Chapter Text
Living with Severus was weird. Henry was used to getting up at 5:30 to make breakfast before Uncle Vernon left for work and then immediately getting to work cleaning and gardening. Severus, given his druthers, was never up before ten, and generally did not sleep before 2am. If then. Henry spent his mornings in peace. Sort of. He had no idea what to do with four hours in which he didn't ha ve to do anything.
He took to running laps around the park, like he'd told Draco he would, cleaning everything he could physically reach for a couple hours, and then reading and taking notes on the books Severus had got for him until he heard the man start to move around upstairs. Then he made breakfast for both of them, usually to Severus scowling and reminding him that he was capable of feeding himself and did not require Henry either to wait to eat or to cook for them.
Then they went over several subjects, Severus quizzing Henry on his knowledge and filling in gaps for two hours and then had a light lunch. After lunch Henry was at loose ends again as Severus took over the AGA for potion making.
Sometimes Henry stayed to watch, and Severus would talk the whole time he was working about what he was doing and why. And also how brewing with an AGA was different than in the classroom, easier in many ways, and why. Sometimes Henry sat at the kitchen table with the books Severus presented him with after their bank and shopping trip. Sometimes Henry got bored and went and cleaned inadvisable things, to Severus' frustration.
After a week, Severus found him on the roof cleaning the gutters. Severus sent a patronus, and the next thing Henry knew, they were at Malfoy Manor, doing Dance Lessons with Lady-Aunt Cissa and Draco.
***
It had been a week. A week of daily visits from an increasingly flustered and anxious Edgar, carrying notes from Severus complaining of what Henry was up to this time. Tuesday, it was Henry waking up at 5:30 to go run laps around the park, clean the kitchen, and cook breakfast. Wednesday, it was the living room. Thursday was the windows. Friday, Severus had rejoiced that her nephew had stayed in the kitchen to learn potions making on his strange stove. Saturday had been the upstairs windows, inside and out. Sunday apparently involved attempting to read and memorize twelve books at once. Yesterday he had taken all the doors off their hinges to attempt to fix their refusal to hang quite right.
Narcissa had had quite enough. Consequently, she was in the kitchens, asking Pippy, their head House Elf, if anyone needed extra work and could be sent over to Spinner’s End to get to the hazardous cleaning and repairs before the ten year old could. She had just finished explaining Henry’s history and Severus’ letters when the familiar doe patronus bounded through the wall.
“Cissa. Cissa. He’s on the roof cleaning the gutters. He doesn’t even have a ladder up, Cissa. I have no idea how he got up there. I have less idea how to get him down safely. I’m getting him a clean change of clothing, something from Gideon’s, and then apparating us both directly from the roof to the Manor. He needs something to do in the afternoons, Cissa, and has a great many things he needs to learn given that he’s apparently heir to three Houses and Sirius’ heir. Surely some of that will be so physically or mentally exhausting he can’t possibly need to be on the bloody roof? Right?”
One of the elves fainted. Minky moaned and Blinky looked horrified.
"Pippy be sending four elveses, mistress," Pippy said grimly. "There will be no more younglings handling repairs or beings on roofs."
***
When dance lessons, which had somehow wound up involving Lucius, finished, Henry had been pulled into the kitchen by a House Elf, where he was handed a large bowl of boiled and peeled potatoes and a masher. The elves were strangely solicitous while also keeping a sharp eye on him. Mashing potatoes was easy though, and he didn't mind when there was also conversation and snacks. They stayed through dinner, getting to eat the potatoes he'd mashed was unexpectedly delightful. Draco made that face again when he tried to explain his happiness, that he wasn't used to being allowed to eat what he cooked, at the table, with the Normal People. Henry still had no idea what was up with Draco and his faces, but he wasn't willing to put the effort in to figure it out right now either.
When Henry and Severus got home, he found that the house had been cleaned, and all the repairs he'd made note of to do later had already been done. "Severus?"
"Cissa sent her house elves so there would be no more need for you to spend your time cleaning and attempting repairs you are too small to do safely," Severus responded, not even needing to hear the question.
Henry sighed, "What else am I supposed to do with six hours a day?"
Things changed, again.
Edgar took to sleeping on Henry, so he couldn't get up until seven, and then following him on his laps around the park, and then glaring, nipping, and nudging him until he ate something. And also fed Edgar some bacon.
Severus took Henry down to the Y and got him signed up for a martial arts class two days a week for six weeks. He was also doing dance lessons with Lady-Aunt Cissa once a week, fencing with Lucius and Severus once a week, helping Severus prep ingredients for potions twice a week, practicing calligraphy twice a week, and helping Cissa in her garden twice a week.
His mornings were still his own, and he managed to get quite a bit done on the various books, including the muggle history, math, chemistry and physics books in that time, and he still had his two hours with Severus before lunch. But after lunch was penmanship (and discovering that half of his problem had been damage to his hands), potions (and discovering that he had to completely relearn prepping now that he didn't have damage to his hands), or gardening (and discovering that it was a joy when he wasn't doing it alone, and also had magic plants to work with) followed by Judo, fencing or dancing.
After dinner, he’d get out the box Gideon had snuck into his bags of clothes, and spend some time quietly trying to draw his favorite people and memories at the kitchen table while Severus worked on more potions. Severus teared up when he looked over Henry’s shoulder. Henry didn’t think he was very good. Especially if it made Severus of all people want to weep. Actually, he had to be pretty awful. Just Not being very good would only get snide comments from the man. Harry had sat in his potions class, he would know.
He liked the colors though, the way the soft pastels blended, the richness of the colored pencils Gideon had gotten, he even liked playing with the paints, though he didn’t feel like he had enough control with the brushes for details.
