Whelp

Relaxed enough that he barely struggled, Harry was soothed by the low voice he recognized as his father's, telling him to shush, and that he was safe, and no one was going to hurt him. Though wanting to believe, Harry still pulled away until a gentle hand touched his hair and carded fingers thought it. The feeling touched something deep inside his chest, and he leaned into the touch like a cat. Another hand drew his head down to rest on a cloth covered chest, and he could hear his father's heart beat through the robe. As long as he could hear that sound, he was safe. He rested one of his own hands on his father's chest, too, and could feel the heart beat, and he took a low, shuddering breath. His father's arms encircled him and held him close.

The murmuring voices continued, but he was too tired to follow them much. '. . . be a problem?' his father asked. His voice rumbled in his chest, and Harry could feel it against his cheek.

'Not at all. . . . very discreet.'

'. . . won't let . . . interference.'

'. . . understand . . . take him . . . Hogwarts?'

'End of the week. . . . clothes and . . . used to magic.'

Harry squirmed in his father's arms, feeling suddenly alarmed, but too lethargic to rouse more than that. He gentle hand returned and smoothed over his forehead, and his father's voice murmured his name, and he relaxed again.

'. . . anxious, you see? . . . relatives told him . . .'

'. . . over it, I daresay. . . '

The voices went on, but Harry had succumbed completely to sleep, feeling truly safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

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Some time later, Albus rose to leave, and Severus got up with him, the boy still in his arms.

'He looks comfortable,' said the Headmaster, with a fond look at the boy.

Severus rearranged the boy on his hip -- and how had he realized immediately that it would be easier to carry him thus? -- and cupped the back of the boy's head with his hand as the boy nestled his head in where Severus' neck met his shoulder. Harry's warm breaths whispered against his skin. 'I'll have to wake him soon, or he'll be up all night.'

Albus looked doubtful. 'From all appearances, he could use a great deal more rest than he's recently acquired.'

Severus frowned down at the thin body as his fingers combed through the soft, raven-black hair. It was long enough in the back to cover the neck, and would require a tie soon. Had James had long hair? No. Just that mussed, untamed mop. This hair was more like his own. Would the blood ritual work that fast? 'He didn't sleep well last night, I don't think.' Neither of them had.

'Did you have him under monitor?'

'No. Not last night.'

'Give it a try tonight, then,' Albus suggested. 'It may be that the unfamiliarity of a new room makes him too nervous to relax well.'

Severus nodded and Albus left a few minutes later. Madam Collin had gone hours ago, to file the adoption papers. He really hoped she would not make an issue of the marks she'd seen on Harry's body, or his odd behavior at dinner when he seemed to think he would not be fed. Dumbledore was certain she would not, but Severus was not as trusting as his mentor.

Regardless, it was done. No one could take the boy from him now.

He carried the boy upstairs, removed his shoes, socks, robe and tie, leaving him in trousers and shirt, then covered him with a light quilt, planning to wake him in an hour or two for some supper. Then perhaps he would show Harry the rest of the house, and they could relax a while before bedtime. In the meantime, he could work in his study on some lesson plans he'd been considering for his upper level classes.

Harry had other ideas, apparently, and woke twenty minutes later, screaming.

TBC . . .

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A/N: Lookee! More than 200 reviews! I'm really grateful to everyone who reads and reviews. Here's some chocolate! Next chapter by Wednesday.

*Chapter 12*: Chapter 12

Whelp – Chapter 12

By jharad17

A/N at end

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was mine, never will be mine, alas.

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Harry had other ideas, apparently, and woke twenty minutes later, screaming.

The scream cut off before Severus was half out of his chair. He bolted upstairs, almost frantic now. Surely the boy was dead, or maimed or . . . He hurtled through the door to the boy's bedroom and stopped dead. The boy's mouth was open in a scream, his body rigid, eyes screwed shut, and fists tight against his sides, but Severus could hear nothing. Absolute silence.