Tha gaol agam ort
It was a beautiful day in October, one of those splendid days adorned with a wide range of red and orange shades, a light breeze, and low but vibrant sunlight. Minerva had dressed Severus accordingly: he wore a knee-length, thick coat with large sleeves of a beautiful titian colour; on top of it was a crimson red scarf which she had tied securely around his neck. She enjoyed dressing him in all kinds of colourful clothes, fairly certain that it would improve his mood and, subconsciously, to create a sharp contrast between the spirited child before her and the gloomy grown-up she had known. Sure, Severus had never been averse to a bit of green, but that was as far as he'd gone.
It had been almost three weeks since the child had been with her – a reasonable amount of time to judge a child's character, but so far she remained rather ignorant of the boy's inner life. One moment he was playing happily, oblivious to the things around him, absorbed into a world of his own; the next she found him staring into the distance, his toys scattered on the floor, his face completely blank. At first, confronted with this behaviour, she had thought he pretended to be happy, that he put on a mask when adults looked at him. She had not slept for two days. But, gradually, as her observation skills had improved, she had come to the conclusion that Severus' reactions were genuine, that he truly could be overjoyed one second and apathetic the next. Perhaps it was worse; at least she could hope to prolong the moments of cheerfulness, and to shorten the moments of grief. Every smile, every spark in those black eyes was a victory she craved and savoured with a kind of desperate glee.
"Now, we're going to go outside, Severus. By the lake. I want you to hold my hand at all times, alright? We will meet a few of my friends there. Pomona and Filius and Hagrid. I'm sure you will love them. Albus and Poppy will be there as well."
The boy said nothing, but bit his lip. Minerva's first instinct was to tell him not to worry, but she had learnt the hard way that such bits of advice never helped the boy. In fact, he took them to be standards that had to be met at all costs, and often paid a heavy emotional price as a result. She knelt in front of him.
"I know you are scared. It's perfectly reasonable to be: you don't know them. But I will be there, alright? I'll be there with you and I won't leave you."
Severus tilted his head, looking at his feet.
"You don't need to take me with you", he said quietly.
Minerva smiled reassuringly.
"We won't go if you don't want to, mo leanbh."
He shook his head.
"I mean – I mean Dad don't take me with him when he goes to the pub. He's got – he's got friends there."
"I understand. But I'd very much like you to come. What do you say?"
The child hesitated – he glanced at the door with both apprehension and excitement.
"Well?"
"Okay", he whispered by and by.
She stood up, pressing his hand firmly into hers and opening the door. As they got past the threshold, she noticed Severus looking back once, then twice; she stopped, cursing herself mentally.
"Mr. Octopus, Severus! We almost forgot him. Go fetch him."
The child looked at her in awe.
"I can take him outside?" he asked, not letting go of her hand. "But he'll be dirty."
"Then he will take a bath with you, dear. He will go wherever you go." She nudged his hand, pointing in the living room's direction. "And if you forget to take him with you, you can tell me, alright? It is no bother."
The shadow of a smile appeared on the boy's face. "Thank you", he said quietly, entering the apartment again and retrieving the soft toy from the couch.
Severus was not to meet the other students. Minerva usually moved him around the castle after curfew, or during class times. It had been a very strange feeling to carry him around the first time, not being the one in front of students, hearing someone else speak in her own classroom; Albus had hired a new Transfiguration teacher who did a passable job while she only retained her duties as Deputy Headmistress. She direly missed teaching, but Severus had to come first, and she did not regret her choice. Besides, she got to train their newest recruit, and it was already challenging as it is. She needed rest.
It was October break, the first holiday since the war, and there were barely any students left in the castle. For the first time in all of Minerva's years at Hogwarts, those remaining were a majority of Slytherins – children whose parents had fled or been sent to prison.
Some were ashamed. Others were angry. A few still held on to blood supremacist beliefs. All of them hung their heads low, even the youngest. They were bitter, and Minerva was bitter, and most staff members were bitter and could not help. Horace had left. That was certainly for the better. The new Potions teacher was a middle-aged lady who handled the students quite well, but had not been appointed Head of House.
There was no Head of House. A school psychologist had been hired, and it was her who saw to them. And the staff did it best, they really did. But some wounds were too fresh. Minerva was especially glad to not have to face the sixth and seventh-year Slytherins: they looked at her with unconcealed disdain or fear.
She thought of Severus, all alone for a year.
The child squinted when they stepped into the sunlight. He was, for some reason, very sensitive to light, and this had not gotten better despite their numerous walks outside. As they progressed down the path, she glimpsed her colleagues from afar. A few chairs and a table had been brought near the lake. Albus' silver hair shined brightly in the sunlight; Minerva slowed down a bit, glancing at the little boy next to her.
