Severus watches Potter rub at his cheek for the umpteenth time, not that he's watching. Technically, he's brewing and Potter is reading, but he can see him just fine. Perhaps there's something wrong with the boy's teeth? 15 seems a little young for wisdom teeth to come in, but it's Potter—nothing is impossible. Once the reaction from the catalyst settles, he wanders over to the phone and flips through the local directory until he finds the number he's looking for.

"Madainn mhath."

"I need to make an appointment for my son," Severus replies, too tired to translate the entire sentence.

"Cuine?"

"You're earliest available is fine."

"Feasgar an-diugh. Thè e leth-uair an dèidh trì. De an t-ainm a tha air?"

"Heilyn Camshron. We'll be there at half-three. Tapadh leibh." He hangs up and goes suddenly pale. They'll need Eachann's car to get to Stornoway, or he'll have to risk apparating. Eachann is the least-risky option. He picks up the phone again and dials by memory.

"Hello?"

Severus pauses before speaking, unsure if it's one of the grandchildren or an adult. "Madainn mhath. Eachann?"

"This is Cormac. Uncle Severus?"

"Yes," Severus replies smoothly. Thankfully, Cormac, like the other young ones, speaks solid English. "Ask ur seanair if I might have his car this afternoon."

"Seanair?" the boy calls. "Uncle Severus needs the car." Severus taps his foot while he listens to the exchange. Children really are a nuisance. "He says yes, but you aren't to leave until he's seen Heilyn." The line goes dead.

Severus' hand shakes slightly as he hangs up the phone. His nieces and nephews have no manners to speak of, whatsoever. If Potter ever speaks like that, he'll probably give him a good smack. Speaking of, Potter is glaring at him over his book in a way that Severus can only assume is meant to be subtle.

"We're going into town later," he calls as he returns to brewing.

-:

He and Potter apparate to the barn across from Eachann's home. It's been empty for years, more than years, a lifetime. Thankfully, the children are mindful enough not to snog… or heaven forbid shag where Eachann might catch them. Potter looks around in awe, like he's never seen a barn before. Perhaps he hasn't.

Potter acts amazed the entire walk across the street. The view is certainly gorgeous, but it is so cold Severus has it half-in-mind to run. But that would be immature.

"I love it here," Potter whispers, a stupid grin on his face despite the wind.

"Indeed."

When they enter the house, Potter hides behind him, wisely buying himself a few extra moments to compose. The house is the same as when Severus arrived for the first time 24 years ago. Sheets hang on the bannisters and atlases clutter the stairs. There are keys and hats on the entry table. Eachann and Marsali are the same—a happily married old couple. Older now, but still happy.

He takes the car keys off the table, tempted to ignore Eachann's caveat that he see Potter for a moment. Only a moment, though—he would never disrespect Athair like that. The keys find home in his jacket pocket and he leads Potter into the kitchen.

"Feasgar math, Marsali," he says when the woman reading a magazine at the table looks up at them.

"Severus," she responds quietly as she strains her neck to look around him. "That's him?"

Severus gives a single nod as he pushes Potter forward. The boy moves hesitantly and pulls at his sweater. "This is Heilyn."

Potter clears his throat and rocks up on the balls of his feet. "Hi… Mrs. Camshron."

Her eyes narrow and Severus wonders if she'll ask to be called seanmhair. It wasn't until he was fully grown that she encouraged him to call her 'Marsali.' Until then, it was Mrs. Camshron… and Mr. Camshron. The one time he'd called Eachann 'Athair' in front of her, Eachann had actually beat him.

"You may call me seanmhair, if you wish Heilyn." She smiles and then moves her gaze to the ceiling. "Eachann!"

They hear thudding on the stairs and a moment later Eachann is there. "Heilyn," he says as he pats the boy's shoulder. "Sit, sit." As he leads Potter to the table, he throws a look over his shoulder that Severus knows only too well. Leave. I don't want you here right now.

He returns to the entryway and, on impulse, takes the stairs. During the breaks he spent here, he always shared with Alisdair, the eldest of Eachann and Marsali's children. His things never hung on the walls or occupied anything more than his trunk, so it never felt like his room, but he stops in the door anyways. It's a room for the grandchildren now, but Alisdair's things still hang on the walls—his old posters and trophies, things his parents are proud of.

Potter will probably be welcome in this room; Potter's achievements will probably be praised, just like the other grandchildren. Marsali will never be warm toward him, will never forgive finding out about Eachann's love child, having to take him in, but the idea of a grandchild from Severus is removed. Potter isn't a blight on her relationship.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice Potter until it's too late to pretend he isn't staring wistfully. "It's a nice room," Potter says as he looks over Severus' shoulder.

"It isn't mine," Severus says as he pushes off the doorframe. "Hurry up."

Instead of scraping the windshield, or ordering Potter to do it, Severus waits for it to defrost. He'll have to stop for petrol anyways. His elbow rests on the window and he grips the wheel tightly. Albus adores Potter; Eachann and Marsali adore Potter. Potter, Potter, Potter. He pulls the car out and notices the book in Potter's lap. A present?

The roads wind and aren't always clearly marked, but the drive is thoughtless. Potter's face is pressed against the window, quietly observing. "I'm taking you to the dentist," Severus says.

"Why?"

