A/N: Thanks as always for reading!
Chapter:
Go away, Harry grumbled mentally as someone persistently called to him. He was comfortable and warm, a feeling that had been sparse in his short life. Why would he want to leave that safe haven? Sleep was supposed to afford one peace, an escape from reality, if only for a few hours. That had never been the case for him. His nights were filled with the words of his relatives, their message permeating even in his unconsciousness, so that he dreamt not fields of flowers and flying birds but situations. Situations in which he failed to reach the standards expected of one of his status, failures that led to grim reminders of what his status meant. Plagued by such feelings in both the dreamscape and reality, was it any wonder why he was so timid, so tentative to make a move when it could lead to something unpleasant?
Yes, those were the nights Harry James Potter was accustomed to and so this warm, calm feeling as he lazed in the in-between between sleep and wakefulness was strange. There was not the sense of forbearing that he usually felt in those last moments before wakefulness. No, there was only a sense of security, one that somehow muted the feelings he was much more familiar with. This feeling, he had only encountered it a handful of times so far, and all had been on those occasions when he had been tucked away into the headmaster's guest-room and the man had stayed with him until he slept, something that Harry believed prevented those harsh feelings.
Was that why he felt like this, he thought, even as his hand batted lazily at the person shaking his shoulder gently, calling to him once again. Was his headmaster near, his overpowering presence chasing away anything negative? Somehow, Harry did not think so, for something was not completely right. Because, strange as it may seem, Harry could not quite remember why his nights usually were so restless, why it was that he was afraid of wakening. He felt as if he was missing something, a thing he could not easily define and thus left him confused. But now that bothersome touch on his shoulder had transferred to his cheek and he recognised now that his smooth skin was being gently stroked, and as he breathed in, there was a scent of lemon, a fragrance associated with only one man he knew.
Yawning slightly, Harry's thoughts finally pushed him into wakefulness and as he blinked blearily, he tried to focus on the blurry person above him, whose face was slowly drawing backwards. Something white was hanging in front of the person. "C'ss time sir?" he mumbled out, in between a yawn as he struggled to sit up, the covers dropping slowly to his waist.
As he rubbed at his eyes he heard the man's light chuckle. "You are still asleep my boy," he said softly, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
His hand was warm, Harry thought as leaned into the caress, almost mewling when the man cupped his cheek tenderly. He was so kind to him, he mused idly. "M'sleep?" he mumbled again when the man's words finally caught up with his sleep-addled brain.
Another laugh met his words. "Yes asleep my boy. For you seem to have forgotten that with school on vacation there is no class for you to be late for." As he spoke he set Harry's glasses on his face, and with his vision cleared Harry finally realised where he was and his eyes widened.
"Sir!" he gasped out, the drowsiness leaving him abruptly. "I overslept, I'm sorry. I'll start on breakfast right away!" Harry moved to hop off the bed but was stopped by the firm hand the headmaster placed on his shoulder.
"Breakfast has already been made my child, there is no need to rush."
"I-I'm sorry," Harry stammered, his eyes widening. "It won't happen again."
"Oversleeping?" Albus asked curiously. "Think nothing of it. Which child is not entitled an extra hour or two in the holidays?"
"I meant breakfast sir," Harry pointed out. "I was suppose to make breakfast."
A slight frown creased the older wizard's face and Harry bit his lip nervously as a hint of fear curled in his stomach as he instinctively hoped that he would not be slapped too hard for his impertinence. Wait, what? Harry blinked at the thought that ran through his mind. Just where had he gotten the idea that the headmaster would slap his face from? His aunt would do that, he acknowledged, she doled out slaps to him with as much enthusiasm as she did hugs for her son. However, the headmaster had never ever slapped him, so what had he to fear from the man?
"We talked about this yesterday," the headmaster was saying presently. "Cooking is not your job."
"I'm supposed to do it," Harry countered automatically, the words flowing from him before he could really register what he was saying. "Meals are my duty. All chores are my responsibility because...because..."
Harry trailed off into silence as a look of confusion crossed his face, not even noticing the slightly strange look the headmaster bore on his own. What had he been going to say, he mused and where had he heard those words before? It seemed like something he should know. After a moment of hard concentration, his deceased Uncle's face loomed into view and Harry's brow furrowed. Uncle Vernon would say something like that. But why was it that he had unconsciously stressed on the word duty? It seemed like there was an entirely profound meaning attached to the word when he had stated it, but what it was, he did not understand.
