Over the ensuing months, a comforting rhythm of life emerged for Harry and Severus. Every dawn, Severus would rouse Harry from his sleep with a gentle nudge, their mornings softly punctuated by the chirping of birds outside the gothic windows of the Manor. Together, they would prepare for the day, their routine enhanced by the deepening bond between them.
Each day, they would descend the winding staircase, the cool stone steps whispering beneath their feet. As they stepped into the kitchen, a room awash with the warm glow of morning sunlight, Harry would eagerly assist Severus in the daily ritual of breakfast preparation. The boy's eyes would twinkle with joy as he cracked eggs or stirred the bubbling porridge, filling the air with the tantalizing scent of their imminent meal.
Upon the completion of their breakfast, after swallowing the potions that Severus carefully measured out, they would indulge in their meal, their shared silence filled with a sense of contentment. No sooner had they finished than Maya, their devoted house-elf, would pop in, her small form dutifully cleaning up the remnants of their feast.
Next, they would retreat to the ornate drawing room, engrossing themselves in books or engrossed in a thrilling game of wizard's chess until the clock chimed ten. With the arrival of Pamela, Harry's tutor, Severus would depart for his potions lab, his time spent engrossed in the delicate art of potion brewing. Meanwhile, Pamela and Harry would delve into their studies, a few focused hours passing swiftly until lunch.
As lunchtime arrived, they'd enjoy a lavish meal prepared by Maya, the hearty stews and sandwiches reviving their energy for the afternoon's tasks. Post-lunch, Harry and Severus would embark on their journey to the greenhouses, the verdant kingdom of plants that Severus had curated for Harry. The boy's dedicated corner was replete with blossoming flowers and magical plants, their vibrant colors and unique properties enthralling Harry. It was an oasis where Harry could nurture life, simultaneously learning responsibility and savoring the fruits of his labor.
After a few hours tending the greenhouse, their hands stained with earth, Don would whisk Harry away. Together, they would engage in sessions of physical therapy, exercises hidden within games aimed at rebuilding Harry's strength and restoring his full range of motion. Simultaneously, they would discuss Harry's past and his emotional well-being, addressing any lingering ghosts from his time with the Dursleys and the fake Diaz's.
Dinner would follow soon after, an extravagant spread prepared by Maya. Afterwards, they would retreat upstairs, where Severus would read to Harry from his storybook until sleep was heavy in the boy's eyes. Then, Severus would leave the room momentarily, affording Harry privacy to change before returning to tuck him into bed, their goodnights whispered in the dim candlelight.
The initial nights had been plagued with nightmares. To quell them, Severus resumed occluding Harry's mind, with Don's approval. While the method wasn't entirely foolproof, it lessened the frequency of Harry's night terrors, a reprieve for them all. Within a week, Harry started sleeping independently, a promising sign of his growing comfort and independence.
On good days, their routine followed this rhythm, a symphony of shared activities, laughter, and learning. However, bad days were not uncommon, days where Harry ended up sobbing in Severus's arms, his tears wetting the elder's robes while his kitten attempting to soothe him from his lap. The triggers varied - a harrowing flashback, an unfounded fear of a mistake made, or simply a day when fatigue overpowered resilience.
These were the days that Severus dreaded the most. It pained him to see his child in such a state. Harry looked so small and vulnerable during those times, and it broke Severus's heart each time.
As Severus sat in his armchair this particular morning, the morning of October 31st, he harbored a desperate hope that it would be a good day for Harry. Yet, an underlying sense of dread gnawed at him. As Harry sluggishly awakened, needing multiple encouragements from Severus, the foreboding became more palpable. Severus's heart sank further as he perceived Harry's melancholic mood. Today, it seemed, would test them both.
A wave of sadness flickered in his eyes as he moved around, his body dragging as if burdened by some invisible weight. His petite kitten, alert and empathetic, shadowed him faithfully, following him to every corner of the house that morning - even to the bathroom.
Though Harry was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, he was determined to hide his turmoil. The kitten seemed to intuit this, keeping a vigilant watch over him.
Severus and the kitten had established a silent understanding for times like these. The kitten was Harry's constant companion whenever Severus was absent, ready to alert him if the boy's mood worsened.
After completing his morning routine and dressing, Harry retreated back to the safety of his room. He collapsed onto the bed, the force making the mattress bounce slightly. His loyal kitten was right on his heels, leaping up onto his lap. She nudged her head against his hand, coaxing him into caressing her silky fur.
Just then, Severus appeared in the doorway, his knock breaking the room's silence. Ordinarily, Harry would have gone downstairs to help with breakfast after getting dressed, but not today. Concerned, Severus decided to check on him.
