Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
I did plan on posting this several days ago but alas, real life got a bit messy again. Sorry about that.
A Brief Appearance of the Doe

Two days passed in which Severus did not see Harry Potter again. He got the house fully cleaned out, did some repair work and even got most of the furniture replaced. Still there was no sight of Harry Potter. Not that Severus wanted to see the boy, of course. It was merely that little smile the boy had given him that had made him think that the boy would search him out again. But perhaps he had been wrong.

Perhaps Potter had just decided to leave Severus alone. Severus hoped so. Then he cursed quietly as he found himself looking out the window, searching for the boy.

With the house in a liveable condition Severus moved on to the back yard, deciding that he might as well get that cleared out as well. He might even plant some potions ingredients. Nothing that needed too much time to grow, of course, seeing as it was really a bit too late to plant anything new and expect a good result. Even so, it would be a shame to leave the garden in its terrible condition now when the house was finally up to par. And Severus never did have much patience for planting useless flowers anyway.

“Mr. Snaape! Mr. Snape! Where are you?”

The shout interrupted the peace of his work and Severus looked up.

“Mr. Snaape!”

The familiar voice was loud as ever and, perhaps a little surprisingly, happy as ever too. Severus stood, wiping away the dirt and weeds that clung to his clothes, and made his way towards the house.

As expected he found the Potter boy outside his door, alongside Joseph. The boy looked very excited and was smiling widely, although he notably did not hug Severus the way he had last time they came knocking on his door.

“We’re going fishing!” the boy explained, by way of greeting. “You want to come?”

A quick glance at Joseph revealed that the man was indeed holding on to three fishing rods.

“Just a bit down the river,” Joseph added.

“Do you want to come?” the boy repeated. “Gramps say’s there are loads of fish in the river! And he’s going to show me how to catch them!”

Expectant green eyes looked up at him, pleading with him to say yes. Severus’ knees ached from kneeling for too long on the hard ground. He could get the back yard in order later, right?

“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing at Joseph.

“Harry wants you to come,” Joseph stated. “I’ve got an extra fishing rod. It’s up to you whether you want to come or not.”

Why not? Severus decided. He could use a break anyway.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

Soon thereafter they had left the houses behind them and were walking through a piece of forest Severus remembered from his childhood. The path they were following was familiar too. Severus could remember Joseph taking Lily, Petunia and him fishing in the summers, walking alongside this very path. The forest had grown a bit, so things were not exactly the same, but Severus still knew where they were going.

“I’m going to catch a fish this big!” the boy exclaimed, holding his hands ridiculously far apart.

“Maybe so,” Joseph chuckled.

“I’ll catch a hundred fishes!” the boy continued, eagerly running ahead on the path.

Severus felt a bit awkward, not one to encourage such nonsense talk yet unwilling to make the boy stop smiling. Especially considering Joseph’s presence and their conversation the other night. If you don’t want to see him I suggest you say so now, Joseph’s voice rang in his head. The elder man had been completely serious, a clear warning not to do anything to harm the boy again. Yet Potter had apologised to him and even smiled, and in that moment he had been very reminiscent of his mother.

Severus found he could almost tolerate the boy’s excited state. Perhaps it was just Joseph’s presence and the familiar surroundings of his childhood but he had the distinct feeling that Lily would not like for him to turn his back on her son. Not that the boy needed Severus, of course. Severus didn’t need or want the boy either, but perhaps he should just keep an eye on him, even now, as a sort of last favour towards his childhood friend?

“He hasn’t been fishing before,” Joseph explained. “He’s been begging me to take him for weeks now.”

“I see,” Severus replied noncommittedly.

They reached the river and Joseph helped the boy get his hook into the water and showed him how to hold the fishing rod. Severus listened with half an ear, having received the same instructions several times as a child, and quickly put a worm on his own hook and threw it into the water a bit further up the river.

Once the hook was in the water the boy sat down on the river bend, staring intently at the cork. Severus almost felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the sight, so eager did the boy look.

“Well, this’ll be interesting,” Joseph commented as he too put his hook into the water, standing in between Severus and Harry.

“I’m sure it will,” Severus agreed.

A few minutes later Severus’ cork sank and he reeled in the first fish of the day, a rather small dace.

“You got one, you got one!” the boy chanted excitedly, almost dropping his own fishing rod in his eagerness to get to Severus and see the fish in question.

“Harry, be careful!” Joseph chided. “We wouldn’t want to get one of us on the hook, would we?”

Severus carefully unhooked the dace and, considering its size, let it back into the water.

“Why’d you let it go?” the boy asked, looking at Severus as if he was crazy.

“It was too small,” Severus explained. “Better to let it grow a bit more.”

After that the boy returned to his own fishing, staring even more intently on the cork as it gently bobbed on the water.

“I remember your excitement the first time you caught a fish, Severus,” Joseph commented.

Severus kept his face calm and did not reveal the embarrassment he felt at the memory. At ten Severus had basically danced with joy at the little perch he had caught. As he retold the story later it grew in size every time.

“Yes, well … I was a child back then,” Severus stated, clearing his throat.

“I never said there was anything wrong with your excitement,” Joseph smiled. “In fact, I quite enjoyed seeing you smile like that. You were always a very serious child.”

A moment later Joseph’s cork sank and he man reeled in a dace, a bit larger than the one Severus had caught. Potter looked on with longing as Joseph removed the fish, killed it and put it aside before returning his hook to the water. Then the boy was back to staring at his cork.

Time passed. Severus reeled in another two daces, these two of a decent size, and Joseph three perches. Still Potter had not gotten a single catch and he was growing visibly more impatient by the minute.

“Some bad luck there,” Severus commented at last, fearing a tantrum was on its way.

Joseph chuckled.

“Well, you could say that. Personally I bet he’d have a lot more luck if he’d use bait.”

