Hagrid wept some more, but one of his arms snaked around Harry's back, and the giant squeezed Harry close in a half hug. Though he knew Hagrid could squish him to death if he wanted to, 'cause he was really strong, this hug wasn't even hard enough to squeeze the breath out of him, and Harry kept patting his shoulder and telling him that everything was just fine.
After a few minutes, though, when Hagrid was down to just sniffles, Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. Her face wasn't so pasty now, but her eyes looked a little red. "I think it's time to go back to the castle, Harry. I had Ginny and the boys stay on the front steps to wait for us, when I saw you running down here, but I don't think they'll be patient much longer." She cast a look over her shoulder at the castle, as if wondering what mischief they'd gotten into without her constant scrutiny.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. He slipped down off the bed, and faced Hagrid. "Thanks for the tea, Hagrid."
"Yer welcome, Harry. See ye soon?"
"Yeah, okay. Oh! I a'most forgot. What does Tree eat, 'cause my father doesn't want her eating from my plate."
Hagrid stowed his handkerchief away after blowing his nose a final time. "Oh, any kind of meat, kneazles like that, rats and mice're good. Iffin ye let her roam the castle a bit, or spend time outside, she can catch 'er own feast of mice. Ye can give 'er milk, but water's fine for 'er, too."
"Great! Thanks, Hagrid!"
"Any time, Harry. And come see me, any time, too."
Harry nodded, and left with Mrs. Weasley. They were trudging back up the hill -- much slower than Harry would have gone, but Mrs. Weasley wasn't a "young thing" any more, so they had to "take it easy on her old bones" -- when she said, "It must have been . . . startling when I tried to take your hand, to show you a different writing technique."
Harry sucked in his breath and darted a look at her, but she wasn't yelling, still, and didn't look angry, so he decided to tell her the truth. "Yes, ma'am. I . . . that was when I 'membered what Aunt Petunia did."
"I understand," she said quietly. "And I'm glad you told me." She was silent for a few more paces, and then, as they reached the last steppe, said, "Does your . . . father know?"
Harry shook his head sharply. "I can't! I'm not s'posed to tell."
"Was that one of their rules? At your aunt and uncle's house?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "You know, of course, that your father has different rules than they did. That he wants to know if anything bad happens. Or if something startles you because of things they did."
It took Harry a bit longer to respond this time, but finally he nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We have diff'rent rules."
"And he cares for you a great deal," she pressed. "And wants to know if anything bothers you. As do I."
Harry peered at her some more, trying to decide if she meant it. He thought she probably did. He gave her a tiny smile. "Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Weasley smiled back. "Good. Let's see if I can wrangle the rest of the children together. I think we all need some outdoors running around time, though, don't you?"
Harry nodded with a grin. "Yes, ma'am!"
The next few minutes were spent with Mrs. Weasley dispelling some kind of spell that had made Ron's hair and skin green, and scolding the twins, who looked as innocent as Treacle could, with their twin wide eyes and upturned faces, while Ginny giggle behind her hands and Harry watched the whole thing bemusedly.
But then there was a game of tag, played with practice Snitches in gold and red and blue. As he jumped and ran and laughed along with the other children, Harry was able to put the horrible writing lesson and the memories of the Dursleys behind him, at least for a little while.
TBC . . .
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*Chapter 12*: Chapter 12
Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
By jharad17
Chapter Twelve
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, blond and British. I'm not.
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Previously:
But then there was a game of tag, played with practice Snitches in gold and red and blue. As he jumped and ran and laughed along with the other children, Harry was able to put the horrible writing lesson and the memories of the Dursleys behind him, at least for a little while.
Severus was waiting for them in the sitting room, and when the door to his quarters opened – by Molly; he had reset the Wards to allow her entry while she was tutoring Harry – he stood immediately so he was visible, not wanting a repeat of Harry's upset at lunch when he couldn't find his father. As at lunch, however, Harry flung himself at Severus and hugged his legs tightly. Severus patted his son's soft, dark hair then gently cupped the back of his head. He was glad to see the boy, too, and anxious to hear how his day had gone. Not that he would say that in front of Molly Weasley or her brood, of course.
Speaking of which . . . "This is not a playground!" he barked at the Weasley children, who were climbing on his furniture and caterwauling like monkeys.
Still clutching his legs, Harry shivered at his raised voice, and he winced inwardly. He should never forget the abuse his son had suffered through and the effect shouting could have on him. And yet, he did, constantly, much to his regret. Lowering his voice considerably, he soothed, "It's all right, Harry. I'm not angry with you."
The little boy's head nodded, but he shifted slightly, so that his head was now burrowed within Severus' robes, as if he were hiding. Severus was instantly concerned. Even as Molly was organizing her brood and getting them ready to Floo back home, he caught her eye.
"What happened?" he mouthed, not wanting Harry to be further upset by thinking he had done something wrong.
"Later," she mouthed back. Her face looked pinched with worry, and when she glanced at Harry, still hiding, she shook her head slightly. Aloud, she said, "After I've fed this lot, and gotten them settled, I'll Floocall you, all right? We can discuss plans for tomorrow." Back to mouthing, she continued, "Among other things."
Severus nodded, hugging his son against him, not sure why exactly he felt the need to reassure the boy, but he was acting so oddly. Still, the boy needed to use his manners, too, so he patted Harry's head once more and murmured, "Harry, the Weasleys are leaving. What do you say?"
With minimal movement, his son peeked at the matronly woman and his voice was soft as he said, "Thank you for coming, Mrs. Weasley."
She smiled cheerfully. "You're welcome, dear heart. Perhaps we will see you tomorrow."
Harry bit his lip, and Severus ached to pull it out from his teeth, but resisted. Then the boy's gaze flicked to the children, who had calmed down, mostly, and were milling about near the fireplace. "Bye, Ron'n Ginny. And Fred and George."
"See ya, Harry," Ron said, even as Ginny turned bright red and ducked her head.
"You're good at—"
"Snitch catching, Harry," the twins said in that odd way they had of finishing each other's sentences.
"Could be a—"
"Seeker someday!"
"All right," Molly said. "Go on with you. Fred and George first."
With a bit more encouragement, Molly got her boys through the Floo, and followed them with Ginny beside her, after wishing both Severus and Harry a good evening.
Once they were gone, Severus helped Harry disentangle himself from Severus' robes and legs, and they made their way to the bathroom to wash up. Harry's hands and face were a bit grubby with dirt and . . . dog fur? Severus had thought they were going to work indoors this afternoon, on reading and writing lessons. Perhaps something had changed. Harry was very quiet while they washed up, and when they went to their dining table, shrunk now from the expanded version they had used at lunchtime to accommodate all the extra people, the boy clung to his hand, seemingly reluctant to be parted even for that short a time.