The Rest Of The Day
“Harry, lovely, time to wake up.” Harry finally comprehended the words after they were spoken to his awake body a few times, after who knows how long while asleep.
“Wake?” His voice was scratchy, throat dry, and he found himself near tears in desperate want for his chocolate milk.
“Yeah, awake time.”
“Why?” Sleeping was more fun.
“It’s 12:00, it’s lunchtime.”
“Oh.” Harry sat up, rubbing roughly at his eyes to try and feel a little more alive, but it didn’t really work. He could easily sleep for much longer. “Milk?”
“Yeah, you can finish your chocolate milk with your food.”
“Food?”
“I made us some turkey sandwiches and chips.”
“Oh.”
“Come on.” Hermione offered a hand a beat later, realizing he would need help making his way to the kitchen.
Harry agreeably stood, taking her hand, but whined once he was in an upright position. Hermione went to ask what was wrong, before figuring it out for himself.
“Do you need the toilet?”
He thought for a second before. “Please.”
“Of course, honey, you don’t have to ask.” Hermione assured, walking him to the bathroom connected to the living room, grateful it was there because she wasn’t sure how long Harry would last. “Do you need help?”
He seemed unsure, but eventually said he could do it himself, so Hermione let him be, though not before reminding him to wash his hands afterwards.
Despite both of their anxiety about it, Harry came out a minute or so later, his shirt only slightly drenched in water, hopefully from the sink.
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you flush?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you ready to eat?”
“Yeah.” Harry said for the third time, each accompanying nod becoming less and less enthusiastic.
Hermione took him to the table where his sippy cup was already sitting in front of his plate, and began watching him eat as she tried to figure out how to address this conversation.
“Harry, honey?”
“Yeah?”
How in the world to say this? “How old are you, baby?”
Harry unthinkingly held up the three middle fingers on his right hand before realizing what he’d done, and dropping his sandwich out of a mix of fear and shame. “T-twenty.” He tried to amend, but Hermione had already seen the truth.
She decided to ignore what he said, just focusing on the fingers, while trying to remain calm and unthreatening. “You’re three?”
“N-no! I’m twenty.” As the seconds ticked on he slumped farther down his chair, wondering what the woman would do if he fell to the ground and ran away now. He was fast, had always been fast, he could escape.
But, for how long?
“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re not three?”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Of course not!” Hermione made her voice higher, in faux-shock, just like she did when Teddy claimed to not be a baby. “Three is quite big. Definitely not a baby.”
Harry finished falling, sitting cross-legged under the table. “I’m a big boy.”
“Very big.” She agreed. “Except, there’s just one problem.”
“What is it?” He easily took the bait.
“I can’t see you. You’re all hidden under the table.”
“So?”
“Well, then, how can I be sure?”
“Be sure?”
“That you’re a big boy. Last time I saw you you were a big boy, but that was seconds ago, maybe even a minute. How do I know you’re not a big boy anymore?”
“I am!”
“I don’t know.”
“I am!”
“Maybe you are, but maybe….”
Harry quickly stood, almost hitting his head on the table, in an effort to prove he was not a baby. “See, big!”
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded enthusiastically. “You are a big boy.”
“I told you!”
“You sure did. But, you’ll have to stay out from beneath the table so I know you stay that way.”
Harry pouted. “How can I stay big?”
“Well, you still have half-a-sandwich, a few chips, and a little bit of milk left, so that should help. Do you think you can finish your food? Or is your tummy full?”
“I can finish!”
“Don’t eat too fast.” Hermione warned when he started acting like he was winning a food eating contest. “You’ll get sick.”
Harry slowed, but didn’t stop, finishing his meal about three minutes later, Hermione not too long after.
“Alright, love, now that lunch is over, what do you want to do?”
“No leave?”
“I’m not leaving. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” Hermione assured, gently petting his hair after being given permission.
“I’m sleepy.”
“Poor baby; you’ve been tired all day, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you’re sick?”
“No!” Harry pulled away aggressively, but soon leaned back towards her for more comfort. “Not sick.”
“I guess it’s just because this is the first day you’ve been able to completely relax…ever.”
Harry didn’t know how to respond, so just guided her to the couch and crawled into her lap. “Hold me.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll hold you.”
They sat there in silence for a while until Hermione thought he was asleep, but then he proved her wrong by talking. “Do you really love me?”
“Of course, pumpkin. You’re my little brother. How could I not love you?”
“I love you too, Mia.” And then he was asleep.