“He’s not using bait?” Severus asked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

“Nope. Felt sorry for the worm and wouldn’t let me pierce it on the hook.”

Which was such a Lily thing to do that Severus almost laughed. While no vegetarian Lily had always felt strongly about the suffering of innocent animals and had often preferred to use alternative baits, such as pieces of sausages, cheese chunks or even bread.

Standing on the riverside in the sunshine was quite relaxing and Severus found he was in a rather good mood. There were a few birds singing somewhere in the trees, the soft rippling of the water in the warm summer breeze and the sounds of low conversation going on to his right. He closed his eyes and angled his face towards the sun. If he were to be honest he was more relaxed now than he had been for a very long time. Which was strange, considering that he was in the company of Harry Potter of all people. Yet here he was. Enjoying an afternoon fishing almost as much as he had as a child.

“You want to change places?” Joseph offered as he reeled in yet another dace.

“Yes please!” the boy eagerly replied, quickly moving towards the indicated place.

Joseph chuckled, returned the small fish to the water and went to take the place his grandson had vacated.

“I want to catch fishes too,” the boy complained.

“You can’t catch fish without a bait,” Joseph stated.

The boy pouted and returned to staring at the cork in front of him, obviously hoping to prove his grandfather wrong.

To Severus surprise there was no tantrum. Potter didn’t even seem to lose much interest in the fishing, despite his lack of luck. Even so, as time wore on, the boy became more and more impatient, obviously encouraged in his envy as Joseph and Severus both continued to occasionally reel in their catch.

“Gramps?” he finally said, his voice low. “Will you help me put on the bait?”

Although he would deny it to death it was with amusement that Severus watched the boy tightly close his eyes just as Joseph was about to put the worm on the hook, almost as if he expected it to hurt on him and not the worm. It was almost strange, seeing the boy who resembled his father so act so much like his mother.

“There,” Joseph said. “All done.”

The hook went into the water and Potter stared at the cork so intently he seemed to forget both blinking and breathing. The cork lay on the water surface, bobbing up and down gently but not sinking. Severus found himself watching the boy’s cork, almost forgetting to watch his own. And then, finally …

“I’ve got one! I’ve got one! SEE!”

Indeed it was a catch and with only a little help from Joseph the boy reeled in a perch that was about twice as large as the ones Severus and Joseph had caught.

“I got one, I got one, I got one!” the boy chanted as Joseph removed the fish from the hook. “See, I told you I’d get a big one!”

After that the boy caught another two ones before Joseph decided it was time to go home. There was only a minor amount of complaining and on the way home the boy insisted on carrying his own fish.

They ate dinner together that evening, Joseph and Severus de-scaling and filleting the fish before Joseph pan fried it. The end result was marvellous and reminded Severus of many similar evenings, spent with Lily and her family. As he now looked at the boy sitting opposite of him by the table he realised that perhaps there was more of her in her son than he had originally thought. 

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Already the next morning there was a knock on his door and an eager shout of “Mr. Snaape! It’s me, Harry! Do you want to go fishing with us again?”

Severus glanced at the overgrown back yard and allowed himself to be dragged away. He had enjoyed himself, so why not give it another try?

And so another pleasant day fishing from the riverside passed by. Once again Severus ended up joining them for dinner and didn’t leave until it was bedtime for the boy.

This set the routine for the days that followed. The boy continued to show up to knock on Severus door every day, if not in the morning at least in the afternoon. He always had some request for Severus; join them fishing, come over for tea, take a walk with them, play with Harry … The requests never seemed to end and although it went against all of his instincts Severus found that he really didn’t mind that much. Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing.

Somewhere along the line the boy went from being ‘the boy’ or ‘Potter’ or even ‘Lily’s son’ to being just ‘Harry’. Severus was not quite sure how or when it happened but if felt natural, so he stuck with it.

Then the weather turned on them in the form of rain. Although this had Severus somewhat deterred it seemed to have little effect on the child.

“We should bake something!” the boy exclaimed.

Joseph and Severus looked at each other where they were sitting in the living room. Although a decent enough cook Joseph was not that talented in the kitchen, having relied on Daisy for most of the cooking. Of course he had learned over the last few years, when she had fallen ill, but his recipe for baking was usually to go to the local baker. Severus, on the other hand, although talented at potions had never really learned to cook, much less bake. Why bother with the house elves around?

“Maybe some other time,” Joseph said.

“Why not now?”

“Well … Because we might not have everything we need at home.”

“But you haven’t even checked yet!”

Harry was bouncing up and down on his feet in his eagerness. In contrast, neither Severus nor Joseph looked very excited where they sat in the armchairs. Joseph got up with a sigh, heading for the kitchen.

“What do you want to make then?” he asked.

“Chocolate chip biscuits!”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips,” Joseph stated at once.

“I’ve still got that chocolate bar you got me.”

Amused Severus listened to the boy and the old man talking in the kitchen. Joseph’s uncomfortableness was quite obvious but so was the fact that he did not like denying his grandson anything. Watching this unfold could be quite interesting.

Something soft hit him in the face.

“Get up Severus! If I have to bake, so do you!”

Awkwardly Severus lifted the thing that had hit him in the face, untangled it and then stared in horror at the flowery apron.

“Come on Severus! Those biscuits aren’t going to bake themselves, you know,” Joseph urged him on once again.

“I am not wearing this,” Severus stated, glaring at Joseph.

Only to discover that the man was wearing another floral pattered apron. It had ruffles too.

“Yes you are. Now come on!”

With great reluctance Severus stood and approached the kitchen, apron in hand.

The ingredients had apparently been set out on the kitchen table and Harry, wearing a third flowery apron, was busily reading from an ancient looking cookbook, sounding out the words as he did so.

