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Severus was chopping ginger root when a silvery-blue phoenix patronus flew through the ceiling of his potion-making room. Severus’s heart sank- he knew that meant he was being sent on some mission. It was mid-Summer holiday. Severus did not want to be fucking working.

“Harry Potter hasn’t being recieving letters sent to check up on him,” Patronus-Albus said, “I’m sending you on a brief welfare check. Eyes over at Privet Drive have... concerns.”

Severus groaned. No ‘please’, no ‘thanks for dropping everything to my every whim’. Not from Albus Dumbledore. Now Severus was going to have to restart this potion. He’d been perfectly happy to spend his day brewing, unaffected by his job that he was supposed to be on break from.

But nooo.

“Flipping Potter boy,” Severus sighed, packing up his knives and ingredients, “Of course he has to be special.”

A flaming piece of parchment appeared over Severus’ head and tangled in his hair. Severus detangled it and looked at an address in some Muggle suburb.

“Stupid magical, glorified pigeon,” Severus griped, “Helping Albus send me on stupid missions. I’m not fucking paid enough for this.”

Severus dragged his feet getting ready. He didn’t depart until midnight, which wasn’t much later than when he received the message, but he wasn’t in a rush. Why should this be Severus’ problem? Just because Harry Potter’s guardians are too fucking incompetent to answer letters?

What were they up to?

‘Spoiling him rotten, most likely,’ Severus thought bitterly as he shrugged on his long, grey overcoat, ‘He’d better not end up in Slytherin, or he’ll be my stupid problem.’

Severus sighed, praying for patience, then apparated with a CRACK!

~

Harry stared at the slightly broken clock he’d salvaged and hidden in his cupboard, counting down the seconds until he turned eight.

‘10,’ he thought, and heard a boom of thunder.

‘9,’ he whispered aloud, as rain lashed against the walls of Privet Drive.

‘8,’ he yawned, because it was far too late for him to be up.

‘7,’ he wondered if this year would be better.

‘6,’ he was getting a new teacher, maybe they would be nice.

‘5,’ he wondered (hoped) if the teacher would notice all his injuries.

‘4,’ Harry thought he heard a CRACK! like one of a whip or a gunshot.

‘3,’ his stomach grumbled, as it often did.

‘2,’ he wished there was someone on this Godforsaken Earth who cared about him.

‘1.’

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” he whispered, cold and tired, distantly glad that he’d lived another year.

Someone knocked on the door.

Harry hoped desperately he was deluding himself. Who would go knocking on the door of a random suburban house at midnight? Harry figured he was just hearing things, but...

There it was again. A persistent and impatient rat-a-tat-tat.

Harry’s relatives didn’t stir, fast asleep upstairs. Harry was scared to open the door by himself! He was only just eight. He would surely be kidnapped!

Yet... Harry was significantly more scared to wake his aunt or uncle, knowing that he would get in awful trouble for it and be locked in the cupboard for being a bad host.

Harry hauled himself off of his cold, damp, thin blanket. He steeled himself and padded out of the cupboard, tiptoeing over to the rattling door. He fiddled with the lock and took a deep breath before opening the door.

He almost screamed, because the man behind the door genuinely looked like a vampire, backlit by lightning. It was really quite uncanny.

“Is Harry Potter here?” he said, looking down his nose at Harry wearing a very imperious expression, and though he sounded grumpy and looked like a bat, Harry didn’t really find him frightening after his initial reaction.

“Um, well, yes Sir. Do you want to come in?”

The man sniffed and strode past Harry into the hall.

“Where is he?”

Harry hid his hands behind his back and tried not to flap them in that ‘weird and demented’ way he often did.

“That would be me, Sir,” he whispered, hoping he wasn’t about to be murdered. Just as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon started to stir upstairs (Harry could hear them grumbling), the man crouched down and scanned Harry with intense, inky black eyes.

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t have parents, Sir.”

“Who are your guardians then?”

“Upstairs, in bed, Sir. My Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.”

The man’s eye twitched. Harry tried not to cower away, because Uncle Vernon didn’t like that. Harry forced himself to look the man in the eyes (despite how it made Harry feel yucky and wrong). Harry automatically tensed in defense against a blow.

Rather than hitting Harry, however, the man straightened up and glared at where Aunt Petunia was just beginning to descend the stairs, looking rather upset in her curlers.

“Tuney,” the man spat, with disdain, “I can’t say it’s a pleasure.”

“You!” Aunt Petunia shouted, “What in God’s name are you doing here?”

“Well, Harry hasn’t been getting his letters,” the man said irritably, “So I’ve been sent here to do a brief welfare check on him.”

“I’ve been sent letters?” Harry said disbelievingly, “From who?”

Aunt Petunia turned a fierce glare on Harry, who took an automatic step back and shrank in on himself protectively. ‘Don’t ask questions, boy,’ Harry’s mind helpfully supplied.

“Don’t ask questions, boy!” Aunt Petunia snapped, right on queue.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, regret filling him to his toes. Why did he always ask questions? Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why was he always doing the wrong thing?

Harry realised he’d started flapping his hands. He quickly clamped his hands under his armpits to keep them still, feeling terrified and anxious. Tears prickled at his eyes.

“You have been getting the letters then?” the man asked, “Why haven’t you replied to them?”

“Yes, we’ve gotten the bloody letters! AGAIN AND AGAIN!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, hurting his ears. Harry hadn’t noticed him at the top of the stairs, but he was there now, wielding a rifle. Harry squeaked and hid his face in his hands, quickly taking a few steps back and hiding behind the tall stranger. He was terrified that Uncle Vernon would finally do what he’d been threatening to do for years and kill him.

“Get away from him, boy!” Uncle Vernon said harshly. Harry whimpered and crouched down with his head between his knees, trembling and terrified. He heard a loud commotion, a lot of shouting, and the rifle went off. Harry genuinely braced himself to be shot.

Luckily, he didn’t get shot, and he didn’t hear anyone else falling to the ground or crying out either. Harry still stayed hidden, curled up like some sort of egg.

“HOW DARE YOU DESTROY MY PERSONAL BELONGING!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, “THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY! YOU ARE TRESPASSING! I’LL CALL THE POLICE ON YOU, YOU FREAK!”

That word. Freak. Harry couldn’t cope with that word. A violent sob tore out of his chest, making his head ache through a haze of dehydration and starvation.

“BE QUIET, YOU STUPID CHILD!” Aunt Petunia shouted, but Harry only cried louder. He could never really force himself to stop crying once he started- that just wasn’t how it worked. Not for Harry. Not when the world got huge and every loud noise echoed in his brain and emotions swirled and everything became far too much.

“Tuney, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up,” the man hissed, “And you’ll quiet your idiot husband too.”

Someone put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He flinched away and scrambled blindly backwards.

“No, please,” he pleased, mixing up his inner demons with reality, “I’ll be good, I promise, don’t hurt me, please don’t lock me i-in the cupboard!”

“Cupboard?” the man inquired, at the same time Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon yelled;

“SHUT UP BOY!”

Harry only cried louder and scooched all the way into a corner, until his back hit the wall. He pressed his eyes against his knees and hit the heels of his palms against the floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I’ll do better, just please don’t send me back there!”

“Petunia, what the fuck did you do to this poor child?” the man said with disgust in his tone. Aunt Petunia made an affronted noise.

“Nothing more than the freaky brat deserves!”

“Merlin, I thought you would mature even a tiny bit, Petunia! Did you seriously take out your petty jealousy on an innocent child?”

“Oh, like you’re such a saint!”

“I didn’t abuse a child!”

Harry’s head snapped up and he properly stared at the scene unfolding before him.

“He needs discipline!” Aunt Petunia said with a self-righteous sniff, “We’re trying to stamp the freakishness out of him!”

“I haven’t even talked to him properly, and I know you’ve mistreated him enough to traumatise him for life! You’re honestly worse than Tobias, and you met that worthless excuse for a human being!”

Aunt Petunia went pale and shut up. Uncle Vernon was glaring at his mangled rifle that looked like it’d been thrown in a fire.

Everyone went quiet, and the only sounds were the storm raging outside, and Harry’s crying. The tall man slowly dropped to one knee in front of Harry and, making every movement visible, held out a hand for Harry to take. Harry hesitated- it could be a trap- but he took the man’s hand and struggled to his feet.

“So you’re Harry Potter?”

Harry nodded tearfully and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, embarrassed that this was his first impression to make on someone.

“Pleasure to meet you, Harry. I’m Severus Snape, and I’m the potions master at Hogwarts school.”

“P-potions?” Harry stuttered, “Like chemistry?”

Snape chuckled and nodded. Harry realised he was still clinging to his hand, and he dropped it with a sheepish ‘sorry.’

“Something like that. Hogwarts is the school that I work at, and you have a place there when you turn eleven. I’m here on a welfare visit, of sorts. You’ve been sent a few letters, but I don’t think you’re receiving them.”

“Really?” Harry breathed, choosing which can of worms to address, “What sort of school is Hogwarts.”

“A magic school, of course.”

Harry’s heart sank. Was this all a prank? A cruel trick from the Dursleys? Was this their ‘gift’ for him on his eighth birthday?

“Magic isn’t real,” Harry bit out, disappointment reaching all the way to his toes, “Don’t mess with me, please.”

“I assure you, Harry, magic is very much real. Your aunt should have told you, but there are a lot of things that Petunia should have done that she didn’t do.”

A fragile, dangerous, terrifying hope sparked in Harry’s chest.

“You’re a wizard, Harry.”

And the only thing Harry could say was;

“How!?”

The disbelief and incredulity he was feeling definitely showed on his face, because Snape’s lips quirked up into a smile. Harry got the feeling that he was ‘endeared’ by Harry’s surprise.

“Both your parent’s were magic, and you inherited it from them. I daresay you’ve had a few strange happenings around you when you’ve been upset?”

Harry thought back to every time he’d done something ‘freaky’ and ended up locked in his cupboard. It felt like a trick question.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. All magical children have a place at Hogwarts once they turn eleven, Harry, and you are one of those magical children. When you’re eleven, you will take the train to Scotland and board with the other students.”

The spark of hope in Harry’s chest quickly grew into an inferno.

“Really? I can... leave Privet Drive?”

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley both went red with anger. He’d said too much.

A bucket of icewater extinguished the hope and replaced it with fear.

Harry wouldn’t be let out of his cupboard until December, what was he thinking, asking questions?

“Harry, do you want to leave your aunt and uncle?”

Harry didn’t answer. He stared at his bare feet and curled his toes. Snape crouched down to Harry’s eye level, wearing a surprisingly kind expression.

“Do they hurt you, Child?”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat, and his first instinct was to shake his head. He would get in so much trouble if he told on his relatives, why, they would kill him for sure! ‘This could be your only chance to speak up,’ Harry told himself, ‘You could end up spending another ten years being beaten and starved until you’re eighteen, because you’re a freak.’

Was it all Harry’s fault? Was he a freak in the wizarding world, too? Would any other people do the same things to Harry?

Shakily, and with great reluctance, Harry rolled up the sleeve on his oversized pyjama shirt and showed Snape the bruises, burns, cuts and scars. They were on his back and his other arm, too, but he was too cold to take his whole shirt off. Snape scowled. Harry immediately hid his arm in his sleeve and drew back.

“I’m not angry at you, Harry. Show my the arm again.”

Harry reluctantly extended his arm and the man took it carefully. He took a vial out of his pocket and pushed Harry’s sleeve back, then poured a blue liquid on the worst wounds. Harry watched in amazement as the cuts stitched themselves back together in front of his eyes.