"Your face is clearly bothering you," He slows to accommodate a few children playing in the street. They move out of his way quickly, politely. "When did you last see a dentist?"

Potter shrugs and runs his finger over the book's spine. "I haven't, ever." He clears his throat. "Whose room was that?"

Severus grips the wheel tighter, his knuckles white, and swallows his desire to reprimand Potter for asking. "Alisdair's. I shared with him whenever I was here."

"Then it was your room too."

"Hardly. I only slept there." He frowns, overwhelmed with an odd thought. He's not let Potter decorate, mostly because it would be an invasion of his personal space. That room is his office, not the bedroom of a teenager. "I will not permit anything childish, but if you would like to hang a poster in your room I suppose that would be acceptable."

The typical stupid grin appears on Potter's face and he raises his hand, subconsciously, to his cheek. "I don't really know any bands. Do you have a… a turntable, or anything?" Severus nods. "Who's your favorite?"

"Fleetwood Mac."

Potter returns to pressing his face against the window. "You'll have to show me sometime."

They're in Stornoway after just half-an-hour, and Potter, very unfortunately, calls out each church as they pass it. He parks the car and waits for Potter to say something. The boy's always got something to say, after all.

"Is he going to hurt me?" Potter whispers.

A rational fear. Severus himself never saw a dentist until he needed his wisdom teeth removed. His parents weren't the type to fund 'unnecessary' things, like doctors and dentists. Tobias only ever funded his own drinking and smoking.

"You will doubtless need crowns, fillings, and your wisdom teeth removed. I'm not sure if he'll feel comfortable doing it all at once. And yes, it will hurt for days, but oral care is necessary." He scowls, for once regretting that it sounds like he's lecturing. "You'll be fine." He practically jumps out of the car, not interested in comforting Potter anymore than he already has.

He doesn't wait to be sure that Potter is coming and goes straight in. "Feasgar math, seo tha Heilyn Camshron."

"Aye, Heilyn Camshron," the secretary repeats as he hands over a clipboard. "Yer son?"

Severus holds it in a firm grip and stares at it. Playing daddy to Potter hasn't felt real up until this point, but as he fills in information for his son, he has to withhold a shudder. "Aye," he says. Potter seats himself with a thud in the chair next to the surgery, but Severus cannot stand to look at him long enough to yell. He quickly fills out the paperwork, returns it to the secretary, and takes the time to look him over—decently tall, muscular, nice lips. A blush rises in his cheeks and he turns on his heel. It's Lewis, there aren't any other queers… at least not any that aren't self-loathing and closeted.

The secretary looks up at him every-now-and-then and Severus realizes he's hovering. "Ciamar a tha sibh?" He asks the younger man, as if it's going to make this less awkward.

"Guid," the secretary says as he leans his elbows on the desk. "I'm Luag, by the wey. Wha are you?"

"Severus," he replies slowly. "It's a pleasure, Loo-ak." Luag: it's a nice name, a name that feels foreign on his lips. The dentist takes Potter back with little fuss and Severus is glad to be rid of him. "Are you from the mainland?" he asks.

Luag nods as he runs his finger over the days date in the appointment book. "Aye. You wantin a cuppa?"

"That would be lovely," Severus gives the best smile he can manage.

-:

£244.30 later, he's got a partially sedated Potter curled up in the passenger seat. The boy needed four fillings and two crowns, which they'll have to come back for in a few days. Until then, it's temporaries. The tooth decay explains away all the irritation in Potter's face, and the headaches.

He drives home first, in silence. "Heilyn?" When the boy doesn't answer, he walks around to the other side of the car and drags Potter out. Potter walks with him, a little uneasy on his feet but mostly fine.

"Hurts," Potter mutters.

"I know," Severus says as he pulls back the bed sheets. He settles Potter under the sheets and the boy grips his shirt tightly. "In the twinkling of an eye, in a moment, all is changed," he says.

Used to being put to sleep this way, Potter lets go and curls up. "Good boy." Severus settles into his usual place on the edge of the mattress. "In the twinkling of an eye, in a moment, all is changed: on a small radiant screen (honeydew melon green) are my scintillating bones. Still in my flesh I see the God who goes with me glowing with radioactive isotopes. This is what he at last allows a mortal eye to behold: the grand supporting frame complete (but for the wisdom teeth), the friend who lives beneath appearances, alive with light. Each glittering bone assures me: you are known."

Potter is asleep before he finishes.

-:

It isn't until he arrives at Eachann's house that he notices that book Potter was holding earlier sitting on the seat. He tucks in into his inside jacket pocket and hurries into the house. He needs to give the car back and get home before Potter thinks about getting himself into any trouble. He drops the keys on the table and yells, "Car's back," before hurrying toward the door.

"Severus!" Eachann growls.

He stops just short of the door and hunches his shoulders up. Whatever argument they're about to have regarding Potter is not going to go well. "Sir?"

Eachann scowls and leans against the opposite wall. "How is the boy?"

"He needed his teeth fixed and is naturally sore from all the work he had done today." Severus folds his hands behind his back and clears his throat. "Anything else?"

"No."

Severus storms the entire walk to the barn. He can't stand being jealous of Potter, but there it is. Eachann doesn't care how he is, just how Potter is. Severus is disposable; Potter is important. If only he could bring himself to punish the boy for it.