It was the last day of August. Severus had the day off of work, and it was unusually hot out. Harry had been draped over the couch all day, disinclined to move. The air was heavy, and the very act of disturbing it with movement seemed to be taboo. Severus himself had done little other than rise from his armchair to refill his water glass. He was reading one of the many scientific studies that had been left behind by the late owners of the cabin. Yvainne’s husband Josh had been a marine biologist who came to the village to study the life cycles of various fish in the waters nearby.

There was a knock on the door, and both Severus and Harry glanced up disinterestedly. Harry forced himself to his feet after a moment’s hesitation and walked over to the door. Severus continued reading until he recognized the voices at the door as Amy Duncan and her nephew, Callum.

“Hello, Samuel,” Amy said from the doorway.

Severus reluctantly set aside the article he was reading and stood. “Amy, what a pleasant surprise.”

Harry shot him a look, as if to say, “ha, yeah right,” but the truth was, Severus didn’t mind Amy all that much. They’d had several interesting conversations since he and Harry arrived in the village, and she reminded him of a blend of Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonagall.

“Hey, Callum,” Harry said.

“Hey, Henry.”

The four of them moved to the kitchen. There were only three chairs, so Severus leaned against the counter while the other three sat down. Harry hesitated and glanced at him, but with a jerk of his chin, Severus indicated that he should sit too. Then he began pouring water for the visitors, who started chatting mildly with Harry. Conversation, like movement, was slow that day. Everyone seemed content to just sit, only bothering to speak every once in a while when a stray thought came to mind.

Since it was just as hot inside as outside, Severus opened the window to allow any stray breezes in. It was a vague hope, as it seemed just as stale out in the street as it did within the cottage, but there was always a chance.

“Are you gonna go to school with me next week?” Callum asked Harry. The children in the village were too few for a school of their own, so they traveled by speedboat to an island close by every day to and from school.

“No,” Severus cut in smoothly. “I’ll be homeschooling him.”

“Really?” Callum asked, surprised, but only managing to sit up slightly straighter.

“My dad’s a teacher,” Harry explained. Severus was proud of how quickly the teen slipped into his role whenever other people were around.

Amy, to whom Severus had already told this, nodded. “No point in paying for the boat fare if you can teach him at home.”

“I guess,” Callum sighed, and Severus supposed that the boy had been looking forward to having another friend at school. It made him glad, seeing that Harry had found someone his own age in the village.

“How do you get electricity in the winter, when the stream freezes over?” Harry asked after a while. The change in topic didn’t seem to bother anyone.

“The millwheel keeps the water churning, and breaks up thin sheets of ice, so it works when it’s still snowing and all. Sometimes, though, when it gets too cold, the stream completely freezes and the wheel gets stuck. Then there isn’t any electricity, unless you have a generator.”

“Huh,” Harry said. “It must get cold indoors.”

“That’s what fireplaces are for,” Severus said wryly. Most wizards lived without heating, Hogwarts castle included.

“I’d take a snowfall right about now,” Callum sighed, dropping his head onto his arm, which was laid across the table. Amy nudged him and he sat up again. 

“I can’t disagree,” Harry said. 

“Aunt Amy?” Callum asked, with the look of someone who had just had a good idea, “Can me and Henry go swimming?”

“If he wants to,” Amy said. “And if Mr. Paine agrees.”

“Sure,” Harry nodded, not able to muster the energy to be excited, but seeming to be okay with the idea.

Seeing this, Severus nodded. “Alright with me.”

“I’ll grab my trunks,” Callum said, standing up.

“I don’t have any,” Harry remembered, blinking.

“That’s alright, you can just wear shorts.”

The blond teen wandered out of the cottage, and Amy shook her head. “Always on the move, that one. Not even this heat can slow him down for long.”

“I’ve known other people like that,” Harry said with a small smile, likely thinking of Ron or Fred and George Weasley. He rose to put his empty glass in the sink. Just as he was passing by Severus, however, he let out a gasp of pain and the glass slipped through his fingers to shatter against the floor as he clutched his scar.

And just like that, the lazy quality of the day’s heat was a distant memory. The Dark Lord had taken a knife and slashed it through the sluggish air, cutting open a gap of tension and pain that Harry (and, tangentially, Severus) had fallen right into.

He didn’t collapse to the ground this time, but Severus reached out to steady him just in case.

“He’s so angry,” Harry whispered, so quietly that Severus himself barely caught it, and he doubted Amy heard a word. “I’m okay,” he said louder, glancing towards the very concerned woman at their kitchen table.

