harry potter with KS

Harry scowls as Ron gives him an apologetic look. He glares as Ron gently pushes the parchment across his desk, "Look, mate, I'm not happy about it either. But you /know// they're scared."

He snatches the parchment into his hand, wishing he could set it aflame with just a nasty look. Unfortunately, his anger isn't strong enough to ignite his magic like that. Not when he has the elder wand on his holster. The damned thing /will not go away//. No matter how often he snaps it.

Now he just keeps it with him, since it's less effort. Just like the damned stone and his father's cloak.

He sighs at the writing, "But the /veil//?"

Ron groans, leaning on the wall with a sort of defeated posture, "Azkaban gets broken into whenever there's a dark lord, Harry. The Wizen-"

"Those jerks don't understand anything! They should know I won't allow this!" He looks at Ron, and they both know not to mention Sirius, and the hole the man left in his heart. The man wasn't much of a guardian, but he was all Harry had. Not even Remus really counted. Hell, he could say /Pettigrew// was in his life longer than Remus was.

And the man was a rat through most of that time, while living with Ron and Percy!

Ron grimaces. "That's probably why people mainly went to the Minister. Percy says they didn't pull any strings." Having an older brother, who had connections to the higher-ups, has an advantage sometimes.

But it doesn't make any of this any less of a pain in the ass.

"Even then, what exactly is it going to help?" Harry asks, frustrated. "For all we know, the executions will be seen as some kind of martyr sacrifice."

"People are scared, Harry!" Ron retorts. "This new Dark Lord is from the sound of it, even worse than you-know-" He stops himself at the tired look he gets from Harry. "Sorry, force of habit. Voldemort."

Harry stares down at the slightly crumpled parchment, the writing surprisingly blunt. He knows his voice is tired, but he can't help it, saying, "Executions in the /veil//, Ron." He stares at his best friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, "I can't...."

Ron moves next to him, patting his back gently, "I know, Harry. I know. That's why I showed you." He points at a lower part, tapping it, "You can make an inspection of it, Harry. Your magic is one of the few they'll listen to. You'll need to inspect it, and find /something// wrong with it."

He scowls, "And go under a truthsayer stone to verify it." He likes the things more than he likes the truth potion, but he hates how they touch his magic and rub against his skin. Most people can't feel anything, but he can. He thinks it has to do with his wand, but not even Malfoy feels the same about them.

Ron gives him a half-heated smile, "Want to see if we can shut this down?"

Harry stands up, grabbing the parchment, "Yes."

Ron hurries along next to him, easily catching up with his longer legs. While Harry does an angry power walk, Ron looks like he's doing a casual sort of lope next to him. His best friend says, "I got the permits to do this for you already."

He chuckles, "You would." Ron's life as an auror really settled him down, and the engagement ot Hermione makes him think further ahead. It's nice. Ron gives him the permits, "Actually, it's mostly Percy. He doesn't like this, either. He's hoping you can stop it."

"Let's hope so." Harry mutters. "Who else is going to be there?"

"Shacklebolt," Ron says, "Malfoy too, I think? And one of the new guys from the Department of Mystery, whats-his-name, Owlsman. He's in charge of the Veil, and he's also the one who has been petitioning for the use of the Veil."

"Why would he want this in the first place?" Harry asks, a tad grouchy. "If he's from the Department of Mystery, he should know how dangerous the Veil is."

Ron manages a nonchalant shrug. "If it works, that's all some people need sometimes." He says, trying to sound casual, but failing slightly. Harry knows it's his way to try and disarm things a bit, to keep conversations from becoming too heated. But it can be a tad frustrating sometimes.

Hermione would probably have a sharp retort ready, but Harry just grimaces and concentrates on walking towards the nearest lift, Ron following suit.

The ride to the proper floor is as frustrating and nerve wracking as always. Harry only barely stops himself from grinding his teeth and slowly shredding the parchment. They hurry to the proper door, Harry shoving the proper paperwork at the various people trying to stop him. Most are smart enough to just get out of his way, but a few are stupid enough to try to demand he stop.

He barely notices as they pass, shoving himself along, Ron close behind.

The veil room is as... eerie as ever.

He walks in, slow and cautious. Shacklebolt off to the side. The minister looks tired as he says, "The Wizengamot is pushing hard, Harry."

He glances over at his friend, and shakes his head, "I'm going to try to shut it down."

"The latest Dark leader is treacherous, Harry."

He scowls, stalking to the veil, "So have the dementors take their souls instead of letting them sit in the prison. We don't need to use /this//." He can feel it whisper and call for him, his magic moving like smoke in the wind, pulled to it.

He stays at the edge, staring at it.

"Not this," he murmurs, seeing afterimages of Sirius falling through, laughter in his eye. He shakes his head, forcing his eyes away, and gathering his magic back in close. "It's dangerous."

Minister Shacklebolt walks to his left side, Ron is already on his right. The larger man rests a careful hand on his shoulder, likely trying to be comforting. He pushes it off him. Shacklebolt sighs, staring at the veil, "They say they'll just shove them through."

"At least it is quick, compared to a Dementor kiss." A new voice speaks up. Owlsman fits his name, by being a small man with a slight hunched look, his eyes looking enormous because of the spectacles he wears. His whole stance and demeanor reminds Harry of a predatory bird as he stalks forward.

"Besides," Owlsman adds, his tone cold as he gives Harry an examining look, "the Dementors have not been considered trustworthy, due to the circumstances of the last war. The new Dark Lord will make use of this. Better to strike first, with the least expected use of the Veil."

Harry returns the examining look with a slight glare of his own. "And what if someone turns out to be innocent, after they have been thrown in? Can't exactly just pull them back out, and then tell them 'oh sorry, we made a mistake,' now can we?" He gave Shacklebolt a pointed look at that, the Minister shifting uncomfortably.

Sirius had been given a trial, post-mortem after the war, but while it had worked for his reputation, it wouldn't bring him back.

Owlman scoffs, "As if that would happen."

He looks at the man, straightening his back, and stalkign closer, his gait stiff and angry, "My /godfather// was innocent.. He went through that veil, and /never came back//. Now tell me, why should I want this to be used?"

Owlman huffs, and he can almost see feathers fluffing in defensiveness, but Harry's magic swirls around him, touching and tugging at the other man's, trying to get him to back down. Unfortunately, Owlman is too sure of himself, or just can't notice how Harry's magic swirls. "He hadn't had a trial before that. We just don't push anyone in without a trial. That was a severe miscarriage of justice, Mr. Potter. It won't be allowed again."

He presses a little closer, and he knows Ron is uncomfortable with the force of his magic, his best friend smart enough to back off. "And should an innocent be thrown through anyway? I think, Mr. Owlman, I would feel safer if you would make a vow to go in yourself, should an innocent go through."

"You are overstepping your bounds, Mr. Potter!" Owlman scowls behind his glasses, "I will do no such-"

"Harry," Shacklebot says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. "Please. I know this is a personal thing for you. Just... inspect it, and we will see what we can do."

He reluctantly moves away from the disgusting creature, and back to the even fouler veil. "Very well. But if I find /anything// wrong-"

"That you /didn't// break!? Owlman screeches. "I have my eyes on you, Mr. Potter! You will /not// break it!"

He mentally gives the man the two fingered salute, and can feel his magic do the same. Ron snorts, clearly feeling it, while Shacklebolt sighs. Owlman, however, can't feel the insult directed at him. The man is far too dim to live.

He moves closer to the veil, and takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, finding his center.

He almost doesn't want to turn around to face the veil. This whole thing makes his skin itch, the strange magic surrounding the Veil seeming to move against his own magic, and curl around it, almost as though caressing it. He shudders, finally forcing himself to turn towards the damn thing...

And once he finally is turned, he takes a moment, frowning as he glares at the Veil. The very fabric covering the strange opening oozes with strange magic, seeming to beckon him towards it, though he resists the feeling of it. He wants nothing more than to blast the archway to smithereens and let Owlsman clean up the rest.

But no. He has to follow protocol, and with a deep, angry breath, he takes a step towards it.

The arch has all sorts of arcane runes that he vaguely recognizes, if only because Hermione helped him out, and he has to use them for auror work. He wishes he'd taken runes in Hogwarts, but now he gets to scrape through it on his own.

He clears his thoughts, going back to what his brain is trying its hardest to avoid. Licking his dry lips, he steps closer, and flicks his wrist, his holly and phoenix feather wand sliding into his hand. He starts to raise it, but his magic clangs and /jangles// through it, making him wince. Wow, that hurts his entire arm. "Merlin," he mutters, switching to the elder wand.

He gasps as he feels the magic sort of .. coalesce. He can feel his magic attaching in a way that feels all too perfect, and he's brought to his knees.

"Harry!" Ron yells, and he can hear the jumping sort of run his friend does when he wants to go very fast, and then Harry's magic flexes, sending Ron flying, and the vibrations run all the way through him, shaking the veil.

Shacklebolt calls, "Harry? Are you oka- Oh... Merlin's beard...."

Harry's eyes are unfocused, and all he is having trouble even breathing. He falls down, face first, and can feel his magic dragging him closer. Everything about his body is limp and relaxed, and he just.. can't fight it.

His last thought, before being dragged into the veil, is, 'Looks like no one else will be shoved in here. Not when the man demanding it sent their old savior through it with the veil's own power.'

Then it goes dark.

--

He finds himself in a place, surrounded by white fog. It is strangely comfortable, yet at the same time, Harry can't get over the feeling that something is wrong. It almost reminds him of the final battle with Voldemort, of when he met Dumbledore at the King's Cross station... But there is nothing, not even a sign or anything resembling train tracks, or even the freaky baby thing that was left of Voldemort's soul.

There is, however, a sound of footsteps, coming up from behind him, and Harry spins around, readying his wand.

A figure is moving towards him, clad in a robe with a hood, that hides the other's features. Harry does get an impression of what might be eyes, blazing blue under the hood like twin flames. It fills him with an eerie, creeping sensation and for some reason it makes him lower his wand as the figure comes to a stop before him.

The figure is incredibly tall, at least a head or so higher than Harry, and the robe makes it impossible to tell if it is a man or a woman. And as close as the other is, Harry can't for the life of him see the other persons face.

'-It is not your time.-' A voice, deep and resonating, sounds in his head. Harry nearly jumps out of his skin, and can only stare at the figure, who continues to stare at him. When Harry doesn't answer at once, the figure 'speaks' again, the tone changing a bit, sounding almost annoyed. '-May I ask what you hoped to accomplish, Master of Death, by going through the Veil?-'

Harry frowns now, noting how the tone is almost accusatory, as though the figure is blaming him for being pulled through the Veil.

"All I wanted to accomplish, was to keep people from using the veil." He says, a tad peevish. "I didn't plan on diving headfirst into it!"

The figure crosses its arms, looking down at him in disapproval, vaguely reminding him of Petunia. '-And yet, here you are. My Master dead before his time, and ruining many things besides.-'

He frowns, looking at the figure, then the gears sort of grind and click, he finally asks, cautious, "Death?"

The figure puts his face in one hand, the voice in his head not muffled like it should be, '-Why did I get the dumb one? Some places get the /smart// one. But me? No, I get the idiot.-'\

"Hey!" he yells, "I'm not /stupid//! I just... don't think ahead, and-"

Death puts a hand up, stopping his rant before it can really start, '-You ruined a great deal of plans coming here. But, my /Master//,-' the figure sneers the word, like it is worse than stepping in a pile of shit, '-can fix a few... problems now that you're here.-'

He stares at death, frowning, "How come I don't call the shots when I'm your master?" Since it seems to be a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.

'-It only means that you can not truly be killed before your time, and I am /forced// to take you back out. However, I can choose where and when you go, and I want you to /fix// things.-'

He makes a face, "I fixed enough as it is, and-"

'-Sirius Black-,' Death says, holding out a hand, the image of his godfather on it, 'Died at thirty-six. Died due to my Master's foolishness. Should have lived to one hundred and twelve.-'

He freezes, eyes filled with longing, "I can save him?"

He gets the impression of a smirk, but he ignores it, heart tearing as the image of Sirius disappears, crushed in a skeletal hand. '-Him and more, Master mine. So very many more.-'

He looks at Death, but is unable to keep contact with those eyes, his gaze keeps dropping to the fist with no more images of his godfather. "Is... is there a price?"

'-There is always a price, little Master. There is /always// one. I will send you to the time where you become the owner of one of the hallows.-'

He straighten, rubbing his chin, "At eleven, Christmas. Alright, I can work with that."

Death chuckles, and it is incredibly unsettling, '-If you can find the stone, you can call me to you. It can not be destroyed by mere fiendfyre. Use that to clean the taint of it, not a sword. I will not have it cracked again. If it is damaged, I will send you back /again//, and in significantly worse shape than this time.-'

Well, that's incredibly worrying. "So, uh, what's the price?"

Death moves forward, too fast and too close, reaching with both hands, running them through his hair, touching his chin, his eyebrows, other places, all over his body. Every single part of him, as if clothing means nothing at all. He freezes, unable to move. Nothing about the touch is sensual or comforting, it's like having a large dangerous creature touch and hold him as it inspects him for how tasty his meat will be.

When Death moves away, all he can do is shake, curled up in fear and terror. He wants to pull on Gryffindor courage, but it fails him. His brain telling him to fight will only mean worse than the touch and inspection. His stomach churns, and he moans in pain and horror.

Death's magic feels /smug// as it rubs against him, possessive and sucking at him. He feels like a mouse listening to the rumble and pull of a vacuum while the cat plays with him, all claws and teeth. His tail out, dangling as he's slowly pulled to his doom.

He's glad when Death moves far enough away, and he's shaky as he forces himself to stand. He looked Voldemort in the eye and told the man to go fuck himself, but Death is a whole other realm. His teeth chatter and he holds himself with both arms. "W-was... was that your price?" he murmurs, unable to say more.

'-I took the least I could, little Master. Be happy I didn't take more.-'

He stares blankly at Death, unsure what to say.

He stares at the floor while Death does /something//. It's beyond Harry's horrified and twitchy comprehension. It only feels worse as Death grabs him by the back of the shirt, bone fingers scraping his skin, and tosses him through something.

--

Harry lands in his cupboard.

He looks around, not sure what's even going on, but he reaches up, turning on his light. He takes a deep breath, and frowns in confusion.

This isn't Hogwarts.

Something else is wrong. His body feels wrong. Different. He imagines that he can still feel Death's almost cold touch all over his body, and he shudders curling up on himself, while rubbing his arms-

He is wearing a shirt that is far too big for him. He frowns, and feels over the fabric, which is well worn cotton, before he sits up to properly look at himself.

His body is small, and the cupboard seems so much bigger than it was the year he got his Hogwarts letter. He frowns, trying to get a feel for his magic. It is there, but it is... different. Very much like before he became the Master of Death.

It's ... discomforting?

Like he's missing a chunk of him that has no reason to be missing?

He just kind of... stares at the wall as he searches his magic. He keeps trying to reach out with it, but it barely goes further than an inch, maybe two. /At most//.

It's terrible, especially since he's so used to it going for meters around him. Filling the space around him, too large to be stuck inside of him.

He barely feels the fullbody shudder that goes through him.

He blinks a little bit later, a sharp rap at the cupboard door, "Get /up//, boy. You need to make breakfast!"

He knows that voice. He's kind of been trying to avoid this, since he was sort of hoping this was all a mistake. But no, Petunia brings it all home. It's so /clear// now.

"I'm in hell."

"What did you just say?" she screeches like a badly tuned harpy. "That won't get you out of doing chores!" She yanks open the cupboard door, and freezes as she stares at him, "What did you /do//?"

Before Harry can say anything, he is grabbed by the neck of the too big shirt and /yanked// out of the cupboard, and he yelps when his hand is almost caught in the door, as his aunt slams it shut.

"Vernon!" Petunia practically screeches, and Harry freezes for a moment when he catches his reflection in a small, long mirror that has always hung on the wall opposite of the stairs. His hair, every single strand, along with his eyebrows (and he is pretty certain his eyelashes too) are a complete shock of white. On top of that, he is /tiny//. But he knows just /how// tiny he is.

And knowing (and remembering far too well) how the Dursleys react to 'freaky magic' is enough to make the now only four year old wizard panic. So he does the only thing he can think of:

He twists himself free out of the steely grip of his aunt and turns on the spot, desperately wishing to be anywhere but here-

And with a sudden audible *POP*, he tumbles forward, landing on the grass in the middle of an old playground. Harry doesn't recognize it for a moment, and it doesn't matter for said moment. All he is concerned about now, is how his magic, despite being weakened considerably, is still working in his favor.

He stumbles a little, looking around. Oh... huh. He /thinks// he knows this place?

He walks to the swingset, and leans against it. His magic touching and... tasting it, for lack of a better word. He actually has to touch the metal now to test it, which is a frustration, but he'll live. But from the magic he feels, yeah.

This seems to be the neighborhood his mom grew up in.

Which means...

He turns slowly in the correct direction, tilting his head. That way. Yeah, that way feels right. He knows where Severus Snape lives, if Harry is four. He also knows, if the man is alive, the vow will force him to keep Harry safe.

And Petunia has tried braining him with a fryingpan a few too many times for him to /ever// consider living with her as 'safe.'

With that in mind, he sets off in the direction of Spinner's End. He has to climb through a hole in the fence, which is nearly grown over with thorny branches, but his magic and his small body helps him ease through, only getting nicked slightly by some of the thorns.

On the way, as he finds the path that will lead directly to the house, he ponders on what to tell Severus Snape. Telling him that he's a time traveller is out, at least for the moment. Even if he did tell him, he couldn't exactly go up to Snape and tell him: 'By the way, Death has sent me back to fix mistakes I have made in the past, so any help you could provide would be lovely, thank you so much.'

Oh yes, that would go over well with the dour potions master.

Spinner's End soon comes into view, and Harry stops near the gate, sensing some kind of magic that has been placed on it. It's nothing harmful, merely a couple of spells in the form of avert-your-eyes kind of spells (probably to keep curious or nosy muggles away) and a single alarm trigger, to signal that someone has entered through the gate anyway. Whether or not it informs Snape that the visitor is magic or muggle, Harry can't currently tell.

He's a little bitter that he can't tell. Just less than an /hour// ago, he wouldn't even need to be this close and know every detail.

Ugh, he either needs to learn to expand his magic like that, or find all of his things. At least he knows he owns the cloak, even if he isn't sure where the hell that is. While he knows where his wand and stone are.

He waves his hand close to the gate, letting his magic taste it, and it doesn't get any clearer. Damn Snape. /Damn him//. The man would use something he made himself, and is harder to detect. It's annoying!

Well, Gryffindors forward, and all that rot.

He puts a hand on the gate, opens it up, and walks through.

He only makes it three paces when the door opens, and Severus opens the door, staring at him. "What in the..."

He stares at Severus, looking right at his nose, knowing with his current magic, he can't keep up a mental shield to save his life. "Hi!" he says cheerfully, waving a hand. "I'm Harry. I'm /four//."

Severus stares at him for a very long moment, eyes darting to where Harry's scar is. His scar is actually looking a million times better than it was when he was four the first time, but he knows it looks bad right now, anyway. Kind of red, inflamed, a little blood. But...

He pokes at it mentally, pushing his magic at it.

Huh, no horcrucx. Score.

Snape is still staring, his expression completely unreadable. But 'unreadable' is a little better than 'unveiled disgust' for now, Harry decides.

"What are you doing here?" the Potions Master demands, as though he is questioning a first-year in class.

Honestly, what exactly does he want him to say?

"Do you know where I am?" Harry asks suddenly. "I was in my cupboard, but then aunt Petunia grabbed me and now I'm here!"

Snape still stares, frowning slightly now, as though trying to decipher the four-year-old's words.

Harry decides to do stupid things he knows /Teddy// did at four, and skips closer, a cheerful smile on his face. "I like it here more!"

Severus finally asks, "Cupboard?"

He nods cheerfully, "Yup! I get put in there 'cause I'm a /freak//." He kind of loves how the man flinches at that word. Honestly, Harry does, too. Unless he's the one calling himself that, of course. "I guess this is being a freak, too." He looks around, "I like this place." And he does. He's spent a summer here, while working on his tests for aurors. It was far cleaner and safer than Grimauld Place.

Severus looks down at him, "What do you mean by freak?"

"Things!" He looks around, "My hair is white now, 'cause I'm a freak."

Man, is he overplaying the 'I'm four' card? He can't tell.

Severus frowns, looking around now, before finally making a decision with himself. "Why don't you come inside?" He asks, his voice sounding strange, but not sneering or rude. He steps to the side, motioning for Harry to come in.

Deciding to play a bit more on the 'trusting four year old' card, Harry happily skips inside, looking around wide-eyed at the different things. For one thing, there is what looks like a working distillery set of some kind, with multiple beakers containing bubbling, colorful liquids that is set up on a table nearby. Severus must have been working on a potion or spell component of some kind, when Harry arrived.