“Wow,” he breathed, “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore!”

“The magic of potioneering.”

Harry’s eyes welled up with yet more tears.

“Thank you, sir,” he whispered, “I’m sorry to be an inconvenience.”

“You haven’t been an inconvenience to me, Harry,” Snape reassured, “If anyone has made my life harder, it’s Petunia.”

The answering squawk from Harry’s aunt was ignored.

~

Severus wasn’t paid enough for this.

He had been annoyed at the disruption to his usual Summer schedule when Albus sent him on this assignment, but the minute he saw the Potter child cower away from every movement, he was almost grateful that he had been sent on this welfare visit.

The child was eight, but he looked no older than five. He was scrawny, emaciated, and he held himself like he was trying to be as small as possible. The injuries on his arms were clearly extensive and from many different instances, and the way he had cried when shouted at was a huge warning sign to Severus.

Severus could not leave the poor boy with his vile guardians. No way.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he sighed, praying for his sleep schedule, “Harry, I’m taking you away from here, and you’re never coming back. Petunia, you’ll sign over the rights to this child if you know what’s good for you.”

Harry blinked up at Severus with disbelieving eyes- her eyes, Lily’s eyes- and his knees seemed to give out, because he crumpled onto the floor.

“We’ll be glad to be rid of the monster,” Petunia spat, “He’s a useless waste of space.”

The lack of reaction from Harry told Severus he’d heard all this before. A protective rage flared in Severus’ chest and he brandished his wand.

“Harry Potter is a better person than you will ever be, Petunia Evans Dursley,” he snarled. Petunia cowered away from Severus’ wand. Severus conjured all the relevant papers and angrily watched as the two monsters signed away custody over Harry.

They didn’t even seem to care.

“Does he have any things?” Severus said coldly.

“We wouldn’t wast our money on that freak,” Vernon growled. Severus took a fortifying breath.

“You two don’t deserve children,” he said in a monotone, “You’ll be getting a visit from your Muggle inspecting people, because you should not be allowed to care for any child.”

Severus pointedly turned his back on Petunia and Vernon. He crouched down in front of Harry, who flinched away from him and cried.

“I’m sorry to take you away from your... family,” he said in an attempt at comfort, “I will find you someone to take care of you. They will never do anything like this. I swear it.”

The poor child cried harder and curled in on himself, still expecting attack. Severus hid his wand up his sleeve and carefully picked Harry up- who really shouldn’t have been as light as he was. With a raised middle finger and a glare at the Dursleys, Severus apparated back to his house.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered to Harry, who was visibly half-asleep, “You’re safe now, Child.”

“Th-thank you, Sir,” Harry whispered, fragile and tired. Severus carefully laid him down on his couch. He curled up, protecting his organs, Severus knew. He looked even tinier on the large grey couch, and rather ill. Severus sighed and carefully brushed messy hair away from the boy’s forehead.

“I’m not your teacher yet, so you can just call me Severus. Now, I’m going to call a doctor,” he said in a low, even voice, “She’ll fix up your injuries.”

“I’m fine, really, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time,” Harry protested weakly. Severus shook his head.

“It’s Poppy’s job to heal. You’re not an inconvenience or a waste of time simply by merit of existing. You need to get your injuries seen to, okay?”

To Severus’ dismay, the poor child started crying again.

“Thank you,” he sobbed, “Thank you so much.”

And, going against everything in his nature, against everything anyone had ever expected of Severus, he gathered the son of James Potter in his arms and held him like something precious.

~

Harry had never been hugged, in his memory. He was sure he’d been hugged by his parents, before they died in that car crash, but his childhood had been completely void of affection. Harry was fairly sure the most physical affection he’d ever gotten was a pat on the head from one of his Primary School teachers.

And so, hugging was something so foreign to Harry that he almost didn’t notice when Severus pulled him into his arms. But when Harry realised what was happening, he melted into the rare show of care and safety. He clung to the dark-haired man’s robes and sobbed, feeling so many emotions at the same time that they all manifested as simply crying uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry this all happened to you, Child,” Severus whispered in Harry’s ear, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Harry wasn’t sure how anyone could make such a promise, but in that moment, he believed it. For the first time in his memory, someone cared, even just enough to notice what was going on with Harry’s relatives. Enough to take him away.

Eventually, Severus pulled away from the hug. Harry had the desperate impulse to grab his robe and not let go, but he forced himself to let go of the only nonviolent physical contact he’d experienced since forever.

“S-sorry,” Harry stuttered. Severus drew a wand out of his sleeve- Harry guessed it was a wand, anyway. Harry’s instinct was to hide from the threat, but the wand wasn’t pointing at him.

“Expecto Patronum.”

A silvery-blue glowing doe burst out of the wand and stood in front of Severus, seemingly waiting instruction. Harry’s eyes widened and be gasped.

“Wow! She’s beautiful!”

“She is,” Severus agreed, then turned to the doe and instructed; “Go to Poppy Pomfrey and deliver this message- I have a child in my living room who requires immediate and discreet medical treatment. Please come to Spinner’s End at your earliest convenience.”

The deer bounded away and Harry gaped after it in wonderment.

“That’s amazing,” he breathed, “Was that really magic?”

“It was indeed. Now, I’d say you’d like to change out of those clothes? They don’t fit you at all.”

Harry flushed and shook his head.

“No, I’m fine, really,” he promised, but Severus waved his wand and summoned a pair of pyjamas anyway. They were far too big for Harry, but he didn’t want to point it out. It would be rude!

“Put these on and I’ll shrink them down to size,” Severus instructed, handing Harry the soft jammies.

“With magic?” Harry said with admiration, too excited at the prospect of seeing more magic to protest being given the pyjamas.

“Yes, with magic,” the man said with a smirk, “Now, put them on!”

Harry did just that, as Severus respectfully adverted his eyes. Harry was embarrassingly inept at getting his arms through the sleeves of the pyjamas. He struggled with it for two minutes before he managed to pull the shirt on.

“Mmkay,” he mumbled, feeling mildly woozy. Severus looked over and pointed his wand at Harry (who flinched away) and shrank the pyjamas to perfectly fit. Having clothes that fit was a new experience for Harry.

They were soft and the seams weren’t tortuously scratchy like most of Harry’s other clothes. He could use his hands without rolling up his sleeves, and he was all around really comfortable. Another wave of gratitude and emotion came over Harry, and he sniffled.

“Thank you so much,” he whispered.

“No problem,” Severus said with a smile. Harry twisted his hands in his lap.

“Do you really teach at a magic school? And I’m really a... wizard?”

“You are a wizard. Rather a famous one, too.”

“Me? Famous? Why???”

“Do you know how your parents died, Harry?”

Harry’s lip wobbled and he sat up with his knees pulled up to his chin.

“A car crash brought on by drunk driving,” he whispered, “That’s when I got my scar.”

“Salazar, I hate your aunt,” Severus sighed, “Petunia lied to you, Harry. Your parents were murdered by the darkest and most dangerous wizard of the century. You, somehow, survived, and the same night that you didn’t die, the bad wizard did die.”

“What!?”

“I know, it’s a lot to take in. You are highly respected in our world.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, the population doesn’t know that. I know you’re just a child, Harry. For now, just focus on recovering. You will come to understand everything over time, but too much information right now won’t help you recover.”

“What do you mean, recover? I’m not sick.”

“You need to gain weight, for the first thing. Did they ever feed you?”

Harry stared at his knees, vaguely ashamed to talk about how they treated him. He didn’t know why, but he’d always thought that people would think less of them if they found out how much his relatives hated him.

If his own family thought he was worthless, why should anyone else like him?

“They fed me... sometimes. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“You are alive, and I don’t doubt that took a lot of bravery and intelligence.”

“I don’t know about that,” Harry mumbled, “I just hide.”

“Hiding isn’t something to be ashamed of. Sometimes, you have to know when to hide and when to stand strong.”

Harry knuckled his eyes.

“Thank you so much for doing something,” he choked out, “No-one ever looked close enough to notice before.”

Severus turned to kneel in front of Harry and looked at him with a sincere expression.

“I know, Child. I’ve been in a similar situation. I would never leave someone to experience the same things I did, or worse. No-one deserves to go through what we went to.”

Harry stared at Severus in disbelief. This strong, tall, imposing man, who had a career in a mystical magic school, had had a similar childhood to Harry’s?

There was... another end to this?

“You’re surprised?”

“I never thought... I never thought they would keep me alive for long enough to have a future,” Harry confessed.

“I know that feeling,” Severus said bitterly, “I’m glad we both got out, hmm?”

Harry hugged Severus tightly, feeling more than he could express with words.

~

Severus once again found himself with an armful of weepy eight year old. He slowly rubbed circles into Harry’s shaking back and soothed him.

He knew he’d never been a very ‘nice’ person, and he definitely wasn’t one of the caring teachers, so hugging someone was one of the least expected things out of him. Severus wasn’t sure if he’d ever been seen comforting someone like that. Not that he hated humans, or anything. He was just... socially awkward.

Which was why Poppy gasped so loudly when she stepped through the floo.

“Severus!” she squeaked, “Are- what- is this who you sent me to get medical attention for?”

Severus nodded, and when Harry made no move to let go of him, he carefully picked the boy up again and sat down on the couch with Harry’s legs locked around his waist.

“Albus sent me to Mr.Potter’s household because he wasn’t receiving letters, Poppy,” Severus said, with a meaningful look over Harry’s shoulder, “And when I found young Harry, I found a much bigger problem than mislaid post.”

“Oh my,” Poppy exclaimed, “That’s Harry Potter? Isn’t he eight?”

“He turned eight today actually,” Severus recalled with a wince, “A bit of a dramatic introduction to the age.”

“Well,” Poppy said, regaining her clinical composure, “I’ll look him over then.”

Looking over him, which turned out to be quite the endeavor, since Harry seemed quite scared of the nurse and clung to Severus’ robes like a child far younger than he was. Severus couldn’t blame him- Harry had little reason to trust anyone, but he seemed to have some faith in Severus, at least. (That made Severus’ heart feel a bit too big for his chest)

“Madame Pomfrey is a doctor, Harry,” Severus soothed, “She’s not going to harm you. She’s a colleague and friend of mine.”

“I just need to check you over, dearie,” Poppy coaxed, “Nothing too fancy today, I just have to check for broken bones or infections.”

Harry resolutely kept his face hidden in Severus’ shoulder. Severus looked to Poppy helplessly- there wasn’t much he could do if Harry didn’t want to move. He wasn’t going to manhandle the poor child, he would only get more upset.

“Severus can stay here with you, Harry, I just need you to turn around,” Poppy offered. Harry hesitantly twisted around and let Poppy get a look at him.

“Good!” Poppy praised, “Can I do my examination now, dearie?”

“Okay,” Harry whispered. Severus shifted him in his lap and, with a comforting instinct he didn’t know was in him, took his tiny hand and squeezed it gently.

“Poppy won’t hurt you,” he promised. Harry nodded tightly and let Poppy bandage up his arms, check his reflexes, his eyes, his hearing, and cast multiple spells over him to check for current or past broken bones.

“You poor boy,” she cooed. Severus noticed Harry stiffen when she said ‘boy’. He had a bad feeling that was a trauma related thing.

“Tell me to stop if this hurts,” she said, waving her wand in circles. Harry didn’t protest, but he flinched with every wand wave. Severus only noticed because he was in his lap, but he worried just how much it was hurting Harry.

