.

               Even though his head was down as he marked up papers, he did not miss Harry’s smile. The two worked side by side for a half hour with only the occasional scritch of the quill on parchment breaking the silence. Once Harry had completed his work and Severus had looked it over, Harry was granted permission to fly. Severus removed the rest of the safety charms and restrictions he had placed on the broom, though he gave Harry several warnings that he better not see any wild stunts. While Harry flew around the property for an hour or so, Severus finished the rest of his grading. He was waving his hand over the assignments, sending them back to his desk at Hogwarts to be handed back to students upon their return at Hogwarts when Harry came running inside.

               “Sir, I just saw Comet move!” Harry exclaimed.

               “I told you they weren’t dead,” Severus said. He glared at Harry’s muddy boots. “What have I told you about shoes in the house?”

               “Sorry,” Harry said, not appearing the least bit apologetic as he slipped off his boots and set them in the mudroom.

               Severus rolled his eyes and vanished the muddy mess that had been left in the hallway.

               Later that evening, Harry assisted in the kitchen with dinner, adding a few of his own touches to the bangers and mash, making a thick but savory gravy from scratch. It was a simple meal, but Harry had managed to turn it into a restaurant worthy item and Severus tried not to show how much he enjoyed the gravy as he helped himself to seconds, pouring a little extra paste over his food.

               “I take it you like it,” Harry said with a cheeky smile.

               “You are an adequate cook, Potter,” Severus said, refusing to give any more praise than that. “With your attention to detail in the kitchen, you’d think you’d be able to apply those same skills to your Potions lessons.”

               “Yeah, well . . .” Harry glanced down at his food. “You never made it easy.”

               Severus felt a small pang of regret for bringing up Harry’s abysmal performance in Potions class, a feeling that caught him off guard. As much as he wanted to accuse Harry of never paying attention and fooling around in his class with his friends, even if some of the time was true, the reason Harry did so poorly in his class was likely his own doing. He had targeted Harry from the very beginning, belittled him, taunted him, and even bullied a child over past rivalries and resentment. It was his fault Harry had little respect for him, and while a couple weeks ago he wouldn’t have cared, now, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

               “No, I did not,” Severus said after a moment. “You could have, however, taken the chance to prove my wrong by performing outstandingly in the class.”

               “Why?” Harry said. “You still wouldn’t have liked me.”

               “That does not mean I grade unfairly. There are many students I do not like, but they do well in class despite it. I hardly like your friend Miss Granger, but she has yet to receive anything lower than Exceeds Expectations from me.”

               “I know. It just always seemed personal when it came to me. You were always comparing me to my dad, even when you brought me here and I was still a baby. Did he . . . do something to you?”  

               “Even if he had, I should not have taken it out on you. And as I told you last night, I was wrong to treat you the way that I have. You did not deserve any backlash from the grudge I carried for years.”

               “You didn’t answer my question.”

               “That is all the answer you are going to get.” Severus finished his meal before abruptly standing, ending this odd conversation he found himself in. “Clean up the kitchen, wash the dishes, then amuse yourself quietly in the house. I must leave now and will not be back until late tonight.”

               “What?” Harry frowned at Severus. “Where are you going?”

               “That is none of your concern.”

               “It’s not a . . . a meeting, is it?”

               Severus quirked a brow at Harry, but the child kept talking before Severus could say anything in response.

               “It is a meeting! I knew it. Why do you have to go? Can’t you skip one? Does he torture his followers at the meetings? I bet he does, I can feel when he’s angry, you know, and I’ll think the worse while you’re gone! What if you don’t come back? What if—”

               “Will you calm down?” Severus snapped. “You’re working yourself up over nothing entirely.”

               “Nothing? It’s Voldemort!”

               “Do not—” Severus closed his eyes and bit back what he had been going to say. He took a deep breath before saying, “Please refrain from using that name.”

               “Dumbledore says—”

               “I know what he says!” Another deep breath and Severus opened his eyes and narrowed them at Harry. “Humor me. I will return later this evening, most likely unharmed. And I expect you to stay in this house while I am absent. I’m serious about that, Potter, do not leave this house while I am not here. And you better mind my rules and be sound asleep upon my return. Your bedtime does not change.”