"Wicked!" he exclaims, and makes a faint attempt to move towards the set (as any curious four-year-old would), but a heavy hand on his shoulder stops him.

He stops easily, letting Severus say, "Don't go near that."

He nods, "Okay, but I'm /real good// at cooking!" He beams up at Snape cheerfully, "Aunt Petunia told me I gotta earn my keep! I've been cooking /forever//!"

He can see the hurt in the man's eyes flare up slightly, "Forever? How long?"

"I dunno?" He shrugs, looking around curiously. The man's house was cleaned out when he finally got there, so this is interesting. "As long as I remember. I got my own stool to stand on and everything. Then I gotta clean all the dishes. Aunt Petunia says I gotta add exactly five caps of bleach, but I always spill more in."

He heads to the books as he hears Snape collapse into a chair. He glances behind him with a grin, and waves excitedly, pulling out a book. Oh, huh, nice. He knows this book. It's one Snape wrote himself, but could never get published until /after// his death, and because Harry demanded it.

The man had too much past to be able to get it on his own. Death Eater, etc.

He carries it over to Severus cheerfully, "I can read! Let me read to you!" Teddy was always super excited to be allowed to read to people.

The look that Severus gives him is a strange, unreadable one. He reaches out and gently takes hold of the book, before looking at Harry.

"Perhaps later," he finally says to Harry, after a long moment of contemplative silence. "First, I need to... make a call to a friend of mine."

A 'friend' can mean several people at this point, mainly either Dumbledore or Lucius Malfoy.

"Who you calling?" He can get away with being 'curious child, excited to be away from abusers,' or something. Well, he /is// abused child, even if he got a /ton// of very expensive therapy to help him out. He takes a step away, "Am... am I going back there?" Since like /hell// is he staying at the Dursley's. That's no home of his, and never will be. He left that place long ago, and even bought it after the war to raze the house to the fucking /ground//.

It was very comforting.

Severus takes a deep breath, "A friend, and if I have my way, no, you will not." Snape moves over, and sets a surprisingly gentle hand on his head, brushing back his hair. He can't even glance away, the eye contact is so fast. But Snape's brush against him only catches his fear and apprehension, pulling away too fast to get more. "Where did you get this bruise?" Snape's hand brushes his cheek, making him flinch a bit.

"I think I got it when Aunt Petunia yanked me out of my cupboard?" Since it was only a red spot when he looked in the mirror. He touches it with a finger, wincing a bit. Wow, she did a number on it. "One of my teeth is loose now."

Severus frowns, before finally standing up from the chair. "We will get that taken care of." He says, before he moves over to the fireplace. He takes down what at first sight looks like an ornate coffee tin. Where Harry recalls most people grab a handful of floo-powder and throw in, Severus in this case uses a measure spoon made of wood. He then tosses the contents into the fireplace, before sharply calling: "Albus Dumbledore!"

The fire flares green for a moment, and the head of Dumbledore appears in the fire. Harry makes a slight show of jumping in surprise, before he carefully begins to creep closer, hoping his expression shows enough awe and curiosity for his age.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asks. "Is there something you need?"

"I need to speak with you in person." Severus said. "I have some unexpected company, and I need you to see the boy in person."

The grandfatherly image of Dumbledore frowns, and for a moment, the head retreats. Severus steps away from the fireplace, gently pulling Harry back with him, as the fire flares up, before the older wizard appears, clad in robes that are a mix of deep blue and violet, with stars and comets decorating them.

Harry tries not to snort. He had forgotten how slightly eccentric Dumbledore was with his dress code.

He clings to the back of Severus's robes, a little worried. Now, he hasn't got a plan /persay//, but he does know Dumbledore can send him back to the hellhouse that is the Dursley's. So he makes sure to cling to Snape extra tight. He absently notes how soft the robes are as he hides his face against Severus's side.

"Now, what is it, my boy? I am a little busy and-" Harry can hear fabric shifting, and a boney hand touches his arm, "Well, hello, little one. Who are you?"

He peeks one eye out, his heart aching at how caring Dumbledore looks. He hides his face again, saying, "Harry."

There's a long pause, and Severus says, with a heavy sigh, "Harry Potter."

He stiffens, since he's supposed to be four, and stranger danger, blah blah blah. He peeks his head out, "I didn't say my /last// name."

Severus scoops him up with absolutely no effort, holding him in his arms, while looking directly at Albus, "He is /skin and bones//, Albus." Snape looks at him, "When did you last eat?"

He shrugs, "Dunno." His stomach growls, and he flinches, "D-dunno." He knows that at this age, Petuna would have cuffed him behind his head if his stomach growled.

The look that Severus gives Dumbledore is very pointed and very, very dark. He looks ready to give Dumbledore a pointed question, but changes his mind and looks to Harry instead, his expression softer. "You told me before, that you help with the cooking." He says carefully, as if he doesn't want to spook Harry. "Do you get to eat any of what you help cook?"

Harry ducks his head, well aware of how Dumbledore is watching them both, and he hides his face in Severus' shoulder, causing the older man to stiffen slightly.

"Sometimes." He finally mumbles, "but not if I have to be in my cupboard."

He can practically feel the glare Severus gives Dumbledore at the word 'cupboard', before the Potions Master speaks again: "And why would you be in the cupboard, Harry?"

"'Cause I'm a freak, and freaks don't get to be with normal people." The flinch that Severus gives is only a slight twitch, and Harry is pretty sure that he must be giving Dumbledore an absolutely murderous look by now.

Albus asks, "Who told you that, Harry?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon." He can feel his stomach clench up just /saying// this. Merlin, he is an /adult//, and he went through /therapy//. But it seems talking about how his only living family thinks he's worth /nothing// right now is painful. He.. he doesn't even have Dudley. He was on good enough terms with Dudley to send Christmas Cards, but not anymore.

He feels sick.

Severus holds him closer, rocking him a bit. "Harry," the man says, "I am going to make everyone breakfast, and then I'm going to talk to Albus while you eat."

He peeks up at the man, "I can help."

Severus looks at the ceiling, eyes closed. He can almost /hear// the man thinking, 'Merlin, give me strength.' After a moment, Severus looks at him with a smile that looks out of place on his face, but is surprisingly comforting, "I know you can, Harry. I will be making it myself. You are a good boy, and can just sit while I cook."

He peeks over at the potions setup, "Are you gonna use that? I don't know how to use that. It looks harder than using the stove." He decides to mention something that a four year old has /no reason// to know, but he honestly did know, "I can make a turkey in the oven."

"No Harry," Severus replies patiently, giving Dumbledore yet another pointed look for the turkey comment. "That is for something else entirely. Do you like eggs and bacon?"

Harry nods happily, and lets Severus set him down gently in the armchair that Severus sat in, before calling Dumbledore, and the older headmaster sits down in another armchair nearby. Severus heads for the nook where he has his kitchen, and Harry notes with faint amusement, that even while wearing what is his more casual clothes, Severus has the 'sweeping bat' thing going on. It must be a thing he does, when he is agitated.

Dumbledore is watching him, his expression closed and saddened, and he looks like he doesn't really know what to do right now. Harry just looks back at him, absently swinging his legs over the edge of the chair.

He says cheerfully, "I like it here."

Albus looks at him more, looking even sadder, "Really, Harry?"

He watches Severus, tilting his head back and forth, "Yeah! He's so /nice// to me! He picked me up! No one picks me up." He frowns a bit, trying to remember if this is true or not before he says it. He finally realizes, yes, it is true, "No one touches me unless it's to pull me out of my cupboard."

If anything, Dumbledore looks more unhappy. He looks like he wants to say something, but stays silent, hurt in his no longer twinkling eyes.

Harry takes this time to watch Severus. The man clearly knows what he's doing. Even if it /is// a simple breakfast. Eggs are super simple, same with the bacon. So he says cheerfully, "I never get bacon at home! Sometimes toast with egg." Since bacon is for the whale and child they're trying to drive into an early grave.

Severus responds by actually making flipping eggs look aggressive. For a moment, Harry recalls blowing up Aunt Marge, and finds himself impressed with how well Severus keeps his temper. The man uses his aggression on his cooking, cutting up the bacon and some pieces of toast. Once the eggs and bacon are finished, the bacon is put on a paper towel to dry the fat off for a moment, while the eggs are put on a plate. The toast is warmed on the pan, soaking up the remaining grease for the flavor.

"Aunt Petunia makes me do that too!" Harry chirps, and he swears he can hear Severus' teeth crack from being ground angrily.

Dumbledore has very wisely remained quiet all this time, letting Severus work out his aggressions in his own way. Harry has a feeling though, that the Headmaster is in for a severe earful later, perhaps when they find something to distract Harry with, so he won't 'listen in' on the grownups talking.

The phrase 'grownups talking' sounds so weird in his head.

But he kinda wants to comment how mummy and daddy are fighting. Since, /wow//, Severus is acting like an angry housewife about the food. It's pretty great, and he loves it. But it also makes him think of Severus and Albus as his parents, and now he needs brainbleach. Wow.

He gasps when a plate is handed to him, "I get /this much//?"

Severus gently moves him to the coffee table to eat, "Yes, Harry, you do. And if you're still hungry afterwards, I'll make more, just for you." The man gently pets his hair, avoiding the scar with care. A second plate is shoved into Albus's hands, "Let's eat."

Harry stares at Severus, "I can do chores after, so I'm," he pauses, lookng up, like he's quoting someone, "not a bur-den to so-ci-e-ty like I always am."

Severus's fork bends in his hand, and he says, amazingly calm, "You are /not// a burden, Harry. Don't think you are."

"Uncle Vernon says I am," he says cheerfully, not touching his food.

Albus must notice, since he asks, "My boy, why aren't you eating?"

"Freaks aren't allowed to eat anythng before their betters have taken a bite first."

Severus takes a deep, deep breath, and Harry is pretty sure he is resisting the urge to fire one of the forbidden curses at Albus. Finally, the Potions Master looks at Harry and in a very calm, but firm voice, tells him: "You are not a 'freak', Harry. You are a growing little boy, who has the right to eat as much as he likes. Go ahead, alright?"

Harry looks hesitant, but finally 'allows' himself to start eating. The adults eat their own food in silence, though Severus is still giving the Headmaster some very deadly looks, while Albus slowly and carefully eats his own food. Harry can't help but notice, that Albus' own plate has what looks like the smallest egg and a piece of bacon that didn't turn out as well as the rest.

The phrase 'in the doghouse' comes to mind and fits rather well, Harry thinks.

But, he knows a four year old would point this out. He asks, "Is he bad like me?"

Severus stiffens, but Albus saves the man handily. "No, no, child. Absolutley not. Severus just knew I already ate. Since it is rude to eat without offering food, I just took a small portion. In fact," Albus smiles at him, "would you like my slice of bacon? I simply can not eat that much."

He looks at Severus, as if he's asking permission, and the man smiles at him, touching his shoulder. "If you want it, go ahead, Harry. If not, that's fine, too."

He looks at the rasher, then back at his own plate. He hunches a bit, "You said I could ask for some just for me?"

Severus shoots a smug sort of look at Albus, and looks back at him with a smile, "Yes, if you want, I'll go make more. Just for you."

He squirms, biting his bacon. He chews and swallows it before saying, "If I finish this, I'll ask." He still has two eggs and four more slices of bacon. He didn't even eat this much as an /adult//.

Severus just nods, and the entire atmosphere seems to lighten just a little. Harry takes his time with eating, and while it is good, it is almost too much for his younger body, that isn't used to eating this much. He almost hates having to give up before he's done with the second egg, but he's just too full.

He gives Severus a guilty look at that, before he says: "I'm sorry I couldn't finish. I know it means I'm ungrateful." Since he recalls some of Petunia's more thunderous speeches about 'ungrateful children'.

Severus draws in a deep breath, before he reaches over and gently brushes his fingers through Harry's hair. "It's quite alright, Harry. You don't have to finish it right now." He says. "You can let it wait a little, before finishing up."

He blinks, "I'm allowed to wait? I can go work in the garden now. Aunt Petunia would-"

Severus touches his head gently, carding his hair with more tenderness than he ever thought the man could possess. But today is full of surprises, that much is for damned sure. "It's fine, Harry. How about you play, instead? I need to talk to Albus, and you can play with some toys."

He looks at Severus blankly, wondering why the hell he'd play with toys, or if he even can. Childlike wonder is something he doesn't remember ever having. "Freaks don't get toys."

Severus stands up with care, "Well, Harry, then it's good you're a normal human boy. In fact," he shoots a warning look at Albus for some damned reason, then returns his focus to Harry, "you're /special//."

Harry looks at the man, and then nods, "Yes, Dudley said. In the head."

Wow, Severus sure looks like he wants to murder Albus. It's amazing. This day is pretty nice. Even if he ends up back in the cupboard, he hopes they let him keep his memory of Severus wanting to kill Albus. It's just a great thing to see. Especially at how swiftly Severus gets it under control to look at him again. "No, Harry. You're magic. Like us."

Harry side-eyes Albus, "Magic isn't real."

For the first time in a while, Albus manages to give Harry a small smile. "Then how did I come out of the fireplace, Harry?" He asks kindly.

Harry frowns in thought at that, knowing that as a four year old, it's kind of a difficult question to answer.

"Dumbledore and I are both wizards, Harry." Severus says calmly. "And so are you." As if to demonstrate, he brings out his wand and waves it silently over his own and Albus' plate. Any leftover food is vanished, and the empty plates lift up into the air, and fly over to the sink where they set down gently.

Harry hopes he looks properly awed.

He says, "Must be easy to clean things!" He looks over at the sink, "I can clean the dishes, so I'm not-"

"Harry," Severus takes his hands, holding them gently, "you do /not// need to clean the dishes. I would much rather you play with toys and have fun. Think about what toy you want."

Shit.

He forces his mind to a stuffed teddy bear, since... Teddy! He got his godson so many of those until he got cranky about the pun. Dad jokes when you aren't even a dad. Perfect.

But it's the one he got that had articulated arms and legs, but also was /super soft and cuddly, while also the perfect weight in the arms. Just right for holding and carrying around.

Severus smiles at him, waving his wand and murmuring something under his breath. Something he knows is a variation of conjuring up a toy, while doing visualization to make it something specific. And Harry /is// impressed at the sight of the teddy bear. It's /perfect//.

He knows he couldn't have done that without the elder wand. Man is impressive as hell.

And when he holds it in his arms, he can feel the magic of it settling into permenance. It won't just disappear like most things.

He hugs it in his arms, holding it tight. It makes him think of Teddy and family and love and...

It's a sort of connection he never thought about, but is so perfect and warm.

He rubs his eyes, unable to stop his tears, since he /left his family//, and here is a bit he has now, and it won't go away. "Th-thank you."

Severus is kneeling down next to him, gently brushing his fingers through Harry's hair, and by now it's a strangely comforting gesture, and the older man waits patiently until Harry has calmed down.

"It's alright, Harry." He says gently, "you just wait here for a moment, alright? I need to go talk with Albus. But we'll be right nearby if you need us."

Harry just nods, hugging the teddybear close. A part of him doesn't like how /tired// he feels all of a sudden, but at the same time, he knows he can't help it. He's had a stressful day, and the accidental magic for the apparition along with the food and now crying, has suddenly just left him completely drained.

He climbs into the big armchair, holding the teddy close, rocking a little with it in his arms, eyes closed. He keeps an ear out ot hear Severus and Albus, but only gets a buzzing. Since he knows that magic, he stops trying. He knows they're talking about him, but he's just .... so... tired.

He buries his face in the bear, holding it against him. It's as large as his torso, and is amazingly comfortable to just hold. He knows when he's feeling better, he'll ignore it, mostly, but right now?

He needs it.

He isn't sure how long he holds the bear, but eventually, Severus kneels in front of him, looking strained, "Harry?"

He stares at the man, feeling confused, "Yes, sir?"

Severus closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. "We may be able to let you stay here."

He straightens up, pretty shocked at that. Because the Albus he knows, would /never// let him leave the Dursley's. The man said he knew Harry wouldn't have a happy childhood, and still left him to fucking rot in a cupboard. Left him in a horrible room all summer, and only pulled him out at his own convenience.

Shit, he should have gone to Snape that first year, if it meant he could get away from Petunia and Vernon.

He asks softly, not really able to believe it. "I... I don't have to go back to my cupboard?" He doesn't want to go back. Albus will only paper over the damage, and he'll be stuck there again, wanting to die.

"Never again." Severus says, his voice calm and firm. "Both Dumbledore and I are going to make certain of that."

Dumbledore has his wand out, but has it lowered, probably waiting for Severus to draw out his for whatever they had planned.

Severus looks over at Albus, then back at him, "In order to... have you no longer live with them, you need to legally be with someone else. You need a magical guardian."

He looks up at Severus, pretty sure he knows where this is going, "So, you're gonna adopt me?"

"If only it were so easy," the man mutters, frowning. He scowls at Albus, saying in a normal voice, "No. If I were to adopt you, then you would be forced to change your last name, and that would lock you out of your proper inheritance and place in the wizarding world."

"What do you mean?" Even if he kind of does know. If he's not a Potter, then he can't get the Potter seats on the Wizengott. Which he /really// should have taken up in the last life. It could have maybe kept this shit from happening to him.

Severus shakes his head, "It's something that will be explained to you when you are eleven, don't worry."

He nods, "So what is it I need to do?"

The man closes his eyes, and he says, clearly reluctant, "You need to get betrothed to someone of legal age."

"... What?"

"Betrothed." Severus repeats, "it's a kind of arrangement. And since I am of legal age, Dumbledore and I agreed that it would be best if you were betrothed to me."

Harry can only stare at him owlishly. He honestly can't decide if he should just feel weirded out, or something else entirely. Instead, he opts to ask what any sensible four year old might.

"Do I have to get married?" He almost whines.

"You don't," Severus says. "It will only last until you are of legal age. While we are betrothed, I can protect you, and you can stay with me."

Well, it could be worse, Harry thought. He knows that if he were eleven and had to choose between the Dursleys and Snape, it would be hard to decide which is worse. But this? It's fine. He doesn't have to get married, so it isn't a terrible thing by any means.

He nods, "Okay." He looks around, "I'll get to live here?" Since, why not confirm it?

"Yes."

He nods, "I like it here. We can get betrothed."

Severus holds out his hand, letting Harry take it, and leads him to Albus. "Now, this isn't something just anyone can do. It is because Albus has so many important titles, so he can just file the parchmentwork and it will be very safe."

Harry doesn't really care about that. Other than, in a 'I'm never returning to the Dursley's' sort of way. So he just nods, accepting it.

Albus says, "I'm going to cast a spell over your hands, and there will be several colored sparks before several sheafs of parchment come out of my wand. Severus and you will need so sign it, and then I will need to go do several things. I'll be back as soon as possible, then you and Severus can go shopping for clothing and things for your new room."

He nods easily.

Severus gently takes Harry's hand, and Albus moves his wand over them in a complicated pattern. There are sparks, as Albus warned, starting with green and yellow, then changing to orange, red, and finishing with lilac and deep blue. When the colors change, a couple of parchments sprout out from the wand, which Albus catches easily.

When one final, extra long parchment is spewed out, the sparks die out, and the spell is finished. Severus finds quill and ink they can use, and he shows Harry where to sign on the documents.

His handwriting is as bad as ever, but he's pretty sure that helps them believe he's four. Albus nods, gathering up the parchment, "I'll be back in less than an hour, Severus."

Severus nods, and watches Albus leave through the floo before turning to Harry. The man's eyes drag along him, and Harry can see how sadness fills them. Finally, Severus says, "Let's choose your room, shall we?"

He follows along, and is allowed to look over the rooms upstairs. The one he chose when he lived here is actually Severus's bedroom now, so he chooses the next largest one. Which already has a bed. He smiles at Severus, saying, "And I get a bed?"

He hates how much that question hurts Severus, but he has to ask it. He was never allowed a bed before moving to the smallest bedroom. The cupboard just didn't have room. Severus picks him up, setting him on the bed, "Yes, you do. If you want a bigger bed, I'll get you one, too."

This is a perfectly fine bed. It will fit an adult, so a child as small as Harry is now is fine. He shakes his head, "I like it." He rubs his eyes, "What do we do now?"

"Are you tired?"

He nods, "A little." Since it's been a pretty crazy day, and he's used up a fair amount of his magic already. The clock says it isn't even noon yet, though.

"How about you take a nap? I can wake you up when it's time to go shopping."

He nods, climbing under the blankets of the bed, and accepting the teddybear from Severus. "Okay."

Severus takes his time to get Harry tucked in. It's a bit weird, but not uncomfortable, and Harry is soon curled up with the bear, feeling warm and and comfortable.

A soft pop from the next room announced the reappearance of Dumbledore, and Severus took a moment to murmur to Harry to sleep well, before he got up and walked out, closing the door so it was only open a crack.