“You’re a good patient,” Poppy said happily, once she’d reset all the bones, “Have a lollipop.”

Harry reached out with wide eyes and gingerly took the sweet, clearly surprised and pleased at the offer.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he breathed, staring at the lolly with reverence. Severus resolved to give him more sweets before... before he found a good family for Harry to stay with. For some reason, remembering that he would have to find someone else to care for Harry made Severus’ heart hurt.

“So polite! I wish more of my patients were like you, Harry,” Poppy said, pulling a piece white card with letters of varying sizes on it out of her bag.

“Alright, I’m going to test your vision now. Can you tell me as many letters on the board in order, please?”

Harry rattled off the first two rows of larger letters, then he started squinting, and stopped being able to legibly read the letters. Severus was no medical expert, but he was fairly sure that was very bad.

“Oh dear,” Poppy murmured, “Harry, did you get hit on the head a lot when you were a child?”

Harry shrugged.

“Can you answer me please, Harry?”

“Sometimes,” he whispered, “When I was... really bad.”

“Did your vision get spotty after? Did you feel dizzy, or lose consciousness?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, visibly upset at the recollection. Severus mouthed careful over the his head. He didn’t want him too upset.

“Well then dearie, you need to get your eyes tested quite soon, okay? Remind your guardian that.”

Harry nodded and clung to Severus’ hand, tiny fingers surprisingly strong.

“That’s it for today, but you’re going to need your vaccines, and I’m sure Severus can give you some nutrition potions. You were an excellent patient Harry, and don’t hesitate to call on me if you ever need it.”

Harry nodded mutely. Poppy left with stern instructions to sleep and not eat too much too fast, lest he make himself sick. With a flare of the floo, Severus was alone in his house with the eight-year-old.

Now, Severus was a head of house at Hogwarts. He spent the majority of the year in Loco Parentis for tens of children, and he had a fostering license. (which he’d gotten a year prior, with a reluctant and terrifying hope to take in a child of his own). Since Petunia and Vernon had signed Harry’s custody over to Severus, it wasn’t illegal for him to have removed Harry from his situation.

It was still strange to have a child in his house that he’d only met hours ago, completely responsible for him.

“Now then,” he said, with forced cheer, “Some food and drink, I think. Do you like soup?”

Harry nodded and slid off Severus’ lap. He anxiously shifted from foot to foot, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Severus realised he probably hadn’t had access to a loo for hours.

“Do you need to use the toilet, little one?”

Harry nodded desperately and hopped on one foot. Severus quickly led him to the downstairs loo, making haste so as to avoid an accident or a mess.

“Thank you!” Harry yelped and ran into the bathroom. Severus stood across the hall, not wanting to leave Harry to try and figure out the way back to the living room himself. It wasn’t long before Severus heard the toilet flush and the tap run, then Harry left the bathroom and scurried over to Severus’ side.

“Feeling better?” Severus said with a wry smile. Harry nodded emphatically. Severus noticed him flapping his hands at his sides, but he didn’t draw attention to it. Some of his students tended to do that too, and though some of the other teachers didn’t like it or found it disrespectful, Severus never found any issue with students being a bit fidgety.

“Thank you,” Harry said again. Severus nodded curtly, then thought about the child’s other needs.

“Do you want to go eat something for dinner?”

“Yes please.”

Severus led Harry to his small, cold kitchen, and cast a warming charm around the room so the poor child wouldn’t freeze.

“As Poppy told me, if you eat too much too fast, you might not be able to keep it down and feel sick, so we’re going to start slowly, okay Harry?”

Harry’s head bobbed up and down. His messy hair bobbed with him. He was very cute, Severus thought. Small, innocent and polite. Severus heated up two small bowls of soup, aware that it was two o’clock in the morning. Harry must be absolutely exhausted, but he really did need to eat and drink.

“Do you want juice?” Severus offered, “I have apple and orange.”

“Yes please,” Harry said quietly.

“Apple or orange then?”

“Orange.”

Severus put a glass of orange juice and a bowl of soup in front of Harry, who sat obediently and slowly sipped it.

“Thank you, Severus,” he said when he was finished. He stood up and brought his bowl over to the sink, and hovered there, unsure.

“Just leave the bowl there, Harry.”

Harry put the bowl down, but he looked over at Severus worriedly.

“I can clean!”

“I don’t doubt you can, but it’s two in the morning. You need to get some sleep, I can clear up.”

Harry shook his head and flicked his fingers quickly at his sides.

“No, no, I can’t be a burden, I don’t want to make work for you,” he insisted, “Please, I promise I can help!”

Severus crouched in front of the small boy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to help. I know you can, but I don’t need you to, Little One. I need you to sleep so you can feel a bit better in the morning, okay? You’ve had a very busy night.”

Harry’s lip wobbled.

“I don’t want to annoy you,” he said, looking the picture of sadness and worry, “You didn’t sign up for having me intrude on your life.”

“You’re not intruding,” Severus corrected sternly, “And none of this is your fault. Just because your aunt and uncle treated you badly, doesn’t mean you’re a bad child. Can I show you to the guest room, please?”

“O-okay,” Harry relented, casting one last worried glance at his dirtied crockery before following Severus out of the kitchen.

“Now, the guest room is rather boring because no-one stays in there anymore,” Severus explained before opening the door, “But I can cast a few cleaning charms, and I’m sure wherever we find to be your new home will have a lovely room for you.”

“You’re finding a new home for me?”

“Well I’m certainly not sending you back to Petunia,” Severus scoffed, “All of this, we can discuss tomorrow. I swear to you, you will be safe here.”

Severus got Harry settled in the guest room, then he left and sat staring into space in his own room directly next door. He drifted off eventually into a restless sleep, then woke in the night to a loud scream. He sat up straight as a pin and hurriedly headed in the direction of the distress. He stopped in the doorway of the guest room.

It was Harry screaming and crying, sitting up in bed with his arms wrapped around himself. Severus strode over to his bedside and knelt beside him.

“Harry, Harry, it was just a dream. You’re okay, Little One.”

Harry looked over fast enough to get whiplash.

“I’m sorry for waking you, I’ll be quiet, I promise I’ll try, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Severus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he reassured, “Don’t be so worried about waking me. You’re the one who had the nightmare, Child.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered again. Severus pulled him into a careful embrace.

“You needn’t be sorry, Harry. Just remember that you’re safe here.”

“P-promise?”

“I swear on my life, no harm will befall you while you are here in this house.”

Harry curled into Severus’ chest and shivered. A tiny, broken sob escaped him. Severus had the strange impulse to wrap him up in bubble-wrap and keep him like that forever. Then, he wouldn’t end up hurt.

~

The remnants of the nightmare kept Harry awake, so at some point Severus carried him into the living room. He gave him breakfast and settled him on the couch. Harry curled up in a blanket in a haze of exhaustion. He was lethargic, tired, and a lot of his muscles and joints ached.

After a little while, Severus gave Harry some weak, milky, sugary tea that made him feel far better. Then, he sat and read a book on the other end of the couch to Harry. Harry thought back to earlier that morning when he was upset, and Severus had hugged him and made him feel far far better.

Harry felt safe with Severus, in a way he’d never quite felt safe before. He wished that he could stay with Severus forever.

Why couldn’t Harry stay with Severus forever? He didn’t want a new home, or a new family, or new people and new rules and new dangers to learn. He wanted to stay where he felt safe, he wanted to stay with Severus, who had saved him and hugged him and let him cling to him like a koala.

Harry bit his lip and slowly scooched over to lean against Severus’ side.

“Are you okay, Child?”

“Mmhmm.”

Severus put an arm around Harry.

“Alright, then. There’s someone coming in a few hours to discuss the future of where you will stay.”

Harry’s heart sank. He didn’t want the reminder that he couldn’t stay, that he wasn’t wanted. He wanted to at least pretend.

Who would want him? Who would voluntarily take Harry in?

“Okay,” he said despondently. Severus picked up on it.

“What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

Harry didn’t answer. He bit back tears and focused on the wonderful feeling of being embraced by someone who could almost be a parent. He pretended he wasn’t unwanted and unloved, and instead allowed himself this small thing. He stayed silent for a very long time, and Severus went back to reading. They passed hours just in quiet company of each other, and Harry only felt more relaxed as time passed.

When a rather elderly man with a twinkly smile and a long beard stepped out of the fireplace like Poppy Pomfrey had before, Harry glanced over at him warily. The man looked unassuming, but so did Aunt Petunia.

“Ah, Severus, what an unexpected outcome to a routine check in!” the man said, “And you must be Harry, my boy.”

Harry flinched at ‘my boy’ and brought a hand up to grab Severus’ sleeve. He kept his eyes trained on the man.

“I must say, Severus, I’m surprised you have him practically in your lap. If I recall correctly, you’ve never been one for physical affection.”

Harry only clung to Severus’ sleeve tighter, terrified that the man would suddenly disappear and leave Harry with this stranger.

“Harry, I’m Albus Dumbledore. I’m the headmaster at Hogwarts, and I also know where you’ll be going to live shortly.”

The back of Harry’s throat burned and he held back a sob. He didn’t want to leave Severus! He wanted to stay with the nice man who comforted him after nightmares forever!

“Where are you sending him now?” Severus said with acid in his tone, “I hope it’s somewhere more suitable than his last guardians.”

“Molly Weasley has agreed to take in young Harry here,” Dumbledore explained, “She has a son about your age, Harry, as well as six other children.”

That prospect immediately terrified Harry. Seven children and two adults to get to know? It would be so loud! Harry really, really hated loud noises. And imagine the amount of tidying he would have to do to keep a house tidy after eight other people!

“This time, I insist upon a trial period of two weeks to a month,” Severus said smoothly, “I currently have guardianship over Harry, Albus, and I will not sign it over to Molly Weasley unless Harry is happy and safe in her home.”

“If you insist,” Dumbledore said skeptically.

Harry thanked whatever higher power there was out there for Severus.

~

Flooing over to the Burrow with a koala of a child practically stuck to his side was a surprisingly emotional experience for Severus. He had to admit, he had already gotten a bit attached to Harry, and was reluctant to part with the eight year old. But, Severus knew he probably wasn’t fit to care for a traumatised youth. He was too cold, too bitter, too sarcastic. He wasn’t fit to care for the Savior of the Wizarding world, no matter how much he wanted to.

Besides, what child would prefer the dungeon bat over the warm Weasley Matriarch?

(When Severus saw Harry’s terrified expression as he clung to Severus’ sleeve once out of the floo, Severus wondered if maybe this child would prefer the dungeon bat. Then he pushed the thought aside as wishful thinking.)

Molly immediately tried to fuss over Harry, but he hid completely behind Severus and shook his head. Molly looked a bit hurt, Severus noticed.

“Harry, this is Molly Weasley. She has a lot of other children and she’s more than equipped to care for you.”

Harry whimpered and clung to Severus’ robe tighter. Severus was confused- why had be become a safe place for the child? He was notoriously scary amongst youths.

“You’ll be safe here, Little One,” he said softly, “I’ll come check on you in two weeks, and I’m only a floo call away.”

Harry reluctantly detached himself from Severus and stepped out from behind him.

“Oh, you’re so small!” Molly immediately remarked. Harry shot her a wounded glare.

“I’ll have to fatten you up,” she declared, “I’ve got a son your age, his name is Ron. I hope it’s okay you’ll be sharing a room.”

Harry nodded meekly, looking very overwhelmed. His hands twitched at his sides, like they wanted to do that flapping thing they did, but he wouldn’t let them.

