kbinnz - Harry's New Home

"No, sir," Harry said quickly. "I'm fine."

"Harry, your leg!" Molly pointed to a rip in his trousers.

"I'm sorry," he said nervously, looking at Severus. "I can fix it, honest!"

"Harry, you're bleeding," Molly persisted.

"It's okay," Harry protested, but Severus already had his wand out and was casting a diagnostic charm.

"Mr Potter," he snapped a moment later. Harry flinched at the tone. "I believe I have indicated my intolerance for falsehoods?"

Harry gulped and nodded. "But it wasn't a real lie, sir. I just тАУ"

"Mr Potter," Snape leaned over to make eye contact, "is this one of the Dursleys' rules? No admitting when you are injured?"

Harry trembled as he gazed into his professor's angry eyes, but he was unable to look away. "YтАФyes, sir," he finally admitted.

"And what did I tell you about their rules?"

"To forget them." Harry's voice was very small and apologetic. The professor snorted.

"If you are injured or distressed in any way, I expect you to tell me about it," Snape said sternly. "I will consider failure to do so as not only a lie but also an example of your putting yourself in jeopardy. Do you understand?" he asked pointedly.

Harry unconsciously covered his bum. "Yes, sir."

"Then perhaps you would like to answer Mr Weasley's question again?"

Harry nodded hastily. "Yes, sir. Um, my wrist and my leg hurt, sir."

"Your wrist is strained. I will give you a potion when we return to Hogwarts. As for the cut on your leg тАУ"

"Leave that to me," Molly invited. She took Harry's hand and smiled at him encouragingly. "After seven accident-prone children, I'm practically a certified Healer."

She led Harry over to the living room couch. "I'm not as flexible or as slim as I used to be," she explained to Harry, "so rather than making me bend over to see your knee, why don't we both sit on the couch?" She sat down, had Harry sit next to her, then helped him swivel around so his back was against the armrest and his bent knees lay across her lap. She gently raised his trouser leg and tutted over the small cut.

Harry watched, amazed and delighted, as she gently scourgified the wound, removing all the blood, then magically sealed the laceration with a murmured spell, tracing the tip of her wand over his injury. "How's that, love?" she asked.

"Great!" he beamed. That would sure have come in handy plenty of times in the past!

Another spell and his trousers were cleaned and mended, and Harry was even more sold on magic than he had been. "That's brilliant, Mrs Weasley! Thank you!"

He started to get up, only to be gently pushed down. "Oh no, Harry. We're not done yet." Arthur grinned and nudged Severus.

At Harry's puzzled look, Molly explained, "In this house, if you get hurt, you have to sit still for a few minutes and let the healing spells take effect, and there's a rule that when you get hurt, you get cuddled. Is that all right?"

Harry blinked. Ron's mum was willing to give him a cuddle? But wasn't she only supposed to do that with her own kids? And wasn't he too old anyway?

She must have seen the indecision in his eyes, for Molly leaned over and whispered, "Don't tell him I told you, but Ron twisted his ankle two days before going to Hogwarts, and he didn't mind the cuddle."

Harry felt his heart start to beat faster. He was finally going to see what it felt like to get hugged by a mum! Of course, it was someone else's, not his own, but that was almost as good, especially since he was practically an honorary Weasley. "Well," he said carefully, "if it's a ruleтАж"

Molly grinned and held out her arms. A moment later, Harry was cuddled against her and she was rocking him, crooning in his ear.

Snape thought he might sick up at all the sentimentality, but an odd feeling of envy was also making itself felt deep in his chest. He could have done that. Not that he would have wanted to, but he could have.

Harry felt wrapped up in clouds of love. He hadn't known that it was so nice to be hugged like this. When he had hugged Snape, he had felt safe and warm, but this was different. This wasтАж softer.

After several minutes, he heard Professor Snape clear his throat, and he dutifully looked up. To his surprise, Molly's face was wet with tears as she smiled down at him. "You're such a good boy, Harry," she said, and she kissed him.

Harry decided that he might have to fall down the Burrow's stairs on a semi-regular basis.

As Harry got up and crossed over to join an impatient Snape, Molly let out an exclamation. "Oh! I nearly forgot!" She hurried over to a small cabinet and lifted out a flat box. "I have something for Harry."

Harry didn't move closer. "It's not my birthday, Mrs Weasley," he said, mystified.

She laughed. "I've been saving this for you for a very long time, Harry. We can count it as a birthday present you've just not picked up, okay?" She seated herself back on the couch and patted her lap. Obediently, Harry went over to her.

She pulled him onto her lap, so that his back was against her front, and she brought the box around to sit in his lap. "Close your eyes," she instructed.

Harry glanced at Professor Snape. Severus frowned and drew closer. Not that he didn't trust Molly Weasley, but he wasn't about to take chances either. He stopped about a foot away, his hand resting inconspicuously on his wand. "Go ahead." He nodded once.

Harry closed his eyes tight. Molly whispered a spell and took the lid off the box, holding it up so it was just beneath Harry's nose. "What do you smell, love?" she asked softly.

Harry sniffed. A fragrance rose to meet him and his heart lurched. Somehow, on a level too deep for conscious thought, he recognized the sweet, citrusy smell. His whole body tensed, and he dragged in another, deeper breath. His throat tightened. "Mummy," he whispered, tears beginning to seep from beneath his closed lids.

Snape froze. It couldn't be.

Molly's brimming eyes met his, and she lowered the box enough for him to see. A sweater, carefully folded, lay in the box. "Open your eyes, Harry, love," she whispered. "This belonged to your mummy. I've been keeping it for you."

Harry reached out a single finger and with gentleness approaching reverence, lightly brushed the blue wool. "How - how did you get it?" he asked, his voice thick with tears.

"Your parents were in the Order with us," she began.

"What's the Order?" Harry interrupted, glancing up from where he had been staring at the sweater as if it were a holy icon.

Molly caught Severus' headshake. "It wasтАж a group that we were all in, Harry. Your parents, Severus, Arthur and I тАУ we were all members. And your mum and I were friends. We were both pregnant at the same time тАУ although I was a few months farther along than she was тАУ and before your parents went into тАУ" she broke off abruptly. "Before your parents went away, she would often come over to the Burrow. On one of her last visits, she left her sweater behind. I was planning to give it back to her, but I never got the chance. When I heard that she had died, but you had survived, I put the sweater away with a stasis spell so that you would have it when you were older."

Harry choked back a sob. Somehow, being able to smell his mother тАУ a scent that he had completely forgotten at a conscious level тАУ suddenly made him miss her a thousand times more. It was as if she had just stepped away and could come back any second, except he knew she never would. It made it infinitely worse and immeasurably better, all at once. It was as if she were there in some way, but not in the way he wanted. But it made her real, in a way she hadn't been to him, not since he was a baby. For the first time in a very very long time, Harry Potter desperately wanted his mother. "Mum!" he gasped out, and then he had twisted around and buried his head into Molly's chest, letting the tears come.