My Child
Chapter 8
Dorea woke early in the morning, as was her usual time to rouse. It was miraculous what a sleep and a small kindling of hope could ignite within a person. Yesterday had been beyond the pale exhausting. Her brother had given her hope, hope she had long since truly held. The last ember had been extinguished after she lost her precious little Leo. She hadn't been able to bear the thought of trying again. The heartache had been almost too much for her to bear. She was a Black yes, she was strong, fierce and powerful, but everyone had their breaking point. Leo had been a straw on the hippogriffs back away from causing her to break. Her husband had realised this, but the older they got, the more regrets one begets.
Setting the covers aside, she padded through to the bathroom after slipping on her flippers. She knew, of course, that she and her husband would be wonderful parents. They knew the do's and do nots from personal experience. Loving but not suffocating, letting them have a good childhood, spoil them but not too much. Fleamont had been a wonderful father but he and his wife had spoiled him too much. She understood the desire to do so. However, she'd seen James' teenage years.
Dorea saw to her morning ablutions, toilet, a bath, putting her face cream on, brushing her hair and dressed in the clothes the House-elf had left for her once she bathed. She had not worn make-up since she was a teenager and the acne stage had cleared up. Dorea had elected to wear something comfortable instead a dress. She would hopefully have a child to rush about after. It truly filled her with glee at the thought of it.
Harry wasn't her Leo, but he was family and she'd look after him as if he was.
Dorea glanced in the mirror once more, more than satisfied by what she saw she left the room. "Good morning, love," she said, seeing her husband sitting up in their bed, she loved him best of all in those little moments. His hair in disarray, a fussy look on his face as he slowly woke up. Nobody else got to see him like this except her.
"Good morning," Charlus said, giving her that roguishly handsome grin she'd fallen for all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" standing up and drawing his hands up and down her arms.
"I'm feeling much better this morning," she reassured him, kissing his cheek, "Go get dressed, I'll see to it that breakfast is started." Although, unless her ears were mistaken, there was already the sound of pots and pans being shifted in the kitchen. Rather odd, they always waited until they decided for the day. There wasn't food to be wasted after all. She never thought she'd miss her childhood home as much as she did at this moment. Although, really, it was just the lack of worry if she was honest. Which she always was with herself.
Silently excusing herself, her husband padding into the bathroom still tired. Dorea silently made her way through her home, which was small but comfortable. As always, everything was pristine, the House-elves hard at work.
The sight that met her left her stunned to the core.
Standing in her kitchen hovering over an open flame was a terrified child. Who for some reason had food all around him, eggs, bacon, sausage, potato scones, hash browns, and pots full of boiling hot oil. The world stood still, as she grappled with what she was seeing, she honestly, never in a million years could have expected this.
Dorea panicked, not sure what to do, or how to deal with this. She'd been so stupid to think she could deal with a child so badly hurt by Muggles. Ignorant distasteful muggles, oh, Harry deserved so much better, and she wanted to be the one to give it. She just didn't know how.
"Harry, please step away from there," Dorea said quietly, remaining calm and distant hoping that it would ease the child. She couldn't believe he was at the cooker! Near a hot plate! It had only been one day but she already felt like a failure.
Harry squeaked his panic tripling, glancing hurriedly at Dorea he wheezed as he made a grab for the eggs. Misjudging the aim, and his arm seared across the hot plate. Scrambling back, crying out in agony, he slid off the stool he'd created to reach the hob in the first place. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he wheezed, "I'll do better!" he promised, green eyes awash in tears of pain, trying so desperately to hide it. Tears had never helped matters, no it only made it worse. Made the pain ultimately worse when his uncle 'gave him something to cry for' and he always lived up to his promises.
Harry clenched his teeth together, clutching his sore close to him almost dizzy with the agony of it. Scurrying into a corner, hoping it would protect him, wishing for the dark and smallness of his cupboard, despite the fact he didn't really like being in there. It offered him protection, since his uncle was much too large to fit in there. It had become his safe heaven of a sorts.
