He had not expected accidental magic.  As the boy left the infirmary, the two witches glanced at each other with looks that contained equal parts inquiry and concern.  Severus however, found himself glaring at the empty bad where the boy had been and grinding his teeth.

It may have been sudden, but he should have seen accidental magic from a kilometre away.  Had he not been spending a patently ridiculous amount of time with Potter? Had he not seen the boy at his most annoyingly vulnerable?

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Snape attempted to release his anger.  Or at least dampen it considerably.  As he did so, Poppy's voice came into his consciousness.

"Well, the question is not is it accidental magic, but why is it accidental magic?"

Giving in, Severus rolled his eyes and said, "I would presume that it's because he doesn't want to speak yet."

"Why ever not?"

After a moment of being stunned at the complete and utter seriousness of the question, he drawled in response,

"I'd imagine he has his reasons, most of which are psychological, the vast majority of which he probably doesn't even recognize."

"But you do?" Minerva asked, and he could hear both the amusement and doubt that laced the question.

"I have my...suspicions."

This time his colleague didn't speak; she just looked at him expectantly.

"Unlike some others, I prefer to keep other people's personal information private."

Poppy broke in then - "Well we cannot just let him stay silent.  If you know how we can help him you need to tell us, Professor Snape."

Just as he was about to respond, McGonagall spoke on his behalf.  "I have no doubt that Severus is more than capable of helping Harry, and that he will do so to the best of his abilities."

He was not sure whether that was a statement or an order.  All the same, he found himself nodding at her with a grudging respect before he left the infirmary.

*******

For someone who had just been touting his own insight into Potter's psychological state, he was certainly failing miserably at putting that insight to work.

Harry's expectation that he would be punished - no, beaten, Severus  corrected - had washed over him like a bucket of ice water.  It took him several moments of internal dialogue to realize what was going on inside the child's head.

As he had told the boy, Harry didn't trust him in the way he ought to.  Certainly the boy had warmed to him, come to take comfort in his presence, even.  And he might even trust that he wouldn't be hurt under normal circumstances.

But accidental magic was not "normal circumstances".  Not to Harry, and more importantly, not to the Dursley's.

He had been incredibly, incredibly foolish. Arrogant, even.  He had always taught his students that even the most innocuous, innocent looking potions could be dangerous.  It could be pink and fizzy and smell like candy floss, but that didn't mean it wasn't poison.  Looks could be deceiving.  Even first years could understand that.

Clearly he had forgotten his own fundamental lesson.  Just because Harry wasn't appearing affected by the Dursley's abuse, didn't mean he wasn't.  Just because he'd had a few good cries about it, didn't mean it was dealt with and over.

It wasn't enough to simply let the boy use his robes as tissue when he needed to; it was the underlying responses that had to be dealt with.  Like Harry's automatic assumption that accidental magic equaled punishment. 

Yes, he would deal with the bigger issue, but first there was the more immediate issue to deal with.  So he did the only thing he could think of - he banished all his belts.

After they had disappeared, he turned to Harry, who was gaping openly at the spot where the belts had just been.  After several long moments he shifted his gaze upwards, and Severus forced himself into neutrality. 

"I will say it again, although I do believe it will be a long time before you truly understand it.  Accidental magic is expected at your age.  It doesn't disappear completely until you hit puberty.  It is perfectly normal for these types of things to happen - particularly when a child has had a troubled past.

However, I would be remiss if I were to tell you it's fine to remain in this state of silence you have imposed on yourself.  Why do you not want to speak, child?"

He hadn't realized he'd used the mild endearment; Harry, however, perked up at the word instantly.  Severus could see relief pour over the boy muscle by muscle.  His student even took a few steps forward, the first positive movements he had made.

With only the briefest of contemplations, Severus moved into a modified crouch.  He repeated the single word as a question, knowing it would draw the boy out further.  He was using every scrap of instinct he had to break the tension, trying so hard that cunning was practically oozing out his pores.  Between his stance and his tone, he felt like he was dealing with one of Hagrid's injured and frightened creatures.

He cursed Lily's muggle relations, and not for the first time.  Perhaps Harry would never fully trust; perhaps the damage was too ingrained.  It surprised him how deeply he felt sorrow as a result of that possibility.  But then, a glimmer of hope.

If his first use of the word "child" had relaxed the boy, the second use had him glowing.  While he was not meeting the professor's eyes, Severus could still see the small smile that was playing on his lips.  It was if the simple use of the title "child" had given him permission to be one.  It could be seen in his body language, in the simple self-soothing acts, like the way Harry was stroking his hands.  First left, than right, light touches.  Almost in the way a mother would pat the back of a hand in reassurance and comfort.

The thought caused his throat to hurt.

Talking himself into being patient, he reached out a hand to beckon Harry closer and repeated his question.

"Why don't you want to talk?"

A few more steps forward.  So close, but not quite close enough.  A shrug was the only response he received.  He admitted to himself that he had been hoping to release a torrent of words.  In time, he supposed.

Seeing that he wasn't angry or disappointed at the lack response, Harry moved closer again, so that he was now within arms length.