“Sit down,” Severus urged, pushing him into a chair. He felt the teen’s forehead with the back of his hand, but he wasn’t feverish.

“Are you alright, dear?” Amy asked, brow creased with worry.

“Yeah,” Harry grimaced, rubbing his forehead. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure you want to go swimming?” Severus asked, seeing Callum approach through the window.

The teen nodded and sat up, trying to act like nothing had happened when his friend entered.

“We can go down to the shore. There’s a spot on the beach where no one keeps  their boats,” Callum said, unaware of the anxiety still radiating off of the two adults.

“Cool,” Harry said. He’d apparently decided that the shorts he already had on were good enough for swimming, and Severus had no objection, so he let them leave. He and Amy followed at a slower pace, conversing quietly. He was glad that the woman didn’t want to stay inside and chat, because he wanted to keep an eye on Harry after what had just happened.

He didn’t know when he’d begun thinking of the teen as Harry, but it had seemed like a natural thing to do. “Potter” no longer seemed to fit. “Potter” was the boy’s father; and the more he was learning about how different Harry was from James, the less the name seemed to fit. So he called him Harry instead, and the boy seemed not to mind. In fact, the teen seemed pleased with the change, although Severus couldn’t think why.

They ended up waiting in the shadow provided by a store front near the water’s edge. The two boys seemed to know they were there, and Harry waved to him once briefly.

“That wasn’t the first time that has happened, was it?” Amy asked quietly.

“No,” Severus replied slowly, wondering what he should say.

“Henry is quiet, but polite. He seems sad sometimes, when he thinks no one is watching.”

Severus, who had noticed all of this before, nodded. “He’s been having migraines ever since…” Casting about for an excuse, he waffled, “Well, that’s why we were on that boat.”

Amy took it as dramatic effect. “What happened?”

An idea came to him, along with a stab of pain. “The boy’s mother. She died.” Severus didn’t have to fake the emotion this time. He allowed his head to bow and the ever-present grief to thicken his voice. “Someone killed her, and Henry witnessed it.” It was true, even if Harry’s current melancholy was about Cedric Diggory’s death.

Amy’s hand flew to her mouth. “How awful.”

“Yes.” Severus glanced out over the ocean, watching Harry splash Callum with a laugh. “Some days are better than others.”

They watched the teens swim around the shallows in silence for a while, until Amy spoke up. “You are a teacher. Do you not have a job somewhere? A home? Not that we don’t enjoy having you and Henry here, but shouldn't you go back to your lives?”

Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the store. “There’s too many bad memories for us there. I had just quit my job in Essex and gotten my security deposit back on our apartment, and we were not so much going anywhere as running away.” If only Amy knew how true that was. “I didn’t expect to land somewhere and find that I actually liked living there.” He said this with a half-smile, which Amy returned.

“Then perhaps the sea knew you needed a place like here,” Amy said.

“Perhaps so,” Severus said.

The teens eventually decided they were done swimming. Tired, soaked, and with large smiles, they trudged back up the beach to where Severus and Amy waited with towels. They parted ways there, Callum and Amy going one way and Harry and Severus returning home.

“Did you have another scar pain?” he asked Harry, who pulled the towel tighter around himself at the mention of it.

“No. Just the one.”

“You said he was angry?”

“Yeah. Really angry. I started meditating and pushing thoughts away as soon as I felt it, but I don’t know if it worked or if that was all there was to feel.”

Severus, seeing the slightly lost look on his face, wrapped an arm around his shoulders. (Skinny! Too skinny. That must be another one of the Dursleys' many sins.) He told himself that it was just part of the act, as they were still in public; and, when Harry glanced up at him gratefully and walked a little closer to him, he told himself that that, too, was just an act.

They reached the cottage, and Severus made Harry wipe his feet free of sand before going inside. As soon as he entered, Severus heard a frantic buzzing attuned only to magical ears. Harry, entering moments later, looked up at him. “What is that?”

“The Headmaster’s parchment,” he said, striding over to his nightstand. He hadn’t written in it since that night he’d asked about Harry’s childhood, and Dumbledore hadn’t pushed for an answer. He unfurled the scroll and felt a cold chill of horror sweep through him.

“What is it?” Harry asked, hovering at the edge of the privacy screen, clearly unsure if he should enter Severus’ small domain.

“The Dark Lord became frustrated at being unable to find you. Today, he attacked the Burrow.”

Harry stumbled backwards a few steps. “Is anyone…”

Severus glanced back down at the parchment. “No one died, but Molly Weasley was injured.” He rolled it up again, not wanting to look at the words anymore. “And the house burned down.”