holding him close, wrapping him in as much safety and warmth as he could, while he could.
'I would never leave you, Harry,' he said, now that the boy was probably able to hear him again. 'Never. You're my son, forever and ever, and I'm very sorry I was late.' He pressed a kiss to the top of the boy's head. 'Please believe me, Harry. I will always return for you.'
'O-okay,' came the stuttered acceptance, along with a hard squeeze from Harry's thin arms which had snaked around Severus' neck where he was clinging for dear life.
Nodding once, Severus stood, still holding his son in his arms. 'Molly. Arthur,' he said solemnly and inclined his head. 'I need to ask you an enormous favor.'
TBC . . .
A/N
: My apologies for taking so long to get this new chapter out. What with the new job, doing my taxes and having surgery, amongst various health issues, I've been kinda swamped. But never fear, faithful readers! I will continue to post to this story, tho' the intervals may be longer and the way may be harder, and the road may be long and treacherous, I will prevail! Thanks to all who read and/or review!
Little Harry offers squashy hugs from him and Treacle Tart, for all who persevere with him.
*Chapter 17*: Chapter 17
Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
By jharad17
Chapter Seventeen
Previously:
Harry clung to his father as they stood up together, and managed to stay in his arms, settled on his father's hip. He was never going to let go. Never. Father would never leave him, he'd said, and Harry meant to hold him to that promise.
'Of course, Severus,' Mrs. Weasley said immediately. 'Anything you need.'
Mr. Weasley, who was a tall man, with red hair like his sons, and whose skin got red when he was upset, even if he didn't yell like Uncle Vernon, put a hand on Mrs. Weasley's arm. 'Why don't you let him tell us first, Moll?'
Mrs. Weasley nodded tiredly. 'Of course. Just tell us, Severus.'
Father hugged Harry a little tighter, and his voice sounded odd when he said, 'Sirius Black has escaped.'
The result of those words, which Harry didn't even understand, was immediate. Both of the Weasleys opened their eyes real wide, and Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth with her hand, as if she was going to puke and was trying to hold it in. Harry felt kind of bad for her. She had tried to help him calm down when Father told him he couldn't come back, but he had refused her offers of cakies and other puddings, and games and stories and everything.
Finally, though, he had gone to sleep and only woken up when Father came through the Floo at last. Harry thought, probably, he'd only slept because she had spelled him with her wand, 'cause he never would have stopped waiting for Father otherwise. Father never spelled him; only when he was hurt and needed Healing. But she'd been almost as upset as Harry, he thought, and he felt bad for upsetting her.
And now she was upset again, and Harry didn't know why.
'Oh my,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Did he really,' he continued, and it didn't sound like a question. 'From Azkaban. Goodness.'
'What's Azkaban?' Harry asked.
Father startled and peered at Harry's face, as if he'd forgotten -- though how could he have, with Harry in his arms? -- that Harry was even there.
'Perhaps,' Mrs. Weasley said slowly, 'we should get you something to eat, Harrikins, in the kitchen, while the grownups talk out here.'
Harry paled. 'No,' he begged. 'Father, don't send me 'way. Please?'
After drawing a long breath, Father gave a tiny nod. Harry's stomach unknotted. 'Harry will stay in here, Molly. But Harry, you must understand that what we are going to speak of is very . . . troublesome. It concerns a very bad man who hurt a lot of people, both Wizards and Muggles. We might say things that sound frightening this evening, but I do not want for
'I know you will, Father,' Harry told him.
The skin around Father's eyes crinkled, just a smidge, so Harry knew he was smiling on the inside. Father nearly always smiled just on the inside. 'Very well.' Father sat on a chair near the sofa and settled Harry on his lap. He directed his attention to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again, but his hand rubbed small circles on Harry's back, which was very soothing. Harry leaned against him and held his father's other hand between his own, feeling comforted by the very sense of touch. The Dursleys had never touched him, except when they hurt him, but Father was nothing like them at all.
Father said, 'I've just spent the last three hours with Dumbledore, determining what safety precautions Harry and I must take, to protect him from Black. Hogwarts is, obviously, the safest place for him--' He stopped short
