gone down the hill to play instead of staying within grabbing distance of his father.
'He keeps one eye on me at all times.'
Molly nodded. 'Soon enough he'll look away. I know it's been taxing. . . .'
Severus made a sound that, from anyone else, might have been called a snort. 'You have no idea.'
Molly corrected him immediately. 'I have seven children, Severus. Seven. I rarely get to use the loo alone, never mind have time to read or create potions. If one of my lot doesn't need me, it's a fair bet one or more of the other six does. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't surrounded at all times--'
'Maybe that works for you,' Severus snapped, 'but I am a solitary man. I lead a solitary life--'
'Not anymore.' Her gaze was on the children and, as if on cue, four heads of red hair and one of black turned towards them, and all the children waved.
All the fight washed out of Severus. Molly was right. 'No. Not anymore.'
'Do you wish it were different?'
Instead of snapping at her again, Severus thought back over the last half year or so, from when he had rescued Harry from the Dursleys to when he'd discovered (for the second time) that his son was a Parselmouth, to seeing him fly on his broom, to the incident with the Squid. To more recent events, like Harry's first Christmas, to the thousand times he might have wanted a bit of privacy or more sleep or less noise, but knew that Harry needed him more. To Harry's questions about Sirius Black, (some of which he had referred to Dumbledore, unable to answer with anything less than the bile-laced vitriol Black deserved) and what it would mean to them, now that Black had been exonerated, cleared of any wrongdoing in the deaths of Lily and James Potter.
Harry was a very curious child, Severus was learning, though only recently had he begun asking questions, something he had never been allowed at the Dursleys. He was also very bright. He learned quickly from listening to Severus talk, and now that he was reading at above his grade level, he seemed to get immense enjoyment from books. When given half a chance, Harry could be affectionate as well, occasionally touching his father's hand or leaning into a hug, and his smile could light up the room.
No. Severus would not trade his experiences with his son for one minute of a solitary life. Never.
Molly must have read that determination in his expression because she merely smiled and continued to watch their children in some intricately concocted game of tag. Then something -- or someone -- caught her eye.
'Why is that hateful man spying on our children?' She pointed, and Severus followed the direction of her finger to find Argus Filch standing less than fifty yards away.
'Ah.' Severus let the fire of just retribution warm his belly. 'We have taken measures --' a Fidelity Potion '-- to insure he will protect my son and never harm him in any way.'
And when, in another six months, the potion wore off, they would reassess its needfulness. Harry was still uncomfortable around the dirty, despicable man, but now that he knew magic protected him, at least he was no longer petrified by the squib.
'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