As Harry looked up at Severus, a ghost of a smile played on his lips, yet his eyes remained devoid of any joy. "Hi, daddy," he managed to utter.
Severus approached the bed, sitting down next to Harry. His gaze was filled with worry. "Are you feeling okay, child? You look a little pale."
Harry merely nodded, his attention returning to the kitten purring soothingly in his lap. Severus let out a sigh, gently placing a hand on Harry's forehead, assessing him for a fever. Finding none, he offered Harry a small, comforting smile.
"There's no fever. Is something bothering you?" Severus asked gently as he reached up to run a gentle hand through Harry's hair.
In response, Harry lifted the kitten from his lap, then flung himself towards the head of the bed. He clutched the pillows fiercely to his chest as a gut-wrenching sob escaped from him, causing his back to convulse.
Without hesitation, Severus scooted closer to the distraught boy, placing a comforting hand on his trembling back. "Hey now, everything's okay."
Despite Severus' soothing words, tears continued their steady flow down Harry's cheeks. His head remained buried in the soft pillow, his slender body shaking with the intensity of his sobs. Undeterred, Severus maintained his gentle, rhythmic strokes on Harry's back until he decided it was time for a more comforting approach. Gently gathering Harry into his arms, he held him close, providing a safe haven for the boy who clung desperately to his robes, his tear-streaked face pressed into the soft fabric.
Ensuring Harry was securely tucked against his chest, Severus resettled himself, anticipating the long duration he would likely spend in his current position. From time to time, he would murmur reassuring words into Harry's ear while his hand drew soothing circles on the boy's back.
Their shared silence filled the room, punctuated only by Harry's gradually subsiding sobs and the occasional soft creaking of the bed whenever one of them shifted. Once Harry's tears had receded to intermittent hiccups, Severus resumed his gentle rubbing on his back.
"Would you like to share what's bothering you?" Severus asked softly, a sincere attempt to coax out the source of Harry's current distress. His voice, laced with understanding and patience, echoed gently within the confines of their dimly lit room, a sanctuary from the world outside.
Harry's response was a quiet mumble, but Severus' keen ears caught the words. "Today's the day...that...that..."
Comprehension dawned on Severus. He understood the significance of this date, understood why Harry was so upset. He pulled Harry even closer.
"Shhhh, I know, Harry, I know," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room. "It's okay to be upset. You can cry as much as you want."
Harry indeed did. He let out sobs so profound and heart-wrenching that it pierced through Severus's heart. It was the sound of a young boy mourning for the parents he barely got to know. Today marked the eleven-year anniversary of the day that Harry became an orphan.
Time seemed to stretch as Harry's sobs continued unabated. Concerned that Harry might exhaust himself to the point of sickness, Severus summoned a calming potion, which he tenderly administered to the boy. As the potion took effect, Harry's grip on Severus slackened, and he turned his face away from his father's robes to gaze blankly at the room.
"Feel better now?" Severus asked, his hand gently caressing the boy's tear-stained cheek.
A faint nod came as a response. "I'm sorry."
Severus quickly shook his head, "Don't apologize for being sad, Harry. You lost two people who you loved before you really got a chance to know them. It's only natural that you feel sad."
Harry drew a deep breath, his gaze flickering uncertainly before he whispered, "Can... can we go see their... graves?"
Severus nodded, adjusting Harry in his arms for added comfort. "Yes, whenever you want. And remember, this applies for the future too. Whenever you wish to visit them, just let me know."
Harry buried his face back into Severus's robes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can... can we go tonight?"
"Yes, we can. Would you like to visit their home as well?" Severus knew that this journey would be tough for both of them. However, he recalled how visiting Lily's grave had provided him some sense of closure, and he hoped it would do the same for Harry.
Severus considered inviting Albus or Don for the visit but decided against it. This was something he needed to do alone with his son. Harry needed the comfort of familiar arms to lean on, not a crowd.
With a final nod into Severus's shoulder, Harry gave his assent. Gently, Severus brought a hand up, lightly resting it on the back of Harry's head, stroking his hair soothingly. A sigh of relief escaped Harry as he relaxed under his father's gentle touch, the cathartic release of tears having eased his emotional burden.
Feeling his father's fingers trace comforting circles on his back and run through his hair always gave Harry a sense of relief. It was a reminder that he was loved and that his feelings were valid.
They sat in that comforting silence for a while until Maya, their house-elf, popped into the room. She pointed towards the table in Harry's playroom, indicating that she had left breakfast for them. Over the last few months, she too had learned to read Harry's moods and knew just how to act around him. Severus nodded in appreciation; he was grateful for her understanding during such times.
Gently, he eased Harry back, conjuring a warm washcloth to clean his tear-streaked face. "Are you hungry, Harry?"
