Severus was waiting for them in the sitting room, and when the door to his quarters opened - by Molly; he had reset the Wards to allow her entry while she was tutoring Harry - he stood immediately so he was visible, not wanting a repeat of Harry's upset at lunch when he couldn't find his father. As at lunch, however, Harry flung himself at Severus and hugged his legs tightly. Severus patted his son's soft, dark hair then gently cupped the back of his head. He was glad to see the boy, too, and anxious to hear how his day had gone. Not that he would say that in front of Molly Weasley or her brood, of course.

Speaking of which . . . "This is not a playground!" he barked at the Weasley children, who were climbing on his furniture and caterwauling like monkeys.

Still clutching his legs, Harry shivered at his raised voice, and he winced inwardly. He should never forget the abuse his son had suffered through and the effect shouting could have on him. And yet, he did, constantly, much to his regret. Lowering his voice considerably, he soothed, "It's all right, Harry. I'm not angry with you."

The little boy's head nodded, but he shifted slightly, so that his head was now burrowed within Severus' robes, as if he were hiding. Severus was instantly concerned. Even as Molly was organizing her brood and getting them ready to Floo back home, he caught her eye.

"What happened?" he mouthed, not wanting Harry to be further upset by thinking he had done something wrong.

"Later," she mouthed back. Her face looked pinched with worry, and when she glanced at Harry, still hiding, she shook her head slightly. Aloud, she said, "After I've fed this lot, and gotten them settled, I'll Floocall you, all right? We can discuss plans for tomorrow." Back to mouthing, she continued, "Among other things."

Severus nodded, hugging his son against him, not sure why exactly he felt the need to reassure the boy, but he was acting so oddly. Still, the boy needed to use his manners, too, so he patted Harry's head once more and murmured, "Harry, the Weasleys are leaving. What do you say?"

With minimal movement, his son peeked at the matronly woman and his voice was soft as he said, "Thank you for coming, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled cheerfully. "You're welcome, dear heart. Perhaps we will see you tomorrow."

Harry bit his lip, and Severus ached to pull it out from his teeth, but resisted. Then the boy's gaze flicked to the children, who had calmed down, mostly, and were milling about near the fireplace. "Bye, Ron'n Ginny. And Fred and George."

"See ya, Harry," Ron said, even as Ginny turned bright red and ducked her head.

"You're good at-"

"Snitch catching, Harry," the twins said in that odd way they had of finishing each other's sentences.

"Could be a-"

"Seeker someday!"

"All right," Molly said. "Go on with you. Fred and George first."

With a bit more encouragement, Molly got her boys through the Floo, and followed them with Ginny beside her, after wishing both Severus and Harry a good evening.

Once they were gone, Severus helped Harry disentangle himself from Severus' robes and legs, and they made their way to the bathroom to wash up. Harry's hands and face were a bit grubby with dirt and . . . dog fur? Severus had thought they were going to work indoors this afternoon, on reading and writing lessons. Perhaps something had changed. Harry was very quiet while they washed up, and when they went to their dining table, shrunk now from the expanded version they had used at lunchtime to accommodate all the extra people, the boy clung to his hand, seemingly reluctant to be parted even for that short a time.

Trying to get a handle on what had happened, before talking to Molly, Severus said, "Did you play outside this afternoon?"

"Yes, Father," Harry said as he scooted up onto his seat, only then releasing Severus' hand. But he looked away while answering, and Severus didn't know why.

Rather than fret about why, he asked, "Did something happen while you were playing?" Grasping at possibilities, he ventured, "Did George try and grab you again?"

A look of relief passed over Harry's face, and Severus tried to interpret the reason, even as Harry said, "No, Father." Then the boy folded his hands in his lap and gazed down at them.

Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line. He would get to the bottom of this one way or another, but he did not wish to upset Harry any more than necessary. Instead he tapped his wand on the table so dinner would appear, and as the dishes popped into view, he said, "What's this about catching a Snitch?"

