Chapter 3
Harry
Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, taking in his surroundings and trying to remember what was going on. He had a funny taste in his mouth and took a sip of water that was sitting next to the couch.
As he remembered the day’s events he kicked his shoes off, peering over at the bags Uncle Sev had dumped there before they left the Leaky cauldron.
Part of him felt like it was all a dream, like he’d wake up in his dingy cupboard to Vernon rapping on the door, a breakfast chore awaiting him.
But with every meal and purchase, that part of him got smaller, making room for the happiness that bubbled in him every time Uncle Sev smiled at him, spoke to him.
Harry sat on the couch looking at the bags, taking it all in. When he suddenly heard a bone chilling noise from upstairs. The faint burr which rung louder In his ears by the second could never be mistakened for anything else; a drill.
Working in a drill factory, Vernon was obsessed with the things, bringing a new model home each week to present at the dinner table. Harry had drained out the long speeches on new technologies and materials, but the sound, the sound would always break through. It would always find away to burrow through his skull, every night. That sound, would never leave him.
It’s not him, Harry told his screaming counterpart, then what is it? It countered back.
Harry walked up the stairs on shaky legs and inched towards his bedroom, the root of the noise it seemed. He slowly walked inside the room, glancing about furtively. With the room looking empty, he peered around the door. With immense relief he revealed Uncle Sev crouched down, drilling a lock into his bedroom door.
The older man looked up and smiled at him, stopping the drill. He regarded Harry for only a few seconds before his smile began to fade, “Are you okay?”
“Drills,” he replied meekly, offering no explanation as he let the colour return to his face. Surely masking his confusion, Severus set the drill down and reached for Harry’s shoulder, dragging him over to look at the shiny lock, “sorry babe, I’m done now anyway.”
Harry looked at the new lock, puzzled, “It’s on the outside?” He asked before he could stop himself, instantly chastising himself for doing so as Uncle Sev’s face set into a frown.
“Yes… it’s not to keep you in, or me out. It’s just there if you want a bit of privacy,” he said, staring into Harry’s eyes and gripping his shoulder tighter.
“Okay?” he said, confused. Was this normal? Why on earth would Severus want Harry to be able to lock him out? He’d never had any friends let alone went to their houses so Petunia and Vernon were the only people he had to compare to Severus and really, there was no comparison, he couldn’t have even dreamed of a world where they would care about if Harry wanted privacy let alone gave him a lock on the inside.
Severus leaned in, levelling their eyes.
“you're allowed to want things, Harry. You’re allowed to have things.”
And oh, oh, he got it, because wasn’t that way he’d been saying all day? What he’d been doing all day? But the message finally sunk in.
He felt stupid tears dripping down his stupid face which was… stupid. And as he reached out and gripped the taller man -hugging someone for the third time today, and in his life- who was crouched down in front of him, burying his face in the crook of his neck, all he could say was, “thanks Uncle Sev,” in a stupidly muffled voice.
Uncle Sev hugged him back tightly until he eventually pulled away, wiping Harry’s face, “why don’t you go have another nap? I’ll make dinner, what would you like?”
“Lasagne,”
Uncle Sev looked pleased by that answer and gave Harry’s arm another reassuring squeeze before picking up his drill and leaving the room.
————
Severus
Muggle cooking was hard but at this point Severus didn’t think there was anything he wouldn’t do for the little boy in the room upstairs.
Severus was a slytherin. Hell, he was the head of slytherin. He was the strict professor who never smiled and always gave you homework for the weekend and before the holidays. He was the professor who never spoke about his home life and never expressed any interest in anyone else’s, he was stone cold and bored and felt no emotions. Severus was mean.
Until a little boy walked into his life, with his mothers eyes and a heart warming smile and a laugh that was yet to be heard but that Severus would give anything to hear, and he was a wreck; laughing, smiling, almost crying and putting someone else’s needs before his own. It’s like Harry was fixing all the bits of him Lily hated and mending all the things his Slytherins desired. Severus just didn’t know what to do with that. But he did know that he much preferred things this way, he always thought having a heart meant it could be broken. But now he knows that having Harry meant that even if it was, that was not his first priority and that felt… very strange indeed.
Using the Italian cookbook that he found in Waitrose, he managed to make a decent looking lasagne, only one side looking slightly well-done.