“RONALD!” Molly yelled. Harry flinched. A redhead much taller than Harry ran into the room, clutching a toy broom. Severus was struck by how tiny Harry really was if this boy was the same age- he was over a head taller than Harry.

“What is it Mum?”

“Show Harry to your room, please?”

Ron looked to Harry and gaped. He stood on tiptoes and excitedly shouted-

“YOU’RE HARRY POTTER!”

“Yes he is, now show him to the room you’ll be sharing!”

“Okay Mum! Come on Harry!” Ron said enthusiastically. Harry nodded stiffly and, with one last desperate look over his shoulder at Severus, ran after the redhead.

“Molly, before I go, I have some things to tell you about Harry,” Severus said seriously. Molly nodded and led him into the kitchen, where she gave him some very strong tea, a bit too strong for Severus’ liking.

“He was staying with his aunt and uncle before, but they treated him worse than a house-elf. He’ll likely try to do a lot of tidying and cleaning, and he seems scared to leave a trace of himself behind anywhere. He flinches at sudden movements, and he gets nightmares.”

“Oh, the poor dear!” Molly said sorrowfully.

“Don’t call him ‘boy’, I’ve noticed he gets triggered by it. He needs to drink one of these nutrition potions every night-” Severus handed her enough of the potions for two weeks- “And Poppy wants to see him tomorrow for another checkup.”

“Okay! Thank you so much for caring for him until now, Professor.”

“It was my pleasure,” Severus said, standing up and leaving the excessively strong tea.

(He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry.)

Severus flooed to his own house and absolutely did not cry into one of his couch cushions.

That would be ridiculous.

~

“And this is my room! I guess it’s your room too, now!” Ron said cheerfully, opening a door to an offensively orange room. It sort of hurt Harry’s eyes.

“You really like orange, don’t you,” Harry said politely, hoping that was a safe thing to say.

“These are the Chudley Cannons! They’re my favourite Quidditch team!”

Harry squinted at a few posters on the walls, and saw blurry people flying around on brooms. He wondered what ‘Quidditch’ was.

“You can have this bed,” Ron said, pointing to one twin bed, “And put all your stuff in this dresser, because the other dresser is mine. Why are you in your jammies?”

“I don’t have any things,” Harry said nervously, “These are Severus’ pyjamas.”

“Everything has stuff!” Ron insisted, “What happened to yours? Who’s Severus?”

Harry dug his fingers into his palms and shook his head.

“Alright then,” Ron said, flopping on his bed and fiddling with something on his bedside table- Harry couldn’t see what it was from this distance.

Harry wondered if Severus was gone. He really, really wished Severus would stay. He really, really wished Severus would come back and bring him back to Spinner’s End.

Harry sat on the bed- his bed- and hugged a pillow close to his chest. He wanted a hug. Tears beaded at the corners of Harry’s eyes and he sniffled. Did Severus not like him? Is that why he was so eager to be rid of Harry? Would Mrs.Weasley want to get rid of him, too?

“Are you crying?” Ron asked curiously, “I’m a big boy, and I never cry!”

“No,” Harry lied, “I’m a big boy too!”

“No you’re not, you’re tiny. And you are crying, I can hear you!”

Harry hid his face in the pillow and ignored the redhead. He knew he was small- he was the shortest in his class, even shorter than Tony!- but he didn’t like the reminder. And he couldn’t help crying, because he missed Severus. Ron tried prodding Harry for a little while, but when he got no answer he gave up and left Harry to calm down.

After a little while, Mrs.Weasley called Harry downstairs to meet all of the other people in the house.

“This is my husband, Arthur, and all our children,” Molly said, pointing at the tallest person in the room. Harry looked around the crowded kitchen, feeling very overwhelmed and scared by the sheer amount of people. They all looked so similar, Harry was scared he would mix them up. Would they get upset if he did?

“In order of age, we have Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny,” Molly said, pointing at each one. Fred and George were clearly twins, and Harry couldn’t see any difference between them. The oldest boy towered over Harry, and Harry was really quite terrified of all of them. He felt outnumbered! With the Dursleys, it was always three against one.

Here, if something went wrong, it would be nine against one.

Harry would have to step very carefully.

“I’m Harry,” he whispered, fiddling with his fingers.

“Heya Harry!” both the twins said at the same time. Bill put his hand out to shake, and Harry tentatively took it.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Eight,” Harry mumbled.

“Nice to meet you, Harry! I’m fifteen.”

Bill was old enough to be one of the big boys that Harry was terrified of in school, but he didn’t seem to be mean like the big boys in Harry’s town. Charlie didn’t greet Harry. He looked shy, and a bit wary of Harry, which made sense because Harry was also shy and very wary of everyone. Harry shook more hands than he was particularly comfortable with. He just wanted to curl up in the room that he supposed was now his, and pretend the world didn’t exist.

Percy shook Harry’s hand with a serious nod and a very fancy ‘Pleased to meet you, old chap!’. Harry didn’t really think himself an ‘old chap’, but he supposed that Percy could be all fancy if he wanted. Harry wasn’t the fancy police, he’d never been fancy a day in his life.

Fred and George both stuck their hands out at the same time. Harry had no idea which hand he was supposed to shake, and then they both laughed and one of them- Harry thought it was Fred -shook his hand first, and then the other. The last to approach Harry was Ginny, and she shyly stuck her hand out. She was a year younger, Harry knew, but she was taller than him by about the length of a pencil. (That was the comparison Harry made in his head)

“Hi,” she said, very shy and quiet.

“Hello,” Harry replied. And then once Harry was sort of introduced to everyone, they sat down at the table. It was very cramped- Harry tried to make himself very small. He hated people brushing up against him, it felt prickly and icky and very, very upset.

“Now, Harry’s going to be staying with us, and if he likes it here he’ll be like another brother, okay?”

“Another?” Ginny squeaked, “I’ve already got five!”

Harry giggled, but Mrs.Weasley looked scandalized.

“Ginny! Don’t say something like that!”

“Sorry Mum,” Ginny sighed, “I promise I don’t dislike you Harry!”

“I know,” Harry reassured, “I wouldn’t want six sisters either.”

“I’m always surrounded by boys,” Ginny sighed, “They’re all so boring, no-one wants to play dolls and cars with me, and I’m not allowed play on a toy broom until I’m eight in a year, but that’s all they play!”

“I can play dolls and cars with you, if you like,” Harry said cautiously, wondering if that was allowed. Ginny perked up and grinned.

“Thank you! That’ll be so fun!!!”

“You don’t have to play with Ginny,” one of the twins said with a teasing grin, “Dolls are boring! You should fly with us instead.”

“No thanks,” Harry said politely. He didn’t know how to fly! It sounded scary. He wondered if Severus could fly. Did he think it was good? Or dangerous? Was it dangerous?

“Harry can do what he wants, Fred. I think it’s lovely that he wants to play with Ginny, you boys never do.”

Harry frowned. Were they like Dudley? Not letting the smallest person in the group play with them? Dudley and his gang never played with Harry, because he was scrawny and easier to beat up than play with. Were these boys beating Ginny up?

Harry didn’t think so, because Ginny didn’t seem scared of her brothers. She seemed quite fierce, and she wasn’t underweight, or bruised. Harry thought distantly that if someone tried to beat her up, they would be the ones worse off.

“I don’t know how to fly,” Harry confessed, “It sounds scary.”

All of the boys reacted with loud, scary outrage.

“What?”

“It’s not scary!”

“How?”

“Why?”

“But flying is amazing!”

Harry flinched and covered his ears from the noise. It hurt, how loud it was, but no-one else seemed to have a problem with how deafening it was.

“You have to try it!” Ron shouted, “It’s amazing!”

“I don’t want to,” Harry mumbled, pressing in on his ears more, “It sounds scary.”

That brought about another wave of protests. Harry was quite tempted to run away, it was way, way, way too loud and Harry’s limbs were fizzing like they wanted to move, but he instead curled up and stayed as still as he could. He didn’t want to give a bad first impression. He didn’t want to do the thing Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hated so much- the thing where he got so upset he started screaming and crying and flapping and try hide from the world.

Instead, Harry retreated into himself and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back tears. He pressed his palms against his ears hard enough to hurt them and, in his panicked state, braced for an attack.

~

Molly was used to the chaos of her children. It was fairly normal for them to be quite rowdy, she had so many of them that Molly had long given up on trying to keep them quiet. As long as they weren’t doing anything mean or dangerous, she usually let them do whatever (and get them to clean up afterwards).

They were all quite upset that Harry hadn’t flown before, and were all raring to go have him experience it for the first time. No-one seemed to notice quite how upset Harry was, before Molly looked over three different red heads of hair to see him curled into a tiny ball, his black hair standing out in the sea of red.

“All of you be quiet!” she said, panicking a bit. What was wrong with Harry? Was he okay? What had triggered him?

All of her children shut up and looked to her with wide eyes.

“Harry, dear, what’s wrong?” Molly said, walking around the table. Harry didn’t seem to hear her- not surprising, with the force he was covering his ears. Molly carefully took his wrist to try and pull his hand away, but the poor boy flinched violently and cried out.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bill asked, looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

“He looks ill,” Arthur said with concern, “Has he seen a mediwizard?”

“Yes, Madame Pomfrey checked him over,” Molly said, “I think that everything’s too much, too soon for him.”

“He was crying earlier,” Ron said, in that way young boys did, like boys weren’t allowed to cry.

“Ron!” Molly scolded, “That’s not something you should share! Poor Harry has been through an ordeal, it’s normal for him to be upset!”

Ron pouted. Molly resolved to talk to him later about that can of worms, but first she had to try calm poor Harry down.

“Harry, dearie, will you take your hands off your ears?” Molly asked, but Harry just shook his head. All of the other children started trying to coax Harry to take his hands away from his ears, which only made him shake his head again and again.

“Boys, Ginny, please don’t shout at Harry. Why don’t you all go and play?”

Bill and Charlie immediately started herding their younger siblings out of the kitchen, so it was only Arthur and Molly left in the kitchen with Harry. It was quite quiet, though Molly could hear the distant screeches and giggles of children happily playing.

“Harry? Tell us what’s wrong,” Molly soothed, “You’re safe here, don’t worry.”

Harry kept shaking his head, and after continuing her efforts to calm him for ages, Molly decided that maybe he wanted to be left alone, so she started working on lunch.

~

Harry slowly felt himself calm down once left alone. He could hear Mrs.Weasley working on lunch at the other side of the room, he had heard the other children leave, and he could hear Mr.Weasley reading the newspaper on the other end of the table. That made Harry feel safe enough to uncurl from his protective posture and fiddle with his fingers in his lap. When he finally felt a bit better, Harry stood up and started helping with lunch.

“You feeling better, Dearie?”

Harry nodded and looked intently at the vegetables he’d commandeered chopping.

“I’m sorry I ignored you and didn’t listen to you,” he muttered.

“That’s okay, dear,” Mrs.Weasley said kindly, “Are you sure you’re okay chopping with a sharp knife?”

“I do it all the time,” Harry nodded, “I use the claw finger thingy!”

“Thank you for the hand, Harry,” said Mrs.Weasley. Harry nodded silently, pleased to be thanked, but also wondering if he was allowed to not help. Did they expect him to cook and clean and do everything like at the Dursley's? Is that why this huge family had agreed to take him in?

Harry didn’t know what to think about anything.

~

Severus put his book down and stared around his living room, wondering how on earth it felt so empty. He realised, with a hint of horror, that he was feeling lonely after Harry had left.