Harry responded with a small nod, allowing Severus to gently wipe his face clean. While a part of him felt too old for such treatment, he didn't want it to stop either. He viewed these instances of affection as reparations for the tenderness he missed out on as a child.
Once he had cleaned Harry up, Severus banished the washcloth and helped the boy to his feet. He stood up too, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder, only to feel the boy flinch under his touch.
A sigh escaped Severus as he momentarily closed his eyes. The sight of Harry flinching tugged at his heartstrings. Despite the significant progress made over the past few months, the boy's reactions indicated the wounds were still fresh, more so due to the emotional turmoil of the day.
Reopening his eyes, Severus gifted Harry a warm smile, guiding him gently towards the adjoining room where breakfast awaited. The cool, stone walls of their home seemed to hum with warmth and tranquility, offering a safe haven for Harry.
Entering the room, Harry's eyes widened in astonishment at the elaborate breakfast spread. An amused huff slipped past Severus's lips. Their house-elf Maya indeed had a penchant for indulging them. The nutritious meals she prepared had contributed to Harry gaining a healthy weight for his age, even allowing them to slowly wean him off the nutrition potion.
With a reassuring pat on Harry's shoulder, Severus gently nudged him towards the table. "Go on and take a seat, Harry."
Obediently, Harry chose a chair, his eyes still round with wonder. As Severus served him a generous portion, he couldn't help but notice the tentative way Harry was looking at the food. Yet, Severus knew this over-abundance would encourage Harry to eat as much as he could.
"As always, eat as much as you can, Harry," Severus gently reminded him.
Taking his cue, Harry picked up his fork and dove into the meal, his appetite taking over. Across the table, Severus's smile warmed as he began his own breakfast.
Once they were done, the dishes disappeared magically, prompting another eye-roll from Severus. "I swear that house-elf lives to spoil us."
Harry's response was a smile, his first of the morning. His heart was still raw, but the comfort of familiar surroundings and the delicious meal had soothed him somewhat.
Noticing Harry's mind drifting, Severus reached over, patting Harry's hand to bring him back to the present. "Harry?"
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and focused on his father. Severus patted his hand again, this time as a gesture of reassurance. "Would you like to head out now or later, Harry? Don and Pamela have given you the day off, considering it's Halloween."
His gaze dropped to his pet kitten, Arwen, who sat sternly by his feet. "You could have given me a warning you were going to throw me. Before you protest, I am coming with you," she seemed to chastise him.
"Sorry, Arwen, I didn't mean to throw you," Harry apologized sheepishly.
"Silly human," Arwen's purring showed her forgiveness as she jumped onto Harry's lap.
Gazing at the fluffy creature, Harry turned his attention back to his father. "Can we go now? Arwen says that she won't let me leave without her."
Severus raised an eyebrow at the kitten, who looked back defiantly. A chuckle escaped him, "Did she now? Then I guess she will have to accompany us. Why don't you get ready, and we'll meet downstairs in half an hour?"
With a small nod, Harry allowed Arwen to leap from his lap and then retreated to his room to change. Severus followed him and left the room, closing the door softly behind him to give Harry some privacy.
Twenty minutes later, Harry descended the stairs shyly, Arwen trailing behind. Spotting him, Severus couldn't help but smile at the sight, moving towards the bottom of the stairs to welcome them.
Bending slightly, Severus placed a reassuring hand on Harry's slender shoulder. "I've just spoken to Albus via the Floo Network. I informed him of our plans and he requested if we could leave some flowers on his behalf. Is that alright, Harry?"
In response, Harry gave a small, hesitant nod.
"Alright then. Are you ready to depart?" Severus asked, his voice as smooth as silk, providing a sense of calm.
Again, Harry nodded. This time, he revealed something Severus hadn't seen before—a stuffed animal shaped like a male deer. It was a gift from Severus a few weeks ago.
"Would you like to leave that for them as well?" Severus asked, his curiosity piqued by the boy's action.
Looking down, Harry nodded again. "Is...is that alright?"
A genuine smile lit Severus's stern face. His hand squeezed Harry's shoulder comfortingly. "It's more than alright, Harry. We'll stop by the florist first and pick up some lilies and roses to leave as well."
"Thank you, Daddy."
Straightening up, Severus shook his head. "No need to thank me, Harry. Now, why don't you go put on your jacket? I'll join you in a moment."
Releasing his hold on the boy's shoulder, Severus watched as Harry scampered off to do as instructed. Noticing the boy putting on his shoes and jacket, Severus ascended the stairs to retrieve something he'd held onto for years, an artifact he now realized it was time to let go.
After securing it safely in his pocket, Severus descended the stairs, meeting Harry by the front door. He quickly donned his own coat and shoes, joining Harry by the entrance.
