Chapter 5
The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows over the narrow street outside Severus’ apartment. The heat of the day had started to dissipate, leaving the air thick with the scent of spices and the hum of evening traffic. Severus had taken the boys through the bustling market earlier, guiding them with quiet efficiency, offering quick lessons on Egyptian culture and etiquette. By the time they returned to the apartment, their heads were full of new knowledge, their attention still divided between the pressing reality of their situation and the overwhelming unfamiliarity of their new surroundings.
Severus, for his part, had retreated to his room as soon as they’d arrived, leaving the others to settle themselves. The apartment felt more cramped than before, the walls closing in with each passing moment. James sprawled on the couch, Sirius paced the small living room, and Peter buried his nose in a local newspaper, trying, but failing, to make sense of the strange script.
Then came a soft knock at the door.
The sound was familiar, yet unexpected. Severus looked up from the corner of his room, narrowing his eyes slightly, unsure whether to answer. He heard the door open, followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching the threshold.
Standing in the doorway was a small boy of about twelve, with dark, wide-set eyes and a mop of unruly black hair. He held a large plate covered with a cloth, the faint smell of freshly baked sweets wafting in the air. Severus stiffened slightly as he stepped forward to meet him.
Hassoona, his small neighbor, stood in the doorway, his head tilted slightly to the side in curiosity. The moment his eyes met Severus’; he smiled.
“My family sent me with sweets,” Hassoona said, lifting the plate slightly. “To welcome you back to Egypt.”
Severus blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Hassoona had lived downstairs for years, Severus helped him and his mother out by taking him to school or helping him study sometimes. He had always been quiet, preferring to keep to himself, but there was something kind in the boy’s gaze, something unfamiliar to Severus. He didn't know how they knew he came back from Britain, but he figured they had their ways, the neighbourhood was small and news travelled fast.
“Thank you,” Severus murmured, glancing down at the plate, his chest tightening slightly. The sweetness of the gesture made him feel an odd warmth, and for a moment, the bustling noise of the street seemed to fade into the background. He hesitated, then looked back at Hassoona. “Please, wait a moment.”
Without waiting for a response, Severus stepped back into the small kitchen and retrieved a jar of homemade jam from the shelf. The deep purple color of the figs inside glinted in the light as he carefully approached the boy again.
“For your family,” Severus said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s something I made.”
Hassoona’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting the exchange. “For my family?” he repeated, his voice soft with gratitude. He looked at the jar for a moment, then carefully took it from Severus with both hands, as if handling something precious.
“Yes,” Severus confirmed, though his gaze dropped slightly. “I… I wanted to thank you for the sweets.”
Hassoona smiled brightly, nodding quickly. “I will tell my mother! She will be happy, thank you.” The boy glanced back down the hall, then back at Severus. “You’re kind.”
Severus, feeling slightly flustered under the attention, gave a small nod. “It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Really.” He glanced back into the apartment, where the others were watching curiously, though they remained quiet for now.
Hassoona smiled again, holding the jar carefully in his hands. “Thank you, Severus. I will go now.”
Severus nodded as the boy turned to leave, his footsteps retreating down the hall. The door closed softly behind him, and for a moment, Severus stood there, watching the space where Hassoona had just been. A quiet sense of gratitude lingered in the air, mingling with the fading warmth of the setting sun.
When he returned to the room, the others were watching him closely, their curiosity barely concealed.
“Severus,” James began, his voice teasing but not unkind, “I didn’t know you had a soft side.”
Severus rolled his eyes, feeling his face warm in spite of himself. “I’m not a monster, James,” he muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You certainly don’t act like it most of the time.” There was a smirk on his face, but it lacked the usual bite of sarcasm. It was an odd shift, the teasing feeling a little less sharp, a little less uncomfortable.
Peter, ever eager to fill any silence, piped up, “Those sweets smelled good. Don’t suppose we could have some, huh?”
Severus glanced down at the plate in his hands. It was filled with small, golden pastries, lightly dusted with powdered sugar. His stomach grumbled softly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten properly in hours. He was about to respond, but before he could say anything, Hassoona’s words echoed in his mind.
You’re kind.
The thought made him pause. He wasn’t used to hearing such things about himself. He wasn’t sure he deserved them, not in the same way someone else might. But there was a shift, a small, subtle shift, as the moment unfolded in a way that was unexpectedly comforting.
Severus let out a quiet sigh, glancing up at the boys. “You can have some,” he said after a beat, his tone softer than before. He set the plate down on the table between them, and for once, the walls between them felt just a little lower.