Whelp

*Chapter 25*: Chapter 25

Whelp -- Chapter 25

By jharad17

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, blond and British. I'm not.

AN: An extra-long chapter for y'all, since I was mean and made you wait four whole days . . . although there was the matter of a cliffhanger to deal with in "Walk the Shadows," before I was hunted down and murderized. :-) To all my readers -- you're the absolute best, and I love every one of your reviews! Your ideas and questions and requests for clarification are always welcome.

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From last chapter:

"But please, try to behave yourselves today."

"We will!" they promised, and held themselves to it until well into the afternoon.

"Peeves!" Severus' shout echoed off the walls of the third floor corridor. A greave flew toward him and smacked into his chest. He snarled and lunged at the floating poltergeist, who was apparently as much of a bane to the existence of students now as he had been when Severus attended.

"Ha, ha! Got you, Snippy Snapey," Peeves cackled.

Pieces of a suit of armor littered the corridor, and Severus had to dart to the side to miss being hit by a flying visor. He caught his toe on a bit of cuisse and barely kept from sprawling face first across the floor. "Get out of here now, Peeves, or I swear, the Baron will be notified the moment I leave!"

Immediately sobering, the poltergeist flitted away through a nearby closed transom. A gasp came from several yards away, and as Severus grabbed at the wall to catch his fall, he shot a look at the open doorway. One blond head, and one covered by a dark mass of messy curls peeked around the frame, and both had worried eyes.

"Harry. Draco. Come here."

Red faced, both boys approached, but dragged their feet.

"Now!"

Harry raced to his side, immediately compliant, though his thin shoulders shook as he skidded to a halt. Draco was only a second slower. Severus reached out to steady the boy, but Harry brought up an arm to protect his head and ducked.

Severus swore silently. Instead of commenting, however, he pointed at the empty plinth where the suit of armor had once stood. "Explain."

Staring at his feet, Harry stepped back within arms' reach and held himself very stiffly, obviously embarrassed by his reaction. "I knocked it over, sir. M'sorry."

Surprised, Severus peered down at the boy. Harry had all the signs of guilt over the incident -- which Nelli had reported to him only moments ago -- and it would take but a few questions to get the real story directly from his lips, Severus estimated. But his patience had run thin today already, and he had a lot of work to do after the long staff meeting this morning. His tone, therefore, was sharper than he might have liked when he snapped, "Tell me the truth, Harry."

Harry only flinched again, hunching his shoulders.

Severus looked directly at Draco and lifted an eyebrow, inviting him to share his story, but the towheaded boy glanced away from him and otherwise ignored the situation.

Glancing up, Harry said again, "I knocked it over. It was my fault."

Gritting his teeth, Severus had to force himself to calmness. Although he was aware that Harry was stepping forward to spare his friend, he also knew the boy would be hurt by Draco's lack of the same, and he wanted to give Draco a chance to redeem himself. But Draco was not rising to the occasion, and Severus growled, "Were you playing near it? Running in the halls? How did it go over?"

"I . . ." Harry darted his own look at his friend, then back down to his shoes.

"And look at me when I am speaking to you."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir." He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and chewed on it. "I was running."

"Why?"

"I . . ." He glanced at the end of the corridor, where Severus had already found the remains of what Nelli had said was a rather large bag of compost, thrown at the boys by Peeves.

"Speak up, boy!"

Harry's head snapped back around. His eyes were wide and dilated. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I saw a . . . Draco said it's a ghost? Peeves, sir? And I ran, and I wasn't watching where I was going and I tripped and knocked down the soldier man."

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me?" Please speak up, Draco, Severus thought. Show Harry you are worthy to be his friend.

But only Harry moved, and then, just to shake his head. "No, sir."

He was going to need to be direct. "Draco?"

Draco jerked as if he'd been slapped, then brought his head up, eyes wide and innocent. "Uncle Sev?"

"Do you have anything to add?"

The boy gave Harry a quick glance and out of the corner of his eye, Harry shook his head, just a tiny bit, so little that if Severus had not been watching for it, he would not have noticed. "No, sir. But it was an accident."

"Very well, Draco. Harry, please go to your room. Now."

"Yes, sir." Watching his feet again, Harry took off at a half lope, half scuttle, and Severus sighed. His head ached. He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking he would likely not get a start on the infirmary potions today.

"Uncle Sev?"

Rage flared in him so strongly for an instant that he was sure that if he turned around, he would say many things he would come to regret, and he had already apologized as much as he was going to, to this child. Not looking at the boy, he said, "Draco, go back to our rooms. Do not even think of leaving."

"Yes, sir."

