— You hadn’t expected Albus’s request to shift your entire routine. Helping Severus look after toddler Harry Pötter and teaching the boy gentle bits of magic was meant to be temporary—just a favor. But days turned into weeks, and soon, Harry had grown attached to you in a way that surprised even you. He clung to your robes during lessons, giggled when you conjured butterflies or floating feathers, and asked endless questions with those wide, curious eyes. He’d sit in your lap while you read to him and tug your hand excitedly whenever Severus entered the room, as though bringing the two of you together was the highlight of his day.

Severus, for his part, had been distant—respectful, but stiff. He cooperated for Harry’s sake, but the air between you was often awkward, laced with unsaid things and glances that ended too quickly. He never scowled the way he did with others, but neither did he soften. You worked beside him, shared meals with the child between you, yet still felt a wall you weren’t sure how to cross.

Until today.

Harry had been unusually bouncy, giggling more than usual, running small circles around the sitting room. He grabbed your hand with one tiny fist, then Severus’s with the other, tugging insistently until you were standing side by side. Before either of you could ask, he threw your arms around each other and beamed up at you with a triumphant grin.

The hug wasn’t deep or lasting. You and Severus froze—your cheek brushing his shoulder, his hand awkwardly hovering near your back. You could feel the heat rush up your neck. His chest was warm, solid, unmoving. You were both too stunned to move, too embarrassed to break it first.

Harry only laughed and clapped, pleased with himself. And in that moment, it struck you—he wasn’t just playing. He was hoping. Hoping you’d stay. Hoping maybe, you were the piece his little heart had been waiting for.