Harry popped back into the living room of the cottage, Severus's revised instructions clutched in his hand. Running through the room and up the stairs, he stumbled towards Teddy's bedroom and managed to push open the door. He hesitated in the doorway, watching as Kreacher spoon-fed the small child bone broth, and intermittently rubbed his throat in an effort to achieve the swallowing reflex.

"Kreacher," he said, not at all surprised that he sounded out of breath, and crossed the room. "I can do that," he told him, and handed over the piece of parchment once the bowl had exchanged hands. "These are preliminary instructions for Teddy's care."

Kreacher blinked. "Who gave Master Harry these instructions?" he asked.

"Master Snape," Harry responded, proceeding to spoon-feed Teddy the broth, and rubbing his throat as Kreacher had done.

Kreacher straightened up then, clutching the parchment in a manner which could only be described as deferential. "Kreacher will do this," he said with a determined nod. "Kreacher respects Master Snape." He turned around and moved to leave the bedroom, presumably to begin the preparations for the tasks on the parchment. "Master Snape will be coming here?" he asked, as he stood in the doorway.

"Yes," Harry told the elf, "in three days to bring Teddy a potion."

"Naturally," Kreacher said, nodding, peering over his shoulder. "Kreacher will help ensure Master Snape's comfort," he said, and cracked out of the room.

Harry turned back to his son, and sighed; tension radiated throughout his body, which had to do with a combination of things, he saw that now. It was stress over Teddy, of course, because he hardly wanted anything bad to happen to his son. But, of course, it also had to do with seeing Snape in Diagon earlier; the man had shared his lunch with him, for Merlin's sake! Not to mention the fact that he had so willingly agreed to help in Teddy's care. Harry knew he would have to make it up to the man, somehow, and wondered if gold would be enough.

"Can't put a price on your wellbeing, Teddy," Harry told him, remembering reading somewhere that it was beneficial to speak to comatose individuals, because, someplace deep inside, they could hear the goings-on around them. "I have enough gold at Gringotts... I mean, more than I ever know what to do with. After the sale of Grimmauld, and purchasing of this house, I more than broke even." He sighed, knowing that this line of conversation likely wouldn't interest his son at all. "I saw Master Snape today."

Of course, there was no response from Teddy.

"He's agreed to aid in your care," Harry continued, feeding him another swallow of bone broth, and painstakingly rubbed his throat afterwards. "He's due to come by in three days, you know. I know that part of your care will include a foul-smelling, or perhaps tasting, potion of some kind, but it cannot be helped. He's the best, you know." He bit his lip, hating how much he sounded like a love-struck schoolgirl. "He liked you, when he met you, you know. I saw it in his face. He liked his Slytherins just fine while he taught at Hogwarts; hated me, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione, because we'd sorted Gryffindor." Harry chuckled in a self-deprecating manner. "I'm sure he thinks you'll be in Slytherin, but I'd still bet my Galleons on Hufflepuff."

Setting down the remains of the bone broth, Harry picked up the pitcher of water beside the bed, and poured a healthy amount into the tumbler beside it. Bringing it to Teddy's lips, he got it into his mouth, and massaged his throat so as he wouldn't choke. Sighing, he set the water aside and took off his outer robes. Even though it was early May, the cloud cover had been constant, and the weather reports called for rain on all sides.

"I know it mustn't feel like it now," Harry said softly, banishing his cloak into his bedroom down the hallway, "but you do look a bit better." He grimaced, taking in the sweaty forehead and hair, and the purple blotches, which had turned partway into pustules already. The skin in between the pustules was as white as snow, although, given the swollen nature of Teddy's face and hands—the only parts of his body you could clearly see—was abysmal. "Well, perhaps not better," Harry amended, "but at least this is running its course."

Harry swallowed, keeping a good eye on Teddy as he sat back in his chair; not much to do now until Kreacher bathed him, and Harry would stand by helplessly, as usual. Perhaps he could get some reading done. He had spent a great deal of time in the library over the last three days, trying and failing to find a proper cure for Teddy. However, most books—the ones that did not bite, anyway—informed him of the abomination of witches and wizards with a creature inheritance, or fantastic abilities such as Metamorphmagus. Shaking his head, he wondered why he'd brought the entire library with him from Grimmauld, despite the fact that Sirius had stipulated that everything in the house now belonged to him.

