A/N: Good evening (: so this took a beastly long time, and it's not even very long, or very interesting. But there we are. Sorry.
Things'll be happening in the next chapter, and we'll be getting somewhere with the whole Sirius thing, so that ought to be interesting.
I hope no one is too disappointed, and I hope I won't take such an awfully long time to write and upload the next chapter!
Ivy
Severus looked up from the morning's Prophet to shoot his ward a seething glare.
"Cease your fidgeting," he ordered curtly, shaking out the paper with a rustle, his gaze returning to the article he had been perusing. Harry dared a grimace in the professor's direction before taking a bite out of his toast, swiping with the back of his hand at his crumby lips. It was Thursday morning, and Harry would be going to his English lesson with Professor Burbage in half an hour. He'd had potions the day before, which had been a small disaster.
"Now did you read your pages?" Snape had asked when they'd sat down in the Potions classroom. The blush on the boy's face told him that no, Harry had not read the designated pages in the simple book. "Harry," he'd growled. "It was only three pages, and you had plenty of time to do it.
"I know," Harry had muttered. "But I had other stuff to do."
"You have six subjects, out of which I am practically alone in giving you homework," Snape had pointed out sternly.
"Professor Burbage does too!"
"Nevertheless, we never give you more than you can cope with."
"It's summer though," he'd muttered.
"I am well aware of the season." Snape had pinched the bridge of his nose at this point of the conversation.
"But then why do I have to study?" Harry was tired because he'd not been able to sleep, and feeling more comfortable and daring than he normally did.
"Because I have told you so. Now you will behave yourself for this lesson. And get rid of that deplorable attitude."
"I don't have an attitude," Harry had argued with a frown on his small forehead as he picked at the wooden desk.
"I beg your pardon?" Harry said nothing, refusing to look at Snape. "Corner. Now." As Harry's heartbeat quickened, he slid off his seat and hasted to the corner, suddenly uncertain of why he'd been acting the way he had.
"Finish your breakfast." Snape's voice broke Harry out of his mental recount of the previous day's lesson. He nodded and stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth, drinking his orange juice in two big gulps. "Well…" The professor had discarded the newspaper, leaving it neatly folded on the table top between them. "Did you write the paper Professor Burbage asked for?" Harry nodded obediently. "And you have checked it through for spelling and grammar errors?" Harry grimaced and Snape raised an eyebrow. "No one likes misspelled and poorly crafted essays, young man."
"I know…"
"And your handwriting needs some serious improvement. I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Burbage would need someone to translate your scribbles for her."
"Hey!"
"Don't 'hey' me," Severus snapped. Harry pouted, but straightened his face at the look his guardian sent him. Seconds later, the potions master was on his feet, brusquely straightening his cuffs. "Come along, we'd best get going." Having no objections, Harry jumped off his chair, pushed it back under the table and trotted after the tall wizard out of their dungeon quarters. "Do you have everything?" Harry, who was walking behind Snape, almost dropped his things at the professor's sudden exclamation.
"Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes I do." Severus just shook his head and kept walking.
Severus made his way to the Head's office in his usual long, determined stride, his mind miles away, which was rather unusual for the normally very collected Potions Master. Dumbledore had requested his presence in his office, as there had apparently been some kind of development with what Severus referred to as the "flee problem". Sirius' trial was scheduled for the following Monday. The process had been dragged out by the fact that the Ministry had such an awful amount of work, and there were so many people to interrogate, and the Minister was always "unavailable". Severus had not met the Mutt himself, but Dumbledore had visited him a couple of times, relaying the experience to Severus with pain in his voice. His beloved Gryffindor, he thought irritably as he rounded a corner with a flick of his robes, barking the password to the gargoyle and began ascending the stairs.
"Severus, good morning," Dumbledore greeted the second the Potions Master pulled open the door.
"Albus," he nodded in reply, seating himself on the chair opposite the sturdy desk, his back rigid as he eyed the elderly Headmaster. Dumbledore sighed, but unlike his usual sighs, this sounded rather relieved. Severus became increasingly suspicious.
"What's happened?"
