Once tea was over, it was delicious, Theo asked if he might show Harry about the grounds. Since Severus was busy with attending to some paperwork he had brought home right then, he agreed. The two boys raced outside while their mothers went into the kitchen and talked while Lucy washed up the tea things and started to prepare a few things for supper. Lily offered to help and Lucy handed her a carving board and a sharp knife and asked Lily to chop up some onions and cucumbers for a salad.

While the two women got to know each other, their sons were hurrying pell mell across the backyard, Harry following Theo, who despite his infirmity could move at a good pace. "Over here's the gardens." Theo said, pointing to two large tracts of tilled earth, one was surrounded by a low white picket fence, and the other was bordered by a stone wall with hanging baskets. The garden with the picket fence held many kinds of different magical herbs and fungi, and also a small greenhouse. It had a gate with a charmed latch. "I can't open it, only Severus can. The only time I'm allowed in here is if I'm helping him make a potion, then he unlocks the gate so I can fetch ingredients for him."

"He teaches you how to brew potions? But I thought you couldn't do magic?"

"I can't use a wand or ride a broom, but I can learn about magical herbs and fungi and brew potions." Theo explained. "Only I can't do the real complicated potions, but that's all right. Most Squibs can't even do that much. What can you do with your magic, Harry? Besides call storms, I mean?"

Harry shrugged. "Not much yet. I wasn't ever taught about magic. I grew up with my Muggle aunt and uncle 'cause my mum was in a coma and they wanted to pretend magic never existed." Then he switched the subject because he didn't feel like talking about the Dursleys, he wanted to forget they had ever existed. "Is it hard to brew a potion?"

"Eh, it depends. Some are easy, and some are well nigh impossible. But Severus is brilliant with them, he can brew anything!" Theo stated, his eyes shining with hero-worship.

"Have you always lived here?"

"Yes. I grew up in this house. Mum brought me here when I was still learning to walk and I've never known anywhere else. She always says I'm lucky to be able to live in a nice house like this, and that Severus is a first rate tutor. Mum taught me how to read and write with a quill, but Severus taught me advanced mathematics and Latin and they both taught me history, both magical and Muggle. I love math, it's my best subject."

"I like to read." Harry offered shyly. Then he asked quietly, "Uh, Theo, where's your dad?"

"He died before I was born. I never knew him. He was a Muggleborn, and Mum's parents disowned her for marrying him in secret. He was mugged and killed in Diagon Alley while shopping one day. Mum was pregnant with me, and the shock of finding out my dad was dead made her trip and fall down the stairs of her flat and go into labor early. That's where she met Severus, he was at St. Mungos when she was brought in."

"Was that when you came to live with him?"

"No, that was later. First Mum went back to live with her parents, but . . .once my grandparents found out that I was a Squib and had a lame foot, they told her to leave. Actually, they wanted her to give me up for adoption and marry a pureblood, but Mum refused. She said either they loved her and me for what we were or else we'd leave. So we did, and Mum was running an ad in the Prophet, and Severus hired her and that's how we came to Heatherton."

"You seem to like Severus."

"He's capital, Harry! He's like what I think my dad would have been if he'd lived. Severus doesn't care that I limp and can't do hardly any magic. He's always been there for me and Mum. I kind of think of him like my dad." Theo admitted with a shy smile. "Come, take a look at all the flowers and the orchard in here."

He led Harry into the walled garden. There were all sorts of flowers there, arranged in geometric concentric circles. There were roses, and hyacinths, lilies and petunias, carnations and tulips. Marigolds grew in the baskets hanging over the wall. There were also several wild strawberry bushes. The fruit trees were heavy with fruit. There were apple trees, peach trees, two kinds of pear trees, plum trees, cherry trees, and a fig tree.

"Mum makes the best pies from the fruit," Theo said, licking his lips. "You'll see."

The last garden was bordered by a thick hedge and contained several kinds of herbs and vegetables, such as potatoes, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, onions, and peas and squash. Theo walked inside and picked a pea pod and crunched it. "Mmm. These are almost ready to be picked. Try one?"

Harry took one and ate it, savoring the fresh taste. He hardly ever got to eat fresh vegetables, Petunia had rarely made salads because Vernon and Dudley had hated them. "These are really good."

"Uh huh. Most things Severus plants are good. I really like sugar snap peas." Theo crunched another one.