"Must have your Aunt Hermione sweep through those books again," Harry said, thinking aloud with a smile in his son's direction. "Now that Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur have scoured for books that are too dark, Aunt Hermione can take care of the rude ones." He straightened his shoulders, the tension flowing through his muscles again. "If I needed the Galleons, I'd sell off the ones in Divination, useless subject that it is. Promise me you won't take it at Hogwarts?"

Teddy continued to remain motionless in his bed.

Harry swallowed, never breaking his gaze from his son. "Care of Magical Creatures would be fun for you, I know it. And, since Aunt Luna is apprenticing for Hagrid in her spare time, maybe she'll take it over by the time you're a student." He smiled, thinking that Luna would be in her element as a professor, and it would be good for her and Neville to be so close. "Did you know that Hagrid has an impressive vegetable garden?"

Again, no response.

"Well, one of his favorite things to grow are swedes," Harry said quietly, knowing that he had to talk about something. "The larger ones grown are for livestock, but the smaller ones, we can eat—did you know that?" he asked, not expecting a reply. "Temperate climates are the best places to grow swedes, and examples include North America, and Western Europe; the latter, of course, is where we live." He smiled, knowing that dads had to tell their children stories, so, perhaps, he was doing just that. "There are over thirty different varieties of swede, and the most common ones are the ones with purple tops..."

~*~

The following day, after a surprisingly restful sleep and a long, hot shower, Harry was surprised when his wards acknowledged that someone had arrived onto his property. Knowing that it couldn't have been Snape this soon, he crossed over to the door to answer it himself. It was close to tea time, and Kreacher was upstairs with Teddy, giving him some bone broth. Harry had given Teddy his dinner the night before, and his lunch that day, so he and the ancient house-elf were taking it in turns.

"Ron," Harry said, voice filled with clear relief as he opened the front door, and saw his best friend waiting outside. "Come in. Did you want a cuppa? And Kreacher's made a plethora of biscuits," he said with a smile.

"Sure, mate, that'd be nice," Ron replied, stepping around the door and allowing Harry to shut it behind him. Reaching into his robe as they walked down the hallway and into the farmhouse-style kitchen, he drew something out, before he expanded it with a quick Finite, and handed it over once they'd stepped into the kitchen. "Mum insisted."

"I'll bet she did," Harry said, motioning for Ron to serve himself, and peered into the massive basket Ron had brought. Clearly utilizing wizard space, it was filled with a chicken, lasagna, several loaves of fresh bread, a couple of treacle tarts, a thick and creamy potato leek soup that Harry absolutely loved, a couple of steaks, shepherd's pie, toad in the hole, a roast with roasted potatoes and vegetables, Cornish pasties of all variants, and chicken tikka masala. "Mum's a bit mad, isn't she?" Harry asked, looking up to see that Ron had poured them each a cup of tea, and was sitting at the kitchen table, already devouring some biscuits.

Ron snorted around a biscuit, but mercilessly permitted himself to swallow before answering. "I really mean it when I say, 'Better you than me, mate'," he replied, watching as Harry placed the basket in the cooling cupboard. "Merlin knows what'll happen if Rose ever gets sick."

Harry crossed the room and sat across from Ron at the table. "It'll be nice to focus entirely on getting Teddy well and not have to worry about the cooking..."

"I think that was Mum's analogy," Ron reported with a nod. "Dad sends his love, by the way, and Mum says she'd love to come and sit with Teddy if you ever want her to."

Harry nodded. "I'm sure Teddy would like that," he replied, sipping his tea. "He was a little wary of everyone when the custody was handed over to me, but Mum..." Harry shook his head, the mug warming his hands. "Well, Mum and Dad certainly helped him out."

Ron chuckled. "Well, and so did Uncle Charlie," he replied. "All those stories about Romania were just enough to keep him on the edge of his seat."

"And that army of dragons?" Harry asked, laughing as well, thinking of Charlie giving Teddy a wizarding dragon plush toy every birthday and Christmas, most notably a Hungarian Horntail, which he gave him first, for obvious reasons. "Now Teddy assures me that no monsters will pass unscathed through his bedroom..."

Ron lowered his mug, dragging a hand through his hair. "Charlie's taking some time off when summer comes," he said softly. "He's always asking about you, you know..."

Harry swallowed; it had become apparent after the final battle that Charlie had feelings for Harry, and Harry, while not encouraging him, had yet to let him down gently, as such things made him awash with nerves. "I know it would be easier to be with him," he said quietly, and reached for a piece of chocolate-dipped shortbread, "but I can't."

