The Hero and the Spy

Aches and Pains

Summary: Harry liked gardening, he did...just not after a weekend with the Weasleys.

Character(s): Harry Potter, Severus Snape, (mentioned) Weasley family

Relationship(s): Harry & Severus (guardianship)

Setting: implied summer after Goblet of Fire/before Order of the Phoenix

Warnings/Tags: established relationship, established guardianship, minor humour, fluff, implications of child abuse/neglect, comfort, family

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Aches and Pains

Harry groaned as he pulled at the weeds around the wolfsbane, his aching muscles screaming in protest. He shot a glare at Severus who chuckled beside him.

"Something wrong?" Severus said innocently. "I was under the impression gardening was always one of your preferred chores."

"It is," Harry said, chucking the weeds into the basket between them, "but not after Quidditch with the Weasleys."

"You agreed to the bargain," Severus said. "You got to spend the weekend at the Burrow if you would help me with the garden."

"I know, I know," Harry said petulantly, groaning again as he pulled at more weeds. They slipped through his fingers, their roots deep, and he fell back off his heels onto his backside.

He looked at his guardian who seemed to be focused on his section of the wolfsbane, but Harry knew the man had half his attention on Harry. He was acting aloof, but he was still ensuring Harry wasn't actually in excruciating pain. He'd known attending the Quidditch weekend at the Burrow would be a bad idea, knowing he'd have to spend several hours hunched over in the garden, but he just couldn't pass it up. Since Voldemort's return, Severus hadn't been too keen on letting him spend extended periods of time away from home, especially not without Severus. It had been the best weekend he'd had in a long time, but he still had some regrets in this current moment.

Huffing, he pushed himself back onto his knees and returned to the weed that had started causing problems in the first place.

"Go upstairs," Severus said just as Harry got his hands wrapped around the weed.

"Huh?" Harry said, confused, even as he yanked hard on the weed, ignoring the dull, but still sharp pain in his shoulders.

"We will continue after lunch," Severus said, sitting back and wiping his hands on a rag. "For now, head upstairs and I will draw you a bath with Muscle Relaxer."

"Severus, you don't have to," Harry said, tugging more insistently on the weed that was slowly coming free from the dirt. "I'm sorry I'm whining."

"Unnecessary," Severus said, always casually brushing off Harry's persistent apologies. "Go. I won't have you straining yourself more."

"But—" Harry protested, giving the weed one last pull and it finally came free. The harsh movement caused a spasm in one of his shoulders and he groaned again.

A hand landed on that shoulder and kneaded slightly. "Go, child. I'll be right up. The garden will still be here in an hour."

Harry looked at him, unsure, but then smiled slightly, nodding. He dropped the weed in the basket, accepted the fingers that tangled in the back of his hair briefly with affection, and climbed to his feet with yet another groan. Severus smirked at the sound, but said nothing, just gathering their tools and basket of weeds as Harry headed into the house. He was upstairs when he heard the back door open and footsteps on the stairs, and he knew, as promised, Severus was already on his way up to, as usual, take care of the pains Harry willingly inflicted on himself.

The man was always taking care of him.

Fin