… Fallax Iuvente …

5. It's a flying day today

It took only a split second.

No one expected it. No one could have expected it even, for that matter.

Not the Minister.

Not Harry.

Not even little Severus, who was to be pointed out as the source of the phenomenon soon after.

However neither of these dwelled on the matter of "expecting" what happened. They were for most part struck speechless with the outcome which they ended up faced with.

Because it certainly was not everyday that one was faced with the image of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore being sent flying across his very office.

Really, it was not.

...

Once the initial shock wore off, Harry and the Minister both turned to the only child in the room.

For - in all sincerity - it was quite easy to pinpoint the cause of the Headaster's unexpected flying lesson. After all, it happened the very moment the wizard's aged hand brushed his childified subordinate.

Well, be that as it may, as soon as it happened, Harry already silently started to count that memory among the most hilarious sights he had ever witnessed. On the scale of comicality he ranked it the same he did the image of Gilderoy Lockhart being attacked by a flock of devilish Cornish Pixies, in fact.

'Bet he didn't expect that, huh?' the Gryffindor laughed to himself. 'Well, I did not expect it either, but that won't stop me from enjoying it.'

"What did just happen?" the Minister asked, slowly making his way over to the side of the room where one Albus Dumbledore... landed.

The Minister even went as far as to offer his hand to the old wizard to help him up, however said wizard just brushed it off.

"Harry, my boy, that was not very nice. I would expect better from you." the Headmaster adressed the only Gryffindor in his room as he stoood up, brushing dust off his robes. "Such as simply handing Severus over, without the useless drama."

It seemed that the Headmaster had not caught up with the programme.

"But I didn't do anything, Headmaster." Harry defended himself, all the while thinking: 'Is he daft?' After all, even the Minister had quickly pinpointed the cause of the magical outburst, how could the old wizard not?

"Now don't be ridiculous. Who else would it have been?" the aged man concluded as he advanced closer... and reached for Severus once more.

As could be expected by everyone - unless their name were Albus Dumbledore, apparently - that did not go well.

The second time around, even the Minister could not help but get amused at the sight of the Headmaster, all but soaring through the air.

"Seems it is a flying day today, huh?"

...

The second time the Headmaster experienced the motion called flying the landing was even less fortunate than the one before and knocked the man out cold.

It took only a few moments to realise that, for what with how the the first try went, it was obvious to the other wizards in the room that something was different. Not having a man clad in brightly coloured robes all but yelling from the ground immediately seemed indicator enough to Harry.

"Umm, Minister, could you maybe Firecall Madame Pomfrey?" Harry turned to the man in question.

"Oh, I'm not sure the Floo will allow me, we are in Headmaster Dumbledore's office after all, surely it would allow you..." however the man intended to end the sentence, it trailed off as soon as the Fudge's eyes slid to the boy who was tightly hanging onto the Gryffindor's robes.

"A bit indisposed, are you?" a snort of good-natured laughter escaped the man's lips, before he approached the fireplace.

Good thing was that unlike what Fudge had suspected, the hearth was not warded against him and as such he was able to deal with the matter quickly.

Soon the Hogwart's resident Meidwitch was on her way.

In the meantime the head of the Ministry turned to the one general wizarding public called the Boy Who Lived.

"So... How did this happen even?" he asked, waving his hand in Harry's general direction, said motion clearly encompassing the child the Gryffindor held.

"Headmaster didn't tell you?" Harry's eyes widened, incredulous, surely that was not the case?

"Oh, he did tell me that his Potions Master had become a child because of a potion accident, don't worry about that, what I meant is how it came to be that you of all people are the one taking care of the infamous Severus Snape?"

"I'm not sure about that myself, to be honest." Harry admitted, sheepishly. It was strange how easy conversing with the man he had never been on the best terms with could be. It felt more like the conversation he had with the man after inflating aunt Marge than any of the conversations after that. Somehow easy. If Harry could remember clearly, he had been... offered a pea soup? What had changed since then? What was different in that first meeting and to an extent the current one from all those others?

"Then why are you against the idea of him being taken away so much?"

"He's a child now. He hasn't done anything bad." Harry said, enveloping his arms around the small body in his arms tighter, "And sending him into a muggle orphanage of all things? That could only end up bad."