She could not put it into words. She did not want to see the headmaster. But it was he who welcomed them - he peered at her uneasily, then, lowering his gaze, focused entirely on Severus.
"Hello, my boy. I am glad to see you. You look very handsome today!"
"Hi, Albus", the child replied timidly. His gaze shifted to the rest of the staff, who were looking at him with astonishment. It was the first time they saw him.
Rubeus spoke first.
"Hello, Severus. I'm Hagrid. I'm the gamekeeper her' at Hogwarts. Look," he took something out from one of his huge pockets, "I brough' yeh a gift."
Opening his palm, he revealed a beautiful little boat carved out of wood, the perfect size for a child like Severus. He gave it to the little boy with immense gentleness, his huge hand grazing Severus' tiny body as though he was only picking a small flower in the grass.
Severus looked down at the boat curiously. Hagrid gave Minerva an interrogative look, retreating next to his other colleagues.
"You made it?" Severus finally asked timidly, not taking his eyes off the wooden toy.
"I did", Hagrid replied. "An' it works – I tested it myself."
The boy looked up, smiling ever so slightly. His cheeks were flushed.
"Thank you", he replied softly, "I like it very much."
"That adorable voice!" Pomona whispered in Minerva's ear, leaning towards her. "And those eyes!"
"I know, right?" Minerva replied. "Wait till you hear him laugh."
"Severus", Albus said, "this is Pomona, and this is Filius. They are dear friends of ours. Will you say hello to them?"
Severus looked up shyly. He did not understand – they looked nice, but uncomfortable. It was he who was afraid; they were grown-ups, they should not be.
"Hello", he told them, watching as the smaller man seemed to somewhat relax.
"Hello, Severus. I am very glad to meet you", the man told him in a high-pitched voice.
"And so am I", the lady next to him said fondly. "Very glad indeed."
They gathered around the table to have tea: Pomona had brought a large variety of cakes and biscuits, all for Severus to try. As they sat down, the headmaster made to take Severus on his lap. The boy extended his arms, but suddenly the older man looked at Minerva, hesitating; there was a brief pause; she nodded slightly. Albus picked up the child without a word. The silence lingered for a few more seconds.
"So, Severus," Pomona said rather awkwardly. "Are you enjoying your time here with Minerva? What have you been up to?"
Poppy handed him a cupcake, which the child took thankfully. That was good; the boy had stopped refusing food on principle.
He looked at the herbology professor, then at Minerva with apprehension.
"Tell Pomona, Severus," Minerva encouraged him. "I dare say with have been busy."
"And eat up", Poppy pressed him. "It's all for you."
The boy looked slightly overwhelmed. He frowned. "One thing at a time", Albus whispered to him helpfully. The headmaster felt the child take a deep breath in. He took a bite of the cupcake, which he savoured; then, slowly, he looked at Pomona again.
"Minerva teaches me words", Severus said softly. "I like it."
"What kinds of words?" Filius asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Words… words in Gaelic", Severus replied a bit more enthusiastically. "Caisteal. Geasa draoidheachd. Biadh. Gorm. Dubh. Dachaidh. Mamaidh. Magairlean."
Minerva almost chocked on her tea. Pomona fought hard not to laugh.
"What's that last one, dear?"
"Pomona, don't make it worse."
"But you're a very good teacher, Minerva. He says it just like you."
"What's the matter?" Filius asked.
"Minerva has been teaching Severus swear words."
"I have not-"
"It's rather fitting", Poppy commented humorously.
Minerva rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. "I'd like to see you in my place. Whatever you say, they pick up. The wee bairn remembers everything!"
"How d'yeh say boat, Minerva?" Hagrid asked.
"Bàta."
"Severus, wou'd yeh like to try the bàta wi' me?"
The boy glanced at Minerva excitingly.
"Go on, dear", she told him. "Have fun."
They watched as the small boy and the half-giant walked away towards the lake, Severus' plushie tucked away safely under his left arm. With the tip of his fingers, Hagrid put the boat onto the water. The surface was very still: the boy watched, captivated, as it broke into a dozen wrinkles.
"He seems to be doing well", Pomona commented, looking at them fondly. "I cannot believe this is Severus."
"But it is", Minerva replied. "You'll see. He's far too serious for his age."
There was a hint of melancholy in her voice; she realised it too late. She straightened herself, attempting to smile.
"He's such a bright child", she added, almost apologetically. "I just struggle to understand him sometimes."
Poppy put a hand on her shoulder.
"You are doing a wonderful job, Minerva. Look at his rosy cheeks. He is glowing."
"I know. But he might cry himself to sleep tonight all the same."
"He is a very sensitive child", Albus remarked.
"He is, is he not, Albus?" Minerva snapped, unable to restrain herself. "So sensitive."
The headmaster's pupils dilated slightly, but he did not reply. Poppy poured herself another cup of tea, her lips thinning.
