A Mother's Love.
The next morning Harry was awoken by a soft knock on his door, he groaned in frustration as he rolled out of bed to answer it.
He wasn’t surprised to see Callie waiting patiently on the other side, though he was surprised to see her holding a tray of food and drinks.
“Good morning Милый, I assume you slept well?” She asks politely, walking past Harry so she could set the tray down on his nightstand. Harry tilts his head, confused at the humorous tone of her question.
Callie smiles, amused by his confusion. She places her hands on his shoulders and leads him in front of a mirror, laughing when the realization finally hits him.
His hair was everywhere, and his face had line indents from how squished his face was into his pillow all night. He has drool running down his face and he embarrassingly uses his robe to clean it off before Callie can tease him anymore about it.
He hates that her previous question makes too much sense now. Bloody hell, someone please kill him now.
Callie watches their reflections with a glint in her that Harry has never seen before, though he felt it could only be compared to sadness. He tried to study it a bit longer but accidently made eye contact with her, causing the glint to disappear and be replaced with her usual happy glint.
“I’ll leave you to eat your breakfast” She pauses, hiding a smile behind her hand. “I apologize if it’s a bit much, Mipsy got a little too excited and made a feast”
Harry couldn’t help but smile as well, Mipsy was one of the sweetest house elves he ever met. (Other than Dobby of course)
“When you’re finished, I was hoping you would be okay with going shopping? I feel it may benefit you to have actual clothes.”
Harry nods in agreement, while the bath robe is comfortable it would feel nice to wear actual clothes that aren’t dirty.
“Yeah, that would be really nice thank you!”
Callie nods, shutting the door behind her and leaving Harry by himself again.
He turns to study the tray of food and feels tears sting at his eyes. This was the first time in a while that someone cared enough to make him food, especially a full breakfast. He mentally reminded himself to thank her when he gets the chance.
In the middle of the tray is a plate of about three blueberry pancakes, covered in syrup with a square piece of butter on top. To the right was another plate, but instead of pancakes there’s four eggs cooked to be sunny side up as well as two strips of bacon. They’re all covered with small flakes that he could tell were seasonings just not what kind.
To the left is a small bowl filled with fruits, he could make out strawberries, blueberries, watermelon, apples, and lastly grapes. Then finally there is a clear cup of orange juice, topped with a orange slice wedged onto the cup’s rim.
A healthy breakfast.
Harry sighs and sits down on the bed, but not before gabbing the plate of pancakes along with a fork & knife. Yes, he plans to eat everything, even if he has to force it down. He doesn’t know how long this will last and he needs to be prepared to not eat for days if he can’t afford to.
At least the food tastes good.
It took Harry almost thirty minutes to eat everything, yes everything. Though he mostly regrets it, he felt like his stomach was about to fucking explode. He lays down on the bed, closing his eyes and allowing his body to go limp. That was his way of dealing with pain and for some reason it helped.
He lays there for what feels like ten minutes, although he’s not really the best at keeping track of time. He always trusted Hermione to keep track.
He only allows himself to sit up when the pain in his stomach finally relents, instead becoming nothing but a dull hum.
A pop interrupts the comfortable silence and he glances up to see Mipsy waiting patiently at the foot of his bed. “Hello, Mipsy. How are you?” he asks, adding a little wave at the end.
Mipsy seems happy at his greetings, a wide smile taking form on her face. “Good Morning Lord Harrison! Mipsy is well!” Her eyes widen at the sight of the empty tray, before letting out a high pitch squeal. “Oh Lord Harrison must be a blessing from Lady Моргана herself! Mipsy is so honored!”
Harry flinches and covers his ears at the piercing noise, though a bit too late.
“Uh..Mipsy? What time is it?” he asks, still not quite sure.
Mipsy snaps her fingers and the bulky tray disappears, leaving a clean organized bedside table behind.
“It is 9Am Lord Harrison!” Huh. It feels a lot later than that.
Mipsy watches him for a moment, fidgeting with her hands as she finally speaks.
“Would..Lord Harrison like Mipsy to run him a bubble bath?”
It takes Harry almost a whole minute to finally realize why she was so nervous to ask about a bath.
She’s waiting for him to ask things of her, she wants to feel useful.
His heart hurts at the realization and his eyes soften as he leans forward, “That would be quite lovely Mipsy. May I request extra bubbles?”