Harry can hear them speaking, and he tries for a moment to listen to what they're saying. But he is incredibly tired, and the adrenaline crash, the food in his belly and the comfortable, warm bed is finally enough to make him drop off to sleep.

--

Harry peeks out from under his hat, holding onto Severus's hand as they walk through Diagon Alley. It's pretty interesting, really. Severus knows what he's doing, and he's allowed to choose pretty much anything he might want. Granted, that's because he's an abused child with an adult's mind, and he doesn't see a reason to ask for much at all. He's always been practical.

But Severus gently pushes him into the toyshop, saying, "Go ahead and choose what you want, Harry."

He's never been in this store before, mostly since it always had the windows filled with toys he'd thought too young for himself at eleven, and didn't want to be made fun of when he was older.

Now? He's supposed to be /four//, so he goes exploring.

He finds a large collection of sticks that are clearly supposed to be toy wands, so he reaches out, and touches one. The cheaper ones are just painted sticks, but this more expensive one has a tiny thrum of magic in it.

He waves it, and it gives out sparks.

Eh.

He puts it back, only for Severus to pick it back up, "Would you like one, Harry? We can get this and another thing, if you want."

He can see how hopeful the man looks, so he nods, "Okay." He's not sure why Severus is pleased about him wanting a fake wand, but if it makes the man happy he doesn't see any reason to refuse.

They look around for another while, and then come across an aisle filled with plush toys, that are enchanted to seem alive. Harry is impressed, never recalling seeing anything like this before. But again, perhaps it's because it's one of those things you don't want to admit having when you're older.

Though he won't lie, the plush that looks very much like a snowy owl makes his heart ache. He had gotten another owl since Hedwig, but he had never really bonded with it in the same way.

Severus notices his stare. "Would you like to have a closer look, Harry?" He asks. Harry almost says no, but at the same time, it just looks so lovely. But it will be a few more years, he figures, before the real Hedwig will even come to be. So he finally just nods, and Severus takes the plush down from the shelf.

The plush owl is even made so it can sit perched on ones arm, if you want that. It's almost too much for Harry.

He stares as it sits on his shoulder, and Severus asks, "Do you want it?"

He holds her to his chest, nodding. He can't really speak, too choked up to be able, but Severus understands. Severus asks him if he wants anything else, and he has to shake his head, "I got all I want," he manages.

"Very well." The man takes his hand, and they buy the toys. When they walk out, Severus sets his plush on Harry's shoulder, and says, "Now, we can get ice cream, if you want?"

He isn't actually all that hungry, but the idea of ice cream is much too appealing to turn down, so he nods. "Yeah."

Severus smiles, leading him to the shop.

--

Harry is curled up on the couch, reading, when he hears the floo light up. He blinks, looking at the fireplace as Lucius calls out, "Severus? Are you there?"

Severus has been in the kitchen making lunch, and comes sweeping out, his expression cool and collected. Harry knows by now, that it is pretty much his default expression when it comes to sudden, or at times unwanted company.

"Lucius," he says calmly. "What brings you here?"

"A little bird told me, that congratulations were in order." Lucius replies with a slight smile. "I hear that you have become betrothed."

Severus rolls his eyes, and Harry resists the urge to copy the motion. Of course Lucius Malfoy would find out somehow, at some point. Now the question is how Severus is going to explain it.

Severus crosses his arms, "It is for safety. He needs to be kept safe from the home he was in."

Lucius looks very much like how Draco did when he wanted to snort, but only managing to stop himself because that isn't a thing Malfoys /do//. It was hilarious when Draco did it, it's even more hilarious now. Harry hides his face behind his book, so the man can't tell he's smiling. Lucius says, "If you say so, Severus. But, I was thinking, we can have a... playdate arranged. Right now, perhaps?"

Severus looks exasperated, "You want to send Draco over, then?"

"Well, your godson would be happy to-"

"Just admit you and Cissy want to go on a date, and the babysitter bailed, Lucius."

Lucius purses his lips, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Well unless you have a previous engagement.."

Severus glowers at him for his choice of words, then looks to Harry. "What do you say, Harry? Would you mind if we had a visitor?"

Four year old Draco is going to be either hilarious or tedious as all hell. He may as well find out sooner than later, so he says, "It's okay. He won't push me, will he?"

Severus looks at Lucius, "Will he?"

"I can promise you, he will not hurt you in any way." Lucius seems confused as to why that is even a question, but realizes that his date depends on making Harry feel safe.

Severus nods, "Then bring him over."

Lucius's head disappears from the fireplace, and is replaced by the man walking through, holding Draco in his arms. The little boy is set on the ground, and is holding a toy dragon to his chest. It's almost stupidly adorable.

Draco does not look fond of the idea of being dropped off with his godfather however. He looks worriedly at his father, as Lucius tells him to behave for Severus and to be a good playmate for Harry.

Harry... doesn't really know what to do. At this age, his aunt Petunia practically had him locked in the house, when she didn't have him weeding in the garden, probably for fear of him making accidental magic in front of people.

He gets an idea however, when he notices that the dragon toy is enchanted to be alive, moving and making little noises, with harmless smoke coming from its nostrils.

"You got a dragon? I got an owl!"

Draco holds his toy a little closer, "I like dragons."

He looks over at Severus from the corner of his eye, and the man just gives him an amused look. No help at all. So he returns his focus to the boy, saying, "I like reading." Since he does, actually. He's expected to sit still and be out of the way for hours on end, since Severus isn't much good with children. But reading is so much easier than holding still and doing nothing in a cupboard, so he doesn't mind. He can't really... play. That involves childlike wonder. A thing he is distinctly lacking.

Draco moves to sit next to him, "You can read that? It's got big words."

It's a book on the theory behind the patronus charm. From what he can tell, most of this is very flawed, and he doubts the man who wrote this ever actually cast the spell. Or, if he did, the man went through far more difficulty than Harry had.

And Harry learned in third year, under the influence of actual dementors.

"Mm." He agrees, in response to Draco's question. "It's okay. It tells about magic? But I don't understand all of it."

"Why don't you show Draco your owl, Harry?" Severus suggests, "and perhaps I can find something for you both to read." Reading must be done a lot when Draco visits, because Draco doesn't really object. He quietly plods after Harry to his room, and they manage to at least entertain themselves a little, by watching the owl and dragon chirp, hiss and growl at one another. Being just toys, they can't really hurt each other either, not even when the dragon toy attempts to breathe fire (which Harry figures out is an illusion charm of some kind. At least not all wizards are reckless enough to give their child a toy that actually breathes fire.)

He watches as Draco says, "Do you have a chess set?"

He glances over to where his brand new set is, carefully displayed. It's something to do, even if he's been playing against himself out of boredom. "Do you want to play?" Since he does have both sides. Severus saying that a set is supposed to grow with the player, so that's why Harry has his own sets.

Something about using a older person's set is cheating.

He's not sure how, since Ron had his grandfather's, and his friend never listened to the set's advice, just doing it all himself. Maybe some other people cheat by just listening to experienced pieces, but Ron was always very proud of himself for being good at the game on his own merits.

Draco hurries over to the board, and they get down to playing. He hopes Draco is at least competant at playing, since beating a four year old at chess is not something worth bragging about. Really, it's going to be like shoving the boy into a lake. Meanspirited.

It turns out that Draco is actually rather good at playing. He takes his time with each move and considers some of his moves, even when the chess pieces give their own advice about what to do. Harry wonders idly if Severus sometimes plays with Draco, or if he plays with one of his parents.

They play for a good while, only mildly interrupted when Severus checks in on them, bringing along a tray with lunch. When certain that they are not getting into trouble, the Potions Master leaves the two boys be, telling them that he'll be working downstairs and they can call for him if they need anything.

Harry does win the game, but it isn't bad for a four year old. It's mostly that Harry's been losing to Ron for a very long time, and just by paying attention to his friend, he knows far more about chess than most people do. A four year old isn't much against that.

He is impressed the boy captured a few of his pieces, though. Harry doesn't see a point in dumbing himself down, since Severus hasn't bothered to do more than 'teach' him the rules.

He's pretty sure Severus will be surprised when they finally play a game together.

Draco stands up, looking at their empty plates, "You think Uncle Sev will let us make potions?"

Harry has a child's potions kit in his room here, but it's very clear that Draco isn't talking about that. He stands up, gathering up the plates, "We can ask." Severus lets Harry help prep things, saying that he is very good at chopping and slicing and grinding. He knows Severus thinks it's because of him cooking, but that's really secondary to how he learned to deal with the man's perfectionism in class.

Severus is working on what is probably one of his own recipes, when Draco and Harry come downstairs. He already has the ingredients ready for it, and is measuring out some powder, taking care to finish what he is doing, before he looks up at the boys.

"You boys need anything?" He asks.

"Not right now." Draco says, leaning idly on the stair railing. "Can we help with what you're making, Uncle Sev?"

Severus looks over at them, and then at the items. "I need you to grind this, Draco." A thick claw is placed in a mortar, and handed to Draco. "And this needs to be chopped into one in cubes, Harry." A chunk of meat is placed on a cutting board, and Harry moves to it.

He looks at the knives, "What knife?"

Severus points at a golden blade, "That one." Harry nods, starting to cut the meat evenly. He knows very well that there's an unbreakable charm on the gold, along with an eversharp curse. It's the only reason it actually cuts, rather than bending and dulling with use.

Draco takes grinding very seriously, or at least it looks like it with the way he's working on the claw with the pestle. With the way he and Harry are both concentrating, it takes time to get the materials ready, but it fits just fine with whatever Severus is concocting.

While the boys are working, he measures other ingredients, and checks on the boys. When Harry is finished with the meat, he is given some roots to cut, but with a silver knife instead.

When they're finished, Severus covers the cauldron with a lid, and gently shoos them away from the lab. "Okay, let's get you books to read. Is there anything you want to read about?"

"Dragons!" Draco says eagerly.

Harry just shrugs, since he already has free rein of the library, so doesn't actually care that much. At Severus's concerned look, he says, "... invisibility cloaks?" Since he has it in his room right now, but only because it is his legacy. Dumbledore saying something about how his dad would want him to have it. While he /also// knows that Dumbledore gave up on trying to figure the thing out - how it was made - just a little before Harry showed up at Spinner's End.

Harry is sure that's why he showed up at four, not eleven.

Now he just needs to figure out how to find the other two Hallows. He'll figure something out with the wand later, but the stone... now that's more difficult. Especially considering the specific detail from Death about not breaking the damn thing.

The book that Severus has on dragons is at least interesting. It has moving illustrations, describing the dragons and telling about stories connected to them. Some of them sound like the classic fairytales, but it's a wizard or witch instead of a knight that defeats (or in some cases, enchants) the dragon. The reward is also different, not coming in the form of a princess and half the kingdom, but usually a title, or just the wizard or witch taking something from the dragon, or its hoard, and then being on their way.

Draco seems to know almost every story inside out, which Harry can't help but find amusing, especially when Draco has his toy dragon curled around his shoulders.

It's so damned cute, he wishes he had a camera. Possibly for blackmail. But mostly, because it is the cutest damned thing.

He reads his own book, which has no illustrations, but is kind of interesting as it is. It talks about how to properly make one with just fabric and a ton of spells. The thing needs to have runes sewn into it, and only last a week at the very most. There's also the demiguise hair ones, but good luck with those, since they're incredibly expensive unless you raise your own. And the things aren't exactly domesticated.

Harry, however, is pretty damned sure his cloak is made of lethifold skin, since those things are invisible, even in death. He just can't imagine being able to skin one to make it. But, he wouldn't be surprised that death could.

He knows the stone /is// a petrified dementor's heart. He used his powers to kill one of the things once, and all that was left was a shroud and a chunk of meat the size of a seeded grape. Which, after multiple tests, proved to be a heart. He kept it purely to brag, and it eventually started drying out.

He could maybe make his own ressurection stone, if he knew runes.

On the other hand, he still remembers Death's scowl about the Hallows in general, and his threat about picking Harry up and sending him back in an even worse condition. So for now, he puts that idea on the backburner.

Maybe permanently. He'll have to wait and see.

Speaking of Death, it's not until now that he realises how Draco has not asked him about his hair. Perhaps it's because he is so light haired himself, so it wouldn't occur to him?

He shrugs, and looks at Draco's book, asking, "Which is your favorite?" Since why not?

Drago smiles at him, a little shyly, "I like the Hebridean Black. Father took me to the MacFusty's reserve to see them. They're so /big//."

Harry's been there once, and he can understand why Draco was impressed. Largest dragon native to Britain, so likely part of that love is pride about being in a place that raises the dragons. "They're cool," he says easily.

Draco grins so wide his eyes squint, "Yeah!"

He looks at the stories, and the one on the welsh green explains how one of the great London fires was started by one, not a cow like how the muggles say. He... didn't know that. Huh. Nice.

Draco scoots closer to him, holding the book open wider, "Want me to read to you? I can read really goo- well. I can read really well."

He smiles, "If you want to, yes. I'd like to hear you read." Let the real four year old show off his skills.

Draco beams and pages through the book until he finds what is probably one of his favourite stories. It tells, strangely fittingly, about a wizard who battles with a Hungarian Horntail. The wizard doesn't defeat the dragon in this story, instead he is forced to retreat, using animagus magic to turn into a raven and fly away.

Harry idly wonders if Draco likes this story, because the dragon technically wins, instead of being defeated or tricked in some way. While the other stories are fascinating, they do get a bit repetitive.

When the boy finishes reading, Draco says cheerfully, "I'm gonna be an animagus someday."

Harry can see it happening. It makes him wonder if Harry can still do his form. He says, "I'm sure you will be, Draco." And then focuses on trying to turn into an otter.

...

Nothing.

Damn.

Well, maybe when he has more control of his magic. He has so little of it now, so he'll start doing exercizes to get it up to what it /should// be. A huge force that can fill a room. He can do it. He'll just start carrying around his toy wand to excuse his attempts.

He wonders idly how long it might take. Patience is the key, he knows this, but he can't help but feel incredibly frustrated about everything when it comes to his powers. He has gotten so used to being as strong as he was, and not just because of the Elder Wand, that it feels like he's had a limb cut off.

It's going to be difficult, though. He is not looking forward to going back through Hogwarts itself, because as amazing as the school was in some ways, it is incredibly flawed in others. Like history for example, or bloody divinition.

Speaking of divinition, he knows he'll also need to prepare himself in some way for that first year. If things are going to start over the way he thinks they are, he's going to have to find a way to handle Quirrell, preferrably before he finds out how to get past Fluffy, because fuck having to deal with that monster dog, or the rest of the challenges for that matter.

But right now, he's with Draco. The boy is still chattering on excitedly about dragons next to him, and Harry nods when needed.

At least Draco is a behaving kid.

--

Harry holds onto Edward, his teddybear named after his possible godson, and walks into the kitchen. Setting his owl, Archimedes, on the back of a chair, he pats him on the head. Nodding, he sets Edward in the seat. Tapping them both with his fake wand, he uses his limited wandless magic to make sure they won't fall off.

He crosses his arms, looking over the table with a stern expression, then gives one firm nod. He makes his best Snape walk, his child robes flapping a bit with his magic, and heads straight ot the stove.

Time to try making food with magic.

Nothing too complicated, his magic doesn't feel strong enough for that yet, but getting water in a pot to boil, while some potatoes are being peeled is at least a good start.

Severus nearly has a heart attack though, when he comes downstairs from getting a book from his own room, and finds Harry in the middle of making stew with wandless magic.

"Harry!" The sudden exclamation startles Harry, and he is SO glad that all he's doing is stirring in the pot right now, and not levitating anything.

He stares over at Severus, "... yes?"

Severus walks over cautiously, eyeing the plates and bowls on the table dubiously, "What did I say about cooking alone?"

"... not to?" He tilts his head, "But I'm not alone."

Harry wants to giggle as he watches his guardian take a soothing inhale, and lets it out slow. Finally, Severus says, "You weren't, Harry. I wasn't here with you."

He points at his toys, "Edward and Archimedes are here."

Severus sighs, "And they are not an adult, Harry." Severus moves over to the stew, looking it over, and stirring it with his hand, "Now, would you like to tell me why you're using accidental magic to  make dinner?"

Harry holds out his wand, "It isn't /accidental//." He moves his wand in the levitation charm, and moves Edward to the top of the table with his magic. "See? I can do it on purpose."

Severus frowns, clearly confused, but not willing to distrust his own eyes on this issue. The man gently takes the toy wand from him, and flicks it so it shoots sparks like it's supposed to. "Harry?"

"Yes, Severus?" He uses Severus's name, since he's not going to call him professor or dad or whatever. It doesn't matter that Severus clearly thinks of him as his own child already. Harry is an /adult//.

Severus takes one of his hands, asking gently, "Could you make Archimedes move from the chair to the table?" When he reaches for the wand, Severus pulls it away, saying, "Without this, Harry. I just want to see if you can."

Harry strongly resists the temptation to roll his eyes, or to give Severus a deadpan look. The Potions Master can't know of course, that Harry has already practiced levitating Archimedes, with or without a wand. With wand is easier, though.

He has overtaxed his magic a bit though, which Harry learns, when he does succeed in lifting Archimedes up, and at least gets him halfway to the table, before his magic shorts out so Archimedes drops to the floor.

A very small part of him is strongly tempted to actually throw a tantrum like...well, like a four year old. Fucking Death and its price for timetravel, it's just not fair that he has to build everything back up from the start!

Severus catches Harry's frustrated look and probably sees it as something else. He gently ruffles Harry's hair, before he goes over to pick Archimedes up, and puts the toy back on the back of the chair.

"It's alright, Harry." He says in a soothing tone. "Not everyone succeeds the first time they're directly asked."

An unpleasant flashback to Neville telling about how his uncle tried to force accidental magic from him, keeps Harry from making a snappy comment. Instead, he glares into the floor. He is sulking and he knows it, but it's just so /frustrating.//

Severus smiles at him, ruffling his hair again, "How about we finish making this stew? I'm sure it's great."

He wants to curse and scream, but he knows he can't. So he heads to get the stool to climb on. He can make food with Severus. Even if it won't be with him practicing his magic.

--

Harry tugs lightly on his fancy dress robes, one arm around the back of Severus's neck as they step out of the floo. He makes a face, and his guardian chuckles at him, "You already said they itch, which is a lie. We're here, and you're not changing into casual robes."

He sticks out his tongue for a moment before says, "They're all stiff and gross." They really are. It's about twenty times worse than the ones as an adult. The magic pressed into the fabric to resist stains, stay the right temprature, and all sorts of things, they just saturate the smaller amount of fabric. While as an adult, it spreads along more, and doesn't feel as bad.

Severus sets him on the ground, banishing the soot from their clothing, "We are meeting Madam Longbottom, Harry. She has a grandson your age, and you can play with him."

He knows this, but most four year olds need the reminding. He likes the idea of meeting Neville, but he is /not// happy how Augusta insists on absolute formality.

It's bullshit, is what it is. This is a playdate, and he needs to wear something he'd have to use to go to a formal ministry hearing.

Augusta Longbottom is as much of an iron lady as she usually is, as she greets Severus and Harry. Neville is standing by her side, looking very small and quiet. It is so different to see him like this, and Harry feels his heart ache, when he remembers how nervous Neville was his first year alone.

There are other adult guests (which Harry figures are only there, because 'The Boy Who Lives' is visiting, ugh.) And among them, Harry can see a man, who looks very much as the person that Neville described to Harry once as his uncle.

This visit is going to suuuuck.

He stands next to Severus, his little hand tangled in his guardian's robes, glaring at all the adults. He scowls even deeper as they're lead to a sitting room, and he has to sit on the couch, drinking tea that isn't actually that good. It's the silver teapot they're using. He can taste it in the tea. He's sensitive to it, just because Teddy was allergic, and he had to test everything first.

He can't even handle one cup, setting it on the table while Augusta talks about raising children. Neville is shaking next to her, holding his empty cup with shaking fingers. After far too long, Harry's patience snaps, and he tugs on Severus's robes.

His guardian looks down at him, one eyebrow raised in question, so Harry says, his voice stilted with irritation, "May I play with Neville while you talk?"

Augusta's lips press together, no doubt displeased about Harry's tone, while Severus fights a smile. "Go ahead," he tells Harry. "Perhaps Neville can show you some of his own toys."

This seems acceptable to the Longbottom Matron, and she nods to Neville, who carefully puts his cup down. "Show Mr. Potter your room, Neville." She says.

"We'll be right here if you need anything." Severus adds, and Harry can't help but feel that they might need it. Especially with the dreaded uncle present.

Neville leads the way upstairs, and is quiet and meek all the way. As soon as they get to his room though, Harry knows just what to do, in order to get him to open up.

There is a plant standing in Neville's window, one that probably has magical qualities as well. Harry steers right for it, and asks Neville what it is.