Everything that needed doing in the household was his responsibility. His days started often before the crack of dawn and ended after the last member of the household went to bed, no matter how late. It was the only way he could earn his keep after all. He was an extra burden forced upon their household. They had only planned for one child and of course it was not right that one of their own blood be denied because of him. Chores were one way of lessening the burden he placed upon them. He knew, understood and respected that. A family was a kind of team and every member had to contribute to keep the unit strong. The fact that he had to work a little harder was expected as he had never been factored in to the original plan.
"Why the grimace my child?" Albus asked seriously, drawing Harry away from his thoughts. The eleven year old blushed deeply, ashamed that he had kept the headmaster waiting while he had drifted off. "If you wish to sleep some more I will allow it."
"I'm fine sir," Harry said quickly, his voice soft but sure. It had taken some time, but he had grown used to be in such close proximity with the elder wizard. He was comfortable in the man's presence and felt safe. That was the primary reason that his stuttering was at a minimum at such times. "I just remembered something that's all. Is Professor Snape awake already?"
The headmaster did not seem fully reassured but nevertheless, he shook his head. "I have yet to check on him," he responded. "Both of my boys decided to sleep in today. Why don't you go ahead and freshen up? Breakfast will be waiting for you."
"I'm allowed breakfast?" Another unconscious statement, he mused, this time noticing the brief flash of some emotion in the professor's expression before it cleared. Just where were these words of his coming from? In the moments before the headmaster responded, his aunt's shrill voice raced through his mind as a random flash. Freaks don't eat boy! He stiffened, that tendril of fear from before rising up stronger than ever, but in a second, as the headmaster squeezed his shoulder lightly, it was gone.
"Of course you eat breakfast," he was informed. "Every meal is to be consumed understood? If you find yourself hungry between meals, all you have to do is ask and a snack will be prepared for you."
"Thank you sir," Harry smiled, surprising himself by launching forward so that he could squeeze the man's middle for several seconds. Although, as he walked into his bathroom, he wondered at just how grateful he had sounded.
Merlin, it was not as if he had been offered a pot of gold. It was just food! Well, he countered, as he showered quickly, his relatives were nitpicks and always harped about how much he ate. And it wasn't like he ate with them, no, that time was for standing in wait, ready to fetch whatever condiment or drink someone required. Sometimes what he eventually received barely amounted to scraps and his Uncle was always so quick to point out that it was more than he deserved.
Harry tousled his hair roughly with the towel, feeling completely invigorated after the warm bath. He cleaned his teeth with his usual thoroughness and rinsed, however, as he left the bathroom, he could not help but feel that he had forgotten something. He paused in the doorway and looked back. Shower, check. Loo, check. Teeth, check. So what was missing? In between dressing, he found himself absentmindedly walking back into the room, the niggling feeling there. The floor was slightly damp from where he had stepped out, but it wasn't like if he had flooded the place out. So therefore, that little tendril in the back of his mind, urging him to scrub the bathroom from top to bottom was unnecessary. Besides, it was a magical house, as the headmaster had told him. It cleaned itself.
Harry eyed the steps dubiously before he fairly flew down them. He trusted the headmaster, that much was true, but he was not completely sure he could put his faith in the house as of yet. He had had too many run-ins with Hogwarts' staircases that made him wary of the structures. As he walked towards the kitchen, he heard the headmaster's voice coming from beyond.
"Is the coffee to your liking? I would hate it if I made the coffee too weak for you Severus. I mean, I know how you hate mornings and I wouldn't want to make it any more miserable for you than necessary because you would hate it."
"Err...good morning," he said softly as he stood in the entryway, watching the men.
Dumbledore was moving around the kitchen easily, fiddling with things here and there even as he shot the odd glance at the potions master who seemed determined to ignore him if his rigidity was anything to go by. Bits and pieces of their banter the previous day came to mind and Harry wondered if this was another bout of it.
"Harry," the headmaster said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Come my boy, have a seat before breakfast gets cold. Severus would hate that I suppose."
"Yes sir," he replied as he took a seat, cocking his head at the wizard's words.
He was trying to insinuate something, he realised immediately. His primary school teacher used to do that when the class was taking too long to come up with the answer. Subtle or not so subtle hints until it clicked for someone. It wasn't directed at him, he saw immediately and mentally shrugged before he turned to the younger adult who was hidden behind the newspaper.
"Good morning Professor," he said shyly, hoping that he was not disturbing him. Uncle Vernon never wanted to hear a word before the paper was set aside. He wondered if the man was the same way. He really should have asked the headmaster how to interact with his teacher. Professor Snape was so strict whereas the headmaster was more easy-going and approachable. He was always on his guard around the dark-haired wizard, waiting for a rebuke for one thing or the other even when he was certain that he had done nothing wrong.
