jharad17 - Whelp

"Yes, Father."

"And if it doesn't work, and you wake up again tonight, what are you going to do?"

"Send a message to you," Harry whispered. There was a weird lump in his chest, and it made his eyes sting, too. "So you can help me."

"Exactly. I will always be here if you need help, Harry. I just wish you didn't have to go through these night terrors at all. Understand?"

Harry drew a shuddering breath. "Yes, Father."

"Good. Now close your eyes. I'll put my hand here. I want you to think of something pleasant, yet quiet, that can take up all your thoughts. Hm. Do you like to look at the sky, Harry?"

Harry nodded, feeling safe with the weight of Father's hand on his chest. He thought of the sky painting on the ceiling of his room at Spinner's End, and the clouds that trailed across it, making pictures sometimes. "And clouds," he murmured.

"Yes, and clouds. Now, keep a good picture in your mind of the clouds, and focus on your breathing. I'll breathe with you, just follow along. Breathe innnnn. Breathe ooouuuut. Innnnn. Good, now oooouuut." While Father spoke, Harry kept a picture of the ceiling of the other room in his mind, imagining clouds floating by and turning into bears, and ships and mountains. Father smoothed circles on his chest, one way with the breathing in, and reversed for the breathing out. His words were soft, almost like he was telling a story, and Harry relaxed further and further while the sound of 'In. Out," kept time with his breaths.

After some long while, when he was almost sure he was already asleep, Father's hand stilled on his chest. His voice sounded far away when he said, "Keep your mind on the clouds, Harry. Watch them carefully, and if anything comes into your dreams, just bring back your picture of the clouds."

A whisper touched against his forehead; Father's thin lips. "Love you, too, Daddy," Harry murmured, but he wasn't sure his words traveled any further than his own mouth.

When the red-eyed demon invaded his dreams this time, he pushed him – and the green light – up into the sky and covered them with clouds the shape of ducks and apples and dogs like Fang. It was hard, and it hurt his head, but when he woke, he was trembling and in a cold sweat, but not screaming.

He was so surprised he forgot to send the white message. But Father came anyway, and held him close until he could do the breathing again.

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! Mocha lattes for everyone! Next chapter should be out by the weekend.

*Chapter 27*: Chapter 27

Whelp -- Chapter 27

By jharad17

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

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The next few days passed without anything tragic or horrible happening to Harry or Draco, to the great surprise and relief of Severus, as well as Poppy, Albus and even, if she had been asked, Nelli.

By the end of the week, they had fallen into a routine of sorts, with the boys up soon after the crack of dawn, dressed and breakfasted while Severus hovered over his first cup of coffee, and then herded outside by Nelli and her assistants, for running around and loud play. Meanwhile, Severus worked on lesson plans for the upcoming year, and set up his classroom and store rooms. During lunch, the boys would describe to him in minute detail all the games they had played and the winner of each, as well as the conversations they'd had with various of the castle's denizens, including Sir Nicholas, the Bloody Baron, Peeves, and several of the more loquacious portraits. And afterwards, they were encouraged to engage in more quiet play, in Harry's room or the sitting room if necessary, while Severus attended staff meetings or prepared potions for the infirmary.

Dinner consisted of more tales of the antics of two seven-year-olds, and after that, there was time for reading and writing practice (for Harry) or a game of chess, and then showers, teeth brushing, story time, and bed. Though Severus was not the one chasing after them all day, he was still exhausted by evening's end, and marveled at the energy of House-elves. For one thing, he was unused to having so much . . . company and conversation, and the lack of solitude was sometimes rather distressing. One part of him hoped Molly Weasley was right when she said he would get used to it, and another part was almost dreading the idea that he, Severus Snape, would becomes accustomed to the inane chatter of young children.

By the weekend, Albus was no longer interested in accepting "no" for an answer when he asked for Harry and Draco to meet the rest of the staff, and so Severus relented, promising they would be present for Saturday lunch. He did, however, insist that they not be flung into the presence of all the staff at once. Small groups would be best. No more than two or three new faces. Gratified that Dumbledore acquiesced to this demand, he did not think to specify which staff he thought would be easiest for the boy to meet first. Thus Saturday at lunch found Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout seated at the table, along with Albus and Hagrid.

Harry, dressed in neat, green robes, stuttered to a halt just inside the doors to the Great Hall and stared. Draco, naturally more self assured, and doubtless used to dinner parties in which he had been introduced to numerous new adults, gave him a curious look before leading Harry by the hand to the table. Severus followed behind them and ushered them into seats at one end of the long table, as opposed to putting them in the middle of the group.

"Don't be scared, Harry," Draco whispered. "They're just teachers."

"Not scared," Harry protested, but the pallor of his skin and the wideness of his eyes suggested otherwise.

Draco shrugged and looked at Severus, who shook his head slightly. "Harry, Draco, this is Professor Flitwick, who teaches Charms." He gestured to the very short man directly to his left, who was sitting on a large cushion on a chair magically raised into the air, just like Harry's.

"Pleased to meet you," Flitwick squeaked in his high voice and beamed at the two boys.

"Pleased to meet you, Professor Flitwick," Draco said with a tiny nod, and after a moment's hesitation, Harry copied him, words, intonation and the nod.

"I recall your mother," Flitwick said and leaned practically onto the table so he could catch Harry's eye, where he sat between Severus and Draco. "Very talented in Charms, Lily was. One of my best students."

"My Mum?" Harry asked, scooting forward in his seat, curiosity overcoming his inherent wariness. "Really?"

Flitwick grinned and nodded. "You have her eyes, Mr. Potter. I hear you also have a certain talent for Charms."

Harry bit his lip. "I don't think so, sir."

"But I've heard you can send a Patronus message already? And wandless, too, I might add."

Harry leaned into Severus and looked up with worried eyes. "Father?"

"He's right, Harry. The white message you send when you need help is called a Patronus. It's not a spell just anyone can learn, especially when they're young." He curled his arm around Harry's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. "The professor is giving you a compliment."

Harry gave the diminutive man a half smile. "Oh, er, thank you, sir."

On his other side, Draco gaped at him. "A Patronus? Is that what the bright light was when the squid attacked us?"

"I guess so," Harry admitted, even as Severus said, "Yes."

"Wow. I mean, my Father's said that's a fifth year spell."

"Indeed," said Severus.

Harry just shrugged and poked at the food on his plate, and Severus noted his shrinking posture and hunched shoulders. The boy really hated having attention drawn to him. "Draco, why don't you tell the professor about your book of logic puzzles?"