Severus heard the puzzlement in Draco's voice, and didn't care. "Go, I said!"

Draco jumped, and ran after his friend. Severus called up Nelli and told her to keep an eye on the boys, and that they were not to leave his quarters. Then he Reparo'd the armor and went directly to the Headmaster's office.

Once inside, having refused both tea and boiled sweets, he paced before Albus' desk. "This isn't working."

"What seems to be the matter, dear boy?"

"I am not cut out to be a father."

"We've discussed this before. I imagine we'll keep doing so until you feel more secure in your role. But where else would the boy go if you pushed him away?"

It was only one of the questions that plagued Severus right now. Another was, "Tell me, how do I keep from hurting him? I can not seem to keep from scaring him whenever I raise my voice. And I am not accustomed to being civil all the time."

Albus smiled benignly. "I wouldn't expect you to be. But I say again, you are Harry's only hope for safety."

"Albus, I--"

"I have not finished. Although you are the only one who can ward him from Voldemort's followers," Severus twitched at the casualness of Albus throwing out that name, "you are by no means solely responsible for taking care of him. You are not alone, my dear boy. I have taken the liberty of assigning two more House-elves to your quarters, to assist Nelli, and I have invited someone to come here who I believe can offer you some advice on parenting. They will be here tomorrow, to check in, and we will set up a good time for them to come and stay for a week or two."

"Oh?" Severus was relieved, for Nelli if not himself, about the additional House-elves; chasing after these two boys was simply too much for her to deal with alone, and she had become increasing frazzled. Almost as much as he. But he ran through a mental list of possible "mentors," and didn't like the options that presented themselves. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to object, although he really despised these kinds of manipulations. "And who might that be?"

"Why, Molly Weasley, naturally. She's a member of the Order, and obviously has a great deal of experience, as I'm sure you'll agree." Albus chuckled at Severus' expression. "Oh, now, don't worry. She has a son Harry and Draco's age, and she'll be bringing Ron along, too."

Severus closed his eyes. His headache had reached the thundering stage. "Ah. Perfect."

---

"Uncle Sev didn't say I couldn't be in our room," Draco said as he came in and sat on his bed. "He just said I had to stay in our quarters."

From the corner, where Harry crouched on his heels and waited to be punished, he tried to smile, but he was really scared. He'd lied to his father, and worse, Father knew it. Draco had been the one to knock over the armor, but Harry didn't want him to get sent back home, didn't want his friend to get hurt, so he'd stepped forward instead. But when he'd looked into Father's eyes, he'd known that Father could see into his mind.

Chewing his lip, he wondered if this time his father would hit him. Uncle Vernon hated lies, but seemed to like apologies, even for things that weren't Harry's fault. But it was hard to know what Father liked best.

"Come on," Draco said. "Let's have a game of chess." He dug his set out of his trunk and started to set it up.

Despite the heavy feeling in his gut, Harry climbed to his feet and went to Draco's bed. "Can we make 'em fight again?"

Draco nodded. "But let's try a game first, all right? Then they can fight, after."

"Okay." Harry followed his friend's lead in setting up the pieces and started encouraging them to do what he wanted. After a dozen moves, it was obvious Draco had the advantage, though Harry was doing better than the last time. Of course, this time he wasn't throwing his pieces away.

One of Draco's knights took a rook of Harry's and as the bits of rook were swept from the board, Draco said, "That was stupid, you know."

Harry scowled, both over his rook, and the words. "What was?"

"Telling your father it was you that knocked the armor over. Why'd you do it?"

"I didn't want you to get in trouble. I want you to stay here, and I didn't want him to send you away." Would Father send Harry away? Was a lie worse than a squid? Frowning at the board, Harry considered throwing another of his pieces into the path of Draco's knight, just to see them get crushed. But he sighed instead.

"Well, thanks." Draco smiled again. "He's certainly not going to send you away. He's your father. He can't."

Fat lot Draco knew. He'd already lost a Mum and Dad, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had wanted to be shut of him for a long time, and now they were. It was easy to be rid of people if you wanted to be.

---

It wasn't until after supper -- during which Father was almost silent, except for asking Harry to rest his dirty fork on the plate instead of the table -- that Harry was called into Father's study. The door closed behind Harry, leaving Draco in the sitting room with strict orders to, "Read something or sit still, your choice. But stay on the settee."

Father pointed to a chair by his desk and while Harry clambered into it, Father aimed his wand at the door and muttered a spell under his breath.

Harry shivered. His hands, though, were sweaty. The injured one ached, and he rubbed at it anxiously.

"Does you hand hurt?"

"No, sir."

