Settling down across from the boy with a pot of tea and two mismatched cups, I tried to put him at ease as quickly as possible.
“Harry, look at me.” I was graced with the small-animal-in-headlights glare again, but at least he looked. “You are not in trouble. I will not hit you, whip you, beat you, punish you, or send you away. You are not in trouble. Now tell me what I said.”
There. If that didn’t cover everything, we were really in for it.
……………………….
Letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I rushed to say, “I’m not in trouble, won’t be hurt, and I . . .” Did he really mean that part? Truly? “I get to stay with you?”
“That is correct. Now, I want to hear all of the details. What did the prat’s face look like when he flew into the air?”
Suddenly we were both giggling, which quickly progressed to whooping, screaming laughs complete with a snort here and there. I laughed until I coughed and sicked up, but godfather simply waved his wand with that cleaning spell and kept right on chuckling.
‘This must be what a family is supposed to feel like! How did I get so lucky?’
……………………………
After a decent tea, Harry and I both settled down to read. He was positively rapturous, and I found myself watching the wonderment on his face more than my selected material. Within moments he was completely lost in David Copperfield, concentrating, emotions flickering across his face at an alarming speed. I’d half a mind to find my copy and read it over.
I lost track of the time, and when I next looked up from my potions journal, he’d collapsed in the cushions, napping, while the sun slipped under our paltry garden. We’d have to do something about this shabby place straight away!
“Harry?”
No response.
“Harry?” I repeated a bit louder. This time he startled miserably, his book smacking the hardwood floor.
“Yes, sir! I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know I was falling asleep and –”
Holding up my hand and shushing him gently allowed the millstone to lift from his scant shoulders, and he let out a tottery breath.
“We’ve missed dinner, child. Are you hungry?”
He was still waking, and I could nearly hear his thought process as he searched for the correct answer.
“I - erm . . . y-yes, I am a little hungry, sir, er, godfather! Sorry, godfather!”
“Quite all right, Harry. Let us see what sounds appetizing, shall we?”
………………………………………………………………………….
What a scary way to wake up! I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep right there, in front of him. I’d never fallen asleep in front of anyone before – wasn’t safe.
‘But here it can be, can’t it?’ I’d have to think on that later.
After we’d eaten our fill at dinner, godfather suggested we fix up Spinner’s End.
“Let us start with your room, shall we?”
It was quite difficult to say what could be different. This was the very best room I’d ever had! ‘Why does he care what I want, what I think, what I like?’ Standing there, in the middle of the room, he looked at me, raising one crooked eyebrow, waiting.
What could I say?
“It’s - well, it’s perfect already, sir,” I said quietly. He did not like that answer very much, but he was ever so nice.
“It is dull gray, child. The walls, the coverlet, everything’s faded and old!” He paused, scrutinizing me. ‘Must be thinking what a bad boy I am!’ I thought he’d scold me, but instead he said, “What is your favorite color?”
I liked red, but I knew he didn’t, not after the tailor’s.
“Er - Yellow, sir?” Yellow was cheery; a happy color, like how I felt more and more now.
He made a sour, dissatisfied face, and I knew I’d picked wrong! Taking out his wand, I knew he’d strike me with it. I flinched back, hard, clenching my eyes shut and clamping down my teeth.
“Please, please,” I whispered.
At the same time, he was saying my name.
He didn’t sound angry.
I peeked out from between trembling fingers, and the room was just like sunshine! The walls and bed were a bright, joyful, daffodil-yellow, and extra glowing bulbs had been added to brighten the room.
“Brilliant!” He’d done a spell with his wand. ‘Of course he did a spell! I’m such a stupid little chit.’
Kneeling, he asked me a quiet question. “Am I ever going to hit you . . . again . . . Harry?”
A test! Best to say what he said, what I wanted so, so, much to believe.
“N – no, sir?”
“Correct. Let us move to the stairwell, shall we? It needs more light as well, don’t you think?”
………………………………………………………………………….
It was like pulling bloody molars, trying to get an opinion from the little one. After I startled him so badly with what was, for me, a mild grimace, I was careful to react, at worst, neutrally, to his responses. I really don’t know why I had neglected re-decorating so long. Force of habit, perhaps. Spinner’s End had still, in my mind, belonged to my complete berk of a father.
‘Not any longer!’
I enlarged the wretched lavatory and dining area, failing miserably at explaining to the boy the theory behind wizardspace. Every wall, floor, and furnishing was brightened, shined, and generally transfigured to look completely different.
Breathing was easier when all was done.
Ghosts no longer lurked in dank corners.
Standing in the child’s new doorway, I nearly smiled as I took in the untidy shock of dark hair spread on a canary-colored pillowcase. He squinted up at me, undoubtedly fearful without his glasses.
