The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 36: Brandon Hadrian Snape

The next day, Harry had recovered enough strength to stand up and take himself to the loo, but not enough to digest solid food, or else his stomach would revolt against the sudden and very unwelcomed intrusion on his still sensitive body. Severus continued to keep vigil, and Harry had taken advantage of the situation to invite himself into the fold of his Papa's arms and find himself sleeping throughout the day with Snape by his side. He obediently downed each potion and submitted himself to being smothered as he lay on his stomach while his Papa applied salve and Murtlap Essence on his bruises and still healing cuts.

On the second day, however, Harry was dismayed to be visited by none other than the esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Harry just had his usual afternoon snack of apple and was propped up on pillows, one of his ornament books opened at his lap. He was trying to memorise the Latin incantation needed for making a moving ornament, and was having quite a peaceful day of well-deserved rest.

"Ah, our brave young wizard!" The Headmaster swept inside Harry's room, his Papa following close behind. Harry looked up from his book and mustered all his self-control not to be rude enough to drive their 'visitors' away, "How are you, Bran?"

Harry glared at the old wizard, not even flinching or backing down when his father sent him a reprimanding look, "It's Harry, sir," Harry said, raising his chin defiantly. No way would he ever allow Dumbledore to have his way again, "After all, I am not to be a Potter anymore. Or even a Dursely."

At this, Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes darted to Snape, and Severus met the gaze with feigned stoicism, "And? When will you tell me of this development, Severus?"

"I know by some point that I would have to tell you, Headmaster," Severus answered, determination evident, "but I had to take care of matters of more importance. Surely, you won't deny me of this?"

Albus, to both father and son's surprise, only shrugged, and leaned in on Harry's bed to offer him a tin of lemon drops.

Harry eyed the tin with suspicion written in his green eyes.

At the look on the young man's eyes, Albus laughed good naturedly, "The Slytherin vigilance. Ah, always a good trait to possess. My, my, Severus, you hold such an influence over young Mister... Harry here," at least this time, Harry relaxed a bit as Albus Dumbledore seem to have recognised and honoured his preference, "and may I congratulate you for it?"

"Albus?!" It was the Gryffindor Head of House, clearly aghast, "does this mean-"

This was what Harry hated about Gryffindors; they were always slow to pick up on things. Thick mules to the core.

"I believe Harry has earned the right to make choices for himself, Minerva. I believe we should get going now. Severus," his Papa tilted his head and nodded, "we shall show ourselves to the Floo. Thank you for the tea, and for allowing us to visit you and the young man," Dumbledore gestured towards Harry, "Harry, my boy, do take good care of yourself."

Before their guests had turned their backs, however, Harry voiced out the question he had since that fateful day, "Sir, may I ask what had happened to Voldemort?"

At the sudden question, Harry saw his Papa flinch, perhaps out of fear or recognition, but the sudden snap of the adults' attention towards Harry was something that made him feel like he was so small all of a sudden. The bravado he had a few moments before evaporated into thin air.

Severus cleared his throat, "Harry, child-"

But Albus raised a hand gently, cutting his Papa's admonition. Harry looked down and bit his lower lip, his feet fidgeting under the duvet.