Beat … eggs … one … at … a … time … then … stir …

Severus glared at Joseph.

“I am not baking!” he stated.

“Sure you are! And when we’re finished you can lick the bowl, like in the old times!”

“Can I lick the bowl too?” Harry eagerly wondered.

If at all possible, Severus’ glare turned even more murderous. He had been nine! And ten, eleven and twelve, but still! He’d been a child back then! Lily had been the one wanting to help her mother bake, by the way. Severus had only joined them because it would be impolite not to. Perhaps also a little because Daisy had bribed him with her delicious dough. But still!

Joseph seemed to be taking the whole ordeal with humour and had returned to the kitchen table, reading the recipe over Harry’s shoulder.

Perhaps it would be best if Severus stayed and watched the two botch things up, if only to make sure they didn’t burn the house down. Severus glanced at the oven, noticing that it had not been turned on yet. Daisy had always done that first, he remembered, deciding not to point that fact out just yet. Instead he put the apron on a counter and seated himself on the opposite side of the table, watching the other two get to work.

“Looks like we need the butter and the sugar first,” Joseph stated, reaching for said ingredients.

“And a bowl and something to stir with!” Harry added, darting away to search for said items.

With some help from Joseph with regards to measuring the appropriate amounts Harry then added the ingredients to the bowl and began attacking it with the wooden spoon. Watching the boy struggle with the hard butter Severus realised that he apparently remembered more about baking than he had recalled. At least when it came to biscuits, which had been a favourite of both Lily and Daisy. He remembered that they’d always remove the butter from the refrigerator in advance, so that it had time to soften before they got started.

Still, watching the little boy wrestle with the bowl and the spoon as he tried to squash the hard butter was strangely amusing.

When Harry grew tired Joseph took over, having a little more success at squashing the butter.

“Whew, I never knew baking was so hard!” Joseph commented. “Daisy made it look so easy!”

They added the eggs and the vanilla, taking turns to stir the mixture.

“Dissolve baking soda in hot water and add to batter along with salt,” Joseph read aloud.

He sighed, looking between the kitchen table and the water tap, appearing to be measuring the distance.

“Could you do that, Severus?” he asked.

“He needs to have his apron on!” the boy exclaimed

“I am not wearing an apron,” Severus objected.

“But you have to! No baking without an apron, right gramps!”

Seeing as there were already stains on the boy’s apron that was probably a good rule. Not that it should apply to Severus, of course, who had no plans on spilling anything on himself.

“Harry’s right, Severus. No baking without an apron.”

The old man just wanted to see Severus wearing that ridiculous apron! Severus wanted to refuse, but two amused pairs of green eyes looking at him and he found himself softening. What harm could it do? It wasn’t like anyone else could see him. So, with a tortured sigh, he put the apron on and went to measure up the given amount of hot water and baking soda.

Once the baking soda was dissolved he added it to the bowl. Joseph held onto the bowl as Harry stirred, mixing it all.

Next came the flour and the chocolate chips, at which point Severus became happy about the apron. Somehow the boy managed to get flour not only onto himself, but Joseph and Severus as well, as he stirred the batter. In the end Severus had to take over the stirring, making sure it all mixed properly.

At last the other two realised that the oven needed to be turned on. Joseph quickly did so before they focused on getting the dough out onto the pan, which was easier said than done. In the end it turned out as two big biscuits and a few smaller ones. Severus was more than a little apprehensive about how it would all turn out.

The biscuits finally in the oven, Harry collapsed into a tired pile on the kitchen floor, leaving he cleaning up to the adults.

Joseph smiled and allowed it.

Severus wanted to tell the boy to get up and help clean up the mess that he had created but held his tongue.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry smiled to himself as he lay on the floor, watching his gramps and Mr. Snape clean up. Making biscuits had been fun and it had been nice eating all that dough, but the best part had definitely been seeing his gramps and Mr. Snape in those aprons. Harry thought they looked funny; almost as if they were wearing girl’s summer dresses.

He wondered how Mr. Snape would look in an actual dress. Maybe he would draw that later. Though he’d probably make sure not to show the drawing to Mr. Snape later. Or maybe he should, just to see what the reaction would be.

Suddenly he remembered that he had drawn Mr. Snape a picture last night. Not one with Mr. Snape wearing a dress of course, but one portraying the three of them fishing by the river. He should go get it and give it to him now, before he forgot again. After all, he had worked really hard on that picture. So Harry sprang up and left the room on silent feet, not realising that neither of the adults had noticed his disappearance.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Thank you for doing this, Severus.”

Severus looked up from the dishes he was cleaning and met the eyes of the older man. Joseph were looking at him seriously, his eyes speaking of appreciation and gratefulness. Not knowing what to say to that Severus merely shrugged. He had helped make biscuits. His students would never believe it but here, in this particular company, he once again found he didn’t honestly mind that much. It went against his very nature and yet it was completely true. Not that he knew how to put that into words. So the shrug was the best response he could give.

Joseph seemed to understand.

“I know you probably have better things to do,” the older man continued. “Both Harry and I appreciate you taking the time for us.”

“It’s nothing,” Severus said, trying to minimize it. “I’ve got things to take care of here anyway. Taking a few breaks now and then is no big deal.”

At that Joseph laughed. 

“If it weren’t for us that house would have been cleaned out a week ago!” he stated, giving Severus a knowing look. “I’ve had my hands full trying to give you some time alone. Harry’s really taken to you, you know.”

Once again the statement left Severus without a response and so he chose to remain quiet. Joseph could fill in the gaps of the conversation if he wanted to. Instead Severus returned his attention to the dishes in front of him.

“It’s been good for him,” Joseph continued after a moment. “He doesn’t have many friends so he gets lonely sometimes.”