               Harry played with the last bit of food on his plate, a pout on his face. Severus sighed and summoned his black cloak, swinging it over his shoulders.

               “Frilly will assist you in the event of an emergency,” Severus said, “which will be highly unlikely, but she is there as a precaution. And seeing as you are eleven once more.”

               Severus pulled out Harry’s wand from an inner pocket of his robe and handed it over to the child, who accepted it quickly.

               “Really? You’re giving it back?”

               “I had no plans on keeping it. The rules for magic use outside of school still apply, however. That is for emergency use only.”

               “Yes, sir. Thank you. Do you have to go?”

               “Unfortunately, so. Take a bath before bed, try not to drown.”

               Harry snorted at that and nodded.

“Be careful, sir.”

Severus hesitated for a moment, then headed for his floo without another word, grabbing a handful of powder. He disabled a few security wards wordlessly, knowing they would fire back up the moment he vanished from the fireplace. He was honestly surprised at Harry’s concern over his most hated professor, though Severus wasn’t even sure what Harry was considering Severus at the moment. Their relationship had taken an odd turn, he wasn’t sure when, and he couldn’t quite place how, but it was not the same as when he had brought the little baby bundle of trouble to his safe place.

It was nearly midnight when Severus returned to the cottage, and he moved through the dark house out of muscle memory, stopping in Harry’s bedroom first. Harry was faced away from the doorway, lying on his side with the snake plush snuggled against him. Harry’s wand was on the nightstand next to the bed. Severus tiptoed into the room, just to check on Harry was all.

As if Harry had sensed his presence, Harry looked over his shoulder, blinking blearily.

“You’re back,” Harry said sleepily.

“Astute observation,” Severus remarked, crossing his arms. “It is good to see that you can follow directions when you put your mind to it.”

“I did everything you said to the letter,” Harry said, sitting up. “Except sleep. I tried to, but I could feel his anger. Are you okay?”        

“I am fine. He was not angry at any of his followers. This time, anyway.” Severus peered closer at Harry, casting a lumos on his wand as he did so. Harry’s scar was flaring red and a small trickle of blood dripped from the scar. “Your scar is bleeding.”

“It does that sometimes,” Harry said. “Especially when he’s really mad.”

Severus frowned, summoning a cloth, and dampening it with his wand. He sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed, gently cleaning the wound before holding the cool cloth to Harry’s scar for a moment. Harry seemed to lean into the feeling of the cloth.

“Thanks. So no one got hurt at the meeting?”

“No one was hurt. Though that is hardly—”

“My concern, I know, I know.”

“Watch your cheek.”

Harry smiled at Severus, waiting as the man checked his scar then readjusted the cloth against it.

“While you were gone, I realized something,” Harry said.

“Something that will not get you into trouble, I hope.”

“No. My memories.” Harry frowned in thought. “Sometimes, I remember things like they just happened yesterday, which they did. But sometimes, they seem so far away, like they happened a long time ago. Our Christmas seems like it happened way before last Christmas at Hogwarts did.”

“That’s not surprising,” Severus said.

“Really?”

“Not at all. Your brain is storing the memories of yourself at certain ages where similar memories exist. At least, what appears to be similarly aged memories. Doing so is most likely less complex on the mind.”

“That explains why I vaguely remember being a baby.”

“Oh, trust me, you don’t want to remember that horrifying age.”

Harry laughed, and Severus smiled despite himself. He remembered what he was doing, and gently pulled the cloth away from Harry’s scar. It wasn’t bleeding now and looked less angry, and Severus adjusted the light from his wand to study it better.

“There,” he said, gently brushing Harry’s hair away from the scar, catching his action and quickly pulling his hand away. “That looks better. How does it feel?”

“Better,” Harry said, a smile still on his face. “Thank you, sir. You know, it almost feels like I grew up here now.”

“You did,” Severus said with a smirk. “In a sense, you very much did.”

“I liked it,” Harry said softly, fiddling with Fangs in his lap. “I can pretend to have good childhood memories now.”