Harry couldn't help but sob despite his best efforts.
Dorea waved her wand, silently summoning the first aid kit as the sobs jerked her back into action. "Oh goodness, child, it's okay, it's okay," Dorea soothed, admittedly feeling rather awkward, mostly on Harry's behalf since he wasn't used to her and he proceeded to huddle up further against the cupboards.
Snatching the kit out of mid-air, Harry froze, his breathing hitching. His entire body going into denial at what he'd seen. He'd been told so often that magic wasn't real, despite his doubts, the words had begun to affect him. His terrified green eyes roamed around, expecting Vernon Dursley to storm in and hurt him for even thinking of the word 'magic' or blame him for it. Whether he had done it or not, it didn't matter in the Dursley's household.
"Give me your arm, my child," Dorea murmured soothingly, cupping his elbow when he moved without argument or thought. Dorea rolled out the kit until she found the red container, which had burn salve in it. She prayed it was still usable. Neither she or Charlus hurt themselves often, and as good as preservation charms are, they weren't forever, she couldn't remember the last time she bought it. "What were you trying to do?" opening the lid with magic, by twirling her finger, before plucking a piece of clean cotton and scooping it out of the container.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, jerking his head down, as if attempting to stop himself being hurt.
"Oh, my child, that's not what I asked," Dorea murmured, "This will sting for just a little minute then the pain will go away." She promised, as he began to coat the burn in the paste which was also bright orange. Thick which was why she'd used a cotton pad.
Harry's tears ceased, as his breathing once again hitched as the pain did indeed stop. "It's like…like magic." Harry smashed his jaw closed; he couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to say that. Shuffling impossibly closer to the wood, he was so afraid, had his uncle got rid of him after all? Was this part of going to the orphanage?
"It is magic," Dorea said softly, deliberately pointing her wand at his arm and cast, "Ferula!" and the healing-pasted arm was bandaged with nothing more than a piece of wood. "Magic is real, it's very real, you have it, I have it too." Would mentioning his parents be too much for him? He was hyperventilating again, and she didn't want to see him end up unconscious again. It had been so terrible to see, and worse was feeling so useless.
She needed to speak to a mind-healer, get professional help in regards what to do for Harry. What was best for him, while he recovers, she didn't want to set him back or make things worse. She focused on the boy and found him staring dazedly at his arm and she couldn't help but smile a little.
"Dorea? What on earth…" Charlus blinked at the sights in front of him, the mess in the kitchen and Harry and Dorea sitting on the kitchen floor like common muggles. There were seats for everyone, nobody needs to be sitting on the floor. "Are you alright?"
Dorea glanced up at her flummoxed husband and smiled, "We're just fine, aren't we Harry?"
"But why are you on the floor? And what happened to your arm, little one?" Charlus asked, naturally he'd have zero understanding on what had gone on let alone it's possibilities. He knew abuse existed, but just on the peripheral of his life.
"I'm afraid he burnt it," Dorea said, a little paler than normal, he'd taken ten years off her life with that stunt she was afraid. "In an attempt to make breakfast I assume?" it was defrosting now; it couldn't be put back.
"Have to earn my keep." Came the whispered reply, hearing such harrowing words out of such a young childish voice made both Dorea and Charlus feel sick to their stomach.
"Oh, my child," Dorea said sadly, "Not here you don't."
"Stand up little one," Charlus asked, approaching them, holding his hand out patiently until the youngster clasped on and he was eased to his feet. "Let's go see Healer Thorfinn, shall we? Make sure you're doing alright while the kitchen is cleaned up."
Dorea held onto her husband's other hand and was pulled up too. Watching her son ease Harry calmly into the living room. Fondness suffusing her, oh, he was just as good as she always thought he'd be.
She realized even if they only ever raised Harry, it was enough.