"Yet I have to ask..."

Thankfully for Harry, that was the moment Madame Pomfrey decided to enter the office.

...

"Flying, really?"

"Yeah."

"Like... flying-flying?"

"He only soared through the air for about a moment, but he changed place by about five meters, so yeah, I suppose that counts as flying-flying."

"Aww, man, I wish I could see that."

"Ron!" it seemed that the expression of mild disappointment on Ron's face was too much for Hermione to just take, sitting idly."It's Headmaster Dumbledore that we're speaking about here!"

"I know that. And I bet you'd be laughing too if you saw it!" Ron tried to defend himself, even his hands coming up in front of his face in an imitation of a shield.

"Leave him be, Hermione." Harry decided to step in, before the two got into another of their epic arguments. It was enough that there already had been one "Red alert" - how the Gryffindor tower came to call those - this month already.

"But it's Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Yeah, and? You yourself said that sending magical childred into muggle orphanage is one of the worst ideas. Period. Even Ron knows that. Every Gryffindor knows that. Draco freaking Malfoy knows that. Entirety of Hogwarts knows that. I bet even Vol-de-dort sure as hell knows it. Why did the saintly Headmaster Albus Dumbledore think it is a good idea then?"

Hermione had no answer to that.

She chose to comment on something entirely different instead.

"You've sure grown close to him."

"What?"

"Well..." her eyes meaningfully slid to the child sleeping on his lap, whose hair he was carding his fingers through.

"And?" the Gryffindor in all but name icon asked, bristling.

"Nothing. It's just that I can't imagine you fighting this so insistently if it were about someone else. He really has grown on you."

Harry deflated at that. "Is that bad?"

"Oh, Harry, it's not bad at all." Hermione's voice got gentler, her hand squeezing his shoulder slightly. "It's nice to see you fighting for something again."

She did not need to elaborate.

Harry knew that ever since the Triwizard tournament he had been walking around in a bit of a haze. As a matter of a fact there was little that could produce an all-out reaction from him.

Ironically enough it had been the Occlumency lessons that got the rise out of him the easiest. And even if those were nearly never positive it was something...

Along the line came Dumbledore's Army - he did not have a legitimate reason through which he could refuse the name at the time - and teaching everyone how to defend themselves, how to fight... It had been awesome.

But those had come to an end, once Umbridge had been replaced by a competent teacher, the DA only seldomly meeting, the pressing need to learn fading.

Of course that was the time that the Occlumency lessons brought the pensieve incident.

And Harry was left streaking through the mud once again.

The whole image Harry had of his dad was smashed into pieces. Tiny little ones. Smashed and put into a diamond grinder. Microscopic.

Sirius hadn't even bothered to reply to the only letter he had sent about the matter.

'It's been how long since then... a month? More?' Harry could not help but ask himself bitterly. 'I know that being on the run and everything is not easy, but even a "We'll talk about it later, no time now." would have sufficed!"

The teen hated how everything he had been ever told about his dad soured. He hated that his godfather did not reach out to him, especially when he needed some reassurance so badly.

He hated it all the more when he knew that the child that still slept on his lap peacefully would in time grow back into the memories containing his tormentor... And was nearly surely going to hate him.

The adult Snape was one thing, but Severus... Harry wouldn't be able to bear it if the child started hating him.

"Uhm, Harry...?"

Ron's voice brought the teen out of his rumination.

"We kind of lost you there for a minute or two."

"Yeah, sorry... just thinking."

"Naw, 's okay. Though back to the important stuff, Harry. You really need to somehow show me that memory if we ever get a chance. Do you think Pensieves are hard to come by?"

"Ron!" Hermione chided the red-head again, said red-head only finding amusement in the banter.

Harry only sighed in exasperation.

Tadah?

Opted for a short chapter, rather than none, to give something to you as a gift, given it's 31st July and as such Harry's Birthday today!

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit, even if there isn't much movement plot-wise and the little there is is subtle, I dare say. I've got some epic twists prepared for you all though! Better believe that! :D

Also "Vol-de-dort" is not a misspelling, it's an inside joke for Czech speakers ;) (I wonder hom many are there, huh?)

See ya~ ( "-.-)/