As expected, Harry's face lit up and he looked at Severus for the first time that evening. "We played tag wif ‘em," he said. "I caught the most, even though I'm littlest."

"Ginevra is younger than you," Severus pointed out.

Harry scowled. "But she's still bigger. Taller, I mean."

Having hit a sore spot, apparently, Severus responded in a chiding manner. "Best eat lots of dinner, then, so you catch up." He reached toward the platter of baked filets of fish and served Harry a generous portion, then did the same with the bowl of asparagus spears and the potatoes, which had been broiled with rosemary and tarragon. "A growing boy needs plenty of sustenance. Especially if he's to be," he suppressed his own scowl, not wanting to discourage his son from something he found enjoyable, "a world famous Seeker."

Glancing at his plateful of food, Harry smiled shyly. "Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome," Severus replied. "Now, eat up."

The rest of dinner passed amicably, with Harry describing in more detail the game he had played with the other children involving Snitches, but little else about the afternoon except that he had met with Hagrid and asked about food for Treacle Tart. Severus did not press for more, figuring Harry would tell him when he was ready, or he would get the story from Molly.

Not to mention, while he listened to Harry, he was also considering what to do about the Filch problem. Severus had finished the potion that would prevent the nasty Squib from harming Harry, and would in fact bind him to the boy for a period of no less than six months. He would have administered the damned thing today, except that Albus was balking. It was unfair, the Headmaster said, for Filch to be punished so severely - beyond the removal of his arms for a month, which Albus thought had been excessive and Severus, too light of a punishment - for what had essentially been a misunderstanding.

Severus had nearly turned in his resignation right then. He had warned Albus, after all, that he would not put up with the caretaker's continued presence in the castle without there being some kind of hold on his baser behaviors. Harry had been traumatized quite enough, thank you.

But Albus promised - promised! - that he would personally monitor Filch's whereabouts and would speak to the man, again, about the fact that Harry was to be considered off limits for any interactions.

"I don't want him even looking at my son!" Severus had told him. "At all. If he is so much as in the same room as Harry, I want him removed!"

"You're over reacting, my-"

"We've been through this, Albus. You did not see that man at the Welcoming Feast. He's planning something, or if he isn't, he will take any opportunity to get back at Harry. And I. Won't. Stand. For it."

Albus had stared at him for a long time, but Severus would not back down. "I understand," he said finally, and Severus hoped he truly did.

Thus, in addition to whatever monitoring spells Albus had on the Squib, after his classes were done for the day today, Severus had added his own. They would alert him in case Filch got within a hundred feet of Harry in any direction - allowing for walls and floors, of course.

He hoped it would be enough. If not, he still had the potion.

"Father?" Harry asked as they finished up dinner. Severus was glad to see he had eaten most of what was on his plate.

"Yes?"

"Can we read a story tonight?"

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "You mean, like we do every night?"

Abashed, Harry ducked his head, but nodded all the same.

"Very well," he said as if it were a hardship, though Harry's head came up in time to see the glint of humor in his eyes. "Go on and take a shower now, and get your pajamas on, brush your teeth. Then we'll read together for a bit."

Harry's smile was wide, and Severus was hard put not to grin back at him like some . . . some Weasley. Instead, he inclined his head. "Go on, now."

The boy leapt from his seat and tore down the hallway, only slowing when Severus called, "No running indoors!"

"Yes, Father," came the reply.

Severus banished the dinner dishes back to the kitchens for the House Elves to deal with. Then he moved to his desk and tweaked a few lesson plans while he waited for Harry to finish his nightly ablutions. When the boy returned, freshly washed and smelling of soap, Severus let him climb into his lap while they settled in one of the armchairs. Predictably, the white kneazle followed, settling herself on Harry's lap.

Severus Accio'd the Wizard Fairytale book they had been working their way through. It had many large-type words that were hopefully familiar enough to the boy that he would recognize them, or begin to, at least, over the course of their stories. But it also had new words, longer words that Severus hoped the boy would learn, too. He had been rather taken aback when he had learned his son could barely recognize his own name when it was written, wondering how in the world the teachers of his Muggle school could have neglected his education so completely. But then, Harry was so insecure and unassuming, he would never have made a fuss at school, Severus knew, nor asserted that he was not stupid when everyone assumed he was. And that damned aunt and uncle of his obviously hadn't cared if Harry never learned a thing, so long as their own whale of a son wasn't inconvenienced or shown to be lacking.