Mipsy’s eyes sparkle in happiness and she lets out a happy squeal as she disappears.
Harry sighs and leans back, Mipsy reminds of Dobby in so many ways but at the same time is so….different from him.
Dobby was a stuttering mess that was somehow so so brave, and Mipsy is a sweetheart who is a bit hesitant. How the hell are they so similar yet so different?
Maybe it was just the grief tricking him. Trying to convince him that Dobby was still here through Mipsy.
“Lord Harrison, your bath is ready!”
Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let the grief win for a little while.
Harry carefully steps out of the bath, wrapping a white fluffy towel around his waist. He wipes the condensation off the mirror before trying to fix his wild hair. Hermione and Ginny used to complain about it constantly, he remembers one time when they tried to cut it in the 2nd floor girl’s bathroom.
It didn’t go well. His hair had immediately grown out again, which caused the girls to be even more upset over it. (It got annoying pretty quick, he just wanted them to stop)
Luckily it seemed like his hair was a bit more calm here, he was able to get rid of most of the knots and make his hair look presentable. So far his day was going pretty good. (He hopes it stays that way.)
He pauses to stare at himself in the mirror, his chest feeling empty at how young he looks. He finally remembers Death’s words, ‘just live a new life. I Don’t care.’
This was his chance to have a new life, to have the childhood he always wanted.
Everything was finally starting to become real to him. The realization that this wasn’t a fucking dream, this was real. He was actually getting a good childhood, something he wished for his entire life.
Tears gathered in his eyes, and his breath quickened. He didn’t know why he was crying, maybe it was from the overwhelming feeling of happiness or was it relief? Relief that he didn’t have to be the ‘Boy Who Lived’ or ‘The Chosen One’ or even ‘Harry Potter’
No.
He was Harrison Evans.
A normal wizard boy.
It felt like the universe finally listened to his pleas.
It took 17 years but the universe finally fucking listened.
His soft cries turned to sobs, hysterical happy sobs.
“Lord Harrison? Is you okay?”
Harry gasps in shock as he turns around to face Mipsy, who is watching him with concern while fidgeting with her hands.
Harry smiles, wiping his tears away. “I’m fine Mipsy, great even.”
Mipsy studies his face, clearly not believing his words. “Does you promise?”
Harry’s heart hurts at the slight grammar mistake, and he lowers himself to her level. Staring into her wide eyes, full of fear and uncertainty. “I promise.”
Tears well up in Mipsy’s eyes and her voice is shaky. “You are smart boy, Lord Harrison. Mipsy has never seen it before. You are special. Mipsy is honored to serve you, even for a little while.”
“Thank you Mipsy. Thank you so so much.” He whispers, leaning his forehead to rest on hers, closing his eyes.
He feels something tug at his heart, though it doesn’t feel physical, more spiritual or magical.
He opens his eyes and leans back, smiling warmly at Mipsy.
She sniffles, a smile now on her face. “Would Lord Harrison like his clothes now? Mipsy cleaned them herself!”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden change of emotion, “That would be great Mipsy. Thank you.”
She disappears for a moment, before returning with the clothes he wore the day before. Though they no longer had ash, blood and sweat covering them.
“They look wonderful, thank you Mipsy.” He says, putting the shirt on carefully. Mipsy nods at him before disappearing again, most likely to take care of Callie’s needs.
He unwraps the towel from his waist, putting on his boxers, pants, and socks. He didn’t know where his shoes were, probably hidden somewhere by Mipsy. He didn’t need them currently so he didn’t bother calling Mipsy to bring them.
He opens the door, shivering at the cool air that hit him. He hadn’t even realized how hot the bathroom had become. He was slightly surprised to see Callie sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for him. She smiles as they make eye contact, “Hello love, hopefully it’s fine that I’m in here?”
He tilts his head, confused at her question. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s your home, I’m just a guest.”
A hint of sadness clouds Callies eyes, “It’s still your room, guest or not, and you deserve to have a choice about what happens in here. Okay sweetheart?”
Harry doesn’t really understand, but nonetheless he nods his head in agreement.
“Alright, do you need to do anything else? Or are you ready to leave?”
Harry shrugs, looking down at his feet, bare except for his socks, all he really needed was his shoes. Callie’s eyes follow his line of sight, humming in understanding. “Мипси!” She calls out, her voice echoing due to the volume.
Harry had realized that night that Мипси means Mipsy in Russian. (He was proud of himself for finally coming to a conclusion.)
