Harry spent the next twenty minutes -- while washing up for dinner -- doing just that. Severus could not help but smile as his son excited described something called a Baku, and how he had learned from the creature all about three new "temp'rit region" plants, as well as how he had learned to write three new letters -- Z, Q, and W -- and how he had beat Ron in a maths quiz.

"Congratulations, Harry," he told the boy, and they sat down for their meal. "I'm glad you had a good day today."

"Me, too, Father. And Mrs. Weasley said I'm real good at maths for my age."

Severus nodded, and served out a piece of grilled chicken and a portion of vegetables and rice to his son. "I believe I said the same thing to you, a month ago."

Harry smiled shyly, but he ducked his head and his shoulders hunched as if he expected a blow.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus said, "I'm glad you're good at maths, Harry. Don't ever think I want you to do less than your best at anything. All right?"

"Yes, Father." Harry waited patiently -- as he always did -- for Severus to serve himself and take his first bite, before he picked up his own fork, speared a largish piece of chicken, and tore a bite off with his teeth. Harry's table manners had improved drastically since that first meal at table they had shared, just after Harry had been formally adopted, but he was still far behind his peers in basic utensil use. He had yet to learn to use a knife properly, for instance, and tended to fall back on a spoon when faced with loose, small foods like rice or peas.

Patience, Severus reminded himself. "Would you like me to cut up your chicken for you, Harry?"

"Er . . ." Harry looked critically at Severus' plate, and then at his own, seeming to discern the difference between how their chicken appeared, at once. "Yes, please, Father."

Severus nodded, moved the plate a bit closer to himself, and proceeded to carve the chicken breast into bite sized pieces. He slid the plate back toward his son.

"Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome." He took a bite of his own dinner, and watched as Harry shoved a bite of rice onto his fork with his fingers before bringing the fork to his mouth. Almost half the mouthful fell into his lap on the trip up. Suppressing a sigh, Severus ignored the falling rice; that was a skill that would come with time and improved dexterity. But he could address the boy's grip. "Harry, here . . . let me show you how to better hold your fork."

Harry looked up at him with surprise, but handed over the fork willingly enough. Over the next few minutes, Severus positioned his fingers around the handle properly -- "Like holding a quill, see?" -- and demonstrated how it made scooping up things such as rice a bit easier.

"Feels weird," Harry said at one point.

"It will, until you get used to it. Like doing anything new, for the first time."

Harry grinned at him, peering up through his fringe. '''Cept using a broom."

"Cheeky," Severus said in a mild tone, but he had to agree. The boy had taken to broom flying like a salamander to fire. "Yes, your broom was one thing you never really had to learn to use, isn't it. That's a real gift, Harry. Most people have to learn to fly, just like learning to write or read."

Harry positively beamed at the praise, and Severus vowed to call attention to his son's accomplishments more often. "D'you think I could really be a Seeker, Father? Like on the Slytherin House team?"

Severus chuckled. "You think you'll be sorted into my House, do you?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Slytherin's snakes, and I really like snakes."

"I've noticed," Severus said dryly.

"And I can talk to 'em and everything. So, I should be in Slytherin, shouldn't I, Father?"

"I would be pleased if you did," Severus admitted. "But I will be proud of you no matter what House you're sorted into." Even as he said it, he knew it was true, though he had not really considered the possibility that Harry would not be in Slytherin. Of course he would be.

"But I can be Seeker, right, Father?"

"If you are in Slytherin, and you make the team, and if you're the best one for the job, I don't see why not."

Harry frowned, then scratched his nose with his thumb, his fork still tucked between his fingers. "That's a lotta 'ifs'."

"Yes," Severus said with a smirk. "It is."

"Don't you want me to be Seeker on your team?"

Severus set down his fork and peered at his son, lifting one eyebrow. "I would enjoy it very much. But Harry, that's years from now, and I don't think you should be worrying about something that might not happen, or that you might change your mind about, when it's so far off in the future."

"Oh." Harry's gaze dropped to his plate. "Sorry, Father."