He swung by the living room to get the clothes and quidditch bags before going up to Harry’s room, “Haz? Dinner.”
He walked in and set the bags down in front of Harry’s chest of drawers.
“Thanks,” Harry yawned, getting out of bed, “you made lasagne from scratch?” He asked, looking at the mess all over Severus’ robes, scrunching up his nose at the thought.
“Hey! It actually looks quite good I’ll have you know,” he protested.
Harry just raised an eyebrow, “Mm hmm”
Severus just chuckled and followed him downstairs.
Harry sat down and nodded in approval as Severus started cutting the pretty good looking -if he did say so himself- lasagne.
“Umm… Uncle Sev?” Harry said a few minutes into the meal, picking a large piece of plastic from his lasagne that looked like it came from the cheese wrapper.
They both stared at the wrapper in silence before Harry burst into laughter. There it is, Severus thought as Harry heaved sobbing laughs, smiling for the first time since they met, not just an awkward, pleased, polite or happy smile but a proper grin that showed off all of his teeth and held back none of the noise bubbling out of his mouth.
Severus felt himself smile as well, just at the sight, face lighting up as the warm feeling in his chest that had been budding all day, bloomed.
“Maybe we should stick to the freezer ones for just now?” Harry suggested, still giggling, “ but just so you know, I think you have to take the wrappers off those too.”
Severus thought Harry quite deserved the splat of delicious lasagne in the face for that, chuckling as he set his wand back on the table.
“Oi! No wands, that’s not fair!” Harry said, wiping cheese from his glasses.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t think this had rules,” Severus said.
“Well now it does, you don’t use your wand and I won’t do this-“ Harry suddenly kicked him very hard in the shin -“ow!”- causing him to bend over and try to clutch it, giving Harry the perfect opportunity to smash Severus’ face down onto his lasagne covered plate.
“Oh-“ Severus looked up in shock then reached over and started to attempt to get back at Harry.
Harry was wheezing with laughter by the time Severus stopped at the sound of the floo chiming. Wiping his face off best he could without a mirror, Severus stood up and made his way into the living room, spotting the head of Albus Dumbledore floating in his fireplace.
“Hello Albus,” Severus slid the smile off his face to seem more professional but the joy in his voice still hadn’t faded.
“Severus,” Dumbledore nodded in greeting, “how are things getting on with Harry?”
“Good, great actually, we went out to Diagon alley for some shopping today.”
“Ah, yes. I believe I recall Hagrid saying something about Nockturn alley?” The old bugger
“Yes, we had a bit of trouble with the floo but everything’s fine,” Severus said.
“Ah good, I’m glad you two are getting out and about,” Dumbledore said, like he already knew it was going to happen.
“Yeah okay,” Severus said in a bored tone, too tired for Dumbledore’s shit, “I’ve got to go get Harry to bed. Good night Albus.”
“Good night, Severus,” the old man said back with a slight chuckle.
“Condescending old codger,” he said once Dumbledore’s head had disappeared from his fireplace.
He looked up to see Harry mischievously smiling at him from the doorway.
“Do not repeat that,” he warned, as Harry’s smile grew. He rolled his eyes and made for the dining room, collecting the dishes to clean.
“Go on, you need a shower, you can have some supper after.”
“Okay,” Harry said and then there was the sound of small feet pattering against the hardwood floor and running up the stairs.
After Harry’s shower, Severus made him toast and honey, cutting the crust off as requested, even though it made his just washed hands and face all sticky again.
By the time Harry finished supper, it was half eight but Harry still seemed to have energy from his naps earlier and didn’t want to go to bed.
They sat in the living room and Severus put the radio on.
“Does it pick up any muggle stations?” Harry asked, only slightly nodding along to the weird sisters' latest songs.
“You don’t like wizard music?”
“Yeah, but it’s just not as good as some of the other stuff I’ve heard,” Harry said.
“What other stuff have you heard?” He asked.
“Dunno like David Bowie and the Rolling Stones, things like that,” Severus was suddenly hit with a memory; Harry had just turned one and Severus went ‘round with a small gift. He flooed into Lily's living room and walked in to see Black and Lupin playing a Bowie record and dancing with Harry, the scene was so unlike what he’d ever seen of the two, the former usually kitted out in leather with a cigarette and a bitch of an attitude, that he had to do a double take. Severus wondered if a small part of Harry felt nostalgic listening to them and just didn’t realise it.