“Yes Lady Callie?” Mipsy asks politely, fidgeting with her hands behind her back.
“Hi love, can you please bring Harry his shoes, we need to leave in a little to go shopping.”
Mipsy nods, a big smile now on her face. (Most likely due to the fact she’s being called on so much today)
She disappears before returning a minute later, this time holding Harry’s shoes in one hand. They had been cleaned and polished, now a shiny brown.
“Thank you sweetheart, and while we’re gone can you please prepare lunch? We’ll be returning around twelve-thirty.”
Mipsy nods again, this time in understanding, before she hands Harry his shoes, then disappears for the last time.
Callie turns her attention back to him, her smile somehow growing. “Are you ready for a fun shopping trip дорогой?”
Harry should really learn Russian, for all he knows, Callie could be calling him an idiot.
(Oh, if only he knew)
Harry winces at the loud voices surrounding him, he had only just exited the floo and he was already overwhelmed. He jumps when a hand touches his shoulder, relieved to find that it was only Callie. “This way Harry” she tells him, having to yell slightly so that he was able to hear her. He nods as she leads him away towards a quieter area, sighing in relief when his eardrums were no longer in pain.
Callie smiles at him as they slow to a stop, “Before we continue, I want to warn you. We will be going to a muggle shopping market. So you’ll need to stay close to me, alright sweetheart?” Harry nods in understanding, though a bit confused. From his experience at Hogwarts in his past life, all the purebloods hated everything to do with muggles and wanted nothing to do with them.
Maybe it was different in the 1930s? Or maybe Russian wizards don’t care about that sort of thing?
He never really thought about it, plus he never left the UK in his past life so he has no idea if non british wizards cared about that sort of thing.
He felt sort of guilty for not being more knowledgeable about other wizard cultures. He hated how it made him feel, how it made him realize that he and the racist purebloods weren’t so different after all.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when Callie slows to a stop once again and he couldn’t help but look around surprised, they were in a completely new area. How long was he consumed by his thoughts? He really needs to stop being an overthinker, cause one of these days he’s gonna get lost.
He follows Callie into a small shop, filled with clothes on racks and mannequins. Many of the clothes looked over the top, most likely for rich people who want to make their wealth known. So why the hellwas Callie and Harry here?
An old woman emerges from a back room, a wide smile spreading on her face.
“Ah! Ms. Hawthorne, what delight to see you again! Another dress I presume?” She squints at Callie, a fire burning in her baby blue eyes, “Or maybe something more bold?”
Harry can’t help but curl into himself when her fierce gaze latches on to him, “I was quite sure that you had told me that you have no kids, or was I mistaken Ms. Hawthorne?”
To Harry’s surprise, Callie doesn’t deter at the confrontation. Instead she smiles with a glint of amusement resting in her eyes. “No, you were not mistaken Mrs. Jones. Harrison here is a recent addition, which is why we have decided to visit your lovely boutique this fine morning.”
Callie gently guides Harry out from behind her, “Harrison is in need of some proper clothes, preferably enough to fill a closet. Shoes as well please.”
Mrs. Jones studies them both for a moment, clearly trying to find any traces of a lie, before finally smiling. “Of course, follow me please, we must measure you before we can properly dress you.”
Callie takes his hand once again and leads him to follow Mrs. Jones, who somehow had already disappeared into the back room. (How the hell was someone so old, so damn fast?)
Harry expected the backroom to be messy and full of boxes and racks of clothes, but surprisingly it was the opposite. Clothes were neatly folded on shelves lining the wall to the right, tall mirrors hung on the wall in front of him, and a long wooden table sat in front of a large window to the left.
Mrs. Jones waves him over to one of the mirrors, manhandling him to stand in front of it in a star stance. (Merlin, he feels like a bloody idiot.) He watches as Mrs. Jones grabs a measuring tape off the table, as well as a pencil and a leather notebook.
She hands Callie the lather and answers her questioning gaze almost immediately with a pout. “Keep track of the numbers, will you dear? I’m quite old and can’t possibly handle juggling both at once.”
Callie smiles at Mrs. Jones, easily amused at her half-assed attempt at guilt tripping her.
“Of course.”
Harry can’t help but smile at the interaction, their personalities complimented each other so well. He silently wonders if Mrs. Jones knew about Callie being a witch? Probably not. He’s not entirely sure if The Ministry of Magic exists yet but even so there’s probably still laws that prevent wizards and witches from telling non-family muggles about magic.
