Second Chance - Take Two
Originally published January 2009
Revised & Re-Structured November 2014
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Potter's Bequest
Severus Snape's destination was The Burrow. He had written to Molly Weasley about Potter's broom, and had explained the situation. He wanted to meet with Ronald Weasley, to explain Potter's bequest regarding the broom, and to give it to him.
He was nervous, though, and that, in turn, irritated him. The youngest Weasley boy was still his student, a Gryffindor, and quite possibly one of his worst students next to Neville Longbottom. It did not help that he had also been angry at the Weasley boy's reaction to his de-aged friend. At the time, he had not understood why Ronald Weasley was upset at the child; even after he was told that Weasley was mourning the loss of Potter he did not truly understand. Not until that day during the Melancton Hunt when Harry had explained to him that he just was not Potter. It had been a shock that began to sink in much later that Potter was as dead as any witch or wizard that had been a casualty at the Battle of Riddle Cemetery.
Since Potter was, in an odd way, dead to those that had known, and cared about him, Severus had been adamant about honoring the few bequests Potter had made in his journal that Severus had. The teenager's beloved Firebolt broom, a gift from Sirius Black, Potter had wanted his best friend to have. His books he had wanted Hermione to have. Today, Severus was honoring those two last requests.
"Severus! How are you?" Molly waved to him from her garden. She was harvesting what appeared to be blackberries.
"I am well, Molly." He took the basket of berries as she handed them to him. Molly then stepped over a small fence that kept the blackberry bushes from the rest of the garden.
"I'm making Blackberry Tarts today and just ran out of berries. Could I send some home with you, Severus?"
"I would never turn down any of your cooking, Molly. Although, I think that Echo might be some rather good competition for you."
Molly's eyebrows rose at this uncharacteristic boasting of the young woman she had met briefly at Harry's birthday party. "I think I might have to invite you and your young lady to dinner some evening, Severus."
"Echo would enjoy that," he nodded.
Molly led him towards the Burrow. "Arthur and I just heard this morning from Bill about taking over Potions from you, Severus. He's very excited about teaching. And, settling down."
"So I heard from Albus. Bill has a fiance?" asked Severus, suddenly wondering how he'd become so easy with 'small talk'.
"Not yet, but Arthur and I are hoping. Fleur Delacour is a sweet girl, if a bit on the uppity side. She seems to adore Bill, though, and that's what's important.
"Delacour? Isn't that the young woman from Beauxbaton that took part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"
"The very same. Ron seems to be a little sweet on Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle. Now that child is a dear thing and she seems absolutely in hero worship over Ron." Molly chuckled.
"I seem to recall that it was Potter that rescued the little girl."
"Gabrielle seems to see that differently. Well, I'll get Ron for you, Severus."
They were now in the kitchen and Molly took the basket of berries from the Potions Master. Severus quickly stepped into the living room just as Molly shouted up the stairs for her youngest son. Only a few seconds later there was a rhythmic thumping on the stairs as Ronald Weasley answered his mother's call.
"Professor Snape is here to see you, Ron. Mind your manners, now and I'll be in with some tarts in a few minutes."
"Yeah, mum." Ron glared at his Potions professor who was in the living room looking at some of his mother's framed photographs of their time in Egypt when they visited his brother Bill.
Ron knew the professor was coming to see him, but neither his mother nor father would tell him why. He hoped he wasn't in trouble. He shouldn't be. It was summer, still. But, that was the 'greasy git' standing in his living room, and he'd probably find something that the Gryffindor did to take points for.
"Professor Snape?" Ron hated that his voice cracked. He coughed and the older wizard turned slowly.
"Mr. Weasley." He noted the crack in the voice and that the boy had had an obvious growth spurt this summer. Ronald Weasley was almost tall enough to look him in the eye. "Sit down, Mr. Weasley."
Ron tried to keep the smart remark from leaving his mouth as he was invited to sit on his own furniture in his own house! He sat down on the edge of the couch and gripped his hands in his lap.
"What's going on, Professor?" Ron forced himself to ask, even though his heart felt like it was ready to jump into his throat.
"I have recently come to understand your... grief at losing your friend, Potter, Mr. Weasley." Severus turned so he was not completely facing the boy, but just enough that he could see him out of the corner of his eye. "It is a strange situation we find ourselves in with a de-aged Harry Potter, but it was made very clear to me that my son, Harry Potter-Snape, is not the boy you and I knew. Potter... your friend and my student, was a strange casualty of war."