A realisation hit Severus then; he had never seen Harry with other children. Not once. And the boy rarely spoke of his classmates or friends, seeming to prefer the company of Severus and Joseph instead. Was that normal behaviour in a child? Severus didn’t think so. At least not if his students were anything to go by. Then again, Hogwarts was a boarding school and therefore offered a very minimal chance of being alone for any longer period of time.

“Doesn’t he have any friends the same age that he can play with?” Severus asked, curious and, for some reason, concerned.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Why?”

Joseph shrugged.

“He had to change schools mid-term and I believe he’s a bit shy at school, probably because of his background. Guess that’s enough for the other children to pick on him.”

Memories of his own childhood flooded back; of being the strange boy in the strange clothes, of his peers avoiding him or actively making fun of him because of it. Lily had been the exception; the only one who had seen past his raggedy appearance and seen the lonely boy he had been.

So Severus knew what it was like to be bullied and ostracised by his peers but he never would have imagined that to be the life of Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived; Lily’s boy. The thought alone was hard to take in, for numerous reasons, but having gotten to know the boy in question he now found himself wondering how the boy would be able to take it all until he started Hogwarts. If he would be able to take it all.

“I’ve talked to the teacher of course,” Joseph continued, “but sadly she says there is nothing she can do. Not that she haven’t tried. It just seems to make things worse though.”

Yes, Severus could imagine that. Children could be cruel little beasts and while a teacher may have some ability to control their class in that sense, there was no way for said teacher to always be present. Thus, life could be hard for one who was considered an outsider by his classmates. Severus knew this and he also knew, from his own experience, that there was little point in hoping for a change.

“I see,” he muttered, finishing the dishes at last.

Silence reigned for a moment; a silence during which Severus pondered what he had just heard and the strangely strong emotions it had awakened within him. It was more than pity, more than recognising himself in the boy’s situation. He cared. Not only because the boy was Lily’s or because he was Harry Potter, but because he was Harry. The happy, foolish, sometimes idiotic but still gentle and loving little boy that Severus had gotten to know since their unexpected run in with each other. Severus didn’t like the thought of that boy being unhappy the way he himself had been as a child.

He opened his mouth to say something. What he wasn’t quite sure of. Perhaps it was to offer empty words of comfort, perhaps to try and provide the elder man with some hope or maybe, just maybe, it was to promise his help, impossible as it might seem to solve such a problem as bullying. Either way the words never left his lips as a series of loud thuds echoed in from the entryway, ending with a crash.

Startled by the noise both Joseph and Severus looked up, then towards the spot where they had last seen the boy. Gone. Almost as one they rushed towards the entryway where the sounds had come from, Severus still holding the towel on which he had been wiping his hands.

They found Harry in a bundle on the floor beneath the stairs. A small table had been knocked to the side and the telephone which usually was on top of it a bit further away. Neither Joseph nor Severus paid much attention to the table or the phone though.

“Harry!” Joseph exclaimed. “What happened?”

He knelt down by the boy’s side, worriedly reaching for his grandson. Severus stood behind him, already reaching for his wand to cast a few diagnostic spells. Amazingly, however, the boy sat up, looking a little dazed but unharmed.

“Are you alright?” Joseph asked, hands already searching his grandson for injuries.

With worrying familiarity the boy tested his arms, stretching them and moving them around, before doing the same with his legs.

“I’m fine,” the stated, a tone of amazement in his voice.

“What happened?” Joseph repeated, his hands still searching for injuries.

“I stumbled on the carpet and I fell. I thought it would hurt, like it did last time, but it didn’t. It didn’t hurt at all! Isn’t that amazing?!”

At the reference to the past Severus couldn’t help but wince a little. So this was not the first time the boy fell down a staircase. Briefly he wondered if it had been an accident then too or if he had gotten “help” to fall. Somehow he suspected the latter.

“It didn’t hurt at all gramps!” Harry repeated, quickly standing.

“Thank God you’re alright!” Joseph exclaimed. “But be careful, in case there are any internal injuries. Severus, we should call an ambulance, just in case. Get the phone, please, and …”

“No need,” Severus interrupted. “I can check him over myself.”

Quickly he pulled his wand out and cast a few diagnostic spells. They were nothing particularly advanced, as Severus was not a healer, just a collection of various diagnostic spells that almost anyone could learn. If there were any hidden injuries one of the spells ought to pick up on them. None of them wielded any results however. It appeared the boy had been saved by accidental magic.

“Nothing,” Severus stated. “He’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief and hugged his grandson tightly. Quietly, Severus too let out a relieved breath. Harry, however, had his eyes fixed on Severus wand.

“What’re you doing with that stick, Mr. Snape?” he asked, apparently having already forgotten his near death experience moments ago.

And suddenly Severus remembered that the boy was not aware of magic, much less of the fact that Severus was a wizard.

“Well …”

Now, how was he supposed to explain not only the existence of magic, wizards and witches but also the fact that Potter and Lily had been murdered by one of the darkest wizards of the century, to the boy? The task seemed impossible. Severus had no idea of where to start.

“It’s a wand,” Joseph’s voice broke in. “Severus is a wizard and with the help of his wand he can do magic.”

“But magic isn’t real. Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon says so.”

“Not everything they told you is true,” Joseph explained, a vaguely pained expression on his face. “This is one of those things. Magic is real.”

Harry still didn’t look convinced, glancing doubtfully at Severus and his wand. Meanwhile Severus stood dumbfounded as he found himself excluded from this revelation of the magical world. How was it that it was Joseph, a muggle, who knew what to say, when Severus, the wizard, had no idea of where to begin?

“It is real,” Joseph repeated. “Your mother was a witch and your father a wizard. Severus went to school with them.”

“But magic isn’t real,” the boy insisted, though his voice was wavering. “Uncle Vernon said it’s just tricks and humbug for people who’re too lazy to get a real job.”

