The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Septimus's room. As the first light of his fourth day as a four-year-old touched his face, Septimus stirred awake with excitement. Today, he had decided, he would be more independent. After all, he was four now—a big boy who could do things independently.
He scrambled out of bed, his tiny feet padding softly on the wooden floor. Without waking Severus, who was still asleep in his room, Septimus decided to get dressed. He pulled open his wardrobe and began selecting clothes.
After a few minutes, he stood in front of the mirror, examining his reflection with a frown. His shirt was on backward, the buttons misaligned, and his trousers were inside out. His socks didn't match, one blue and the other red, and he had forgotten to wear any underwear. He sighed but decided that it was good enough. He was ready to tackle the day.
Next, he moved to his shoes. He sat down on the floor, tugging at the laces. After a few frustrated attempts, he got them on, but the left shoe was on the right foot, and the right shoe was on the left. The laces were tangled in a knot that would have stumped even the most patient parent.
Feeling pride and frustration, Septimus made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He knew how Severus made breakfast and was determined to do it today. He dragged a chair over to the counter, clambering to reach the cereal box. He poured it into a bowl, but he spilled more cereal on the counter and floor than into the bowl.
He then tried to pour milk into the bowl. The carton was heavy for his tiny hands, and the milk splashed everywhere, soaking the counter, the cereal box, and Septimus himself. He looked at the mess with wide eyes, feeling a lump in his throat.
Just then, Severus entered the kitchen, drawn by the noise. He stopped in his tracks, taking in the scene: Septimus in his mismatched clothes, shoes on the wrong feet, and the kitchen in disarray.
"Septimus," Severus began his tone with concern and amusement. "What happened here?"
Septimus looked up at his father, his lower lip trembling. "I wanted to be independent, Daddy. I wanted to make breakfast like you do."
Severus's heart softened at his son's earnestness. He walked over, lifting Septimus off the chair and into his arms. "I see. It's courageous to try, but sometimes it's okay to ask for help."
Septimus buried his face in Severus's shoulder, feeling tears of frustration welling up. "I just wanted to be a big boy."
Severus rubbed his back soothingly. "And you are a big boy, Septimus. But even big boys need a little help now and then."
After a few moments, Septimus sniffled and looked up at Severus. "Can we make breakfast together, Daddy?"
Severus smiled. "Of course. Let's clean up first, and then we'll make breakfast."
They spent the next few minutes tidying the kitchen. Severus showed Septimus how to properly pour cereal and milk, and they even managed to cook some scrambled eggs together. Septimus's spirits lifted as they worked side by side, and his father's calm guidance made him feel secure.
With breakfast ready, they sat down at the table. Septimus took a bite of his cereal and grinned up at Severus. "This is the best breakfast ever."
Severus chuckled. "I'm glad you think so, my little helper."
After breakfast, Septimus was determined to continue his independence streak. He wanted to dress himself properly this time. Severus watched as he struggled with his shirt again, the buttons giving him the most trouble.
"Here, let me show you a trick," Severus said, kneeling beside his son. He guided Septimus's hands, showing him how to line up the buttons correctly. After a few attempts, Septimus managed to button his shirt properly.
"I did it!" he exclaimed, looking up at Severus with shining eyes.
"You did," Severus agreed, smiling. "Now, let's fix those shoes."
They sat on the floor together, and Severus patiently untangled the laces, showing Septimus the correct way to tie them. It took a few tries, but eventually, Septimus got it right.
"Look, Daddy! I tied my shoes!" Septimus beamed.
Severus felt a swell of pride. "Well done, Septimus. You're learning quickly."
Feeling accomplished, Septimus decided he wanted to play. Severus suggested they go outside for some fresh air. In the garden, they kicked a ball around, played hide and seek, and even tried a bit of simple gardening with the plant Neville had given him.
Septimus grew tired as the morning turned to afternoon, and they headed back inside. Severus prepared a light lunch, letting Septimus help where he could. They ate together, the earlier mishaps forgotten in the warmth of their companionship.
After lunch, Severus read to Septimus from one of the storybooks his grandparents had given him for his birthday. The boy curled up next to his father, listening intently, his earlier frustrations completely soothed by the loving presence of Severus.
By the time evening approached, Septimus was feeling much more confident. "Daddy, I want to try dressing myself again tomorrow," he said as Severus tucked him into bed.
Severus smiled, kissing his son's forehead. "And you will. We'll practice together, and soon, you can do it yourself."
Septimus yawned, his eyes drooping. "Thank you, Daddy. I love you."
"I love you too, Septimus," Severus replied softly. "Sweet dreams."