Hugging the stuffed toy to his chest, Harry looked up at Severus, who returned the gaze with a gentle smile. "Let's go. Is there anywhere else you'd like to visit while we're out?"
Harry shook his head. On his better days, they sometimes made trips to the local park or library in the late afternoon, but they rarely ventured elsewhere. The boy had developed a discomfort around strangers in close quarters, a fear Severus silently cursed the Death Eaters for instilling. They had been working on Harry being around more people, but it was a slow journey.
Nodding in understanding, Severus placed a protective hand on Harry's shoulder and opened the front door. He carefully guided Harry outside and closed the door behind them. Together, they began their journey down the street, heading towards the place Harry had called home when he was a baby.
Until now, Severus had refrained from taking this route, unsure if Harry was ready to face the memories of his parents' home. However, today Harry had requested to visit, and Severus was determined to fulfill that promise.
On reaching the dilapidated house, Severus gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "This was their home, Harry."
Mesmerized by the sight, Harry moved closer to the house, his kitten and Severus trailing behind him. His eyes remained fixed on the rundown home, almost as if in a trance.
Concerned, Severus reached out, placing a comforting hand on Harry's back. "Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry, still entranced, continued to approach the door.
"Harry?" Severus called out.
The slight elevation in Severus's voice startled Harry out of his reverie, making him turn back to face the man.
"Harry, are you alright?" Severus asked, worry etched on his face.
Harry gave a small nod, his green eyes brimming with uncertainty. "Yeah, I'm alright. Can...can we go inside?"
Severus was initially tempted to refuse, the potential dangers screaming at him from the recesses of his mind. Yet, he knew that this exploration could potentially bring some closure to the boy who'd lost so much.
"Yes, we can, Harry. But, we must follow a few rules. You must stay by my side at all times; the house has been vacant for quite some time. And, you have to watch your step and be extremely cautious."
Harry nodded, his relief evident. The looming structure was indeed intimidating, and he would much rather remain by his father's side anyway.
Seeing the boy's nod of agreement, Severus returned the gesture and started to guide Harry forward. The last time he was here was still fresh in his mind, a ghost from his past he'd tried his best to avoid.
As they reached the door, Severus noticed the kitten trailing behind them. He stooped to pick her up, placing her in Harry's awaiting arms. She then climbed up to sit on Harry's shoulder.
"It's safer for her off the ground. We don't want her to fall through any loose boards or get lost," Severus explained.
Reaching up, Harry scratched Arwen's ears and nodded. "Are you alright up there, Arwen?"
In reply, the kitten let out a small mew, purring wildly as she affectionately nuzzled against his neck.
Chuckling at the kitten's antics, Harry once again reached up to scratch her ears. "I'll take that as a yes."
Severus couldn't help but appreciate Albus's foresight in gifting Harry the kitten. Her presence seemed to provide Harry with a sense of comfort, even in daunting situations such as this.
With that thought in mind, Severus unlocked the door with the key Albus had provided, anticipating Harry might wish to enter his childhood home. It took a few solid kicks to force the swollen door open, but eventually, they managed to step inside.
Glancing around, Severus noted that the only significant change since that fateful night was the relentless march of time. The once plush couches lay strewn about, and the kitchen looked as though it had weathered a storm. Baby bottles still lay scattered across the floor.
Harry walked over to the kitchen and carefully picked up a bottle, cradling it in one hand. "This was mine."
Taking a steadying breath, Severus nodded. "It was. Would you like to take it home?"
It may seem strange to others, salvaging something from a home that once harbored happiness, especially something as insignificant as a baby bottle. But Severus understood. It was a piece of Harry's past that he had no memory of, a tangible reminder of a time before the scars and pain. It was akin to parents preserving mementos of their children's younger years.
Harry gave a small nod in affirmation, so Severus extended his hand to take the bottle. There was a moment of hesitation before Harry handed it over, but once Severus had shrunk it down to a pocket-friendly size, he handed it back.
"Keep it in your pocket. It's easier to carry that way."
A small smile crept onto Harry's face as he nodded in agreement. He was grateful for his father's understanding, knowing many others might have scoffed at his sentimental attachment.
Progressing to the sitting room, they discovered a similar scene of upturned chairs, torn drapes, and signs of a significant incident. Each room held its own secrets, whispered through the echoes of the past, as Harry and Severus journeyed deeper into the house.
Harry's gaze was drawn to an anomaly amongst the dust-covered ruins of the room. With Severus trailing closely behind, he carefully picked his way through the debris towards an overturned table. Even under layers of dust, a glimmer of silver caught his attention. Carefully, he brushed away the grime to reveal an old picture frame.
Within the frame was a magical photo of a happy family scene: a toddler, presumably Harry himself, taking his first tentative steps into his mother's waiting arms. Behind her was a man with a kind smile, mousy brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a face marred by scars.