"You don't need to explain it to me, mate," Ron told him gently. "You told me and 'Mione from the start of his feelings for you that you think of him as a brother."

"Which was the same parallel I used when Ginny got feelings for me," Harry replied, sipping at his tea again. "Of course, I only needed to tell Ginny once, and it was fine..."

"I thought you hadn't told Charlie yet?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed. "Not telling him and dropping hints are two totally different things," he told his best friend, and chewed his shortbread. "I just don't want anything to change anymore. Well, I mean, apart from the obvious..."

Ron grinned knowingly at Harry. "Hermione know yet that I figured it out first?" he asked. "I still think it's funny that I found out that you loved Snape before she did..."

"No, and I hardly want to be the one that has that conversation with her," Harry replied with a shudder. "You said it best back in first-year—she's brilliant, but scary."

"You're not married to her," Ron replied with a laugh. "I was convinced that she was going to hex my bollocks off when she was in labor with Rose..."

"She almost did," Harry put in, snorting with laughter, as he had been permitted in the room with the both of them during the delivery. "Luckily they always keep your wand in a secure location during labor..."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Really makes you wonder what happened, to have that regulation put in place," he said.

"Hermione probably knows," Harry told him.

Ron took another swallow of tea, and picked up a ginger newt. "I'm starting to wonder what she doesn't know," came his soft reply.

"Like she'll ever admit to it," Harry said quietly.

Ron shrugged. "Life is full of surprises," he said quietly. "First you're a Horcrux, too, and now Snape's agreed to help you with Teddy..."

Harry nodded. "I was surprised as you were."

Ron smiled across the table at him. "Now you just need to get him to fall in love with you while he's helping cure Teddy."

Harry choked on his tea. "Easier said than done, Ron."

"But you're the Boy Who Lived Twice, the Chosen One," he said, and Harry gave Ron the finger at the use of the nicknames he despised, "you can clearly accomplish anything."

~*~

Harry warmed up Molly Weasley's lasagna that evening, pairing it with one of the loaves of bread, which proved to be garlic. He had spent his day taking Teddy's treatment in turns with Kreacher, as well as writing two letters. The first was to Molly, thanking her for her consideration in keeping him fed, and told her that she could come by on Friday to sit with Teddy for a few hours, as Ron and Hermione had asked him to spend some time with Rose. It was a change of pace when he wrote Snape a letter, telling him not to rush the potion-making process, and wishing him luck in finding a cure for Teddy.

Handing off both letters to his owl, Cadmus, whom he had gotten when he had joined the Auror Department, after six months of training. Cadmus was a dignified-looking northern hawk owl, who was quite by himself in the owl emporium; according to the proprietor, he kept to himself upon a high perch, merely staring at the customers. Harry was the first who he had approached in a willing manner, and the decision was an easy one.

"First to Diagon, and then to the Burrow, please, Cadmus," Harry said gently.

Cadmus straightened his leg, and Harry shrunk the letters down before tying them in place. His yellow eyes radiated intelligence as he swooped towards the open window, before flying among all the tall buildings of Islington, and beyond. It was much warmer that day, so Harry kept the window open slightly, wanting to allow Cadmus easy access back into the study, where his perch was kept. He would likely go hunting afterwards, and Harry didn't want to appear to be a mother hen, so he headed out of the study and down the stairs.

Harry took out his wand and set to work cleaning the living room; Kreacher was busy with Teddy for the moment, and had made his son the top priority, which Harry appreciated. He knew that house-elves enjoyed playing nursemaid to their charges, but he couldn't help but smile each time he saw the care and devotion that Kreacher put into the process. Shaking the thought from his mind, Harry used the Household Spells from the books that Molly had bought him when he had acquired the cottage, and, soon, the living room was presentable again.

Meandering towards the kitchen, Harry made himself a cup of tea; it was midday on Thursday, which left him a few short hours until bedtime, and then another one of Teddy's healing baths, which he had reported to Snape about. Looking through the cooling cupboards, he decided on the toad in the hole for dinner, before taking his tea into the enclosed porch just before the back garden, where Teddy would likely want to play once he was better. Smiling to himself at how carefree Teddy was capable of being, Harry only hoped that his son would be so one day soon. It was a haunting thought, Teddy potentially taking a turn for the worse, but Harry stopped his thoughts before they started completely.

