Whelp

'Mm,' Severus agreed and gestured for Tom to come over now, that they were ready to order. 'We shall have to see.'

---

The next couple days passed in a whirlwind for Harry. He tagged after Dappin and helped her with chores, and even though she said she didn't need him to, she always squeaked happily when she saw him. In the garden, he learned the names of all the flowers and plants, and recited them back to his father at dinner, and made his father give that light twitch of the lips that said he was pleased. During the day, Father was often busy with his own school work, he said, and so Harry played either in the garden or in his room, with the new toys his father had given him, especially the broom!

He loved flying, and only wished he could go higher than the kid's broom let him. He was only allowed a few feet off the ground, but his father said that when he was older, he could ride a bigger broom that went all the way into the sky. He'd see them, Father said, at Hogwarts, where they were going to stay during school.

Father had a lot to say about Hogwarts.

The best times were after dinner, when Father would sit Harry in his lap, in a comfy chair in the library and they looked at books together. Father made a game out of learning letters and sounding them out into words, and every evening before bed, he said Harry was very bright and would be reading on his own in no time. At bedtime, Father would tell Harry a story about the Wizarding world, sometimes about Hogwarts and the kinds of things he could expect there -- like real ghosts! -- and sometimes they were like fairy tales that Miss Egglestrom sometimes read to them in day school, with dragons and giants and monsters in.

He still had nightmares, though, awful ones with the red-eyed snake man and the green light that killed the lady. And others, where he still had the collar on his neck, and then Dudley put him in a cage and poked him with sticks while Piers chanted, 'Dog breath, dog breath,' at him and Uncle Vernon pulled the leash tighter and tighter until he couldn't breathe.

Harry's father never said again that he shouldn't put up the Silencing, and even though Harry did put it up, 'cause he couldn't hardly help it, as it was accident when he was asleep and all, Father always woke him from the terrible dreams and held him close, saying soft things, until he was ready to go back to sleep. Sometimes, he even stayed, sitting on the bed, when Harry'd laid back down, and his hands were gentle as they rubbed circles into his back, or carded through his hair. Harry hardly flinched at all anymore when he did that.

Harry even found a friend, in the garden. A red-banded snake had slithered near him when he was playing Dragon Battle! and its tongue tickled his ankle. He'd asked Father about snakes, and why their tongues flicked out like that, and he'd said they were tasting, so Harry said to the snake, 'What do I taste like?'

The snake's head rose a little bit, and it regarded him with surprise, like the other snake had, back at the Dursleys. 'You sssspeak?' it asked.

Harry didn't take offence this time, and just replied, 'Yes. Aren't there any others who can?'

'Not any more,' the snake said.

'Sorry. Um, my name is Harry. What's yours?'

'Name? That isss a man-thing.' The snake slipped over his new plimsoll that he was only supposed to wear when playing outside, and touched his bare ankle again with its tongue. 'But you may call me Hasssseth.'

'Pleased to meet you, Hasseth,' Harry said, remembering the manners Father had taught him about how to greet people.

'And I, you, Harry.' The snake climbed into a cuff of his new trousers and coiled around his leg. 'You are warm, Harry. And taste of ripe summer.'

Harry didn't know if that was a good thing, or not, but decided if Hasseth liked it, it must be okay. 'You can stay there if you want, and keep warm,' he told the snake. 'But I don't know if I can take you inside.'

'I would not want to be inssside the man-place, Harry. But yesss, you are warm. Thankssss.'

Grinning, Harry went back to his game, occasionally chatting with Hasseth and telling it all about Hogwarts, too.

Faster than he expected, it was time to go to the school.

They took a Floo -- which Father said was not the same as 'Flew, like on your broom,' even if it sounded the same -- like they had when they went to Diagon Alley, the Wizard shopping place. Harry hadn't liked it much when they went through the fireplace, fearing to be burned like had happened a couple times when Aunt Petunia punished him for dropping things in the kitchen. But Father said the fire wasn't hot when the magic powder was thrown in it, and that it was one of the fastest ways for wizards to travel.

Harry didn't tell him that he wasn't really a wizard, and couldn't really do magic, because he didn't want to see the crinkle-eyed look that let him know his father was upset or sad. So he took Father's hand and Floo'd to Hogwarts. He got a mouthful of soot, like he had the last time, and his father waved away the dirt from his clothes with the stick he usually kept up his sleeve, which he called a wand.

They stood in a big room, with all kinds of shiny, spinning things in them, and behind a desk sat Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry hid behind his father's leg, but Father didn't let him do that for long, but put a hand on his shoulder and brought him out to stand in front of him.

'Good morning, Harry,' the Headmaster said.

Harry's father squeezed his shoulder a little, so he looked up at the old man with the funny robe and pointy hat and answered, 'Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir.'

The man smiled and his bright blue eyes sparkled like twin diamonds and held out a tin with candies in it. 'Sherbet lemon, Harry?'

Harry bit his lip and glanced at his father, who inclined his head, so Harry reached out to take one of the candies. 'Thank you, sir,' he said and popped the treat in his mouth. It was very sweet and fizzed on his tongue.