Harry was spellbound by the image, his heart constricting with an unexpected surge of emotion. He had not anticipated finding something so precious in this place. A sudden lump in his throat threatened to spill over, but he swallowed it down, pressing the frame to his chest. He had made a promise to himself - no more tears today.
Perceptive as always, Severus detected the shift in the boy's demeanor. The emotions Harry was feeling were practically painted across his face. Gently, he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What have you found?"
In response, Harry showed him the photo. The sight of the picture brought a warm smile to Severus' stern face. "Your mother told me about that day. She was incredibly proud of you taking your first steps. If you'd like, I can shrink it down for you."
Harry, however, seemed to have another question pressing on his mind. His eyes returned to the photo, to the figure standing behind his mother. "Do... do you know who that is behind my mum?"
Severus took a closer look, a slight grimace flashing across his features before he controlled his expression. It wouldn't do any good to let his personal feelings about the werewolf interfere with Harry's perspective. Especially since the man in question had been making sincere efforts to mend their relations in recent months.
"That's Remus Lupin, a close friend of your parents, and the one Albus and I mentioned might come to visit with your godfather."
"That's him?" Harry looked up at Severus curiously.
"Yes, Harry, that's him." He confirmed.
Harry's face scrunched up in concentration, "I... I kind of remember him... I mean, not really... but his laugh... he was always laughing."
A sad smile graced Severus' lips. He knew the reality - the man hadn't laughed genuinely in years. The memory of Lupin's laughter was probably a rare and precious thing, a remnant of the happier times before tragedy struck.
"Would you like to meet him?" He carefully asked Harry.
Harry looked up at Severus, considering his words. So far, he had resolutely refused any introduction to new people. Yet, the memory of a warm laugh and the faint connection he felt with the man in the photo made him consider. "Not now... but... but maybe in a while."
This hesitant agreement felt like a breakthrough to Severus, who embraced Harry in a reassuring hug. "I am so proud of you, Harry."
Harry looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. "Why?" He hadn't done anything remarkable, had he?
Severus simply smiled, bending down to plant a kiss on Harry's head. "Just for being you, Harry. I'm proud of you for being you."
Although he didn't fully comprehend his father's words, Harry decided to accept them with a nod. He handed over the photo, watching as it was carefully shrunken down, the whole world seemingly encapsulated within that tiny frame.
Harry's fingers tightened around Severus's hand as they began to ascend the dilapidated staircase. The climb was fraught with peril - some of the wooden boards were missing or rotten, but Severus' firm grip kept the boy steady.
Upon reaching the landing, they ventured into the first bedroom on the right. The room was untouched, save for the thick layer of dust that had accumulated over the years. It seemed to be a guest room, with no distinct marks of personal occupancy.
Finding nothing noteworthy in the guest room, Harry wandered back out into the corridor, advancing to the next door down the hall. The door protested with a rusty creak as it swung open, coming to a halt against the wall.
Inside was a scene of frozen chaos. The bed, once a centerpiece, was overturned, sheets strewn about haphazardly. A bedside table was tossed aside, its drawers wide open. Everything else in the room seemed untouched, creating an eerie stillness amid the wreckage.
As Severus followed Harry into the room, a wave of familiarity washed over him. This was Lily's room. The memories from 'that night' came flooding back, each one a dagger to his heart. He felt the cold metal of the locket in his pocket - a memento taken from this very room. Clutching the locket tightly, he drew a steadying breath. He could endure this, he had to – for Harry's sake.
While Severus was lost in his thoughts, Harry had inched closer to the bedside table. A cloud of dust rose as he brushed it off, making him cough. His perseverance paid off when he uncovered a dusty stuffed bear. A tag around its neck read, "To my dear Harry".
Severus, noticing Harry's discovery, stepped closer. "What did you find, Harry?"
Words eluded the young boy. All he could do was lift the bear slightly, a silent request for Severus to see. This house visit had already surpassed his expectations, revealing more about his past than he'd ever hoped.
"I remember that bear," Severus said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "The few times I saw you as a toddler, that bear was inseparable from you."
Harry glanced back at the bear, swallowing thickly. "Can...can..."
Before Harry could finish, Severus was already reassuring him. "Yes, Harry, you can take him home."
With Severus' help, Harry stood, gently passing the stuffed deer to Severus so that he could hold onto the bear. Severus accepted the deer, shrinking it and placing it safely into his pocket, alongside the locket.
"I'll keep it safe for you, Harry."
Nodding, Harry turned to leave the room. The heavy aura of the room had begun to suffocate him. He needed air, needed distance. This visit was starting to feel like a journey into a past that was both foreign and intimately personal, tugging at heartstrings he hadn't known existed. Severus understood, sharing in the boy's discomfort for reasons of his own. The memories this room harbored were painful for both of them, albeit in very different ways.