“Yeah they’re good, I think your parents quite liked Bowie.”
Harry’s eyes snapped up to his in interest and held his gaze for a while before nodding.
“Anyway, you should probably get to bed now, it’s late.”
“Okay,” Harry said looking disappointed.
“We’ll go to the beach tomorrow, yeah? I don’t think our radio gets muggle stations but we can see if we can find a shop that sells records and get some tomorrow,” Severus said, trying to lighten Harry’s mood, and it worked.
“Okay!” Harry said smiling.
They made their way upstairs and Severus went to go get some ditanny salve for Harry’s chin.
“What’s that?” Harry asked as Severus sat on the side of his bed and started opening the pot.
“Ditanny, it’s magical it’ll heal your graze in a few minutes,” he answered.
“Ooo cool,” Harry pulled an unnecessary but funny face in an attempt to elongate his chin as Severus slathered some paste on, “thanks,” he said when Severus was done.
“No problem,” Severus stood up and started making his way out of the room before he spotted the Quidditch poster sticking out of a bag, “oh yeah, where do you want this up?”
“Umm… what about over there?” He said pointing at the bit of slanted ceiling that was a perfect view from the bed.
“Ah, good choice,” Severus walked over and put the poster up with a sticking charm.
“Night haz,” Severus said, halfway out of the door.
“Night Uncle Sev,” Harry replied.
Severus switched the light off and both of their eyes went to the poster, where the players were now lit up like fireflies, buzzing about the pitch. Smiling, he shut the door and went downstairs.
Severus sat in the living room for a while with a glass of wine, wondering how his life went from a lonely, depressed potions professor to a single parent who smiles and goes on day trips.
————
The next day Severus woke up in a mess of blankets he’d clearly tried to kick off in his sleep, duvet tangled in his legs. He untangled himself and got up, going for a shower to wash off evidence of the roasting night before.
Once showered he went downstairs to make breakfast. Eggs, as it turned out, were Harry’s favourite so Severus whipped up some eggs and soldiers- without butchering them!- , then went upstairs to wake up Harry at half eight, considering the long day he’d had previously.
He knocked lightly before walking into the room, the sight that greeted him was that of Harry, on the floor, one leg still tangled up in the sheets on top of the bed and the rest of his body sprawled out on hardwood.
“Harry!” Severus rushed over and grabbed his arms, shaking him awake.
“Hmm? Harry blinked his eyes open, face scrunching up, “Uncle Sev? What- oh,” Harry looked around, realising he was on the floor.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just not used to sleeping that high up,” Harry said quickly, clearly seeing- or sensing- Severus’ panic even without his glasses.
“What do you mean?” He asked, confused.
“Well they couldn’t fit a bed in the cupboard, so I just slept on a mat on the floor,” Harry continued, like it was obvious and completely normal.
“Oh, right..” Severus hated everything apart from this little boy, “are you okay though?”
Harry groaned and shuffled a bit, “yeah I’m fine, just a bruise,” with that Harry lifted his arm, displaying a massive red and purple bruise on his elbow.
“Oh my god!” Severus immediately grabbed the boy's arm to inspect it. “it’s fine Uncle Sev,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.
“Stay here I’ll get the bruise balm,” Severus swept out of the room and quickly returned with the pot.
“It might sting a bit but it’ll help,” he said, lifting the boy's arm again.
“Is it magic too?”
“Yeah, it should only take a few minutes to heal now.”
Severus held the small boy by the sides, helping him to stand and checking him over for more injuries. Another bruise was uncovered on his arm, on the bicep, wrapping around, distinctly yellow and brown as opposed to the new injury.
“When did you get this one?” Severus asked, eyeing the young boy. Harry visibly pailed and looked away, mumbling something incoherent. Severus didn’t need to re-ask the question though, he already had a pretty good guess.
“I-“ he stopped. He didn’t actually know what to say.
Severus treated the bruise then spoke to Harry softly, “C’mon I made breakfast.”
Harry silently followed him downstairs and then sat at the table, looking at the food but not touching it. The whole journey to the kitchen he had shuffled and slinked as if he’d just been scolded so Severus nudged him and looked pointedly at the breakfast so Harry would look at him and eat.
