You cannot know how much I have enjoyed reading this fic. Having been a care-giver to my grandmother, and having written a book on said experience, your fic completely captivated me and made me grin at times, and want to cry, at others. You captured everything so perfectly, and it did my heart good to read about Harry’s experiences. I think one of the more endearing moments was when Christopher was speaking – I think that was so very poignant and it left an impression with me for so many reasons.
My heart bled for Severus when he apologed to Harry. I know all too well how that is for someone – they are trying their best, but their best is nowhere near what it once was. That realization can be devastating. I watched my grandmother cry more times than I care to remember – all because she couldn’t do something or think of something she once could.
The front-load-washer as a cauldron was oh so funny, but not, if you know what I mean. Harry was much more level-headed than I would have been in that situation. You do learn patience when being a care-giver, that’s for sure.
The inhibitions bit was so very close to home. My experiences were so very similar as my grandmother had been such a straight-laced person her entire life, so we all actually thought she was a bit more fun when she lost her inhibitions, but the trade–off was not at all worth it.
Oh my, and sending out form letters to solicitors… ah the memories.
Inside, Harry cringed. Severus was right; much of his dignity had been sacrificed on the altar of Harry's convenience. How much was too much in his quest to keep Severus safe? What did the rest of his recent eccentricities really matter in light of the quality of his remaining life? So he might ruin a washer. So he might confuse a potion with dinner. So he might lose today's shopping money. Severus could hardly spend it all--or donate it--in the time between here and the Leaky Cauldron, and lord knew, they had enough of it for him to waste a bit every day until he died and still leave a fortune for the children.
Oh, and this… and this… I can’t even begin to tell you how much I adored this bit because it was what I struggled most with – the wearing odd, mis-matched clothing, wearing a hair-net, etc… very hard for me to come to terms with, but very much a necessity. I hated with every fiber of my being when I had to slowly began to restrict her movements, but it became a must and it broke my heart to see someone who had once been so vibrant be reduced to, as she called it, a prisoner in her own home. That killed me, but there was nothing else for it – she had to be protected, but now I wonder… from what exactly was I protecting her from? Had she walked outside and been hit by a car and died it would have been an easier death than the life she still leads today.
Excellent fic, my dear. I think this just might go into my all-time favorite list. It isn’t often that I read fics that hit this close to home.