"Where is Harry currently?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Why, in his lesson with Professor Burbage. Headmaster, please let us get to the matter at hand."
"Sirius wishes to see the boy," Dumbledore admitted serenely, and Snape found himself shaking his head curtly before the man had even finished his sentence.
"No."
"Severus, surely you see the—"
"The need to frighten the child out of his wits, and have him influenced by that lunatic? No, I'm afraid I do not see the necessity of that, Headmaster."
"Don't you agree that Harry should have a say in this?" he asked quietly.
"Absolutely not. The boy is eight, Albus, hardly capable of making sound decisions about his well-being."
"Of course the final decision rests with you, Severus, but if Harry wants to meet his godfather, could we really deny him that? The child has lost both his parents, and Sirius is a link to them."
"And I am not?" The Potion's Master asked humourlessly, staring the Headmaster straight in the eye.
"I wasn't aware that you and James ever saw eye to eye," Dumbledore continued in the same matter-of-fact voice.
"Regardless of my feelings towards Potter, the boy will not be visiting his godfather," Severus replied, spitting out the last word with rather impressive malice, considering his stony face.
"As you wish," Dumbledore said quietly, in a manner which told Snape the old man would have his way eventually. Of course, Severus was well aware that he would not be able to prevent their meeting for ever: as soon as Sirius was properly and officially released, he had every right in the world to see Harry. Additionally, this would present the problem of custody. Severus would be signing the adoption papers the following day, meaning that Sirius would be late with, say, two weeks. The fury the man would exhibit rather amused Severus, but he was, naturally, insightful enough to realise that Sirius could make things difficult for them.
"Thank you." And with that the conversation ended, the door closing with a muffled click.
Harry's tongue was poking out between his lips as he wrote the finishing sentence for his English assignment. When done, he dropped the quill onto the table top, shook his hand to relieve it of some of the strain, and then looked smilingly up at Professor Burbage.
"I've finished," he informed her proudly.
"Oh, splendid!" she exclaimed, sweeping the parchment up from under his nose. "I'll take a look at this 'til next English class, all right?"
"Okay, thank you."
"Now off you go. Flitwick is expecting you."
"Thanks. Bye!" He waved quickly before gathering up all his things and exiting the classroom, making his way to his next class, five doors down. He was aware that Snape had arranged for all his classes to be close together, making sure the boy would have no reason to go wandering. Harry merely sighed at this, not finding it in him to be annoyed. He didn't have to walk far this way, which was always nice.
"Harry, how nice to see you," the petit professor squeaked as Harry entered the room. Draco was already there, sitting at one of the desks, twirling his quill. He turned as Harry arrived, almost smiling.
"Hullo," Harry greeted both of them, placing his things on the desk next to Draco and slipping into the seat.
"Wonderful. Now today, I thought we'd have a spot of fun," Flitwick began, flicking his wand to close the door Harry had neglected. "We've been practising wand movements lately, and to see if you remember them all, I think we'll have a small competition." Draco and Harry's eyes met, and they both squinted. Oh I have to win this, Harry thought, knowing that Draco would never let him live down a loss. Then again, if he did win, Draco would probably get really miffed and not speak to him for days. Harry sighed quietly. Perhaps if they tied…
"Or perhaps just a game," Flitwick added hastily, having seen and correctly interpreted the glances between the two boys. Harry visibly relaxed. "Are you both ready?" Draco and Harry nodded, leaning forward on their desks to make sure they didn't miss anything. The short professor smiled indulgently and then swished his wand through the first motion.
"Wingardium leviosa," Harry said in a rush before Draco could even open his mouth.
"Precisely Harry, very good indeed!" Harry felt rather than saw the nasty glance Draco dealt him, but decided to ignore him for now. It was only a game. The next hour passed quickly as the boys continued to guess. Some of the spells were advanced enough that the boys had a hard time telling them apart. They wouldn't be trying their hand at these spells until their third or fourth year, at the earliest, but Flitwick saw no reason why they shouldn't get used to them earlier than that. About halfway through, though, Draco seemed to try and start talking to Harry, something difficult in a class of only two people. It wasn't as though the teacher wouldn't notice. Harry kept nudging him to shut up until eventually the blonde did so, huffing in irritation. Later, Harry thought.