Harry started eating quickly, as If before Severus could snatch it away from him.
“Harry,” Severus said approachingly. The small boy stopped with a toast finger half way to his mouth, dripping onto his plate as the boy looked wide eyed at Severus.
“Your going to give yourself the hiccups, slow down, it’s not going to vanish,” i’m not going to take it from you.
Harry nodded and set his toast down, taking a long gulp of water before returning at a much slower tempo.
Harry had slowed down immensely with only a bit of reassurance, he was eating his meal if only a tad bit slower than usual, and yet,
he still managed to get it all over his face.
————
Harry
After breakfast Harry went up to get ready for the day. He didn’t have a shower considering they were going to the beach and Severus had advised him not to wash the bruise balm off.
The bruise had been the result of another injury. Harry had got blood on the carpet in the Dursley’s living room some days ago; Dudley had been reaching his fat hand out to get the television remote from the coffee table when he’d knocked over a tumbler, it fell and shattered against the hard wood and Petunia had screeched for Dudley to move his hand away from the broken glass, immediately inspecting it for damage. When it appeared there was none Petunia had made Harry clean the glass up himself. Hence the blood. ‘You’re dripping blood all over the carpet you stupid boy!’ Vernon yelled, grabbing Harry’s arm painfully and dragging him out of the room. He swung Harry around to face him, bright purple and livid, ‘you’ll clean up that hand and then get scrubbing the carpet, if that doesn’t come out so help me god’ he turned the tap to scoulding and yanked Harry’s hand under, rinsing the blood off, not caring when he yelped and cried.
The blood hadn’t come out and the bruise hadn’t gone away.
Harry looked down at his ugly, scarred hands and quickly busied himself with his clothes, revelling in the way they finally fit him and then ran a comb through his hair to no avail.
Brushing his teeth and the morning’s blues away, he bounded downstairs, post breakfast energy ready to be put to good use, “ready?,” Uncle Sev asked, to which Harry nodded his head vigorously.
Uncle Sev was wearing a black shirt and black trousers, he had navy suede shoes on, he looked all too fancy to be going to the beach but at least he was wearing muggle clothes, Harry felt a bit uncomfortable with all the funny stares they’d been receiving in Waitrose.
As they left the house Harry’s eyes widened at the garden, he’d caught a glimpse through the window on his first night and seen a blur the previous night, after he’d been sick. Now he had the time to properly look around he spotted daisies and roses and vines of ivy growing like tumours on the old brick of the cottage. Harry felt like he was in a wonderland, Hagrid’s garden was splendid but this, this was real magic, he was surprised when there were no fairies flying around the red mushrooms and he voiced it.
“No none of those pests for a while, but we did have an infestation of pixies, took ages to get rid of the nasty buggers,” Uncle Sev answered seriously.
Harry stood, mouth agape, “fairies and pixies are real?“ he. Was. Flabbergasted.
“About as real as unicorns.”
Harry choked on air.
“what?!“
Uncle Severus chuckled and patted him on the back, keeping his arm there to steer him through the gate.
Harry started breathing and let mirth and happiness flood through him, unicorns and fairies were real and he lived in a magical cottage with a kind man who bought him fitting clothes and took him to the beach.
He pinched himself.
real
He took in his surroundings, they were in a small seaside town, Harry spotted an inn, a pub, a chip shop and a quirky pottery shop along what he assumed was the high street. There were a few people about as the day was hot but they were mostly dog walkers as it was also young. He leapt down the road, spotting a children’s park out of the corner of his eye. Harry had no interest in it though, as it resembled the playground of his primary school. The beach was what Harry was interested in, something he’d only seen in books and on TV.
“Wait at the road Harry!” He heard Uncle Sev call as he neared one. He did so eagerly, practically dragging the poor man across then continuing to do so as they reached the other side of the road because it seemed to quicken him substantially.
The beach was viewable from the main road and his bedroom but it looked even better up close. Harry made for the sand but was stopped by a hurried looking Uncle Sev who ushered his shoes off and rolled his trousers up before letting him pelt onto the beach.
His feet sank into the sand instantly, slowing him. There was only a slight breeze and Harry stopped halfway to the sea, soaking in the sun rays, he turned and waved at Uncle Sev who was quite far behind him having not run. Feeling the sand between his toes with the slight breeze and the feeling of safety that has softly inserted itself into the foundation of Harry’s mind he felt almost calm standing on the coast of Cornwall, that was until a very large seagull broke him out of his tranquillity with a start.