"Why are you rubbing at it then?"

Harry hitched up one shoulder. "It aches a little."

"You don't consider that hurting?"

Gaze still on his hands, Harry frowned, surprised. "No, sir."

A sigh. "Harry, look at me." Biting his lip, he did so. Father was in his desk chair, his wand put away, and his forehead was wrinkled.

"Sorry, si -- er, Father."

"Thank you for remembering." Father's face was very still, even when he spoke, and his eyes looked tired. He didn't look angry, just . . . disappointed. Again.

"I'm sorry, Father."

Father was silent for a long time before he opened a drawer of his desk and took out a slender bottle that was wide at the bottom and narrow at the top. He uncorked it and handed it to Harry. "Drink that, please."

Harry held it tight, though the cool glass was slippery in his hand. He stared at the light pink liquid inside, then back up at Father. He had lied. Was he going to get a lesson in watching his tongue? In his hand, the bottle shook. He didn't want to drink it. He didn't want to be hurt again; after yesterday and the lake, his throat was just starting to feel better. Would the potion make him throw up or would it just burn? Would it make his insides twist together like writhing snakes?

But Father had said he wouldn't hurt him, hadn't he? He'd said so.

"Harry . . ."

The note of warning cracked his resolve. "Please, Father, I'm sorry! I won't lie again, I swear! I'm sorry, please don't make me drink it!"

Father's face crumpled and he covered his eyes with one hand. "Oh, Harry." He shook his head and then took back the little bottle. With Harry watching, he took a sip, like he had done back in Spinner's End, for the first few drinks Harry had been offered there. Holding out the bottle again, he said, "It's for pain. Please drink the potion."

Hands still shaking, Harry obeyed, holding his father's gaze the whole time. In seconds, the ache faded from his hand, and his side where the squid had bruised him. His chest still hurt, but that was just fear, Harry figured. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling stupid and ashamed. Of course Father wouldn't hurt him like that.

Father took back the empty bottle and set it on his desk. "Thank you, Harry. I know life is different here, and you aren't used to it, or used to me. But understand me. I will not hit you, nor will I ever give you anything to eat or drink to cause you pain. Nor will I deny you food or lock you in a cupboard. I will not chain you in the yard, and I will not send you away." He paused and moved as if he might try to grasp Harry's hand, but then rested his palm on the flat surface of his desk instead.

Harry nodded. "Yes, Father."

A flicker of something appeared in Father's eyes, gone swiftly, then, "I expect I'll need to tell you these things again and again. One day, I hope you will believe me."

Some of the tension leeched from Harry's chest. But he still didn't know how he would be punished.

Father watched him fidget, and though he was uncomfortable, Harry kept his gaze on Father's face. Another long few minutes passed in silence, with Harry worrying his lip. Finally, Father moved his hand, very slowly to cup Harry's cheek, and his thumb eased the lip out from between his teeth. Harry hung his head.

"I know you're expecting punishment for lying to me about who knocked over the suit of armor, but you have already been punished enough, by spending the afternoon in your room instead of being able to wander about freely."

Harry jerked his head up. "I have?"

"Yes." Father grimaced like he'd just smelled something a bit off. "Also, I want you to know that I understand why you took the blame for Draco. You were afraid of what would happen if he had to go home."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but then just gave a single nod. Father knew, there was no sense in making the lie worse.

"I admit," Father continued, "that I am glad you did not tell me that Draco was the one who bumped into the armor, for tattling on your friends is no way to keep them. You were loyal to your friend, and I have little problem with that, except when such loyalty is not reciprocated."

Harry frowned, not really understanding.

"You're not in trouble, Harry," Father said, watching his face. "I am not angry or disappointed in you."

Harry's frown deepened. "Father?"

"I am disappointed that Draco did not offer you the same measure of loyalty you showed him. Remember, Harry, what we discussed about the Malfoys."

The heaviness swelled anew in his chest. Father couldn't mean what he thought! "That we had to be wary, but Father, Draco's my friend."

"I know he is. But he will not always look out for your best interests. When his own interests are more important to him, like this afternoon, he will think of himself, not of you."

"No! He wouldn't do that!" But in a tiny back corner of his mind, he knew what Father meant, and he saw how Father would think Draco didn't care about him, because he hadn't admitted to the accident. But it wasn't like that. Just, Harry didn't want him to be hurt, not when he could help it.

Father shook his head, and there was an odd edge to his voice when he spoke again. "Your ideals of friendship are, I imagine, more absolute than other people's. You are still so trusting. Merlin knows how after all you've been through. I know you want to trust Draco. But Harry, please stay wary."