She did hope, however, that she could give Harry a younger sibling in which to play and grow with. She couldn't imagine not having a sibling, she'd grown up with three, to an extent, then two, but now? She had Marius and she wouldn't be without him. Even if she had remained quiet on her brothers' instructions.
Marius often said she was his favourite sibling, not that she had any competition. She didn't tell him he was her favourite sibling. Not that there was any competition alive, since her other brother and sister (Cassiopeia) had passed away. She needed to tell him more, she knew that, after yesterday.
"Sunny?" Dorea called, knowing that Sunny had the longer sleep, so she was awake to make breakfast. The others would get to rest after making sure her family was alright.
"Breakfast for six people?" Sunny asked, inhaling sharply at the sight of the kitchen. She didn't ask, it wasn't her place, and she rather valued her services in the Potter family.
"Yes, use what's out and take more of the cupboard's if you need it." Dorea explained as the kitchen was clean and tidy with a few clicks of her House-elves fingers. The eggs, however, were ruined and couldn't be used, splattered on the floor and worktops as they were. "Make a healthy meal for Harry as well as Melania and Arcturus. Healer Rowle will know what best to give him. Has he woken yet?"
"Yes, ma'am he is, he's drinking a coffee I made for him." Sunny said proudly, she knew to take care of her Mistresses guests. She would bear the Potter name and crest proudly.
"Inform him he may join us at any time and alert him to the fact his youngest patient is awake already and on the move." Dorea said, she was very pleased to see that Harry seemed much improved. Rosy cheeks, although that might have something to do with the heat, perhaps but he didn't seem exhausted, mentally, physically or magically. Which was rather odd given the amount of magic he'd used but no matter.
Sunny nodded before popping away, ready to do as Dorea wished.
Dorea moved out of the kitchen, watching her husband talk to Harry. She realized they weren't exactly talking…no, he was showing him pictures of them all. More importantly Charlus and his grandfather, pictures of James with his parents – Harry's grandparents – and one of the only pictures they had of Harry, but it was just Harry and Charlus, she had one copied in her locket.
"Really me?" Harry asked staring down at the picture of himself young as if he couldn't believe it.
"Oh, yes, really you," Charlus laughed a soft rumbling laugh. "This is you grown up a little, after your birthday." By after his birthday, he meant about three weeks before the attack. Placing his hand on Harry's back and rubbed up and down. He swallowed thickly, feeling every rib, every knob on his spine through his skin.
Harry held onto the album tightly, as if he was terrified, they'd fade from sight or it would be taken from him.
"Why don't you look through it while Thorfinn makes sure you're healthy, alright?" Charlus stood carefully, eyes soft and kind, but behind that lay a seething furious wizard. "Please inform Marius to forget the background search. We're not playing games. We'll make it look like an accident, but it will happen." He wouldn't let that filth live to harm another soul.
Dorea agreed wholeheartedly, "I fully agree," seeing him making breakfast to 'earn his keep' it broke her heart. He was acting like a spooked House-elf, and it wasn't right. Harry was the heir to two ancient and noble lines. "Perhaps it's for the best dear, after all, after them, we're practically the only other family that could possibly take him."
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Charlus asked, wrapping his arms around his wife. He knew it wasn't proper pureblood decorum, but he had been nothing but a spare, his actions weren't as closely monitored like Mont's, so he got away with more. Then it had become normal for them, it was perfectly normal for married couples to be close.
"Oh, yes, poor Petunia, worried about her children and nephew if anything happened to them." Dorea murmured with a grim countenance.
"Only problem with that is we'd need to take both boys," Charlus pointed out, "And he's not asked after him or seemed even reluctant to stay with us regardless of any bond between them." And honestly, he didn't want to mar the connection he was making – tentative as it was – and ask him about the boy.
"Harry?" Dorea called out softly, determined to settle it once and for all.
It took a few moments for Harry's gaze to travel up to her, as if only realizing it was his name she was calling for. Like he wasn't used to it. He didn't speak, just stared at her worry shining through his green cautious eyes.