Harry yelps in surprise when a cold boney hand grazes his left shoulder, lightly wrapping the measuring tape around his forearm. Mrs. Jones laughs at his attempts to cover up his embarrassment, somehow making it sound real but also disgustingly fake at the same time. “You’re quite the jumpy one, aren’t you Harrison?” Harry’s face heats up at the remark and he awkwardly glances at Callie, a silent cry for help. But instead of coming to his rescue, she just fucking laughs! And what’s worse is that his face must have revealed his feeling of betrayal, because Callie takes one look at his face and begins to laugh harder!
Harry couldn’t help but pause in shock as the laugh echoed in the room. Callie's laugh was something he never expected to come out of someone of her status. Unlike Mrs. Jones’s laugh, which sounded fake and proper, Callie’s sounded genuine and full of joy.
It reminded him of Sirius.
Was that wrong of him to think?
He felt like it was. But at the same time it made him feel better, it made him feel like Sirius was still here, even though he was dead almost 50 years in the future.
He shouldn’t be shocked by his way of thinking, he realized long ago that grief is weird. It makes you act different, think different, feel different.
It makes you do crazy shit.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t mind it, because in the end, grief doesn’t change him as much as he likes to think.
It only took an hour before Harry and Callie were leaving the small boutique. Mrs. Jones had informed Callie to come back tomorrow to pick up the clothes. How a whole closet's worth of clothes were meant to be done by tomorrow? Harry had no clue. But then again, people worked in mysterious ways, even muggles.
After a few minutes of walking, Callie stops to face him then lowers herself to his eye level. “Harry, may I ask you a very important question?” she asks, though her tone gave away that it wasn’t actually that important. But nonetheless Harry nods.
“Is there anything you would like? A toy, books, maybe even a new pair of glasses?” Ah. She wants him to make a decision, probably to make him feel more in control. He holds back a scoff, if only she knew that he was actually seventeen. (He just doesn’t want to admit that the question does actually make him feel more comfortable and in control.)
Even though the question was ridiculous, Harry still paused to think. He doesn’t know how long this arrangement would last and he should probably take advantage of it. Obviously toys don’t interest him, maybe some books to entertain him. And to help him in his studies. If he was going to live a better life then he needs to know how to defend himself.
Plus it would be nice to just relax and learn, instead of cramming knowledge into his brain whenever he could. That’s one of the few things he hated about Hogwarts, it never felt like he was really learning anything, it was too fast paced and strict. Then again, he never really did well in any school, it’s just not his thing.
“Books.” He finally answers, before frantically adding a ‘please’ as to not seem rude. Callie’s eyes twinkle at his answer, “Of course sweetheart” she whispers. “Would you like magical books or muggle books?”
Muggle books never really interested him all that much, most of them were fairy tales and the ones that weren’t were just some useless crap about wisdom and philosophy. Plus magical books can help him protect himself much easier than a muggle book can.
“Magical please”
Callie nods in satisfaction before she stands up, dusts herself off and takes Harry’s hand once again. “Off to Diagon Alley then.”
Harry can’t help but notice a change in her demeanor, what made her so damn happy?
Not that he’s complaining, it’s nice, her being happy makes him happy.
Is that how it works?
A small sign hung next to a small book shop named 'Books & Scrolls’
‘25% off of any damaged books.’
It wasn’t the same shop he would go to when shopping for school books, but maybe it doesn’t exist yet? Or maybe Callie just preferred this one.
A bell rang as they entered and a squeaky male voice greeted them. “Oh- Hello! Welcome to Books & Scrolls, is there anything specific you’re looking for?” Callie glances at Harry, waiting for his answer. He shakes his head, he doesn’t remember any books that he would immediately grab and even if he did they might not have even been written yet!
“No, but thank you, we’ll let you know if we need any help.” The young man behind the counter nods at Callie’s words, before returning back his own book. (Harry can’t help but think he looks like a mixture between Hermione and Ron. Like if they had a son together, this is exactly what he would look like.)
Callie leads Harry further into the store, slowing down every once in a while to allow Harry to glance at signs labeling the organized aisles. Harry pauses in front of one of the signs, debating if it was worth it or not to ask if they could look down this aisle.
Callie notices his hesitance and glances at the sign, “The Dark Arts?”
