A/N: As always, a special thanks to Sansa who is a selfless beta and wonderful friend. Let's all heap praise on Sansa! She deserves it.
Pesky legal disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.R., her assigns, agents, licensees and all others to whom she grants her wonderful dispensation. Sadly, I am not on that list, nor do ever expect to be. I write this purely for fun and guilty pleasure and make no money from this.
CHAPTER 6: SEMPER UBI SUB UBISeverus stared at his two charges during breakfast the next morning. It was raining, which meant no outside playing for the boys and, as a consequence, no work for Severus. His gaze slipped to the clock every so often—he had only a few hours before Narcissa would return. Thank God. Severus had never been happier to be a bachelor than in that moment. Oh, he loved his godson as if he was his own and Draco's little friend wasn't as irritating as he'd imagined. But, Severus knew from experience the amount of trouble cooped-up mischievous little boys could get into. Lord help them all the day Draco Malfoy decided to cause real problems.
For now, though, Severus just wanted to make it through breakfast. The clinking of forks on pottery and Draco's incessant chatter about some woman's damn cats had him teetering on the edge of sanity. He kept snapping and rustling the pages of the morning paper in an effort to get Draco to stop. But thus far, Draco hadn't taken the hint.
Worse still, was the sniffling little friend. While Draco chattered on and on and on Harry said nothing. He nodded every few minutes or made a small "hmmm-ing" sound at the appropriate point in Draco's stories while he sniffled, kept his head down and pushed his eggs around on his plate. Harry took minute nibbles of his toast, his face contorting as he swallowed. Severus was convinced that Harry wasn't suffering from allergies. The child was sick.
"Your mother will be home around lunch, Draco. I suggest we all spend the morning reading."
Harry looked up at that, relieved.
Draco, however, screwed up his little face in anger. "Read? Read? Why would we do that? That's boring," Draco declared. "Make us a tent, Uncle Severus."
"No," Severus said as he rustled his paper and snapped the pages in irritation again.
"We don't want to read," Draco said in exasperation. "Tell him Harry. Tell him we want a tent with fairy lights and squashy pillows."
Harry looked back and forth between Draco and Severus, his eyes wide and nervous.
"Well? Tell him?" Draco demanded again.
"I—I," Harry started. "I'd rather read," he whispered.
It was Draco's turn to look shocked. "What?"
Harry sniffled and pushed back his hair. Severus noticed that Harry's skin was flushed and beaded with slight perspiration.
"I said I'd rather read. I'm tired, Draco," Harry explained.
"Tired? We just got up?"
"I know that," Harry snapped, causing Draco to rear back in surprise. "I'm just not fee—I'm just tired, Draco. Besides, I'd like to look at Mr. Snape's plant books," Harry said, his shy gaze darting at Severus for confirmation that this was acceptable.
Severus inclined his head a fraction at Harry's request. "That sounds wonderful. Draco, why don't you and I put together a puzzle?" Separation at this point was key as far as Severus was concerned. Keep the germs contained. Keep the boys from squabbling. Keep the boys from mischief making. Keep Severus's sanity intact.
Draco warred with himself. He was upset that Harry wanted to read instead of playing with him. But, he liked puzzles and Uncle Severus always let him put the edge pieces together by himself. "Okay," he said, with as much reluctance as he could muster, shooting dirty looks at Harry.
"Why don't you go get the puzzle, Draco. Your friend can help me with the dishes," Severus said, seeing the storm brewing in the cheery little kitchen.
Draco left and Harry started gathering plates, only to be stopped by Severus's hand on his.
"Stay seated, boy. You look like you're going to fall over at any moment."
"Sorry, sir," Harry said.
Severus huffed. "Well, I don't think you intended to get sick. Though, I must say, it is terribly rude to show up at someone's home, infecting them unawares with your sneezes and sniffles."
Harry looked up, surprised that Severus knew he wasn't feeling well. "I'm not sick," he stammered. Though, the sniffle that followed that statement belied it.
Severus folded his arms and arched one of his eyebrows in a pose that Harry was beginning to know quite well.
Cowed, Harry looked down. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled, this time following-up with a cough. He didn't look up when he heard Mr. Snape's exasperated sigh.
It was quiet for several moments and Harry sat there tensed, wondering what would happen. This man reminded him so much of his uncle, with his abrupt movements, his harsh words, his size. But, at the same time, Harry believed that Mr. Snape was nothing like Uncle Vernon. That thought was confirmed when he felt something small and cold poke at his mouth. Surprised, he pushed himself back to get away.