The expression on Father's face more than anything else made Harry pause before arguing again. He looked so sad. Even more than worries about Draco, seeing his father like that made his chest hurt. Harry slid off his chair and moved till he was flush against Father's legs. Harry patted him on the shoulder, like Father had done for him. "Don't be sad, Daddy," he whispered. "I'll be wary."

Eyes shining with moisture -- was he crying? -- Father opened his arms, and Harry let himself be enveloped in a hug. He closed his eyes when Father kissed his forehead and then rested his cheek on Harry's head. He didn't know what to think about Draco, but for now, he just took strength and safety from his father's arms.

---

That night, when Harry had nightmares, he managed a Silencing to keep Draco from waking. But he also sent a message of light to Father, who came quickly so Harry could cling to his neck and cry softly against his shoulder. While Father held Harry and rocked him, he whispered over and over than everything would be all right, and also how proud he was, that Harry had finally asked him for help.

In the morning, over breakfast, Father told them that they would have another boy to play with today. He and his mother were expected late morning.

"Another boy? Who, Father?"

"His name is Ron. He's your age. I expect you'll make him welcome."

"Yes, sir!"

Father smiled at Harry then glanced at Draco, who was scowling at his eggs. "Draco?"

"Chess only takes two players, Uncle Sev."

"Yes. But I have a set, too, so if you rotate a bit, or get a fourth player, you can have two games going."

With a huff of displeasure, Draco said, "All right, fine."

"We can visit Hagrid!"

Father held up a hand. "You will stay well away from the lake if you venture outside at all. And if you do go outside, Nelli or one of the other House-elves will be with you, and you will listen to their instructions. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" both boys said together.

---

Ron came through the Floo with his mother into the Headmaster's Office. Another boy came through right after them. They all had the same red hair, and Ron had freckles all over his arms and face. The second boy wasn't too much taller than Ron, but Ron had a few inches on Draco.

Harry sighed. They were all taller than him. He tried his best not to scowl, especially when he was introduced to Mrs. Weasley, and she charged at him with her arms wide, like she was trying to herd cats. "Harry, dear!"

Harry hid behind Father's leg, and was glad when Father let him.

"Severus Snape! What have you done to this child?" Her voice was lighter than Aunt Petunia's, and she didn't look as sour as Harry's aunt, but she was obviously mad about something. "He's skin and bones, and look how pale and fearful he is!"

Father crossed his arms over his chest -- and Harry wanted to do the same. "What have I done to my son? I have rescued him and prepared a home for him. Is that what you mean?" To the Headmaster, he said, "I assure you, Albus, that I do not require assistance of this nature."

"Now, Severus--"

"I refuse to be considered negligent from the outset. Let us get a few things straight, Madam," Father said, and turned to Mrs. Weasley again. "I have agreed to listen to your opinion on matters of child rearing, but under no circumstances will I tolerate interference in how I raise my son."

From where he peeked out from behind Father's leg, Harry could see Mrs. Weasley looking Father up and down. Her face had pinked, but not nearly like Uncle Vernon's could get. Then, suddenly, she smiled, and there was an almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "Of course, Severus. I do will do all I can to help."

Father took a step towards her, but Harry grabbed at his robes, not willing to let him go, and not wanting to have anyone fight over him, or about him, or anything. While Father glanced down at him and touched his shoulder in acknowledgement, Mrs. Weasley crouched in front of him. To his surprise, she was right at Harry's eye-level, and her smile was much warmer. Kind, really. He gave her a tentative smile in return.

"There's a good lad," she said, and didn't try to touch him again. Then she beckoned the other two boys forward. "Harry, these are two of my boys, Ron, my youngest," she gestured at the boy with all the freckles. "He's seven, like you. And this is Charlie. Charlie's a bit older than you, he's in Hogwarts already, on the Quidditch team, too--"

"Aww, Mum, don't go on," Charlie complained as his ear grew red and he ducked his head.

"Anyway, dear," and she ruffled Charlie's hair, "he'll be able to keep an eye on the three of you today, along with, Nelli was it?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Indeed. I believe she is waiting downstairs, if you boys want to go and play . . . ?"

Harry looked up at Father, whose mouth was still twisted with annoyance with Mrs. Weasley. But when he nodded, Harry grinned over at Draco, who had stayed near the door the whole time. "Come on, then! Draco, we can all go see Hagrid!" He raced to the stairs and led the other boys down.

Behind them, he heard Mrs. Weasley say, "Oh, let them go, Severus. They'll be fine."

TBC . . .

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Next chapter: Severus gets some much needed assistance, and a 4-pack of rambunctious kids takes on Hogwarts!