Theo showed him a large shed which contained various gardening implements and fertilizer plus a wheelbarrow. Beyond that was a large freshwater pond, which had a huge tree overhanging it. Tied to the tree was a long rope swing, with a big tire on the end of it. "This is where I go swimming when it's really muggy. Mum doesn't really like it, she's always been afraid of water, but Severus taught me to swim and said I can come here whenever I want. Jumping off the swing is the best. Wanna try it sometime?"

Harry slowly nodded. He didn't want to tell Theo that he could barely tread water, Petunia had never let him take swimming lessons like Dudley, so he'd learned a bit by watching the instructor teach his cousin. "Maybe after I get some trunks."

"All right. Do you like to go exploring? We can take some lunch out on the moor one day, long as we tell Severus where we're going. I'm not allowed to go more'n six miles away."

"Why? Is it dangerous out there? Are there wild animals around or something?"

"Sometimes there are packs of wild dogs," Theo's voice dropped to a whisper. "Mean nasty brutes that could take your arm off in one bite. And some say . . . some say that the Grim still roams these hills. Know what the Grim is?" Harry shook his head. Theo continued. "The Grim is a massive black dog, but not an ordinary mutt. They say he's the devil's mascot, and was spat up from hell to haunt the moors. If you see the Grim, it means your death, one way or another. He has burning red eyes and a bloody tongue and he loves to hunt the innocent . . . especially children who have wandered too far from home."

Harry felt a shiver go down his backbone. "You're just making that up. There's no such thing as a Grim. It's a ghost story, right?"

"You don't believe me? You think ghosts don't exist and you're a wizard?"

"What does being a wizard have to do with ghosts? Ghosts are just made up to scare little kids."

"Nuh-uh. Ghosts are real, Potter. Very real." Theo said. "Just ask any of the villagers. They've all seen Poor Maggie, she's a ghost that haunts the outskirts of the village, a'wailin' and a'weepin' for her poor dead love, and riding her horse back and forth, tryin' t'find his body. Y'see, he were murdered and the ones who done it dumped his body in a sinkhole and Maggie waited and waited for him outside her house, but he never showed. She died of grief and now she haunts the moor, searchin' for her love's body, which was buried where no man shall ever find it. Not till the end of all things!"

"Oh, come on, Theo! You're putting me on!"

"I'm not, and if you don't believe me, just ask Severus." Theo insisted. "He went to Hogwarts, and the castle has four ghosts and a poltergeist living in it. Your mum and mine know it too."

"They do?"

"Aye, just ask them. They'll tell you I'm not lying."

"All right, maybe I will. Have you ever seen a ghost?"

"No. And I hope I never do." Theo shuddered. "Mum says there are good and bad ones, but the ones around here are all bad, or at least not very nice. Severus says that ghosts are spirits who died with unfinished business on their souls and that's why they're still here. 'Cause they can't rest 'till they finish their task."

Harry still looked doubtful.

Theo sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you that there's a golden goose hereabouts that lays golden eggs? People have been hunting for it for years. But only I've ever seen it. It landed near the pond a few months ago, when I happened to be out watering the garden, and I saw it. But before I could do anything, it flew off. I've been hoping to see it again ever since. That's why I have the big net over there." He indicated a large net sitting beside the big tree with the swing. "But maybe now you're here, we could try and catch her ourselves. Then we'd be rich and famous. And nobody would ever call me a poor cripple again. Or a pathetic Squib."

"All right. That sounds like fun," Harry agreed, thinking that Theo was as much an outcast in the wizarding world as he had been in the Muggle one. "Do you have to do chores around here?"

"Some. Severus says a little work never hurt anybody. But it never takes too long. I usually have to pick up my room, weed the flower garden, and water the magical herbs. Sometimes I help Mum in the kitchen or set the table."

"Oh. What happens if you don't do them?"

"Y'mean, like I forgot? Then Severus and Mum scold me and if I'm a real lackwit, Severus will give me extra chores on the weekend or have me write lines."

"That's all? He doesn't . . .lock you up?"

"Lock me up? Like in my room?" Theo was puzzled. "No. The worst he's ever done to me is to give me a smack on the bum for answering back my mum and being a brat. And once he made me write a three foot essay on proper manners and behavior to my elders."

"Oh." That didn't sound bad at all. Not compared to what Vernon had done to him. "How about lessons? Are they hard?"

"Depends. Some are and some aren't. But Severus will always explain things again if I need him to, and so will Mum. He's not really as stern as he seems. If you make a mistake, you can always do it over."

