Work Text:
16. Sick while camping
Harry had been looking forward to his camping trip with the Weasleys for weeks, but when he woke up the morning of the trip, there was an anxious roiling in his stomach that he found hard to ignore. Since becoming Severus’ ward, Harry spent summers with Severus at Spinners End. He was allowed to visit his friends under Severus’ care, a fact he was over the moon about, and Ron had suggested going on a camping trip. Arthur and Molly took the family to a lakeside campground every summer, and this year Harry had been invited, much to his excitement. So why on earth was he feeling nervous about going?
“How did you sleep?” Severus asked as Harry entered the kitchen for breakfast.
Harry sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. “Fine.”
Severus glanced up from the Daily Prophet at Harry’s one word answer. “What’s the matter?”
“I feel… Never mind. It’s silly.” Harry blushed and stirred his tea.
Setting the paper down, Severus focused on Harry. “I always like to hear how you’re feeling, silly or not.”
Harry sighed and looked up at Severus. “I’m feeling very anxious about camping with the Weasleys.”
“Do you know why you’re feeling this way?”
“I’ve never been camping before. I think that’s it.”
Severus nodded. “Well, I’ve only been once or twice, but it’s nothing like camping in the muggle world. I’m sure you’ll have a great deal of fun.”
“I know.” Harry sipped his tea. He was afraid to admit that he’d miss Severus while he was gone. Homesickness wasn’t really something Harry’d ever experienced before. It seemed silly to admit that this was his first time for that, too.
“Once you’ve eaten we can Floo over to the Burrow. I bet that when you’re with Ron you’ll forget all about your anxiety.”
Severus was correct, and as soon as Harry was surrounded by the Weasley children he felt much better about camping. “See you in a few days,” Harry said as he hugged Severus goodbye.
“See you then. Have fun. Be safe. You can always come home if you change your mind about being there.” Severus hugged him back and squeezed him extra tight for a moment at the end, conveying the words that neither of them wanted to say. I love you.
“Okay. Thanks.” Harry pulled away and smiled at his guardian as the Weasleys bustled him over to where they’d gathered with their suitcases and backpacks.
“Ready?” Ron asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.
Harry nodded and gripped the strap of his bag. “How are we getting there?”
“Floo. Dad already set up the tent so we pop up right inside!” Ron motioned for Harry to step forward and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder. “Lake campsite!” He said clearly, throwing the powder into the flames and disappearing.
Harry followed suit and appeared inside what looked almost exactly like the Burrow. Ron was dumping his bag on a bottom bunk bed and pulling off his jumper. “Come on! I want to swim!” Harry copied Ron and dug through his bag for his swimming trunks.
“Bathroom is over here,” Ron said, showing Harry the door. “I’ll change after you.”
Harry quickly changed into his bathing suit and carried his clothes back to his bag. “I, er, forgot a towel.”
“No worries,” Ron called through the bathroom door. “There’s extras in here.” He brought one out once he was changed and handed it to Harry. “Ready?”
Harry nodded and followed Ron out of the tent, amazed to find that they were camped on the shore of a beautiful, remote lake. There wasn’t a soul around except for the Weasleys, and Harry felt a little unsettled at that.
“Isn’t it stunning here?” Ron smiled at the view and looked at his friend to see his reaction.
“It’s amazing.” Harry set his towel on a big rock on the shore and let his toes touch the water. It was a nice temperature—not too hot or too cold—and sighed.
“Bombs away!” George and Fred yelled from behind Harry as they sprinted towards the water. They made a ginormous splash as they hit the surface, and Harry laughed and followed them in.
Hours later, Harry entered the tent with the rest of the Weasley children exhausted and pruny.
“Supper is just about ready. You all go dry off and change,” Molly instructed, smiling at her family.
Harry followed Ron to their bunkbed and pulled out his pajamas. Fred and George also had a bunkbed in their room and they grabbed their clothes and ran back out, leaving Ron and Harry alone together.
“That was a great day,” Harry said, wrapping his towel around his waist and shimmying out of his bathing suit. He pulled on a pair of underwear and his pajama bottoms and then unwrapped his towel and hung it off the bedpost to dry.
“It was!” Ron did the same and soon they were rushing to get a seat at the dinner table.
Harry let the normalcy of a Weasley meal wash over him, and before he knew it, his eyelids were growing heavy.
“Harry, go on to bed, dear. You look worn out,” Molly said as she cleared his plate.
“I’m okay,” Harry replied with a smile.
Ron yawned. “I’m beat, too. Come on.” He led Harry back to their room and they crawled into bed, the bunkbed creaking and groaning as they wiggled around to get comfortable. “I hope you don’t fall through onto me. No one usually sleeps up there.”
Harry laughed and set his glasses on the pillow beside him. “I’ll try my best not to crush you.”
The next day was spent in the same manner, but Harry felt a little more subdued. He was exhausted from the previous day despite sleeping like a rock, and he had a nervous feeling crawling up into his chest. At the dinner table that night, Fred leaned over to talk with him quietly.
“Doing okay?”
Harry nodded, yawning. “Tired.”
Fred smirked at him and glanced at Molly, who was watching the interaction closely. “Wait until tomorrow. There’s a big cookout and fireworks before we go back home. A whole shebang.”
“Fireworks? Magical ones?” Harry had never seen magical fireworks before, only the muggle kind.
Fred nodded. “They’re way better than the ones you grew up with, trust me.”
When Harry crawled into bed later that night, his excitement for the fireworks was clouded with anxiety again. It felt like his heart was racing and beating up into his throat, his head ached, and, if he was honest with himself, he kind of wanted a chat with Severus. A strange feeling rose up in Harry’s chest at the thought of Severus. He missed him. A lot. Suddenly, the thought of going to sleep seemed impossible despite how tired he felt. Tears were burning his eyes, and he rolled over roughly to try and get his mind off of missing Severus.
Tossing and turning did nothing to help Harry sleep. After an hour or so, he gave up trying and quietly climbed down from his top bunk and crept into the kitchen. He froze when he saw that Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table reading.
“Harry?” Molly noticed him.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t sleep.”
Molly waved him over and pulled out the chair beside her. “How about some warm milk?”
Harry nodded meekly and sat, folding his hands on his lap as Molly conjured a mug of heated milk with a little bit of honey mixed in.
“Everything okay?” Arthur asked, making eye contact with his wife while Harry took a sip of the milk.
“Mhmm. Great,” Harry replied. The milk tasted good and made his chest ache a little less.
“It’s okay if you’re missing Severus,” Molly said quietly, resting a hand on the back of Harry’s neck, her fingers playing with his hair.
Harry bit his lip before his chin could quiver. “I’ve never been homesick before,” he admitted.
Molly’s eyes softened. “I imagine you’ve never had a home to miss. Or anyone like Severus, for that matter.”
Nodding, Harry took another sip of milk to distract himself. He really did miss home, so much so that it was like there was an ache in his chest. “I’m okay.”
Molly pulled Harry into a hug and rocked him back and forth for a moment. “I know. You’ve always been so brave.” She kissed the top of his head and felt her heart warm when he didn’t pull away.
Harry stayed wrapped in Molly’s arms as he finished his warm milk, and by the time the mug was empty he was feeling a little less homesick. “Think I’ll go back to bed now,” he said quietly. “Thanks for the milk.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Let us know if you need us.”
“Goodnight, Harry,” Arthur said, patting Harry’s shoulder as he walked by to go back to his room.
“Night.” Harry quietly climbed back into bed and curled up under his blankets, trying to imagine what a magical firework looked like. He was asleep before he could come up with an answer.