Neville flushes, going to the plant, and picking it up, "It's a snakeweed."

He isn't sure what the hell that is. "What does it do?"

The other boy clambers into a chair, and Harry sits next to him instantly, letting the boy talk. "If it grows big enough, I can clip off bits of it, and dry the leaves. Once we do that, it can be made into a tea that makes tummyaches stop."

Oh, nice.

Harry grins, "I bet it helps a lot, Neville. It looks really healthy. You're good at taking care of things."

Neville flushes a bit, biting his lower lip like the adorable child he is, and mumbles, "I just... I like it."

Harry nods, "You're allowed to-"

Suddently their chair takes a tumble to the side, while someone behind them screams out a wordless roar. Harry and Neville fall out of the chair, the snakeweed's pot shatters on the floor, and Harry slams his head on it, too.

Harry's magic wraps around him for a split second before he realizes that /some asshole did this to them//. When that happens, Harry's magic spreads out, clinging to everything. It finds his assultant, and throws the man harshly against a wall with a sickening sort of crunch.

Jumping to his feet, Harry stalks to the man, who he now realizes is Neville's Uncle Algie, and he /screams//, long, wordless, angry. He then starts to curse the man, using insults he learned from Severus and his own imagination.

He's not sure how long he's doing it when he's suddenly scooped up in familiar arms, his magic calming instantly in Severus's own magic. He clings to his guardian, knowing the man will keep him safe. Once he calms down, he can hear Severus saying, "Now, Madam Longbottom, do you want to explain to my why your family is intent on hurting my charge? You are lucky Harry took care of him first, or there would be significantly more damage than a broken leg done to your brother."

Augusta is as cool and calm as ever, explaining how Algie has been attempting to help Neville with getting his magic to start working. The way she talks about Neville, as if he is just an old car that won't start, and she is the owner who has invested a lot of time and money in it, is making Harry feel furious. He wants nothing more than to shake the old bat, and shout at her how magic /doesn't work like that!//

Instead, he goes for a different option.

"Don't put him in a cupboard!" He pipes up at sudden. Severus /freezes// and the other adults look at him confused. "Don't put Neville in a cupboard!" Harry exclaims again, and he is feeling so angry and frustrated on the other boy's behalf at this point, that he actually feels tears well up. "Neville hasn't done anything wrong! Don't put him in a cupboard!"

Severus pulls him closer, brushing his fingers through Harry's hair in what has become a soothing gesture. "It's okay Harry, it's okay." He murmurs. "No one is getting put in a cupboard."

He clings to Severus, his magic working up again, fluttering around them, "They're terrible! They'll put in in the cupboard because he doesn't have magic! They're like magical Dursleys!"

Severus rocks him a bit, trying to calm him down, "I promise, Harry, there will be no-"

"I don't want Neville to stay here!" He doubts this will work, but hey, why not? "If they're like them, then Neville should be with me and you!"

Severus sighs, about to say something when Augusta snaps, "Neville is the Longbottom heir, and he will not be-"

Harry honestly gives no shit what Augusta is going to say, so he lets his magic slap her mouth, silencing her. "You're the /worst//." He's getting tired, but he has one more thing he /really// wants to do. So he uses his magic to push Neville close to them, and the boy instantly latches onto Severus's leg, looking highly worried.

The sudden hit silences Augusta, and also has her fall to the floor in sheer surprise. Severus, much to Harry's surprise, kneels down and easily picks up Neville.

"I think that it's best we leave now," he tells Augusta. "And if nothing else, Neville can at least stay with us, until things have calmed down a bit."

Harry can tell from the tone alone, that Severus is planning something, so he goes with the flow for now, wrapping his free arm protectively around Neville, as Severus takes them downstairs.

They floo to Spinner's End from there, and Severus has them both settled on the couch. Neville just sits quiet and meek, looking like he doesn't know what to do with himself. So Harry just sits next to him, hugging him close.

Severus gets the boys some hot chocolate, and its warm, sweet flavor helps a bit on the mood. When he is certain that the boys can handle themselves for a bit, Severus goes to the fireplace and makes a Floo call to Dumbledore.

Harry can't really hear anything on this side, so he looks at Neville, finally saying, "I like you."

Neville stares at him, eyes wide, looking really adorable. "Y-you do?"

He nods, sipping his drink. He then says, "Yeah. You're my friend. Maybe one of my best friends."

"Best friend?"

He nods, "Yeah, tied with Draco. You are my best friend with Draco." As Neville digests that thought, he adds, "We should play chess together." Since he remembers Neville was a fair hand at chess at Hogwarts. Why not do that now?

Neville nods, and Harry rushes off, and brings back his chess set. Putting it between them, he starts playing.

--

Harry hums happily as he makes pancakes, Severus watching him carefully while frying bacon. He glances over his shoulder, and smiles. Neville is sitting in a chair, holding Edward in his arms, looking faintly baffled about what all is going on.

He will be going home later today, and while Harry did object to it, Severus explained to him that Dumbledore has had a talk with Augusta, so Algie, or anyone else, should not be a problem anymore.

Harry wishes he could have been a fly on the wall for /that// conversation, because judging from Severus' smug expression, the 'talk' has been very effective.

Neville will reach his own potential, in his own time. Maybe his magic will show up during a playdate, maybe it will wait until his tenth birthday like it did before. Either way, there are other, less harmful ways of finding out whether or not a child is magical or a squib. Neville in Harry's previous future was working on seeing to that.

Floating the plate to Neville, he hops off his stool carefully, grinning up at his guardian, "We have enough bacon, Severus?"

The man nods, carrying his own plate, "Let's eat, shall we?"

Neville blinks as he's given two pancakes, and the boy murmurs a soft, "Thank you."

Severus nods once, "You're welcome, Neville. How many slices of bacon would you-"

They all stop moving at the sound of a knock at the door. Harry hops up, "I'll get it!" Since he has so much energy as a child, may as well go rush to see who is there. He ignores Severus's sigh, and hurries off. He slides to a stop in front of the door, and presses his hand to a small rune, making the door see-through for the inside. He blinks at the sight of Albus there, holding onto an odd bowl. He glances at the foe glass above the door, which only shows shadowy figures, and opens the door.

Albus smiles down at him, "Ah, Harry. Mind moving out of the way, child?"

He hops back twice, not saying an invitation, and Albus steps in. And that proves that Albus isn't a vampire in disguise, while under a sunscreen charm. They need to be invited in. It's part of their magic.

The lack of invitation is another security measure. After all, Harry is rather famous, and there are still some of Voldemort's followers on the loose, even if some of them have bought their freedom. Or are in hiding somewhere.

But Albus just smiles, his eyes giving their friendly twinkle, as he greets Severus and Neville.

"We were just about to have breakfast," Severus explains, "would you like to join us, headmaster?"

"Ah, thank you, I appreciate it." Albus replies pleasantly. "I haven't had anything yet myself, and I was hoping to speak with Mr. Longbottom while I'm here." He smiles kindly at the young boy. "Have you been well here, Neville?"

Neville nods shyly, having taken to hiding a bit by Severus' side the way Harry does sometimes.

"He has been well, and he has also been very well behaved." Severus says gently. "And Harry has also helped with taking care of him."

It probably also helps, that the asshole uncle Algie hasn't been around to be a threat to poor Neville's life, Harry thinks. Oh but he'd love to ask Albus about what he might have said to Augusta and Algie, but they would probably just tell him to either not worry or something.

Being physically four has some very obvious disadvantages, but he's milking the good points for all he's worth.

Harry grabs Neville's hand, pulling the boy back to the table, "Pancakes! Let's eat!"

They all sit down, And Neville stares warrily at Albus, not sure what to say. Harry's mouth is too full of food, so he keeps chewing. Albus breaks the ice, saying "I'm told you are growing plants, Neville. What is your favorite?"

Neville grins, saying softly, "I like dittany."

Severus smiles at Neville, getntly patting his hair, "The healing plant. I saw you playing in the garden. Did you like it in there?"

Neville flushes, hiding his face in Edward's fuzzy bear head, "Yeah. Harry told me the ones I didn't know."

Severus chuckles, "Yes, Harry knows a great deal of things like that. He reads all the books he can get his hands on."

And he's had six years of magical schooling. And he passed all his NEWTS. That's something worth bragging about, but he can't do that right now. So he just says cheerfully, "I like to read a lot. Will we visit Draco? He said he has a /huge// library."

"Perhaps in a few days." Severus says, while pouring a bit more tea for Albus. "He and his parents are a bit busy these days, with some of their get-togethers."

"Ah yes, their Midsummer's Eve Gala," Albus agrees, nodding. "I had almost forgotten about that. Have you received an invitation, Severus?"

"Not yet, but I expect it to come within the next few days." Severus replies, as he pours some tea for himself, and a bit for Harry and Neville.

Well that explains why they got some extra dress robes, when they went to Madam Malkins, Harry thinks. But then it never hurts to be prepared.

Neville says softly, "Gran always goes to that. She said I wasn't a proper enough wizard to go."

Harry reaches over, saying with determination, "I'll take you with /me// if I gotta."

Severus chuckles, "You don't need to worry. Neville will be going with his grandmother. We don't need him with us all the time. I'm sure you miss your room and garden, Neville."

The boy nods slowly, "Yeah. I do. I like working in the garden a lot, but...."

Severus smiles softly, "My garden is more about usefullness in potions, rather than interesting sorts of plants."

Neville returns the smile carefully. Harry can't help but feel happy about that, because with some of the changes he has made, just from living with Severus, he can imagine that some things for Neville at least will be easier, whenever they start up at Hogwarts.

If nothing else, then because Severus has gotten to know Harry and Neville beforehand, and hasn't instantly marked them as 'spoiled copy of my arch nemesis' and 'completely incompetent near-squib.'

The rest of the meal is finished in silence, and when they are all done, Albus takes his time to help Severus with clearing the table. They are just about finished, when the fire roars to life and turns green, and the head of Augusta Longbottom appears.

"Ah, Augusta." Dumbledore says almost jovially, though Harry notices that his otherwise merry twinkling has gotten a sharp edge to it somehow. "We have just finished breakfast. Neville should be ready for you in not too long."

Harry takes Neville's hand, squeezing it gently, "Neville will be taking home some toys." Because, while he loves the bear, Neville has been holding Edward almost nonstop. The boy will be 'sharing' Edward with him. Whenever they visit, the visitor will be taking Edward home.

He never knew he'd get a divorce and have to timeshare a child so early.

But it makes Neville happy, so he just accepts it. Even if he gets the impression that Draco will be doing the same thing once he finds out about this. The boys insist they are Harry's very best friend, and Harry will not choose one over the other.

Even then, he figures it doesn't hurt to create friendships this early. One of the reasons things got so screwed up before and after the war, was what Dumbledore would have referred to as 'lack of house Unity'.

Now that Harry thinks about it, it would make sense if he could prevent a lot of deaths by accomplishing that.

He hugs Neville, and watches as Augusta takes the boy away. Right after, Albus flicks his wand at the fireplace, making it sputter out. "Severus, I have the artefact to set up the wards."

Severus scoops Harry into his arms, and Harry cuddles against the man comfortably, looking at the bowl Albus has curiously. His guardian says, "Will it work?"

Albus sets the bowl on the floor, moving the furniture all out of the way, and dropping chalk on the ground, charming it to start writing runes. "If it doesn't, I will /not// be happy." Albus smiles at him, "Harry? We need your help with this."

He perks up a bit, curious, "What do I need to do?"

"First, we are going to need something from you." Albus says. "A little bit of blood, and a little bit of your hair, perhaps a few nail clippings. When it is put in this bowl, and some specific words are said, there will be some new wards around this house, which will help protect you."

Harry makes a small 'ew' sound at the mention of blood and the nail clippings, frowning at the bowl in Albus' hands, before he looks up at Severus. "Will it hurt?" He asks, and Severus shakes his head.

"Only for a tiny moment," he says soothingly. "I have a sterilised needle, that we will be using."

The needle is of pure silver, with no adornments. The blood goes first (because of course it does), and Harry flinches only a tiny bit when his thumb is pricked. He grimaces, remembering the last time his blood was used for a ritual, but at least this time it is to protect, rather than resurrecting a half-dead asshole wizard. At least, this time, it is only three drops of blood.

Severus gently trims Harry's hair, and it's odd to see the stark white strands land in the bowl. He's just so not used to the color of all his hair, but if this was the price, he'll pay it. It makes him glad that Death only took the minimum, and not more. He doesn't want to ever know what the maximum is, and hopes he never finds out.

Albus sighs, frowning at the bowl, "We'll need more." Severus moves to trim more hair, but Albus shakes his head, "No, nails now."

He lets Severus trim his nails, glad he doesn't bite them, and flinches a bit as the bowl lets out a puff of smoke. But Severus smiles, "Ah, that would be it, right Albus?"

Albus nods, flicking his wand, "And now you, Severus. Blood, hair, nail clippings. More hair and blood than Harry, so you're signified as the protector."

Severus does as told, ten drops of blood, an adult handful of hair - making him unhappy at the sight of his guardian with short hair, since Severus isn't Severus without hair down below his chin - and trimming of every single finger and toe nail.

Harry leans against Severus, tapping the rune for the man so his boots retie automatically for the man. Severus scoops him back up, standing straight, "Now the chanting, Albus. You need to do it, out of the circle."

Albus nods, and starts to chant, it sort of buzzes through Harry's ears, and he can't concentrate on the words. He's not sure how long it is, but when he finally comes back to himself, he's curled up in Severus's arms, a spot of drool on the man's shirt. He makes a face, and puts his hand against it, using his wandless magic to dry and clean it.

Severus snorts, and murmurs to him, "It's okay, Harry. You fell asleep. It's expected when the wards tie them selves to tightly into one so young. How do you feel?"

He pauses, thinking about it. Letting his magic stretch as much as he can. His head snaps up as it touches all the walls, "Good! I can feel all the things with my magic!" /Finally// his magic is back to where it should be.

Severus chuckles, setting him down, "That's the wards, Harry. Once you leave the influence of them, you won't have that. You can't use your magic to float something from one side of the room to the other." Harry scowls, and Severus pats his head, ruffling his hair, "I know you thought you could, but you're not going to be able to. Go ahead and try."

He glares at Severus, and at a chuckling Albus. He spreads his magic, touching everything, and then lifts up a pillow. .... He /lifts// the pillow. He /lifts the pillow//, damn it.

The pillow isn't moving.

He can /feel// that pillow.

He stalks closer to it, and when he's /finally// in his one foot range, it levitates.

Fucking wards tricking him.

He crosses his arms, huffing, "Not fair."

Albus laughs, walking over and patting his shoulder, "What you can do wandless is already incredibly amazing, Harry. Most children your age would damage their core doing that. While every scan I do of you just shows it growing. I'm very proud of you."

Harry still sulks about it, but his ruffled pride is soothed soon enough. Practice. He just needs to practice. And keeping the wards in mind could work as a good way of figuring out how much his magic has grown.

It will take time, but he has at least seven years before his Hogwarts letter to at least work on getting halfway.

Studying for magic, even though he isn't going to school yet. Hermione would be proud.

He knows where Hermione lives, but she's /nowhere near// Spinner's end, and he can't make an excuse to find her. Not withough Severus freaking out, anyway. So he'll just live with it, and see her when she's eleven. It'll be nice to see her when he does.

But he'll be working ahead, if only to keep from getting bored as all hell. Wizards don't have very many games to play. It's not something he really noticed when he was just learning about magic, but it is incredibly obvious now, growing up in a magical household.

Gobstones, chess, and a snap deck. That's about it.

Kind of depressing, really.

Perhaps that could be something to look into later, as something for George and Fred's shop, whenever they it set up. New kinds of board games for children, and adults, to enjoy.

That could be a fun idea.

But for now, there are other things that matter. The Malfoy ball for example, which Severus has gotten an invitation for, in a very pretty green envelope with silver writing, because as always, the Malfoys love to show off how Slytherin they are.

It gets a little ridiculous sometimes, and judging from the snort Severus makes, when he accepts the envelope from the owl they sent him, he thinks so too.

He peers at it climbing into Severus's arms to make the man show him. "What's resvip?" He's never heard of it before.

Severus settles him onto the couch, "R-S-V-P, Harry. It means to send advance notice that you will show up. Répondez s'il vous plaît. It's french for, respond if you please."

"Oh." Any invintations he got to places either expected him to go no matter what, or Ginny or Hermione dealt with. The Dursley's certainly never taught him that, so it's nice Severus cares about him enough to tell him these things.

Albus ruffles his hair, "I need to leave, my boys. I'm sure you'll have fun at the summer ball."

Severus sighs, "I can't exactly refuse, can I?"

Albus chuckles, smiling, "It's good for Harry to get out and have some fresh air, Severus. In fact, how about you two head to the park? It will be a nice test of the warding we did. Make sure the threading set properly."

"Threading?" Harry asks, even if he already knows.

Albus nods, "The strings of magic in the wards connecting to your magic. It is normally just to keep you safe where the wards are, but the special relic we used helps keep you safe outside of it. Severus will know instantly if you're in danger."

And in some cases, they would bring Harry back to the house, out of harms way, but it doesn't feel like that particular magic is threaded into these wards, Harry thinks. But then, that kind of magic can be flawed at best, and Severus isn't the type to have the patience for that kind of particular spells, unless he has woven the spell himself.

Still, it is a strangely comforting thought that Severus will be there to help, if Harry should get in trouble. Aside from that, going to the park does sound like a nice idea, even if he's not really good at playing. There's always the duck pond to look at for a bit, which is better than nothing at least.

They walk from Spinner's End, which neither of them mind. Transport by magic is all well and good, but sometimes, you just need to get about and move on your own.

He holds Severus's hand, since it would be really weird for a four year old not to, and when they get there, the man gently nudges him forward. "Go play, Harry."

He can see several other children around, and he is not all that impressed. He looks back at Severus with a frown, "Do I...." He trails off, spotting something he is /not// expecting behind the man.

That's Hermione.

Holy shit, it's /Hermione//. And she's with a woman who is /not// her mother.

He grins at Severus, and says cheerfully, "I'm gonna make a friend!" And rushes off, running to her. It's a work of a moment to rush to her, and grab her hand, "Hi! I'm Harry!"

The woman looks relieved, "See? Go play with your new friend." And the woman /shoves// Hermione forward. It's only because Harry's in front of Hermione that his friend isn't falling on her face. Harry watches the lady stalk off to a bech, looking angry for some reason.

He looks at Hermione, blinking in shock, "... Are you okay? That your mom?" Even though Harry knows the lady is likely a really bad babysitter.

Hermione flushes, shuffling her feet, and staring at the ground, "'m okay," she mumbles. She doesn't look up, "That's my foster mom. She doesn't like me much."

"Foster mom?" he asks, feeling baffled.

Okay, that was not something he had expected. Severus is watching them, and Harry waves to him, while Hermione frowns at the ground.

"She and her husband take care of me." She mutters, "I think they would rather have had a boy."

Something is definitely different here, but instead of pushing Hermione for information, Harry decides to distract Hermione with something more positive first. Make friends first, then he can hopefully get information.

"Do you like books?"

She flinches, "Y-yes."

Seeing his Hermione like this is painful. He tugs her along, and she lets him. "What's your favorite book?" Since he knows her. She can ramble for hours about books, and what her favorite of the momemnt is.

She shrugs, looking unhappy, "Whatever I can get from the library, when I'm allowed to go."

Oh, Merlin, this is so sad. He helps her sit under a tree, folding down to sit next to her. "When you're allowed to go?"

"My foster parents tell me I have to do sports more than read, and I should stop asking to go to the library."

He kind of wants to curse these foster parents. He wish he knew where her actual parents are. The dentists. "What sports?" he asks reluctantly, since he knows she doesn't care for physical activity like this. She barely likes to duel, and was only in such good shape because magic takes a ton of calories and because of all the walking in Hogwarts up and down steps.

She sighs, looking at the ground, "Rugby, football, swimming, hockey, track... basketball. Lots of things."

She sounds /miserable//.

Harry frowns. This can't be right. As far as he knows, the Grangers have always been supportive of Hermione's love for books. But why is she not with them, but with foster parents forcing her to do something else?

A thought occured to him. A wild one, he admitted, but perhaps worth a shot.

"Why would they want you to do sports?" He asks, "Do they think something else might happen?"

She flinches in response, not looking at him.

He takes her hands, moving so she /has// to look at him, "Tell me? I promise not to make fun of you, no matter what." Hermione is so important to him, and seeing her like this... it hurts.

It hurts so much. He needs to know what is going on, and he's glad he's found her at four. Even if he wishes she was with her parents. Wishes she was with the Grangers. But it's clear she isn't, and he wants her safe so badly.

She finally says, incredibly softly, "I... I can make things move with my mind sometimes. I'm like Matilda, and they hate me like her family did."