With a frown of his own now, Severus wondered what he had said wrong to get that reaction. "But if you were to be a Seeker on the Slytherin team, like I said, I would be very happy. And if that is a goal you want badly enough, and you work hard for it, I have no doubt you could manage to accomplish it."

"Yeah?" Harry gazed at him hopefully.

"Yes." He shook his head fondly. "Now eat your dinner, Seeker."

Harry grinned and did as he was told.

---

After Harry was in bed, Severus met with Molly again, and this time there was only good progress to report. No running off, as she had told him earlier, no flashbacks, and no violent reactions to being touched. Molly admitted she had told her children -- especially the twins -- that they were not to grab Harry or even touch him unless he initiated the contact. No hugs or pats on the back unless Harry made the first move. It had made for a much smoother running day, and a far more emotionally stable Harry.

Once she was gone back to the Burrow, Severus readied himself for bed. He still had essays to correct for several of his classes, but he was too tired to deal with them right now. As he had been doing recently, he left his bedroom door open, so he could hear if Harry had a nightmare but didn't quite wake from it. He knew that he would be up and helping Harry with a nightmare at some point during the night; Harry had yet to have a night without one, except those nights he had been on a dreamless sleep potion. Every night, for an hour or two, depending on how long it took him wake Harry from the night terrors to begin with, he would soothe Harry and lull him back to sleep.

It was frankly, exhausting, and Severus knew he was suffering from sleep deprivation. But then, so was Harry, to a certain extent. And Severus could do nothing else. He cared about Harry far more than he did about sleep. Still, he was already behind in grading school work and meeting with all his new Slytherins. He was also grouchy while teaching his lessons.

Of course, this last consequence of sleeplessness seemed to work to his advantage. A grouchy, mean-looking professor was heeded far more quickly than an easy going, friendly professor, like Flitwick, for instance. And making sure the students heeded him immediately was, frankly, the most important part of teaching potions to a school full of dunderheads.

Severus eased himself into bed and Nox'd the lights. What felt like only a few minutes, but was -- when he noted the time -- actually almost three hours later, he was up with his son, soothing him out of another nightmare. He rocked the boy in his arms and whispered nonsense words in a low tone till Harry quietened enough to be guided back to sleep. Many nights, like this one, Harry had more than one nightmare from which he needed to be woken and soothed, and thus, by the time his morning alarm woke him, Severus felt he had gotten almost no sleep at all.

But Molly Weasley was there just after breakfast, and helped Harry through the day, while Severus groused his way through classes.

Dumbledore stopped him as he was retreating to his quarters for lunch, to remind him he was expected to make an appearance for at least two meals a day, every day, in the Great Hall. He had a House to look after, too, he should recall.

Of course he recalled. But he had a son to tend to, as well, or did the Headmaster not remember?

Dumbledore merely peered at him over the half moons of his spectacles, and Severus back tracked, apologizing curtly and saying he would do his best to be at dinner that night.

With a benevolent smile, Dumbledore let him go, and Severus fretted about taking Harry to dinner for the rest of the day.

He needn't have worried so. Harry was well behaved at dinner, and though he was quiet, and perhaps a little withdrawn, he did not seem actually frightened of the students or staff. He even smiled at Hagrid, and waved at Miss Parkinson at the Slytherin table, the young lady who had been with him when he talked to the adder on the hill.

Altogether, it could have been worse.

---

The next few days passed smoothly enough that Severus began to worry again, sure that something would go horribly wrong any moment now.

He and Harry had settled comfortably into a bit of a routine. Molly came with her four children each morning and stayed until dinner time. In the mornings, Harry usually had lessons in which he practiced writing, spelling and maths, and then had practical experience looking for and identifying plants -- as an introduction to Herbology or Potions -- or learning simple household charms, such as Lumos and Nox, taught to most wizarding children. After lunch, the children had plenty of opportunities for outdoor play, running about like rabid crups, or flying on children's style brooms, or playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones.