Harry hoped so. Though he wondered how you could uncall a storm?

While the boys were outside getting acquainted, Lily and Lucy had managed to chop everything Lucy needed for supper. There was a fresh salad of cucumbers and onions with olive oil and vinegar dressing, plus a large chicken pot pie, and buttered mashed turnips.

While she was mashing the turnips, Lily asked Lucy how she had come to work at Heatherton Cottage.

"Eh, now that's a long tale, but we have naught but time till supper, so . . ." Lucy began, shifting into a broad Yorkshire dialect. She had picked up the Yorkshire from being among the village women, shopping and exchanging various recipes and so forth, and found that adopting it made her seem less of an outsider and more like one who belonged on the moor. Plus, she knew her proper pureblood parents would have been mortified to hear their daughter speak like a low class servant. And it was a sort of personal rebellion to do the opposite of what Doreen and Edgar Nott had insisted she do growing up.

"Tha should know that I was the youngest in my family, the only girl, an' I was expected to marry well. I had a cradle betrothal to young Even Rosier, an' t'was expected we'd be married as soon as I finished school. But I'd never liked Rosier, he was creepy and wicked and I'd made up my mind I'd rather die than marry him by the time school was over. So I decided to find someone else, a man of my choosing. Tha must understand, such was not done in my family. We were purebloods and supposed to marry our own kind. Doin' anything else was nigh unthinkable." A smile quirked up Lucy's mouth. "But I was a Ravenclaw, and what could be thought of could be done, aye? So I began volunteering at my local library an' it was there I met my Finn. Finn O'Mara, as bonny a lad as ever tha saw, and Muggleborn besides. Forbidden fruit indeed! But I cared naught. He was clever and well read and treated me gently, never pawed nor groped me like that dolt Rosier. In six months I was in love with him, an' my folks were about ready to tie me up an' march me t'the altar to marry Rosier. I couldna refuse them much longer, so I made as if I were sick, then eloped to Gretna Green with Finn."

Lucy told about how her parents had cut her off without a penny, but she and Finn had managed to rent a flat near Diagon Alley and they were happy for a short time together. Until tragedy struck in the form of some robbers, who mugged and beat Fin to death while he was shopping. "To this day I suspect my brother had a hand in it," she said darkly. "For Finn had nothing on him that would have made robbers come for him, tha see? I was so horror struck that I went into labor before my time. Poor Theo was born early as well as with a twisted foot. But I loved him, he was the spit of Finn, and I vowed to give him a good home. But I was without a Knut to my name after a month and I had to return to my parents' house, else Theo would have starved. I never wished to, but I had no choice."

She grimaced as she told of how her father and mother had sneered at their grandchild, first for being a half-blood and then for being a cripple. "See what happens when you marry for love, girl? You throw defective offspring," her father had told her.

"An' once they found out he was a Squib . . . they wanted me to get rid of him rather than have him stay and taint our House."

"That's awful! What did you do?"

"Told 'em t'stick it where the sun don't shine and left. I said either they loved me an' my son for who we were or not. I put an ad in The Prophet for work, I was advertizing for a companion or a tutor to a young girl. I ended up getting owled by Severus, who needed someone reliable to keep house for him here. He said he didn't want to bind any house elf and he paid a fair wage. I asked if I could take Theo and he agreed and before you can say Jack Sprat we were here and here we've stayed. Severus has been more than kind t'us. Treats me like an equal and my son like his own nevvie or son, and not like a freak or Squib. Tha'll never catch me saying nobbut bad about Master Severus an' anyone else who does will answer to me!"

Lily blinked at the fierce protective light in Lucy's eyes. "You really mean that."

"As much as I ever have anything in my life." Lucy replied. Then she added, "And before tha jumps to the wrong conclusion, I'm employee only not lover. Finn was my only and now he's gone, I'll never love another."

Lily felt herself blush, had she been that transparent?

"That's none of my business," she asserted, still coloring.

Lucy shrugged. "Eh, just thought I'd set the record straight. 'Tisn't like people haven't wondered about us afore. All of us are here because Severus allows us to be, and it's good he's a gentleman about it, otherwise the gossip would be much worse n' it is. The villagers know it too. Now tha has heard my tale. Turnabout's fair play, Lily."

