Severus leant his cheek alongside Harry's hair, which was as dark and thick as his own, and kissed his head gently. He opened the book to the next story, as they'd read several already, and started, "The Tale of The Wizard's Glove. Once upon a time . . ."
As predicted, Harry was asleep before they had made through the second story, but Severus wasn't too surprised, as the boy had had a trying day. He carried Harry to his bedroom and settled him into bed, smiling slightly when the kneazle followed at his heels and then jumped onto the bed, to curl into the curve of Harry's arm, half under and half on top of the blankets. Severus kissed the boy's forehead, and smoothed his hair back from the lightning bolt scar. "Sleep well," he whispered, letting his fingers linger on the pale cheek for a moment before he left to go make a firecall to the Weasley matriarch.
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Molly agreed to Floo through immediately, and speak to him in person, which was very good of her, considering how late in the evening it was.
"Can't get enough of me?" she asked with a grin as she settled her bulk in one of his armchairs.
Severus ordered up tea from the kitchens, and offered her some, which she accepted politely. "In a manner of speaking," he said quietly, not in the mood for her teasing.
Her smile vanished, even as she took a sip of her drink. "What happened? Is Harry all right?"
Trust her to see into the heart of the problem. With a small sigh, he told her what had transpired that day, and he even confessed his own horrible behavior, willing to fully abase himself before her, so she would know how dire the situation was, and would be less likely to deny him what he needed. What Harry needed.
She was quiet for a long moment, when he was done, and sipped thoughtfully at her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup. Finally, she nodded. "Well, that's a right mess, isn't it." It was not a question, and so Severus did not answer. "It's obvious the House-elves are nearly worthless. I should have listened to Charlie. He mentioned as much. Never held much truck with House-elves myself. Far too wishy-washy for my tastes."
Severus forbore to say anything about how helpful they were in the right circumstances, since that would not help his cause. Instead, he nodded. "You see my dilemma."
Molly smiled knowingly. "You need someone to take care of Harry while you're teaching classes. Someone who will care for him like their own child, who will watch out for him, and make sure he eats and doesn't find trouble, and who will clean up any scraped knees he has, or scrapes he gets into." She paused, finished off her tea, and gave him another smile. "Someone like me."
With a sigh, Severus swallowed his pride; he would do right by the boy, if it took everything he had. "Yes. Please."
"I would be glad to, Severus. I loved Lily and James, too."
Severus opened his mouth to tell her that this was his son, not James', and that she should love Harry on his own merits, like he did, but he closed it again with a snap. She would come to love the boy, too. She had plenty for her whole brood, didn't she? "Good," he said instead. "I spoke to Harry about the possibility earlier this evening. I know he . . . I mean, he is worried that my sending him to others for caretaking during the day means that I'm sending him away, and he is already insecure enough as it is. I was hoping . . . that is . . ."
"Spit it out, Severus. I'm not going anywhere."
He nodded, and said in a rush, "I would like you to be able to spend a few days here, maybe with your youngest boy, too, until Harry gets used to the idea."
She was quiet again, considering his request, and Severus hoped she would agree that it was best for Harry. Finally she said, "I have Ginny at home, too, and the twins. None of them can be left to their own devices all day long."
Of course. He'd forgotten. She had other responsibilities, just as he did. Slowly, he said, "You could, perhaps, bring the lot with you if you came. Just for a few days. I'm sure Albus would not mind. And it would give Harry an easier time of it, too, don't you think, if he met your other children here, where he is already accustomed to being?"
Her gaze sharpened. "And you would amenable to this? To having my 'lot' underfoot for several days?"
"If it will help Harry, yes."
She nodded thoughtfully. "You have changed, Severus Snape. And for the better, I can see." She smiled then, a mothering kind of smile, as if she were going to take Severus under her wing, as well as his son. "I'll talk it over with Arthur and let you know in the morning, all right? But one way or the other, I'll be here tomorrow for the little dear. That way you needn't worry about him."
Severus let out a sharp breath. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
"You'll be all right, dear heart. It just takes practice is all, being a father, and you've been thrown into the middle of a boiling cauldron." She nodded again, her gaze searching his face. "You know, Severus, all parents make mistakes. Even those of us with more practice than most. We just have to accept that they'll happen, learn what we can from them, and move on. You'll do all right."
He nodded, not quite believing her, but then she leaned forward and patted his hand. "I'll see you in the morning," she said, then hesitated briefly before she added, "I know you want Harry to forgive you for what happened today, but . . . try to forgive yourself, too."
He was still staring at the space she had occupied when she Floo'd home, still startled by her insight and her agreement to aid him.
It wasn't long before his reverie in front of the fire was interrupted by cries from Harry's bedroom, and he dashed off to help his son through another round of nightmares. As he held the boy, rocking him and murmuring softly into his hair that everything would be all right, that he would never leave him, he wished fervently that he knew better how to help the boy, and that he could be what Harry needed so desperately. He despaired at that moment, that perhaps he would never be adequate to the task, that he was not good enough or strong enough for his son.
But in the dead of night, as he finally got the boy back to sleep and went to seek his own bed, Molly's words came back to him, and he knew he had to take them to heart or he would never make it through another day as Harry's father.
Accept that mistakes would be made. Forgive himself.
Two of the hardest things in the world for him to do. And yet he would learn how, he had to. For Harry's sake.
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A/N: Thanks for all the enthusiastic reviews and encouragement for this story! Sorry this chapter is so delayed, but I was on a bit of a run with my story "Walk the Shadows" and needed to get over a particularly climactic portion before I could focus on anything else. I should have a new chapter of "Whelp" out in a couple of days. Harry Hugs for everyone!
*Chapter 8*: Chapter 8
Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
By jharad17
Chapter Eight
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, blond and British. I'm not.
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The next morning, Harry woke early, to the feel of Treacle Tart butting his hand with her head, begging for ear scritches, which he happily gave her. Her purrs made him feel all warm inside, and he petted her gently, and, as he rolled onto his back, pulled her onto his chest so he could look into her bright blue eyes while he scratched her head. She was so beautiful. And good.
They lay there for a few minutes, until nature's call forced Harry out of bed and into the bathroom. His ankle was much easier to walk on, now, and he had no trouble putting weight on it. The bathroom, though . . . he was still embarrassed about having to put his wet clothes on the floor yesterday, and remembering how Nelli had needed to help him in the shower made his face burn.