Monday morning finally rolled around, and with it came more than a few surprises. For starters, those students with Potions that morning found an empty classroom and a detailed note on the board for what their homework was to be for the next week.

The other surprise was announced at breakfast that morning.

"Students, may I have your attention please?" Dumbledore stated loudly, using sonorous to broadcast his voice throughout the hall.

The Great Hall quieted down immediately. The headmaster, although still a formidable force, looked decidedly worse for wear that day; even his clothes were less garish than usual.

"Professor Lupin has had a family emergency and does not look to be back with us in the immediate foreseeable future."

The room broke out into excited whispers, only to be silenced with a harsh look from Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore turned and nodded tiredly at her and then continued his announcement.

"It has been decided that I will be taking over all DADA classes for the remainder of the term. Thank you." He cancelled the spell and sat down as the hall burst into loud and questioning hubbub.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione sat in the midst of wildly gesticulating students, her mind racing as she ignored their hyper and inane conjectures regarding what Dumbledore had just told them.

Harry hadn't returned to the tower that previous Friday and she was very worried about him. She had been to McGonagall about her concerns, and although the older woman had listened to her and promised to look into the matter, her fears were still quite present within her mind.

What would cause Professor Lupin to disappear at the same time as Harry? As she looked at the head table, she also noted with some unease that Professor Snape was also absent.

"You gonna talk to McGonagall again?" Ron asked from beside her, his mouth half full as usual.

"I might just go straight to the headmaster this time," she answered slowly, a determined gleam coming into her eye.

"Well, leave me out of it. If she says he's fine, then he is," Ron shrugged and went back to eating.

"But she didn't say that at all! She just said that there he was involved in some kind of situation."

At the head table, she noticed that Professor Dumbledore had gotten up and was already halfway across the Great Hall.

"He's leaving!" She hissed as she grabbed her book bag and gave a glare to Ron. "Are you coming or not?"

"Hermione! I haven't finished eating!"

"Fine!" She huffed angrily and then took off across the hall.

She caught up to Dumbledore just at the entryway, her breath pounding loudly in her ears as she tried to ignore the whispers and catcalls of the other students.

"Professor—!" She panted out.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered, his usual twinkle noticeably dimmed in his tired eyes.

"Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me where Harry was?"

The older man's hand came out as though to pat her shoulder, but it stopped halfway and dropped back down to his side before completing the distance.

"Let's not talk here, Miss Granger," and he directed her out into the hall and towards his office.

"He didn't come back to the dorms on Friday, even though he had a lesson with Professor Lupin! And now Lupin is gone, and I noticed that Professor Snape wasn't at breakfast either!" She explained her worries quickly as they walked down the hallway, trying to keep her voice low. "What's going on sir?"

They had reached the gargoyle and Dumbledore leaned in close to its stone head and whispered something that sounded a great deal like 'everlasting gobstoppers.' The gargoyle must have understood though, because it immediately slid aside. The headmaster wordlessly waved her inside and they rode the stairwell to the top in silence. It wasn't until they were safely ensconced in his office, with the desk in-between them that he gave any kind of answer at all.

"Miss Granger, I would offer you tea, but as we both have class in less than fifteen minutes, I'm afraid that we simply do not have the time," he said with an apologetic smile.

"Where's Harry, sir?" She asked in a faint voice.

"He is safe, dear child. He is with a very trusted friend of mine."

"But why?" She pressed onwards.

Dumbledore brought his hands together and peered benignly across the desk at her. "Have you heard the reports regarding Sirius Black?"

"I know he's the first prisoner ever to have escaped Azkaban," she answered, feeling confused. What did that have to do with anything?

"Indeed he is," Dumbledore said with a small nod of approval. "What you might not know is that he is also Harry's godfather."

"I-I knew that," she stuttered softly, dropping her head in embarrassment as she revealed her knowledge. "Harry overheard Mr. Weasley talking about it."

"Ah, I see." Dumbledore answered. "Then what I'm about to tell you may or not be a surprise, but it is still something that does not need to leave this room. Do you understand?" His eyes glowed unnaturally bright for a moment and she gave a jerky nod of her head.

"Sirius Black escaped and is largely believed to be coming after Harry. But you knew that, didn't you," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Although the sightings are believed to have died off, last week I was made aware that Black is still in the area. That, combined with Mr. Potter's bad habit of wandering off the grounds at inopportune times," here his eyes flashed with what felt like a warning at her, causing her to gulp nervously. "I have decided that for his safety, it would be best if Harry were to go into hiding for a short while."

Who is Harry staying with? Dumbledore mentioned that he was with a trusted friend, but whom is he referring to?

A wash of cold abruptly rushed through her gut and she flinched and then stared accusingly back up at him.

"He's with Professor Snape, isn't he?"

"Miss Granger—," Dumbledore tried to soothe, but she wasn't listening.

"Professor Snape hates Harry! You can't possibly be serious," she spluttered, only to be cut off with a stern glare reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

"I am quite serious, Hermione," he answered in a soft voice, a wave of strong magic building around him. His use of her given name spoken with such magical intent caused her to slump backwards in her seat and she stared dumbly back at him.

"It is time for us to continue our day. Come, we must get you to class and I need to go to the defense classroom."

She didn't know what he had done, but it felt as though her limbs were being worked by someone else. She jerkily made it to her feet and stiffly picked up her bag.

"I am sorry that you feel Harry isn't safe with Severus, but I would hope you would believe me when I told you I had only his best interests in mind."

Her body was moving easier, but her extremities were extremely cold, almost as though she had been outside for too long and was just starting to warm up. Now she did feel his hand on her shoulder, pushing her in the correct direction, and once again they rode down the stairwell in silence. Only this time, it was because she literally could not make her mouth work.