Ron hesitated and then, his gripped hands, loosened. "Hermione understood that right away. I think it was after all of us saw Harry for his birthday... I think there were others that got it, too." Ron suddenly slammed his fists to his side on the soft couch cushions. "I just wish I could understand why he did it, sir!"
Severus turned to face the youngest Weasley, and although he was nearly of age, in that moment of questioning, he was still the eleven year old innocent he'd watched getting eagerly sorted into Gryffindor.
"It was the death of his godfather, Mr. Weasley. He... loved Sirius Black." Severus sighed heavily as he felt a deep sorrow for the Harry Potter he had known before the battle; a grief for that lost, young boy. "It broke Potter."
Ron's head shot up and in his eyes was the unasked question of how the wizard who'd been his best friend's enemy knew his secrets.
"Potter left a journal. Much of it was written his last few days. He spoke mostly about Black and his guilt over the man's death, and guilt over the death of Cedric Diggory."
Ron could not speak, and to his disgust, he caught a tear rolling down his cheek. He swiped it away, but not before Snape saw it. Ron stared, hard, down at the floor, but that must have allowed more tears to run down his cheeks. The redhead was a little startled when his Potions teacher shoved, if gently, a handkerchief at him. He took it, just barely muttering his thanks, and wiped away his tears. He thought he was done with this stupid crying.
Severus felt very uncomfortable with the teenager's tears, and almost wished for an interruption from Molly. She was bustling rather loudly in the kitchen, but showed no sign of insinuating herself between the two wizards.
"Mr. Weasley, I came here because I have neglected a final request Potter made in his journal. He left what amounted to a last will and testament, and after talking with my son, I have decided that it is suitable to honour his request."
Ron looked up in curiosity just as Severus withdrew a small package from his pocket. With an Engorgio Spell he enlarged it and Ron let out a gasp as he recognised his best friend's beloved broom, his Firebolt.
"Potter wanted you to have this," said Severus handing over the broom. "My son feels that you will value it more than he would since Potter was your best friend, and you knew what the broom meant to him."
Ron took the Firebolt reverently. His mouth dropped slightly open as he ran one hand over the handle, his fingers feeling the carved dedication from Sirius. He walked closer to the window so he could read the words.
"To my beloved godson, Siri," Ron read softly out loud. For awhile he stared out the window. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was apologetic. "I know... I've been kinda distant from... from your son, sir. I do get it, now. He's not the Harry I knew." He smoothed his hand over the broom and although tears glistened in his eyes, they did not fall. "Thank you for the broom, Professor."
Severus watched as the boy walked out of the living room and out of the house. A flash from the window and he turned just in time to catch the small figure of Ronald Weasley flying high into the air on the Firebolt.
Severus' next stop was Hermione Granger's home in a modest looking Muggle neighborhood. He had transfigured his robes so that he wore a black summer jacket over a dark green, cotton shirt, black trousers, and his favourite dragon hide boots. Most Muggles mistook the dark black scales of the dragon hide for snakeskin so there was no need to disguise them.
In front of him was a picturesque, two level home painted white. The grass was neatly mowed and the garden circling the house, was a bloom of colour. In the midst of the flowers, cleverly hidden, he detected an inner garden of magical plants beneath the shimmer of a well woven Disillushionment Glamour.
Severus walked up the wide, slate path to the front door that was painted candy cane red. He rapped his knuckles upon the door. Less than a minute later the door was opened by a middle-aged man with greying hair and half lens reading glasses perched upon his nose.
"Are you Professor Snape?" asked the man.
"I am," Severus replied.
"Gregory Granger," the older man's hand shot out and met Severus' halfway. His grip was dry, and solid. "Come on in, professor. Can I get you a drink? I've got aged scotch, or herb tea, if you're not a drinker."
"Scotch would not be unappreciated, Dr. Granger," said Severus as he took a comfortably worn chair indicated by Hermione's father.
Dr. Granger went over to a sideboard where there was a bottle of scotch and several crystal glasses. He poured a measure of dark amber liquor into two glasses, and brought one over to Severus.
"You're a bit earlier then expected, Professor Snape. Hermione and her mother went into to town to do some shopping. They'll be here, though, in about ten minutes."
Hermione and her mother, Anna, arrived home twenty minutes later, but neither Severus nor Gregory Granger were aware of that fact. Both men were caught up in a sports game on the television and to Hermione's shock, her dour Potions professor was shouting colourful imprecations at the players on the TV right along with what her father was shouting. Anna clapped her hands over her daughter's ears and hustled her into the kitchen.
