jharad17 - Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Harry nodded. "Yes, Father."

"And, do you promise to try and heed me?" Father shook his head a little when Harry gave him a confused look. "I know it will be hard, admitting you need help, and asking for it. But I just want you to try . Will you promise me that?"

With a tiny smile, Harry said, "Yes, Father." He could try. With that, he picked up his fork, and ate his breakfast, feeling a bit better about the day already.

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"The day went by fairly smoothly," Mrs. Weasley said to Father when they had gathered back in the dungeon late in the afternoon. She had sent her children through the Floo already, after making sure that Mr. Weasley was home to be with them.

Harry was tucked in against Father's legs, and didn't even flinch when Father patted his head, smoothing the hair that had gotten stuck up in all directions during the game of Snitch chasing they'd had after lessons. It had been a smooth day, Harry thought. No one had tried to grab him or hurt him, and he hadn't gotten yelled at even once. Ron hadn't laughed at him for not knowing his letters, and Ginny had called Treacle Tart "Very cute," though that was before Tree caught a field mouse and worried it before eating it almost whole. He'd gotten to play with the Baku again, and everything.

"Is that so," Father said in his low, cool voice.

"Yes." Mrs. Weasley smiled down at Harry, and Harry hid his face a little from her, but she didn't say anything about that. "Harry did some very good work today. Perhaps you can show your father later," she suggested.

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said from the folds of Father's robes.

She smiled again. "We had no running off today, which was also very good. And Harry was able to ask for help with his writing, when he was having trouble with dripping ink. I very much appreciated that you asked me, Harry. I was glad to be able to help you."

Harry felt his face burning and hid it again. But Father put some pressure on his shoulder. "What do you say?" Father asked.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. For helping me."

Father squeezed his shoulder again, the kind of squeeze that made Harry feel like he'd done something good, and he could not help but smile. Father thought he was good.

"You're very welcome, Harry. We'll be back tomorrow, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Good night."

"Good night, Harry dear. Severus." She nodded once and bustled over to the fireplace where she disappeared in a wash of green flame.

Father crouched down, so he was looking Harry eye to eye. "So," he said, and his mouth made that little quirk of a smile. Harry grinned back at him. "Tell me about what you learned today."

TBC . . .

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and/or reviews this story! You guys are da bomb! In less auspicious news, my health issues have gone head to head with my day job, and alas, the day job lost. Thus, I must seek new employment . . . and write when possible. Please forgive overly long pauses between chapters, if you would.

*Chapter 14*: Chapter 14

Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape

By jharad17

Chapter Fourteen

Previously:

Father crouched down, so he was looking Harry eye to eye. "So," he said, and his mouth made that little quirk of a smile. Harry grinned back at him. "Tell me about what you learned today."

Harry spent the next twenty minutes -- while washing up for dinner -- doing just that. Severus could not help but smile as his son excited described something called a Baku, and how he had learned from the creature all about three new "temp'rit region" plants, as well as how he had learned to write three new letters -- Z, Q, and W -- and how he had beat Ron in a maths quiz.

"Congratulations, Harry," he told the boy, and they sat down for their meal. "I'm glad you had a good day today."

"Me, too, Father. And Mrs. Weasley said I'm real good at maths for my age."

Severus nodded, and served out a piece of grilled chicken and a portion of vegetables and rice to his son. "I believe I said the same thing to you, a month ago."

Harry smiled shyly, but he ducked his head and his shoulders hunched as if he expected a blow.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus said, "I'm glad you're good at maths, Harry. Don't ever think I want you to do less than your best at anything. All right?"

"Yes, Father." Harry waited patiently -- as he always did -- for Severus to serve himself and take his first bite, before he picked up his own fork, speared a largish piece of chicken, and tore a bite off with his teeth. Harry's table manners had improved drastically since that first meal at table they had shared, just after Harry had been formally adopted, but he was still far behind his peers in basic utensil use. He had yet to learn to use a knife properly, for instance, and tended to fall back on a spoon when faced with loose, small foods like rice or peas.

Patience , Severus reminded himself. "Would you like me to cut up your chicken for you, Harry?"

"Er . . ." Harry looked critically at Severus' plate, and then at his own, seeming to discern the difference between how their chicken appeared, at once. "Yes, please, Father."

Severus nodded, moved the plate a bit closer to himself, and proceeded to carve the chicken breast into bite sized pieces. He slid the plate back toward his son.

"Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome." He took a bite of his own dinner, and watched as Harry shoved a bite of rice onto his fork with his fingers before bringing the fork to his mouth. Almost half the mouthful fell into his lap on the trip up. Suppressing a sigh, Severus ignored the falling rice; that was a skill that would come with time and improved dexterity. But he could address the boy's grip. "Harry, here . . . let me show you how to better hold your fork."

Harry looked up at him with surprise, but handed over the fork willingly enough. Over the next few minutes, Severus positioned his fingers around the handle properly -- "Like holding a quill, see?" -- and demonstrated how it made scooping up things such as rice a bit easier.

"Feels weird," Harry said at one point.

"It will, until you get used to it. Like doing anything new, for the first time."

Harry grinned at him, peering up through his fringe. '''Cept using a broom."

"Cheeky," Severus said in a mild tone, but he had to agree. The boy had taken to broom flying like a salamander to fire. "Yes, your broom was one thing you never really had to learn to use, isn't it. That's a real gift, Harry. Most people have to learn to fly, just like learning to write or read."

Harry positively beamed at the praise, and Severus vowed to call attention to his son's accomplishments more often. "D'you think I could really be a Seeker, Father? Like on the Slytherin House team?"

Severus chuckled. "You think you'll be sorted into my House, do you?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Slytherin's snakes, and I really like snakes."

"I've noticed," Severus said dryly.

"And I can talk to 'em and everything. So, I should be in Slytherin, shouldn't I, Father?"

"I would be pleased if you did," Severus admitted. "But I will be proud of you no matter what House you're sorted into." Even as he said it, he knew it was true, though he had not really considered the possibility that Harry would not be in Slytherin. Of course he would be.

"But I can be Seeker, right, Father?"

"If you are in Slytherin, and you make the team, and if you're the best one for the job, I don't see why not."

Harry frowned, then scratched his nose with his thumb, his fork still tucked between his fingers. "That's a lotta 'ifs'."

"Yes," Severus said with a smirk. "It is."