Once they were back in the hallway, she felt the headmaster pat her shoulder once more and then turn and rush off in another direction. She made it to her class in time, but only just. The compulsion to keep silent didn't wear off until halfway through first period, and by the time she could speak again, she found her mind too full of theories and questions to bother doing so.

. . .

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" Harry asked him shyly that morning during breakfast.

Severus glanced up from his bowl of oatmeal at the child sitting opposite him. Harry was chewing his lip and wiggling nervously in his seat as he waited for Snape's reaction.

Although the question reeked of impertinence, he really couldn't find it in himself to be angry at the boy. That previous night had witnessed not one, but two nightmares of bloodcurdling intensity, and they were both tired as a result. He had considered giving the child Dreamless Sleep, but he had been unable to properly rouse him in order to do so.

"We are both excused from class," Severus answered.

"Who's gonna take over your classes?"

"No one is. I have assigned projects for the rest of the week."

Harry's eyes grew wide and Severus sighed internally. It seemed that this conversation would have to happen now whether he wanted it or not.

"The rest of the week?" Harry whispered, his fidgeting completely stilled as he took in the new information.

"The headmaster has decided that you need some time off."

"Because I freaked out?" Harry asked him, his breath stuttering loudly in the silence between them.

Because he thinks I'm a freak? Harry's eyes added; their fear making his words more than palatable.

"You have been through an ordeal," Severus said in a slow voice, hoping to calm him before the inevitable panic attack started.

"He doesn't think I can handle it?" Harry's voice was hurt, and Severus had to do his best not to look at the tears beginning to gather in those green orbs.

"He doesn't think you should have to," Severus disagreed with a growl.

He watched patiently as Harry's small hands pushed his glasses up and knuckled away the insistent tears.

"I c-can you know," Harry whispered shakily, blinking hard. "I can handle it, really. I'm not weak," he added, tightly crossing his arms over his chest.

"It isn't a question of being weak."

Harry shook his head and started to speak as Severus stood up and went to kneel beside the child's chair.

Gripping the boy's chin with a hand, he said crisply, "You are not weak. No one thinks that. Understand?"

"I—," Harry started to say, but clamped his mouth closed after gazing back into Severus eyes for a moment.

"Yes sir."

. . .

Before he had learned about what Lupin had done to him, Harry wouldn't have cared so much about what Snape thought of him, but now it mattered a lot.

"I don't have to be coddled, sir." He said once breakfast had concluded.

"Good, as I do not coddle," Snape answered with an unpleasant curl of his upper lip.

Just hearing his snarky professor say something so normal made something inside his stomach relax a little.

"Come," Snape said, indicating that Harry should follow him across the room.

He was perplexed when he saw that they had stopped in front of the fireplace.

"Sir?" He asked. It had finally dawned on him that Snape was fully dressed, while he was still in yet another pair of the man's shrunken black pajamas, complete with borrowed woolen socks.

Snape threw a handful of floo powder into the open flame and called out, "Headmaster's office."

"Are you going somewhere?" He asked, not liking the idea of staying in his quarters by himself, but also not relishing the idea of traipsing around the castle in the man's pyjamas.

"We are, Harry," Snape answered curtly, holding out a long fingered hand to him.

A lump formed in his throat at the motion and he swallowed hard against the nostalgia that image raised in his mind. The Dursleys had never bothered to hold his hand, and on more than one occasion had actually tried to lose him.

Shyly he reached out his hand and grabbed hold on Snape's much larger one. The lump in his throat grew he felt the man's fingers tighten around his own, and then he felt himself being pulled forwards as they went through the green flames together.

As always, Harry tripped walking out of the fireplace, but Snape's firm grip kept him from falling.

"Ah, there you are," Dumbledore greeted them congenially.

Harry flinched backwards and tried to hide himself in the voluminous folds of Snape's teaching robes.

Stupid stupid stupid! It's the headmaster's office; you should have expected him to be here.

Harry felt his cheeks grow hot as he hid his face against Snape's side, but even with his extreme embarrassment, he couldn't bring himself to look up.

"No shoes, Severus?" The headmaster admonished from the other side of his professor.

And then there was a rush of magic around his feet and suddenly Harry found himself wearing a pair of slightly scuffed trainers. He opened his mouth to say something, to thank the headmaster, but nothing would come out of his mouth. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Dumbledore, let alone speak.

Feeling somewhat mortified, he looked straight up into Snape's piercing eyes and made a sort of strangled sound in his throat.

"Yes Albus, thank you for correcting that oversight," Snape answered stiffly for him, dark eyes not moving from his own.

"Thank you sir," he managed to whisper, feeling relieved when Snape gave a tiny almost imperceptible nod in response.

"Where shall you be flooing to?" Dumbledore's voice pierced the moment and he couldn't help but flinch again. Snape's unoccupied hand found his shoulder and gave a brief squeeze.

"The Leaky Cauldron," his professor said, glancing over his shoulder at the headmaster.

"And from there?" Dumbledore asked, sounding more and more like Mrs. Weasley did when talking to one of her brood.

"Muggle London."

Silence, then Dumbledore said, "Likely a safer option."

For what? Harry wondered, looking steadily up at Snape.

"Have a good trip," the headmaster said as he felt Snape's hand on his shoulder once more, directing him to the fireplace.

"What are we doing?" Harry whispered.

Snape's face twitched and then his expression became unreadable once more.

"Shopping."

"Sir?" He blinked in surprise.

"For clothes."

"For me?" He squeaked.

"Yes," Snape retorted testily, throwing the floo powder in finally and calling out "Leaky Cauldron" as their destination.

And then that hand around his was pulling him forwards, and he was falling headfirst through the swirling green flames.