Severus hated them all.

But, for Harry's sake, he banished those thoughts from his mind as they started a new story about a swan, once a maiden, who was turned into a harp by a Wizard.

When Harry started drooping at the end of the story, Severus carted him off to bed, then sat by his bedside watching him sleep. Treacle had curled up next to Harry's face, so that each of his breaths ruffled through the pale fur of her back legs, like a soft breeze. The boy himself had rolled into a ball, as he almost always did while sleeping, protecting his stomach, and his face, like any good prey beast. Severus sighed, his fingers itching to smooth the hair off of Harry's forehead, so he succumbed, carding through the thick, untidy locks, so like his own when he was a child.

It might take a lifetime to undo the fearful instincts the Dursleys had instilled in his son, but by Merlin, he would undo them.

He only left Harry's room once he heard the chime for a call coming through the Floo. Likely Molly, but it could be the Headmaster, meddling or being otherwise annoying.

To his relief, it was Molly.

"May I come through?" she asked when he acknowledged her presence in his fireplace.

Severus inclined his head, and she was in his sitting room moments later. He offered her tea and biscuits, she accepted, and a few minutes later, his own cup sat on the nearby table while he waited as patiently as he could for her to speak.

She took a long draught of her tea, and watched him over the brim of the tiny cup. Finally she said, "How much do you know about how . . . those Muggles treated Harry? Specifically, I mean."

Severus' eyes narrowed, but his tone was nothing if not polite when he answered. "A fair bit."

Molly's eyes widened with surprise. "Harry's spoken to you then?"

"About the Dursleys?"

"Yes. Or about today's situation, particularly."

Severus sat forward. "What happened?"

With a frown, now, Molly said, "So, he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He considered hexing her on the spot, but forbore to do so, at least until after she answered his bloody question!

Instead of answering, though, she asked something more. "How do you know about what happened to him, if he hasn't spoken to you about it?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter!"

"But it does, Severus," she said, in a tone that implied she was speaking to a small, dull child. "Harry needs to talk about these things, and if you aren't encouraging him to do so, he will keep all those feelings bottled inside, and we'll see far more episodes like today."

Severus found that he was gripping his wand through the pocket in his robes, and it took a supreme act of will to let it go. And another to unclench his teeth. His voice was dangerous when he growled, "Tell me what happened to Harry today. Now."

Molly looked startled, as if she couldn't imagine Severus taking umbrage with her obtuse behavior. But then she sighed. "He panicked, when I made a move to help him with his writing. I tried to take his hand in mine, to show him the proper way to hold a quill, when he turned pale as a ghost, ducked under the table and fled the castle."

Severus gaped at her for several moments before he found his voice again. "Obviously you found him."

"He had gone to Hagrid's. He was still pale and shaky when I got there, but between Hagrid and myself, we got him to tell us what was wrong. Now, I would like to know how much you know about how the Muggles treated him."

"Why?"

"Because when I asked if he had told you, he said he wasn't supposed to speak of what happened to him there. I imagine it was one of their rules."

Taken aback, Severus nodded slightly. "He's said as much before. But . . ." He waved a hand helplessly. "He doesn't want to talk about them. I have to drag him through every mention of them, every conversation in which their specter is raised."

"He may not want to," Molly said quietly. "But he must, nonetheless. Or he will never truly recover."

Since Albus had said much the same thing, Severus was more convinced than he would have been otherwise. But he did not want to upset the boy, and he knew speaking of his relatives upset him.

"You used Legilimency, didn't you?" Molly asked, into the quiet that followed.

He stared.

"On Harry, or on the Muggles?"

Feeling like a fish out of water, suddenly, he heard himself say, "Both."

