"Harry, up! You have twenty minutes before class," Severus Snape called down the hall of his quarters toward his adoptive son's closed bedroom door. "Don't make me use Aguamenti."

There was a muffled thump and some frantic scrambling. "M'up!" Harry yelled.

Snape went about his morning routine of preparing breakfast and giving one last look to the day's class schedules. Harry appeared, hair standing on end and eyes heavy with sleep, several minutes later. The boy slumped into a chair at the table while he struggled into his robes. Snape watched in amusement as Harry thrust an arm through the neck hole and tried to pull a sleeve over his head. Smirking at the tired Gryffindor, the headmaster flicked his wand and instantly the clothes swirled into their rightful positions.

Harry blinked up at him owlishly. "Thanks."

"Just how late did you stay up last night?" Snape asked, taking a seat across from his son.

Harry yawned widely in answer, his jaw popping. "Dunno. Charms essay."

"I see." Obsidian eyes turned hard. "I hope this does not indicate a new trend in your sleeping habits."

"No-pe." Harry said around another yawn.

"Quite right," Snape said with a satisfied nod.

They ate in companionable silence, broken only by the crunch of toast and tin-tink of cutlery. When they finished, Snape wiped his mouth with a napkin and then banished the empty dishes to the kitchen.

Harry raised his hand and started to say, "Acc-", when he caught Snape's glare. "I'll just go get it," the boy said sheepishly. He retreated down the hall and returned moments later with his book bag. "I guess I'll see you at lunch." Harry fidgeted with edge of his gown. "I'll probably stay in the dorm tonight," he added carefully.

"Thank you for letting me know," the headmaster said gently.

The man knew how hard it was for his son to be vocal about certain things - sleeping arrangements being one of them - because of the way his Aunt and Uncle had reacted. Making slow, wide movements, Snape stood and put a hand on the boy's shoulders. He gave them a brief squeeze before turning away and heading toward the door. Harry watched him go with a small smile and a warm heart. He fingers stilled their anxious movement and he adjusted his book bag, following in his father's wake.

-

It was blindingly sunny and the sky was a ceiling of clear blue when Harry stumbled out of Herbology. He rubbed at a bruise on his chin where a Bouncing Bulb had clipped him.

"Stupid things," he grumbled darkly under his breath.

"'Aye, 'Arry!"

The boy turned at Hagrid's booming voice. The half-giant was walking toward him, waving. In his other hand, he held a leash attached to the one creature Harry had hoped to never see again. Eyes widening in disbelief and panic. Hagrid was practically on top of him within a few moments with the three headed Cerberus, Fluffy, panting happily at his side. One of the heads was fast asleep, but the other two were pulling impatiently forward.

"H-Hagrid," Harry greeted the gate keeper, gaze stuck on the three mouths with their rows of shiny white teeth. "It's sharp to see you. . .uh, good. It's good to see you."

Hagrid laughed off the boy's slip and slapped a beefy hand on Fluffy's middle head. The creature licked it, giving a growl of contentment. Harry started at the sound, his whole body tense and waiting for Fluffy to lunge forward, mouths open. When that didn't happen, Harry carefully edged to Hagrid's far side, putting the half-giant between himself and the Cerebus.

"I'm just takin' ol' Fluffy 'here for a bit of a walk," Hagrid explained. "Tis nearin' 'is imprint phase. Canna be too careful," he said that last in a stage whisper, nodding in the creature's direction.

Lost, Harry simply smiled. It was at that moment that a piercing howl shook the ground. Even Hagrid looked alarmed.

"Fluffy w'as wrong?" Hagrid said, turning to the creature.

Another howl rent the air and Harry slapped his hands over his ears. There was something soul-haunting about the sound. It made him feel lost and alone like he was stranded in some far off desert with no way of reaching home. Afraid of what might happen next, but not wanting to leave Hagrid's side in case he needed assistance, Harry hovered several feet away from the half-giant and Cerebrus. He could see now that the head that had been sleeping was the one now making the plaintive sounds. Just as he was about to give up and make a run for the castle doors, Harry made eye contact with the animal. All three heads stood at attention, ears facing the boy, listening.

"Fluffy? W'a...Oh....Oh, no."

Hagrid's words were enough to send Harry into full panic mode. Nothing had ever frightened the gate keeper, but there was an undercurrent of fear in his voice now.

"'Arry, you get inside quick," Hagrid ordered, his voice hard as steel.

No further invitation needed, Harry turned and sprinted full out for the castle, tearing through the front doors. It was only as he came to a crashing halt amid a mob of sixth years that he thought of where the rest of his class had gotten to. He had been too distracted by Fluffy's appearance. It wasn't just the sixth years crowding the front hall, it seemed like all the students were pressing against the windows and looking between the sliver of open doors to see outside.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Is it dying?"

"What if it eats Hagrid!"

"Nothing can eat Hagrid, stupid."

"What if Hagrid eats it?"

"Shut up, arsehole. This is serious."

The rush of young voices fell over Harry as he gasped for breath, his heart beating too fast. Something was wrong with him. He had an almost overwhelming need to turn right around and go back out to the creature. Fluffy needed him. Just thinking that left Harry horrified.

"Dad," he whispered hoarsely, not realizing it had been said aloud.

"Harry! Harry are you okay?" Hermione called as she pushed past students to reach the boy. Ron was right at her heels. "Oh, Harry we were so worried about you!"

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, his eyes bugged out, "We knew something bad was up when we saw that bloody thing."

"I need...I need dad," Harry ground out the words.

Hermione latched onto his forearm, brow furrowing. "Who? Oh." Her eyes lit in understanding and she considered something for a moment before flicking her wand. A translucent river otter appeared and then galloped down the hall. "He's coming, Harry. Everything's going to be okay," she soothed.

-

In the potion's classroom Snape had already been alerted to the disturbance by the castle's wards. He had directed his students to return to their respective dorm rooms and was spelling the cauldrons, full of volatile liquids, to stasis when an otter patronus burst through the floor in front of him.

An echo of student voices was muffled by Hermione's worried tone. "Harry needs you, headmaster. We're in the front hall."

Snape was out the door and halfway to the nearest staircase before the otter had time to dissipate. His black robes billowed around him like an angry storm cloud.

-

Fluffy needed him. The thought superseded all others.

Harry clutched at the breast of his robes, no longer coherent enough to hear anything. He could only see lips moving, but no sound reached him. He needed Snape. He needed his dad. At that moment, a familiar hand fell on his shoulder and the chaos of the front hall erupted into silence.

"I'm here, Harry," Snape enunciated carefully, not wanting to startle the boy further.

Outside the howls had tapered off into loud whimpers of discontent interspersed with sharp growls. Hagrid's calming voice muttered nonsense words to the creature, trying to calm it in much the same way that Snape now soothed his son.

"It's alright. Everything's alright. I'm here, Harry."

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the boy looked up from under a too-long fringe of black hair. "Dad?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, I'm here," his father assured him.

At that moment the noises outside abruptly ceased. Harry's body jerked and his eyes rolled back in his head. Snape caught his son before he could hit the floor. Scooping the boy up in his arms, the headmaster stood and strode purposefully toward the infirmary, the sea of students parting before him. The Slytherin's face was a stoic mask, his mouth set in a grim line, and his long fingers tightened around the precious boy in his arms.