Matilda? Isn't that the book Hermione made him read by Roald Dahl? The one about the incredibly smart girl with super powers?

Well, this explains why she had such a soft spot for it before.

He smiles at her, "Wanna know a secret?"

She frowns, but nods, "Yes?"

He winks, "I can, too. Wanna see?"

She frowns at him, "Yes."

He glances around, then grabs a peice of grass into his hand, and holds it in front of her. He flexes his magic, making it float. At her shocked gasp, he grins, "Your turn."

She gives him a shy smile, and he can feel her gather her magic, making the grass waver in his hand, while magic flutters against him. The typical unfocused shove of magic of a child. One who isn't used to what it feels like, but more focused than most.

The stalk of grass rises.

He smiles at her, dropping the grass, and hopping up. Pulling her with him, he says cheerfully, "You need to meet Severus! He's my guardian!"

She blinks at him, uncertain, but Harry just grins.

"He's magical too, he can tell you more stuff!" He says, pulling her along over to Severus, who is sitting and reading on a bench, though Harry knows he is keeping an eye on them.

The potions master looks up when the two children approach, with Harry beaming like a tiny sun at him, as he proudly holds Hermione's hand.

"This is Hermione!" he tells Severus. "She can do magic too!"

Severus' face is priceless, and Harry wishes he had a camera for whenever that happened.

Severus looks at Harry, then Hermione. Harry can see the man taking in Hermione's patched clothing, her tangled hair, and the fear in her eyes. Finally, he reaches over, and takes Harry's hand, looking at Hermione, "And how are you so sure?"

Hermione flushes, looking down at the ground, finally mumbling out, "I can more things with my mind."

Severus raises an eyebrow, "Well, that is certainly an indication. The man puts a bookmark in to set his place, and tucks it away. "How about we talk to your mother about-"

Harry interrupts, "She's a /foster// mother, and she doesn't like magic."

Severus's eyes harden, and Hermione eeps softly, hiding her face in Harry's back. His guardian looks at him, frown on his face, "How are you so sure of that, Harry?"

He crosses his arms, frowning, "She makes Hermione do all sorts of things she hates to stop her magic from acting up."

Severus' face is dark, but even though Hermione can tell it isn't directed at her, she still hides a bit behind Harry.

The woman that is her foster mother (and Merlin, Harry hates that word), suddenly comes over to them, seeming to sense something is going on.

"Hi there, is Hermione being trouble? I'm very sorry, she is just so unruly-"

Severus stands up very suddenly, startling the woman into halting in her speech. Harry glares at her for daring to call Hermione 'unruly', when he knows she is anything but. Especially when Hermione's own reaction is to just stand there, and look into the ground, as if hoping she won't be noticed that way.

Severus says, "My ward certainly doesn't seem to think she's /unruly//, do you Harry?"

He grabs Hermione's hand, squeezing it while sending reassuring feeling magic at her, calming her to the best of his ability. He feels so limited, so hobbled, but he knows he'll be able to extend it more as his magic grows. He looks at Severus, with a tight smile, "Hermione is my /friend//," he stresses the word, knowing the man understands how Harry feels abut friends, "and she's nice."

Hermione shakes against him, mumbling something Harry can't hear. It's clearly her moving her lips, but only barely whispering. He can't interpret it.

The woman grimaces and then tries to cover it up with a smile. "Well I am glad to hear that. It's just that she's not very social, and when we try to get her to interact with other people... then things sometimes... happen."

Probably accidental magic, caused by stress from being forced into an unnecessary situation, such as violent sports. Harry frowns, as he pulls Hermione into a close hug.

She clings to him, soothed a bit as his magic pets and calms her. He glares at the woman, "Well, it's good nothing happened right now, isn't it?" When she doesn't answer, he gives Severus a sharp sort of look, trying to tell the man to hit her with a spell, and remove her entirely. His guardian, damn him, just shakes his head at him.

The woman says, "Well, that's good, but we should be heading home, and-"

Harry feels a sort of... snap of Hermione's magic, and the woman jerks back, holding her face. Hermione shakes, saying, "I don't want to go there! I hate it!"

Seeing an opportunity, he asks, "Did she put you in a /cupboard//? My aunt and uncle put me in a cupboard, so that's why I'm with Severus! He /loves// me like his own son!" He doesn't care if that's true or not, but it's better than this lady by a long shot.

The woman is glaring at Hermione, though her expression changes from furious to shocked, especially at the ice cold look she gets from Severus.

"Of course we don't put her in a cupboard!" She exclaims, "we've never done something like that!"

"But you have done other things, perhaps?" Severus asks, his voice an almost dangerously quiet purr. Harry resists the urge to back away, because he remembers how Severus was at his most dangerous when his voice got like this. He can almost feel the dark magic coming from the older male.

Hermione can as well, clinging to him close, whimpering softly. He sends soothing feelings to her as he hears the lady say, "No! Of course not!"

"I can tell when you /lie//," Severus hisses, low and dangerous, magic flowing around them into a secretive bubble, one that tells everyone around them to //look away, not notice, no one is here, nothing is wrong, everything is fine, just walk around, don't see what is happening//.

It sinks into the ground, into the roots, and Harry knows what is happening.

He brings up his magic, mumbling a muffling spell, and focusing it around Hermione's ears. Just in time, because the muggle screams, landing on her knees, still screaming. Severus looks at Harry, but Harry looks back, showing how he won't say a fucking word to Albus about this, and how Hermione can't hear a damned thing other than her own heartbeat and breathing.

Severus relaxes, shoulders dropping just slightly, and the man nods. He flicks his wand, and the woman is bound in ropes. His guardian takes a breath, then lets it out slow. "They were beating her, and using sports to hide it."

Harry's eyes harden, "Are we keeping her?"

Severus looks at the lady, then at Hermione, "We can not, but I know Lucius and Narcissa have wanted a daughter. Blood adoption is an ...uncommon thing, but one that is legal, safe, and so /very// binding."

Hermione adopted by the Malfoys. There's a thought that Harry never thought he'd ever hear out loud. Or one that sounded so very appealing.

Severus contacts the right authorities, which come in the form of some aurors that Harry has never seen before, except for one. Amelia Bones, who practically oozes calm authority, even as she takes her time to get the story from Severus, and how Harry sensed that something was wrong when it came to Hermione.

Muggles trying to work against something they don't understand is nothing new, but it doesn't make it any less awful. The woman who was her foster mother is taken away, and Harry overhears Amelia telling Severus, that once they have properly cross-examined the woman and her husband, they are going to take care of them. Her tone indicates that it means obliviating the pair of them, and possibly contacting the Muggle authorities, so that no other kids, non-magical or otherwise, will have to suffer under them.

It's better than nothing, Harry supposes, as he concentrates on keeping Hermione calm and safe.

Hermione clings to him, and whispers, almost too soft to be heard, but Hary's magic is still cradling her, helping him hear, "Do I have to go back?"

It breaks his heart to have her ask, to have her think she needs to return to where she's hurt. Well, now she won't be adopted by the Grangers, but will be with the Malfoys. It is so much better, and safer.

He hugs her, letting her cling, "No, never. You won't ever go back to the ones who hurt you. Never again."

She shakes, and clings tighter, "Thank you."

It breaks his heart to see his strong and amazing friend so broken and weak.

--

Harry hums as he brushes Hermione's hair, absently watching Severus doing the finishing touches on the potion he's working on. Hermione is relaxed as she sits on the floor, allowing Harry to mangle her hair into braids. He'll get better if he keeps trying, since he knows he'll need to learn on his own. His hair is growing, and he likes it because it's less of a bird's nest and easier to care for.

Hermione says softly, "What if they hate me?"

He snorts, putting the band on the second braid, "As if. You're wonderful, and they want a smart daughter. You."

"I'm dumb, though."

"Well, that woman was horrendous and a liar, so ignore anything she told you. If you're stupid, I'm a troll."

Hermione says nothing, and Harry sighs internally, before concentrating on the third braid. He has a feeling that Narcissa is going to be good for Hermione, and not just because he thinks the Malfoys will spoil her rotten with all the books she could ever have dreamed of.

Even if Harry only has experienced the asshole side of Draco and Lucius, he knows there is more to them than that.

He has just finished with Hermione's hair, when Severus finishes up the potion. It looks completely crimson in its small beaker, like freshly drawn blood, and Harry grimaces at the sight of it. "What's that?" he asks. He knows what it is, but Hermione should hear about it too.

Severus gives him an amused look, like he knows Harry knows, but is willing to indulge him just for the chance to teach someone who is curious about his art. Man is too fucking smart for his own good, but it helps Harry a lot more than he'd ever thought it would.

Severus moves over to the couch with him, holding the bottle in front of Hermione as Harry keeps braiding, "This is the blood adoption potion, Hermione. It tastes like whatever the family magic of the ones adopting you do. Every family is unique, and the taste meant to be secret to the family you are going into."

Hermione frowns, "Will it be gross?"

Severus shrugs, "Who knows? Now," he gives her an incredibly softened sharp look, "you will change how you look."

Hermione stares at her hands, dark skinned as Harry knows her, her hair a bushy, lovely mess, inclined to turn into an afro, rather than cornrow. She touches her nose, a large, beautiful, button. "How?," she murmurs, looking a little worried.

"No one changes the same way. But the older you are, the less that changes. You are four, so you should be fine."

"I'm five," she corrects, looking worried.

"That is also fine, Hermione. Don't worry."

She does worry though, she worries so much, and Harry can practically feel it shimmering in the air around her. He takes her hand and gently squeezes it, giving her a warm, assuring smile.

"You're going to be fine, Hermione." He tells her gently. "They're going to love you."

Hermione has only met the Malfoys once, a few days after they got her away from that horrible woman, and Harry could tell already, that the Malfoys absolutely loved her. Draco seemed the most thrilled of all, at the thought of getting a sister, and Narcissa had told Severus that Hermione's foster parents should be ashamed of how they couldn't see the treasure they'd had.

Harry's prediction about what happened to the foster parents was true as well. Amelia had come by, while he and Hermione were upstairs, and she had told Severus that they had been obliviated, and the muggle authorities were making an investigation on them.

It's a small comfort for Hermione, knowing that those people will never hurt anyone ever again, but it's better than nothing for now.

For now, it's time for them all to go to the Malfoy mansion, and they are going to do so through a portkey. Severus has enchanted a sofa cushion for them all to hold on to, and Harry gives Hermione's hand a squeeze before he reaches out and grabs on to it.

It's every bit as terrible as always. But when he pulls himself up from the ground, Draco shoves Tiberius, their doll, into his arms. "There," the boy says, nodding. "You're visiting, so you take him home." Then, ignoring Harry completely, Draco hugs Hermione, and says, "We're gonna be /family//!"

Hermione squeaks, staring at Draco worriedly, then slowly hugs the boy back. She rests her head on his shoulder, and mumbles, "Yeah... we're siblings."

Draco grins, saying cheerfully, "I hope you keep your skin color! I /burn// if I'm outside too long, and it isn't fair! Mother says it is because I don't have enough melons in my skin."

"Melanin," Hermione corrects gently, looking a little happier. "That's the color in your skin and hair. Harry has none in his hair for some reason he won't tell me."

Draco shoots Harry a worried look, and says, "He is allowed family secrets. You don't ask such things."

Hermione looks ready to clamp up, worried she has done something wrong, but Harry quickly gets a hold of one of her hands and squeezes it gently. "It's okay, 'Mione." He tells her. "You're still learning. Sometimes, you can't get answers to all your questions."

She still looks worried, but she returns the squeeze, feeling a bit more calmed down.

Severus looks over at them, holding up the potion, "Your parents have added their blood to the potion, Hermione. You may drink it now." When she reaches for it, he keeps it away, adding, "It may hurt. We can't know until you drink it. Just know, that no matter what happens, your parents love you dearly."

Hermione looks over at Lucius and Narcissa, who hurry over to scoop her up, and hug her close, Draco held with them in a tight embrace.

Harry can feel jealousy and hurt filling Severus, his magic tinging slowly, so Harry moves close, tucking himself against the man's legs. Instantly, the bad feelings stop, and Severus smiles down at him, loving and kind.

Harry knows why too. Severus sees him as his child now, which is a far better alternative than the non-relationship they had in another timeline. And Harry has become fond of Severus as well. He respects the man's abilities with his potion making and spell casting, but it's the protective nature that Severus has, that really hits home.

He doesn't recall ever feeling this safe with anyone, not even the Weasleys.

"We better go, Harry." Severus says quietly. "Part of this ceremony is very private, but we can visit Hermione and Draco again soon."

He nods, eyeing the pillow, "Are we taking the portkey?"

Severus scoops him up, holding him in his arms, "No, the Floo is fine. You seem to like that more, anyway."

He nods, pleased. "I do." He adjusts his hold on the doll, and takes the pillow in his other arm. He smiles at Narcissa as she nods at them, letting them leave.

--

Harry hums as he works on his child's potions. It's all essentially salves, and not anything actually magical, but much better than anything in his previous childhood. He's adding oil to the mint paste with willowbark when he pauses, hearing the sound of feet rushing up the stairs.

He can hear Hermione yelling, "You aren't supposed to run!" when his door opens, Draco hurrying in.

He stares at the boy blankly, and then watches Hermione come in. When they're both near him, he says, "Your hair looks nice, Hermione."

She blinks and ducks her head, but she is smiling. Her hair seems almost stark white against her dark skin, but the contrast looks amazing on Hermione. There's a small change to her eye color as well, but it's so tiny that Harry doesn't comment on it. Her hair is tied in the three-braid, but it's much neater now. Hermione's curls are still doing their own thing, though, showing how she hasn't had them tamed by magical hair products.

Harry grins. He can't help it, because it's barely been a week, and Hermione is already doing so much better. He has heard Lucius confide in Severus over Floo-call, that Narcissa is doting on her, and letting Hermione sit and read with Draco.

They still do outdoor things, but Hermione is not being forced. It makes an enormous difference.

Draco peers at his 'potion.' "Is that the soothing salve?"

He sighs, handing it to Draco, who eagerly starts mixing it. "Yes. I mostly just want to show Severus that I am able to do more than what he normally asks me to."

"You get to use /knives//," Draco says, sounding a little sulky. "He won't let me use knives."

"Harry can do things without using his hands," Hermione points out, moving over to the table Harry has, adjusting his toys. "He doesn't have the possibility of cutting himself."

"Uncle Sev doesn't let him use magic to cut with the knives, though," Draco points out.

Harry starts cleaning up, washing things with magic or a wet washcloth where most applicable, "I was forced to do all the chores in my old home, Draco. He trusts me because I was made to do dangerous things as a toddler when I really shouldn't have been in the kitchen."

"Why would they do that anyway?" Draco asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Because Muggles do things differently." Is all Harry says, his tone indicating that it's all he wants to say about this subject. He honestly doesn't mind explaining some things to Draco, but compared to Harry, he is still too young to understand, and Harry doesn't feel like repeating himself, or to be constantly reminded of the hell hole he came from.

Hermione seems to catch on quicker (but then why wouldn't she?) and carefully tugs on Draco's sleeve. It seems to have become a signal between them of some kind, because Draco doesn't complain further about the knives. Instead, when Harry asks for help with some bark that needs to be crushed with the pestle, Draco happily takes over from there, sitting on his own chair by the work table, while Hermione helps Harry go through the recipe.

They get into an easy rythm, Draco wanting to know why Harry won't use his magic to do things, only to accept it when he explains how Severus won't allow magic to be used unless the potion specifically requires it.

No potion requires it until third year, so that isn't a problem at all.

And third year only has it very /rarely//. Severus doesn't want to allow idiot children to fuck up something sensitive. Not that Harry blames him in the least.

--

A few weeks later, it is time for the Malfoys' Midsummer ball. It's going to be an even bigger event than usual, because the Malfoys are also going to use it as an introduction ball for Hermione, showing everyone in the different families that she is part of their family now.

And knowing Lucius, he is going to subtly warn certain people to keep their distance, and their mouths shut, unless they want something nasty to happen to them.

Not that Harry would expect anything different. He remembers how protective the Weasleys were of their own, unless you're accepted as a part of them. Molly's cold attitude towards Fleur until Bill was turned into a werewolf could probably have turned really ugly, if she'd had the same wealth and influence that Lucius had.

But it's not certain that this coupling will happen in this timeline. There was a reason that Hermione in a different past warned Harry about how time travel worked. A lot of things have already gone differently. For all Harry knows, the Triwizard Tournament might not happen at Hogwarts. And even if it does, he is going to keep his name from going into the goblet, because there is no way in hell that he is going through that shit again.

He's pretty sure he has the pull to hire a cursebreaker, too. If worse comes to worst, anyway.

Granted most curse breaking is very /literal// in the breaking sense when it comes to objects. It's why a horcrux is such a terrible danger. Tearing a soul to shreds and shoving it into a priceless object. It's just horrifying on all levels.

But right now, Severus is looking him over, "Are you certain you want long hair?"

He toys with his braid, "I like it." It's much more controlable, anyway. He eyes Severus, "And you gave me the potion."

"Only because you kept giving me that /look//."

He smiles, "I like it a lot." He reaches up, touching Severus's own longer hair, grinning. "We look nice."

Severus sighs, adjusting his robes, tying them so they fit a little better, "You're lucky I like you so much, you little pest."

He just grins wider, "You /love// me."

The man scoops him up, looking put upon, "Merlin knows why."

He cuddles his guardian, "You /love// me, and you're happy I'm your ward."

Severus sighs, but he returns the cuddle, brushing some of his fingers through Harry's white locks.

"Yes, yes I am." He hums. "But don't go projecting it everywhere, you little brat."

Harry giggles, but just holds on to Severus as the older male picks up some floo powder and throws it into the fireplace. A few steps later, they are in the Malfoy Mansion, and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Why in the world did it have to be so damn bright?

The Malfoys have spared no expenses with their decorations. Fairy lights hang everywhere, and the chandeliers shine golden and white, their diamond decorations gleaming in the light of the sun coming through the windows.

"Eugh," he mutters, squinting at things.

Severus sighs, "Migraine?"

He closes his eyes, "Maybe?"

Severus sets him down, tapping his glasses with his wand, "There. Tell me if that helps."

He opens his eyes, and grins, "Yes! Thank you, Severus!" He adjusts his darkened glasses, looking around. "Where do I go?"

Severus nabs his hand, walking him along, "You go say hello to the hosts."

He keeps from rolling his eyes, and nods. When they get to where Narcissa and Lucus are standing, he holds his arms up, letting Narcissa hug him, and saying carefully, "Hello, Aunt Cissy!" Since she /insists//. He'd play the, 'oh no, my only aunt actually hates and abused me' card, but it makes her genuinely happy to be called Aunt.

He rolls with it.

And it helps that she is genuinely happy to see him. None of it is in an act, for some political gain. Even if being 'boy-who-lived' approved helps with some things.

It does remind Harry that he's going to have to look into the people who write books about him, because he remembers having to deal with conflicting questions when he was an Auror, from people who had read 'official' biographies about him, so they didn't know whether to believe those biographies, or the articles of that fucking Skeeter woman.

Merlin, so many things to remember to keep an eye out for. But for now, there's a party to at least try and enjoy with his friends, so Harry goes to do just that when he has said his hello's to Lucius and Narcissa, finding Draco and Hermione by the buffet table along with some other magical children.

Harry beams when he spots Neville among them. It's not entirely unexpected, with the Longbottoms being among the older families that you practically have to invite to everything, but it's still a nice surprise.

Draco and Hermione both spot him and drag him over to the other children. Hermione hugging him tightly, and saying cheerfully, "Harry! This is Susan!" She introduces him to a redheaded girl, who waves at him shyly, "And Hannah!" The blonde girl clinging to Susan giggles softly, hiding her face against the other girl.

He gives Hermione a slightly baffled look, but says, "Hello, Susan, Hannah."

Draco snorts, pointing at a black boy, "That's Blaise."

He nods, "Hello, Blaise."

The thin, but slightly tall, boy smiles at him, nodding. "Hello."

Harry looks over at Neville, who just grins at him, clearly unwilling to bail him out of all the introductions. He gives the boy a betrayed look, but all Neville does is return his focus to a blonde, curly haired, boy, who looks pompus as all fuck. He nods at him, "Who's Neville talking to?"

Draco makes a face, whispering, "Ignore Zacharias, Harry. He's a /blowhard//."

Hermione doesn't chastize her brother, which is kind of amazing, but also shows she honestly agrees. Instead, she pulls him along, "Pansy and I were talking about some of the accidental magic we've done. Will you show everyone some things you can do?"

Harry grimaces. He doesn't really like the idea of showing off to anyone, especially not when there are strange adults around too. You never know who might be watching or listening.

"Do I /have// to show them?" He asks, giving Hermione an almost pleading look. He wants to show he supports her in every way, but just not like this in front of new people. Well, new-ish. He'd rather get to know everyone first a second time.