Severus Snape, the vampiric dungeon bat, lonely.

Severus sighed and put his head in his hands. He knew he had often felt something... empty, or missing in his life. He knew he’d always sort of wanted to adopt or foster a child- a secret he kept even from himself, even while getting a fostering license.

But, Severus knew that Harry was with a nice, kind family. He would likely be incredibly happy the next time Severus saw him. Severus, of course, wanted him to be happy. Severus just didn’t think he could provide for a child. He worked in Scotland for half a year- and while working, he was doing that work for almost the entire day. If Severus did have a child, he worried they would be terribly lonely. He didn’t want to inflict his own loneliness on a child.

And what if Severus messed the kid up? What if he just continued the cycle of abuse and was just like his own father, who had traumatised him, taken away every single one of his prospects, and been part of what drove Severus to join the Death Eaters?

That wouldn’t be fair.

He still couldn’t help but miss the child’s quiet presence, or his tiny smile, and even, admittedly, his clinginess. Severus just found it endearing, really. The way the little one held onto him and treated him like a... safe space.

Severus liked being a safe space for someone so young, and innocent, and similar to himself. He was happy that he had been able to remove Harry from such an abusive situation and prevent him from growing up to be as unhappy as Severus had been.

He just wished he could be the one to provide a happy childhood for Harry.

~

Harry sat at the kitchen table when he was told and he was pleasantly surprised when he was given a plate piled high with the sandwiches he had helped Mrs.Weasley prepare. He bit into one of them and chewed it slowly. He didn’t particularly like sandwiches with all the different fillings, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was happy to be fed.

Harry felt full after three triangles of sandwich, which was a pleasant feeling. But, it seemed he was eating concernedly little, because Mrs.Weasley gave him two more triangles and told him to ‘eat up’.

“I’m really okay, Mrs.Weasley,” Harry protested, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs.Weasley insisted, “You need to eat up, get some meat on those bones.”

“Madame Pomfrey told me not to eat too much,” Harry said nervously, “She said it could make me sick.”

“Just eat one more then,” said Mrs.Weasley, a bit sternly, “You need to eat more!”

Harry forced down one more triangle, but felt rather nauseous. He knew that Mrs.Weasley meant well, but he felt sick. He hoped he wouldn’t throw it all up. He didn’t know where the bathroom was.

At that thought, Harry realised he really rather needed to use the bathroom.

Desperately.

Was he allowed? He wasn’t allowed use the facilities when he wanted to back at Privet Drive. When he was locked in the cupboard, he was only let out in the morning and the evening to use the bathroom. Did Harry need permission? Was he allowed to ask?

‘Don’t ask questions.’

Was Harry allowed to ask questions here? Would he cause the Weasleys great trouble with all his questions? He didn’t want to bother them or cause problems.

It only took Harry maybe five minutes of shifting in his chair to realise that he would be causing a much larger problem if he didn’t use a bathroom soon. Harry anxiously stood up and hopped on his toes.

“Mrs.Weasley?” he said, slightly desperately, “Can I please use the bathroom?”

Mrs.Weasley covered her mouth with a hand and gasped,

“Oh dear! Did no-one show you where it is?”

Harry shook his head and hopped from one foot to another.

“I’ll show you where it is,” Mrs.Weasley said and lead Harry to a bathroom, which he used quickly and thanked her.

“There’s another bathroom upstairs, and one connected to Arthur and I’s bedroom.”

Harry nodded and followed her back to the kitchen.

“When am I allowed use them?” he asked tentatively, hoping he wouldn’t be punished for asking a question.

“Whenever you wish, dear,” Mrs.Weasley said, a bit distractedly. Harry was grateful for that.

“Thank you, Mrs.Weasley.”

Harry sat back down at the table, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. Was he expected to clean or tidy or be out of the way? When the Dursleys didn’t have anything for him to do, they sent him outside or into the cupboard. So far, Harry hadn’t been introduced to a cupboard, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

After a little while, a whole bunch of the Weasley children ran outside, screaming at the tops of their lungs.

“They’re off to play Quidditch then,” Mrs. Weasley said, fondly shaking her head, “Why don’t you go find Ginny, dear? I’m sure she’d love to play now.”

“Thank you Mrs.Weasley!” Harry recited, then scurried out of the room.

After playing with Ginny for hours, which was an overall pleasurable experience, Harry was surprised to be given dinner- he didn’t have to help!- and sent to bed. Percy and Charlie and Bill stayed up later, which Ginny, Ron and the twins seemed to take issue with, but Harry was completely knackered and had no protests whatsoever to going to bed at seven in the evening.

He was still in the same pyjamas, which was less than ideal, but the Weasleys were already being so nice to Harry, he didn’t want to demand more of their hospitality. He also didn’t have a toothbrush, but he figured he would be able to find one somewhere at some point.

Harry remembered he was meant to take a potion, so he silently padded down the stairs and into the living room, where the five eldest Weasleys were playing a game of cards.

“I have to take my potion,” Harry announced to the room, hovering in the doorway. He stayed ready to run away if this request went awry- the Dursleys had always hated when he asked for medicine.

“Oh yes!” Molly exclaimed, “Thanks for the reminder, Harry! I put them in the kitchen, I think.”

Harry trotted after Mrs.Weasley into the kitchen, where she rummaged around looking for the bag Severus had given her before emerging from inside the oven with a triumphant ‘aha!’

“Here you go, dear, drink up! I’m afraid these don’t taste very good, I’m warning you.”

Harry took the flask gingerly and sniffed it. It was a rather inoffensive beige colour, but Harry had never done too well with most strong tastes or textures. He tentatively sipped it to find his mouth filled with the tangy taste of orange juice.

Severus knew Harry liked orange juice.

“It tastes like orange,” Harry said, slightly disbelievingly and maybe a little tearfully.

“Does it?” Mrs.Weasley said distractedly, “Professor Snape must have figured out how to flavor them.”

Harry drank the rest of the potion in one gulp.

“Thank you Mrs.Weasley, I’ll be going to bed now.”

Mrs.Weasley patted him on the cheek.

“Good boy, Harry, not picking up a fuss.”

Even though it was totally different, in Harry’s minds eye, he pictured every time he’d been called boy while Uncle Vernon hit him, or punched him, then locked him in his cupboard until the bruise would fade. Harry instinctively ran up all those flights of stairs and jumped into his bed, pulling the covers way up over his head.

“What’s up with you?” Ron asked, but Harry couldn’t respond. He was scared, and tired, and he was sad.

Severus had given him orange flavoured potions. Harry hid his face in his pillow and sobbed, for the first time, desperately missing someone. It was a foreign feeling, missing something.

Harry had never had something to miss, before.

Harry cried himself to sleep, well and truly soaking his pillow and giving himself a headache, likely from dehydration.

Harry woke up with a muffled scream, breathing erratically and terrified.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the door of his cupboard, yelling and cursing and blinding and brandishing his thick, silver-buckled belt.

Harry hugged his arms around himself and curled into the tiniest ball he could get into, unable to tell the difference between his dream and reality. Was Uncle Vernon in the shadows, where Harry couldn’t see him? Was he furious at Harry for admitting to Severus the way he was hurt by his relatives? Were they going to truly kill him, this time?

Harry cried quietly into the darkness, terrified that all his relatives stood lurking in the shadows, just waiting to strike. One of his legs jiggled frantically and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that if he couldn’t see them, it wouldn’t be as scary when they beat him.

And another spark of longing for the man who’d held him after a nightmare kindled in Harry’s chest.

Harry got up early, as he usually did, and tiptoed downstairs to get a start on breakfast so it would be ready when everyone else woke up. Harry found eggs and bread in one of the cupboards that was surprisingly cold, and he decided to make scrambled egg. He made enough for ten people- he hoped that he would be allowed have some, to keep up the pattern of him being allowed to eat at meals.

When Mrs.Weasley came into the kitchen, Harry had just finished making a very large amount of toast.

“Oh! You’re cooking?” said Mrs.Weasley, with surprise, “How considerate!”

Harry shrugged and turned off the cooker.

“Thank you dear,” she praised, “This looks very nice.”

Harry nodded wordlessly and sat down in the same spot he’d sat at yesterday.

“Madame Pomfrey is coming over at eleven,” Mrs.Weasley told Harry, “For a checkup.”

“Okay,” Harry mumbled, sitting with his shoulders hunched, trying to be small (which wasn’t hard).

“Did you already eat?”

“No!” Harry yelped, hoping that wasn’t an accusation. He needed to make a good impression that he wouldn’t break any rules, or take up space, or cause any problems, or cause any bother for the Weasleys.

“Well, you should have a little, dear.”

Harry nodded and didn’t say anything, or show he was happy because whenever he liked something, people would take it away from him.

“Thank you,” he said blankly.

“You’re the one who made it, dear,” Mrs.Weasley said a bit distractedly, as Fred and George ran into the kitchen and making the kitchen at least six times louder, even though there were only two of them. Harry quickly scarfed down some eggs and slipped out of the room and into the living room. There was no-one there, so Harry curled up in the farthest corner of the couch and hugged one of the throw pillows.

He recalled the previous morning, when had Severus hugged him and let him lean against him. Harry wondered why he missed Severus so much after only staying with him for one night- not even a full day.

He wanted the man to be his father.

Why couldn’t Harry be happy with what he had?

When Madame Pomfrey came, Harry reluctantly and stiffly complied with every instruction. She did a much more thorough medical examination, fixed a few more old injuries, and then she sat him down and kindly asked him questions.

“Are you sleeping well?”

“Not really,” Harry mumbled. Madame Pomfrey’s sympathetic look made him look down at his hands and avoid eye contact.

“Do you have trouble falling asleep, or do you have bad dreams?”

“Bad dreams,” Harry confessed, “I woke up very early the past two nights.”

“Do your new guardians know about it?”

Harry shook his head and hugged his arms around his waist.

“No, I didn’t want to wake them up and be a bother.”

“Do you get back to sleep after the nightmares?”

Harry shook his head and shook his hands over his lap, feeling fizzy and tingly.

“Mmkay... I’m supposed to tell your legal guardian most of this OK?”

Harry drew his legs up to his chest and sniffled.

“Currently, your legal guardian is Severus Snape.”

Harry wished Severus was properly his guardian...

“Have you seen Severus since you’ve come here?” Madame Pomfrey asked. Harry shook his head morosely, knowing it had only been a day.

“Are you happy here?”

Harry considered this. He wasn’t sure he would consider himself happy, but it was certainly better than the Dursleys. It had only been a day, but the Weasleys were very nice to him. He was just overwhelmed by how many people were in the house, and he wondered if someone could go all their life being practically alone, to having seven other children around him all the time, and share a room.

Harry simultaneously wanted to be ignored, because that was safe, and wanted to have someone care enough to pay attention to him. He didn’t doubt Mrs.Weasley cared, but she was very busy with her million other children and Mr.Weasley seemed very tired- probably from work.

Harry wondered if that was very selfish.

“I guess,” Harry said noncommittally, “Mr and Mrs. Weasley are nice.”

“I notice you’re in the same pyjamas as Severus gave you,” Madame Pomfrey said with raised eyebrows. Harry flushed and tugged on the sleeve of the shirt.

“I don’t have any other clothes.”

“Does Mrs.Weasley know?” Madame Pomfrey asked.

“She didn’t notice,” Harry muttered, “She’s probably just not paying attention to what I’m wearing.”

“Did she not check when you moved in?”

“No...”