"Your temperature, boy. I'm just trying to take your temperature. Now stop this foolishness and open up."
Dumbfounded by this show of concern, Harry's mouth popped open of its own accord while Severus slipped in the thermometer.
"Wait for the beep," he said before returning to the dishes.
Harry sat there, waiting. He could hear Draco running around upstairs, searching for his puzzle. The rain was coming down in steady sheets, Harry noticed. The tick of the kitchen clock seemed louder than it should. It was funny the things one noticed when one chose to.
The thermometer beeped. Severus withdrew it, tsked at the results and started culling through a small cabinet. A few minutes later he returned with two small tablets and a glass of water.
"Child's aspirin," he said. "Chew, swallow, drink."
Harry nodded and did as he was told, finishing just as Draco raced down the stairs, puzzle in hand.
"Where should we put it together, Uncle Severus," Draco said.
"Here on the kitchen table, I think. Start separating the edge pieces from the others, Draco, while I take Harry upstairs and lend him a book."
Draco nodded and dumped the puzzles pieces onto the table, humming to himself as he started sorting them out.
Harry got the distinct impression that he was being ignored. He didn't much care. In fact, he was rather cross with Draco himself. Why couldn't Draco understand that Harry didn't always feel like doing what he wanted to do? Why couldn't Harry have his own interests? Why couldn't his friend see that he was hurting, especially when Mr. Snape could?
"Come, Harry," Severus said as he made his way from the kitchen and started up the stairs. Harry followed him into the guest bedroom.
"Lie here," Severus directed, pointing to the bed.
Harry hesitated for a second before climbing up and sitting stiffly in the middle.
"I said lie down," Severus snapped as he continued searching for something.
Harry nodded and scrambled to get more comfortable.
"Here," Severus said, shoving a thick book under Harry's nose. "You may keep this. I have multiple copies. If you are truly interested in tending to plants, you may find this of interest."
Harry couldn't believe it. He ran his fingers over the book's cover and traced the lettering with reverence. "Thank you," he murmured, astonished that someone would give him such a prize, such a gift.
Severus waved his gratitude away. "I get these for free from the publisher. Though, I suspect this particular edition would be hard to come by otherwise."
Harry tried to puzzle out the words. "Par—par-di-si . . . par-a-di-si," he struggled out.
"Paradisi in sole," Severus said with a flourish. "More of those funny words for you."
"Uncle Severus?" Draco said from the doorway, watching the goings on in the room with oddly glittering eyes.
"Ah, Draco. Tell me, does your school not teach Latin? Is it not a required course for year fours?"
"No, course not," he said with a snigger.
"Yes, of course not. Why teach something useful?" Severus muttered under his breath.
"Are you teaching Harry Latin?" Draco asked, coming into the room and plopping next to Harry on the bed.
"I am attempting to explain the title of this book."
Draco snatched the book from Harry's hands, which only served to make Harry very, very cross.
"Paradisi in sole," Draco said, his pronunciation perfect. "Park in . . . sun?" Draco asked.
"Very good, Draco, yes."
Harry was growing more cross by the moment. This was his book. His lesson. His secret language. He snatched the book from Draco's hands and stared at the words on the cover, willing them to make sense. "Par-a-di-si in sol-e," he whispered, trying to make his pronunciation sound as good as Draco's.
"Very good, Harry," Severus said, still trying to avoid the coming conflict between the two. From what Narcissa had told him, Harry was the passive party here, doing whatever Draco wanted, when Draco wanted. Severus suspected that Harry was tired of being a plaything; one of Draco's belongings. And not feeling well wasn't helping his disposition. So Severus sought to distract them. "It's a pun, Harry," he said in the kindest voice he could muster. The child was intelligent and clever, but unworldly. Uncultured.
Harry cocked his head to the side in thought before looking down at the book cover. His eyes darted to the author's name—John Parkinson. He looked up, understanding clear in his eyes. "Parkinson wrote a book he named Park-in-sun?"
Severus's lips quirked into a small smile. "Yes. Very clever, Harry."
"Yeah, Harry!" Draco agreed, distracted from his jealousy for the moment. "It's like semper ubi sub ubi!"
"What?" Harry asked.