Lily set the turnips aside, as she was finished with them and said quietly, "First, I need to know what's been said about me and James and Harry since that night. Severus told me that Harry is thought of as The-Boy-Who-Lived and famous for his survival of the Killing Curse. Several witches and wizards at the hospital considered me famous as well, and James too, for trying to defend his family against V-Voldemort." She made herself say the name.

"That's right. They do. Do you not agree with them?"

"No. Not really. We, James and I, did no more and no less than any other wizarding parent did when they tried to protect their family from him and his followers. The one difference is that Harry and I lived while the others perished. I've read what they wrote about us in the papers, and it's all sensationalism. I didn't 'duel' Voldemort and neither did my husband. There wasn't time for that, and neither of us was strong enough to stand and match spells with him. Voldemort wasn't the kind to salute you and then attack at ten paces, all right and proper. He was a stone cold killer. He cast first and asked questions afterwards to your corpse. James never stood a chance. Voldemort was like Death, you saw him and you died. It took him a few minutes to kill my husband, even though he was good at Defense. It took him barely that to try and kill me. I believe, and so does Severus, that the only reason I survived as well as Harry was because Harry's stormcaller talent acted to protect me, and siphoned off some of the Killing Curse's power. That's why I lived, because of my son, and because Voldemort was unprepared to face a talent of that magnitude in a child barely past his first birthday. He thought Harry's talent was dormant and he could steal away my son and make him into his puppet. He was arrogant and overconfident. He paid for it though. Those who live by the wand die by the wand."

"That he did."

"And that is why I will never consider Harry's talent a curse. Because when it mattered, it saved his life. It may even have done so twice. But it could also destroy him," Lily admitted softly. "It's a double-edged sword, Lucy. I've always known that. From the moment I saw the mark on him, I knew. I also knew that I would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Most people, my husband included, regard that talent as a death sentence. We had many arguments over it." She sighed. "But James and I never saw eye to eye on a lot of things. We were very different people."

Lucy began chopping up celery, eyeing the other woman closely. "Something tells me it was not all roses and song, thy marriage. Not the way the papers said it was, a love match made in heaven."

Lily snorted. "There is no such thing, Lucy. No marriage is perfect. Oh, when you're young you dream about it, you fantasize about love and how it makes everything wonderful, but the reality is not like that. When James and I married, it was barely after six months of an engagement. But we were young and assumed passion would last forever and overcome all odds. There was a war and James was anxious to put a ring on my finger just in case he fell in the line of duty. I thought I knew him, and he understood me. But we didn't know anything. As I said, we were very different people. I was always a bookworm, I preferred books to going out with friends, preferred my charms research to going to parties and I detested Quidditch and staying out all night with Sirius and Peter or whoever James had over. I liked to take long walks and contemplate nature, grub about in my garden, brew potions. But I wasn't a socialite."

"And he was the opposite?"

"Yes. He loved being in crowds, the more the merrier. He loved publicity and I hated it. He lived for Quidditch, it was his passion, and I wished to pretend it never existed. He thought I was a bit dull for preferring more intelellectual pursuits and walking about Covent Gardens or attending lectures on Herbology was the height of boring. 'A plant's a plant, Lily,' he used to say to me. He was never the scholar I was, he preferred sports. Try and get him to read a book about anything else, like potions, and his eyes glazed over. He loved spending time with his friends, most of which I didn't care for, and didn't like having in my home. But I put up with it, because I didn't want him to be unhappy. I went to the matches and after parties with him, tried to pretend I loved it, but I was miserable.

"Three months into the marriage I discovered we had as much in common as a cat and a dog. We couldn't even agree on the sex of a baby. He wanted an heir, a boy to raise to be the next Quidditch Potter. I wanted a girl, so I'd have company and could teach her all the things my mum taught me. I was a Muggleborn witch trying to fit into an old stagnant pureblood society. I felt trapped, and even though I had every comfort money could buy, I wanted one thing. The freedom to do and be myself. Being James' wife carried responsibilities I was unaware of. Social obligations I was unprepared to meet. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Lucy nodded. "Oh, I do. I know all about it. It's why I ran away from it."

"I pretended well, but as the months went by and the war heated up, James was often away. I was pregnant then and glad that he wasn't home for all the fuss of pregnancy. I worried for him, but at the same time was content by myself. I didn't really need him, you see. I had thought I loved him, but what I loved wasn't him, but his charm and good looks, his smile and his teasing. That's not enough to make a relationship last. We started growing apart, but I told myself that when Harry was born things would be different. James would be home more and I could rediscover my love for him. Until we discovered Harry was a stormcaller."