She gives him a kicked puppy look, but he closes his eyes and looks away. He's not falling for it. He will /not//. He won't be talked into such things. Draco tugs on him lightly, "Harry, please? Pansy can make flowers grow."

He blinks, "What?" That sounds like something he wishes he'd known the first time.

Pansy grins at him, "Wanna see?"

Suddenly, all the other children are paying attention, and hurrying around to watch in excitement. Magic may be something the adults do casually, but no one under the age of eleven has a wand. Severus says it has something to do with magical cores, and Albus agrees. It's why they moniter Harry so damned close when he uses his magic.

Neville pulls out a pot with dirt in it, "Here!"

Pansy accepts the pot and concentrates, biting her lower lips as she does so, while staring intensely at the dirt.

It takes a while, as some things do, but at some point, the dirt begins to stir and a tiny curl of green begins to rise from the soil, folding itself out slowly before it grows more and more, becoming larger and thicker in its stem.

"Why are we watching this? This is stupid." Zacharias grumbles, and then hisses when Draco gives him an elbow in the ribs.

"I think it's brilliant." Harry declares, earning him a shy smile from Pansy.

Hermione grins, leaning against him, "It is!" She pauses, watching the other girl, and puts a hand on her arm, "Pansy? Do you want something to eat? You look tired."

The girl looks forelornly at the plant, "I can... I can keep going."

Harry touches her hand, "No, it's okay. Albus says it's best to be careful with your magic when you're our age."

"Albus?" Zacharias huffs, looking irritated.

Harry nods, "Yes, Albus Dumbledore."

Several of the children look bewildered, but Zacharias crosses his arms, "You don't know Albus Dumbledore. Who do you think you are? Harry Potter?"

He glances at Draco, Neville, and Hermione, finally looking back at the boy, "Well, yes. I am Harry Potter."

There's gasping from some of the kids, but Zacharias snorts, "Harry Potter doesn't /exist//, dummy. Like /Santa Claus//."

Wow. He knew Zacharias was a little shit, but he didn't know it went this far back.

"Why don't you shut your stupid mouth, before you make yourself look dumber than you already are?" Draco immediately exclaims. Hermione jumps slightly and looks around worriedly, and Harry frowns, quietly clenching his fists as he reminds himself, that not everything can be solved over night.

"It's okay, Draco." He says instead. "If he doesn't believe who I am, that's his problem."

Merlin, he knows the magical world has its stupid moments, but this takes the cake. At least in this time line for the moment.

Zacharias just sneers. "Whatever, it's not like you're worth hanging out with anyway." He says. "Growing flowers? Claiming you're someone you're not?" He shakes his head and stalks off.

"Wow." Harry says drily. "He is just going to be so much fun to be in school with."

Hermione mutters, "You think we could push him down the stairs?"

"Hermione!" Susan gasps, hands on her hips, "You can't say that!"

Hannah nods, "Yeah, her aunt is an auror. You have to plot things like that where she can't hear."

"Hannah!"

The blonde girl shrugs, "Susan. He's gonna be in /Hufflepuff// with us. If he gets gored by a unicorn, all the better for us."

Harry had no idea small children could be so brutal. He coughs, changing the subject, "Okay, who wants to see me move things?"

Draco grins, "Juggle! You gotta show them your juggling!"

Hermione nods, "Five things."

He sighs, "Fine. Five things. Five of the /same// things." It's harder to juggle things in different shapes, and all the same shaped things makes it much easier.

Draco gets five things in the form of some balls, that he might have gotten from his room. Harry starts off with two of them, and Draco is only too happy to toss the other three to him, one at a time, until he stands and juggles the five balls.

One favourite trick is making his hands move faster, so all five balls are in the air at the same time, before Harry catches them again, one at a time and moves them along. Then, one by one, he stops using his hands, tossing them purely by magic. He grins, waiting for the ones not used to him catching on, since most people focus higher up when they see juggling. But soon, Pansy gasps, tugging on the kids next to her.

Blaise stares at him, the normally unflappable boy's mouth agape. While Susan's eyes are huge, Hannah bouncing up and down excitedly. Once he has all of their attentions, he winks, and jerks his head, walking out to where the adults are. Hermione and Draco instanly grabbing his arms to 'escort' him to the snack table.

Pretty soon, Severus comes over to him, arms crossed, "Harry."

He grins up at the man, chewing on the slice of cake Draco is slowly feeding him. He swallows, tilts his head, and asks, confusion artfully splashed on his face, "Yes, Severus?"

"What have I said about showing off?"

He grins, teeth glinting, "Only do it when you have a good reason."

Severus pauses, clearly realizing he /did// say that, then asks, "And what is the reason?"

Hannah's the one to answer, sounding smug, "To show that toerag Smith he's not the next coming of Merlin, and that Harry actually exists!"

Severus lifts an eyebrow. "Smith?" He asks.

"Zachariah Smith." Harry confirms with a nod. "He doesn't believe I exist."

Severus just gives him the weirdest look ever, before he just shakes his head. "Just don't cause any trouble, alright?" He asks, "And don't show off more than you have to."

"I won't!" Harry says cheerfully, before Severus turns and walks off. Maybe he is off to ask some questions of Zachariah's parents? It wouldn't be the first time Severus has been off to make a few 'corrections.'

Neville says cheerfully, "I'm gonna follow him."

Harry nods, "If you want to." Since he's not going to stop the boy if it comes down to it. Neville can do what he likes.

Draco and Hermione exchange looks, and it is /impressive as hell// how well they communicate now. But it seems that whatever they're discussing is taken out of their hands due to Blaise pitching in, "I'm going with him," and walking off to Severus with Neville.

Harry lets himself be lead back to the children's area, cheerfully eating the food the other kids stuff in his mouth. He's mostly doing this to see if they'll keep doing it, and it looks like they're all happy to. Granted, it's mostly Draco feeding him, but the girls are happy to hold the plates for Draco to take the food off of them.

Eventually, they settle down, the balls being put back down and put away somewhere. The children's area has sandbags, which the kids all curl up on, relaxing on them while eating or talking.

Once in a while, curious about what went on before, some of the adults come over to speak with the children. Harry recognises some of them, while others are completely new, among them being a few whose names vaguely ring a bell, but he's never seen their faces before. Maybe he's seen them somewhere in relation to something.

And then Rita Skeeter is suddenly there, and Harry feels it as if someone pricked him down the back with a very cold finger. Especially when she beams at him, with those hideous, bug-like glasses of hers.

"Hello there!" She cooes at him, as though he was some kind of teacup pet. "You must be Harry! Aren't you just adorable!"

Oh man, he knows how to fuck her /up//. He looks at her, squinting a bit, unsure if she can see his eyes behind his darkened glasses, and says, very loudly, "Why does your magic feel like a /bug//?" He can vaguely feel it, too. Since before all this nonsense happened, he'd been training himself to figure out who animaguses are. And, yes, she feels like a bug. A bug shaped impression stamped all over her magic.

Just like a werewolf has a wolf shaped twist in their magic. It takes up the same sort of magical 'slot' as an animagus transformation does. A werewolf just feels... ill, though. Sickly. Animagus feel much more healthy.

"Are you a /bug//?" he asks, sitting up. "You feel like a beetle."

Rita stares, then laughs. "Oh what an imagination!" She chitters, "I do admit my glasses look a little bug-like, but-"

"But what, miss Skeeter?" Asks a calm, cool voice.

Lucius must have taken sneaking lessons from Snape, because Harry was pretty sure he didn't even /feel// the man show up. But there he is, his ball outfit an impressive array of dark greens and bits of silver, his hair tied back with a black hairtie. Where his outfit makes one think of the warm summer, his eyes are completely cold.

"But what, miss Skeeter?" He asks again, his lips stretched in a stiff, venomous smile, "what are you assuming about the boy? I would simply love to know. Especially how you got in here, considering /you were not invited!//"

Harry says, again, "Her magic feels like a /bug//!"

Lucius pats his head softly, "You've said, Harry. Thank you for telling us. I will get rid of her, and-"

"Her magic feels like a bug like Aunt Minnie's is like a /cat//." Since he met Minerva once, when she went to check on him in the name of meeting him, but he knows she just wanted to make sure Severus wasn't abusing him.

It was annoying, but he dealt with it.

Lucius freezes, then snaps out the knockout charm when Rita tries to run away. Lucius looks at Harry, and pats him on the head again, "Thank you, Harry. That is very important. Tell us if anyone else is like that, will you?"

Eh, he'll make his own discretion. He's not pointing out /Severus// is an animagus. At least, not to all these people here.

Rita is carried off, and the excitement dies off after that. The other strange adults, Harry notices, have a quiet talk with Lucius, and it hits him then, that they are perhaps journalists from the Daily Prophet.

Unlike Rita, however, they were not asking any super personal questions, like she would probably have done. They had asked all the children, and while they had looked at Harry's hair, they didn't pay him any special attention.

It makes sense of course, that there would be journalists reporting on the Midsummer Ball. And no surprise that Rita Skeeter wasn't invited. That woman has a way if sullying everything she touches, and with Lucius being a former Death Eater...

Well, knowing Lucius, he won't have to worry about that horrendous cur anymore.

He eats more chocolate cake as Neville comes back over, Blaise following casually behind. His friend blinks at them, then back at Blaise. The black boy shrugs, making Neville sigh. "Harry, you're gonna get /fat//."

He stares at his friend, eating two more bites before saying, "And /happy//. You need to remember the rest of that. Fat and happy. Also, magic makes you use up calories like nothing else." He should know, since he ate nothing but sugar while master of death.

Neville frowns, "So... should I try to do what you do?"

Harry shakes his head, "Likely not a good idea. Wait until we have wands."

Neville looks thoughtful, but Draco shrugs. "It makes sense." He says. "Everyone uses their magic differently, and Harry uses a lot of his."

Harry smiles to himself, while Neville nods, accepting that explanation. It is so nice to be able to talk to everyone like this, honestly. He really hopes the sorting at Hogwarts won't ruin that, even if it will be a few years before that happens.

But, if he's friends with everyone here, then it is very likely the Houses won't matter. He's hoping that happens, since it will make life so much /easier//.

Neville scoots into Harry's lap, saying cheerfully, "So, what was the lady being dragged out about?"

"She was... rude," Hermione says, looking irritated. "Father said reporters weren't to come near us, but she had a quill that wrote as we talked."

Harry hadn't even noticed, but he's not surprised by any means.

"Harry said something about her being bug-like." Draco said. "It got dad suspicious, especially 'cause he told the woman, that she had not been invited." He frowned, looking at Harry at that. "What did you mean by that, though?" He asks him. "How was she 'bug-like?' Aside from her glasses?"

Harry shrugs. "It's something I can sense sometimes."

"What do you /mean//?"

"And who's 'Aunt Minnie'?" Hermione adds, poking him in the side.

He fends off her prodding fingers, "Professor McGonnagal. She teaches at Hogwarts. Her magic feels like a cat."

"What does /my// magic feel like?" Pansy asks, looking genuinely curious.

He has his magic touch hers, and he shrugs, "It feels human shaped."

"What about mine?" Blaise asks, leaning forward.

He sighs, pressing his magic closer, only to freeze, frowning. "I- I..." He frowns, "Warm?" He touches it again, and it feels like, well, it's gross to think this, since the kid is /five//, but his magic has a tinge of /sexual// attraction. And that is creepy as hell.

Blaise perks up, "I have warm magic?"

Harry attempts to scoot away, but he's kind of trapped, "Uh.... yes? Please stop moving closer to me, it is not a good thing for me." When Blaise /ignores// his request, he flops over the back of the sandbag, feeling queasy. "Stop."

Blaise frowns, "Why? I like warm things."

It is shit he does /not// want to explain to a kid. "It just... it doesn't feel good to me. Stop trying to get me to touch it more."

"Blaise?" A woman's voice calls out. Looking up reveals a striking black woman, who stands holding a glass of wine.

Harry can practically see her aura of magic. If Blaise feels warm, this woman, no doubt his mother, feels like an inferno.

"Come here for a moment, Blaise. I want you to meet someone." Madam Zabini says pleasantly, and Blaise obeys, getting to his feet and walking over to her, though he looks almost bored with the thought.

Well, Harry thinks when his head clears up a bit. Blaise's mom is part Succubus. That explains a /lot.//

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asks carefully, and Harry just nods, pushing himself up so he's sitting up straight.

"I'm alright. Just a bit tired." He admits.

"...if you're sure."

He nods, stretching a bit, "I'm gonna go talk to Severus."

Draco looks disappointed, "You want to head home?" Before Harry can respond, the boy scrambles up, "I'll go get Tiberius."

He blinks as Draco hurries away, finally saying, "I just wanted to walk around a bit to wake up?"

Hermione giggles softly, Pansy joining in. Neville snorts, "We'll tell him. You go see your guardian."

He nods, wandering off. He eventually finds Severus talking to a man with sallow skin and greasy hair. The sure sign his guardian has found another potions master. Slipping his hand in Severus's, he listens in as they talk for a bit. The man Severus is talking to says, "I just wish I could figure out how to cut it all from a distance. By being so close, my body's heat interferes with the lethifold skin."

Harry decides to add his own commentary, since what else would a four year old do? Well, he now knows Hannah would threaten bodily harm, but that's not his style. So he says, "I can cut up things from a distance."

Severus sighs, scooping him up with care, "I know you can, Harry, but that doesn't help him."

"He can animate the knife."

The man blinks, looking thoughtful, "Maybe with a rune for animation on it?"

Severus frowns, and Harry can tell he is actually thinking about it. "It would depend on the knife." He finally says. "As well as the runes."

"Of course," the other man agrees, stroking his chin in thought. "Hecate's Runes might work with bone, especially if working with Belladonna or Mandrake, as an example."

"Depending on the type of bone." Severus adds.

Harry just rests in Severus' arms, finding the conversation fascinating and a bit soothing. It's also kind of fun to see Severus in his element like this, especially with another potions master who isn't Slughorn. That man was good too, but too busy kissing up to the more powerful people. This other man and Severus seem on good terms, and Harry can tell from his magic, that he has his own share of talents. He is not a former Death Eater from the looks of it, but there's definitely nothing wrong with that.

He tests the man's magic, and can't find any of Voldemort's taint on his arm, either. Absolutely not a death eater.

He pauses, thinking about it. He tried this later in his life, so he may want to again. He can still talk to snakes, so he knows his magic will allow him to remove the dark mark. He may need a wand for it, though. It's kind of fiddly and complicated if he doesn't want to yank it off.

He's told yanking it apart is incredibly painful.

He won't do that to his Severus.

And Severus /is// his. He won't give up the man for anything now. No, they won't get married, but he still considers the man all his. Like... a favored and loved uncle. Family he wants. Like how the Weasleys used to be, and may one day turn out to be again.

Eventually, he decides to go back to the other kids, and has Severus put him down on the floor. He giggles when Severus ruffles his hair, before the Potions Master turns back to the other man, continuing their conversation.

Harry is honestly glad that Severus can talk to someone about potions. It's good to have something in common with someone.

The other kids are talking about familiars when Harry comes back. Blaise has returned as well, and the strange warmth of his magic isn't as strong as it was before, or it doesn't feel like that before. Harry wonders if it's because he felt the power of Madam Zabini's magic, or it's something else. He mentally shrugs it off for now, finding a spot between Hermione and Draco, while Neville is talking about how he would like to have an owl, if he gets into Hogwarts.

"Of course you'll get into Hogwarts." Harry says with a snort, "you're just as magical as the rest of us." He really hopes there hasn't been anyone saying dumb things about Neville's magic again, /or else.//

Neville shrugs on his part. "I know." He says, "it just feels frustrating sometimes, that I can't quite use magic yet. I mean, I try to practice, but I can't even lift a quill with levitation."

He shakes his head, "Neville, you make the plants in your greenhouses grow far better than most adults. It's mostly subconsious for you to expend your magic that way." He points at Pansy, "While she looks more impressive, and it /is//," he adds when she looks upset at him, certain she's going to get bad mouthed, "it isn't the same thing. How long do the plants you grow live, Pansy?"

She bites her lip, thinking, "A few weeks?"

Harry nods, "Which is very good if you're trying to breed plants faster, but not when you want them to last a long time."

Pansy frowns, "Should I stop?"

He shakes his head, "If you enjoy it, keep doing it. No one will stop you. Or, if they do, they're likely trying to make you feel bad or are doing it because you're hurting your magical growth."

She nods slowly, "I like doing it. It's something I can do, and the adults can't."

Well, they can, it's just rarely worth it. He knows Neville did sometimes, for the fast breeding, but it wasn't something most people cared to do.

For the most part, it was because it somehow made the plant's abilities less effective. It was fine if it was needed for say, a mild medical potion, but for something more severe, the plant needed to be more slowly matured. It was kind of like aged wine, when Harry thought about it, but it wasn't something he could quite explain to the other kids yet.

There was a soft chiming at sudden, and all conversation went quiet. Hermione and Draco seemed to have expected this, because they get to their feet, brushing themselves off and making themselves as presentable as possible, before going over to Narcissa.

Ah, Harry thinks, it must be time for Hermione's official introduction. He gets up along with the other children, and quickly goes to find Severus, while the other children find their parents or guardians.

Severus scoops him up again, holding him. Harry actually really /likes// being held, so he doesn't protest how clingy Severus can get. He's pretty sure the man does it to keep him safe, but it could also be part of the warding.

He knows when he put wards in on his home, anyone living with him at the time had to be touched once a day when he saw them. It's kind of weird.

He leans on Severus's chest, watching Hermione be introduced. She curtsies and is just generally a cute little girl. He likes that they put her hair in a cute frizzy afro, making it look like a really well done sphere. It's impressive what magic can do.

Once that happens, Severus carries him to a table, and he blinks, "We're sitting down for food?" He thought it was a buffet style thing.

Severus chuckles, "Just small things. Mostly to show off how good Hermione and Draco's manners are. You took your lessons, so I know you'll behave."

He sighs, "No elbows on table, silverware from the outside in."

"Very good, but you must also sit straight."

Ugh, he hates having to use good manners. What's the point of being a child again if you can't act like a proper little hellion?

Ah well, he's doing this for Hermione. and it's only for two meals from the looks of it. So he sits up straight like he is told, keeps his hands down. Lucius waits until everyone is seated, and then makes a toast to Hermione and to the Malfoy family. He finishes with the Malfoy's family motto in latin, which seems to be the signal for the food to finally appear.

It's an appetizer to start with, which looks like some kind of cocktail, with shrimp or other similar things for the adults, while it's more of a mix of chicken or ham for the children, though it all has a decoration of salad on the side.

Harry thinks on his part it looks good, if a bit strange, but then he's not used to dining fancy like this. Some of the other children look like they don't know what to think, or at least some of them. Blaise and Zacharias for example just look at the food with cool indifference, until Lucius gives the signal to eat.

Harry nibbles on what he has, not really sure how he likes it. It's okay, but clearly made by house elves. He's just more used to things made by humans at this point, though. While, in his previous life, this would have been amazing. It's just that /now// he gets to eat his own cooking, making the taste blow away anything made by creatures afraid of a beating.

Well, he heard from Hermione that Lucius got yelled at by Narcissa for threatening their elves. It seems Hermione was afraid Lucius would do the same to /her//, and Narcissa won't allow such a thing to ever cross her new daughter's mind.

Harry approves of it, since Dobby is likely a million times happier now.

He still likes his own food more.

The meal is considered over when the Malfoys have finished their part. There is of course a polite moment to see if anyone else is still eating, but for the adults who enjoy such things, the appetizer has quickly been finished, and the children don't need to be forced to finish theirs.

The food is vanished from the plates, and people break into conversation with whoever they are seated with. Severus on his part is seated next to Madam Zabini, and Harry notes curiously that her inferno of magic seems as if it's turned down, like the volume on a radio turned low so the music isn't too loud. It could be because she isn't interested in Severus as a marriage opportunity (as Harry remembers, that Blaise's mother had been married a few times in his former future).

And Harry is fine with that, to be honest. Madame Zabini isn't a threat, despite being from a dark family. At least, not in this timeline.

Thinking about time reminds Harry once more of Death. He idly sits back in his chair, thinking back to the very uncomfortable meeting. Of the cards that Death showed him, of the lives it informed him that could be saved...

Sirius. He needs to find a way to get him out. Finding Pettigrew is probably the only first place he can start, but he has yet to meet any Weasley family members, at least not through the Malfoys. But what about the Longbottoms?

Harry's thoughts are cut off at the light ringing of a silver bell, which announces the main course. He straightens up, keeping his hands in his lap while waiting for the food to appear.

When the rest of the food comes out, he just focuses on enjoying it.

--

Harry runs his hand down his hair, forcing it into an awkwardly magicked braid. He scowls at it, and is about to comb it out when Severus knocks at his door. He frowns at his reflection, calling out, "Come in!"