"Do you want to live here with us?" Dorea asked quietly, giving Thorfinn a smile of gratitude for him stopping.
A small jerky nod was an answer.
"Is there anyone you'll miss?" Dorea asked, a sorrowful lilt to her voice. Such sorrow because she had a feeling, she already knew the answer, Charlus was right. If there was anyone, he'd miss he'd already be asking for them as sure as the goddess made magic.
In reply Harry shook his head vehemently, most empathetically no, there wasn't.
Dorea sighed softly, nodding her head, "Not even your cousin?" pushing past her reluctance.
Harry flinched, curling in on himself, it was more of an answer than any verbal could possibly compare.
"That's fine, it's fine, Harry, I promise, I just had to know," Dorea said approaching the child on the chair. "We'll make sure your cousin and you don't see one another, it's all alright." It did make things rather complicated, but it was doable. They couldn't punish a child for its parents' mistakes.
"Severus is coming today, he'll be here at ten o'clock," Charlus explained, "I'll need to go to Gringotts and withdraw the funds to pay for the potions."
"Marius will be here soon, too I believe," Dorea an amused smile on her face, he would keep his word and help her through this. She felt stronger than she had last night though. A moment of weakness, but one, nonetheless. Closer to breaking than she'd ever been. Having family around her was helping immensely. Having plans was just the icing on the cake.
"Got a full day of it," Charlus said, "Are you up to it?" sensing that she was far better than she had been last night.
"Yes, did you remember the junior calming draughts?" because she had a feeling, they would be needing them. Harry was more skittish than a dog right now. Long term potions weren't the answer she knew, but they'd get there with him.
"I did." Charlus reassured her, "How are Melania and Arcturus doing? Presuming you've already been by?" he added since he wasn't aware if he had seen to Harry first or if he'd been by earlier to see the bonded pair. Staring at his wife, he understood why though, he'd have loved to go down the same road. However, the thought of him dying young and dragging his wife with him horrified him. That sort of bond the one couldn't exist without the other, it was beautiful as it was hauntedly terrifying.
"They're doing really well, Melania I suspect will wake up today," Thorfinn explained, the urge to hand Harry a chocolate frog was strong. Unfortunately, he couldn't give him one, or anything too sugary, it was for his own good.
Dorea waited for Thorfinn to elaborate on that, patiently.
The wizard straightened, and without apologies he begun to explain everything. "The release of Heir Potter…"
"You may call him Harry, I don't think he knows his name very well," Charlus told the wizard bluntly, a look on his face that even Thorfinn felt leery about. It spoke of a contained need for violence and needing an outlet soon.
Thorfinn pursed his lips, technically they were his guardians so when they gave permission it was fine. Inclining his head he begun again, "The outburst of magic doesn't seem to have even remotely drained Harry. The initial outburst seems to have acted as a counter charm and broke whatever spell he was under to smithereens and as an added bonus, allowed itself to be sapped up into Arcturus' magical core, which he shares with his wife. Naturally, she gained some of it as, enough to wake her as well. I don't need to tell you that it should have been impossible."
"I think you mean improbable, since it did happen." Charlus mused thoughtfully, "Magic is far less impressive these days, back in the day without wands, the feats we were known for was phenomenal."
"Those that are left to fend for themselves…I find have the most impressive magical displays." Thorfinn confessed, a grimace upon his face. It wasn't something that should be gone, abuse, it was horrendous. The Dark Lord, Severus, Harry they were the most powerful wizards he'd ever known. Capable of feats of magic that nobody else would be able to accomplish even if their lives depended on it.
"You're implying nature versus nurture?" Charlus speculated. "That's been debunked, Merlin had a very solid childhood."
"All we've heard was second hand accounts, his mother wasn't magical, and to this day, nobody knows who his father was." Thorfinn joined in the small debate, admittedly it was one of the main points of the debate and brought up frequently.
