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“Will you stop that huffing this instant.”
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, his lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched down. A rather good impression of Severus’ own, he thought to himself with amusement as he watched the angry little boy in the infirmary bed. “I’m bored.”
“Too bad. What do you expect me to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Harry cast about the drab walls of the infirmary looking for something to occupy himself with. “Entertain me.”
“I’m not your clown, Potter. Why don’t you go to sleep and stop whinging like an infant?”
“Well it’s your fault I’m here. Sir.,” Harry added petulantly.
“You’re here because little boys who run off to the Quidditch pitch and start playing with brooms when they are explicitly told not to stray get to spend the night in the infirmary.”
Harry looked at least a little remorseful now at the stern tone, but no less annoyed. “I didn’t really fall though, I sort of...bounced. I’m not hurt! The doctor lady said I was fine.”
“Your accidental magic saved you Harry, and you worried everyone! I told you we were coming here so we can get things ready for my classes before term starts, and you were not to go exploring, or touch anything!”
“I didn’t mean to disobey you...but I saw one of the brooms and just--I flew! I really flew, Sir, just like you said brooms could do!”
“I know you were excited Harry, but you should have come and asked me about it. Or Madam Hooch, who luckily was there and saw you right away! Harry, do you have any idea how frightened I was you were hurt?”
“You were worried about me?” Harry asked, surprised.
Severus sighed. The boy had been in his care for only a few months now, and after discovering the full extent of his treatment at the hands of his abysmal relatives, it was a wonder he’d adapted to his new circumstances as well as he had. Severus never considered he’d be in charge of raising a little boy, let alone one so curious and reckless and clearly destined for Gryffindor...but he was Lily’s son. And over the past few months they had grown to be a family and...damn it, he cared about the little brat.
Severus moved closer to the bed a carded his fingers through the boy’s unruly hair. “Harry, of course I was worried about you. I’m responsible for you now and...you’ve grown on me,” he added gruffly.
Harry’s face broke out into a toothy grin. “You’ve grown on me too. So...when do I get to come to school here? Why can’t I start now?”
“You’ll attend Hogwarts when you’re eleven, Harry, and not before. You’ll live in my rooms with me during the school year, but you’ll be spending the days with Mrs. Weasley. Remember we met her yesterday? She’ll be teaching you at her home with her children. She has a son your age, I think you’ll be friends.”
“You think they’ll like me?” Harry said, suddenly nervous. He chewed his bottom lip. “I’ve never had a friend before.”
Severus tried not to react to that. He knew the feeling all too well, a lonely childhood and neglectful guardians, he’d met his very first friend when he was older than Harry was now. “Of course they’ll like you, Harry.” He stroked the boy’s hair again in a comforting gesture. He seriously needed to stop letting on how much he liked the little brat, but that sweet smile and Lily’s shining green eyes did him in everytime. “Now, you’re spending the night here for observation like Madam Pomfrey said, and you’ll be good and quiet while I finish up my lesson plans. Read some of your schoolbooks.” He passed over a worn copy of the Primary Student Schoolbook he knew the Weasley’s and most other wizarding families used in their at home education.
Harry flipped through it for a few minutes, but Severus felt the boy’s gaze continue shifting back to him.
Severus quirked an eyebrow. “What is it, Harry?”
“Will you miss me? When you’re working and I’m away all day?” His voice sounded very small, even for a seven year old, and Severus was dangerously close to losing any hope of maintaining the gruff dungeon bat persona. Hopefully no students ever saw him interact with Harry or his reputation would be ruined.
“Yes, Harry. I will miss you. But we will see each other in the evenings. And you will have so much fun with all your new friends you’ll forget all about me all day.”
“No, I won’t,” Harry said with confidence. “I mean, I hope I have fun and I really want a friend, but I won’t forget you!”
Severus smiled slightly. “Thank you, Harry. Now, were you going to let me work or not?”
“I’m still bored,” Harry said with a pout, and Severus was now entirely certain he knew exactly what he was doing with his eyes. Manipulative brat.
Severus put aside his stack of parchment with a sigh, resigning himself to finishing after the boy finally went to sleep. “And what do you suppose I do? Set off fireworks? Do a dance?”
“No,” Harry said with a giggle. “Will you tell me a story? Please?”
“Once upon a time there was a little boy who irritated his guardian so much, that he chopped him up and used him for potions ingredients. And the Potions Master finally got a decent night's sleep, and all was right with the world. The end.”
Harry was laughing in earnest now. “You’ve told me that one! No, read something real.”
Severus picked up the schoolbook off the bed, and began reading aloud. “An Educational Primer for Young Witches and Wizards of Magical Britain. Chapter One: A Brief History...”
“Not homework,” Harry said with a pout. “Read me a real story. Like you do at home.”
“What story do you want?”
“Do they have that blue book here? The...the beetle book? That you said were magic fairy tales?”
Severus tilted his head. He’d forgotten he’d mentioned that one. “The Tales of Beedle the Bard? Oh, I’m sure that’s here somewhere. Let me find it. Stay here, Harry.”
When Severus returned from the Hogwarts library several minutes later, book in tow, he realized Harry had very unsubtly moved to the very edge of the bed, leaving ample room beside him.
“Do you want me to sit next to you in the bed?” he asked, and Harry nodded shyly.
“Very well,” Severus said, and moved to arrange himself on the small infirmary bed. He was still a moment, unsure of what to do, when Harry snuggled under his arm. Severus pushed down the sudden warmth rising in his chest at the domesticity of the scene, that Severus was actually reading bedtime stories to a child. Will wonders never cease, he thought to himself, and realized he was smiling. He straightened his face and cleared his throat.
“This is a story my mother read to me. And I’m sure your parents read it to you. It’s called ‘The Tale of The Three Brothers.’”
Harry sighed in contentment and shifted, cuddling against him. Severus lifted one hand to smooth the boy’s hair, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face.
“There were once three brothers,” Severus began, “who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight…”