“Do not worry, Harry. I will not hurt you, child.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered in a pitiful voice.
This evening seemed to have made him uneasy. My thoughts drifted back to Poppy’s coddling. ‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt, and no one will ever know. Perhaps the little scamp will stop behaving like such a simpering idiot if I tuck him in . . .’
………………………………………………………………………….
He’d just told me he did not intend to hurt me, so why was he coming toward me? I made myself lie still – as still as possible while I shook under the covers.
He handed me my glasses; once I’d put them on I could see the puzzled expression on his face. He reached toward me. ‘Is he going to choke me?’ Relieved, I realized he was only pulling the blankets to just under my chin.
After patting me on the head once, twice, he cleared his throat and said, just a bit louder than necessary, “Sleep well then, Harry.”
The lights went out, and my held-in giggle turned into a great, magnificent smile! ‘I shall have nice dreams this night!’ I’d been worried I hadn’t a clock to listen for here at godfather’s house, but suddenly staying awake ‘til midnight, ‘til I turned nine, wasn’t very important.
…
Upon awakening, the smell of bangers and coffee wafted into the room – my room! At first I was still happy, laying in the deep comfort of my brand new covers. Then I sat straight up!
‘He’s cooking! I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!’ Even though I made up the bed and dressed as quick as I could, still seemed like everything took forever! Out of breath as I was, it wasn’t possible to even apologize straight away after arriving in the new dining room.
“Harry. I’m pleased you’re up. I was about to come upstairs.”
Thank goodness I’d awakened! It would have been a punishment for sure if he’d had to come fetch me, wouldn’t it? ‘Everything’s so confusing!’
“What can I do, sir?” Surely he’d have chores for me, since he’d cooked.
“You may take your seat at the table, place your napkin in your lap, and eat breakfast.” His clipped tone left no room to say anything further.
Once we’d finished, I noted I’d forgotten about magic again! He sent the dishes to dance with the forks in the bubbly sink. At least, that’s what I fancied they were doing; dancing was much more interesting than scrubbing!
………………………………………………………………………….
It took me a moment to get the boy’s attention. Mouth hanging open, staring distractedly, it seemed as if he was waiting for the china to attack the silver. I bit back a comment about catching flies.
“Harry? Harry?” Finally, tapping the table in front of him gained attention, though, as everything seemed to, it startled him - but just a bit.
“Oh! Yes, sir? Sorry, sir!”
“No need, child,” I sighed. “Do you know what today is?”
His eyes lit up briefly, then he sniffed a bit and cast sparkling green irises to the slick marble floor.
………………………………………………………………………….
He couldn’t be thinking the same as me. How would he know 31st July was my birthday? He probably didn’t even realize today was the last day of the month; we had no calendar or schedule in the cottage.
“Wednesday, sir?” It was Wednesday, I wasn’t lying.
“Yes, and . . .” Both crooked eyebrows lifted this time.
“The 31st of July, sir?”
“Godfather, Harry.”
“Sorry, godfather!”
He waited, I think for me to say something, then rolled his eyes.
“Your birthday, Harry. It’s your birthday,” he growled.
“Yes, sir.” Birthdays! Whenever the Dursleys remembered, it made for a much worse day. ‘It will be different with my Snape, won’t it?’
………………………………………………………………………….
The discussion was not beginning the way I’d hoped, but who knew what he was thinking?
“I have tentative plans for a small party, but if you’d rather cancel, we can discuss it after I’ve gone over the details.”
Eyes could not have become bigger if one had seen a muggle ghost!
Finally, he managed to stutter, “P – party?”
Shaking my head – trying not to think of the reason behind his rather adorable expression of surprise – I answered, “Yes, Harry, a birthday party, because today is your birthday.”
“A birthday party – for – for me? Sir?”
………………………………………………………………………….
My Snape let out a long sigh before a slow grin captured his lips.
“Yes, you silly child, a birthday party for you. Now, the tentative plans are for tea with Poppy and Gray. They shall join us at four, we shall eat and have the party. Do you think you would like that?” ‘Do not remark on catching flies, Severus!’
“Yes, sir! Yes, godfather, I would like that very much!”
………………………………………………………………………….
The floor was threatening to vibrate, so much the little one was bouncing in a new, thankfully sturdy, dining chair.
“Is there anyone else you would like to invite?” I truly hoped he would not ask for any of the Smiths next door; I would be loathe to invite Chloe or William. Young Sarah might be passable, but how could I invite the daughter and not the mother? Thankfully, it was not an issue.
“No, godfather, there is no one else,” he chirped contentedly.
I wished there were other children his age to invite; I felt inadequate I could not help the child with social matters. However, taking in his excitement, I knew presently he’d not given a lack of playmates a single thought. That assuaged my unforeseen guilt, for now.