Anna laughed, "I'm guessing that's your professor from school, dear?"
There was another shout from the men, this time of triumph. Hermione peeked through the closed kitchen door. "I can't wait to tell Draco and Ron about this," she giggled.
"I take it he's a bit more reserved than that?" asked her mother.
"Oh very, mum. Ever since he adopted little Harry, he's been very different, though. I think having a son has mellowed him a bit."
"Children will do that to you, dear," said Anna as she began to take out the ingredients for dinner from the refrigerator. "The soldiers under your father when he was a Marine were scared to death of him."
"Did they respect Daddy, though?" she asked as she began to help her mother by preparing the salad.
"Very much so, dear. Every single one of them knew that your father was so hard with them because he wanted them to be as safe as possible when circumstances warranted it. I imagine the discipline your professor requires in his Potions class is quite similar."
"Indeed it is," came the low tones that had first sent a thrill of terror down her spine when she was a first year.
Anna turned and smiled brightly, "Professor Snape! So good to meet one of Hermione's favourite instructors."
Severus turned a dark, questioning eye upon the young Gryffindor who was blushing brightly. "Favourite, Miss Granger?"
"I... I... uhm..." she stammered and turned a vicious glare at her blabbermouth of a mother.
"Will you stay for dinner, professor?" asked Anna.
"Alas, I cannot, madame. My son is waiting for me," he declined politely.
"Well then, another time I hope. Hermione, why don't you show your teacher to your father's den. Keep the door open, mind," her mother cautioned.
"Mother!" Hermione coloured again, but flounced out of the kitchen indignantly.
With a sigh, Severus followed the embarrassed girl back out into the living room, and through another door into a wood panelled den.
"I'm sorry for that, Professor. My mother's rather parochial," she sighed.
"Your mother is only looking out for you, Miss Granger, as any parent would. Please do not apologise for that."
"Yes, sir," she replied, abashed.
Before the silence had a chance to grow awkward, Severus removed a shrunken box from his pocket. He didn't enlarge it right away.
"I am here because your friend Potter left what amounted to a final bequest before de-aging himself. He asked that his broom go to Ronald Weasley. I delivered it this afternoon. For you, he wished you to have his books." He enlarged the box and placed it on the floor.
Hermione knelt down, and looked through the books. They were Potter's textbooks, but also all the books he had ever been given as gifts. She lifted one that she gave to him for Christmas their first year. The book was titled 'Famous Wizards That Lived As Muggles'. The book was very worn, the spine was cracked, and its pages were marked by dozens of little yellow post-it notes.
Severus seated himself in the only chair then leaned over to pick up a book. It, too, had pages marked by post-it notes. "I never thought Potter was much of a reader," he mused softly. "In flipping through some of the books that weren't his textbooks, he made hundreds of notes in the margins."
Hermione smiled as she opened the book she still had in her hands and read on the frontispiece, 'From Hermione, Christmas 1991'. "I was always telling him not to write in his books but he'd always counter by telling me that if he wrote notes the way I did, he'd lose them."
"It is possible to lose books," said Severus.
Hermione shook her head. "Not his."
"A spell?" asked Severus.
"No. Harry just really valued everything that was ever given to him, sir. His trunk was always crammed full of his stuff and was kind of messy, but he knew exactly where everything was. He was really happy in our second year when I taught him how to shrink things."
"Potter never threw anything away?" the Potions professor was astonished at this part of Potter he'd never known.
Hermione shook her head. "Not one single thing." Hermione put the book back carefully, and then took the one that Severus held. Staring down at the books, she asked, "Sir, Har... uhm... Potter's wand? And, the cloak from his father? Do you have them?"
"The Invisibility Cloak is in James Potter's vault at Gringott's which Harry will have access to when he is sixteen. As for the wand..." Severus let out a deep breath. "It was an unfortunate casualty at the Battle at Riddle Cemetery."
Hermione sniffled softly. There were no tears as she was sure she had cried them all. Picking up another book from the box she was surprised when an envelope fell from its pages. Putting down the book she picked up the envelope.
"Professor, it's dated the end of July, 1995," Hermione stared at the envelope in her hands. She started to open it when he stopped her by laying a hand over hers.
"Miss Granger, Potter left a journal in which he spoke… fondly… of you. I think you may wish to read his words in private."
Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Professor. For everything." She rose to her feet, and then picked up the box, leaving Severus behind in her father's den.
Once in her room Hermione put down the box of books then sat upon her bed. For a moment she stared at the envelope a little afraid of what might be written inside it. After a few minutes she drew in a deep breath, opened the envelope, and took out the one page letter. She studied the handwriting that had been so familiar to her when she, Ron, and her Harry did homework together in Gryffindor tower. As further proof that the Harry Potter she had been best friends with was not the Harry Potter-Snape the son of Professor Snape was in the handwriting. Her best friend had never quite mastered using a quill pen whereas the little boy had confidence with his quill. With a small, sad chuckle, she began to read the last words of her best friend…
Dear Hermione,
I think you'll understand why I am de-aging myself. I have the potion made and I was about to drink it but then I knew I had to write to you.
I'm sorry for doing this to you. I wish you and I could have had a long friendship. I wish my heart didn't hurt so much.
Your friendship meant the world to me and I'm not sure my books are enough for you, and I know you hate flying.
I love you, Hermione, and I am sorry I never got brave enough to kiss you. I don't think it would have led to anything but it would have been a nice memory.
I do have something I can sort of give you. Malfoy… Draco's got a crush on you. He probably doesn't know I know but he left his Charms book behind in class once and Professor Flitwick asked me to take it to him. I looked inside the book. Your name was written all over the inside cover. With hearts. I was going to make fun of him before I gave the book back then I saw a drawing he made of you in Charms class. I just got this feeling that he has feelings for you you know?
If Draco ever does get brave and tell you he likes you would you give him a chance?
Anyway…
Hermione, I love you. Thanks for being my friend, and for looking out for me when I was an idiot. I didn't write to Ron because he might think I was getting all mushy but will you tell him that I love him, too, and I'm sorry? I hope he likes my Firebolt.
Bye Hermione.
Harry
Hermione dropped her friend's letter onto her lap, and the tears she thought had faded returned.
Severus was never more pleased to be met by his son the moment he Apparated to the cottage. Harry had been playing with his Gobstones while Hector tried, hopelessly, to sleep under the great olive tree. The dog was sparkling from confetti and glitter, and currently had his paws over his ears in protest against the noisier Gobstones. When Harry heard the loud pop just outside the gate he abandoned the colourful set of Gobstones and ran into his father's arms.
Quite possibly, Severus Snape's greatest secret was that he, too, had mourned the loss of Potter. Not with tears or sadness as his friends did, but he mourned the fact that no one, not even himself, had seen how desperate the young boy had been to have someone, an adult... a parent, that truly cared for him. This was a secret that Potter had confessed, through tears of his own grief, upon the pages of his journal that Severus had read- Oh dear Merlin it feels like an age ago!- yet had been just over a year.
That desperation, that plea to anyone listening to his anguished heart, had been the nail in the coffin, morbidly speaking, for Severus' determination to adopt Harry. Had it not been for the collapse of Cornelius Fudge and those corrupt officials beneath him, the adoption, even with the endorsement of Albus Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and Minerva McGonagall, might not have gone through. Knowing that he was not just Harry's father legally, but biologically as well, was a blessing he kept close to his heart every single day.
As he held his son in his arms, kissing his cheeks and tickling his ribs so he could hear his bubbly laughter, he swore he could hear, very faintly on the breeze, an old, familiar voice that whispered,'thank you, Severus, thank you for our son's happiness'.
Dinner that evening had been chosen by Harry: chicken gyros. He recently tasted lamb gyros during a visit to the Sunday Market and had been absolutely horrified when he found out he had eaten 'a baby sheep'. However, Harry liked the taste of gyros and was prepared to eat them sans meat, when Echo created the chicken gyros for him.
Over dinner, Harry had an odd request for his father.
"A house elf?" he frowned, tapping his napkin to his lips.
"Dobby is his name, Dad, and he's a free house elf. He wears clothes that Hermione and Mrs. Weasley made for him. Dobby said he was my friend, so I'd like to know if he can come and play someday."
Out of the corner of his eye Severus caught Echo smirking. "Find this amusing, do you, my dear?" he snapped with a teasing lilt.
"A play date with a house elf," giggled Echo. "I think it's delightful!"
"Hmph!" grunted Severus.
Harry did not quite get the joke between the adults but they were doing that quite a bit lately so he just ignored it. "Please, Dad?" he begged, really trying not to whine.