Severus’ hand tightened around his wand in anger. It was one thing to hide the existence of magic from the boy, another to try and turn him against all that was magic. What had the muggles been thinking? They knew that Harry would be going to Hogwarts one day. What had they been planning on telling him then?

“Your uncle lied,” Joseph calmly explained, still kneeling on the ground, eyes on the same level as Harry’s. “He isn’t magical like you or your parents, and sometimes non-magical people get jealous of those who do have magic. Not that that is an excuse for him to lie to you like that.”

Again Harry glanced hesitantly at Severus, who decided that he had been ignored long enough. He was the magical one here! Not that Joseph wasn’t doing a decent enough job of explaining things to the boy anyway, but still! So Severus waved his wand and spoke two words. From the tip of his wand sprang a silvery doe. On ethereal legs she sprang around the room, searching for any danger to her summoner, before she came to a halt in front of him. Her head turned lightly as she watched from Severus to Joseph to Harry.

Wow!” Harry said slowly, eyes huge as saucers.

He reached a hand out, as if to touch the doe, but then pulled back a little, glancing hesitantly at Severus. Suddenly Severus regretted his choice of spell. It had felt right at the moment, so much that the feeling alone had been enough to summon the doe. Now his heart was clenching and Severus did not know how to handle any of this. Lily’s death was still a very sensitive subject to him and here he was, summoning the doe that was proof of his love to her in front of her orphaned son and her elderly father. And Harry, unaware of it all as he was, reaching for the doe that symbolised his long dead mother.

“She’s not real,” Severus whispered, a strange lump having formed in his throat and made him unable to speak any louder at the moment.

Harry looked disappointed. The doe stepped forward, pushing her muzzle into the boy’s hand. Patronuses were like ghosts in that they had no corporeal form; ones hand sank right through them if one tried to touch them. Even so the doe seemed to cuddle Harry’s hand as the boy held himself absolutely still.

“Feels funny,” the boy said at last. “Tingles, kind of, but still like there’s nothing there.”

As if to prove his point he moved a finger. It went straight through the doe. She didn’t seem to mind though, for all appearances enjoying the caress. Severus couldn’t take it anymore and with a wave of his wand she was gone, leaving behind her three speechless people.

Joseph recovered first.

“Well, that was impressive,” he stated, referring to the spell.

Severus nodded, not referring to the spell. He had never seen a patronus behave the way his doe just had, not without any sort of instruction from its summoner.

“It’s real,” the boy stated, looking at his hand as if he had suddenly grown extra fingers. “Magic’s real.”

Both Joseph and Severus nodded quietly.

“The biscuits!” the boy suddenly exclaimed, running for the kitchen.

Startled by the sudden shout and change of topic it took the adults a moment to realise what the boy was talking about. Once they did catch on they quickly followed the boy, realising that the smell of burning food was quickly becoming stronger.

“Don’t touch that Harry!” Joseph ordered, pulling his grandson away from the oven.

Severus quickly opened it and removed the biscuits. They were black and smoking.

“I think we’ll need something else for our afternoon tea,” Joseph stated after a moment. “What do you say we head down to the bakery? Seems the rain is finally stopping.”

They agreed to do so, since none of the biscuits were edible.

After throwing away the ruined biscuits and cleaning up the mess in the entryway all three left the house.

“So my mom was a witch?” Harry asked after a moment, latching on to Severus’ hand as they walked.

“She was,” Severus confirmed, futilely trying to free himself from the boy’s grip.

“And you went to school with her? And my dad?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so cool! What was it like? What kind of things did you use to do? What was her favourite subject? How did she …”

“One question at a time, Harry,” Joseph chided. “And maybe Severus doesn’t want to talk about this at all.”

Green eyes looked pleadingly up at him and Severus sighed.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“What is it like going to a school for magic?”

“It was … school,” Severus stated, unsure of what to tell a boy who knew absolutely nothing of the magical world. Then he decided to start with the basics.

“The magical school here in the UK is called Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts? That’s a funny name.”

“Maybe so. Hogwarts is a big castle in Scotland. It’s a boarding school, so students live there for most of the year, except for Christmas and summer.”

“What do they teach?”

“Magic, in various forms. There is charms, and transfiguration, history of magic, potions … Quite a lot of subjects actually. Some are obligatory and some are elective.”

“What was my mom’s favourite subject?”  

“She was quite skilled in most subjects, though I think potions and transfiguration were her favourites.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Potions and transfiguration?”

“Well … Potions is the art of making potions; anything from a headache reliever to Polyjuice potion, which will allow you to take on another human’s body for an hour, or Felix Felicis, which is called liquid luck because it gives the one who drinks it luck for a limited amount of time.”

Wow!”

“Transfiguration is the art of turning one object into something else. For example, turning pet into a water cup and back.”

“Wouldn’t that hurt the pet?”

“No, not if you do it correctly. Which is why it is such an important subject.”

“Hm … I think Potions sounds cooler.”

Severus smirked a little at that. Indeed, potions was “cooler” than transfiguration, no disrespect towards Minerva McGonagall intended.

Their walk continued like that; Harry asking questions and Severus answering them to the best of his ability. Soon enough they reached the street on which the local bakery was located. Once the bakery was within sight Harry finally (finally!) let go of Severus’ hand and ran ahead of the adults.

“Hello, Mr. Gibson!” they could hear the boy call as he pushed the door open.

“Prepare yourself,” Joseph warned Severus, his tone humorous. “Harry’s got the Gibson’s wrapped around his little finger.”

Mr. Gibson was a large, kind looking man whom Severus remembered from his own childhood. Now the man was in his forties.

“What can I do for you today my boy?” the man was asking as Severus and Joseph entered the bakery.