Harry nods shyly, blushing when Callie coos at his embarrassment. “Don’t be shy, love, these books are for you to enjoy. Pick out whatever you want, I promise I won’t judge you.”
Callie thinks for a moment, before lifting his chin to look at her. “Sweetheart, would it make you feel better if you searched on your own? We can meet up at the front counter when you're done.” Harry nods in agreement, though he does feel a bit guilty. Callie was so excited to take him book shopping and here he is asking to do it by himself.
Merlin, he feels like a prick.
“I can tell what you’re thinking Harry, and listen to me right now, do not feel bad. I am not offended by your choice. I am a grown adult who can handle being told ‘no’ or to go away.” She sighs and pats his head with a smile. “Now, go. Get as many books as you want.”
Is it sad for him to say that Callie is the most mature, kindest, and respectful adult he’s ever met?......Yeah it probably is.
“Thank you Callie” He returns a smile, a real one, before watching her walk away. (Most likely to find some books of her own)
He sighs and begins to walk down the aisle, glancing at each book’s title to see if any interest him. He keeps forgetting that dark magic wasn’t banned in the 30s, it was just looked down upon. He’s always wanted to try a dark spell but he never got the chance with Dumbledore breathing down his neck.
He’s halfway through the aisle before a book finally stands out to him and he carefully grabs the book. He can’t help but admire the beautiful shade of brown that the cover held.
His finger traces the title that is engraved into the front.
‘Dark Magic For Dark Souls By Ivor Vangron’
He flipped the cover and peeked at the chapter index, his eyes fixated on the title of the third chapter. He couldn’t look away.
‘Introduction To Blood Magic’
Blood magic? He swears he heard that somewhere. (He knows that he shouldn’t since it’s dark magic but he can’t shake that feeling of Deja Vu)
He closes the cover and tucks it under his arm, he was definitely getting this book. He roams around the shop a bit longer, grabbing another dark arts book as well as two potion books, one healing book, and one Defense against the dark arts book.
He wanted so badly to grab more but he knows he needs to travel light when he eventually has to leave.
He only struggled a little when he began to head back to the front counter. (He struggled so fucking much.) Callie was already waiting for him, chatting politely with the cashier, two books of her own resigned on the counter. He hopes she hasn’t been waiting too long.
She watches in amusement as he attempts to walk (waddle) a few more steps without the tower of books in his arms falling everywhere, she tries to hide a laugh by pretending to lightly cough (though failing miserably) before finally having mercy on him by taking half of the stack and setting it down on the counter gently.
The cashier raises an eyebrow at the two short stacks of books sitting in front of him, muttering something about Ravenclaw before levitating each book individually, inserting the book number into the till, and setting it down gently in a brown paper bag.
He only pauses for a moment at the dark magic books, studying Harry before continuing, seemingly feeling like he should mind his own damn business. (Which he should.)
It doesn’t take long before the cashier turns to Callie, finished with ringing up the books. “That will be 2 Galleons please.”
Harry doesn’t know how to react to the price, in his timeline 2 Galleons would be a bargain. But he knew inflation was a thing at least in the muggle world and wasn’t sure how much that influenced the wizarding world.
He glanced at Callie, trying to read her expression in an attempt to see if he needs to send back money from any future jobs to pay off a debt.
But he should have known better, because Callie (not-surprisingly) doesn’t bat an eye at the price, just opens a coin purse and hands the respected amount to the cashier.
He keeps forgetting that Callie is extremely rich and doesn’t bat an eye at any prices, no matter how low or high it may be.
For some reason that kind of stresses him out.
He assumes it’s because he’s not used to not being able to read people’s expressions. He’s been doing it almost his whole life, whether it was to avoid a beating from Vernon or it was to stay in Dumbledore’s good grace.
Despite the knot forming in his stomach, Harry still smiled and thanked Callie when she handed him a bag full of books. He tried to ignore the growing knot as they walked down Diagon alley.
He was having a good day, why was the universe so fucking against it?
“Harry, love, what’s wrong?”
God damnit now he’s ruining the good mood, why the hell was he messing everything up today?
“Oh Милый, don’t cry!” A hand suddenly cupped his right cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that began trickling down his trembling face.
When did he start crying? Why was he crying?
He involuntarily whimpered when the hand suddenly drew away from him.
Bloody fucking hell this so embarrasing.
