I Don't Want to be a Hero - Second Year

Epilogue

"Harry!" Severus shouted at his son's bathroom door. "Are you adding another loo? You have been in there far too long…!"

The bathroom door opened, Harry, his cheeks flushed, pushed past his father. "I'm fine, dad! I just… had to go… you know?"

Severus looked at his son critically who had conveniently buried himself in his wardrobe. It was then he had noticed that Harry had recently a slight growth spurt. He glanced back at the closed bathroom door suspiciously but decided to push his conjecture to the back of his mind. He knew his son was growing up. Harry was now just to his chest, and just last night he had actually refused to sit on his father's lap.

"Hurry up and get dressed, Harry," Severus ordered half-heartedly as he strode over to the bedroom door. "Your guests will be here soon."

Severus closed his son's door behind him, and did his best not to break into a run down the short hallway to the stairs that led to the living room. Once there he dropped into his favourite chair, and glared out of the large picture window.

"Severus?" Poppy walked into the living room. He turned to look upon his wife of just barely a month. She had been gardening; putting her annuals to bed until Spring. Even in this clime the weather sometimes became too cold for plants if they were not accustomed to cooler weather.

With a wave of her wand she widened the chair so she could sit beside her husband who was once again brooding as he stared out of the window.

"What is wrong, Severus?" she asked as she drew his hair back with her hand so she could better see his face.

"Harry's growing up," he grumbled.

"Surely that's a good thing," she smiled.

"I was just getting used to him, Poppy," he sighed. "Collecting shells in the tide pools, building dirt bridges in the garden… cuddling with me…" He caught his wife's hand in his hair, kissed her fingers, and drew her by the hand possessively to himself. "He shall be discovering girls next," Severus groused.

Poppy chuckled, "At least we don't have to worry about Ginny Weasley. She's set her sights upon Blaise Zabini." Severus glanced at her in question. "That girl is as… well… as explorative as her mother was. And, Blaise is quite the handsome boy."

"I could care less about either of them," snapped Severus as he slouched further in the chair.

"You know that Harry had to grow up sometime, Severus." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly. "As you recall he very nearly did not have that chance."

"I know, Poppy, but…" he shifted suddenly so he was facing his wife. "Harry was in the bathroom," Severus scowled darkly. "You know what he was doing, Poppy."

Poppy laughed softly, and this time kissed the tip of Severus' nose. He swiped gently at her, and tried to maintain that he was angry. "My dear, that's what boys do. Soon you'll have to explain to him what is happening…" Severus grimaced as the shade of "The Talk" flitted over his head. "Harry isn't a child anymore, Severus. He's 13 today and he is changing."

"He's not allowed to," Severus grumped stubbornly.

"Dad?" the timid voice called to his father from the foot of the stairs. "Are you mad at me?"

Poppy waved Harry into the living room, and with a swipe of her wand she widened the chair just a bit more. Harry walked into the living room, and glanced at the narrow space between his parents longingly. He could kick himself for refusing to sit with his father last night. He had not slept well.

Severus stretched a hand out to his son, and he was inwardly delighted when Harry nestled between himself and Poppy. "I am not mad at you, Harry."

"Then why do you sound like you are?" he asked quietly. Harry turned just enough so he could pick at the velvet cloth covered buttons of his father's waistcoat. Severus rather hoped that would be one nervous habit his son would never outgrow. He had never told anyone but it was a habit that served to calm him as well as it did Harry.

Severus caught Harry's hand into his. With his other he tipped Harry's chin up so he could see into his beautiful green eyes. "I am not, and was not, mad at you, Harry. I do suppose I am… sad." Harry blinked at him, and squeezed his father's hand tight, worriedly. "You are changing, my dearest little boy."

Harry quickly glanced down at himself. He looked the same. "I'm just older, dad. I'm 13 today."

"That you are, Harry," Severus kissed his son's temple. "However, you are changing. You have grown at least five inches, and just the other night you were telling me how pretty Luna has lately looked."

Harry could not stop the smile crossing his face as he thought of the pretty Ravenclaw girl. To be honest, he thought of her a lot lately. He even dreamed about her! Ugh! Harry squirmed as he was suddenly uncomfortable sandwiched between his parents so tightly.

"Dad," he huffed. He was unable to articulate the embarrassment that was leaping through his body, and now colouring his cheeks.

"Harry, I am not mad," Severus reiterated to get his son's attention. "I am sad at losing the little boy who sat with me at night for a story. The little boy who always demanded hugs and kisses from me when I had to leave."

The embarrassment fled as his father talked, and Harry's body relaxed against his father. "I'm not lost, though, dad. Will you still love me if I change?"

"I shall love you forever and beyond, Harry," Severus said with a gentle smile as he carded his fingers through his son's hair.

Harry slipped an arm around his father's waist and squeezed tight. "I don't want to stop giving you or mum kisses and hugs, dad." Harry smiled at both his mother and father with a swivel of his head. "I didn't know if you still wanted me to be… silly… like that."

Poppy kissed the crown of Harry's head. "Love and affection are never silly, Harry."

Harry then giggled as a thought struck his funny bone. "It would be silly if I were 30 and wanted to sit on your lap for a story, dad!"

"Hah!" smirked Severus. "Get outside you annoying thirteen year old boy, and greet your friends."

Harry scrambled up from the widened chair, and ran to the door. Just as he was about to open it, he turned, and ran back to his parents. He kissed Poppy's cheek, but then he hugged, and kissed his father. In his ear he whispered, "I'm going to love you forever, too, dad!"

He then pulled away, ran to the door, and outside. Severus sighed, slightly sad, but infinitely joyous. Poppy leaned into his side so neither of them would lose the warmth of their son between them.

In reference to a question raised by Chapter 3: is the King's English proper since there is a Queen?

The King's English is a book on English usage and grammar. It was written by the Fowler brothers, Henry Watson Fowler and Francis George Fowler, and published in 1906, and thus pre-dates by 20 years Modern English Usage, which was written by Henry alone after Francis's death in 1917.

Shakespeare: the antiquated phrase was coined by the bard in his play The Merry Wives of Windsor written in 1597.

'The King's English' also is in reference to a version of the Bible known as the King James Bible of 1611.

Therefore, 'The King's English' is the correct term and has nothing, whatsoever, to do with the British Monarchy.

~SS