“Do you have a toothbrush and a toothpaste? A hairbrush? Any personal belongings other than pyjamas?”

“No... but I didn’t ask either.”

“Alright dearie, can I talk to Mrs.Weasley about that?”

Harry nodded and rocked back and forth, enjoying the swoopy feeling it gave him in his tummy.

“Is there anything else you want me to tell Mrs.Weasley?”

Harry shook his head and rested his chin on his knees. Madame Pomfrey patted him on the hand and stood up.

“Just keep drinking your potions and eating three good meals a day, okay?”

Harry nodded and Madame Pomfrey left to the kitchen, leaving Harry to himself. Harry kept rocking and hummed a song he’d heard on Mrs.Figg’s radio.

Mrs.Weasley came into the room maybe two minutes later and sat down on the other side of the couch to Harry. Harry stopped humming and rocking and looked over at her. He stared at her ear rather than meeting her eyes.

“I’m sorry we didn’t check in that you didn’t have clothes or toiletries, Harry. That was a huge oversight on mine and Arthur’s behalf and, as adults who are supposed to be responsible for you, we shouldn’t have forgotten something so important to your care.”

“S’okay,” Harry mumbled, not wanting to make a big deal and seem ‘needy’ while he was in good favor.

“We’ll find you the things you need now, Harry. I’m so, so sorry we neglected to properly care for you in this way.”

Harry didn’t respond and picked at the skin around his nails.

“Until I can get to a shop, are you okay wearing some of my older son’s hand-me-downs?”

Harry nodded, hoping that they would fit better than Dudley’s old clothes. And also hoping they wouldn’t, sort of, because Harry knew he was picky about clothes and hated seams being close to his skin and brushing against him. He didn’t like wearing clothes that swamped him, but he also didn’t like wearing most of the few cheap items of correctly-sized clothes he’d ended up being given through a variety of scenarios.

Mrs.Weasley left the room and returned a few minutes later with an armful of clothing that she deposited on the carpet.

“Pick through this and see which ones you like,” she instructed. Harry carefully slid onto the floor and sifted through the pile, immediately unable to deal with the tactile feeling of some of the fabrics. He did find a small pile of shirts and another pile of pants, two very soft hand-knitted jumpers that Mrs.Weasley said she made for her children each Christmas, and another pair of pyjamas.

“I’m afraid we throw away old underwear, because it wouldn’t be hygienic to wear second hand undergarments, but Arthur will grab some essentials on the way home from work,” Mrs.Weasley said once Harry had made his selections.

“Thank you, Mrs.Weasley.”

“Really, no problem dear. We should have sorted this all out before you came to us.”

Harry shrugged and carried his new-old clothes upstairs with the intent to fold them away in his dresser. Ron was in the room, poking a rat.

“What are you doing to that poor rat?” Harry gasped, offended for the rat and also mildly worried that there was a... well, a rat in the bedroom.

“This is Scabbers,” Ron said boredly, “He’s Percy’s.”

“Why is he here then? It seems mean to poke him,” Harry said, drawing his eyebrows together, “Does Percy know you have him?”

“No, because he never lets me play with Scabbers!”

“Maybe because you poke him when you do and don’t respect the poor animal?” Harry suggested, feeling very empathetic to the poor rat, who just seemed to want to sleep. Harry also just wanted to sleep...

“You should give him back to Percy,” he said quietly, “He might be worried.”

“No,” Ron said suddenly.

“But-”

“WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU?” Ron shouted, loud enough for Harry to flinch and cover his ears, “YOU’RE JUST SOME STUPID CRYBABY WHO’S STEALING MY BEDROOM AND MY PARENTS!”

Harry’s lip wobbled.

“I didn’t want to steal your parents,” he said tremulously, “I just want a home. I’m sorry for being selfish.”

With that, Harry dumped the armful of clothing on his bed and ran out of the room, down the stairs, out the front door and past the property line before he could even register what he was doing. Harry ran and ran and ran until his tired legs gave out and he curled up against a tree, lost, alone and in tears.

I’m always a bother, he thought miserably to himself, the Weasleys clearly don’t want me here.

Harry rocked and flapped and cried, cried, cried.

~

Molly had never had one of her children run away before, so this was an unprecedented situation. The second she heard the door slam shut, she went to check who it was- the Burrow was a rather large property, so she liked to know if her children were in the garden or not.

It didn’t take long for Molly to realise, with a growing sense of dread, that all of the Weasley children were present and accounted for.

And then she started to panic.

“Bill! Charlie!”

The two elder boys both ran over to her when they heard the worry in her tone.

“What is it, Mum?”

“Harry’s just ran out the door, and I need you both to check for him and see if he’s in the garden or if he ran away,” Molly said frantically, “He’s such a shy boy to do anything I doubt he would go outside without asking first, and if he’s trying to run away I need you both to find him while I keep an eye on your siblings.”

Bill saluted and Charlie nodded seriously. Molly sent them off and wished her husband wasn’t at work.

She really hadn’t expected Harry to be so skittish, Albus hadn’t explained anything about Harry’s background to her. He’d sort of just said that he would be very grateful if she could take in Harry Potter because his previous guardians were ‘indisposed’. He didn’t mention that the poor child had been abused and needed medical attention over an extended period. He also clearly needed more care or attention than a child that didn’t have his background, and he was quiet enough that he wouldn’t demand what he needed or wanted directly. Molly had only had the child for two days, but she already knew that he wouldn’t ask for things.

Molly simply wasn’t equipped for caring for a child with such high needs on top of her own seven children. She simply couldn’t put that much time into one child and not her others! She also already struggled with financially supporting seven children, and she had expressed concerns to Albus about this initially.

However, she had committed and she wasn’t about to reject the poor boy, even if she wasn’t sure that her family were a very good fit for him.

But running away? She would have to have a stern talk with Harry about the importance of not doing that.

Molly anxiously waited for Bill or Charlie to return with news.

~

“Why are you crying so much?”

Harry hiccuped and froze. He slowly raised his head to meet the eyes of a small girl perhaps a year younger than him, with long blonde hair and very blue eyes. He didn’t answer, not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t think he could.

“Do you want me to go get my Daddy?” the girl offered, “He says I’m too small to be out by myself, and you don’t look much older than me.”

Harry shook his head.

“Okay,” the girl said, sitting down in front of Harry and staring up at the leaves of the tree.

“I’m Luna Lovegood, and you’re Harry Potter. I can tell from your scar, I’m sorry if that’s a little strange. I didn’t know you lived around here.”

Harry shrugged and choked on a sob.

“Do you want a hug?” Luna offered, “Mummy always hugs me when I’m upset.”

Harry nodded and Luna wrapped her arms around him. They were roughly the same size so it wasn’t the same comforting feeling of feeling protected as when Severus hugged him, but it was still very nice and Harry was grateful to her.

“I hope whatever's making you cry gets fixed soon,” she said kindly. Harry hoped so too, but he was scared to hope too much.

He missed Severus.

~

Charlie searched the garden thoroughly before reconvening with Bill and they both agreed that Harry had left the property. The problem was, there were far too many directions he could have gone in for two people to effectively search.

Charlie was quite worried about little Harry, because he was only eight and was likely to get very lost. Charlie had been surprised when his Mum and Dad told him and his siblings that someone was coming to go live with them, and he had been quite wary of the newcomer. But Charlie was a very observant person, and while he realised quite quickly that though Harry certainly wasn’t a threat or a brat, he was very sad and scared all the time.

It wasn’t fair, Charlie thought, that someone so young would have to face so much.

“He could be anywhere,” Bill said worriedly, looking around in a circle around the hill the Burrow was on- to the left, there was a huge, tall grass field, and to the right, a forest and a muggle village. Harry could easily be anywhere in the grass, curled up and impossible to see. He could be in the forest, hidden amongst trees. Charlie doubted he would be in the village so soon, since he was so tiny and not likely to be very fast, but he worried about how long it might take for them to find him.

“Should we check the neighbors houses? Wouldn’t it make more sense to run to a house?”

“I suppose?” Bill said skeptically, “I don’t think Harry was thinking very much when he ran, though. He didn’t take any food or clothes, after all. I think he was just very upset.”

Charlie took a deep, calming breath and weighed their options.

“I think that we should check with the Lovegoods, at least, and they might have a spell to help us find Harry. Or even just an extra pair of eyes would be great.”

“Good idea,” Bill nodded, “Off we go then.”

They ran to the rook-shaped house on a neighboring-but-by-no-means-close hill to their own and Bill bravely knocked on the door. Their eccentric blonde neighbor, Pandora, opened the door with her hair twisted into a topknot with her wand, and very strange earrings that looked like radishes. Her dress was shiny silver and she was wearing no shoes or socks. It was one of her less strange outfits.

“Oh hello Bill, and Charlie,” she said airily, “Are you boys okay?”

“Well, Mum and Dad are fostering Harry Potter and he’s a bit traumatised and he ran away and we need your help to find him please because Mum has to stay at home with our younger siblings!” Charlie said all in one breath.

“Oh dear,” Pandora said, looking completely indifferent, but Charlie knew she was actually concerned and just always wore the same facial expression.

“My husband and daughter are out walking in the forest, why don’t we go find them?”

Charlie nodded and followed as Pandora walked gracefully but quickly down the hill. She didn’t put any shoes on, but Charlie had to walk very very fast to keep up with her.

“How do you know where they are?” Bill asked breathlessly after five minutes of vigorous walking.

“They were looking for a blibbering humdinger,” Pandora said bafflingly, “They all stay in the same part of the forest.”

Charlie knew his strange neighbor well enough not to pursue that with further questioning.

Eventually, they came to a small clearing. Immediately, Charlie was incredibly relieved to see Harry’s wild head of curls over by a huge oak tree, with little Luna hugging him. Bill and Charlie both immediately ran over to them.

“Oh Merlin, thank goodness we found you Harry! Mum’s worried sick, why on Earth would you just run away like that?” Bill scolded, reaching out to grab Harry’s wrist. Harry whimpered and pulled his arms to his chest. Charlie put an arm on Bill’s shoulder and pulled him back a little.

“We have to be careful,” he cautioned, then whispered in Bill’s ear so Harry wouldn’t hear him, “He’s scared, he didn’t run away for no reason. Mum and Dad didn’t tell us much about what things were like before, but from the way he acts it was nothing good.”

Bill nodded tightly and crouched before the two younger children.

“Harry, can you come back to the house please?”

Harry shook his head and Luna gave Bill a disapproving look.

“Give him a minute to calm down,” she said in a very disapproving manner, “He’s upset and you’re a meanie.”

The affront on Bill’s face when a seven year old called him a meanie... well, it was funny to Charlie. He himself knelt before the pair and carefully put a hand on Harry’s knee. Harry looked up at him with red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

“When you feel better, we have to go home,” he said quietly, “Okay?”

Harry shuddered and nodded, clearly terrified.

“It’ll be okay,” Charlie reassured, “You just take a minute, and we can go back home.”

Charlie wondered if Harry even wanted the Burrow to be home.

~

Harry was, quite frankly, terrified. The Weasleys had welcomed him into their home, despite not all of them wanting to. They had fed him and clothed him (eventually) and been quite nice to him in general, and then Harry ran away. He had no idea what the consequences of that could end up being. Was this when he would find out what they were really like? Where they just planning on being nice to him until Severus’s trial period was out and he was legally stuck with them?

Were they going to back out on it and Harry would have to go through the whole process again, with a different far-too-loud family who’s children hated him?