"I've told you, Minerva", she told her comfortingly, "it will take time. His health has already improved a great deal in three weeks. I am a firm believer that this also tells us a lot about his state of mind."
A high-pitched scream interrupted them; immediately, both Albus and Minerva were on their feet. Pomona gasped. Huge tentacles had broken through the lake's surface, very close to the riverbank; they stood several meters high above Severus. The boy had not moved, and his mouth hung open. No one made a movement. But Albus's hand, buried inside one of his pockets, was holding his wand firmly: the Squid was known to be docile, but he would take no risk, and he knew just the spell to make him retreat into the lake without any harm.
"Severus", Hagrid told the boy, casting a reassuring glance at their audience, "show him yer plushie. I reckon he'll like it."
Slowly, and with remarkable calmness for a child so young, Severus retrieved the soft toy from behind his back. He hesitated; then, holding it up above his head, he shouted:
"Look - just like you!"
Ironically, it was now the Squid's turn to hesitate, though only for a moment. After a few seconds, a tentacle slowly came down to Severus' level, wrapping itself around the toy and pulling it from his hands. Minerva grew tense, fearing that the boy might start crying, but he remained perfectly still, looking at the giant animal with curiosity. Several other tentacles started palpating the toy, and it remained suspended in the air for a good minute; then, gently, it was lowered down again into Severus' open arms, who welcomed it with a giggle.
"Told ye he'd like it", Hagrid commented as the squid disappeared below the surface, leaving only Severus' small boat tossed around like a bottle stopper out in the middle of the sea.
Minerva ran towards the child. It was silly. She shouldn't have been scared – and yet -
"You are such a brave boy!" she told him with delight.
"Hagrid was not scared, so I wasn't", Severus told her as means of explanation. He was beaming.
"Very wise, Severus", Filius commented. "Hagrid knows a lot about all the animals here."
Minerva raised an eyebrow.
The boat kept Severus busy for another hour, then, when he yawned, Albus proposed to take him back to the castle. Minerva would pick him up at his office on her way back. She looked at them walk away with apprehension – then her colleagues left one at a time until it was only her and Poppy left in the park. She savoured the moment, although a bit guiltily. Severus was by no means a burden: every day she loved him more, every day she marveled at her own ability to cherish someone so deeply. But she felt anxious; she felt anxious at the thought of tucking him to bed, of leaving him to go to her own room afterwards. What if he cried and she did not hear? What if he was scared and she did not see? She had seen nothing for a whole year. It was too much pressure – too much to handle. She needed a few more minutes.
"You and Albus – it is not getting better, is it?" Poppy asked, breaking the silence. It was getting chilly.
"You saw, Poppy. Need I tell more?"
"No. But a question seemed the most tactful way to introduce the subject."
"I am... I am mad at him." Minerva paused. "Furious, in fact. But who am I to be? He practically set Severus up to die – I tried to kill him too. I cannot be angry with him. I have no legitimacy – I am as bad as he is. And every time I see him, I think about it again."
Poppy nodded.
"I think about it too, every time I see Severus. We all do. The fault is collective."
"But Albus -" Minerva brutally put down her teacup - "Albus rationalises everything. Coldly, meticulously, like he always does. To protect himself too, I know. And he's right – things could not have been handled any different. Severus knew it, too. He accepted it. He was no victim – not completely. But when you look further back… Albus used him. Always."
Poppy did not answer.
"I failed him", Minerva spoke again, her voice trembling slightly. "Countless times. But I never used him."
The nurse lowered her gaze.
"You think Albus uses him, still?"
Minerva glanced back at the castle.
"I think, in his twisted kind of way… that this is how he loves."
Another pause.
"Then you will only let him near the boy on your own terms, Minerva. Only."
"It's time to sleep, dear. Did you have a good day?"
Severus put the cover up to his nose.
"Does the Giant Squid like cupcakes?" he asked sleepily.
Minerva smiled, stroking his hair.
"He might. I know he likes toasts."
"Can we go see him again?"
"Of course. Whenever you like."
Though his eyes were half-closed, Severus was looking at her still.
"Why are you sad, Minerva?" he whispered, his face still half hidden under the blanket.
Her right hand, which was about to stroke his hair again, stopped mid-movement.
"Why do you think I'm sad, Severus?" she replied, peering at him over her glasses.
"I know it, that's all", the boy whispered.
Minerva sighed, resuming her movement.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I'm just missing a friend."
"I miss my mum, Minerva."
"I know. So you know how I feel."
The boy nodded feebly.
"Don't be sad, Minerva. Tha... tha gaol agam ort."
She had told him this countless times, but it was the first time he had said it back – his first full Gaelic sentence. She closed her eyes, and a lonely tear escaped them, falling right onto the boy's raven hair.
"Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd, Severus", she whispered. "A-chaoidh."