The warmth of body heat returned once again, this time when he was hugged.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” She whispers, one of her hands rubbing his back soothingly.
Hearing the words, the internal wall suddenly broke and everything hit him at once. He began to sob, wrapping his arms tightly around Callie.
He didn’t even have the dignity left to be embarrassed when she picked him up with ease to cradle him in her arms.
“Are you tired sweetheart? Is that why you’re upset? Or did I do something wrong?” He shakes his head, he didn’t want Callie to blame herself.
“Alright, well give me one second and we can go back home where it’s nice and quiet.” He doesn’t respond, instead just buries his head deeper into her shoulder to muffle his cries.
It didn’t take very long for Callie to find a floo, only ten minutes at most.
He expected her to set him down before they went through, but she didn’t. She just silently held him tighter before throwing the powder and walking into the fire.
Callie didn’t wait longer than a second before walking out of the floo room, her heels clacking on the marble ground. Harry felt his face heat up in embarrassment once he realized they would have to walk past the portraits. Even though he wasn’t sobbing anymore he was still sniffling and breathing shakily, it doesn’t take a genius to put together that he was crying.
Surprisingly the portraits don’t say anything, or at least not anything more than a few whispers. He suspects that Callie had signaled them to stay quiet, in case they set him off again.
The embarrassment of knowing he was being treated like a small child caused the knot in his stomach to tighten again.
He is a small child though? So why is he so embarrassed? Why is he feeling like this?
Why does he feel so…weak?
“Sweetheart, would you like some tea?” Callie whispered in his ear, her calm voice soothing the knot. He nods, reluctant to extract his face from her shoulder.
He wasn’t ready to be lectured yet, to hear the disappointment come from Callie’s melodic voice. He wasn’t ready.
“Alright love, do you want a sweet treat as well?”
He froze.
He was allowed a sweet treat? Was this a trap?
He hesitantly nods into her shoulder, tensing just in case it was a trap.
He flinched when a hand rested on his back, rubbing soothingly.
“Мипси!” Callie softly yelled, careful to avoid yelling directly into Harry’s ear.
“Yes Lady Callie?” Harry shifted to glance at Mipsy, only being able to catch the top of her head from his angle.
“Could you brew some tea please? Preferably something sweet and soothing, as well as a sweet treat.” Mipsy doesn’t respond so Harry assumes that she just nodded before leaving. Callie sits down on the couch, shifting Harry so he sits on her lap facing her with his face in her shoulder still. He doesn’t remember when they arrived in the living room but then again he was a bit occupied with crying his heart out.
A pop echoes in the silent room and Harry glances to see Mipsy setting down a tray of tea along with a small bowl filled with chocolate pudding, sprinkled with what looks to be dark chocolate. He rubs his sleeve, cringing when snot soaked through it. He shifted so he was no longer on Callie’s lap, but still close enough to hide in her shoulder if needed.
Callie hands Harry one of the tea cups, warning him to be careful since it’s hot. They sit in silence for what feels like half an hour, slowly sipping on the tea. Callie finally breaks the silence, setting her cup down.
She clears her throat before speaking, resting her hands on top of eachother in her lap. “Harry, do you mind explaining to me what happened at Diagon Alley today?” Harry shrugs, taking another sip of his tea. He’s not sure how to explain everything without sounding stupid or crying again.
A hand rests on his shoulder and he has to force his body to resist flinching, he’s already embarrassed enough he doesn’t need to be embarrassed any more.
“Sweetheart, listen to me, you’re not in trouble.” She gently tilts his head up to face her.
“I’m not trying to force you to tell me, but if I know what happened, then I can prevent making the same mistake in the future.” She brushes away a loose strand of his hair, before leaning forward and resting their foreheads together.
Harry’s eyes flutter close and he relishes in the relief that flows in his body.
“I want you to be happy, and if I’m doing something that makes you unhappy then I need to know so I can fix it.” She whispers.
Harry suddenly feels the need to cry again, though this time, he suspects it’s for a different reason.
No one’s ever said that to him. He was always told that he needed to suck it up and deal with it. Even Hermione and Ron never said those words to him. Don’t get him wrong, he knew they cared, they were his best friends of course they cared for him. But that didn’t mean they didn’t have flaws, that they weren’t a bit selfish in their actions.
He didn’t blame them. But they couldn’t blame him for the consequences of their own actions.