"Exactly, nobody knows, but what cannot be denied was those that grow up not knowing about magic…with no guidance…without anyone to tell them their limitations or make them fearful of the Ministry grow up with incredibly strong magical cores." Charlus agreed, the smell of breakfast making his stomach rumble.
"Come, my child," Dorea said, holding her hand out for Harry to take, "Breakfast is ready and it's time to eat." Waiting patiently for the child to come to her. As clueless as she was regarding many things, especially abuse, she knew she had to move at Harry's pace. To let him come to her.
"Ah, we'll never know, it's rather unfortunate." Charlus brushed it off, "Please, join us." The House-elves would see to Arcturus and Melania – if she woke – and make sure they had breakfast.
"Just to be clear, Harry's magical core hasn't been affected?" Dorea asked, as she sat, laying her cloth napkin over her lap. Leaving the chair open for Harry to join them, along with both steps and a booster seat. His own time she had to remind herself, regardless of how much it hurt he'd remained seated in sheer terror of people.
"Not at all, it's widened, I don't believe you're ever going to have to worry. He has an extraordinary ability of recharging his magic far sooner than probable." Thorfinn explained, barely acknowledging the House-elf as he ate his fill of the full English breakfast that had been made for him.
Charlus himself had the same meal, sat at the head of the table. Dorea and Harry's seat held a far healthier alternative. Dorea sometimes on her health kicks had healthy meals for a few weeks, before the call of a proper English breakfast sung its siren song. It would seem that today wasn't that day.
"Have you ever seen anything like it?" Dorea asked, smiling at Harry as he tentatively joined them, his green eyes flying everywhere to check for threats that didn't exist. That was okay, he would grow used to them, and realize nobody here was going to hurt him.
"Once," Thorfinn said with an ironic twist to his lips.
Dorea didn't need to ask to whom Thorfinn was referring, of course, Voldemort. Her instincts were telling her that Harry was going to be a little more powerful than Voldemort. Still, no matter, they'd raise him right, teach him a good solid moral code. A black moral code of course, not society's expectations.
Anyone powerful like Harry was going to be feared by anyone of political clout. Powerful wizards were zealotry followed, Merlin, Morgana, Dumbledore, Grindelwald just in recent history. What they wanted they got nine times out of ten, if someone grabbed for political power and fame? Would be a dangerous combination.
The Blacks delighted in the dangerous, proclivity towards the dark arts, and were immensely powerful in their own right.
She might be a Potter, but she was born a Black.
Inane chatter filled the room as Charlus, Dorea, Thorfinn spoke. Harry remained quiet, but little by little his tense shoulders began to loosen. It took longer still for him to bravely eat his breakfast. Kept warm by the warming charms until he was ready, very thoughtful of the House-elves.
"Another day I think then I shall only come if required," Thorfinn explained, "Given the results, it's a gift you got him when you did." Alluding but making sure Charlus and Dorea understood.
"Nevertheless, they'll pay," Charlus stated, his eyes gleaming darkly in vicious need to get revenge.
"Indeed, we will leave after Severus is gone, Marius I'm sure will be thrilled to watch Harry for an hour." Dorea said, as if she was going to miss out on getting revenge on the Dursley's.
"Oh, dear, I doubt it will take that long," Charlus said chuckling, as if he found it entirely entertaining and amusing.
Thorfinn snorted wryly, shaking his head ruefully, used to such talk. The allusions but never outright stating, the amusement at taking care of muggles, the need for revenge. He was very pleased to see they were doing everything they could. At least Dumbledore wouldn't be able to put him back there if anything went wrong.
Even if it went against his 'delicate sensibilities' which he didn't have, he wouldn't have been able to inform anyone anyway. The contract was quite strict, but he didn't mind, it was for their protection after all.
"You're quite right, it likely won't," Dorea sagely agreed, "Are you enjoying that, Harry?"
Harry nodded slowly, wary, as if watching a snake about to strike.
"Would you like some more fruit?" Dorea asked, gesturing towards the bowl filled with fruit. The House-elf had only added a spoonful of fruit to the yoghurt. The small bowl of porridge was gone. He seemed to really relish the yoghurt.