Severus slowly frowned, that strange pestering feeling he’s had the last couple days returning in his chest. He still couldn’t recognize it, so he ignored it in favor of clearing his throat and pulling the blanket back some so Harry could lie back down under it.

“You should try to sleep now. You can assist me with your potion tomorrow, so you will want to be up bright and early. We can refine some of those potion skills I should have helped you with in the beginning.”

Harry’s smile seemed to widen at that, then, instead of getting under the blanket, Harry crawled over the bed and wrapped his arms around Severus’s shoulders, resting his head against his shoulder as well. Severus froze, every muscle within him tensing.

“Thank you for everything, sir,” Harry said softly. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot.”

Severus realized Harry was thanking him for more than just reaging him again. This was about the memories Harry now carried, the feelings they gave the child, and the temporary home Harry had found. This was far more than Severus had ever intended to let Harry walk away with from this experience. Yet, he would not take back a minute of the time they had shared. Harry had reminded Severus of many reasons to keep fighting this war for, of the good that still existed in the world. This was probably the first Christmas he could look forward to remembering in a very long time.

Slowly, Severus brough his own arms around Harry, offering a brief squeeze before he pulled Harry away, gently pushing the child down in the bed. Harry allowed himself to be tucked in, still smiling at Severus. Did that smile ever die?

“It is late,” Severus said, standing up quickly and dimming his wand light. “Try to sleep now.”

Harry rolled on to his side once more, hesitating as he nearly brought his arm around the snake plush and instead rested his hand next to the toy, clearly aware of Severus’s presence in the room still. Severus held back a snort at Harry’s obvious attempt to hide his attachment to the toy and left the room. As he headed for the kitchen for a nightcap, he still had phantom arms lingering around him, and the warmth in his chest sparked up with the unrecognizable emotion he’d felt the last few days. What it was finally jumped into existence in the same way the Schwinger effect conjured and vanished things.

               He was fond of the child.

               When did that happen?

               No matter, tomorrow, he would brew the age up, Harry would be back to normal the next day, and he could leave back to Hogwarts. And Severus could go back to living his solitary life in his peaceful Escape Cottage.

               As Severus filled a nightcap and stepped out into the living room as he sipped it, the unicorn horn dust from the tree caught his eye, and he turned to stare at the Christmas tree still standing in his living room, adorned in all the potion ingredients Harry collected, a cauldron keeping it upright. Severus tilted his head at it, smiling softly, that warmth in his chest spreading more, and he felt a conflict erupt in his head. He was going to miss Harry’s presence.

               Who knew spending a couple weeks watching a child grow up from babyhood to teenagerhood would really leave an impact on one’s life? As uncomfortable as these new emotions were for Severus, they were not negative emotions, and he welcomed the change from the neutral and negative feelings he was accustomed to. They reminded him of his relationship with his mother many years ago before her passing, and those were all fond memories. They reminded him of his friendship with Lily, and those were more fond memories. He had resigned himself to a lonely life after Lily’s death. He never imagined her son would try to break those walls he had built.

               One more dose, he thought to himself as he downed the nightcap and headed for his bedroom. One more dose and Harry would be free to return to his own life.

               Why did that leave him feeling so dejected?

               The next day, Severus had Harry refine his chopping and mincing with the herbs for the potion first. He set the turtle heads, witches sweets, rue, and devil’s shoestring in a row on the table for Harry to chop or mince based on the recipe’s instructions. Severus corrected Harry’s technique to effectively mince in a cleaner and even pattern. Once Harry was done, Severus looked over his work and nodded, and Harry beamed and asked for the next task.

               “These are imported white mulberry leaves,” Severus said, handing over a counted-out number of leaves to Harry, who accepted them and waited patiently. “A very fast-growing tree, so naturally, the leaves gift the potion with power of growth, exactly what we are looking for. Go ahead and rip those up.”

               “Rip them?” Harry clarified.

               “Yes.”

               “A certain way, or . . .”

               “No, just rip them. Shred them up.”

               With no further persuasion, Harry ripped the leaves up in his hands, mindful to keep the mess over the clean lab table as he shredded the leaves into as tiny bits as he could. Severus smirked at Harry’s enthusiasm as the child finished ripping up what he could, digging through the mess on the table to see if there were any more pieces he could make smaller. When he found none, he looked at Severus.