Her frown returned, multiplied. "It's a dangerous habit to get into, Severus. A great uncle of mine was a Legilimens, and relied on it so heavily he could not carry on normal conversation for his last score of years. Not only because he wasn't used to it, but because no one trusted him near them anymore." She shook her head. "And Harry has enough issues with trust, don't you think?"

Nodding again, he looked away. He didn't bother to justify himself with his reasoning at the time; he'd been so overcome, himself, when Harry was panicking about dinner of all things, that he hadn't really let himself think of alternatives. But he wasn't sorry about doing it to the Muggles.

"Today," Molly continued, when it was obvious Severus was not going to respond further, "Harry had a recollection - I think they call it a flashback, amongst Mind Healers - of a time when his aunt grabbed his hand and forced it down on a hot stove as punishment for dropping some forks. So, when I reached for his hand, he . . . flashed on that memory, and thought I was his aunt, trying to punish him again."

Unable to do anything but stare at Molly, Severus fought the rise of bile into his mouth. Oh, Harry . . .

"After he spoke to Hagrid and me about the memory, he seemed a bit better off, and was able to play with the other children for a while as if nothing was wrong. But," Molly said, her voice very soft, as if she did not want to say what she was about to, and yet had to nonetheless, "But Harry is a very troubled boy. I cannot imagine what other horrifying things they did to him, even just knowing the one. But I can tell you he will have more episodes like this. I think talking about what happened, however, before memories crop up like this, will help mitigate them somewhat."

Severus shook his head. "You think it will help. Maybe? I know it will upset him!"

Molly drew a deep breath. "I know he should not have to suffer these memories alone! And that's what it means, when he thinks you don't want him to talk about it. It does him no good at all for you to know, but for him not to have unburdened himself. All that does is assuage your curiosity. If you want to be a good father to him, you will need to think of Harry's good in the long term, not your discomfort in the short."

Rage, sudden and overwhelming, swept through him, and he leapt from his seat. "You go too far!" he shouted.

Molly merely shook her head again, and kept her voice as low as it had been all through their conversation. "And you do not go far enough. I know you care for him a great deal, Severus, and do not want to see him hurting. No parent wants that for their child. But you have a special case here, and Harry needs to know that no matter what he says about those horrible people, or what he remembers, that you will still love him."

"Of course I will," Severus insisted, his voice rough-edged. He collapsed again into his chair, wondering what he thought he was doing, trying to be this boy's father. He obviously was not qualified in the least.

"I know that. But Harry doesn't. Not yet."

Severus put his face in his hands. "I'm failing him," he whispered.

"You aren't. You just need to get him to open up more. Talk to you, tell you when he's hurting, or when he's upset and why. But I can almost guarantee that he won't do so without prompting. Right now, he doesn't think he's worth anyone's regard." She offered him a small smile. "Though he desperately seeks to please you, and from the way he latched on to you each time we returned today, he obviously trusts you more than anyone else and finds comfort from being near you."

"Indeed." The word ‘limpet' came to mind.

"Perhaps . . ."

Severus lifted his head when Molly trailed off. "What?"

"Perhaps he would benefit from the expertise of a Mind Healer."

"No, absolutely not."

"But if you aren't willing--"

"I am! I will! Harry . . . he can't go to a Mind Healer. For one thing, the Ministry doesn't even know he's not with the Dursleys. It's a tricky situation, but I won't put his status, and thus his safety, in jeopardy."

Molly gazed at him a long time, her expression pensive, and concerned. Finally, she nodded. "If you think you can be what he needs . . ."

"I will," he said again, and he never meant anything more. "You have my word."

Her smile was kind. "I know, Severus. And I will do all I can for him, as well."

Severus nodded slowly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Will you be back tomorrow?"

Her smile widened. "Of course. My boys had a lovely time, they said, and Ginny was very pleased to make Harry's acquaintance."

Recalling how the girl had blushed every time she looked at his son, Severus sneered. "I'm sure."

Molly merely raised her own eyebrows in response, and took another sip of tea.