He was wondering what to do with his one full day and three afternoons off, when Draco snagged him after they'd finished in the gardens and pulled him off towards the pitch he'd heard the Malfoy's had.
Apparently, Lady-Aunt Cissa had outsourced the problem. Madame Bones had gone with two of the Malfoy elves, including Dobby, and two of the Ministry elves down to the London SWAT offices to look at their obstacle course and watch the officers running it. The Ministry now had a duplicate obstacle course, modified for spell fire rather than gunfire, and the Malfoys had one downsized for child-sized bodies, parked right next to the quidditch pitch.
A small shed between the two stored enough brooms for two full quidditch teams.
Henry was in heaven. He knew what he'd be doing in his free time.
As they were already in clothes they could muss without a fuss, and nicely warmed up from gardening and walking across the extensive grounds, Henry dropped into the stretches he’d learned in Judo.
Draco looked at him in confusion for a moment, and then haltingly copied him. Henry took pity on him and corrected his stretches, helping him extend them fully. He explained as they went why stretching was important.
When they’d done a full set, Henry pulled Draco to the obstacle course, much to Draco’s protestations.
Henry smirked. “Race you across, three times,” he offered, “If you can beat me even once, we’ll go flying. If you can’t, we run it ten times every day I have available before flying until you can beat me.”
“You’re on!” Draco agreed, glint of challenge in his eyes.
Draco did not win.
Draco did lay on the ground panting and calling Henry a madman.
Henry laughed. He had to get his amusement somewhere. And besides, he needed a way to pull Draco’s head out of his arse, or living with him for the next seven years would be unbearable.
***
On one Sunday, Henry decided to skip his usual run around the park to explore the town instead.
On one hand, it wasn’t very interesting. Rather like small towns everywhere, Henry thought. There was a tiny library, a coffee shop, three schools, a half dozen churches, grocery stores and the like.
On the other hand, it was an informative walk. The town had history in a way Little Whinging did not. It was old, founded on account of the coal mine it got its name from in the 1800s. Spinner’s End was considered the bad part of town because it was originally owned by the mine to house the miners. Which was why the houses there were all so small and “economically built.” People with jobs that paid better before a death certificate lived on the next street over. People with jobs that meant they could leave something to their kids lived clear across town.
The best thing, in Henry’s opinion, was that with its coal history and relative proximity to the foundry in Coalbrookdale, it had an AGA store that had somehow survived the coal mine going under.
Acting on a whim, Henry walked in, looking in awe at the new display cookers on the floor.
“Be with you in a moment!” someone shouted from further back in the store.
“No worries,” Henry replied, running his fingers over a beautiful green range. It was truly massive, with seven ovens and two extra hobs, silver and black accenting a very Slytherin looking “Racing Green”. It was gorgeous. Severus needed it. But it wouldn’t fit in the kitchen even if they took out all the counters. He didn’t think Severus would be okay with replacing his heirloom anyway. The beginnings of an idea itched at the back of his brain as the shop lady came out.
“Sorry about that,” she said, behind Henry. “How can I help you?”
Henry turned and watched her eyes flicker over him, landing briefly on the scar on his forehead. What? He was in a muggle shop in a muggle town! Was it really that distractingly obvious? He brushed his bangs back over that side of his head and plowed onwards. “I just moved in with my sort-of uncle. He has an heirloom AGA, and I wanted to know more about them when I saw your store. He told me his AGA was bought in 1937 by his grandfather, and when the coalmine went under, his mum modified it herself to run on cheaper things than the coal her husband didn’t sometimes get paid in anymore. What are the new ones like? What do they run on?”
“And where is your uncle?” the lady asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dammit, stupid ten year old body!
Henry kept his sigh internal and pasted on his biggest, innocent eyed look. “Asleep still. He’s a secondary school chemistry professor up north a ways, so he doesn’t get much time to do his own studies and experiments. Which means he tends to stay up late in the summers and not wake up before ten. And I don’t actually know how to sleep in, even when I tried to stay up with him. I fell asleep during his lecture on the differences in cooking with gas stoves, electric stoves, old wood stoves and AGAs, which I think he did on purpose. He was giving me a look before he started.”
The young woman, maybe in her early twenties, wasn’t buying his innocent look. Her eyebrow stayed up. “And what is your uncle’s name?” she asked.
Henry sighed, feeling like she was about to call Severus to pick him up. He really didn’t want to get in trouble when things were going well. “Severus Snape,” he mumbled at his feet.
“I didn’t know Professor Snape lived in town, or that he had an AGA. Suddenly many of the differences between his and Slughorn’s lectures make so much more sense. I’ll have to reread my old school books to try and see what brewing with an AGA is like.”
Harry jerked his head back up to stare at her. “He and my mum grew up here,” his mouth said as he looked at her thoughtful expression. “Apparently near everyone on Spinner’s End had an AGA.”
“I’m a muggleborn,” the lady answered the question he’d apparently left on his face, “There’s not a lot of work on that side for someone like me. But if the Professor uses an AGA by preference, perhaps there’s a way to cross my job back into that side. The old coal ones are probably easier to charm to run on magic, but any of them should be doable, especially if I can get a look at the charms Mrs. Snape did on hers.”
Henry shook his head, “I don’t think he’d be alright with replacing the heirloom one, and the kitchen wouldn’t fit it anyway, but he talks so much about how much easier, especially the long brews, are on an AGA, I know he’d love this one. It’s got so many options and it’s huge and…”
“Very Slytherin looking, just right for the head of that house,” the shopkeep nodded, smiling. “Have you any ideas then?”
Henry’s face twisted in thought. “One, maybe. Lucius and Lady-Aunt Cissa. If anyone can get it into H…the school, it would be them. But I’d have to talk them into it. Have you got any brochures?”
“Good lad, I do not have brochures. I have catalogues.”