Emerging back into the hallway, Harry peeked into another room. Seeing it was merely a bathroom, he retreated and moved to the last door. As he pushed it open, a chill passed over him; the air was heavier here, imbued with a tangible sense of loss and grief.
Severus followed Harry into the room, his heart heavy. This was the room where it had all happened, where he had found her - where Lily had breathed her last. The sight of the toppled crib and the scar in the ceiling from the rebounded curse were frozen in his memory.
Spellbound, Harry approached the crib and knelt, pulling the decade-old blankets towards him. He ignored the dust billowing up, clinging to his clothes, as he clung to the blankets.
"Mummy," Harry murmured.
Severus shook himself out of his reverie, focusing on the present, on Harry. He come over, facing his child, before gently pulling him into an embrace.
"This...this is where...the green light...Mummy.." Harry stammered.
Fighting the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him, Severus tightened his hold on Harry, drawing the boy closer.
"I know, Harry, I know." Severus's voice was a soft whisper.
Harry buried his face into Severus's robes, letting his tears flow freely. The small kitten, now a comforting presence, nestled around Harry's neck, purring gently in a bid to provide comfort. Severus held on tightly, silently praying that this harrowing visit might bring some form of closure for Harry, aiding him towards healing.
With a gentle motion, Severus slowly sat down preparing to be there for a spell and guided Harry onto his lap, taking the dust-laden blankets from the boy's grasp. They sat there, on the cold floor of the hauntingly silent room, letting time slip by as Harry's cries gradually subsided to quiet hiccups. Severus knew better than to rush the grieving process; he would allow Harry to take his time.
Eventually, Harry pulled back, looking up at Severus with a teary smile. "I'm okay, Daddy," he whispered.
Severus returned the smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from Harry's face. "I know you are, Harry, and I want you to know that I love you very much."
"I love you too, Daddy...and...and thank you," Harry managed.
Severus leaned over, scratching the kitten's ear, his features softening. "You don't have to thank me for loving you, Harry. I will love you no matter what."
"No, thank you for saving me. You saved me. That night...and from the Dursleys."
Severus paused, his hand moving from the kitten to rest gently on Harry's cheek. "You remember me from that night?" He asked, the surprise evident in his voice.
Harry nodded minutely, his eyes closed as he absorbed the comfort Severus was providing. "You came...and held Mum...for a long time...then...then you came over and picked me up. Dumbledore came and you handed me to him...but you kept me safe till he came."
Overcome with emotion, a single tear escaped Severus's eye and trickled down his cheek. "I did," he affirmed quietly.
"Are you sad, Daddy?" Harry asked in a soft whisper.
With a determined swipe, Severus cleared the tear that had exposed his raw emotions. "I'm sad that there was ever a need to protect you, yes," he admitted softly.
Harry reached forward, wrapping his small arms around his father. "I'm okay, though, please don't be sad."
His heart warmed at his son's resiliency and compassion. One moment, Harry was consumed by grief, and the next, he was comforting Severus, at the slightest hint of sadness.
Easing back from the hug, Severus gave Harry a tender smile. "Harry, I'm alright. What do you say we head home? Maya is probably preparing lunch for us."
Harry hesitated before shaking his head. "Can...can we see their...graves before we go home? Please?"
Severus nodded, formulating a compromise. Harry had been eating well recently, but he didn't want the boy to skip a meal. "Why don't I ask Maya to pack some sandwiches for us? We can have a picnic in the park before visiting their graves."
Harry nodded his approval. "Okay."
"Maya!"
The house-elf appeared before them, her body bouncing with unrestrained excitement. "Yous want Maya to clean this house? Oh, thank you, Master Severus!"
Severus chuckled, shaking his head. An idea sparked in his mind – perhaps they could restore this house for Harry, should he ever want it. After all, it was his inheritance. "Not now, Maya. Could you prepare a picnic for us? We were planning to have lunch in the park."
Maya gave an exaggerated salute, her hand thumping her forehead. "Yes, Sir!"
Severus watched as the elf vanished, amusement dancing in his eyes. But when he looked down at Harry, his amusement softened to fondness. Even with tear-swollen eyes and a blotchy face, the boy wore the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
He moved to stand, offering a hand to Harry. Once both of them were upright, Severus dusted himself off, then turned his attention to Harry.
Drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he handed it to Harry. "Here you are, Harry."
Accepting the handkerchief, Harry diligently wiped away his tears and the dust that clung to his clothes.
Mid-cleaning, Maya popped back in, a basket swinging from her hand. "I has your lunch! Remember to take the potions in there too, and if you don't, I will know!"