After a few seconds the newspaper was lowered slightly and the man's face came into view. The hair that usually hung around his face was pulled back into a low ponytail and somehow it made him seem less severe. But the man's eyes were as piercing as ever when they met his, and Harry found himself helpless to look away. It was as if his teacher was peering into his very being, a very unnerving feeling.
"Good morning Potter," he eventually said, raising the papers and consequently breaking Harry from his trance. "How are you feeling?"
"F-fine s-sir."
"Come now Severus," Dumbledore interjected as he claimed a seat. "We are all at the table now so the newspaper must go. You know how I hate that."
Harry cautiously shrank back as Snape shut the paper with a snap, and he could have sworn that the man growled even as he levelled the white haired man with a glare that he pointedly ignored as a wide smile creased his face.
"There we go!" he said cheerfully.
Harry's mouth dropped as the utensils on the table came alive and he could only stare in wonder as spoons dipped into the assortment of foods, ladling portions of everything on each plate. That certainly never happened at Hogwarts! He was immensely thankful that the spoons seemed to take him into consideration, as his portions were significantly smaller than what the adults received, but even so, he knew that it would be a struggle if they expected him to clear his plate.
"Dig in my boys," came the directive from the headmaster. "I would hate to see it go to waste."
"Hate is such a strong word headmaster," Harry said unwittingly before paling as all eyes turned on him. A flush darkened his checks and his eyes dropped. "S-sorry," he stammered, "I-I d-didn't m-mean t-to!"
"The shyness and stammering is innate?" Snape asked musingly, however judging by his tone it was clear that the question was directed more to himself than anyone else.
"I-I," Harry repeated. He had spoken out of turn. He knew better!
"Now, now my boy," Albus smiled easily, reaching out to pat his shoulder comfortingly. "You may talk freely. This is not a classroom."
"R-really?"
"Really," he repeated reassuringly. "Remember what we told you yesterday? Your relatives' rules do not apply here."
"I don't remember much," he revealed softly, not noticing the looks the men shot each other. "It seems – hazy."
"I wouldn't be surprised at that Potter," Snape said glibly as he picked up a fork. "You worked yourself into quite a state after your little adventure yesterday; we had no choice but to put you to bed, where you remained for the rest of the day."
"Oh," Harry said simply. That made sense. He remembered being frightened after being pulled back from the window. First because he thought he was in trouble and then...because of the scolding? He was not sure. Had he truly spent the remainder of the day, and night in bed? That was strange he thought, but the more he concentrated, the more other little snippets came to him. The headmaster telling him something, he denying it before he fell back asleep. What had that been about?
"Eat up my boy," the headmaster said, interrupting his musings. Once the man was satisfied that he was indeed chewing his eggs, he continued speaking. "As for what you said, I agree. Hate is such a strong word, one that should not be used loosely, right Severus? Such dreadful words can cause others pain."
"Hexes can have a similar effect," Snape said smoothly, a glint in his eyes that put Harry on alert. That look always meant trouble for whomever it was directed on. "Shall I do an illustration for Mr. Potter?"
"Now Severus," Albus tisked. "I am just saying that people should be careful about what they say lest they hurt another's feelings."
Was it his imagination, Harry thought, or had the headmaster just sniffed with an injured aire?
"Sometimes those feelings need hurting," he replied around a sip of coffee. "Along with other things."
"Surely you do not mean that my boy," the elder wizard frowned, his tone self-righteous. "Words said in the heat of the moment-"
"Are most often true."
By now, Harry's head was moving back and forth as he watched the impromptu sparring between the pair. It was oddly humorous, he decided as he nibbled on the end of his toast. Despite their words, neither seemed truly angry nor particularly annoyed and it was for that reason that he could relax and eat. The way they moved, rebutting each other's words smoothly, even as they chewed and sipped was a clear indicator that this was not an uncommon occurrence between them. Probably it was only the subject matter that changed.
"Not true!" Albus countered, waving a skewered sausage around for emphasis. "People usually say the opposite of what they mean in anger," he finished with a wicked smile.
"Old man, you best stop right there," Snape warned, "before I decide my potions need lemon drops."
"I wonder what the opposite of hate is," Albus continued, completely ignoring the man's last words (he had a secret stash even if Severus got to his main source after all). "Do you know what it is Harry?" he asked sweetly.
"Err..."
"Stay out of this Potter," the potions master snapped.
"Gladly," Harry thought as he finished half of his milk before setting it aside. He was full, despite the fact that barely half his plate had been cleared. He really was not accustomed to eating much, and those sausages were way too rich for him to stomach, no matter how delicious it tasted.