"I think you do know, Harry, you just may not realize it. And that's normal as well.  We all do things sometimes without knowing why right away."

Slowly. . .slowly. . . he reached a hand out -- just his thumb really -- to stroke the back of Harry's hand.  He hoped the gesture would soften his next words.  There was a time for reassurance, but he would not coddle the boy.  It would aid neither of them.

He was pleased to see Harry respond to his body language, for as he resumed speaking, he was still crouched at Harry's eye level, with the child leaning sideways against his chest.

Moderating his tone just slightly, he moved from gentle to firm.  It was not the authority of a teacher he needed to convey, that much he knew.

"While you may not wish to speak, Harry, you can not afford to remain completely silent.  You practical spells will suffer if you cannot speak the incantation. If you cannot speak the incantation, you risk failing the year.  This accidental magic is under your control.  Want to speak, and you will speak."

He shifted Harry to face him, leaving his hands to rest on the boy's shoulders.

"So I am asking two things of you to remedy this situation.  First, you will speak the incantations in class.  For the moment I will restrict it to that, and ask the other professors to let you write out any responses they ask of you.  And you will speak one or two words a day on your own, to me, or to your friends.  If you do as I ask in class, I will not push you on the matter when you are at home.  Do we understand each other?"

Harry shut his eyes for a moment, swallowed hard, and then replied, "Yes."

So simple, one little word.  But it was a start, and Severus could not help but let loose a real smile.

"Well done Harry.  Well done."

********

It was the only word Harry said that night.  Not even his two irritating little friends could coax anything out of him once they'd been apprised of the situation.  And they had certainly tried.  In fact, he had been forced to threaten to return them to the tower if they did not stop pestering Harry.

He was left to relative peace and quiet while the Gryffindors visited, more than enough time to contemplate his now beltless lifestyle.  He certainly didn't wear them for their utility; a simple fitting charm would suffice.  However he did not relish the idea of using one every morning for the next several years or however long it took Harry to finally trust that he was safe.

It was several minutes of annoyed contemplation of this fact before he realized what had happened.  He had automatically assumed that his rapport with Potter would continue unabated, potentially for years.  And the thought had not even disturbed him!  Not right away, at least.  It was certainly disturbing him now.

He thought back, looking for any clues as to when this change had come over him.  He could find none beyond the equally disturbing use of the word 'home' in their earlier conversation.  Just when he had gotten used to this new...relationship...with the boy, his subconscious had to go and level up.

He needed a nice glass of scotch.  Which he automatically knew he wouldn't have while Harry was in the dungeons. 

Since when did that matter?  What was so important about the presence of one little boy?  Wasn't he free to do as he wished in his own quarters? 

He glanced at the bottle on his shelf, but did not move.  No, it was abundantly clear that while he may no longer be a Death Eater, Severus was not a free man.

Hoisting himself up, he moved towards the bedroom where the three children were being surprisingly quiet.  Too quiet, really.  Quiet Gryffindors were usually up to something.

He knocked, but paused only for a few seconds before opening the door.  Nothing was immediately suspicious, although Weasley was glaring terribly, and Granger had that overly haughty look about her.  As for Harry, he looked guilty, but only mildly so.  So instead of lecturing, he merely stated,

"Harry, it is time for you to go to bed.  Your friends should return to the tower."

"But it's only 9 o'clock!  There's still an hour before curfew, even!"  Ronald Weasley's face was quickly matching his hair.

"Be that as it may, I do believe I know a little bit more about what's best for Mr. Potter than you do.  And he has had yet another long and difficult day.  Not to mention whatever you three were plotting about in here.  Which, I should add, is not the brightest thing to be doing in a teacher's quarters.  In the future I suggest you keep your illicit plans to the Gryffindor common room.  No, it is time to say goodnight."

Ron lost his temper then, turning to Harry. 

"You don't have to stay here Harry, you can come back to the tower and not have to worry about bedtimes."  That last came out with almost an admirable snarl for an 11 year old.

Snape watched for several seconds as Harry was caught in the pressure from his friend.    When it became clear that the boy was in no position to be assertive to anyone, he spoke up.  Yes, boundaries kept people enclosed, but they also kept them safe, and perhaps it was time someone erected some for Harry.

"Normally Harry does indeed have a choice in when he stays over in the dungeons, but that is not the case tonight.  He will be remaining in the dungeons where he can get some much-needed rest.  And since I am not about to begin justifying my decisions to children, that is all I have to say on the matter."

Glancing over, he thought it possible that he would be met with defiance; that the boy would stomp out the door with his friends.  He certainly had every right to do so, despite Severus' maneuvering.  He had no real hold on the boy.  But what he saw on Harry's face was unmasked relief.  Almost like he was glad. 

Clearly then, he had been right about the need for boundaries.  Harry was not mature enough to choose between his health and his friends, and was relieved to have the choice taken from him.  Plus, this way, no one would give the boy grief, as once again Snape would be the bad guy.

Ignoring the scowl from Weasley, and the disconcertingly knowing look from Granger, he turned to leave the room with a simple "Five minutes, Harry" as his parting words.