She wagged her finger at Severus before turning to Harry with a beaming smile. "Now, you make sure to eat a good meal too, understand? Maya still has to put more weight on you!"
Harry nodded, looking chastened.
"Good. I'll be seeing you two at dinner tonight."
With a pop, she vanished, leaving Harry to look up at an amused Severus. He reached for his father's hand. "Can we go now?"
Severus returned his son's smile. "Yes, let's go have some lunch."
Within the confines of the Headmaster's office, the situation was less than tranquil. As Severus and Harry faced their daemons, Albus Dumbledore found himself confronting his own in a rather different fashion. The spectral reminders of past errors came back to plague him.
Sirius Black had been liberated from Azkaban, yet it seemed to be the sole silver lining that these last turbulent months had bestowed upon the man.
Reuniting with Remus Lupin had indeed been a blessing for the newly freed man, but the dark influence of the Dementors had left a profound imprint. So much so that Don, had enlisted a friend to monitor the fragile man for signs of suicide, a task too heavy for Remus to shoulder alone. This not only gave Sirius someone to confide in but also provided a sounding board for Remus, who found it emotionally draining to witness his friend's tormented state.
Gradually, Sirius began to regain his strength and spirit over the ensuing months. Nevertheless, Albus was all too aware that it would still be a considerable time before Sirius was fit to meet Harry.
When Sirius enquired about his godson, his interest was piqued. However, the news that Harry was staying with Severus Snape, who had even adopted the boy, was not well received. Not in the slightest.
The combined efforts of Remus, Albus, and Don's friend were required to prevent Sirius from embarking on a misguided 'rescue mission' to snatch Harry from the 'greasy git.' They unfortunately had to resort to sedate him.
Upon awakening, everyone attempted to reassure Sirius that Harry was in excellent care, and moreover, genuinely content with Severus. But their words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The progress made over the past month seemed to evaporate, as Sirius withdrew, ensnared in a deep depression.
Gradually, Sirius managed to claw his way out from his latest setback, but his opinion of Severus remained unaltered. At present, he was seated before Albus's desk, in the midst of a passionate rant.
"Sirius, Harry is genuinely happy living with Severus," Albus interjected calmly.
Incensed, Sirius rose, pacing the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back. "But how could he be happy with him!"
With a sharp exhale of frustration, Sirius clenched his fists at his sides, his dark eyes flashing with indignation. He stomped across the room, knocking over a precariously stacked pile of books in his wake. "That slimy git doesn't know the first thing about love!"
Ignoring the mess, Remus reached out to smooth down the ruffled edges of the parchment on the table, his gaze never leaving Sirius. "Sirius, you need to look past your preconceived notions of Severus. He has changed for the better, and Harry can see that. It's about time you did too."
With a swift pivot, Sirius turned to face Remus, his anger radiating off him like heat waves. His fists trembled at his sides, his voice escalating with every word. "I won't stand by and let that man steal my godson from me!"
Remus slowly turned to Albus, an imploring look in his eyes, silently begging him to step in. He slowly started to gather up the strewn-about books, preparing to once again argue his point, even if it was like talking to a brick wall.
Sirius paced the room restlessly, the lines of worry etched deeply into his face. "That man has no right to be anywhere near Harry. I don't care what any social worker says. I won't rest until he's out of the picture!"
Albus, with an air of authority that demanded respect, slowly rose from his chair, walking over to Sirius. He reached out, placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. "Sirius, you need to accept the truth. Harry and Severus have formed a bond that is undeniable. Your interference will only cause more harm than good."
Sirius shook off Albus's touch, throwing him a scornful glance before crossing his arms over his chest. "And what sort of Headmaster are you to let a child be raised by such a man?"
Albus stood his ground, his gaze steady on Sirius. His face was like an age-old statue, betraying no emotion, but his voice held an undercurrent of steel. "Harry is in a safe place, Sirius. I will not let your prejudices jeopardize that."
In the midst of the fervent argument, an idea sparked within Albus. He quickly recognized that rational debate had proved futile with Sirius in the past, but perhaps showing him the bond that Harry and Severus shared might be more impactful.
"Sirius, what if I were to show you Harry? Might that assuage your concerns?" Albus proposed, his voice softening to a conciliatory tone.
With a fervent nod, Sirius responded, "Yes, I'd like to see him. Please."
Albus gave a nod of acknowledgment, moving back behind his ornate desk. With precision, he pulled the pensieve into the open space, positioning it so all three men could gather around. He then touched his wand to his temple and drew out a silvery strand - his latest memory of Harry and Severus interacting. Carefully, he deposited it into the swirling surface of the pensieve and beckoned both men to lean forward.
