"And are these measures working?"
"Yesterday, Filch practically flung himself at Fang rather than let the dog knock Harry down." Severus smiled at the memory. "Yes. I believe they are."
A few minutes later, Molly broke the silence again. Harry never talked so constantly; another thing he liked about the boy -- he knew when to be quiet. "I heard --" no doubt from her nosy children "--that you are having Lucius Malfoy's son here for Easter."
She had not made it a question, so Severus decided not to answer. Alas, she realized her error and added a minute later, "Won't having two boys be a bit of a handful? If having just one makes it hard to be alone . . ."
She was, not particularly skillfully, angling for him to bring Harry to the Burrow again, and to perhaps leave him there for a day, or even an afternoon, for his education or her peace of mind or something. She could not understand why neither Harry nor he wished to do that, and had pestered him about it all winter. He had turned her offer down each time.
Still, recalling the last time Draco had spent a week with them -- over the Christmas holidays -- and the subsequent mopping up, both figurative and literal, he and the rest of the staff had needed to do, he nodded grimly. "But Harry seems to enjoy it." And he hoped to encourage Harry to sleep in his own bedroom, with Draco, this time.
Molly laughed softly. "You'll find you do more and more of that as they grow older."
"What, have friends over?"
"That, too. But just in general, doing things your children fancy, which you mightn't want to undertake yourself."
It was true already, Severus mused. From letting Harry have a kneazle to buying him a new broom after the squid ate his first one, to having Draco Malfoy sleep under his roof, to eating fudge sundaes, there were many things he did only because he knew Harry would like them.
"What's that?" she asked a few minutes later, pointing to the letter crushed in his hand.
"A letter."
"Oh? Who from?"
"Someone with a modicum of proper manners."
Molly smiled knowingly. "I heard you'd received something from Sirius Black recently."
"Not that it is any of your business," he snarled, crushing the letter even more in a clenched fist, "but this is not from Black."
"Ah. I thought maybe it was, because of the way you're squishing it so."
Caught out, Severus relaxed his hold. The sender was nearly as vexing as Black, but it would do no good to tell her any--
"Is it from Remus Lupin then? I understand he is back in the area."
There was little Severus detested more than a gossip, and Molly Weasley was one of the worst. But she had helped him with Harry as much as she could, and he was grateful enough for that to not strangle her in the open in front of her children. But she "understood" or "heard" too bloody much! And she would keep pecking at him until he gave in, he knew it. "Yes," he told her at last. Through gritted teeth, he continued, "He wishes to see Harry."
"And you don't want him to."
"Obviously not!"
She gave him a piercing gaze, and if Severus had not been positive she wasn't, he would have sworn she was attempting wordless Legilimency on him. But even her "understands" and "heards" would not have sussed out Severus' objection . . . unless Albus had been more free with others' secrets recently than he had been ten years ago, when Lupin had almost killed Severus, with Black's help, on a full moon. Only he, Albus, James Potter and his Marauders and a select few of Lupin's family knew that he was a werewolf, and though Severus would have loved to shout the information from the highest tower at Hogwarts, he was constrained by the promise he had made to Albus.
"Because he and Black were friends?" Molly guessed.
"Indeed." It was certainly a factor of the whole.
"It's your right, of course. Even if Black is a free man--"
"He's still at St. Mungo's!" And would be for the foreseeable future, unless he started behaving much more sanely. Azkaban had been bad for him, no matter how good he was at avoiding the Dementors.
"I meant free from Azkaban, and from his guilt in the matter of Lily and James. Even so, Harry is your son, and you can decide who he sees."
"Yes. I know."
Like everyone else in England, it seemed, Molly and the rest of the Weasleys had learned that Severus was Harry's biological father when Black had insisted on a paternity test before he would give up his rights to visit Harry and have a say in his education. The news had spread like Fiendfyre, and all sorts of tawdry stories had been written in The Prophet about Severus and his relationship with Lily, none of which he let Harry see.
But that Harry was now officially his son was perhaps the sole benefit of the whole mess, from Black's escape to his commitment to St. Mungo's. Even the Ministry knew now. Cornelius Fudge could not put his hands on Harry, and neither could Black, even if he was still legally Harry's godfather. He could not force Severus to bring Harry to see him.
Severus had promised that, if Harry wanted, he would let the boy see Black. So far, Harry had not shown the slightest inclination to do so, which suited Severus just fine.
But now, this letter from Lupin. He wondered what the werewolf wanted, in truth. What was he playing at, to suddenly emerge from the woodwork after six years of conspicuous absence? What was his angle?
It vexed Severus that he could not tell, from the letter, what Lupin really wanted. He doubted very much it was merely about renewing his relationship with Lily's son -- at least he had done the courtesy of not claiming Harry to be Potter's son. Yes, it was vexing, and Severus had several cutting remarks to send back by way of reply, starting with, "You mangy cur . . ."
He sighed.
"You told Harry he could decide whether to see Black or not." Molly's words, so close upon the heels of his thoughts, made him twitch.
"So I did."
"Has he asked to?"
"Would you ask to go see your kidnapper? A man who terrorized you and stole you from your home?"
Twin blotches of pink appeared on Molly's cheeks. "Has he?"
"If he had, I would have taken him to see that mangy mutt."
A tiny smile played on her lips. "You wouldn't have tried to talk him out of it? Suggested, perhaps, he put off such a trip for a week or a year?"
She knew him too well. It was exactly what he planned to do if Harry asked. "The subject has not come up."
"Lucky for you."
He raised an eyebrow in her direction. Harry was traumatized by that man so badly he has spent the last six months clinging to me like a limpet. I daresay 'luck' has naught to do with it."
Chastised, Molly's coloring darkened. "No, of course not."
"I will do whatever it takes to make Harry happy, to make sure he is cared for and to keep him from being hurt again. I will protect him and make sure nothing comes between us again. Ever."
Red-faced and panting from exertion, Harry chose that moment to come running up to him. He threw his arms around his father and buried his wind-chilled face in Severus' warm robes. With hands under Harry's armpits, Severus swiftly lifted him into the air, then pulled him in for a hug as Harry grinned. "Did you see me, Dad? Did you see me jump over Fang when he was starting to get up?"
"Of course, my little Seeker. You've got some good muscles there; maybe you should go for Beater?"
Harry laughed and shook his head. Beaming as Severus kissed his brow quickly, he squirmed until Severus set him down so he could go running off to his friends again.
Harry was his world. He was everything to him. The world be damned if anyone dared mess with them again.
Finis
Author's Note: I have not yet written a Harry's First Real Christmas interlude for the Whelp series, but I might be persuaded to do so . . .
With this extra long Chapter + Epilogue, Whelp II is done! For all who read and review, a heartfelt thanks & super snuggly hugs from Li'l Harry for coming along for the ride! I'll start Part Three in the next month or so. I'll be doing some work on my other two main stories first.