Severus stared at the drawing in shock. He could practically feel the emotion radiating off of it. Suddenly a previous conversation came rearing to the front of his consciousness. That Granger girl, poking her nose into things that don’t involve her. As always.

”He’s got a sign for you professor.”

“I am well aware of that Miss Granger.”

“Well, actually, it’s two signs.”

“And your point being?”

“I just thought you might want to know, that’s all.”

“I am more than aware, thank you.”

She walked away for a few steps, and he thought for a moment the conversation was over. But then she spun back on her heel and asked

“Don’t you want to know what they mean?!”

He folded his arms in a sign of calmness that he did not quite feel.

“I have no doubt that Mr. Potter will tell me when he is ready to do so.”

Perhaps finding this drawing was the only sign he would ever get from the boy. He suddenly needed to find out what those signs were. With any luck he’ll have found the sign language equivalents for ‘Greasy Git’.

The first sign was easy to find. He had seen it before, marked down in the Ts – ‘teacher’. That made sense. In fact it made so much sense that he immediately wondered what Harry could have added to it. Then again, perhaps he didn’t want to know. He paused before turning back to the book once again.

It didn’t take long to find it. There, under the Fs. He stared for a few moments, his brain not really comprehending the words his eyes were seeing.

There, on the page, was the following description of the sign that had followed ‘teacher’ for the last several months.

Father, Dad, Daddy.

The last one knocked the breath out of his body. A thought flitted briefly through his mind. I wonder what version he was trying to use? However it did not have time to settle.

He sat down, hard, on Harry’s bed.

Obviously he had to talk to the child. At the very least, about the drawing. As for the other, well, that would have to be left for another time. He had the distinct idea that a conversation about the drawing would be hard enough on the boy. Bringing up the sign would be a disaster. Potter probably figured he would never find out what it meant. He almost wished he hadn’t.

The professor took his time walking to Gryffindor tower. He tried to come up with something professional and unemotional to say to the boy, but he failed at every turn.

Eventually he accepted that there was only one way to approach this: as a grown man who needed to lend some emotional guidance to a child.

He sneered to himself at the irony. Severus Snape had to teach Harry Potter not to be ashamed of his emotions.

He wondered briefly if the apocalypse was upon them.

********

The boy came bounding out of the tower a few minutes after the fat lady had gone to fetch him. He grinned up at his teacher and greeted the man with his personal sign. Snape resisted the frown that began to creep over his face at the dual implications of that sign. Potter would talk when he was ready. And if he knew the boy at all, not one minute before.

Pushing the thought out of his head he greeted Potter with a sharp nod.

“Gather your things, you will be staying overnight in the dungeons.”

Another few minutes later they were headed for his rooms, Snape striding down the hall at his regular pace, Harry beside him trying to keep up with a half jog, half skip. Every so often Snape would see this and moderate his speed only to find he had sped up again.

Oh well, a little exercise wouldn’t hurt.

Upon reaching his rooms he found himself at a loss as to how to approach the subject. He paced back and forth behind his desk for a few minutes, stopping only when he spotted Harry shrink back in his chair.

“Relax silly child. I just thought we should talk.”

Expectant big green eyes stared back at him, waiting for him to get to the point.

“Harry, I understand that things have been confusing, emotionally, for you lately. You understand that you’re not going back to the Dursley’s at the end of the year?”

Harry nodded, although it was far too hesitant for Snape’s taste.

“The Dursley’s were terrible guardians. They did not behave in any way properly towards you. They didn’t provide any support or guidance that any normal child needs. Children are not meant to raise themselves. When they are left to do so,” his fingers moved unconsciously to his left forearm, “bad things can happen.”

“It’s understandable and completely normal to want to have an adult in your life to fill the role your parents would have, had they lived.”

He knew what he was about to say was likely to be huge for the boy, thus he moved from behind his desk and stood in front of Harry. He even dropped to one knee so they were at equal eye level.

Harry’s eyes got impossibly wider at the unusual action. His teacher had only done that before when there were Big and Important Things going on. As for Snape, he could see the boy grow tense, moving into fight or flight mode as soon as his personal space was breached. The potions master he slowed, keeping his movements deliberate.

“Child,” he began, pausing briefly when Lily’s eyes blinked at him solemnly.

“When I was your age I was alone too. And I desperately wanted a father – one who didn’t beat me for every little infraction.” He could see the compassion on the little one’s face, and a hand came up to lay atop his in what he could only assume was an attempt to comfort. He almost couldn’t continue.

“I never really found one, but I can certainly understand the desire.”

Harry felt his heart start thudding faster in his chest. Was the professor reading his mind? What did he know? He took a huge breath and tried to shove his fears down under his feet. Grabbing his ever-present quill and parchment he scrawled out

‘I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?’

Severus had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that he wouldn’t need to confront the boy with what he had found. He had no desire to deal with more tears and questions, but what must be done, must be done, and Severus Snape was never one to shirk his duty. He pulled out the drawing from his robe and began to unroll it.

“I found this in your room, Harry.”

He could almost physically see the panic settle over his student.

********

The only thing Harry could think was Nonononononono. The word resounded at an incredible volume in his head. He had only seen the flash of colour on the parchment before he slammed his eyes shut.

He did not need to see the picture to know what it contained. He had drawn it last week in what he now considered a fit of childishness and sentimentality. He was horrified and embarrassed that his teacher had found it.

And if his teacher didn’t already think he was a stupid baby, he would now, because Harry could feel hot tears running down his cheeks. He scrubbed at them, hoping vainly to get rid of the evidence.

He needed to get out of here before he managed to do any permanent damage. If he left now, maybe Snape wouldn’t hate him forever for the liberties he had taken.

But Harry had barely pushed the chair back an inch when thin, icy fingers re-gripped his shoulders, pushing him back into the chair.

“Don’t take me for a fool.” And then, more softly, “I knew this would be difficult for you and that you would try to leave. I can’t allow you to do that. I’m not trying to be cruel, Harry, but it’s important that we talk about this.”

The boy still wouldn’t look at him, but he circled a fist against his chest. Severus recognized that sign all too well.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am not upset by this. In fact, your feelings flatter me. I find our new relationship. . .” he struggled, “. . . satisfying.” It was all he could bring himself to say.

He took another deep breath. He could say this; that was the easy part. It was the follow-up that would be difficult.

“I know you already have a father, Harry. And this drawing wasn’t a slight towards him. But unfortunately he isn’t here, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to form a similar relationship with someone who is. I am willing to play that role.”

That got Harry to look at him. It was clear he was trying to quash his hope. His shaking hands managed to write one word.

‘Really?’

“Yes, really.”

Harry’s whole body began to shake. Rather violently, Severus thought with mild worry. Merely a moment had passed when Harry ran from the room and threw himself onto his bed.

He gave into his panic, although he bit his fist to keep from making noise. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying in the first place. Snape had just offered to take care of him. Like a parent. That was a good thing wasn’t it?

He felt a familiar weight settle on the edge of his bed, and a hand come to rest on his back. It felt nice.

“Come now. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were rejecting my offer.”

Severus had meant it to lighten the mood. He’d even managed to put a non-sneer-like lilt in his voice. Apparently Harry hadn’t noticed, because he turned, horror and worry on his face.

“No!” came the shout as he threw himself at Severus, arms encircling his neck. The man was so stunned at the action that he almost didn’t notice the next muffled sound from the boy, whose face was now buried against his shoulder.

“Please. I want that. I do!”

A rather shell-shocked potions master returned the embrace.

Harry had spoken of his own free will. Finally.