Snape sat in a chair next to Harry's usual bed in the infirmary. His knuckles were white from gripping the arm rests too hard, but the headmaster had yet to notice. Pomfrey was busy deciphering the results from her latest scan on the boy. Harry himself was pale against the white pillow, but otherwise seemed to be fine.

Thundering footsteps approached and Snape looked up in time to see a tearful Hagrid walk into the room. The half-giant was blubbering in his thick accent before the headmaster could greet him.

"I did'na know! I woulda never, never'da done it if I'd know!" Hagrid howled in obvious distress. He came to stand over Harry, twisting his hands together. "Sorry, professor,"

"I don't understand what you are going on about. Is this about that damned dog of yours?" Snape asked, voice colder than necessary, his concern for Harry masked with a biting indifference to the gate keeper's emotions.

"No! No! 'Course not. It's 'Arry, isn't it? And it's all my fault. If I-"

"What do you mean?" Snape interrupted, standing to his feet. "What about Harry?"

Here Hagrid wiped at the stream of tears watering his beard. "He's imprinted on Fluffy!" The half-giant collapsed onto a nearby bed, the structure groaning under his weight, and burst into sobs.

This was not good. The headmaster looked down at his son and then back over at the other man. He had a vague idea that what Hagrid had said was not a good thing, but his knowledge about familiars and imprinting was rusty at best. He would need the man to pull himself together.

"Pomfrey!" Snape called out.

"Here," she answered sheepishly from where she had been hovering next to her office door, listening to the exchange with growing worry. "What do you need, Severus?"

"A Calming Draught to start, thank you," he said.

She turned and disappeared, returning moments later with a vial in her hands. The mediwitch walked over to Hagrid and patted his shoulder, handing over the vial. Sniffing loudly, Hagrid carefully took it from her, the vial cartoonishly small between his thumb and index finger, and drank it in one sip. Its effects were almost immediate. Pomfrey stayed by his side though, continuing to pat his shoulder.

"Now, what did you mean about Harry imprinting on Fluffy?" Snape asked once he was certain the gate keeper was coherent.

Sniffling miserably, Hagrid said, "Fluffy's been comin' up on 'is imprint day for a while now. I was out walki' 'im when I saw 'Arry. We was talkin' when...when..." The man steadied himself, scrubbing his face with both hands. "...when it started. I didna know at first what had happened, but then I tried. I tried, professor. I told 'Arry to run. But the bond was already made, wasn't it."

"Bond? What does that mean? Why is my son lying on this bed, Hagrid? What is happening to him!" Snape's calm demeanor slipped for a moment as his desperation flared into anger. The headmaster stopped, took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How do we break it?"

"We don't," the half-giant said quietly. "They're bonded now, fer better or fer worse."

"Then why is Harry unconscious?" Snape asked through gritted teeth.

Hagrid shrugged helplessly. "I never seen a bond in real life. There's only one man who'd know, Angus Wilcox, he wrote a whole mess of books about familiars and bonding."

"Can you retrieve this Wilcox, Hagrid?" the headmaster asked.

Hagrid stood, his expression one of consternation. "O' course, professor! I'll go now, shall I?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea." Snape leaned over so that he could look around the man to the mediwitch. "Pomfrey, perhaps some Calming Draught for his trip."

She nodded. "Good idea. Hagrid, come with me. You can use the floo in my office."

The two disappeared into the office, leaving Snape standing over his son. He had so few answers and too many questions. Sitting back down, he reached out and smoothed the dark bangs out of his son's face. Snape once again marveled at how innocent and unmarked by violence Harry seemed when he slept. Even the lightening bolt scar - his once strong connection to Voldemort - was gone.

Chin trembling minutely, Snape took Harry's hand in his own and brought it up to his cheek. "Come back to me, Harry," he whispered.

-

It was nearly an hour later when Pomfrey's office door opened once again and out came a tall, bald man with regal bearing and impeccable posture and Pomfrey at his side. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, well. This is the bond-mate, I presume," the newcomer said in a clipped English accent. He motioned vaguely in Harry's direction.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Wilcox," Pomfrey said.

"Now, none of that. It's Angus - Angie to my friends, of which I most certainly consider you one, m'lady," he gave a half-bow. The woman blushed. "I'll need to see his earlier scan results."

"Of course." Pomfrey drew her wand and within moments a golden chart was floating in the air, certain areas of it flashing a worrying red.