"You do know Draco will be arriving this Friday," began Severus with that ominous tone of voice that usually meant he was going to say no.
"I know! But we cleaned the cottage, and his room's made up, can't Dobby come, Dad? I'll be really, really good! I won't even fly on my broom and I'll give Hector an extra walk.
Hector, seated on the floor between Echo and Harry where he would get the most sneaked table scraps, perked up at the mention of a walk. His tail thumped enthusiastically.
"All right..."
"Yay!"
"No yelling at the table!" scowled Severus sharply.
Harry clamped his mouth shut, but then grinned, and rasped in an exaggerated whisper, "Yippiee?"
Severus' right eyebrow rose acerbically. "Indeed. I shall Floo call your grandfather after dinner and ask him to see if..."
"Dobby."
"...if Dobby is available for a play date." Imperceptibly his eyes rolled and Echo just laughed.
Severus knelt by the fireplace with his head in green flame. In the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore looked at him with a twinkling smirk on his face.
"Who is the elf Harry wishes a play date with, Severus?"
"A free elf called Dobby. Apparently Harry had an encounter with the elf in the Hogwarts kitchen when he was chasing after Hector the night you babysat."
"Oh yes. I do recall that. Minerva and I had to suffer through Harry's favourite chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream for breakfast since Dobby was so very delighted in meeting the child." Albus twinkle faded perceptibly. "It seems there is something that is too sweet, even for me."
Severus grimaced. He had indulged in those diabetic inducing pancakes just once with his son, and regretted it. It was one of the few dishes he would not allow Harry to have. How his child could like them was beyond him.
"Give me a moment, Severus."
Severus pulled his head out of the Floo and rose, his knees cracking. He winced, and wondered, not for the umpteenth time, what had happened to his 'communication mirror' that the Mutt had created for some of the Order members during the war.
Floo calling was easy over the Floo Network, but it was a nuisance to have to bend over, or kneel. Albus had singed his beard and eyebrows countless times, and once had burned his hand rather badly because he had just been too old for the contortions required for Floo calls.
Severus tapped his chin thoughtfully. Charms were not his forte, but Miss Granger was a clever witch especially where Charms were concerned. Perhaps she might be up for a project to re-create the 'communicating mirrors'. If she could get it to work, her financial future would not only be set, but 'mirror calling' would be much more convenient for a good portion of the wizarding world.
"My boy!" Albus' head came through the green flame just as it whooshed.
"Yes, Albus?"
"Dobby would love to come and play with Harry. Would tomorrow at noon be a good time?"
Severus glanced back at Harry who was bouncing eagerly on the sofa. He smirked. "It would be perfect, Albus. From noon until five o'clock."
"Very good, then."
"Hi, Grandpa!"
"Hello, child," smiled Albus. "Are you being a good boy for your father and Echo?"
"I am, Grandpa."
"I'm glad to hear it. I shall say farewell and goodnight, then."
Harry and Severus echoed their farewells to Albus and his head vanished.
"Thanks, Dad!"
"You are welcome, child. Will you go and take your bath now?"
Without replying, Harry zipped out of the living room, down the hall, and into his bedroom.
Severus heard a snigger behind him. "Oh will you stop laughing?" He snarled at Echo as he grasped her by the wrist.
"I can't help it," she said as her eyes sparkled with her amusement. "A play date with a house elf."
He pulled Echo down into his lap as another small bout of laughter escaped her. He kissed her soundly, stopping the laughter.
Hermione had been notified by owl during breakfast the next day that Professor Snape had a possible Charms project for her. Very curious as to what that might be she accepted the meeting for ten o'clock that day.
She now sat in the living room of the cottage Professor Snape had rented for the summer for himself and Harry. After an enthusiastic greeting from her favourite student Harry, he had then gone off to play at the beach with Echo.
"I'm very curious about this Charms project you have for me, Professor Snape," began Hermione as she sat demurely on the sofa.
"It is the re-creation of a magical device that was used by key members of the Order of the Phoenix," replied Severus. "Sirius Black charmed small hand mirrors that allowed the members of the Order to contact each other. This form of communication removed the inherent danger of a Floo call by someone not getting out of the way of the normal flames, and the additional inconvenience of kneeling on the hearth. Black had also charmed the mirrors so they were secured so that no one could intercept the call."
Hermione was intrigued. "And there are none of these mirrors left, sir?"