Harry took a minute to dry his tears, then he stood up and thanked Luna, walking with his head hung to the two older boys. Luna was led away by a woman Harry assumed to be her mother, and Harry was frog marched back to the Burrow.

The minute he stepped into the house, Mrs.Weasley ran up, hugged him tight enough to make his eyes pop out, put him down, then brandished a tomato-stained wooden spoon and shouted-

“YOU CANNOT JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT! ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU AND YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF, MY HUSBAND AND I IN TROUBLE BY NOT THINKING ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS! RUNNING AWAY? WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA?”

Harry cowered and sniffled, trying not to completely break down into tears again.

“YOU CANNOT JUST RUN AWAY WITHOUT A WORD! YOU’RE LUCKY WE WERE ABLE TO FIND YOU! ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED!”Mrs. Weasley continued, looking angrier than Harry would have thought her capable of.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a very small voice.

“SORRY ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH! YOU WILL HAVE TO ACCEPT THE PUNISHMENT FOR THIS MISBEHAVIOR!”

She waved her spoon again, and though she wasn’t directly wielding it as a weapon, Harry’s mind locked back to every time Aunt Petunia had hit him with a frying pan or a spatula.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, finally letting tears fall, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Go to your room and have a long, hard think about your actions,” Mrs.Weasley commanded, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Harry ran up to his room and hid in his duvet, terrified and guilty, and dreading what ‘deal with you later’ meant.

Turns out, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Harry had been expecting. Mrs.Weasley gave him a very serious talk about expectations and rules, and said that any consequences would be much more severe if another instance were to happen. Harry nodded and apologised quietly again, but refused to tell Mrs.Weasley why he had run in the first place.

“I hope this doesn’t happen again,” she said disappointedly, “You’ve been such a good boy so far, and I want you to try maintain that positive behavior.”

Harry’s breath caught and he felt so unbelievably guilty. Why did he mess everything up?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and said nothing else for the rest of the day.

Or the next day, or the next day, or the next day.

By his fifth day of being there, Harry had resumed his usual role of trying his hardest to never bee seen, heard or paid attention to. He stayed in his bed most of the day, not sleeping or lazing about, but hiding.

Each individual Weasley tried to get him talk in different ways, but Harry just couldn’t. He felt like he would say something wrong again. He didn’t want to take up Mr or Mrs.Weasley’s time, away from their real children. He didn’t want Ron to be upset.

Until the fifth day, everyone’s attempts had just been asking him question after question after question. That wasn’t too bad- Harry could just nod or shake his head. It wasn’t anything too extreme.

Until Fred and George locked him in the second-floor cupboard and said they wouldn’t let him out until he asked nicely.

The minute the door closed and the darkness enveloped him, Harry fell to his knees. He felt the walls closing in on him and his lungs constricted. He couldn’t breathe, there was no air in this cupboard, he was going to die. He had misbehaved, and now he was locked in a cupboard.

Harry just waited for Uncle Vernon to hit him with something, curled in on himself in the corner, crying and shaking and struggling for breath.

He didn’t know how long he was stuck in there, but when he was let out he was pulled roughly out of the cupboard and down the stairs by the wrist. Harry could barely see from tears and his notoriously bad eyesight. He still thought he was in danger and he fought at every step.

“Fred! George! Apologise to poor Harry at once!”

“Sorry, Harry,” they both said in unison, “We shouldn’t have locked you in a cupboard.”

“DAMN RIGHT YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO LOCK THE PAIR OF YOU IN THE CUPBOARD!” Mrs.Weasley let go of Harry’s wrist and grabbed both twins by the ears. Harry clenched his fists and took three stumbling steps backwards.

“No!” he cried, “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE!”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and dug his nails into his palms. His panic took took him out of control and Harry felt rather as if he was being squeezed through a narrow tube and spat out the other end. He opened his eyes and realised he was on the roof of the Burrow.

Harry’s wracking sobs only intensified when he realised he’d done something freakish again. He was stuck on a roof, no way to get down, and no way to call for help. If he even did get down, he would surely be shoved right back in the cupboard once the Weasleys realised that he was such a freak. He’d teleported to a roof, and he wasn’t able to get down.

“Harry!”

Harry startled and screamed. He couldn’t see who was shouting, but they would surely berate him for his freakishness.

Harry’s stomach lurched and he threw up, scared of falling, scared of getting down, scared of not getting down.

He wanted Severus.

~

“Professor Snape!”

Severus leapt almost a foot in the air and looked over at his floo, where Charlie Weasley’s face was floating.

“What on Earth-” Severus exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling before the flames, “Why are you in my fireplace?”

“It’s Harry, Professor. He’s not been doing very well and Mum tries her best but I don’t think he’s happy here at all, and he accidentally apparated to the roof and now he’s refusing to climb on any brooms or talk to anyone, and he keeps crying for you.”

Severus’ heart sank and he grabbed the small pot of floo powder next to his fireplace.

“I’ll be right over.”

~

Harry was dizzy, sweaty and overheating. The evening sun beat down on him, but he was stuck on the roof. Bill had tried to fly up and fly him down on a broom, but he couldn’t get close enough for Harry to reach and Harry was too shaky and terrified, and kept crying to be left alone. His tears had long dried up, but he still cried. He tried to stay still so he would not slip, but the longer he stayed still he more upset he got.

Harry cried and cried and cried for Severus, so much that he almost thought he was hallucinating when he heard the man’s voice.

“Harry? Little one, can you hear me?”

Harry was so surprised he completely just shut up.

“I’m going to come up there to get you, okay child?”

“Please!” Harry shouted, “I’m sorry about being such a freak, please I’m scared.”

Harry hugged his knees to his chest and stared blankly into the middle distance, until he saw a familiar figure rising up slowly on a broom.

“S-Severus,” he choked out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to t-teleport I was scared...”

“It’s okay, Little One. You’re not in trouble, accidental magic is normal amongst young wizards and witches.”

Harry reached a hand out, desperately grasping. His vision grew fuzzy with dizziness and he hiccuped. Severus, much more gracefully than Bill had, hovered very close to where Harry was and carefully scooped him into his arms. Harry latched onto him and hid his face in Severus’ robe, feeling safe for the first time in five days.

~

Severus carefully landed the broom, which was more difficult when his balance was completely thrown off by the child clung to his side. Harry was extremely dehydrated, possibly had heat stroke, and was certainly very agitated.

“What,” Severus hissed, “exactly happened to make Harry so upset?”

Molly sighed and looked at the lump in Severus’ arms with pity.

“He hasn’t been settling in well, Severus. He’s a very sweet child, but he tried to run away on his second day here, then refused to speak until today.”

“Refused to speak, or couldn’t speak?” Severus queried, “And what changed today?”

“See, this is the problem,” Molly said, almost guiltily, “I do have seven other children, and there are only so many hours in a day. Albus didn’t tell me about anything much so we really didn’t know that Harry would have additional medical needs or need a lot of time.”

“And what happened?” Severus demanded.

“Fred and George locked him in a cupboard to get him to speak,” Molly sighed, “They’ve been appropriately punished, but I didn’t watch my words enough when I was scolding them and Harry got very upset and just... apparated to the roof.”

“And you couldn’t get him down?”

“He just kept crying for you and flinched away when Bill tried to fly up to get him.”

Harry tightened his grip on Severus’ robe and whimpered. He looked barely conscious, Severus would be surprised if he could hear anything going on around him.

“We can continue this conversation once Harry’s hydrated,” he said coldly, “But I don’t think it sounds like he’s happy here.”

“I would agree, Severus,” Molly nodded, “He’s very sweet and I think he and Ginny get on very well, but some of my children already have problems with the amount of time I can spend with them. I’m only one woman, and there’s only so much time in a day. I can’t give Harry what he needs.”

“I’m taking him to Poppy,” Severus sighed, trying to disguise genuine panic and worry, “And we can talk further if you wish, but I truly do not think that it is in Harry’s best interests for him to stay here.”

“I think you’re right, Severus, and I don’t think Albus is the right person to choose where he goes. He gave me no details and it was basically a five minute conversation where he called in a million favors.”

Severus glowered.

“A child is not a piece to be bargained for,” he grumbled, “Molly, I understand you truly tried to care for Harry, and I’m thankful for your efforts.”

“Severus, if I may, I think Harry would be happiest with you.”

Severus pulled Harry protectively closer, only proving Molly’s point.

“I don't know if I live a lifestyle fit for children,” he said, pained, “I worry I would mess up a child.”

“You clearly care for him greatly,” Molly insisted, “And you’re the only person he currently trusts.”

“My job-”

“Everyone knows you hate your job, Severus,” she said, in her ‘stern mother’ voice, “You are a potions master, that could be a career in and of itself. I’m not saying you must, but I really think you want to care for him. I saw it in how you acted five days ago, and I’m seeing it again now.”

A small boy of perhaps eight or nine stepped out from behind Molly’s skirts.

“He cried every night and woke early with nightmares and then called your name,” he mumbled, “Harry was very sad.”

Severus hitched Harry further up on his hip and gently checked the boy’s temperature with the back of his hand.

“I... will see if I can resign with this short notice,” Severus conceded, strangely glad for the meddling. He felt that otherwise, he would’ve forced himself to hand Harry off to a different family the next morning.

Instead, Severus went straight to Poppy. She fussed over Harry’s poor condition, gave him three glasses of water, a rehydration potion, a temperature reduction potion and a mild sleep potion, since Severus told her Harry’s sleep wasn’t improving. She sent them off with a knowing look and Severus returned to Spinner’s End, once again with a house guest.

He laid Harry down in the guest bed and tucked him under the covers. Severus brushed hair away from Harry’s sticky forehead and gently stroked his cheek.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.

~

Harry woke up from a deep sleep feeling a bit ill and quite tired. He sat up and looked around, and realised with a mixture of emotions that he was back in Severus’ guest room. On one hand, Harry felt incredibly glad to see the man he missed so much again.

On the other hand, he was quite hurt that he had been rejected by yet another family, and probably would be by the next.

Harry pressed his duvet up to his face and tried not to cry like a baby again.

“Little One? Are you okay?”

Harry looked to the doorway, saw Severus there... and felt safe.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “I really don’t know.”

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need the bathroom?” Severus asked with clinical detachment. Harry shook his head three times. Severus’ poker face changed to something softer and he stepped in from the doorway.

“Do you want a hug?”

Harry nodded and reached out. Severus picked him up and Harry wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck and his legs around his waist, like a backpack but backwards, and human. Harry buried his face in the crook of Severus’ neck and, again, felt tears start to form in his eyes.

“Please don’t make me leave,” he whispered brokenly.

“I’m sorry I sent you away in the first place,” Severus replied.

~

Severus carried Harry down the stairs and into the kitchen, which was a bit dirty. He had been neglecting the dishes for the past while, but he didn’t want to give Harry some sort of nervous breakdown so he awkwardly waved his wand (past the koala clinging to him) to make the dishes start cleaning and putting themselves away. Severus usually preferred to cook and clean by hand, but desperate times.

Harry had calmed down considerably by the time Severus had magically prepared a small meal and set the table for two.

“Do you want something to eat?” Severus offered, “And orange juice.”

Harry let Severus put him down at the table. He sniffled and shook his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry for making you come and get me,” he whispered, “I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“You’re not a bother,” Severus stated, “I was not upset to retrieve you, I was upset that you were stuck on the roof and crying.”

Harry gasped for air, as his chest was tight.

