Wings of Sun

Sleepover

Severus sipped at his third coffee, still slightly rattled from the nightmare a few days ago. It had taken up the forefront of his mind, making him more scatterbrained than normal. His hands shook, and his memory seemed to falter every once and awhile. He had taken to drinking Dreamless Sleep before bed every night since then, at least until he completely got over the dream and it stopped haunting him during his everyday activities. He always hated nightmares because it always took him way longer than most to get over them, especially the ones with Tobias involved.

Harry, now distracted by the new boiling potion in the basement, didn't seem to notice anything wrong with Severus. Which was great, in Severus' opinion. He refused to let Harry see him in such a state over a nightmare.

Harry had written to his friends back and forth repeatedly for the last few days, telling them in the fewest details possible that something amazing was happening. Spin had hissed with joy at Harry's story, and even Hedwig seemed to be in a better mood since the potion began.

He had fire-called Dumbledore, swearing him to secrecy as he told the Headmaster his plan with Pater et Filius. Albus had been overjoyed of course, and had promised to act as a witness if there was a need for one.

With the first of September coming in just a few days time, Minerva had come over, making sure his lesson plans were up to snuff and that he was prepared for a new year. He knew that wasn't the real reason for her visit, but had let her see his notes anyway. Just as he had suspected, as soon as she peered at the parchment, her real reason for coming had reared it's head as Harry walked down the stairs and the two had instantly went flying in the backyard.

Over their dinner of Chinese take-out, Harry had excitedly told her about the potion and the whole adoption process with permission from Severus. Her chopsticks had clattered into the styrofoam tray, and for a moment she didn't say anything. Then she smiled wide and took them both into a huge hug, nearly crushing their wings and backs, and congratulated them over and over. She had left happier than he had ever seen her, which confused him because the news wasn't even about her, and soon after she had left he had retreated back to his potions lab.

He placed his cup in the sink, yawning wide. He padded over to the living room, towards the bookcase. He pulled the appropriate book down, and the whole thing slid open. He flicked a switch and a light bulb flickered on, lighting the small hallway.

The potion had been bubbling on low heat for well over thirty six hours now. Yesterday, he had added the ingredients, and now it was to boil for three weeks. Then the next step would come into play.

He turned the knob to his lab, surprised to find it was unlocked. Wary, he pushed it open, wand in hand. He stopped short, one step in.

The potion was still in the same place, still bubbling peacefully. Harry sat in front of it, chair turned backwards and feet dangling off the edge. His wings, finally beginning to grow larger since his molting, brushed the tile floor. He was staring intently at the potion, as if he could speed up the process by sheer will.

"Harry?" he said, and the boy jumped, not hearing him come in. "What are you doing here?"

The eleven year old turned around in is chair, looking rather tired. "I'm bored," was his simple reply.

"So you decided to stare at a potion?" The question rang around the room and the boy shrugged. "It's barely eleven. Surely there is something you can do besides just sit?"

"I've already done everything," he whined.

An eyebrow raised. "Have you thought about possibly writing to Neville?"

"Already have. Waiting on a reply."

"Hermione?"

"Again, waiting on a reply."