“We need biscuits for our tea,” Harry explained, smiling widely. “We tried to make our own but they went all black and disgusting.”

“I see, I see,” Mr. Gibson laughed. “What kind of biscuits would you like? I’ve got chocolate, chocolate chips, almond and peanut butter.”

“All of them!” the boy exclaimed.

“Pick two,” Joseph ordered. “I’m not buying four kinds of biscuits just for our afternoon tea.”

“Aww,” the boy whined before turning towards the displayed biscuits.

He spent several minutes looking between the two, perhaps hoping that Joseph would give in if he stalled enough. Finally Harry pointed towards one pile of biscuits.

“The chocolate chip ones,” he decided.

“How many?” Mr. Gibson wondered, bringing out a paper bag.

“Four,” Joseph said, before Harry could say anything else.

Severus had the feeling that Harry would have ordered forty of he had been allowed to decide.

“Four chocolate chip biscuits,” Mr. Gibson repeated as he filled the bag with the requested goods. “What else?”

“Hm … Almond. No, Peanut … Almond.”

“Which one is it?”

“Almond,” the boy stated, a sad glance towards the peanut butter biscuits.

“Four almond biscuits,” Mr. Gibson repeated, adding said items to the bag “and a couple of peanut butter ones, as a treat from me.”

“Really? Thanks, Mr. Gibson!”

Harry’s smile seemed to light up the room and Mr. Gibson laughed as he took the money Joseph offered and returned the change, along with the bag of biscuits.

“No problem at all. Just don’t tell my wife.”

Joseph pocketed the change and then they left the bakery, Harry once again running ahead as they headed back home.

“What’d I say?” Joseph commented with a smile.

“Kind of him to give you a few extra biscuits,” Severus agreed.

“He almost always does, ever since Harry came to live with me. They love fawning over him. You should see Mrs. Gibson when she’s on it!”

Since Severus had no idea who Mrs. Gibson was he simply imagined her as a young Daisy Evans, practically force-feeding him with her homemade biscuits while complaining that he looked much too thin. The memory made him smile.

Going to the bakery they had been going downhill, so now they made their way back up the hill at a more leisured pace. The two adults walked together and talked while Harry was running ahead. Somewhere he had picked up a stick, which he was now waving around and shouting nonsense words.

“I’m a wizard!” he shouted, waving his stick at a stone by the road. “Abracadabra! Turn into a bunny!”

“It’s been an adventurous day today,” Joseph stated tiredly. “Baking biscuits, falling down the stairs, finding out he’s a wizard … Hopefully he’ll settle down a bit once we’ve had our tea.”

“Not very likely, considering all the biscuits,” Severus commented. “He’ll be more likely to get into a sugar-induced frenzy.”

“You’re right, of course. I guess it’s just me that’s getting old …”

“You are not that old,” Severus pointed out.

“Seventy-two, Severus. Last time I checked, that’s old.”

For muggles perhaps, Severus thought to himself. Wizards tended to live longer and healthier, as their magic protected them from many of the diseases that plagued muggles. Not to mention wizards like Nicholas Flamel, who used magical potions and spells to give themselves lives that were unnaturally long even for wizards. Then again, even muggles often lived past seventy with a good margin.

“It’s not that old,” Severus stated.

“Feeling quite old right now, I’m afraid.”

Noticing that the older man was panting Severus came to an abrupt halt.

“Are you alright?” he wondered, eyeing the other man.

“Just need to stop and breathe for a moment, Severus. No worry.”

Joseph’s tone was dismissive but Severus was not convinced. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he noticed the other man was not just panting but also sweating and holding a hand to his chest.

“Something is wrong,” Severus stated. “You should see a doctor.”

“No worry, my boy. Just walking a bit too briskly up the hill, that’s all.”

Glancing around to make sure there were no muggles around Severus whipped out his wand and quickly cast a few diagnostic spells. The results confirmed Severus’ fears.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I’ll call a doctor for you.”

“Don’t do that. I don’t want to worry Harry.”

“You should worry more about yourself right now.”

“I can’t. I need to take care of Harry; I don’t have time to get ill.”

“You won’t be able to do much for him if you’re dead,” Severus proclaimed, helping the older man to continue walking.

“I’m sure it’s not that serious, Severus …”

“It’s your heart!” Severus bit out.

“My heart?”

“Yes! And last time I checked that was a rather vital organ even to muggles!”

To that Joseph could not object and they continued on their way back home, Joseph leaning on Severus and struggling to breathe. Severus cursed the fact that he had never bothered to learn many healing spells; instead preferring to rely on potions. They were generally more effective but also less readily available than spells that could be cast in a matter of moments. As a result Severus did not know how to help Joseph other than to get him back home and call for a muggle doctor, who would surely be equipped to deal with any muggle heart disorder.

“What’s going on?” Harry suddenly asked, coming up beside them. “Don’t you feel good, gramps?”

“No need to worry, Harry. Just a little out of breath.”

The boy did not look convinced and instead opted to copy what Severus was doing, helping his grandfather get back home. Of course, though Harry meant well his short stature made it that it was mostly him getting helped, not the other way around. Neither of the adults had the heart to point that out though.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Gramps wasn’t feeling well.

Harry didn’t like that. Not at all.

Would his gramps be alright? Harry hoped so, because he really did love his grandfather. He didn’t want gramps to be unwell.

When they finally reached their home Mr. Snape ordered that Harry take gramps to sit on the couch while he made a phone call. Harry did so without complaining, although he was almost panting himself from the effort of helping his grandfather get back home. Gramps’ panting was worse. And he was sweating too, and looking a bit pale. Though Harry could tell that gramps was trying not to show it, it was obvious that the man wasn’t feeling well at all.

“You want a biscuit?” Harry wondered, thinking about how gramps had fed him ice cream when Harry had gotten a bad cold earlier in the year.