The door opens, and Severus looks at him, sighing with a tiny smile. "I told you to be ready, not mangle your hair into mats. Do you not want to visit the Weasleys?"

He wants /very much// to visit them!

He turns to his guardian, "I can't braid my hair!" Since he knows the man can help him out.

Severus sighs, twirling his wand slightly, and it comes undone, with a tiny bit of yanking, but nothing too terrible. "You tried to use magic, didn't you?"

He flushes, looking down, "...maybe?" It's /embarrassing//! He doesn't want to admit it.

Severus shakes his head, gently taking his hair and braiding it with deft movements. "There." He's scooped up in the man's arms, "Now, they have a boy your age and a girl a year younger. And many more boys older than you. If you don't want to go, we don't have to."

Harry knows Severus is asking again so /Severus// doesn't have to go, but Harry knows where Peter is, and he can not let this go to waste. "I want to."

His guardian closes his eyes, and sighs softly, just once, then straightens up, carrying him to the floo, "Then, away we go." Harry throws in the powder for his guardian, letting the man say clearly, "The Burrow," and through the fireplace they go.

The kitchen is just the way he remembers it, and Harry has to look away for a moment, burying his head into Severus' shoulder. It's not the first time he has done this, and Severus thinks it's because Harry is still a bit nervous about floo calls. So the older man takes a moment to soothingly rub Harry's shoulders, when Molly comes bustling in.

"Oh!" She exclaims when she sees the two of them, "You're here! I thought I heard the fireplace going. Just a moment, please, I just settled Ginny down for her nap and the boys are outside." She smiles warmly at the sight of Harry. "I am so glad you could come, Harry. I hope you will have a lovely time here."

He smiles at her, "I do, too."

Severus sighs, looking at him, and frowns as he follows Harry out. Molly shooing the man out, refusing to let him stay in the kitchen, since she's cooking.

When they're out, Harry looks up at Severus, "Does she think you can't cook?"

His guardian snorts, "No, she just doesn't want me to interrupt her as she cooks."

Harry  shrugs, then takes Severus's hand, walking with his guardian to where all the children are. The two tallest both look over at them, and proceed to fall over themselves, getting dogpiled by their younger siblings. Severus sighs loudly, "Mr. Weasleys, do be more coordinated than that. One would think with your grace in the air, it would translate to better agility on land."

Harry hides his grin behind his hand as both Bill and Charlie protest. Even if, at this point, only Bill is on the Quiddich team.

It looks like it's just the twins and Percy being wrestled right now, while Ron is sitting for himself and carefully cuddling what looks like some kind of plush. He is keeping a wary eye on the twins, even while they are being pinned by his older brothers.

And then Harry remembers how Fred turned Ron's teddy bear into a spider when Ron was just three, so if there's been an argument prior to the wrestling, then it's no wonder that Ron is feeling a bit paranoid.

So Harry decides to do what he does best. He goes over to introduce himself, climbing up on the couch and plopping down next to Ron. "Hi!"

Ron blinks at him warily, "... hi. Who're you?"

He perks up, "I'm Harry Potter!"

Severus facepalms beside him, and Ron blinks, "Like the books?"

But Fred and George come running up together, making poor Ron flinch away from them, and they chorus, "Are you /really// Harry Potter?"

Percy coming up close behind asks, "Do you have the scar?"

Harry looks at the gathering of various children, and decides to be a smartarse. "That /is// my name, but I dunno if I'm like from the books. You see," he moves his hair away from his much fainter scar, "I got this from being shot with a gun." He puts his finger to his scar, thumb up in a gun gesture, and jerks both it and his head, saying, "Bam!"

The children look at him uncomprehendingly, and Severus gives a longsuffering sigh, "Don't joke like that with purebloods, Harry. They don't know what guns are."

Harry frowns, and does what a typical five year old would do. "But /Draco// knows what a gun is, and he is always going on about how pure Malfoys are."

"That's because he has Hermione to help him find out." Severus replies patiently. "You know she is always happy to help her brother."

"How do you know the Malfoys?" Bill asks curiously. "Our dad only knows Mr. Malfoy from work."

Harry shrugs as if it's not a big deal, which it really isn't. "We've been to visit them, and were invited to their Midsummer ball. It was okay."

"Midsummer Ball?" Percy asks, looking genuinely curious, climbing onto the bench with them.

Harry looks up at Severus, who just smirks at him. Who knew it was so easy to convey, 'You dug this hole, now you get to figure your own way out, sucker,' in facial expressions? That bastard.

He looks at Percy, and says, "Yes. It's a sort of dance party thing, and was filled with /so many// boring adults." He looks right at Severus, "/So many//."

Severus, however, does /not// fall into his trap of trying to make /him// talk, just smirking at him more. His guardian is a devious man, and it feels unfair. Leaving him at the mercy of all these... children.

Bill looks at him with a frown, "Dad said lots of people try really hard to get invited to that. Why were you?"

Charlie rolls his eyes, "He's Harry Potter, of course he was invited, Bill. He's /famous//."

Oh, Charlie is not one to fall to sarcasm like most children. He's a smart one. Granted, all the Weasleys are mindboggingly smart if they apply themselves, so that's not saying much. But Charlie is clearly one of the few wizards who is logical. Which is weird, since he runs off to live with dragons the moment he graduates.

Not a safe career.

Percy starts asking more questions, though it's more about what was done at the party than about who was there. Older Percy might be more interested in the who's who, but younger Percy is more curious about the party itself.

Harry manages to shrug off some of the questions, but he admits he does have a bit of fun describing some of the food, both the main courses and the buffet, and telling about the children he interacted with.

Bill and Charlie do not seem surprised about the behavior of Zachariah Smith. Apparently, he's not the only pureblood who has doubts about Harry's existence, though frankly, it sounds rather ridiculous.

He supposes, if he wants people to realize he's a real person, he shouldn't outright lie to them about his existance. But... /eh//.

He /is// glad when Molly calls them in for food, though.

He's sat between Severus and Ron, while his guardian has a very nervous Bill on his other side. Ginny is sitting in a highchair, staring at everyone with the solemness that three year olds have when faced with the unusual. She then shoves a bunch of jam in Fred's ear with a delighted giggle.

He supposes she's getting the twin back in advance.

Molly barely takes the time to sit down to eat herself. Instead, she is fluttering around, checking to make certain everyone has something on their plate or in their cup, and makes certain the twins behave (and scolds them when they try to slip something into Percy's cup). Most of all, she goes back and forth from checking on Ginny and making sure the fussy three year old gets something to eat, and making certain that Harry has something on his plate, while pointedly asking Severus if he feeds the boy at all (which, while meant well, is honestly something Harry thinks is rather rude.)

Severus can hold his own though, informing Molly calmly that Harry is a growing child, and growing magical children tend to metabolize their food at an almost insane rate. It seems to soothe Molly, if only a little, before she turns her attention back to the rest of her family.

Ron shovels food into his mouth, and ... wow, that's gross. The boy doesn't close it to chew. Oh man, an adult's perspective sure does something when dealing with children. Ron learned to eat properly when he got older, mostly due to Hermione. But right now, the boy has /no// manners.

He pokes Ron sharply in the side, and says, "Eat slower and with your mouth closed. The food isn't running away from you."

Ron flushes, especially when he sees Molly looking at him, and does just that. "S'rry," the boy mumbles after swallowing.

He pats Ron gently on the arm, "It's okay. As long as you eat with good manners from now on, it won't be a problem. At least you don't complain about me eating like Dudley did." Because that boy couldn't /stand// Harry even existing in the same room as a young child. Due to the encouragement of Vernon, mostly. May the man die of a heartattack and rot in hell.

He may have forgiven Dudley, but Vernon sure holds a special, vengeful, place in his heart.

"Who's Dudley?" Percy asks, and gets a warning look from Severus.

Harry just shrugs however. "My cousin." He replies, "He didn't like me. But that's okay, I live with Severus now."

Severus says nothing, but Harry can feel his magic warm up from the love he feels. Molly's magic feels warm too, as if she feels gratitude for the fact that someone is there to take good care of Harry. She seemed to have her doubts about Severus, but just the fact that Harry shows how he cares for Severus seems to be enough.

But then, to everyone, he is still only four (soon to be five). It does color the perspective a bit.

Ron asks, looking curious, "Is he nice?"

He nods, "He's the /best//."

Oh, Severus is certainly pleased about that. He can see how Bill and Charlie look skeptical, but the boys are smart enough not to say anything. But Harry doubts they've been singled out in class, so they likely only have the general 'horrible teacher' vibe from Severus. He knows other classes had /way// less trouble than his, unless it was one with Fred and George. The twins brought it on themselves, though. They took far too much joy in pranking, and Severus has a hate for it.

They finish food easily enough, and Ron looks genuinely confused at how he's only eaten two plates. Harry isn't. Now that the boy slowed down, his stomach said it was full in the same amount of time, while less was shoved into it.

Severus pushes him gently towards the boys, "You go play with them while I talk to Molly, Harry."

The twins practically drag Harry upstairs, because they want to show him some of their toys. Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron follow suit, probably wanting to show their own things. One thing at a time though, especially since the twins are clamoring the loudest.

It's not until they get up to the first floor however, that Harry feels something familiar in the form of Animagus magic, and he quietly bristles. Wormtail is here, which means one of the rooms is most likely Percy's.

"Hey Percy, where do you have your room?" He asks while the twins are rummaging through their own room to find what they deem their coolest toys to show Harry. Percy blinks in surprise and just shrugs towards the door. "Right over there, but I don't really have a lot to show."

"The twins like to steal it and hex it sometimes." Bill comments with a roll of his eyes and a 'what can you do' kind of shrug. A typical reaction to anything the twins do, Harry remembers.

"Could I see?" he asks, getting up, and walking out the door.

Percy looks excited, walking with him. He calms down a bit, saying, "I really don't have much." The boy pauses, and perks up, "But I have Scabbers!" He rushes in, and comes out with the rat, still in the cage. "He sleeps a lot, and he used to get out a lot, but since dad spelled the cage, he's stopped.

He frowns, putting on a bit of a show, staring at Peter. "Is he magic?"

Percy shrugs, while Charlie says, "We found him in the yard."

Grabbing Percy's hand over the cage handle, he pulls the boy along, "We need to show Severus."

"Why?"

Harry shakes his head, just hurrying to Severus. When they get to his guardian, the man gives him an unamused look, "Yes, Harry?"

He holds up the cage with Percy, the child still looking baffled, "This is a /man// pretending to be a rat. I don't think he's a good person, if he's in a boy's room, pretending to be a rat and pretending to be asleep."

Severus seems to freeze slightly at that, and then frowns, looking at Harry. "Is this like what happened at the ball, Harry? With the Skeeter woman?"

Harry nods firmly. "The magic feels human like."

Molly is watching with a worried and confused look, and by now, the rat is starting to flip out, scratching wildly inside its cage. Arthur's spell work is as strong as it ever was though, and when asked to hand it over, Percy gives the cage to Severus.

"It's alright, Percy." Severus then tells the boy. "You are not in trouble. But I need to take this rat to a place, where he can't run away when I disenchant him." He looks sternly at Harry. "Harry, I need you to stay here for now. I promise I won't be long. Is that alright?"

It isn't, but Harry can understand what Severus is thinking. That if he is who Severus thinks he is (and who Harry /knows// he is), then they need to make certain Pettigrew doesn't escape.

His magic flexes slightly as he tests it, checking how powerful he is. Severus gives him a sharp look, "Harry, I can take care of it."

He shakes his head, "No, Severus. He feels.... he feels..." He pauses, looking at Severus, and then others around them, finally just touching Severus's left forearm, right where the dark mark is, the magic dangerous and disgusting, even through it's dormancy. When he gets his wand, he will remove it. He knows he needs one to pull out that filthy mess.

Even if he fears he may be... attuned to the Elder wand, not his holly and phoenix. Albus pretends he isn't magically weakened with the wand, but Harry can feel it call him when the man shows up. Feel how it wants to come to his hand, to expand his magic all the more.

It's a dangerous line of thinking, and he shoves it away.

Severus's face tightens, looking down at Pettigrew. "I will have Albus with me, Harry. And we will check him very thoughly."

He knows he shouldn't, but he has to, he can't let the man escape. Not again. And can't let his Godfather /rot// in Azkaban. He doesn't know if he wants to leave the care of Severus, but leaving Sirius  in that horrendous place is not what he wants at all.

So he lets his eyes glow, just slightly, knowing Severus can feel his magic, "He feels /bad// and familiar, Severus." He looks at his guardian, "Please, make him tell the truth."

Severus looks at him, weighing his words as the rat squeals and squeaks in the cage and the Weasleys all murmur and chatter around them. But Harry can't pay attention to what once was his family before, since Severus is his family /now//, and he must make the man understand how serious this is. He can't let the man he thinks of as sort of another father allow previous hate cloud his judgement.

Finally Severus makes up his mind, nodding solemly. "He will not be able to lie, Harry. We will make him tell us everything he knows."

Harry relaxes, the serious mood breaking with his relief. He smiles, touching his guardian's hand tightly, "Thank you, Severus."

The man does something he /never// does in public, and kisses his forehead - an act reserved for goodnights and being tucked in. "You have nothing to worry about, Harry. Now, be good for Mrs. Weasley. I will be back soon."

Taking a step back, Harry breathes in slow and careful, "Yes, Severus."

Severus smiles at him, and then he takes a bit of floo powder from his own pouch and throws it into the fireplace. "Headmaster's office." And then he goes through and is gone.

Oh Harry hopes they will be careful. But for now, he has the Weasley's to take care of. Percy is understandably a bit freaked out at what has just happened, even though Severus told him he wasn't in trouble. It's no surprise really, considering how Percy has always been careful with following the rules, even as a child.

Thankfully, Molly takes charge of breaking the silence first, deciding that they all need a good cup of hot chocolate on top of that terrible experience. She soon has everyone settled down, with Harry and Percy especially having the bigger mugs filled to the brim with the beverage, no doubt because they were right in the middle of it. Harry doesn't really object to it, partially because he has always liked how Molly takes care of everyone, and while he is an adult mind in a child's body, some things can still feel rather awful.

When he thinks about it, he hopes he never has the bad luck to run into a Dementor under any circumstances. But hopefully Severus and Albus will see to that this won't happen now. Remembering the death of his parents under the influence of a Dementor was bad enough, but remembering everything that since transpired? No bloody thank you.

The memory of Death touching him all over comes to the forefront of his mind, and he shudders before he can stop himself.

Percy wraps an arm around him, patting his side, looking scared and worried, "He... he was in my room all that time."

Harry takes a breath, and murmurs, "He won't be anymore." Since them knowing more than 'a man pretended to be a pet for years' is not something he wants to get into with children. Not with Molly looking over them with her sharp and mothering eyes.

The loss of her brothers hit her hard, and he sometimes suspects - but never dared to verify - that perhaps Molly lost a child before Bill. Something that shattered her in regards to her children, not just family. But some people just get more protective in regards to anything at all due to loss, and it isn't his place to ask.

Afterward, when everyone has finished their mugs, the twins decided that since the whole thing with their rooms had been interrupted before, they needed to get right back to it. Harry doesn't argue against it, since it will give him something to think about, and it's obvious that the twins are really eager to show off anything that they have.

It helps when it comes to spending time, and while he worries about what is going on with Pettigrew, it's also nice to spend time with Ron and his brothers, and actually get to really know Charlie and Bill. The Charlie Harry knew in the future preferred taking care of dragons, even if he had done his best to help during the war, and had been making his own efforts with the other Up and Coming Dark Lord. The Charlie of now is a pretty relaxed kid, Harry notes. And, as Harry finds out, he is also interested in dragons, as can be seen with the room he shares with Bill.

Charlie's side of the room has a poster with a Chinese Firedrake, and there are a couple of old books on the subject, which are most likely inherited from another family member, or bought second hand. There's also a couple of models carved from wood, which Charlie explains have been made by his grandfather, who apparently had also been a dragon enthusiast.

Harry rubs his hand along it, and the animation charms react to his inherent magic, making it snap at him lightly. He smiles at the various dragons and things. It's lovely, but Harry has a special place in his heart for the Hungarian Horntail.

And a fair amount of fear. Just like a Ukrainian Ironbelly, due to riding that.

He allows Ron to tug him to /his// room, which is in the beginning stage of changing from a nursery to an actual room. There are very small toys, and even a rattle. Ron flushes at the sight of it, but Harry just smiles, taking it from the boy's hand, shaking it gently with a fond look.

Ron relaxes slowly, realizing Harry won't mock him for it. The twins look like they want to, but don't dare when a guest is over, especially one who will not make fun of Ron for having 'baby' toys.

It reminds Harry of how beaten down Ron feels when it comes to his brothers in general, when he and Harry first met in the other past. He had so much to be compared to, and was at the same time very easily overlooked.

Well, no time like the present to make certain that gets changed in some way, Harry decides. He is not going to just let Ron just be known as 'Harry Potter's number one sidekick' which was a constant source of irritation for both of them, to be honest. He has already changed a lot for Hermione, and doesn't see a reason why it should be different for Ron.

The problem is figuring out /how//. He knows that he will likely end up as a step-parent of another toy for Ron, but other than that?

He isn't sure.

Eventually, they're called down to the kitchen, and Severus is sitting at the table, looking... blank.

Harry immediately rushes to the man, hugging him as tightly as he can, "What happened?"

Severus holds him close, tugging him into his lap. Severus says, voice suspiciously steady, "You were correct in your suspicions, Harry. It was a very bad man." Severus looks over at Percy, and then back to Molly, "The good news is that he was /never// after your children. Not in /any// way, Molly."

Molly loses a great deal of tension and fear in her position, looking so relieved it's painful. "Why was he here?" she asks in a small voice that he can barely believe comes from such a strong witch.

Severus says, "He wanted a magical family so he could find out information. The fact that Arthur was in the Ministery, and so /very// well liked, was a large draw. Albus is taking care of it." Severus looks at Harry, saying, "We need to go home now."

Molly fusses a bit, because that's what Molly does, especially when she doesn't know the entire story. But Severus tells her that Arthur has been informed of what has happened, and he will tell her everything when he comes home. And while Molly does not like that, she accepts it and watches as Severus picks up Harry, and once again borrows the fireplace to floo them home.

Albus is waiting for them, looking very grave and very tired. Harry can understand why, considering all that has happened, though he has been wondering about some of the things going on with Pettigrew's betrayal. Did Albus know about the change of secret keeper, and then still believe Sirius to be a traitor? Or had something else happened, which in return had affected how Sirius had never gotten a trial?

Whatever the case, that would be changed now, or Harry hopes so at least. For now however, as soon as Severus sets him down on the floor, he trots over and hugs Albus, who gladly returns the gesture, as a source of comfort for the both of them.

He listens patiently as they sit on the couch, and Albus talks to him about how his parents were betrayed, and the rat was Pettigrew. He's given more information by a shaken Severus about how he has a godfather in Azkaban, and he can't help but be impressed. Severus cares enough about him to just be... impartial about Sirius.

Granted, he can see a look the two men share, and he thinks that Albus likely said that spending time in Azkaban is enough for attempted murder, especially since the man was thrown in there for something he didn't actually do.

Albus explains to him something that, as a muggleborn, is utterly horrifying.

The wizarding world, if the evidence in front of them is considered so obvious and damning, just toss in the guilty party without a trial. They don't /check// if the person is actually guilty, they don't ask questions, they just toss them in and essentially dust off their hands saying, 'Well, that's a job well done,' and wander off for a butterbeer.

Harry recalls the story, of how Pettigrew screamed at Sirius, demanding of /him// of why he had betrayed James and Lily. No one had stopped to think why he had shouted those words. They only heard the other man's condemning words, and that had been enough for them. Just like how Draco had screwed things up in another time with Buckbeak, where he had been in the wrong by insulting a Hippogryph, but no one cared because Buckbeak couldn't defend himself and Lucius Malfoy had enough money and power to make the right people not care.

Justice in the wizarding world is so fucked up.

"Am I going to meet my godfather?" Harry asks, and watches the two men carefully. Albus gives Severus a look, but Severus just looks... tired. Like he has sensed a coming fight, but has given up before it has even begun.

"Not right away, Harry." Albus finally replies. "First, there are the legal procedures taking place now, in order to get Sirius out of Azkaban. They will be over quickly, with the evidence we have now. But then Sirius has to stay at St. Mungo's for a while. He will need help to recover from the effects of the Dementors." He sighs, gently reaching out and brushing Harry  through his hair. "After that, we will see." He finishes. "But I am certain you will meet him at some point. Just not right away."

It's fair enough, Harry thinks, especially concerning the Dementors. And there are other things to consider, such as finding out if Sirius would even be able to take care of a child, if the question came up. But even if he was, and Harry doubts that he is, Harry knows where he wants to stay.