After cleaning the kitchen once he'd finished his tea, Harry warmed his dinner up, but found that he could barely taste it. Giving up, he went upstairs, relieving Kreacher of Teddy duty, and the house-elf wandered into the bathroom to run the child's bath. Harry lifted Teddy once Kreacher had informed him the bath was ready, and spelled off his pajamas into the laundry. Bringing Teddy into the bathroom, he placed him into the healing water, watching as Kreacher painstakingly tended to the little boy.

Harry fell into a dead sleep later that evening, someone managing to sleep through the night. He made himself eggs and toast for breakfast, and greeted Molly around nine in the morning. After she pushed him out of the house, he Apparated to the row house in Cornwall where Ron and Hermione lived with Rose. He smiled as Hermione promptly handed her over, and bustled around the kitchen, wanting to finish getting breakfast ready for everyone.

"Hungry, Harry?" she tossed over her shoulder.

"Already ate," he replied, catching the bottle that Hermione banished toward him, as well as the cloth, which he placed upon his shoulder. Maneuvering himself, as well as his goddaughter, he began to feed her. "Does the ministry not believe in maternity leave?"

Hermione swore at him from under her breath. "Don't pull a Mum Weasley, please," she said threateningly, frying up sausages in one pan, while negotiating what smelled like a mushroom and cheese omelet in the other.

"A what now?" Harry asked.

"She insists that I should've stayed home with Rose for at least six months, but I cannot tear myself away when I'm so close," she said, continuing to cook.

"Morning, mate," Ron said, coming downstairs, and squeezing Harry's shoulder, as well as kissing Rose on her head. "Something smells delicious, 'Mione," he went on, stepping into the kitchen, but didn't go near her.

Hermione sighed as she cooked. "Am I doing a good enough job with Rose?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at her husband.

Ron blinked. "Is this a trick question?"

Hermione looked exasperated. "Just, please answer the question, Ronald."

He gave her a tentative smile. "No mother raises their child exactly alike," he said, and Harry found his best friend's moment of wisdom to be amazing. "Just because Mum thinks one way, doesn't mean she's right."

"She had seven children," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"Doesn't matter," Ron replied. "Rose is wonderful—Draco said so when we brought her in earlier this week," he told her persuasively. "She's meeting all her goals accordingly, and it's not as if she's wanting for social time..."

"But maybe I should take some more time off..."

"Do you want to?"

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Do you want to take more time off?"

Hermione sighed, shoulders deflating. "Not really."

"Good," Ron told her, "then don't. Draco said that, even at this stage, Rose can feel resentment from other people. It wouldn't be good for either of you, trust me."

Hermione smiled at her husband. "You're wonderful," she breathed.

Ron turned red, smiling in a bashful manner. "I certainly try," he said.

Harry chuckled, turning to look down at Rose as Hermione proceeded to plate up both hers and Ron's breakfast. "Your mummy isn't typically this mad," he told her, and Rose stared up at him, her dark blue eyes transfixed as she continued sucking from her bottle. "She just loves her work very much, although not nearly as much as she loves you. You'll understand once you start at Hogwarts, Rose. Hermione'll never let you make anything but O's on your work."

"Hey!" Hermione shouted from the kitchen, and Ron guffawed around his omelet.

Harry said goodbye to the both of them once they left for work, changing Rose as soon as she'd finished her breakfast and been winded. Knowing that Ron and Hermione would want Rose to get some fresh air—and because it was pleasantly warm out—he put her in a stylish little romper and put her inside her pram. Waving at Crookshanks—who wasn't completely used to Rose yet, but had been extremely protective of her already, according to Hermione—he stepped out of the row house and out onto the street.

One positive thing about the row house was that it was located in the charming town of Truro, and was not too far from the city center. Pushing the pram down the lane of houses, he soon arrived at the main street, and could vaguely hear Rose babbling to herself in her pram. Harry knew that, in Muggle children, such things weren't possible until about six months. However, due to their magical cores, growth and development were accelerated somewhat. He just hoped that anyone who saw them wouldn't call attention to it.

"Your little cousin is still in bed," Harry told Rose softly as he maneuvered his way through the early morning crowds of people. "Kreacher is looking after him splendidly, and Snape is going to be making him an antidote." Harry gently pushed Rose down the street; her baby bag was secured to the small shelf behind the pram, filled with nappies and their essentials, two bottles of milk, plus a blanket if it got too cold, a jumper, and an extra pair of socks.