Before they dived into the memory, Albus felt the need to clarify. "Remember," he cautioned, "Harry suffers from intense night terrors. Even with protective mental barriers, sometimes the memories seep through. No method is entirely foolproof."
In the memory, Albus and Severus were comfortably ensconced in armchairs, savoring their evening tea and discussing class plans when a chilling scream echoed from the upper floor.
Both men immediately recognized it as Harry's. It was a sound they unwillingly had grown accustomed to - the distress call of a nightmare.
Almost dropping his teacup, Severus rushed upstairs, his paternal instincts taking precedence over any observer. He moved with an urgency that demonstrated his indifference towards anyone following him, which Albus inevitably did.
Even though he trusted Severus to manage the situation, Albus was compelled to witness the scene personally to ensure they were both safe. However, once Severus burst into the room, Albus remained in the doorway, content to observe from a distance, not wanting to intrude upon the tender moments he knew were to follow.
Almost immediately, Severus swept forward, cradling Harry in his arms, enveloping him in the warmth of his robes. He woke the boy gently, his fingers soothingly threading through his unruly hair, whispering comforting words.
Upon waking, Harry's teary gaze met Severus', before he buried his face into his guardian's robes, his silent sobs dampening the fabric. With an instinctual tenderness, Severus hoisted the boy onto his lap, cradling him securely against his chest while rubbing his back soothingly.
Reassured that they were both alright, Albus gave a nod of acknowledgement to Severus, then turned to make his way back downstairs. He knew that after a while, Harry would be back under the warm covers, and Severus would seek company to debrief. These nightmares didn't only take a toll on Harry.
As the memory faded, all three men lifted their heads from the swirling pensieve. Stunned by the care Severus had shown for James' son, Sirius staggered backward, only to find a chair that Albus had conveniently positioned behind him.
Sirius sank into the seat, burying his face in his hands, drawing a deep, ragged breath. Remus approached him, a sorrowful smile on his face, and gently laid a hand on Sirius' back.
"See, Sirius, they really do love each other. Separating them would inflict far more harm on Harry than leaving them together."
"I...I...I've been such a fool. Harry...he looked so small. Is he alright?" Sirius stuttered, lifting his head to gaze into Albus's usually twinkling eyes, which now seemed devoid of their characteristic sparkle.
"There's a reason he was removed from the Dursleys," Albus said, his voice tight, "and I'll leave it at that. Severus has catered to all his needs, and Harry is almost back to perfect health."
Sirius looked down and nodded, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "I...I need to go home." His voice was barely a whisper, heavy with regret and newfound understanding.
In the aftermath of the intense memory exploration, Remus enveloped Sirius in a supportive embrace and helped him to his feet. These emotional fluctuations were nothing new for Sirius, but the intensity seemed to have heightened after his stint in Azkaban. His once sporadic emotions had now morphed into an almost unbearable whirlwind of extremes, akin to a relentless roller coaster from which he couldn't disembark.
"Come on, Sirius. Once we're home, I'll brew some tea, and we can talk this through," Remus offered gently, his voice carrying the undertones of his long-standing friendship with Sirius.
With a nod of acquiescence, Sirius allowed Remus to guide him towards the fireplace. As the green flames swallowed them and subsequently reverted to their natural orange hue, Albus was left alone in the silence of his office.
He reached into his desk, retrieving the documents he had been engrossed in before their unexpected visit. With a heavy sigh, he perused the paperwork related to his ongoing hunt for the Horcruxes. Despite the mounting challenges, he had made significant progress over the past month. The diary, the ring, and the locket - three of the six Horcruxes - had been destroyed.
However, their acquisition and subsequent destruction had been far from easy. Albus had come perilously close to meeting his end on multiple occasions, which was the primary reason he insisted on facing these dangerous tasks alone.
The Gaunt ring had been somewhat easy to locate. It was hidden in the dilapidated shack of the Gaunt family. After a myriad of unsuccessful attempts to destroy it, he had finally obliterated it with the sword of Gryffindor. The temptation to slip the ring on his finger had been a powerful adversary - a pull so strong that he doubted he could have resisted it had he possessed it any longer.
The locket, on the other hand, had been a stroke of pure luck. Kreacher, the Black family's house elf, had been burdened with the task of destroying it by his late master, but to no avail. Albus had fortuitously overheard the elf lamenting his unsuccessful attempts, and after much persuasion, he had convinced Kreacher to entrust him with the cursed object. As soon as he received the locket, he wasted no time in striking it with the sword, eradicating another piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
Recollecting his thoughts, Albus picked up his quill and prepared to plan for his next target - the artifact connected to Helga Hufflepuff, her legendary Cup. His hand hovered over the parchment, ready to ink the strategy to unchain yet another piece of Voldemort's immortality.
Memories