Harry remained still, refusing to answer when all he wanted to do was scream yes.
"Will he be okay with more?" Dorea turned to Thorfinn, seeking his expertise.
Thorfinn added one spoonful of a potion into Harry's orange juice. Swirled it around until it disappeared within. Some potions worked well with other mixtures, but most did not, they were lucky the few that did. The potions were often given to children, thus the gratitude for the potions being able to be mixed. "Drink this, then you can have something more." It would prevent him being sick, and ensure he had the correct nutrients.
They weren't going to be as lucky come later, when Harry would need to drink the potions without any aid, only water afterwards. They were disgusting tasting potions, near impossible to get kids to take them. Any attempt at changing the flavour failed, even from the best of the best.
The rest of the morning flew in, as Sunny appeared with items that Marius had bought. Which nearly took every single spare spot in Harry's bedroom. Or what would be Harry's bedroom, it was everything a child would need. They must have been sent the second the shops opened; a smile adorned her face when she saw the duvet filled with nothing but snitches on it. Marius had even bought Harry shoes, boots, trainers, fancy shoes, and the wizarding alternative, dragonhide boots, which by the way were so adorably tiny.
His clothes were a mixture of Muggle and Wizarding, Marius truly had gone all out. A weight she had not known she still harboured on her shoulders…she honestly wasn't sure what she would have done without her brother at all. The suit…honestly, she wanted to squeal in delight, he'd look ever so handsome in it. The desire to dress him up was so strong, but she knew it would need to wait until he was in a better place mentally, emotionally too.
Dorea blatantly used magic, making no effort to stop. She was not going to stop using magic to appease Harry. He had to get used to magic, she used it without thought, it had always been a part of her. Even trying to stop wouldn't work, so she used it and carried on.
She did notice Harry was fearful, looking around but the actual magic? He watched with an avarice filled desire. They'd need to talk about everything, but that could wait until Thorfinn left and Melania and Arcturus were awake.
"That's Severus dear, I'll close the door," Charlus said, standing, stroking Harry's head as he departed, and it happened so quick Harry couldn't even think to react with a flinch as he would do. The door closed behind them, as he made his way to Floo, "Good afternoon, Severus, thank you so much for coming." The chain he usually had around his neck stopping anyone from figuring out who he was, was off. He had forgotten to put it on, same with Dorea, they looked exactly as they meant to.
Severus stiffened, gaze narrowing suspiciously along his crooked nose. Black eyes flicking up across from side to side, all the way down. His wand unsheathing and sliding into his hands, clawing around it. "Who are you?" very few people had permission to use his given name, and considering he'd came to the Noir residence. His lip curling when he noticed resemblances to Potter.
Charlus old, but not entirely stupid, knew better than to backtrack or sputter. The cat was out of the bag, and he might as well use it to his own advantage. Upside, Severus wouldn't be able to say anything. He'd signed a privacy contract, it worked both ways naturally, bet Severus didn't think he'd ever need to worry. "I assume you recognize who I am?"
Severus chuckled, it was a dark thin thing, "Noir indeed," recalling just whom Charlus Potter was married to. Normally when a female married into a family, they gravitated towards pleasing the Lord of the family she'd married into. The Blacks were opposite, the male – whether he be lord or not – they usually attended Black family meetings and elected to try and cosy up to the Black Lord.
"Quite," Charlus stated with a smirk on his face, thus why they'd chosen it. "Did you bring the Potions?"
Severus gave him a look that suggested he was revaluating his intelligence.
Normally Severus wasn't quite to intolerant, he tolerated some behaviour, mostly for Lily's sake. However, he was not about to take that lying down. His face grew chilled, as he stared at the youth, glacial in his reception of the wizard. "Desist the behaviour at once. I can and will withdraw my recommendation of your services."