Harry arrived at a small bookshop he'd gone to before, notably when Hermione had announced her pregnancy. He had bought for Rose the complete edition of Beatrix Potter stories, which he knew both his friends read to his goddaughter. The shop was called Waterstones, and all the employees were kind to Harry whenever he came in. Pushing the door open and going inside, he nodded to those he knew, as he wandered into the children's section.

"Hermione will probably bring you here a lot when you get older," he said softly to Rose, parking the pram close to the shelves so as he could get a good look at the titles. There was also a bucket at the back of the pram, which he figured he could fill with anything he decided to buy, and then place his purchases inside it once they were ready to leave. He selected a lovely hardback edition Half Magic by Edward Eager, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, Stuart Little by E.B. White, and James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl for Teddy. He also selected a book of fairy tales for Rose, and saw a lovely dragon plush toy, which would be perfect for Teddy. Finally, he saw a small teddy bear which appeared to have a blanket dangling from her body, which he selected for Rose.

Harry walked towards the register and put up his purchases, chatting amicably with the salesgirl, who cooed when she saw Rose lying in the stroller, now fast asleep. Once the purchases were paid for and everyone was put into a carrier bag, it was the unexpected rustling which awoke Rose, and she wailed. Harry gave the woman an apologetic look and left the bookshop, hurrying down the street to Charlotte's Tearoom, a local haunt which he had discovered with a very pregnant Hermione, which was one of the many reasons why she'd decided to move to Truro with Ron in the first place.

Stepping in, he got a table quickly and sat down, holding Rose securely, relieved that she had not made a mess of her nappy, and instead was feeling peckish. Ordering himself a cup of English breakfast, along with a cheese scone and butter, a chicken and mayonnaise sandwich, and three petit fours to round everything out. Satisfied with himself, Harry removed one of the bottles from the bag, putting a cloth onto his shoulder, and began to feed Rose her own lunch. Rose needed winding just as his tea arrived, and he thanked the woman who had brought it to him, while winding his goddaughter simultaneously, and she gave him an indulgent smile. Harry placed a now-sleepy Rose back into the pram, hoping that she wouldn't need a changing until they were back at the row house.

Lunch was an uneventful affair, and Harry was pleased the Rose stayed quiet long after they'd left the tearoom. It wasn't until they got onto the walk leading up to the front door that she was awake and in tears again, and Harry smelled the smell of a smell nappy. Shaking his head, he opened the door quickly, nearly upsetting Crookshanks in the process, and proceeded to tend to a still-wailing Rose.

"Now, now, princess," Harry said soothingly, getting her out of her pram, while simultaneously kicking the door closed behind him, "I know you're uncomfortable, but just give me a minute to get settled, yeah?" He continued in his manner, heading upstairs to the nursery where the changing table was, and placed Rose down upon it carefully. "All right, let's see about the mess you've made, shall we?" he asked, his tone jovial, as he set to work.

~*~

Harry was relieved to be back at the cottage for the weekend, and had cleared his entire schedule to be on hand if Snape had need of him. He cleaned frantically most of Saturday, in between the times he was looking after Teddy, and, deep down, hoped that his residence would impress the potions master. Once Sunday had arrived, Harry was putting the final preparations onto the roast—not the one Molly had made; he had made this one himself, thank you very much—when he heard the wards registering that of a new wizard on the property.

Casting a Cleaning Charm upon his hands and a Stasis Charm upon the prepared food, Harry made his way down the hallway and towards the front door, his breath getting caught in his throat as he answered it, for Snape looked just as imposing as ever. "Good afternoon," he managed to get out.

Snape smirked down at him. "Good afternoon," he returned, coming inside when Harry had stepped aside and gestured for him to do so.

"You didn't use the Floo," Harry said softly, before he could stop himself.

"I figured out the coordinates myself," Snape told him, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh, all right, fine. Kingsley owed me a favor."

Harry chuckled. "Classic Kings," he said.

Snape raised one eyebrow at the younger man. "Indeed," he responded. "Now, have you and Kreacher followed my instructions in regards to young Teddy?"

Harry smiled, pleased to get down to business; he really wasn't in the mood for small talk anyhow, due to his many preoccupations. "We did," he confirmed, and Snape nodded, reaching into his robes and drawing out a crystal-cut glass bottle.