"Fine Severus, I will tell you myself," the headmaster said smugly. "The opposite of hate is love. So, if you tell someone you hate them in an argument, it means that you really don't mean it. Hence I have no choice to deduce that you lo-mph!"
"The silence is delightful is it not Potter?" Snape asked, as he pocketed his wand.
The headmaster's mouth was moving but no sound was coming out of it, Harry noted with astonishment. He was glaring too as he reached for his own wand, only to scowl when Snape waved it at him with a smug expression. "Breakfast is for eating not talking Albus. Surely, you with you advanced age should understand the concept by now. Nothing to say? Good. Your meal is growing cold."
Harry could have sworn that beneath all that hair, the headmaster pouted slightly, but it could have just been his imagination.
"Are you finished Mr. Potter?" Snape asked suddenly causing his head to snap up.
"Y-yes sir," he answered softly, wondering if he would be chastised.
The man stared at him plate with an unreadable expression in his eyes for several moments before he raised his black gaze. "Very well, you may take your things to the sink then."
"Yes sir."
"Good Mr. Potter, now come here."
A few seconds later, Harry was standing almost awkwardly by the man's side, resisting the urge to fidget when his chin was grasped so he had no choice but to meet his gaze.
"Let us not have a repeat of yesterday hmm? Better yet, let us remove the temptation. I want you to go to your playroom and choose any three things that catch your attention. In fifteen minutes, I want you to bring it here for inspection. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Off you go then," he said in dismissal and soon enough the kitchen was empty save the adults.
oOoOoOoOo
"Erm...I think this spot here," Harry said tentatively, pointing at a vaguely formed figure on a puzzle piece, "is a knight."
"A knight?" Snape repeated, nodding his head sage-like as if Harry had just pointed out a precious potions ingredient. "And what do we think Mr. Knight is doing?"
Why does he do that, Harry thought, even as he pondered the question. The 'we' was slightly condescending, as if Snape was humouring him, but at the same time, it did not seem like if he was being mocked. Maybe it was just a Snape thing, Harry decided, much as the headmaster always offered sweets.
"Um...he's going into the forest here," Harry all but murmured, tensing slightly when the man leaned close for a better look at the half-completed puzzle.
"Why the forest?" the potions master inquired, the look in his eyes genuinely curious. "There is a path right here and yet the knight chooses the forest. Explain further Mr. Potter."
"Well," the child began, nipping his lip, "the path is an obvious choice. Anyone would look for him there. In the forest, he might be safer."
"So there are people after him?" the man pressed, moving closer. It was plainly obvious that the child was not referring solely to the knight anymore.
"Well yes. He's a knight after all, everyone wants something from him. He'll have to hide away from them – the forest, no one would think to follow him into the forest."
"But there are dangerous animals in the forest," the professor pointed out, placing a puzzle piece onto the grid and gesturing at the tiny snake on it. "Animals that can hurt him. Would we still want Mr. Knight to go into the forest?"
"Yes," Harry said determinedly, eyeing the puzzle critically. "Animals haven't hurt the knight, people have. I'll take my chances there any day."
The slip was noted but not commented on, and instead the potions master straightened back into the armchair, idly ordering Harry to continue building. They had been like this the past hour or so, he sitting in the rarely used living room with a potions journal, overlooking what he sincerely believed to be the boy's first opportunity to play.
Albus had holed himself in his office, under the guise of work, but Severus knew better. He wanted to give them bonding time, and probably come up with another strategy to gain an apology. Not that he had any plans of retracting his less than kind words the night before, no matter what the old coot pulled. Another half an hour or so passed before Severus finished the next section of his journal and put it aside once again. He was mildly surprised to find that Potter was now almost three quarter way through the puzzle. It was a five hundred piece after all but even now the last section was being assembled.
He launched into a next question and answer section. Harry was struggling to finish another thought when Albus interjected from the doorway. "Only you Severus would turn playtime into a quizz."
"Headmaster!" Harry said, surprising them both by the open smile of happiness on his face. "Come see! Professor Snape's been helping me!"
"I haven't," the man glared, although it lacked its usual heat.
"You did," Harry countered, his voice a lot more confident now as he watched the man. "You helped me make a story about it. It's funner that way. Thank you!"
"More fun Potter," Snape corrected automatically. "Now, since Albus is available I have potions to brew."
"Oh no Severus," the headmaster said, a smirk lilting at his lips. "It's almost lunchtime. Harry child?"
"Yes sir?" he piped up, looking up from the puzzle that had recaptured his attention.
"Why don't you go and wash up hmm?"
The boy obediently rose to his feet although he shot the game a sad look.