               “You seemed to enjoy that,” Severus said.

               “Well, it’s not often an instruction isn’t so precise, you know?” Harry said, absently picking through the leaf pile. “Usually, the potions want a teaspoon of this, thirteen pieces of this, twenty-two stirs spread out in one minute.”

               “That is no different than cooking,” Severus said. “While cooking can be a little more forgiving than potions, it is the same concept. Patience, diligence, and having things prepared ahead of time certainly helps. Now, bring everything to the cauldron, it’s finally boiling.”

               Harry added all the ingredients he had prepared so far into the cauldron and stirred twelve times clockwise then once counterclockwise. They watched it boil for ten minutes before Severus turned down the heat and pointed to his shelves.

               “Grab two flitterby moths and a monarch butterfly,” Severus said.

               Harry carefully removed the specimens from their containment and handed them over to Severus, who shook his head and motioned Harry to toss them in the cauldron.

               “The whole thing?”        

               At Severus’s nod, Harry dropped the specimens into the cauldron, then Severus added a sprinkle of unicorn horn dust, and Harry watched mouth agape as the butterfly and flitterby moths dissolved into the lightly tanned water in a matter of seconds.

               “The potion has to return to a boil before the next ingredient, so go find my jar of jackalope horn shavings and bring it here.”

               Severus slowly brought the heat back up while Harry searched for the jar in question. Thankfully, Severus was very OCD and everything he had was in alphabetic order with clear labels and dates, and Harry returned with the necessary jar. Severus handed Harry a beaker and Harry measured out a quarter of a cup of the shavings before dumping it into the boiling potion. Severus stirred seven times while Harry put the jar back. Harry returned and waited patiently while Severus stared down at his watch. Severus glanced up at Harry after a minute.

               “Trimmings of an owl feather, Harry,” Severus said. “An Eagle Owl, preferably. This needs to boil for ten minutes before the next ingredient is added.”

               Harry nodded and found the correct feather fairly quickly. He looked through Severus’s tools and found the scissors he would need, then returned to the table and began trimming the barbs of the feather, taking small pieces at a time, until all that remained of the feather was the shaft, and all the trimmings waited in a small fluffy pile on the table. Harry carefully collected the trimmings and looked at Severus, who was staring at his watch once more. Finally, Severus looked at Harry and nodded his head.

               Harry added the trimmings, and a small grey puff of smoke shot into the air, startling Harry. He grinned as the potion began to swirl in strange colors of grey and light blue. Severus slowly added a cup of arrowroot powder while stirring at the same time, then returned the potion to a simmer.

               “One more step,” Severus said as he set a timer next to the cauldron, “but the potion will simmer for exactly thirty-six minutes before we can add it. You did very well today, Harry. You were focused and paying close attention to what you were doing, as well as paying attention to my directions.”

               “Thank you, sir.” Harry beamed at Severus. “I had a lot of fun. This was kind of easy, too.”

               “Yes, it helps to have a fairly simple process along with non-difficult ingredients.”

               “So . . .” Harry glanced at the potion then back at Severus. “Can I fly for a bit before the next step?”

               Severus rolled his eyes. Of course, he couldn’t hold Harry’s attention for very long.

               “You may. I will call you back in a bit before the timer rings. But once we do the final step and the potion simmers for the rest of the day, I want you to work on one more assignment before you do anything else. You still have several classes homework’s you haven’t touched.”

               “But I still have all break.”

               “It will fly by before you know it. There is no reason you cannot work on an assignment today.”

               “Fine. But when I’m done, I can fly again?”

               “After I’ve reviewed it and you’ve made any necessary revisions, yes, you may fly again.”

               Harry groaned but nodded in agreement. He headed out of the lab, muttering very lowly as he passed, “Maybe it wouldn’t have been fun having a professor for a father.”

               Severus nearly missed what Harry had said, and he froze as he comprehended the words before he looked out the door, but Harry had already disappeared. He knew Harry hadn’t meant for him to hear what he said, but the words weighed heavily on Severus’s mind as he stepped out of the lab and into the hall, glancing out the back door to see Harry flying on the broom.