Later proved to have to be the following day, as Draco had not stayed for lunch, and the boys had no way of speaking. And not until later that evening did Harry speak properly to his guardian, either.
"Take one bit at a time," Severus snapped at the eager child as they were having their dinner, later on that evening. Harry swallowed his food and drank some water, trying not to smile at Snape's sour demeanour.
"All right then," he agreed, popping into his mouth what would hopefully be considered "one bite", not more, not less.
"How was your charms class?" Severus asked as they polished off the last of their meals.
"Fun," Harry replied merrily. "Draco and I got to play a guessing game. Which wand movement matched which spell and stuff." Snape made sure not to make a face at this. Playing games. He trusted that Flitwick was a very competent teacher, had in fact been taught by him himself, but he saw no reason why the boys should be playing games in their classes.
"I see. And Draco was well?" The boy had not eaten lunch with Harry and Snape that day, but been picked up by a house elf straight after charms, to Harry's disappointment. Despite their occasional fights and arguments, he did enjoy having the company of someone else his age.
"I s'pose," Harry nodded, poking around in the few stray leaves left from his salad.
"You suppose?"
"Well I didn't ask him," Harry frowned. Severus rolled his eyes just as Blinky appeared and took their plates away, beaming at Harry before popping away again.
"I see. Perhaps you ought to make it a habit of asking people how they are when you meet them. It is considered a polite gesture, as you might have heard previously," Snape commented sarcastically. Harry huffed but said nothing.
"May I be excused?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"What has you rushing off in a hurry then?" he enquired.
"Nothing. I just want to go to my room." Essentially, Severus didn't mind the fact that the child wanted to excuse himself. Merlin knew he wished he got more time for himself lately, but he found it rather suspicious that the boy wasn't craving his, Snape's, presence, as he almost always did.
"Very well," he consented, and Harry slid off his chair and trotted into his room, leaving the Potions Master to stare after him in deep thought.
Harry plopped down by his desk, drumming his small fingers on the sturdy wood. What was it Draco had wanted to say? The only reason he was hooked on the thought was because he didn't generally talk a lot to Draco. They discussed school work, and Draco would occasionally relate to Harry what it was like having grown up in a wizarding household (albeit a rather wealthy one). In their class today, though, he had seemed like he wanted to tell Harry something urgent, and that had most certainly never happened previously.
He pulled out his History homework (writing a text of 400 words about one of the Knights of the Round Table from the Arthurian legends), deciding he needed to be distracted for a bit. Not to mention the fact that it was due tomorrow, and Professor Burbage would have his head if didn't hand it in on time.
When it drew near 8.30 and Harry had not reappeared in the living room, Severus abandoned his tea and book and made his way to the boy's room, intent on finding out just what kind of mischief the child was up to. He strode decisively through the short corridor, and did not knock before opening the door to Harry's room. Rather than finding the boy playing around like the nuisance he was, he couldn't even see him at first. Then his eyes fell on the desk. Harry was sitting on his chair, his cheek pressed against the parchment on the table, breathing deeply, and very clearly asleep. Severus gazed at him for a few moments before sighing and entering the room fully. Very carefully, so as to not wake him up, he lifted Harry up and carried him over to the bed, transfiguring his clothes temporarily into pyjamas before tucking him in among the sheets. Some of the ink had transferred itself onto the boy's pink cheek, and so Severus removed it with a small whip of his wand.
Once he was certain the child was settled, he turned back to the desk to see what had the boy so exhausted. On the desk lay a thin, beginner's textbook in History, open to a page about Sir Lancelot. Severus found himself fighting away a smile as he saw Harry's attempts to write an essay, each try sloppier than the other as he got more and more fatigued.
He quietly restored the text where the ink had been smudged, placed a mark in the book before closing it and then turned the lights down in the room before exiting. Perhaps I ought to sleep, too, he thought, walking back to the living room to retrieve his book and finish off his tea. Yes, that does sound like a rather splendid idea.