"I will first explain the ingredients, and then, as I suppose Kreacher is giving young Teddy his luncheon of bone broth," he said, and, at Harry's nod, continued, "we'll set to work on the first administration of the cure. Is that all right with you, Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, that's fine. And please, call me 'Harry'."

"Harry, then," Snape said, "and I suppose it's only right for you to call me 'Severus'."

Harry smiled up at him. "Very well, Severus."

"Good," Severus said. "Anyhow, the ingredients. Crushed up lotus flower so as to assist in the reduction of high temperature. Powdered jasmine, to encourage relaxation of the body, so as to permit the potion to do its job. A syrup made entirely from calendula and chrysanthemum seeds, to reduce the inflammation of the pustules. Fresh scales of a European sea sturgeon, harvested upon the introduction of twilight on a Wednesday, so as to boost mineral and iron production within the body. And, finally, ginger root, chopped haphazardly, to prevent nausea," Severus concluded, and held up the potion, which was an attractive pale blue color, and shimmered dramatically in the light.

"How many doses, then?" Harry asked.

"One today, and we'll see how it goes," Severus told him. "If he shows improvement, he can have one with breakfast and another with dinner tomorrow. But, it's a wait-and-see kind of operation, Harry, so I'll have to use your Floo or Apparate back and forth..."

"Is Blaise competent enough to run the shop?" Harry blurted out, and Severus was quick to raise his eyebrows at him. "I mean, I know he got good marks in potions back in school. But potions class and running a business are two completely different things..."

Severus inclined his head. "Quite," he responded. "In answer to your question, Harry, yes. I have the utmost confidence in Blaise. I should warn you, though," he continued, "he's in a serious relationship with Daphne Greengrass."

Harry laughed aloud then. "Seriously, Blaise isn't my type," he told the older man. "He's the right sex and all, but he's too much of a friend."

"Indeed," Severus said, appearing as if to file that information away for later. "Well," he went on, "yes. Blaise is more than competent to run the shop. Why do you ask?"

"You could stay," Harry offered quietly, and Severus looked shocked at the invitation. "I mean, other than keeping you fed and the prospect of a large handful of Galleons, putting you up would be the least I could do. And besides," he continued, "you'd have a front row seat to any potential issues Teddy has with the potion."

Severus mulled that over. "That I would," he said, nodding. "Very well, Harry. I'll stay," he went on, and Harry gestured for him to follow him up the staircase. "I'll just pop out once the first dose is given and pack a bag."

"Make a list for Kreacher," Harry told him quickly, and gave him a smile. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help. And, really, if something went wrong, I'd much prefer to have you here to help."

Severus nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course," he replied, as they reached the top of the stairs, and stepped into Teddy's bedroom. "Kreacher," the man said, greeting the elf.

Kreacher turned, holding the now-empty bowl of bone broth, and bowed. "Master Snape has arrived to see to Master Teddy?"

"Indeed, Kreacher," Severus said, and moved to stand beside the bed, the potion bottle still clutched in his hand. "I'll just give it to him, then, shall I?"

"Please," Harry said, watching as the man unstoppered the bottle, and opened Teddy's mouth carefully, and tipped its contents down his throat, whilst rubbing his throat. "Kreacher," Harry said to the elf softly, "Severus and I agree that it would be unwise for him to leave Teddy's side just yet."

Kreacher inclined his head. "Master is indeed correct."

"Severus is going to make a list for you," Harry went on. "I want you to go to his flat above his apothecary in Diagon Alley, and pack a bag for him. He'll be staying with us until Teddy is fully on the mend."

Kreacher bowed. "Of course, Master Harry. Shall Kreacher air out the guest bedroom attached to the library?" he asked.

Harry smiled, pleased that the elf would know Severus's bedroom preferences. "Please," he said to the elf.

"Kreacher will prepare at once," he said, and hurried out of the room.

Harry shook his head at the elf's clear excitement about the matter, before finally permitting himself to look down at Teddy, who was shuddering violently at the new sensations that were likely flowing through them. Fear struck a flame within him as he hurried forward, wanting desperately to touch his son, but not wanting to interfere in his treatment. "Is that supposed to happen?" he asked Severus, his voice shaking.

