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Severus sat in his usual place in the park; in the shade beneath the big maple tree that he had climbed as a child, on the bench he had repaired only weeks ago.
In fact, many things in the park and surrounding area had been recently repaired. The river was far less polluted and mostly just muddy now. The grass was well-watered and green. The playground was no longer rusted and falling apart, but shiny and painted. The creek that ran through the park and the thin strip of woods behind it was clear and packed with life. And it was all because of little Harry Potter.
When Severus had done a welfare check on Harry, and subsequently taken him from his home, the few remaining, aging residents of Spinner’s End noticed.
Of course, anybody would notice if the dark, mysterious stranger that stayed holed up in his house and was gone half the year was suddenly hauling around a bright-eyed six-year-old boy.
On a random Sunday, dozens of residents of the town and a bunch of members of a church from the next neighborhood over came flooding into Spinner’s End. They had cleaned up trash, watered all the plants in public areas, and even fixed the playground. They had stayed for hours, with each of them telling Severus that his child deserved a nice place to play when he asked, in astonishment, why they were doing it.
It was only after the final old lady had patted Harry on the head, said goodbye, and toddled off to her house in the late afternoon light that Severus realized he had never once refuted the claim that Harry was his.
Once they were all gone. Severus had done a bit of magic here or there, just to strengthen all the changes made, fix the bench, and clean up the creek and the river. The whole time, Harry had tried to help, and Severus had only continuously told him to go play.
Eventually, Harry had. He had whizzed down the slide, swung high on the swings, whipped around and around on the merry-go-round, and looked like he was the happiest he had ever been while doing it.
That had been the first day Severus had sat in the shade of the maple tree and watched his son play, and that had been the day that Severus had decided to bring Harry to that playground whenever he possibly could, just to see his bright, beaming smile.
So, now Severus had the luxury and joy of sitting on a nice, painted bench, smelling clean air on the gentle breeze, watching a boy made of pure happiness splash around in the creek. It was more perfect than any life he could have ever imagined for himself.
“Da!” squealed a tiny voice from only a foot away.
Severus put down his book and looked at his son.
“What is it, Harry?”
“I caught a frog!” Harry half-shouted, half-laughed, clearly overjoyed that he had been able to do so.
“Oh? May I see him?” Severus asked with what he was sure was a disgusting amount of affection in his voice.
The little boy lifted his hands, where- not a frog, but a toad- was gently clutched. He grinned.
“See, da?” The boy inquired.
“Mmm yes, I do see. That, however, is not a frog. It is a toad. See the shorter legs and smaller eyes?” Severus answered.
Harry tilted the toad backwards so that he was making awkward eye contact with it, looking at it with utmost curiosity. Severus felt a wave of fondness overcome him with such force that it almost brought tears to his eyes. Was this what people meant when they said they felt like their hearts were overflowing?
“Ohhh ok.” Harry murmured, now looking warily at the creature, “But don’t you get warts from touching toads?”
“Toads are also poisonous-” Harry's head snapped up and he looked terribly alarmed, “No, no, not dangerous. Just enough that it will make your hands itchy if I don’t wash them soon. So why don’t you let the toad go and rinse your hands in the stream? Then I’ll wash them up properly with magic.”
As always when Severus mentioned using magic, Harry’s eyes widened and filled with anticipation. The little boy then nodded his head vigorously, tromped back over to the creek, released the toad, and held his hands in the running water. Severus watched him with a small smile on his face for a moment, then called him back.
“Alright, that’s enough, let me wash those hands.”
Harry practically sprinted over and held his hands out, clearly eager to see magic. Severus, who could not bear to let him down, dramatically flourished his wand and made a real show out of a simple cleaning spell.
Harry watched transfixed, then looked at his hands like they were the most awesome thing in the world after Severus had finished.
“All clean. You may go back to playing.”
The boy grinned up at him.
“Thanks, da!”
Severus waved him off and pretended to go back to his book as Harry started clambering around the money bars and jungle gym again. It wasn’t long until Severus stopped pretending to read, however, and just watched his son.
The boy, only six, had such a brightness about him that Severus was sure he could light up the rainiest day. He had suffered the loss of his parents and five years of abuse at the hands of his relatives, and yet, he was still so full of curiosity, joy, and light. Not only was he still miraculously happy, but he had somehow made Severus happy. It was almost unbelievable to the man.
But as he sat beneath the shade of his favorite childhood tree, felt the cool breeze drift over his face, and watched his son have the most fun a child could have, Severus found himself truly believing that he and Harry could have the life they both deserved.