Harry started back down the beach until he reached the sea, he looked back at Sev who once more waved at him while leisurely making his way towards the young boy. Waving back, he crept towards the sea and dipped his foot in, the sea was not as warm as he’d expected it to be considering the weather but it wasn’t freezing. He walked in slowly, splashing and kicking around.
Harry played for a while, building sandcastles and making seaweed art. When he was tired and wanted a break, he turned around to find Uncle Sev who was sitting on a picnic blanket watching him with a smile.
Harry ran over and sat down next to him, “hungry?” He’d asked.
“A little, what’s the time?”
“Just after twelve, here,” Uncle Sev produced several ham and cucumber sandwiches from one box and many salt and vinegar crisps from another, “and drink all of this,” with that he pulled a large water bottle from the bag.
“All of it?” Harry asked, eyeing the litre of water.
“Yes all of it, you’re not getting heat stroke on my watch Harry Potter,” Uncle Sev raised an eyebrow and Harry rolled his eyes, taking the bottle from his hands and taking a long, audible gulp.
“Happy?” Severus just frowned, which told Harry that he was not, although whether that was from the lack of water consumption or the cheek he wasn’t sure.
After some crisps, two sandwiches, a bottle of water and a big dollop of sun cream smeared all over his face, Harry finally made it back to the ocean.
The beach looked busier further along the shore but they were in a quiet area which consisted of mostly locals. Harry made his way to his previously built sandcastle when he spotted someone else sat next to it, adding a post box and a flag. There was no breeze but the flag still seemed to be waving around as if there was, strange.
“Umm, hello?” Harry said uneasily, he’d had kids in his primary school class obviously but they mostly steered clear of him, so he’d never had many conversations with people his own age -Dudley didn’t count, that was just bullying.
“Hi,” said the girl simply, “I'm Hermione.”
“Harry,” he greeted. The girl was wearing a stripy purple dress with black leggings underneath that had been rolled up but were slightly wet at the bottoms. She had brown eyes and wild, frizzy, thick hair which was currently braided into a plat.
“Did you know your castle is structurally incorrect?” She asked him.
“What, sorry?” He asked bewildered, sure this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, was she going to stand on it?
“Your castle, it’s built round and with the walls angled in, if it was hollow it would collapse in on itself,” Hermionie replied.
“I just used a bucket…” Harry felt very dumb and a little annoyed, who was she to come here, change his castle and then insult it?
“S’all right, it’s just sand,” with that she pushed up from the ground and brushed her hands off on her dress, “want to have a fight with me? I brought pistols,” she pointed to two plastic guns on the ground next to her.
Harry was extremely perplexed, “a fight?” He said nervously, she already hated him? What had he done?
“Yeah like a water fight, here” she handed him one of the plastic pistols and took her own over to the sea and sucked some water into it. Without warning she pushed in the yellow knob on the front and water came squirting out all over Harry, flattening his hair and dripping down his front.
“Oi!” He said out of shock, he wiped his glasses and saw the girl giggling. He rushed forward and filled up his own gun, getting her right in the face.
They played for what felt like hours before settling down onto the sand.
“Do you live here?” Harry asked, wondering if he’d see his first friend again.
“Not far, you?”
“Yeah I just moved in with my Uncle Sev up the road.”
“Cool,” she said, “oh is that him?”
Harry spun around to see where she was pointing, sure enough, there he was talking to a couple, the woman had thick wild hair like Hermione’s and he was sure they were her parents.
“Yeah it is.”
“Cool, I bet they’ll be friends and then we can see each other again!” Harry smiled at her eagerness. someone actually wanted to be friends with him?! his life just kept getting better.
“I’ve never really had friends before, everyone always thinks I’m weird,” Harry wondered for a moment if he’d accidentally thought out loud but when he turned he realised it was the sad looking girl next to him who had spoken.
“Me neither,” he replied.
“really?! but you're so cool?” At this Harry burst out laughing, Hermionie soon joining.
“Really,” Harry said, still giggling, “do you want to be my friend?”
“Yeah, do you want to be mine?” She asked nervously.
“Definitely,” Harry said smiling, she smiled back and the subject changed to something unmemorable.