"The ginger root should be kicking in any moment now," Severus explained patiently. "His body is initially trying to reject the combination of unknown substances. Because of this, it will want to vomit up the supposed intrusion. Shouldn't be too long now," he said quietly, deftly stroking Teddy's forehead. Summoning a clean cloth, Severus dipped it into the water beside the bed, and wrapped a healthy-looing cutting of white pine within it, before placing it on Teddy's forehead in a humble manner. "The lotus flower should be counteracting with the ginger root at any moment, so as to bring down the temperature and prevent nausea. Those are likely to be the first things to be remedied, as they are closest to everyday ailments..."

"Thank you," Harry said softly, and Severus looked at him over his shoulder. "For being so understanding and patient, and for explaining things to me. Oh, and, of course, not making me feel like a total dunderhead."

Severus smirked at him. "The day is still young, Potter," he responded, and Harry raised his eyebrows in an accusatory manner at him. "Harry," he said, and Harry smiled and nodded in approval at him. He sighed, tuning back to regard Teddy, his black eyes roving over the still-trembling body of the small boy, but Harry was relieved to see that it was slowly but surely beginning to subside. "I will require the use of your owl," he went on, his voice quiet.

"My owl?"

"Yes," Severus said. "Have you another?"

Harry swallowed; it was still a sore subject for him. "It was...difficult to replace Hedwig," he said quietly, and Severus turned to look at him as he spoke. "After everyone Polyjuiced themselves to look like me—despite my firm objections..." He shook his head, lowering his eyes as he fought to keep the tears from entering his eyes. "She died to save me, you know—flew in front of the Avada Kedavra... I couldn't stop it..."

"You were just seventeen," Severus told him gently. "How Albus ever assumed that you carrying the fate of the Wizarding World solely upon your shoulders... Well, you weren't the only one who suffered, Harry, albeit there were many different ways to do so, then."

Harry sighed, permitting himself to perch upon the chair on the opposite side of the bed, running his hands upon the brown corduroys he wore, wondering why he had yet to pull out his summer articles of clothing. Because you're kind of preoccupied with your son at death's bloody door, you pillock, his mind supplied for him. "Just wish that things could've been different," he said softly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Different?" Severus asked, soothing Teddy ever so slightly by putting light pressure intermittently on various muscles. "How?"

"If my parents' had lived, if I'd married Ginny—"

"The latter couldn't have possibly made you happy, given your remark about Blaise several minutes ago," Severus put in.

Harry chuckled. "Merlin, you're right," he said, running a hand through his hair, before looking across at the older man. "Well, then. My owl. What do you want with him?"

Severus nodded in understanding that the previous subject was closed. "I would like to personally write to Blaise and explain to him myself that I'll be staying here."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"I would also like to have Draco consulted as well," Severus said. "If, for some reason, Teddy needs further medical attention..."

"I'd be willing to Floo Call Draco myself, save Cadmus the trip," Harry said quickly. "Since we're on such good terms now, and all..."

Severus gave a tentative nod. "That would be acceptable," he said, looking at Harry from the corner of his eye. "Have you been eating properly?" he asked.

"Molly sent over some meals," Harry told him. "But I'm still making that roast for you tonight, so don't worry about it."

Severus sighed. "And your sleeping habits?"

"I've been... I'm trying," Harry said at last. "It's a dead sleep or tossing and turning for hours on end until I give up, really..."

Severus nodded in understanding. "Do some breathing exercises," he suggested, turning to look down at Teddy, and smiled visibly as the tremors finally left the child's body. "The ginger root has activated; Teddy will not be vomiting the potion," he said proudly.

Harry leaned forward. "Merlin, that's wonderful."

"The fever should break at any time now," Severus said, leaning back, and pulling a notepad and a self-inking quill from his pocket, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes emblazoned on its side. "Those troublemakers are good for one thing," he grumbled, once he caught Harry staring. He wrote out a list for Kreacher and, when he finished, handed it over to Harry. "Please give this to your elf at your earliest convenience."

Harry nodded, taking the list. "No problem," he replied, thinking he may as well call Draco via Floo as well, kill two birds with one stone. Getting to his feet and crossing the room, he peered and looked back over his shoulder. His heart melted as he saw Severus picking up the book that he'd placed on the nightstand the night before—Half Magic.

"'She looks as if she could do with some happiness,' said Katharine'," Severus read, and Harry wondered if Teddy could hear him, despite the potion churning through him. "'The others nodded. So Jane dropped the charm on the sidewalk, in a place where it would glint in the sun and attract attention, and she and Mark and Katharine and Martha hid behind a rather scraggly privet hedge nearby, and waited..."