She went on to explain how James was petrified that Harry was going to die, that he was convinced his son wouldn't grow up to see adulthood. That he thought himself cursed. Lily had refused to accept that. She had insisted that just because all the others had gone mad and died didn't mean Harry would. James was skeptical. He wanted to believe Lily was right, but at the same time thought she was deluding herself based on the past records of stormcallers. While they were wrestling with that dilemma, Voldemort discovered Harry's talent, and decided to try and snatch the boy away and forge him into a weapon of mass destruction.

"I was all for running away, getting us out of the country, beyond the reach of that evil despot. Dignity and Gryffindor courage be damned, I just wanted my baby to be safe. I wanted to go to America, to Australia, anywhere far away. We could assume new identities, start a new life. James wouldn't hear of it. He refused to leave his ancestral home, refused to let Voldemort "chase him away like whipped dog". He wasn't afraid of Voldemort, he used to tell me. He was an Auror, and it was his job to fight dark wizards, not run from them. He was angry that I would even suggest such a thing, and told me I had no faith in him. We fought, bitterly. As a matter of fact, we had just quarreled when Voldemort came knocking at our door. Ironically, it was over the Secret Keeper. I said Sirius could break under torture. That it wasn't safe relying on a single charm, no matter how strong, to protect us all. I argued that we should have a safe spot to Apparate to, just in case. He lost his temper and shouted at me that I didn't trust his judgment, that he knew what was best for his family, that Sirius was like his brother and would never betray us. Gryffindors don't run and hide, we stand and fight. What kind of Gryffindor are you, Lily, that you've forgotten that? We're not Slytherins, to scurry off into the shadows like cowards. Like your best friend, Snivellus! I shouted back that it wasn't cowardice to live to fight another day, it was survival and that was my priority, making sure that Harry survived. He told me that my only chance at survival was to do what he said, and trust the Fidelius Charm."

"Then old Moldy Shorts shot his theory all to hell."

"Yes. You know the rest of the story." Lily said. "When I woke up, I was an emotional wreck. I still am, somewhat. But I trust Severus to help me and my son. He was always my friend. It's funny, but a part of me is . . . attracted to him. I guess I see something there now that I didn't when I was younger. I feel guilty, though. My husband died and here I am looking at another man. And yet . . . a part of me says, why not? James is dead, ten years gone, why should I mourn someone forever? I loved the man, but I wasn't in love with him there at the end. And I'm not now. Maybe I never was."

" "Tis rare to find a love that lasts for years." Lucy said sagely. "Tha married young, before that knew what tha was getting into. Tha didn't know tha true heart then. But perhaps now tha has time to learn."

"I hope so. I really want to make a fresh start, Lucy. I want to get to know my son, I missed all those early years, and I can't ever get them back. It's my greatest regret. But at least now I have time. Time to figure out myself, time to help Harry control his powers, and to become the mother I always wished to be. Maybe even time to get to know Severus again." She gazed earnestly at the other witch. "You know, you're the first real witch I've talked to from school since I woke that I haven't felt awkward around. A few days ago Mundira Patil came to visit me, and I was glad to see her, but she seemed so . . . in awe of me . . . as if I were some kind of celebrity, or a living miracle. I'm not used to that sort of thing. That's why I'm very glad to be here at Heatherton Cottage, where I can just be Lily."

"I'm happy tha came, Lily. Now I finally have another witch to talk to who doesn't look down their nose at me or my son and call me a scarlet woman with a wee bastard." Lucy declared. She lifted her chin defiantly. "I made my decision long ago and I'll stick by it. And to the crows with what anyone else thinks! Who are they to sit in judgment anyhow?" She held out a floury hand. "Friends?"

"Friends." Lily said, and clasped Lucy's hand in her own. Then she asked softly, "I love your Yorkshire accent, but I never noticed you had one at school."

Lucy smirked slyly. "That's because I didn't. I picked it up after a year or so living here and going into the village and mingling with some of the women there. Most of them don't take too kindly to strangers and so I learned to speak as they did. I also, I admit, wished to thumb my nose at my parents, who would collapse if they heard me speaking like a lower class servant girl. I'm still Lucy Nott, but not the girl I used to be. My Yorkshire is my way of showing it."

"Good for you!" Then Lily began to season the turnips with butter and salt and pepper and a dash of cinnamon and sugar.