Meanwhile, Severus taught his classes, met with students from Slytherin or his Advanced Potions sections during his office hours just after lunch, and graded papers and sample potions for the ten to fifteen minutes he had between each of his classes.

In the evenings, after dinner in the Great Hall -- Severus tried to eat breakfast there, too, after making sure Harry was safely ensconced with Molly and her brood -- he and Harry would retreat to their quarters, where Severus would have Harry get ready for bed, read him a story or two, then tuck him in with their before-sleep-preparation of Occlumency. The boy was usually so exhausted by his day that he would fall asleep during story time, but was awake enough after being carried to his room, that he could follow the breathing exercises that were supposed to help with his nightmares.

Severus would then spend a few hours finishing his grading, preparing for the next day's lessons, and dealing with any issues that had come up with his Slytherins, before crashing into bed for the hour or two before the first of Harry's nightmares hit.

By the weekend, he was more than ready for a break, and when Molly invited him to bring Harry to the Burrow so the boy could get to know the place before he started spending the days there next week, he readily accepted. He and Molly agreed that he could stay for the morning, and then go back to Hogwarts in the afternoon. That way, Harry could get a feel for being there without his father, and Severus could finally get caught up on his grading at least.

Thus, Saturday morning found Severus ushering Harry through the Floo to the Burrow. Immediately upon exiting the large fireplace, both were surrounded by redheads clamoring for Harry, primarily, to "C'mon and play!"

After greeting them both warmly, Molly shooed the children outside with a, "Show Harry around, dears, and don't forget the pumpkin patch. There you go."

With only one backward glance at his father, Harry followed the Weasley boys and Ginny outdoors for the grand tour.

"They'll be just fine," Molly said, as if Severus needed her reassurance.

"I know," he said into the cup of tea she pressed into his hands as soon as he sat down.

"And Harry certainly knows the way back inside, if he needs to see you."

"Yes, of course," he agreed.

"This morning, I'll let him just get used to the place, play with the others; we've even got a Quidditch pitch out back. Small one, but my boys seems to enjoy it well enough. This afternoon, I have some chores need doing, and thought Harry could pitch in. Pumpkins need to be thinned, and--"

"No."

"Pardon?" Molly asked, taking a sip of her own tea.

"I don't want him doing chores."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Whyever not? I've always found chores to be a great way to build a sense of responsibility and it certainly helps keep this fam--"

Severus cut her off again. This was an issue he was not going to budge on, but he would try his best to make her understand. "Harry was treated worse than a House Elf by his relatives. They worked him like a slave, with food as his only reward, though starvation was the norm, and beatings as punishment if he did not get their impossible-to-finish lists done. I won't have him think he's gone back to that now."

"But Severus, you know we would never--"

"I know you wouldn't treat him like that, of course not, and neither would Arthur. But Harry doesn't know it. He doesn't know you well enough. All he would understand is that I had left him somewhere, and he's being told to work again, by people he has to obey or else." He kept his tone as steady as possible, but he could feel his anger rising. Could she not understand? His fingers clenched around the teacup. "I will not let him think for one moment that he has gone back to being someone's slave, not for a heartbeat, even if I know it isn't true."

Her blue eyes narrowed as she peered at him, trying to read something in his expression. Whatever it was she was looking for, she must have found it because she nodded shortly and said, "Very well. I would, however, like to revisit the possibility of chores at some later date, Severus. I still believe they are a good learning tool."

"Perhaps," he acquiesced, "once he no longer has nightmares about those horrible Muggles."

"Every night still?" Her moment of pique vanished and she was all concern again. When Severus nodded, she sighed. "That poor boy."

"Indeed." He smiled a little into his cup as he considered her words. Frankly, he thought Harry was one of the strongest willed people he knew, or had ever known. In spite of all he had gone through, he still had the ability to laugh and smile, to trust and to love. His son's resilience was both humbling and awe inspiring. Harry made every minute of lost sleep worth losing and every moment of worry worth dealing with, so long as he was allowed to spend time with his son, the greatest gift he had ever been given.