While Severus Snape was the youngest Potions Master in the world his reputation was in shreds. Who wanted to buy potions from an Ex- Death Eater? Who's only shield had been Dumbledore? Most people thought he deserved to be in Azkaban, even Dumbledore's most ardent supporters. Nobody trusted him, let alone enough to buy potions from him.
An ugly look graced Severus' features, hating on being reliant on others. The fact it was a Potter doing it made it worse. "You Potters are all the same." He spat out, both indignant and hateful at being held over the barrel.
Charlus sighed, taking the potions before sitting them on the desk out of the line of fire. "Grow up, Severus, the only Potter you knew was James, my nephew was spoiled, yes, we know, but he died when he had just turned twenty-one years old, an adult only a few years…he was turning into a magnificent man. Becoming a father changed him."
Severus sneered, not believing it the slightest, he'd seen him at Order meetings. He knew he hadn't grown up at all. Yet a slither of conscience got to him, remembering that most of the time, okay, all the time, it was Pettigrew or Black that started it, Potter just defended them. "Right," he said blandly, with enough doubt to fill Hogwarts herself in his voice.
Charlus stiffened in real offense, "The twenty-five percent share interests of Fleamont's inventions and a lab in his Irish Potions laboratory without any percentage coming off anything you invent there. They were going to make you their unborn child's godfather, they were going to mend fences."
Honestly, by the time Charlus was finished, Severus looked guilt stricken, grief stricken and looked as if a feather touch could bowl him over.
"They never got around to telling you?" Charlus summarised heavily, sighing as he sat down.
"Is any of that true?" Severus asked, unable to hide the vulnerability sitting heavily in his throat. Had Lily at long last forgiven him? For everything or just the Mudblood comment?
"Yes, it's in their will, I know because I read and signed as a witness, the only problem is, they didn't give us a copy and we never found their will." Charlus confessed tired, thus this whole thing with Harry.
"If Lily was still the same, she'll have put it into a book," Severus said wryly, a poignant feeling of relief and sadness suffusing him. she'd forgiven him, she'd been pregnant. Sorrow burst through the relief and sadness; he'd have had a second godchild. If the Dark Lord hadn't done what he did…he would have had another godchild to cherish.
Merlin, he was standing talking to Charlus Potter for Merlin's sake! Who was alive after all and had apparently been in hiding all this time. Not that it shocked him, people did anything to survive the war, including fake their own deaths and such.
"A book?" Charlus murmured, they hadn't thought to check the books, just any boxes or anywhere with important documents hoping to find a copy of it.
Both Severus and Charlus jerked at the sound of an almighty scream of sheer unmitigated terror coming from their left. Charlus rushed out of his office, without a second thought, needing to make sure his wife and Harry were alright.
In the bathroom, Harry was tightly wedged in the corner, honestly looking as if someone was strangling him off the very air he breathed.
Severus' breathing hitched, having a good idea who it was, the scar – he'd only ever heard Dumbledore and the newspapers talking about – stood stark on his forehead. "Potter," he breathed out, shocked, Dumbledore had Potter squared away at Petunia's because of the 'blood wards' or rather that's what Severus had inferred. He'd warned Dumbledore what could happen, Petunia was a cold old shrew. Apparently, the boy was treated 'like a prince' and he had someone living close by and another that keeps an eye when they're further than a mile of their residence.
"Sevvy," Harry said his eyes widening comically, surprised that he knew who it was, but he did, he knew, he remembered him from the photos his mum showed him as a toddler.
A/N – This story has admittedly been giving me grief to get started! I knew where I wanted to go but I was finding it difficult to get there! It was chunky I felt and awkward, but yesterday and today I was able to write this chapter so effortlessly, I'm really pleased with the outcome! With a little luck now that it's moving smoothly it will continue that way! So, will Severus become really close or will he only appear a few times a year during holidays etc… and keeping an ear on everything happening at Hogwarts? How soon will they publicly out themselves as Harry's magical guardians and will Dorea and Charlus still go ahead with their plan to eliminate the Dursley's? R&R please