“No thank you, Harry. I’ll just sit here and rest for a while.”

“Ok.”

Feeling useless Harry looked around the room, as if expecting a solution to his problem to jump out of one of the paintings. From the entryway he could hear Mr. Snape talking on the phone. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but there were words such as “heart problem” and “lack of oxygen”. He didn’t know what that meant but it didn’t sound very well.

Finally Mr. Snape came off the phone and into the living room, looking worried.

“An ambulance is on the way,” he said.

“Surely that’s not necessary?”

“Perhaps not but surely you agree that it is best to be certain in a situation like this?”

The adults argued back and forth but Harry did not listen. He had stopped listening when he heard the word “ambulance”. Ambulances were for people who were very, very ill. Gramps didn’t look that bad but he didn’t look good either … Was gramps really that ill? Harry felt his eyes tear up at the thought.

“I don’t want you to die!” he cried, tears running down his cheeks.

Desperate for comfort he clung to his grandfather’s arm, horrified at the thought of losing him.

“I won’t die!” gramps assured him, though Harry could not stop crying. “I won’t die Harry, I promise you that. There is way too much to do for that!”

“The doctors just want to be sure,” Mr. Snape’s calm voice added. “If he’s ill then they’ll be able to treat him. But it might not be very serious.”

The two men continued to comfort him and Harry continued to cry, clinging to his grandfather. He could not stand the thought of losing the man who had taken such good care of him, who had been so kind and who had taken Harry in, basically saving him from his aunt and uncle. The prospect of losing that man was so awful Harry did not know how to put it into words.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Standing in the doorway and watching as the ambulance drove away with Joseph Severus felt a surge of helplessness like nothing he had felt for quite some time. At his side stood Harry, clinging to Severus and crying quietly.

At least the boy was no longer hysteric, Severus tried to comfort himself.

It didn’t work.

What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t know how to take care of young children. Although he had spent some time with Harry and Joseph lately that did not mean that he knew what to do with the boy. Frankly, he was highly unsuitable and unqualified for the task of taking care of the boy on his own.

Yet here he was. Alone with the child; having promised Joseph to take care of him until the doctors released him from the hospital.

“Do you want some tea?” Severus finally asked.

Harry shook his head, still staring at the point where the ambulance had disappeared around a corner. Severus sighed.

“Come on,” he said, guiding the child back into the house. “I believe some tea will do you good. Have a biscuit while I get it ready.”

Chocolate and some warm tea could only do the boy good at this point, Severus reasoned.

Wordlessly Harry sat down on the couch, nibbling on a biscuit. That too was a sign of the boy’s current distress. Normally he would bite off a big piece of biscuit and barely chew at all. Still, nibbling was better than nothing, Severus supposed.

Preparing the tea was no difficult task and soon enough Severus had joined Harry in the living room, pouring two cups of tea for them. They then sat in silence, sipping their tea occasionally and nibbling on their biscuits.

Silence reigned as neither knew what to say, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“Couldn’t you use magic to make gramps better?” Harry suddenly asked, taking Severus by surprise.

“No,” Severus murmured, “unfortunately not.”

“Why not? It’s magic!”

“I’m not a healer,” Severus explained tiredly. “I don’t know many healing spells.”

“But there are spells that could help him?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not a healer.”

“What’s a healer anyway?”

“It’s a doctor for wizards.”

“And they could help my gramps?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

Severus sighed. He was not in a mood of explaining magical theory to an emotional five year old. However, judging from the determined look on the boy’s face, he would have to explain it or deal with a tantrum.

“Because your grandfather is a muggle,” Severus stated. “Magic works differently on him than it does on wizards. At least healing magic does.”

“How?”

“Healing spells and potions interact with the magic within the one being subjected to them, helping them to recover from whatever is ailing them.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I were to give you a potion or use a healing spell on you, the magic of that spell or potion would mix with your magic. They would help your magic make you better. However, because your grandfather does not have any magic of his own a spell or a potion would be useless on him.”

At least that was the problem with most healing spells and potions. Severus did definitely not feel like trying to explain the specific differences between certain spells, or healing magic and hexes, curses or even regular spells, and so he refrained from mentioning any of it. It was probably too advanced for the child anyway.

“Oh.”

Silence reigned again as the boy mulled that over. Severus did not interrupt him, preferring the silence to the questioning.

They sat like that for a long time, until the soft chime of the clock alerted Severus to the fact that it was now dinnertime. Personally he was not hungry and Harry didn’t look very hungry either, but he knew that it would be best if he prepared something for them to eat. Which begged the question; what to make for dinner?

Sandwiches, Severus decided after a quick look in the kitchen. He had never been much for cooking and preferred to leave that task to the house elves, seeing as they were so very happy to oblige which in return left Severus with more free time to spend however he wished. So sandwiches it was.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry objected when Severus called him into the kitchen for dinner.

“Eat some anyway,” Severus ordered.

“I don’t want any! I want gramps to come back!”

Bracing himself against the irritation Severus took a deep breath. The boy was just a boy; worried for a loved one and taking it out in the only way he knew how. Which did not make it less annoying for Severus to be the target for the boy’s temper.

“Your grandfather is going to be alright,” Severus assured the boy, though he himself was not quite convinced. “The doctors will take well care of him.”

“Promise?”

Big, green eyes glistening with tears looked up at him and suddenly the annoyance Severus felt disappeared almost completely.

“I promise. Now eat some. Your grandfather would not want you to go hungry.”

Surprisingly, the boy did as he had been told.

Severus forced himself to eat some too. He was worried about the older man but nothing good would come out of him skipping meals.

Soon after dinner Severus decided it was bedtime for Harry. The boy was yawning and had, as Joseph had stated earlier, had an adventurous day.