Severus shook his head. "Lost or broken, I am afraid. I believe, though, that you, Miss Granger, all ready considered a Charms prodigy by your teacher, may have the wherewithal to duplicate the device. If you are successful our entire world would find the ability to communicate by mirror a vast improvement over a Floo call."
Hermione's face lit up as her teacher explained what he needed. "This will be wonderful, sir!" grinned Hermione. "I'm sure I can do this. Thank you, Professor Snape."
To his horror the witch jumped up, and wrapped her arms around her teacher and squeezed. He was being… hugged! Shifting from his student's embrace he held her at length from himself by grasping her upper arms.
"Miss Granger!" Severus spluttered.
"When I succeed, sir, you'll get the first mirror!" said Hermione. "I have to go. I have to do research, and find some hand mirrors, and… oh! Thank you, again, professor!"
To Severus' somewhat stunned look he watched the girl throw Floo powder into his fireplace, and vanish. At that moment Echo and Harry arrived back from their play; and Harry was upset.
The young witch forgotten, Severus centred his attention upon his son. He knelt down on one knee. "Harry? What is the matter?" Taking a handkerchief from his pocket he dabbed at the boy's tears. That was when he noticed Harry was holding his arm against his stomach.
"I busted it, Daddy, and it hurts a lot," sniffled Harry.
Echo explained, "A small rock got in the way of our game of ball toss on the beach, and Harry tripped trying to side-step Hector. I'm fairly certain he broke his arm. I don't have any training in any healing spells, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, Severus."
"I can alleviate some of the pain, Harry." Harry nodded as his father waved his wand over the broken arm.
"Feels better," Harry breathed.
"It is temporary, child. I am going to exam your arm but let us move to the sofa so that you may sit down." Severus stood, and escorted his son over to the sofa. They both sat down, and Severus gently moved Harry's right arm away from his stomach.
"Ow…" Harry gasped more from the worried expectation of pain.
Severus examined the injured limb, unconscious of a gentle clucking noise he was making with his tongue that Harry somehow found soothing. There was a growing bruise on the forearm that hinted at a greater injury beneath. Harry gasped as his father palpated the bruise to feel the broken bone beneath.
"Ahhh, there tis," said Severus at the discovery of the break. "And, are you not the lucky little boy."
"I am?" Harry could not understand how a broken arm was lucky.
"Just a few days ago I brewed some Skele-Gro to replenish the supplies at Hogwarts," explained Severus touching his son's cheek with his fingertips. "Accio Skele-Gro for Harry."
"But I'm not a big boy, Daddy," Harry whispered in concern. He had learned a lot about dosages of medicine since he and his father brought the Melancton Flower and seeds home.
"Not yet but what did I just Summon?" Severus held up his hand just as a purple bottle slapped into the palm of his hand. He handed the bottle to Harry who took it with his good hand.
"Harry Potter-Snape's Junior Skele-Gro for children under the age of eleven." He glanced up at his father, and smiled. "You made this just for me, Daddy?"
Severus gave his son a small smile of pride. "Yes, and for every young witch or wizard under the age of eleven." He took the bottle from his son and broke the wax seal as he opened it. "I designed this pretty, yet very functional purple bottle to provide the precise measured dose for a young one like you. Now, go ahead and try it out, Harry."
Harry took the bottle, looked down at its curious opening, and put it to his lips. He then put it down. "I know this tastes yucky, Daddy. Will you hold my nose shut? I don't have an extra hand." Severus delicately pinched his child's nostrils together, and Harry drank down a measure of the awful Skele-Gro. "Yuck!"
Severus fashioned a quick immobilising sling for his son's arm, and then he scooped him up. "I added a sedative to the Skele-Gro so you will be able to sleep while the medicine repairs the bone."
Harry yawned as his father carried him to his room. "Are you gonna kiss Echo while I sleep, Daddy?"
A giggle behind Severus alerted him to Echo following behind him. "I suppose I might. Would that be all right, Harry?" asked Severus.
"Ye-ep!" Harry stretched out his good arm as Echo Summoned his dragon, and gave it to him. "Give Echo a Harry kiss, Daddy? 'Kay?"
Leaning over his son Severus kissed his child's temple. "I promise. Sleep well, little one."
Severus and Echo left Harry's bedroom. They both started to walk towards the living room when Severus stopped. He caught Echo to himself, and kissed her cheek. "That is for my son." He then smirked wickedly. "This next one is for me."
So, Severus kissed Echo until she could no longer stand up.