"Semper ubi sub ubi," Draco repeated. "Uncle Severus taught it to me. He fancies Latin puns, don't you Uncle Severus?" Without waiting for Severus's reply, Draco continued. "It means 'always wear underwear,' well, sort of anyway." Draco giggled as only a little boy would at such obvious bathroom humor. "Get it? Semper means always, ubi means where, and sub means under. Semper ubi sub ubi. Always wear underwear!"
Harry did get it and couldn't stop his faint blush at hearing something he considered a bit risqué. Nor could he stop the torrent of little boy giggles that escaped as well. Soon, both boys were alternatively chanting "'Semper ubi sub ubi,' and 'always wear underwear,'" finding it more and more hilarious with each sing-song repetition.
Severus sat back, amused at their antics, and hoped that whatever was brewing between the two boys had passed. Harry yawned and Severus took that as their cue. "Draco, I believe we have a puzzle to put together."
"Okay," he said with reluctance. "Come put it together with us, Harry."
Harry bit his lip. "I'd really like to look at this book."
Draco's eyes turned stormy for a moment before he sniffed and said "Fine," bounding off the bed and down the stairs.
Harry sighed as Draco bounded out of the room. "Thank you, sir," he said again, gesturing towards the book.
"Certainly," Severus said as he turned to leave. At the last moment he turned again and snatched open the closet doors. He found a soft blanket and placed it beside Harry. "In case you get cold," he said before gliding out of the room and leaving Harry to his book.
Draco was bored. He'd put the edge pieces of his puzzle together and was waiting for his godfather to start helping him with the middle part. But, his godfather had received a call and was now in the living room shouting at someone in broken English and Italian. From what Draco could gather, someone hadn't properly tended to his godfather's plants at the boarding school where he taught.
Draco drummed his fingers on the table for a few minutes before trying a few of the middle pieces by himself. It was no use. This was the part that two people did. That's the way it worked. When his godfather's conversation became more heated, Draco slid from his chair and sneaked up the stairs.
"Harry?"
Harry opened his eyes at the sound of his name. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He was lying on the guest bed at Draco's house with a soft blanket covering him. His new book was cradled in the crook of his arm. He looked around the room and saw Draco standing in the doorway. "Draco?" he croaked.
"Why are you sleeping?"
"I'm tired," Harry said, wishing he could go back to sleep.
"Well, stop being tired. Uncle Severus is talking to someone and I've no one to put the puzzle together with me."
"So?"
"So? So, you have to come down and help me," Draco snapped.
"No I don't," Harry hissed. "I don't want to help you put that stupid puzzle together. I want to read my new book and take a nap."
"Well, that's not what I want!" Draco said, his voice rising.
"Too bad, Draco! I don't want to and I don't have to."
Unbeknownst to the boys, Severus had crept up the stairs at the sounds of their angry little voices. As much as he'd wanted to avoid this confrontation, perhaps it was better to get it done now, before a coddling Narcissa could bollocks it up. Both Draco and Harry had lessons to learn here, Severus reckoned.
Draco gasped. He was so angry. He stood there, waiting for Harry to get out of bed and come down to the kitchen with him. But, Harry didn't do that. Instead, he returned his attention to his new book, trying to sound out the Latin words. The fact that Harry chose the book over him, that Harry chose his godfather over him, made Draco boil with jealousy. He charged into the room and snatched the book from Harry's hands. "I want to work on the puzzle!"
"Then go work on the puzzle!" Harry shouted as he reached for his book.
"No. You have to work on it with me."
"No I don't, Draco. Give me my book!"
"NO!"
"Why are you doing this?" Harry screamed as he untangled himself from his blankets and leapt to his feet.
"Because . . . because," Draco said, searching, groping, for the answer, "Because you're my boy! My lion! My Harry! You do what I say!" he blurted.
Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "I am not a thing," he hissed. "I don't belong to you," he roared. "I don't want to put together your stupid puzzle and I'm not going to. I'm not some little toy that you can knock about and make me do what you want!" he bellowed. Draco was supposed to be his friend, not like—well, not like his family—ordering him about as if his feelings didn't matter.
Draco stood there, blinking, having no idea what to say. The book dropped from his hands and hit the floor with a solid thump. "What did you say?"
Harry gasped and his hand flew to his mouth. How could he have said such things? He wasn't allowed to say such things. "I—I," he stammered, intending to say he was sorry. But the words were stuck in his throat—unwilling to come. Instead, he rushed past Draco and almost bowled over Severus as he darted out of the room. At the sight of Severus, Harry gasped again, stammered "I—I," again, before rushing past him and clamoring down the stairs.
