“I won’t tell anyone I used you as a pillow!  I promise, sir!”

Snape’s lips quirk briefly into the semblance of a smile.

“I meant in regard to the conversation that we had with you and the other heads-of-house.”

Oh.

“Sorry, sir.”

Snape waves a hand at him dismissively.  

“You are hardly the first student who has curled up next to me.  I am a head-of-house. I am used to dealing with tears.”

Oh.  

“McGonagall, um Professor McGonagall,” He corrects himself as he catches the small frown that Snape is giving him.  “She doesn’t get cried on much, I don’t think.”

“She does during exams.  I should know. I have to hear her complaints.”

He grins in spite of himself.  

. . .

He soon discovers that he knows the castle better than he thought.  Secret passages become easier to stumble upon, and the stairs are working in his favour more often than not.

He doesn’t think anything of it until Hermione points it out.  He can’t give her any of his theories, considering he isn’t allowed to talk of his change in guardianship, but he suspects it has something to do with Hogwarts herself.

Perhaps she is keeping a closer eye on him.

He likes that theory.