Severus was weary, and he knew there would be no rest for at least an hour. Albus was expecting him shortly for a meeting, and he could guess what the subject matter was.

As he let himself into the Headmaster’s office, he was greeted by the standard offer of a lemon drop. One day I may take one, he thought sarcastically; just to give the old man a thrill. Perhaps as a retirement gift.

“I imagine you’ve surmised why we are here, Severus.”

“Feel free to shock me by telling me this isn’t about Potter.”

“Ah. I have become predictable, it seems.”

Snape rolled his eyes. Become?

“How is young Harry doing?”

“He is well. As I believe I mentioned, there is no need to worry. Not to the excessive degree you and Minerva McGonagall seem to be.”

“He is not talking yet.”

“Is he answering in class? Incanting when he is required?”

“Yes, of course. But he is not speaking otherwise.”

“On the contrary. He speaks to me.” He could see the momentary look of surprise on Dumbledore’s face, and Severus could not deny the spark of pride that lighted within him. True the boy was hardly giving rousing monologues, but he was speaking.

“Is he speaking to his friends?”

“I would hardly know. I do not sit in on Gryffindor chat sessions.”

“While I certainly can appreciate the improvements he has made in opening up to you, it concerns me that he isn’t the same boy who arrived here in September.”

“And perhaps he never will be. A lot has happened to the boy this year, and I think everyone is expecting too much of a first year student. Perhaps he never really was that boy to begin with,” Severus surmised softly.

Albus seemed sad at the thought, but continued on. “There is still a discussion to be had about summer arrangements for Harry. Since you insinuated that you would like to be involved in any major decisions involving young Mr. Potter...”

“If you think that I am about to stand by as a bit player in this conversion...”

“I would hardly presume.”

“And yet you presume there is still a decision to be made about where Mr. Potter will be staying this summer.”

“Perhaps it would be wise to stop playing Slytherin word games, my boy.” The rebuke was mild, but Snape still felt colour rising to his cheeks.

“I see no reason to increase the amounts of upheaval in his life. The current situation is satisfactory, so I would suggest we retain it.”

“You are suggesting Harry stay with you for the summer?”

“I am.” He decided it wouldn’t hurt to be diplomatic. “Provided you have no objections?”

“None. Only that you of course get Harry’s agreement to your proposition.”

“Of course,” he murmured.

********

They weren't with Hagrid long before the giant let slip what had happened.

He hadn't been all that forthcoming at first, but soon he was mumbling curiously about how many people seemed to be interested in "Fluffy" these days, and it wasn't long before he divulged the key points of his card game and the mysterious stranger he'd played it with.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked back to their common room in silent concern.

"Hagrid really needs to be more careful," Hermione finally sighed as they stepped through the portrait hole.

"Tell me about it!" Ron exclaimed. "I mean, sure he wanted the dragon egg, but why go yapping on about his dog?"

'It wasn't a coincidence.' Harry wrote as soon as he was able.

He couldn't help but notice his friends matching looks of disappointment, but he just wasn't ready yet. While he could finally admit that his fear of speaking had been based on the idea that his -- teacher -- would abandon him thereafter, even though he was now speaking to the man in question, he found himself reluctant and shy with everyone else. Especially after all this time.

Shaking the guilt off, he continued writing. 'How likely is it that a man walks into the village with a dragon egg, just the thing Hagrid wants, and he just *happens* to ask questions about how to get past a dog that's clearly guarding something?'

"So you think someone talked to Hagrid on purpose?"

Harry nodded emphatically.

"Well in that case we really ought to tell Professor McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed.

They ran down the empty corridors towards the transfiguration classroom and slid to a halt in front of the desk where their Head of House was currently seated.

"Professor we need to talk to you!" Hermione began, slightly out of breath.

She raised an eyebrow at them, looking suspiciously like Snape, Harry thought. He wondered vaguely if the ability to arch a brow was part of the requirements for teaching staff at Hogwarts.

"The lot of you ought to be in your dorms, it's late." She looked back down to her papers, as if to dismiss them, when Ron broke in.

"We think someone's trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone!"

Their professor paled slightly and then demanded, “How do you know about the Stone?”

“It was simple really, we just put together all the pieces of the puzzle, like the dog and the vault and -- ” Hermione started in, using her best student voice.

“Enough Miss Granger. The three of you listen to me, and listen well. You are not to concern yourself with the stone. It is well protected, you can trust me on that.”

“But --”

“No buts, off with the three of you, surely you have something better to do than this nonsense.”

With that they were summarily dismissed, and Harry couldn’t help but think See, talking never gets you anywhere. No one ever listens.

********

They had barely stepped out of the portrait hole later that night when a lamp flared to their left. Harry’s heart leapt into his throat at the thought that they’d been caught out by Filch, and then proceeded to plummet into his stomach at the sight of Professor Snape.