He is /certain// that should he go live with Sirius, he'll be the one doing the raising. He'll end up in a pile of candy and rags, all while wishing he had Severus to save him.

Visiting Sirius is fine, but living with the man as a small child?

He can't imagine anything more horrifying.

--

Harry sips his juicebox, shoving his magic into it to make it refill when it's almost empty, then says, "So... he seems really unhealthy."

Severus is holding his other hand as they look in through the window at where Sirius is screaming at the walls in his observation room. "You have a knack for understatement."

He can faintly hear the man rambling about Pettigrew, even through silencing charms. "He does realize Pettigrew is in an animagus warded cell in Azkaban, right?"

Severus sighs, "I have no idea. This is the first time I've seen him, too."

Harry moves in closer, pressing gently up against Severus' leg while concentrating some of his magic to be assuring and comforting. He looks up at the Potions Master, before asking: "Do I have to stay with him, if he gets better?"

Severus looks down at him, his expression unreadable, before he brushes his fingers through Harry's hair in a comforting gesture. "Only if you want to, Harry." He says quietly, and to his credit, he doesn't freeze up when Harry hugs him.

"Good. I would rather stay with you." Harry mumbles into the older man's cloak. Severus' magic warms up at those words, and he returns the embrace, holding Harry close.

"I'm glad to know that, Harry," he says quietly.

In the observation room, a couple of healers have come in, lead by a witch who looks about the same age as McGonagall, and with the same amount of authority. She gets Sirius calmed down, and begins to talk to him about what they are going to do, in order to treat him. Sirius just sits on the bed, looking for all the world like a sulking child, who has just been told he has to finish his homework before he can do anything else.

He presses his juicebox into Severus's hand, and the man sighs, sipping a tiny bit before giving it back to him. The man well used to indulging him in casual displays of familial affection. And Harry likes being able to share food and drinks with family.

Sirus looks downright beligeriant, but suddenly perks up at something one of the nurses say.  The man settles down, doing several things at the nurses' directions. After a bit, the younger nurse walks to a door, and opens it to them. It's really weird, since in the window, the door is on the other side of the room. But Harry dismisses it, automatically reassigning it as if it is a television or something like that.

The nurse says, "You may come in now. He knows if he behaves, he'll be allowed more visitors."

Harry stares at her, "Is he safe to talk to?"

She nods, "Yes. He's on calming potions, and several other things. You'll be fine."

Harry stays close with Severus, who gives his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, before the two of them move into the room. They stop when they are about half a meter from the bed, where Sirius is watching them carefully. There is something dreadfully familiar about the way Sirius is looking at Harry, and despite sort of expecting it, Harry feels a bit of dread in the bottom of his stomach. Sirius looked at him like that, during the time when the Order was at Grimmauld Place.

"Hello Harry." Sirius starts, trying his best at giving a friendly smile. "My name is Sirius. I- I don't suppose they've told you about me? About who I am?"

Harry nods carefully. "They told me you are my Godfather," he replies. "And that you had been in prison." Merlin, this conversation has barely started and it already feels so weird and uncomfortable. But Severus standing next to him helps Harry a bit, because the older man is a very soothing presence. It doesn't help that Sirius' magic feels strangely feral, though Harry supposes it's another Dementor side effect.

Sirius grins at the statement about being Harry's godfather, and nods at the prison part. "That's right, they thought I had done something bad. But I'm out now, so that's okay." He suddenly looks up at Severus, and there is something in his magic that bristles when he properly recognizes the Potions Master.

"Hello to you too, Severus. You here because Dumbledore sent you?" There is something strangely gleeful in the other man's tone, something that Harry definitely does not like. Something that's trying to bait Severus.

Severus returns Sirius' look undisturbed. "I am here, Mr. Black, because I am escorting my ward." He says calmly. The look on Sirius' face is a mixture of surprise, shock and something third that is either anger or disgust, or perhaps both. Because of course, how dare his school rival be there to watch out for Harry, when Sirius hasn't been able to?

He can see the anger deepen as Harry moves even closer to Severus. Sirius says, "Why are /you// caring for him?"

Harry says quietly, "I wanted him to." He doesn't want to go into it in public. No matter the privacy spells, a hospital is very public.

"Why him? Why not Remus?"

Harry stares at Sirius for a long moment, and then shakes his head. He doesn't 'know' Remus is a werewolf here, but he also has only been told by Severus that Remus doesn't have a job. The man has certainly put aside his grudges.

Severus sighs, patting Harry's back lightly, "We decided on me for many reasons. We can get into it when you're healthier."

"I would rather hear about it now." Sirius almost growls. Severus however, only looks at him.

"If you want answers to your questions, you will have to ask Albus, if he feels that you are ready to handle them. Right now, you are in no state, mentally or otherwise, to hear or understand some things."

Sirius looks ready to very angrily object, because of course, why should he listen to Severus' warnings? But then he notices Harry, and Harry must be looking more frightened than he feels, because the other man seems to deflate and forces himself to settle down with a grumbled: "Fine."

"We will come visit again," Severus replies, his own voice as calm and civil as ever. "But only if the head nurse approves." It is a very subtle warning for Sirius to not behave like this again, especially around Harry. And while the dog-like part of Sirius' animagus magic is bristling, the former Azkaban prisoner just glowers at the Potions Master, before he and Harry bid Sirius goodbye and leave.

All in all, that could have gone better.

---

Harry is chopping up vegetables with Molly and Bill at the Weasley home when he hears a yell from outside. Molly sighs, saying, "Charlie better not break that broom. Muriel won't get him another."

Bill shrugs next to him, making practiced motions with the knife, clearly using this to practice things for potions. Harry can see the improvement of it already, but says nothing about that. Instead, he asks, "Muriel?" even if he knows who that is. Such an odious woman.

Bill makes a face, while Molly frowns, shaking her head. "My aunt. She is... strict."

Harry knows that's being incredibly polite. Muriel and Marge would have gotten along, had they known each other. However, Muriel is far less inclined to be kind, due to not liking how Molly married Arthur, and has a large family.

Honestly, the way people look down at others, either for lack of money, or their bloodline or appearance. It is something Harry is going to try and get out of at least some people's heads when he gets to Hogwarts. And one could argue, that he had already started with some of the magical children he already knew. Draco has certainly improved, thanks to Hermione.

But one bit at a time.

Ron already doesn't think all Slytherins are horrible. If only because he now thinks the Bill and Charlie whining about Severus was an overstatement about not wanting to learn potions. The boy even is kind of bitter and irritated at them about it, too. Ron /wants// to learn how to do potions, and Molly seems excited about that.

Molly then spent a very long time talking about how she wanted to be a potion mistress once, but then she had Bill, and the timing just never worked out. Harry gets the impression she doesn't regret a moment of it, especially since the more dangerous potions would have /destroyed// any pregnancy. And Molly without children is a depressed Molly, indeed.

Harry moves Bill's hand away from where he's holding the food, explaining that it should be more like a paw than fingers, when the door opens and Percy comes in, looking wide-eyed, "Mum! There's a man here!"

Molly looks amused, "Yes, yes, that's Remus, Percy. Bill, you remember Remus, don't you?"

Bill blinks in confusion, "... No?"

"Harry's dad's friend. Brown hair, a little... down on his luck?"

Bill looks at Harry, then glances over to the door, where Remus is standing behind Percy, looking amused. "...No."

Molly just shakes her head. "Ah well, he did not come by here often, so there is that. It doesn't matter, I'm sure you'll get the chance to know one another while he is here." She shoots Remus a stern warning look. Remus returns it with a tired smile of his own. He is no threat to the Weasleys, but even if he was, Molly would put him in his place with little trouble.

Harry just watches, having finished with his own vegetables, and when Remus looks at him, the smile becomes a bit warmer.

"Hello there. You must be Harry." He says kindly, but not in a patronising way. Remus has always been good at talking to children that way.

"Hello." Harry replies with a nod, "are you here to have dinner as well?"

Remus looks happy, "Yes. Nothing quite like one of Molly's homecooked meals."

Molly smiles, scooping up the veggies, and putting them in the stewpot. "That won't be for another few hours, but yes, Albus said he'd like you to meet him, Harry." She glances at Bill, "And since Bill /has// met him before, even if he doesn't remember, I thought you could catch up. He's a very talented man, our Remus. He is very good at Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Remus flushes, looking down, "Well, I specialize in creatures, mostly, but-"

"But are still better than what we constantly need to deal with at Hogwarts."

Bill perks up at that, "Really? Could you help me out with things I'm having trouble with? Harry is really good at potions, and he's been helping me a lot. He even stopped me cutting off the tip of my finger again."

Harry stares at the boy, "/Again//?"

Bill flushes slightly at Harry's expression. "Well, I'm fine right?" Harry just keeps staring at him, resisting the urge to groan, while Molly quietly rolls her eyes and shakes her head a bit.

"Go on, boys, I will finish up here." She says, ushering them all except for Percy out of the kitchen. "Percy, you can help me out a bit."

"Yes mother." Percy replies, letting himself be lead over to some herbs needed for the broth that is part of the menu.

Bill leads the way to some chairs, and offers one politely to Remus and then to Harry before sitting down himself, though he is looking a bit too excited to sit still. Harry can't really blame him though, knowing from experience how nice it is to learn from the right people.

And Remus is a /very good// teacher.

Harry stares silently at Remus, who smiles at him with real warmth in his expression. Harry is thinking about what to say when Bill says excitedly, "I was in third year and am going to be in fourth! This year's teacher was /terrible//!"

Remus blinks, "...How was he terrible?"

Bill makes a face, "He kept staring at the girls and made us only read from the book, while saying we couldn't use any spells at all."

Like a slightly better Umbridge, since he doubts that the teacher forced children to write with a quill using their own blood.

Remus looks like he doesn't know whether to laugh or something else, so he settles for a slight snort of amusement instead. "Well, I'm certain you know the story by now, of how the position is cursed. But I certainly hope he isn't returning?"

Bill shakes his head. "From what I heard, McGonagall caught him doing something. No one really knows what, but it got the schoolboard involved, so it must have been serious. Either way, it got him fired."

Harry resists the urge to grimace. The schoolboard getting involved is indeed a serious thing, and he really hopes nothing bad happened. But the trouble with curses, especially ones cast by a Dark wizard like Voldemort, is that you never know how they might react to you. Especially when you don't know anything about what it does, beyond "whoever takes this job is cursed while working at Hogwarts."

Remus looks worried himself, and Harry recalls what happened in the other timeline, and idly wonders if Remus forgetting his potion that evening with the Shrieking Shack had been influenced by the curse? Had the curse extended itself so that Severus had been delayed in getting the wolfsbane potion to Remus? Or had it all been an unlucky coincidence?

He is going to have to look into that curse. He is /pretty sure// that it was put in with the diadem. He'll take care of that as soon as he can.

... Huh.

What is Harry going to do during the school year? Is Severus going to come home every day, or is he going to go live in the school?

If it's the second option, all the better. He can fix that curse right quick while every other person is in classes. It really would solve a few problems, and he'll have an /excuse// to know where the hell everything is in advance.

Remus starts explaining about some creatures that should have been covered in third year, like Red Caps, and Harry frowns in thought.

This is something to bring up with Severus.

But for now, there is dinner and as is always the case with Molly's cooking, it almost rivals the amount of food to be found at Hogwarts. But with a big family to feed, along with guests, it's no surprise.

The older Weasley boys are happy to entertain, along with the twins, in-between meals, and it makes Harry feel like the air is filled with bubbles from all the joy there is to be felt. It's a good and happy evening, and it's just /good// to feel this way.

It would have been nice to have Severus there too, but the Potion Master has work to finish before the coming start of the school year, which involves longer brewing potions that not even a very capable four year old should be allowed to handle.

Remus sits next to him, and says quietly, "Harry?"

He glances over, "Yes?"

The man looks like he wants to run, but steels himself somehow, "I wanted to ask if you want to come with me to visit Sirius. He's been wanting to see you."

Harry takes a bite of roast, chewing it while staring at Remus. When he finally swallows, he says, "I don't know. He keeps harassing Severus, and I /love// Severus. He is my family, and Sirius is mean to him." Really, he doesn't think what he feels for Severus is love. It's more stubborn affection. The man is a good guardian, and Harry is sure that he /wil// grow to love the man as a parental figure.

Severus cares for him dearly, and would kill for him. Vow or no vow.

Remus watches him carefully, as if he is trying to be certain of something. But when Harry just stares back stubbornly, he eventually just nods and sighs, while absently poking at his own food. "He can't help it, I suppose. Sirius and Severus both have a history from school. A rather bad one."

Understatement of this century, Harry thinks drily, but he doesn't say anything out loud. Instead he makes a questioning noise, which only makes Remus more thoughtful.

"If I talk to Sirius first," he then says, "would you at least consider coming to visit? Sirius really cares for you, and I think having you visit would do him good."

Perhaps it would, or perhaps it could make things worse, a part of Harry thinks. He hasn't forgotten how Sirius sometimes treated him back in the other timeline, when he acted as if Harry was supposed to be like the younger, more mischievous James, which was all a part of the awful trauma he had suffered.

But here, he has a chance to get a bit better in a lot of ways. But he has to be willing to try for it first.

"I will think about it." Harry finally says, as sincerely as a child his age can muster. "But he has to be nice to Severus."

"I will do my best, to see to that he is." Remus says sincerely.

He believes Remus, since it is pretty clear the man wants to make things right somehow. Harry is pretty sure /he'd// do the same thing, had this somehow happened with Ron and Hermione. It's one of the reasons he's forgiving about it. Azkaban is horrible, and close friends are precious.

It's why he tries to be friends with everyone now, instead of just rushing off and getting himself into trouble. He /could// just escape, steal a wand, and do what he wants.

But... what kind of life is that?

Instead, he just focuses on eating, enjoying his time here, and letting Remus talk to him.

--

Harry holds Remus's hand as they walk to Sirius's hospital room. He's sucking on a lollipop as they walk, carefully ignoring anyone who watches them walk. When they get to the door, Remus drops to one knee, fixing Harry's robes and tousling his hair. Scowling at the man, he straightens his braid, fixing it. He /likes// it being long and controled, and doesn't appreciate Remus trying to make him look more like James as they visit a man who expects more out of Harry than is healthy.

Remus gives him an amused look, but stands up and guides him into the room. Sirius perks up, "Remus! Harry!" The man grins at him, "Want my jelly?"

Harry looks at the wobbling mass of geletin, and shakes his head. Holding up his lollipop, "I have a sweet."

"Suit yourself." Sirius chuckles, before he sets the jelly aside, making an excuse about saving it for later. Harry has a feeling, judging from some of the colors he sees with his magic, that it is laced with potions that are meant to help Sirius recover.

He is still so frightfully thin, Harry realizes, noting how the hospital clothes are hanging off of Sirius' shoulders. But Sirius does seem a bit more relaxed now, a bit happier, and not just because it's only Harry and Remus.

It's a start at least.

"What happened to your hair, kiddo?" Sirius asks at sudden. "I didn't get to ask last time. Did Sni-" He stops quickly when Remus gives him a look, then clears his throat. "Did something happen with one of Snape's potions?"

"No, Severus hasn't done anything to me. He loves me, and would never hurt me." Harry says sternly. "My hair is white because of magic, that's all."

"What kind of magic?" Sirius asks, looking genuinely curious.

Knowing better than to talk about what /actually// happened, he says, "Accidental magic. It just happened. No one is really sure why. Albus says that i'm still perfectly healthy."

Sirus blinks, "You call Professor Dumbledore Albus?"

Harry climbs into a chair carefully, and nods, "He's not my professor, so I am allowed to call him by name."

Sirius glances at Remus, who just shrugs. After a bit, Sirius asks, "Are you happy?"

He smiles, nodding. "I am. It's much better than the Dursley's."

He's given a horrified look by both Remus and Sirius. Remus sounding pained, "Why were you with... them?"

He shrugs, knowing he hasn't been told about it this time. Not really. "They were my mom's family."

Sirus scowls, "The most bigoted people i've dealt with, and I have my family to compare it to."

Harry can't see that, actually. He's pretty sure that the death eaters, if they had muggle family, wouldn't take in a muggle toddler. They'd just kill the child and compare it to getting rid of pests. But Sirus's brain is a little rattled from Azkaban, so he doesn't say anything to contest it.

Remus draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his expression looking pained and tired. "In any case, at least you are living somewhere better."

Sirius looks sorely tempted to argue about it, but Harry just smiles.

"Severus loves me. He buys me things." Even if Harry didn't necessarily need them. But he still felt very grateful when it came to his toy owl at home. "He has also taught me how to prepare for some potions," he adds which Remus smiles at for some reason, while Sirius gives him a weird look. "It's fun, and it's almost like cooking!"

"You cook?" Sirius asks, looking confused.

"Only when Severus watches now." Because no one wants a small child alone in the kitchen, working a stove. "He says it was very bad of Petunia to have made me cook without her watching."

Sirius stiffens, looking unhappy, and Remus is scowling at the floor. Sirius says, cautiously, "Are you happy? With Sni-Snape, I mean."

He nods, "I am. Severus is the very best." The man certainly is happy Harry can go off and do his own thing without getting into trouble. While Narcissa, Molly, and Agusta all check in at least every hour on him and their children. Severus doesn't bother with it, though. Part of it is the wards, but mostly since he knows Harry is smart enough not to do stupid things.

Sirius is frowning, but he also has a thoughtful look on his face. "Would you be sad if you had to live somewhere else?" He then asks carefully.

It's easy to guess where this is going, but Harry nods. "If I have to go back to the Dursleys, I will be." He says bluntly.

Sirius flinches a bit, but shakes his head. "I mean... would you hate it if you were to come and live with me? I mean..." He sighs. "Never mind."

He still thinks, if it comes down to it, if Sirius somehow gets custody of him, it will be /Harry// raising Sirius more than the other way around. He may be in a child's body, but he is an adult, sane, and not severely debilitated by years in a horrible prison full of soul sucking monsters.

As such, he ignores what Sirius is asking. The man has no ability to treat him the way he should be, and will very likely call him by his father's name more than he should. And not in a, 'I'm going through a list of names because I can't think of your's due to how upset I am,' sort of way. In a way that means the man genuinely thinks of him as James.

No thanks, not happening.

By now, Sirius has gotten into a sullen mood, and doesn't feel like having more company. Remus can tell, but he just tells Harry gently that Sirius has tired himself out. After an awkward, polite farewell, Harry makes a vague promise of coming to visit some other time, before he leaves with Remus.

When they get back to Spinner's End, Severus is in the kitchen working on late lunch. Remus is offered to stay, but he declines politely, saying he promised lunch with the Weasleys instead.

"Did the visit go well?" Severus asks Harry, when Remus has left. Harry sighs tiredly in response.

"It was okay. Sirius still isn't too well." He grimaces a bit. "He kept offering me his jelly, but I think there was medicine in it."

Severus snorts at that, before gently herding Harry over to the table for lunch. "He'll get better, it will just take time." He says.

Harry just smiles quietly to himself. He still has moments, where it is strange to see Severus being kinder than he was in Harry's other timeline, but it's also nice not to see Severus nursing a grudge against Sirius. For Harry's sake, he built his bridges and got over what happened in their youth.

Hopefully, Sirius will be able to do the same one day.

Severus places a sandwich in front of him, "Eat up."

He takes a bite with relish.

--

Harry sits patiently at the table with Neville sitting next to him. The boy fidgets a bit, "Happy birthday, Harry."

He smiles, "Happy birthday, Neville." He eyes the desserts on the table, "So I take it you asked for carrot cake?"

Neville flushes, nodding, "I like it a lot. You wanted the treacle tart?"

"It's my favorite," he admits. First true dessert he'd ever been allowed to eat, since he wasn't really able to get any for himself as a small child. Hogwarts also provided it pretty much every day, so he could eat as much as possible.

It's probably one of the few things that he thinks the elves can do a bit better than him. Granted, he /has// learned how to make it himself since then, and while there is always a certain satisfaction with his own cooking, the memory of first having something sweet without having to worry of his bullying cousin taking it from him by force, is rather pleasant.

The party is not too awkward, despite the mixed groups of families. Augusta Longbottom is hosting it, the Longbottom mansion leaving plenty of room for everyone. The adult Malfoys have so far kept a polite distance from the Weasleys, while the children are having more luck interacting.

Somehow, Hermione is a good influence when it comes to her adopted brother and the Weasleys. She keeps Draco from saying something to get them in trouble, and Draco helps her with some of the few wizarding etiquettes that she is still learning.

And it helps that the older Weasleys are keeping an eye on each other. While Bill and Charlie like to goof off and know about the animosity between the adult Weasleys and Malfoys, they keep the twins and Ron from causing any trouble. And while Percy is stiffly polite, he isn't being hostile either.

After all, it is Harry's birthday, and that (as Molly has firmly warned her boys) means /no fighting.//

It's pretty nice, really.

Making his way to Albus, he blinks as the man