“I’m, I’m, I’m sorry for d-doing that freakish th-thing, I didn’t d-do it on purpose,” he visibly choked out, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“You’re not a freak, and accidental magic isn’t something bad. All young magical children have accidental magic, you have done nothing wrong, Child.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered again, “I didn’t mean to.”

Severus pulled him into another hug and resisted the urge to murder Petunia Dursley.

“I know, Harry. Nobody is angry at you.”

“You p-promise?”

“I promise.”

~

Harry was back on the couch, clinging to Severus’s arm and leaning against him. He was so tired, even after what Severus had told him was eleven hours of sleep. He felt... calmer than he had in years.

Until the old guy from before- Dumbledore, Harry remembered- stepped out of the fire. Harry immediately tightened his grip on Severus’ arm, terrified that he was being sent away again.

“Hello Severus,” Dumbledore said, with the same kindly twinkle in his eyes, “Back here again?”

“Indeed, Albus,” Severus said coldly, “Because you didn’t tell Molly any details about Harry’s situation and put him in the care of people who weren’t able to support someone with his needs, financially or otherwise.”

Harry bit his lip to keep it from wobbling. He knew the Weasleys didn’t really want him, knew that he was burdening them.

“You shouldn’t have placed either the Weasleys or Harry in that situation! Molly Weasley is way too nice, and she was very upset that she couldn’t properly care for Harry or earn his trust!”

Dumbledore’s twinkly, smiley face faltered for just a second.

“Well Severus, it’s only been five days. You can’t expect everything to settle this quickly,” Albus scolded. He’s going to send me back, he’s going to send me back-

“I don’t care if it’s only been five days, you old coot. He felt unsafe enough to apparate at the age of eight, you cannot just dismiss that.”

“He apparated? Well done, Harry! That’s very unusual, you know.”

Harry shrank away from him. He didn’t want to be unusual. Severus had said that ‘accidental magic’ was normal among young wizards, Harry didn’t want to be different even in the magical world.

“You’re focusing on the wrong part! Think about how much danger he perceived, Albus! He was stuck on the roof for an hour!”

“I realise I should have told Molly more information, and I will give more information next time to truly find someone else who’s suitable-”

“No,” Severus interrupted, glaring at Dumbledore, “You have made one truly atrocious decision about Harry’s care, then you made another badly informed decision that ended up with him physically unwell. You are not fit to made decisions for his care, and I don’t think you should even be in loco parentis as a headmaster if you’re going to make such terrible decisions about these things.”

“Severus, may I remind you everything I have done for you-”

“No! You did the same thing to me and ignored me when I came to you for help with my own home life. I am officially handing in my resignation and I will be reporting you to the Board of Management. I didn’t realise how idiotic you were, Albus Percival Wolfrick Brian Dumbledore. Not please leave my property and don’t come back unannounced.”

Harry was quite impressed by how quietly scary Severus could be.

“After everything I’ve done for you, Severus? I expected better of you.”

Dumbledore left in what Harry would call a huff, and Severus turned his attention to Harry. Harry avoided hid eye contact, and unlike a lot of other people, Severus didn’t force it. Harry liked that.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that,” Severus sighed, “You shouldn’t be forced to listen to this sort of thing.”

“But your job...” Harry whispered, “I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“I hate my job,” Severus scoffed, “I quite famously hate my job. I thought I owed Albus to stay on because of some things he’s done for me, but something’s come up in my life recently and I don’t want to be away all the time anymore.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, but then realised that if Dumbledore wasn’t going to be deciding who was lumped with him next, who was? Don’t ask questions.

Harry climbed properly into Severus’ lap and rested his head on the man’s chest, wanting desperately to be hugged again, feeling quite needy and scared.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” Harry asked tentatively, “Who’s going to... put me in the next place?”

“If you want, I can find a family for you to go to,” Severus said in a strange voice, “Maybe someone without children, or with only one or two. Molly and Arthur are very nice, but I think you need someone who can... pay attention.”

Why can’t you pay attention?

“I don’t want to be annoying and needy,” Harry mumbled, even while feeling quite needy.

“Everyone is annoying and needy,” Severus said bluntly, eliciting a shocked laugh from Harry.

“No they’re not,” he giggled, “that’s mean!”

“It’s a fact that everyone in the world needs love and attention. There’s no such thing as a person who isn’t annoying sometimes either. I know I spend a lot of time irritating my ex-coworkers and students,” Severus said, almost like a lecture. Harry frowned and shook his head.

“I don’t think you’re annoying,” he insisted, “You’re too nice!”

Severus laughed and patted Harry on the head.

“I’m nice to you, Little One. I am not a generally liked person.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“They’re all butts,” he stated.

“Mind your language,” Severus reprimanded, but he was smiling and Harry wasn’t frightened of the scolding.

“You sweared at Mr.Dumbledore earlier though,” he pointed out.

“Swore,” Severus corrected, and left it at that.

After a full day of doing very little, Harry went to bed feeling warm and full and comfortable. He didn’t cry himself to sleep, he just drifted off slowly and felt quite happy.

However, he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, heart thundering in his ears. His head ached and after a shocked second of processing the awful nightmare he’d just woken up from, he started crying violently. He was back in the cupboard, terrified and hiding from his uncle. Harry sat up pin-straight and choked on air.

‘You weak, disgusting boy,’ dream-Vernon had bellowed, ‘You don’t deserve a family.’

Harry hugged his sides and rocked forwards and backwards, sobs wracking his frame.

Uncle Vernon swung his belt at Harry and missed by a hair’s breadth.

Harry slid out of bed and started pacing, feeling restless and prickly and scared. He alternated between flapping his hands and scrubbing tears away from his eyes.

“Harry?”

Harry whirled around to see a groggy Severus stood in the doorway. Unlike the last night he’d woken Severus, Harry didn’t apologise for anything. Instead, he sought out the comfort he had been craving and collapsed into the man’s chest. Severus immediately hugged him tight and stooped down, enveloping Harry in a comforting and warm embrace.

“Did you have another bad dream, Child?” Severus whispered, voice quiet even though there was no-one else in the house to wake. Harry nodded tearfully and hiccuped.

“I’m sorry you had a nightmare, Little One. It wasn’t real though, and you’re safe. I will never lay a hand on you.”

Harry shuddered and flapped his hands, muffling his sobs.

“Don’t be frightened, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Severus soothed, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Harry liked being told it would be okay.

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered. Severus picked him up and carried him into the kitchen, where he made two mugs of hot chocolate and levitated them as he made his way over to the living room and sat down on the couch, with Harry still clung to him.

“Do you want hot chocolate? It’ll make you feel better,” Severus offered. Harry turned around in his lap and reached out with shaking hands to wrap his fingers around the warm mug.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and took a shaky sip of the hot chocolate. It was warm and comforting and very sweet. Harry loved it- he’d never had such nice hot chocolate before. He’d only ever had it twice before, and those were just leftover bits in the pot from when Aunt Petunia made it for Dudley.

(Aunt Petunia wasn’t a very good cook.)

~

Severus didn’t press Harry to go back to bed. He let the small boy sit in his lap and savor his hot chocolate. He knew that nightmares were horrible, and he felt bad that Harry had been having nightmares the whole time he’d been at the Weasley’s.

Harry eventually fell asleep at around three, head resting on Severus’ shoulder. Severus slowly stood up, careful not to jostle Harry, and carried him to the guest room. He carefully tucked him in and brushed his wild hair out of his eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Little One,” he whispered, then returned to his own room. He would figure everything out in the morning.

~

Harry woke up in the morning feeling the most rested he had in months. He usually couldn’t get back to sleep after nightmares, so that had been the best night he’d had in... forever, perhaps. Harry didn’t wake up until eight- much, much later than usual- and when he carefully tiptoed into the kitchen, he saw that Severus was already up and making french toast.

“Good morning,” Severus said, “Do you like French Toast?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry mumbled, “Sorry I slept late.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for sleeping.”

“I wasn’t able to make breakfast,” Harry said, brows furrowed.

“You don’t have to make breakfast,” Severus said, “You’re only eight.”

Harry shook his head and rose up to his tiptoes, flicking his fingers at his sides.

"But you’re letting me stay here and you stayed awake with me, and you gave me hot chocolate, and you gave out to your boss and quit your job and-”

“It’s okay,” Severus insisted, cutting off Harry’s distressed listing, “You deserve all of this and more. You don’t need to make breakfast for me because I’m letting you stay- and I’m not letting you stay. I want you here, Harry.”

Then why can’t I stay forever?

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing you have to say sorry for,” Severus reassured, and served Harry a plate of French toast. Harry thanked him, while wondering if he was saying ‘thank you’ too much. He ate the French toast- which was lovely- quietly.

The happy warm feeling he’d had earlier was slowly disappearing as he realised that he was probably going to be leaving that day.

Harry didn’t want to leave.

Severus sat down across from Harry with a serious expression.

“I need to talk to you about what sort of family you want too take you in.”

Harry really really didn’t want to leave. His heart sank and he poked a few crumbs around his plate with his fork.

“What do you want to know?” he said despondently.

“Do you want other children around?”

Harry shook his head- only more people to be scared of, and he didn’t want to steal parents away from their children, like he had with Ron and his siblings.

“Do you want to go to a wizarding family?”

Harry shrugged.

“Do you actually know anyone who you want to take care of you?”

You!

“Dunno,” Harry grumbled.

“Do you have any food or animal allergies?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

“Are you scared of any pets like dogs, cats, birds, etcetera?”

Harry shook his head.

“Do you want a pet, if possible?”

Harry shrugged- he’d never really considered having a pet.

“Okay... is there anything in particular you... want in a parental figure?”

Harry put his fork down and sniffled. He didn’t want some random stranger to take care of him. He wanted to stay here. In Spinner’s End, with Severus, who called him ‘Little One’ and ‘Child’ and gave him hot chocolate and told him he didn’t have to make breakfast.

“What’s wrong?” Severus asked, immediately concerned. Harry rubbed his eyes and tried to speak past the lump in his throat, but he just shook his head and stood up, feeling the only thing he could do was run and hide. Harry hid under his duvet and wished he wasn’t so terrified of the space under the bed, because that was a much better hiding place than on the bed.

Completely proven by the fact that Severus found him within a minute and pulled his duvet away from his teary face.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Harry. I just want to find you a good family to live with. Did I say something to upset you?”

“I d-don’t want a new family,” Harry sobbed, “I don’t want to go meet a new family and have to get to know new people and I don’t want to leave!”

“Leave where? The Burrow? Your relatives?” Severus questioned, looking a bit confused.

“Here!” Harry said, finally admitting it in his emotional state, “I want to stay here with you and I don’t want to leave and I’m being so greedy, because you’re already being so nice to me but I still missed you the whole time I was at the Burrow!”

Harry breathed heavily, seeing Severus’ shocked expression and immediately felt regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, choking on tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m being selfish and you’re just being nice and don’t want to have to deal with me, I just latched on to you and you were the nicest anyone’s ever been to me... I’m sorry.”

Severus pulled Harry into a tight hug.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel so unwanted. I never would’ve imagined in a million years that you would want me to be your guardian. If it’s really what you want, I would love to be your guardian. This can be your room, we can paint it any colour and fill it with frivolities and a million blankets. If you want, this can be your home,”

“Really?” Harry whispered disbelievingly, “You’re not just saying that?”

“I promise.”

Harry hid his face in Severus’ shoulder and smiled into his robe.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “Thank you so much.”

And so, early in the morning on a random day of the week, Harry gained a guardian, and Severus gained a son, both the happiest they had ever been.