“Will you tell me a bedtime story?” Harry asked, when Severus ordered him to get ready for bed.

“A bedtime story?” Severus repeated, taken aback by the request.

“Yeah. To help me sleep? Please?”

“I don’t think I know any bedtime stories.”

“It’s easy. Please?”

With a sigh, Severus gave in. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying went.

So the boy got ready for bed, thankfully without needing any assistance from Severus, and then looked expectantly at Severus, waiting for his bedtime story.

“What do you want to hear about?” Severus wondered, awkwardly sitting down at the side of the boy’s bed.

“I don’t know. Something. Why don’t you tell me about Hogwarts?”

“I told you about Hogwarts earlier today.”

“Then tell me something else.”

What to tell? Severus knew many things but suddenly few of those appeared to be suitable bedtime stories. After all, a bedtime story about the forbidden forest and all the creatures that lived within it was not likely to put the boy to sleep anytime soon.

“Well … Hogwarts was founded by two wizards and two witches,” Severus began, hoping that he had chosen a suitable subject for a bedtime story. “Their names were Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. They wanted to create the world’s best magic school. One night, Rowena Ravenclaw had a dream wherein a warty hog led her to a cliff by a lake somewhere in Scotland. She chose that spot to build the school and they called it Hogwarts, after the warty hog in her dream.”

As Severus spoke the boy relaxed back into his pillows, watching Severus intently as he spoke. Since no objections to his choice of story was forthcoming Severus chose to take that as something good and continued on, a little more confident.

“Each of the four founders wanted different qualities in their students …” he continued, telling of the four houses at Hogwarts and their qualities.

Before he had reached Salazar Slytherin and his break with the other founders the boy was asleep. With a small, satisfied smile Severus adjusted the boy’s covers and quietly left the room.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP                    

It was not so much an agreement as an unspoken need for the both of them to visit the hospital the next day; both of them tormented by worry. They arrived at the hospital by bus just before lunch, both anxious to see how Joseph was doing and eagerly finding their way through the crowded hospital. Once they had reached the right department Severus stopped one of the busy looking nurses.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Joseph Evans’ room. He came in yesterday by ambulance,” he said.

“That’ll be just down the hall, fourth door to the left,” she directed, gesturing with her hand and forcing a police smile at Severus.

“Thank you.”

Harry ran ahead as soon as the nurse had told them which room it was, Severus quickly following behind.

“Gramps!”  

A joyous cry came. Severus entered the room just in time to see the boy throwing himself at his grandfather. Joseph seemed almost as happy as Harry, albeit tired and still looking pale.

“Harry!”

“I’m so glad you aren’t dead gramps!”

“I won’t die this easily. Wild horses couldn’t take me from you!”

They hugged and Severus stood back a little, awkward and yet relieved to see that the man was apparently doing alright. Although he had tried not to show it, considering how emotional Harry had gotten yesterday, Severus had really worried. Finding out that Daisy was dead had been enough of a shock. With Lily already dead Joseph was the only remaining person that Severus remembered from his childhood with fondness.

“How have you been? Not causing Severus too much trouble, I hope?”

“Nu-uh,” the boy replied, shaking his head.

“Really? Severus?”

Startled a little at suddenly being pulled into the conversation it took Severus a moment to answer.

“He’s been behaving decently.”

“Decently, huh? That doesn’t sound very good.”

“But I have been good gramps! I promise!”

“Good, good. We wouldn’t like to scare him away, now would we?”

“Nope! He told me a bedtime story last night. About Hogwarts.”

“I’m glad that the two of you are getting along.”

Afraid that the two would once again return to hugging each other Severus decided that it was time he asked the question they had come to get answered.

“How are you?” he asked, looking pointedly at Joseph.

“I’m hanging in there,” Joseph replied, looking serious. “They say it’s my heart. I’m scheduled for …” he glanced at Harry, “S-U-R-G-E-R-Y tomorrow, and they’ll want to keep me for at least another couple of days after that, for observation.”  

“What’s S-U-R … What you said?” the boy wondered, looking questioningly between the adults.

“It’s a treatment Harry. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you won’t get to go home with us?”

“Not today. The doctors need some more time to make me better.”

The boy did not look happy at that and pouted unhappily, snuggling closer to his grandfather.

Meanwhile Severus was busy pondering the seriousness of the situation. He had known, of course, that muggle doctors were more limited with regards to treatment of their patients, but hearing that Joseph were to go under the knife in less than a day made it that much more tangible. At the same time, if the muggles had decided to operate on him then it must indeed be something serious. Severus supposed that he should at least be grateful that he had been there and made sure the man got to the hospital or surely Joseph would have ignored the signs until it might have been too late.

“Would you mind watching Harry for another couple of days, Severus?” Joseph suddenly asked, focusing his gaze on Severus again.

“I’m not sure I’m the most suitable …”

“You’ll do fine Severus. Unless you’re too busy?”

“I’m not too busy,” Severus admitted. “It’s just that …”

“You’re worried you’ll do something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry, Severus. It’s easy enough, and Harry will be on his best behaviour. Right, Harry?”

“I’ll be good. Promise. Please, Mr. Snape?”

As the two pairs of green eyes looked at him Severus found himself giving in to their wishes. Again.

“Of course, if you can’t then I’ll just have to call someone else,” Joseph said. “Maybe Mrs. Baird down the street?”

“No, she’s awful!” Harry objected immediately. “She only cares about her roses!”

“For a few days then,” Severus agreed with a sigh.

“Great! I’ll repay you, of course.”

As they worked out the details Severus wondered, not for the first time since his run in with Harry, what he had gotten himself into. There was no way this was a good idea. 

Chapter End Notes:
I do hope Severus is not too ooc in this chapter. I've tried to keep the grumpyness we all love yet with a side of him being more human and loving.

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