Resolution Chapter 86 - Scene 8
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Candide hummed a song that played every hour on the Wizard Wireless as she wrestled Arcadius into clean babygro pyjamas. Arcadius bunched his hands up and put them through the wrong openings, then giggled when the garment was pulled free again. Harry wondered that he wasn't cold with his bare skin.
The Floo flared and Snape stepped into the main hall. Harry watched him approach, feeling nervously pleased to see him.
"Maybe daddy can dress you," Candide said happily. She held the baby and the tangled pyjamas up. "I'd love to see him try."
"Da!" Arcadius shouted. Harry felt the shout in his gut.
"I shall defer to the expert," Snape said, patting a raised Arcadius on the head before continuing across the room to sit beside Harry.
Snape's gaze was piercing, but his voice was conversational. "How did your training go this week?"
"Good. Reading's a lot easier." It was true. After burying himself in obscure grimoires for weeks, his assigned reading was a cinch.
Snape hesitated, and Harry sensed he had answered the wrong question.
Harry added, "I think I'm good for now with the Ministry."
Snape nodded. "How are you?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Candide look up sharply.
There had been moments where Harry hadn't known himself, but they had passed quickly enough. And he didn't mind at all suffering for what he'd gained.
"I'm good. I wouldn't change anything." He said this mostly to deflect the question, but his answer felt true to the depths of him. There was nothing that needed changing, nothing he would wish for in another universe.
He drew in a long breath to test if his chest was really as tight as it felt. It wasn't. The nervous excitement burning in him felt alien, but alive.
"No regrets?"
Harry decided that Snape, as usual, knew more than Harry himself, and wasn't so much asking as forcing Harry to think more. Harry did wonder why he felt so nervous. There was no reason for it.
Snape rested a hand on his arm. His expression implied this should be a clue.
"Suze." It just slipped out. Harry understood then that he had copied her emotions, including those for his guardian. No wonder she acted so jumpy around her Head of House. Harry stifled a laugh. "I've become a silly school girl," he said. He put his hands to his cheeks which he could feel were reddening. "It will pass. Right?"
Snape treated this soberly. "I expect."
Candide glanced back and forth between them. "Archie, they've invented a new language. We're doomed."
Snape stood and approached them. "It is the language of preserving Harry's pride. So pay no heed." He took up Arcadius who was still only half wearing his pyjamas. The pale yellow sleeves trailed over Snape's robe. Arcadius grabbed at the robe fabric and tugged, making little engine noises. Snape combed his fine black hair back but the baby didn't seem to notice.
Candide said, "Are you going to dress him, or should I look up a spell?"
Snape continued to push back Arcadius' hair. "I think we should avoid using any spells upon him for the foreseeable future."
"We're going to change his nappies by hand forever? That's medieval."
Snape sat beside her with the bare-chested baby on his knee. He slipped a hand around one pudgy wrist and stealthily raised a sleeve hole toward it. Arcadius clapped his hands and rocked backward, kicking his feet. Snape started again with Arcadius in a reclined position.
Harry closed his books and put them aside to sit back, arms around himself, not because he was cold but because he wanted to hold all of this inside him. There could be no other place, no other reality, better than this one.
* * *
Candide hummed a song that played every hour on the Wizard Wireless as she wrestled Arcadius into clean babygro pyjamas. Arcadius bunched his hands up and put them through the wrong openings, then giggled when the garment was pulled free again. Harry wondered that he wasn't cold with his bare skin.
The Floo flared and Snape stepped into the main hall. Harry watched him approach, feeling nervously pleased to see him.
"Maybe daddy can dress you," Candide said happily. She held the baby and the tangled pyjamas up. "I'd love to see him try."
"Da!" Arcadius shouted. Harry felt the shout in his gut.
"I shall defer to the expert," Snape said, patting a raised Arcadius on the head before continuing across the room to sit beside Harry.
Snape's gaze was piercing, but his voice was conversational. "How did your training go this week?"
"Good. Reading's a lot easier." It was true. After burying himself in obscure grimoires for weeks, his assigned reading was a cinch.
Snape hesitated, and Harry sensed he had answered the wrong question.
Harry added, "I think I'm good for now with the Ministry."
Snape nodded. "How are you?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Candide look up sharply.
There had been moments where Harry hadn't known himself, but they had passed quickly enough. And he didn't mind at all suffering for what he'd gained.
"I'm good. I wouldn't change anything." He said this mostly to deflect the question, but his answer felt true to the depths of him. There was nothing that needed changing, nothing he would wish for in another universe.
He drew in a long breath to test if his chest was really as tight as it felt. It wasn't. The nervous excitement burning in him felt alien, but alive.
"No regrets?"
Harry decided that Snape, as usual, knew more than Harry himself, and wasn't so much asking as forcing Harry to think more. Harry did wonder why he felt so nervous. There was no reason for it.
Snape rested a hand on his arm. His expression implied this should be a clue.
"Suze." It just slipped out. Harry understood then that he had copied her emotions, including those for his guardian. No wonder she acted so jumpy around her Head of House. Harry stifled a laugh. "I've become a silly school girl," he said. He put his hands to his cheeks which he could feel were reddening. "It will pass. Right?"
Snape treated this soberly. "I expect."
Candide glanced back and forth between them. "Archie, they've invented a new language. We're doomed."
Snape stood and approached them. "It is the language of preserving Harry's pride. So pay no heed." He took up Arcadius who was still only half wearing his pyjamas. The pale yellow sleeves trailed over Snape's robe. Arcadius grabbed at the robe fabric and tugged, making little engine noises. Snape combed his fine black hair back but the baby didn't seem to notice.
Candide said, "Are you going to dress him, or should I look up a spell?"
Snape continued to push back Arcadius' hair. "I think we should avoid using any spells upon him for the foreseeable future."
"We're going to change his nappies by hand forever? That's medieval."
Snape sat beside her with the bare-chested baby on his knee. He slipped a hand around one pudgy wrist and stealthily raised a sleeve hole toward it. Arcadius clapped his hands and rocked backward, kicking his feet. Snape started again with Arcadius in a reclined position.
Harry closed his books and put them aside to sit back, arms around himself, not because he was cold but because he wanted to hold all of this inside him. There could be no other place, no other reality, better than this one.
* * *