"You can finish the puzzle after lunch Potter. No one will disturb it."
"Really sir?" he asked, walking over to him and tipping his head back to meet his gaze.
There was something in the boy's expression that caused the potions master's hands to twitch and blinking in surprise the man hurriedly folded them across himself. He had not just wanted to reach out and brush the hair out of the boy's eyes. Oh no, he had not. He was not the touchy one. That was Albus' job, no matter how - quaint Potter looked with his head tilted back like that with that open expression on his face.
"I keep my word Potter. Off you go now; there will be an inspection upon your return."
"Yes sir," Harry nodded, before leaving the room.
A brief silence descended after his departure before Albus spoke. "I think we made the right choice."
"You made the choice," Severus pointed out as he marked his spot in his journal. "However I am satisfied thus far. He's already a far cry from what I've grown to know. There are bouts of confusion though. He's automatically comparing everything we do to his relatives and of course some of his reactions cannot be restrained. He is dismissing it easily enough though and I sense a changing attitude towards his relatives."
"All this from watching him?"
"Don't be daft old man," Severus growled as he passed him. "His mind is like an open book. I've been scanning him all morning, gauging if any further intervention is needed. As much as it pains me to say it, you did not muck up his mind as I had thought you would."
"Your faith in me is astounding," Albus drawled dryly. "There was not that many memories that actually needed removing," he revealed. "The main one was around his seventh birthday. He apparated away from his cousin who fell and broke his arm. In retaliation, they broke him. In all I think I took about seventeen memories out, equalling about three months of his life. A far cry of what I original thought would be necessary if I'm honest. I suppose his remaining memories are somewhat distorted by it."
"Obviously," the younger wizard retorted as he set a plate on the table. He raised an eyebrow seconds later when a glass slipped from Dumbledore's hands, but waved his hand, stopping it from breaking. "What's the matter old man?" he asked as he sat, eyeing him with slight boredom. "Forgot to order next week's supply of lemon drops?"
However, before the headmaster could reply Harry walked into the room, moving straight to the potions master and raising his hands, smiling slightly when he received an 'Acceptable Potter' before seating himself. By the time lunch was over, Severus had forgotten his question as he escaped to his laboratory, leaving Dumbledore and Potter to an afternoon on their own.
oOoOoOoOo
He had a good voice, Albus thought absentedly as he overlooked Harry who was busy trying to complete the last segment of his puzzle. He was humming softly, something he had never done before in the man's presence and Albus saw it as proof that the right decision had been made. He had never seen his little boy so contented. Would Severus have been the same? It was too late to find that out, now was it?
He was wondering how best to broach a sensitive topic with Harry, something that had only occurred to him in his little conversation with Severus. Harry had apparated at age seven, he mused, had grown his hair back at eight and had turned his teacher's hair blue at nine. All extraordinary bouts of magic, given his age. But that was the tip of the iceberg. Perhaps in his relief of helping the boy the day before he had overlooked a very crucial sign, but now he was well aware of it.
His ward was skilled at wandless magic, even though he seemed inherently disturbed by the fact. Wandless magic, especially done with the ease Harry displayed was rare in the wizarding world. And the boy had not said anything, instead going about struggling with a wand that was obviously not meant for him. He would have to have words with Ollivander. The man should have reported such a thing to him immediately, moreover he should not have sold Harry a wand in the first place. But then, he acknowledged, Harry had been vehement. A wand was on the school list and therefore he needed one. No one had ever thought that a first year would have the potential for such skill and even then, their parents would surely have noticed and informed the school.
Now that he thought about it, the headmaster felt slightly ashamed of himself and had no doubt that members of his staff would feel the same way once he told them. For wasn't it a fact that back in the day Lily Evans was amazingly proficient without a wand? If he recalled correctly, it was somewhere around the redhead's third year that her wand was put away permanently after she complained that her spell work was becoming harder to do through the wand. How could no one have thought that Harry was similar? The signs were all there once someone was willing to look.
Lily's practicals had suffered those first few weeks in Hogwarts until a teacher (Filius if he wasn't mistaken) had literally stumbled across her making an apple dance across the table with her index finger only. Her marks had risen to among the top of her year after that. Really, why had no one thought to ask Harry if he was similar? And here they had all gone around thinking that the child was little more than a squib, a probable disappointment were his parents around. Harry was very much like the puzzle he was putting together, and Albus could not help but wonder what he would find when he finally put all the pieces together.
But he had more important things to ponder on before that. Like just how was he going to break it to Harry that his wandless magic did not make him an abnormality, but indeed, a very special person. Somehow knowing his little boy, it would not be a simple task.
TBC.