“I don’t know why it happened.” He whispers, voice raw and shaky from his breakdown.
“I was fine one minute and the next…I felt like crying.” He sniffles, his nose still runny and stuffed. Callie coos and leans to grab a cloth from the table, guiding Harry’s head towards it, beckoning for him to blow his nose.
“It sounds like you got overwhelmed, love”
Huh, that doesn’t sound right? He’s never gotten ‘overwhelmed’ before.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, everyone gets overwhelmed and it’s a completely normal thing.”
He scowls. Normal? But how is it normal if he’s never been overwhelmed before?
Callie tilts her head and her hazel eyes search his face. For what? He has no idea.
“What’s upsetting you, Милый?” She tilts his head up to look her in the eyes.
“Have I said something to offend you?” Harry’s eyes widen and shakes his head.
He hesitates and inhales a shaky breath. “I was u-upset because I couldn’t read your face and- and because I wanted more books but I couldn’t b-because I have to leave soon- and- and-”
Callie shushes him, cradling his head, and kissing his forehead. “Harry, love, are you worried about me kicking you out and abandoning you?”
His bottom lip trembles, threatening to let out a sob if he even attempts to verbally answer so instead he nods.
“Oh, Бедное мое дитя” Callie tugs him closer, holding him tightly for a few moments.
The pressure of it felt quite nice, sort of like it grounding him to reality. It was rare for him to feel this way, so he always treasured the feeling whenever he did.
Callie sighs and pulls away, cradling his teary face in her hands.
“I have something that I must ask you.”
“Now, I was planning on discussing it with you tomorrow after you got actual clothes but I feel now is the right time to.”
Callie sits up properly, taking a deep breath before looking Harry in the eyes.
He was shocked to see that for the first time in the past two days, there was fear in her eyes. Why was she so afraid?
“Harry, I have spoken to a kind man named Mr. Ledger, he works for the Ministry.”
He feels numb, as if his body doesn’t know how to feel.
“Before you assume the worst. Just know, I was there asking if he had found any living relatives to take you in…He had not.”
Not surprising. Death had already told him that, before leaving him to fucking fend for himself in his eight year old body.
Callie takes another deep breath.
“So..I proposed for me to be your guardian. Permanently.”
Huh?
“He said yes.”
He stares blankly at her, in shock, wondering if he is hearing things?
“What?” He asks, his voice barely audible over the sound of the white noise that has taken over his thoughts.
“It’s your choice of course, I won’t force you to stay here.” She says, nervously.
Harry smiles as tears gather in his eyes, his voice shaky and hesitant as he speaks.
“I would like to stay, please.”
He knew this probably wouldn’t last long, but it was still nice to have hope. Besides, Callie was kind, caring and everything he ever hoped for in a guardian. Well- technically the only things he ever hoped for in a guardian was that they didn’t hit him and fed him at least three meals but she didn’t need to know that.
Callie sighs in relief and hugs him, “Thank you, Thank you.” she whispers, holding him tightly.
He wasn’t quite sure why she was thanking him about him staying, but he thinks it has something to do with her having no kids of her own as well as not much family in general.
Huh. Does this make her his mom? And him her son?
His face burns in embarrassment, of course that wasn’t the case! (Though he wouldn’t object it, if it was)
Callie finally pulls away, using her hand to gently brush away his loose hairs.
She’s watching him fondly and Harry can’t help but glance away in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being watched so closely in such a nice manner.
Callies sighs, and Harry was glad to find that it wasn’t in a bad way, more…relaxed. As if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She stands up, brushing out any wrinkles in her robe.
“I’m afraid I must be on my way now; I believe it is time to give Mr. Ledger an in-person meeting so paperwork can be more efficiently finished.” She smiles at his pout, “I promise I won’t take very long; you are free to begin eating lunch without me if Mipsy is finished, I don’t mind.”
Harry thinks for a moment before shaking his head, “I’m okay with waiting, I still have the chocolate pudding to eat.” And with that he grabs the small bowl eager to dig in. It wasn’t a treacle tart by any means but desert was desert.
Callie laughs at his eagerness, before nodding her goodbye.
Harry smiles brightly as he savors his first bite of pudding, maybe this new life really wasn’t going to be as bad as the first one. At Least he hopes so.
But whether it is or not, he’s going to greatly enjoy not being a child soldier preparing for war for once and actually having a childhood.
Yeah, this was going to be great.