“The last time I checked, portraits didn’t open and close themselves. Reveal yourself immediately Mr. Potter, or I will gladly Accio your cloak and do the revealing for you.”

Oh God. Snape hadn’t spoken to him in that tone in ages. Harry took a brief moment to ensure his face looked calmer than he felt before flinging the invisibility cloak back.

Severus paused only long enough to meet Harry’s eyes with a look of disappointment before commenting, “Well, all three of you heading off into trouble. How shocking.”

“Sir,” Hermione popped up, “we were just --”

“Spare me the excuses. At the very least you are out wandering the castle well past your bedtime.” Harry flushed hotly at the use of the childish phrase. He could have at least said ‘curfew’. “Not to mention the fact that the use of the cloak implies you are up to something you know is prohibited. The three of you will march yourselves straight down to my quarters. I believe Mr. Potter knows the way.”

Harry sighed and turned to lead the way down to the man’s workrooms, but before he could even take a step he was stopped by the sound of Snape clearing his throat rather pointedly. With a glare that he couldn’t prevent, he bunched up his cloak and handed it over.

He wasn’t sure why their teacher didn’t follow directly behind them, but by the time he strode into the room Harry, Ron and Hermione had been there for several minutes, staring at each other in worry.

That worry only increased when Snape shut the door behind him with a rather thunderous slam.

“What were you doing?”

“Just what you saw, sir, walking around the castle.” Ron offered.

“Do not presume to play games with me Mr. Weasley. You will lose. You know exactly what I meant. What were you going to do?”

“Well, professor, there’s this book in the restricted section --”

Severus wasn’t paying any attention to the Granger girl’s weak attempt at an excuse. His eyes were on Harry, who was clearly uncomfortable with the tales his friends were telling. The boy’s lips were pressed together so hard they’d turned white, and the sleeves of his jumper were clutched in his fists. He met Harry’s eyes, hoping the message was clear.

Do not lie to me. Gather that Gryffindor bravery and speak your mind.

“We were going after the Philosopher’s Stone! We think someone’s trying to steal it,” Harry finally burst out.

“I know.”

All three children gaped at him. It would have been gratifying if it weren’t for their utter recklessness.

“Your Head of House informed me of the conversation she had with you earlier this evening.”

“You knew this whole time?! Then why bother with all of that just now?”

“Mr. Weasley, I suggest you use your talent for strategy on something other than chess and learn when to keep your mouth shut!”

Severus did allow himself to smirk then, as he watched the youngest Weasley struggle between anger at the admonition and shock at the implied compliment. Shaking himself out of it, he focused once more on The-Boy-Who-Managed-to-Sneak-Into-His-Life.

“You are not to go anywhere near that stone. It is hidden for a reason, and there are precautions in place to guard it that three first years should not be mucking about with. You are to stay out of danger, do I make myself clear?”

“But what about someone stealing it? There was this man with Hagrid wondering about the dog and --” Harry began to argue, but as he suspected, he didn’t get to finish his thought.

“I share your concerns, believe me. If it will ease all our minds I will go check on the stone tonight myself.”

“What?! You just said it was dangerous and that we couldn’t go! Why would you go instead?” Harry yelled.

“Because I am the adult and you are the child!” The anger and frustration must have been evident in his tone and volume, because all three gryffindors cowered slightly.

That only increased his frustration. If the stone truly was in danger he didn’t have time to coddle children. However it was clear that despite Harry’s desire for a parent, he had no idea how such a relationship was supposed to work.

Growling he turned back towards his student – his son – and crouched down at the boy’s eye level. This was important.

“You told me the other day that you wanted a father, did you not?” Harry swallowed and nodded slightly. They both ignored the gasps from his friends. “Well Harry, this is what fathers --” he was cut off by his own vivid memory of Lily, and the sacrifice she had made. “This is what parents do. They protect their children.”

He could see the understanding, or at least an attempt to grasp the idea alight in Harry’s eyes. He was about to stand again when a small hand clutched at the sleeve of his robes.

Harry leaned in towards him and whispered into his ear, as if sharing a precious secret. “I’m scared.”

Severus suddenly found it difficult to swallow. He could hear what Harry didn’t say. Never one for empty promises he simply stated,

“A brave man is not one who does not feel afraid, but one that goes on in spite of that fear*. Remember that Harry.”

With that he stood, “If I am not back here in three hours go fetch your head of house.”

Fishing something out of the pocket of his robes, he handed it to Harry, who scowled down at it, recognizing his second coupon of obedience – the last of his Christmas gift to Snape.

“You don’t need to use this. I’m not going to go anywhere.”

“Consider it my insurance. Three hours.” And with that, he strode purposefully out the door.