Severus tried to stop Harry from running away, but the boy was too quick. Severus was almost proud of Harry's fortitude and defiance. Standing up to Draco—anyone standing up to Draco—had been a long time in coming.
"Draco," Severus growled.
Draco whirled around. His eyes grew large at the sight of his godfather.
"Sit," Severus commanded. "I think it's time we had a little chat."
Severus heard the sniffling long before he found its source. Harry had gone into hiding nearly an hour before. Severus had just finished his chat with Draco. Draco was now doing his own sniffling.
Severus moved around the basement, walking towards the sniffles. Ah, the desk. Harry was hiding under the desk. Severus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Karma, I better bloody well get some good karma for this," he muttered to himself, looking skyward, before he dropped to a crouch and shuffled forward. It was highly undignified—this crawling about on a dirty basement floor—and Narcissa was going to hear about this for years. He stopped when he could make out a little body crammed against the backside of the desk.
"What are you doing under there? You'll catch your death."
Harry sniffled again. "Sorry, sir," he murmured.
He looked so small, so vulnerable, sitting in a little ball in the back corner of the cramped space. Harry sniffled again. Severus passed him another tissue. He was beginning to like the boy, much as he loathed admitting such a foolish and sentimental thing.
"Thank you," Harry whispered.
Severus let a few moments pass before he spoke again. "That was terribly rude, I'll have you know."
Harry's head dropped. "I—I'm--"
But before he could finish, Severus started talking again. "The rules dictate that one give his opponent the opportunity to save face and apologize properly after being trounced. Draco owes you an apology, boy. It was rude not to let him give it to you."
Harry's head snapped up. "What?"
"Come out from under there," Severus said. "I'll not be having conversations with sick little boys hiding under dusty old furniture in drafty basements. Your capacity for melodrama surpasses Draco's, which I never dared believe possible. No wonder he's so enamored with you."
"What?" Harry said, not understanding half of what Severus had just said.
"Get out from under there, this instant!"
Harry scrambled to comply. He opened his mouth to apologize.
"Stop. Cease. Desist. No more apologies. You're giving me a bloody headache with all of these apologies."
Harry started to apologize for that as well before stopping himself.
"Now, Harry, I suggest we conduct our affairs elsewhere. Do you agree?"
Harry nodded. Harry still didn't know exactly what Severus was talking about, but he always seemed much happier when Harry nodded.
"Very well. Follow me. Wipe your face," he said as he glanced back at the red, blotchy-faced boy behind him.
They made it to the living room, where an equally red and blotchy-faced Draco paced and wrung his hands. At the sight of Severus and Harry, Draco flew at Harry and dragged him to the couch.
"I'm so sorry, Harry. I am. I really am. Please don't stop being my friend. Please!" he begged.
Harry was more bewildered than he'd even been in his life. Shouldn't he be the one saying these things? "Yeah, okay," he said, his eyes darting to Severus.
"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I just—I thought . . . Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Draco said as he fussed over his friend.
Harry shook his head. "I dunno."
"I told you I would still play with you if you were sick! Just because that mean old horse--"
"Draco," Severus admonished.
Draco rolled his eyes. "I mean, just because your aunt won't let me see you when you're sick doesn't mean that I don't want to play with you."
Harry nodded. "I know. It's better that you don't come. No use in you getting sick, too."
"Yet here you are, infecting us with your sniffles," Severus said, his gaze narrowed and assessing.
Harry's heart flew to his throat. He wasn't being careful! Aunt Petunia was always telling him he had to be careful. "I—I . . . I didn't . . . I just wanted . . ."
"Yes, yes you just wanted to play with your friend. Selfish little cretins, the lot of you," Severus said.
Harry nodded. Over the years he'd discovered that if he stayed quiet, people supplied the answers to their questions themselves. And the answer was usually what they wanted to believe.
"Never mind. What's done is done. Back up the stairs with you. On the bed, under the blanket. No noise, no talking, no rambunctious play," Severus said as he rose and retreated to the kitchen and the half-done puzzle.
"Come on, Harry," Draco said as he gently pulled him up. "You want the radio? I like the radio when I'm not feeling well. I can tell you another story about Mr. Culpepper if you like."
Harry nodded, still reeling from the bizarre events of the day.