               Deciding to let it slide, Severus sat in his living room and picked up the article on neutralizing venom and poisons in matters of seconds as he never did get to finish it. He managed to complete the article before the timer went off, and he called Harry back inside just in time. He silenced the timer and summoned a small container, dumping the small green and yellow plants out on the table.

               “This is mallowsweet,” Severus said. “Pluck the yellow flowers off and crumble them in your hand, then drop them in one at a time.”

               Harry did as Severus said, crumbling the flowers in his hand, getting yellow dust all over his fingers and palm, before he dropped each flower one by one into the cauldron. He hesitated on the fifth one and looked at Severus.

               “How many?” he asked.

               “Perhaps you should have asked before you started,” Severus said. “Add in three more and we’ll be done.”            

               Harry finished adding in the needed flowers and brushed his hand off on his trousers.

               “What would have happened if I added more than that?”

               “The mallowsweet helps tie in all the ingredients together while adding the final pinch of magic for the potion to perform what it is intended for. Adding a few more flowers would not have influenced it greatly, though you may have wound up with a stronger flavor in the potion.”

               Harry scrunched his nose.

               “It tastes awful enough. Glad I didn’t add any more.”

               Severus smirked at Harry.

               “We’ll let it simmer now. Go work on that assignment you promised me.”

               “You mean the one you’re forcing me to work on,” Harry mumbled as he headed for his bedroom.

               Later that night, Severus was sitting in his armchair for some quiet time, sipping tea and reading a potions journal. Harry was sitting on the sofa across from him dressed in his night clothes, biting his nails and casting a glance at Severus every now and then while pretending to read a book. Severus had tried to ignore Harry at first as the child was clearly holding something back, but after nearly ten minutes of this, Severus caved.

               “What is it?” Severus asked.

               “Oh, err, nothing,” Harry said, quickly looking back at the book.

               “You keep looking at me and dancing on the sofa as if you’ve got ants in your trousers, clearly there’s something you want to ask?”

               Harry was silent for another minute as he bit his lower lip, frowning at the book for a moment before he said, “I should be fifteen again tomorrow.”

               “Yes, you should be.”

               “That means I can go back to Hogwarts.”

               “Yes, you could.”

               Harry glanced up at Severus, then looked back down.

               “I was wondering . . . do I have to go back to Hogwarts, tomorrow?”

               Severus frowned slightly, not saying anything for a moment as he studied Harry, that feeling returning to his chest once more. Of all the things he thought Harry might ask or say, he had not been expecting that.

               “If it’s okay,” Harry added, his voice wavering slightly as he fiddled with the book in his hands. “I mean, if you don’t mind me staying a couple more days or however long, I guess.”

               “Why not stay the rest of break?” Severus asked, surprising himself.

               Harry froze and he gave Severus a questioning but hopeful look.

               “Really?”

               “You’ve spent the majority of the break here, what’s another week or so?”

               Harry’s eyes brightened and he smiled at Severus for the hundredth time that day, and Severus couldn’t help but admit that he enjoyed seeing Harry’s smile. It wasn’t his cheeky, aloof grin or his sassy, smart mouth look he often got from Harry. It was warm and welcoming, and Severus would not mind if Harry remained in his house if he could keep the spirits high in the cottage. Still, despite his increasing fondness for Harry, the warm emotions the child emitted still put Severus a bit out of his element, and he cleared his throat and closed his journal.

               “It is late, almost your bedtime,” Severus said. “Finish whatever you need to do and I’ll be in with your potion.”

               Harry closed his book and set it on the coffee table, jumping to his feet and heading for his room, but he paused next to Severus’s armchair. Before Severus could question the child, Harry leaned over and hugged Severus, catching him off guard, but the hug was brief as Harry pulled away before Severus could even move.

               Severus waited until Harry was in his bedroom before he gently touched where he could still feel the warmth Harry’s embrace had left on his shoulder. Had he really just agreed to keep Harry Potter at his cottage for the rest of the break? What on earth had become of him?