The two children eventually made their way over to the now joined picnic blankets a little bit up the beach.
Hermionie broke into a grin when she reached her parents, “this is Harry, my new friend.”
Hermionie’s mother gave a delighted smile, and Uncle Sev smiled at Harry too. His first friend!
“Yes we were just talking to his Uncle, they live just down St. Clement street, we were thinking of maybe going round for tea sometime this week?” Harry and Hermione were both very excited by this and the families bid farewell as the clock ticked upon four O’clock.
“Want to go see if we can find some Vinyls?” Uncle Sev asked.
“Yeah!” He replied.
Uncle Sev dragged him into an alleyway before they went up to the high street, casting cleaning and drying charms then giving Harry his shoes back.
They then went up to the high street and nosied ‘round shops, finally finding one called Ricky’s Music. They went inside and immediately over to the record section.
The shop was small with an organised chic style but on one wall there were masses of messy looking vintage posters scattered out in an odd juxtaposition that kind of worked.
They started searching through the rows, trying to find some good ones but Harry just quickly flicked through and glanced at each one, not really knowing what he was looking for.
“Ah ha!” Uncle Sev declared five minutes later, pulling out a colourful looking album called ‘some girls’
About an hour later- by this point Harry was just sitting on a magenta chaise longue watching MTV on the small tv mounted in the far away corner of the shop- Uncle Sev had accumulated 7 Vinyls and appeared to be done, nudging Harry gently then making his way over to the counter.
Once they had been purchased, Uncle Sev led him back in the direction of home. As they neared the end of the high street, Sev stopped at an ice cream shop. Yet again Harry went for a three scoop cone with chocolate ice cream and Uncle Sev indulged in an affogato with mint ice cream.
Ice cream happy and having made a new friend, Harry flung himself onto the living room floor, exhausted. Uncle Sev sat on the sofa and pulled the stack of records from his bag. Harry immediately perked up, kneeling next to the sofa to get a look at the albums.
Uncle Sev used his sleeve to wipe most of the ice cream off Harry’s face before turning back to the Records. He shuffled through them explaining some that did not have their names obviously stated. Harry was most excited for the rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars as it was apparently one of his father’s favourites but the rest looked good as well; crime of the century, supertramp: Abbey road, the Beatles: parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, Simon and Garfunkel: some girls, Rolling Stones: Dire straits, dire straits and electric warrior by T. Rex.
Harry looked in awe at the selection of colourful records and started flipping some of them open after a quick scorchify on his hands.
Uncle Sev sweeped over to the record player and put on Ziggy stardust.
He went down to sit next to Harry as the first drum beats sounded. The first song -five years- seemed sad at first but soon turned haunting, sending chills down Harry’s spine as much as it calmed and enticed him. The song ended with Harry sprawled out on the floor with his eyes closed.
The next song -soul love- brought his mood up and even had Sev humming along.
The rest of the songs were more upbeat -sans the last, rock ‘n’ roll suicide- but Harry didn’t get up and dance, he lay and took in the beat, took in the message of what Bowie was sending so beautifully.
At this point it was about half past seven so Uncle Sev went to go make dinner.
“Are you going to take the plastic off this time?” Harry asked, eyeing Severus with distrust.
He rolled his eyes, “yes Harry, we’re having pizza -from frozen” he added probably in case Harry thought he was going to make it from scratch (he definitely did not and chilled at the thought).
Uncle Sev brought the record player to the kitchen and played crime of the century by supertramp while he busied himself with dinner, lifting Harry to sit on a spare countertop.
They both loved the psychedelic album with all of its quirks, Harry’s favourite being bloody well right, a more upbeat track, while Uncle Severus preferred the namesake, crime of the century, with its dramatic piano solos.
Once they were finished with dinner- which had been cooked successfully, if a little burnt on the bottom- Harry went to go get a shower to scrub off the sea, taking notice that the bruise on his bicep was gone in addition to the one on his elbow.
Uncle Sev tucked him in especially tight that night, trying to avoid another incident like the one that morning had brought.
Full, calm and happy, Harry tossed and turned wondering what to dream about. He already had everything. So he dreamed that his life stayed exactly the same. Just Harry and Severus in their little cottage forever with Hermionie and the sea just down the road.
A simple life.
A life full of love.