'Yes, Father,' came the soft words, and he knew Harry was putting on his brave face.
With a sigh, he smoothed Harry's hair down again, and then patted his back once, still reluctant to leave. 'Have you been to visit Hagrid yet?'
'Oh! Oh, no!' Harry looked down at Treacle Tart, and then back at his father. 'I forgot, with lessons and all . . . M'sorry, Tree!' The kneazle in question rose onto her back legs and stretched up to put front paws on Harry's leg. He petted her head, and scratched behind her ears, but he still looked stricken.
Severus murmured, 'I'm sure she'll be fine for a little bit. She had a good sized breakfast. See if you can't visit Hagrid this afternoon, though.'
'Yes, Father. As soon as I can.'
'Good.' He looked at Molly, and assumed the blankest expression he could muster. 'Will you be working in here this afternoon?'
'Oh, no, Severus. Albus has kindly granted us permission to use an empty classroom.' She grinned. 'Don't worry, your abode will be safe from this horde.'
He very much doubted that, but all he said was, 'Ah. Good.' He really did have to go, though, as those papers would hardly correct themselves, so he told Harry once more that he would see him at dinner, and then left the boy at the table. He could feel Harry's gaze tracking him until the door to their quarters was closed behind him.
---
Mrs. Weasley let everyone finish their pudding and then had them wash faces and hands again before leading them up out of the dungeons to a classroom on the second floor. Harry had never been in this one before – he had done some 'sploring with Draco, and then with Ron and Charlie, but he hadn't gone into
Harry was still not all that used to magic, and so he gaped at the tables, not sure they wouldn't change back immediately.
Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. 'That's called Transfiguration, Harry dear. You'll learn how to do that when you attend Hogwarts as a student.'
'Mum's a whiz at it,' Fred said.
'Got top marks at school,' added George.
'Just ask her.'
'All right, you two,' Mrs. Weasley said with a laugh, 'that's enough. Come and sit at the tables. Fred and George at one, Ron, Ginny and Harry at the other. We're going to practice writing now. Harry, dear,' she started as the children scrambled to obey, though Fred and George seemed to take three times as long to actually sit down, even if they were moving their bodies just as fast as everyone else. Harry ended up on the far end of the table, with Ron in the middle, and Ginny on her brother's other side, next to the twins' table. Mrs. Weasley stood right beside Harry as she continued, 'How much writing have you done?'
Harry bit his lip. Father had not had very much time to work on his writing; they were still trying to get him used to using a quill and ink instead of a pencil. And even when he had been in school in Surrey, he had not done very much writing, for the same reasons he hadn't learnt much reading. 'I can do my name,' he said softly. He probably could.
'Excellent. We'll have you work on that then, dear, and learning other letters today, all right?'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'Good, good.' She placed a piece of parchment, which was finer and smoother than any paper, in front of him, along with a small, stoppered bottle of ink and a feathery quill. She did the same for Ginny and Ron, giving them instructions on what they were supposed to write, and then went to the twins' table. They were fiddling with something that vanished in a flash of green and gold when she reached their table.