Snape watched this all impassively. Angus Wilcox looked about as helpful as Gildroy Lockhart, but the Slytherin knew when to wait and watch rather than assume. So he settled back in his chair, obsidian eyes taking everything in, his hand still clutching Harry's in a protective embrace.

"Ah, I see. Not good, not good," Wilcox said, humming and hawing between words. He scratched his bare chin and continued squinting at the test results. "How soon after the bond was introduced did he become unconscious?"

Beside the bed, Snape's fingers tightened around his son's wrist. "Within minutes," he said.

Angus turned to the headmaster, as if just noticing his presence. "That is good to know. Anything else that you remember? Was the boy trying to reach the Cerebus or saying anything out of the ordinary?"

"He was in obvious pain and quite...dissociated by the time I arrived on the scene. Hagrid would have better answers, I'm certain," Severus said.

"Your giant friend is off on a little mission for me, but he did tell me everything as he saw it and, unfortunately, his attention was quite focused on the Cerebus - Fluffy, was it? - at the time," Wilcox said. The man heaved a sigh. "I believe the dissociation was due to the boy's ignorance."

"Excuse me?" Snape's voice was level, but frozen around the edges.

"It's not an admonishment!" Wilcox said hurriedly, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Anyone with a weak mind would have been stuck to that creature's side without a moment's hesitation. It speaks to young Potter's strength of will that instead of falling prey to the needs of the newly formed bond, he retreated within himself for safety. Perfectly normal," the man assured Snape. "Normal, but problematic."

Wilcox went back to scratching his chin, failing to elaborate. The headmaster brushed his hand over Harry's pale cheek, checking for a change in temperature, but he felt only slightly colder than normal. It was pure hell listening to the click, clack, click, clack of Angus Wilcox's black leather boots hitting the infirmary floor when all Snape wanted to do was make Harry magically better.

"I am a potions master, is there not a draught or something that can alleviate his symptoms?" Severus dared not look up as he asked.

"Hm. Perhaps. If you had some Cerebrus blood on hand that could certainly give the boy some of his strength back. Maybe even wake him. Though I'm not sure that's what we want at the moment," Wilcox cautioned.

"Accio Cerebrus Blood," Snape commanded without hesitation.

The large purple vial appeared several minutes later, crashing through the infirmary doors at speed. Snatching it out of the air, Snape turned to Wilcox and raised a questioning eyebrow. The bald man nodded in defeat.

"Alright, you can wake him but no strenuous activity. Three drops should do it."

Snape measured out the amount and opened Harry's mouth, allowing 3 even drops to land in on his tongue. The boy swallowed automatically, grimacing in his sleep. His eyelids began to flutter and then Harry was looking up at his father with a mixture of relief and desperation.

"Fluffy needs me," Harry whispered hoarsely. "I need to get to Fluffy."

Gently pressing the boy against the mattress, Snape shook his head. "No, Harry. Everything will be fine, but you need to stay here. You aren't well."

Harry whimpered and the sound cut through the headmaster's chest like a knife. "I need...I need. Fluffy? Why do I need Fluffy? No. No, Fluffy needs me!"

"It is as I feared. He was better of asleep," Wilcox said sadly.

A calming draught appeared in front of Harry and his father urged him to drink it which he did with a confused frown. The effects were immediate. The boy slumped back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling with an unhappy expression. "Fluffy," he repeated the word endlessly in a soft whisper.

"Well, that's that, I'm afraid. Best you can do for the boy as long as the bond is still rather weak."

"It does not appear to be weak," Pomfrey pointed out, speaking a bit louder to be heard over the boy's mumblings.

"Ah, but, my dear, the bond's strength is determined by proximity. If he had gone to the creature right away there would have been no helping either of them until the melding of their magics was complete. As it is, he is not currently sharing any of his magical core. You would know if he were."

"I see," Pomfrey said, paling.

"Perhaps we should move him to my quarters?" Snape suggested. "They are deeper in the castle and the wards might even be helpful."

"Ah, yes. Good idea!" Wilcox agreed.

Drawing the nearly incoherent boy into his arms, Severus allowed Pomfrey to lead the way into her office. The trip would be much quicker through the floor system. Looking down at his son, Snape felt his heart constrict painfully. Harry's eyes were glassy and staring at nothing while his mouth moved, repeating the one word over and over. Praying his ordeal would be over soon, the headmaster threw down floo powder and was consumed by green flames.