kbinnz - Harry's New Home

Harry blinked. "No," he answered honestly. As awful as the Dursleys had been, they hadn't been that depraved. Swats and smacks and beltings, insults and neglect and expressions of disgust тАУ all that had come his way, but his relatives hadn't been sadistic. They had had an unwelcome, freakishly dangerous child forced upon them, and they had made sure he was aware of that fact every moment of his life, but they hadn't hurt him just for the sake of hurting him. "Mostly, they were just mean тАУ you know, with what they said and what they called me and how they looked at me тАУ but even when they hit me, it was usually just with their hand." Of course, Uncle Vernon's hand hurt rather a lot, as did Aunt Petunia's, but it was clear that they didn't really want to touch him. "I got the hairbrush or the belt sometimes, but usually they'd just yell and smack me. It was more that I never knew when it would happen than that it was all that bad. Usually," he amended, remembering those times when it really had been pretty awful. "It's not like they broke bones or burned me or drowned me or anything," he added, mildly indignant.

Snape let out a snort that was half-relief that the Muggles' distaste for magic had led them to be more neglectful towards the boy than abusive, and half-irritation that they could be so arrogant and insular in their thinking. Stupid Muggles! "All right, then come along."

But the boy still hesitated, watching the licking flames with dread.

Snape exhaled in frustration and snatched the boy up in his arms. Startled, Harry instinctively wrapped himself around the professor's body, and as Snape marched steadily towards the fire, he gasped in fear and buried his face in the man's neck.

TBCтАж

*Chapter 7*: Chapter 7

Snape exhaled in frustration and snatched the boy up in his arms. Startled, Harry instinctively wrapped himself around the professor's body, and as Snape marched steadily towards the fire, he gasped in fear and buried his face in the man's neck.

Harry heard the professor snap out, "The Burrow", but the rush of heat that he expected never came. Instead, there was a weird rushing noise and then suddenly the professor was walking forward again, then halting. Harry cautiously peeked out and saw two redheaded adults staring at him, expressions of utter shock on their faces.

Encouraged, Harry straightened up and saw that they were now in a cozy living room, with magical toys and books scattered throughout the room, along with a multitude of family pictures. "Wicked!" he grinned. "That was amazing, Pr'fessor!"

Snape cleared his throat. What in Merlin's name was the boy still doing in his arms? He'd run out of patience at the boy's dithering тАУ understandable though it might be to someone who was so new to the Wizarding World тАУ and had snatched him up so that they might make it to the Weasleys sometime before Voldemort rose again. It hadn't been out of a desire to protect or reassure the brat, but simply that the boy was still small enough to be bodily picked up and forced into compliance. When Potter had clung to him like a bloody primate, he had been too nonplused to remonstrate with him. Besides, it had prevented the brat from inhaling soot and then sicking up all over Snape's clean robes.

Their arrival at the Burrow had created quite a stir. Snape would treasure forever the look on Molly Weasley's face as he materialized through the fire with the Potter brat snuggled into his arms like some infant.

Arthur recovered first. "W-welcome to the Burrow, Severus, Harry," he said, only a faint tremor in his voice revealing his astonishment at the sight in front of him.

Snape would have liked to have sneered, but realizing he was acting in the capacity as a role model, he forced himself to reply civilly. "Thank you, Arthur. We appreciate your kind invitation. Harry," he prompted sharply. Why isn't he standing on his own two feet? "Say hello to the Weasleys."

"H'lo, sir, ma'am," Harry said shyly. He knew perfectly well that he was behaving like a toddler. Any self-respecting eleven year old would have scrambled out of the professor's arms at the first opportunity, mortified at being treated like a small child. But Harry had never been treated like a small child, even when he was one, and he found he really rather liked the sensation of security provided by being carried in an adult's arms. What's more, he knew that once the Weasleys had a chance to talk to Professor Snape, they'd make it clear that eleven year olds were much too old for such coddling, so he figured this was his one and only opportunity to get treated like this. Besides, there were no other children around to witness his embarrassing regression, so to hell with it. He was staying put until Snape pried his fingers from around his neck.

Severus tried to put the boy down, but the little brat merely tightened his grip around his neck and clung harder with his legs. "Potter," he hissed in the brat's ear. "Get down."

To his intense irritation, the boy gave him a sidelong glance, then ignored him entirely. What on Earth had gotten into the brat? He'd not shown signs of intense shyness before, but then it wasn't as if Snape knew him that well either.

"Er, shall we sit down?" Molly suggested, as the seconds dragged on and it became clear to the adults that Harry wasn't going to get down voluntarily.

"Why don't you take this chair? It's the most comfortable one," Arthur invited, indicating the lumpy armchair that Snape recalled all too well from his previous visit.

"Thank you," Snape managed to get out from between gritted teeth. He sank into the chair, managing to maneuver the boy so that he was sitting in Snape's lap. A Potter! Sitting in his lap! HIS LAP! Snape would never live this down.

Harry beamed, leaning back against the professor's broad chest. He couldn't believe that Snape hadn't shoved him away. He'd never sat in anyone's lap before, not even the department store Santa's, since the Dursleys explained that Santa didn't bring gifts for little freaks. He squirmed, finding a comfortable spot тАУ the professor had rather bony knees тАУ and looked around with interest.

Arthur Weasley had gotten over his original surprise and was now trying hard to suppress his mirth. He knew Severus Snape mostly from his work as the Order's spy in the last war and as his sons' teacher. In neither incarnation had the man been anything other than menacing and grim. To see him now, awkwardly settling a child on his lapтАж Arthur wondered if the apocalypse were upon them.

Molly blinked and kept blinking. It just didn't make sense. The Severus Snape she knew тАУ or thought she knew, she admitted silently тАУ would have no patience for a clingy child. Molly would have expected Snape either to brush him off with a stinging slap or - at best - to put the boy in his place with a few vicious insults. Instead, he had tolerated the boy's blatant defiance (Molly had excellent hearing) and was even now rubbing the boy's back reassuringly.

Severus fidgeted nervously. He hated social evenings. He was terrible at them, not to mention wholly inexperienced. Dumbledore had forced him to attend a few "parent-teacher" social events early in his tenure, but after he had reduced several parents to tears with his cutting remarks about their children's scholastic prowess, upbringing, and likely career path, even Albus had given up. Snape was given special dispensation to avoid all events that were likely to bring him into direct contact with parents, and so his social calendar for the past decade had been largely confined to Death Eater meetings. Spying and socializing were a poor mix, and even his fellow Death Eaters had quickly learned not to invite him over for dinner.

As a result, he felt like a gauche teenager at these things. What was he supposed to do? Was it his role as guest to make conversation, or the Weasleys as his hosts? Once again, he envied Lucius Malfoy's effortless savoir faire. Say what you would about pureblood bigots, at least they all had exceptional manners. Not that they often chose to use them, but at least they could.