Page Break ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Page Break

Once they had all eaten the delicious dinner of mashed turnips, chicken pot pie , fresh bread and salad, Severus took Harry for a walk out on the moor. "I need to know a few things about your stormcaller abilities before I can begin to instruct you," he began. "One of them is the range of your ability to sense a storm. Please try and concentrate on feeling for a storm in the vicinity."

Harry shut his eyes and probed with his other senses. He sort of stretched his mind out, like a pair of hands trying to feel their way in the dark, and glided above the clouds, soaring upon the air currents. All was calm and still in the upper air. He 'flew' further and further, until he finally caught a warm draft of air rising and meeting with a cold front, causing clouds heavy with precipitation to gather and wind to swirl about, the precursor to a small thunderstorm. He felt again the inexorable call to tug at the storm and bring it to him, but this time he resisted the urge. Severus had told him to just feel where the storm was, not summon it. He was unsure how far away it was, until some sixth sense told him it was over fifteen kilometers distant. He could also sense it would be a mild thunder storm, with only a few forks of lightning and thunder, this was not a high intensity system. He could make into one, he knew that instinctively. But again he locked down the impulse.

Slowly, he withdrew. Opening his eyes, he said, "I found a small storm gathering about fifteen kilometers away."

"Good. Were you tempted to call or tamper with it?"

"I was . . . but only a little. It wasn't like the last time."

"That system might have been stronger, and harder for you to resist." Severus mused. "You seem to have a fairly large range. What sort of storm was this?"

"Just a thunder storm."

"How did finding the storm make you feel? Were you excited? Alarmed?"

"Uh . . ." Harry paused for several minutes. It was a hard question to answer, since he had never really stopped to think about it. "I . . . guess it makes me feel . . .excited. When I touch the storm I feel all the energy it's generating, it flows through me. Makes me all tingly. I want to use it . . . to draw it to me."

"Does it feel uncomfortable, this drawing of power? Are you in pain when you pull it towards you?"

"Not really. It doesn't hurt when I tap into the storm, I only get a headache when I feel the storm and don't try and reach out. I get a pain behind my eyes."

Severus tapped his chin. "I see. From my reading, I have noticed that other stormcallers have complained of that symptom. I believe the headache is a result of struggling to control your urge to call a storm. Your power naturally seeks out all kinds of storms, and it does not take well to being controlled. Nevertheless, control over your power is paramount. Your talent is very dangerous, and could harm even yourself if you are not careful. I am going to teach you how to make a shield within your mind, a shield to contain your ability, so that you aren't constantly probing subconsciously for a storm to summon or manipulate. I am also going to teach you guided meditation to help you control your emotions better. From what I understand, most stormcallers have notoriously short tempers. Not a good combination."

Harry heaved a long sigh. "I do have a bit of a temper. Aunt Petunia used to say I got that from my mum and she wasn't putting up with it."

"That is something we shall work on. But that's a lesson for tomorrow night. For tonight, I wish you to practice writing with a quill and ink upon parchment."

"How come all you wizards still write with those?"

"Partly because we can enchant quills to do many things, easier than a pen. Also because a quill is an elegant instrument and encourages determination and discipline. If you have will enough to master a quill, then you have will enough to master your magic. We can obtain quills easily from our owls and other birds, but pens are a Muggle invention and not so easy to come by."

"Oh. I get it now. Thanks for telling me. How many pages should I write?"

"I have a primer in my study, you may do two exercises in it." Severus said. "Come, it's growing dark."

Harry followed Severus back to the house. Upon entering the cottage, they were met by Lucy, whose normally placid features were drawn with worry. "Master Severus, thank goodness! I was hoping thee wouldn't linger. Theo's foot has been paining him something terrible. He won't let me see it, says it's nothing, but I know better. I think he overstrained it."

"I will see him in a moment." Severus promised, then he Summoned the primer from his library and gave it to Harry. "Here. Go and start on your assignment while I see what Theodore has done to his foot."

Harry took the book, but then followed Severus to the large den, where Theo was lying on the couch, his foot propped up by several pillows, white-faced with pain and biting his lip. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Theodore, what have I told you about overstressing your foot?" Severus sighed, moving over beside the boy. "Be still and let me see what you've done to yourself."

Theo grimaced. "I'm all right, sir. It's just a cramp."

Severus harrumphed and gently took Theo's foot on his lap, removing the brace as he did so.