Severus Snape was in a foul mood and there was only one reason for it: Harry Potter.

Not only had the brat had the nerve to skip his detention the previous evening, he had now seen it fit not to turn up to his class that morning.

Yes, that was exactly why he was so annoyed, Severus told himself. That was the reason why three first year students’ potions had been poured away, the reason why another two had detention tomorrow, and why Neville Longbottom was crying at the back of the classroom.

It was not because Severus was frustrated with the current situation, or because he wasn’t sure what on earth he had done to upset the boy so badly.

And it was most certainly not because he found himself actually missing the child’s presence in his life.

In addition, he had stayed up fairly late the night before, and the fatigue was beginning to set in during his final pre-lunch lesson. Of course, he had been unable to sleep on account of how much the brat had angered him – Potter was, after all, the first child that had ever dared to swerve one of his detentions. It was definitely not concern for the boy that had kept him from sleep.

As the first years began to pack their things away – some of them breathing sighs of relief that the class was finally over – Snape looked up from his desk.

 “Granger, Weasley – stay behind,” he said.

As the classroom emptied, Hermione approached him, looking a little nervous. Weasley lurked behind her, hands in his pockets.

 “Are we… in trouble, sir?” the girl asked.

The potions master arched a brow. “Should you be?”

Both children shook their heads furiously.

 “Good. Answer my questions truthfully and it shall remain that way,” Snape told them. “Mr Potter failed to present for his detention last night – would either of you care to explain why?”

Ron swallowed hard and Hermione opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

 “Furthermore, as I am sure you have noticed, he did not attend today’s class,” he continued.

Silence.

Snape leaned down until his face was inches from theirs.

 “Where. Is. He?” he asked, wondering if speaking to the two of them as though they were imbeciles was the only way to get results.

Ron scratched his head nervously. “I dunno. I don’t think I saw him at breakfast, did you ‘Mione?”

 “No? How about in the dormitory that you no doubt share with him?” Snape asked, irritated.

Hermione sighed. “Sir, please. Harry’s… he wasn’t in class today because… he’s…”

 “Ye-es?” Snape drawled.

 “He’s in the infirmary,” she said quickly.

 “He’s gonna kill you,” Ron hissed.

 “Doubtful,” Snape told him. “The whole story please.”

Hermione hesitated.

 “W-well… what it is… you see…” Ron began.

 “Let us start with the reason Mr Potter chose not to attend my detention last night,” Snape said. “And since it appears that Weasley has lost the ability to string a sentence together, perhaps you would care to enlighten me, Miss Granger?”

 “He was going to come, sir. Really, he was. But then… something happened and we needed to go and talk to Hagrid instead,” she explained.

It was all Severus could do to contain his anger. So that impertinent little whelp had the cheek to conclude that visiting the half-wit caretaker was somehow more important than attending a detention assigned by a professor.

 “And how pray did this little adventure end with Potter in the infirmary?” he demanded.

 “Malfoy snitched on us,” Ron said. “McGonagall gave us detention.”

 “Professor McGonagall,” Snape corrected him. “And rightly so. With any luck, Mr Potter will see it fit to attend this particular detention.”

 “We already did, sir. It was last night… in the Forbidden Forest,” Hermione explained.

 “I beg your pardon? Miss Granger, do you honestly expect me to believe that you were sent into the Forbidden Forest to serve a detention?” the potions master asked.

 “It’s true sir, we did. Malfoy too. Hagrid went with us,” Ron said.

 “Oh, well that’s alright then!” Snape snapped, sarcastically. “What was the aim of this little venture?”

 “Hagrid said something has been killing the unicorns in the forest. We were looking for one that had been injured,” Hermione told him. “We split into two groups. Ron and I went with Hagrid. Harry and Draco took Fang. We hadn’t been looking for long when…”

 “When?” Snape asked, folding his arms.

  “Malfoy was his usual pathetic self and left Harry with that thing…” Ron said, pulling a face.

The potions master looked between the two of them, confused.

 “Harry and Draco found the thing that had been killing the unicorns. It attacked Harry,” Hermione told him.

Snape felt his blood run cold.

 “And what type of creature was this?” he asked, trying to remain calm.

 “I… don’t know sir. By the time we got there, it had gone. One of the centaurs had chased it away. But Harry fell… I suppose he was trying to get away from it. He hit his head on a rock,” Hermione said. “That’s why he’s not in class today.”

For a moment, Snape said nothing.

And then he turned back to his desk.

 “Thank you. You may go,” he told the children as he cleared his own things away.

Ron was straight out of the door, but Hermione hung back.

 “Professor? There’s… something else…” she said, softly.  

Snape whipped back round to face her. “What is it, Miss Granger?”

 “I… I know you told me to mind my own business the other day but… I think you ought to know,” she began. “I spoke to Harry in the infirmary last night. And he’ll hate that I’ve told you this but…”

Snape felt his impatience growing.

 “What is it?” he asked again.

 “The reason Harry’s been so upset with you this last week…” Hermione told him. “He… overheard you talking to Professor Dumbledore. He thinks you don’t want him.”

OOOOOOO

Severus Snape could not recall the last time he had swept through the corridors in such a manner.

It wasn’t a run of course – more of a power walk, but nevertheless, anybody who got in his way – student or staff – was practically mowed down.

He eventually reached the hospital wing, and took a moment to compose himself outside – it would not do for Potter to think he had dropped everything to be here.

From outside, he could hear Madame Pomphrey talking to the boy.

 “….Seems like there’s not a week that goes by that you’re not in one of these beds, Mr Potter. You really should be more careful you know? Look up for me. No, open your eyes properly…”

Rounding the corner, Snape found that Harry was sat up in bed, supported by several pillows. He had a gash to his head, and generally looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Madame Pomphrey was leaning over the bed, using a lumos spell to shine a light into the boy’s eyes.

 “I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere just yet, Mr Potter. I’d like to keep you under observation a little longer,” she said.

Harry noticed the potions master then and the mediwitch followed his gaze, standing up straight.

 “Ah, Severus. Good afternoon. Can I help?” she asked, pleasantly.

Snape gave her a cordial nod. “Poppy. It… is in fact Mr Potter I am here to talk with.”

 “I’ve never known somebody have so many visitors!” she smiled. “I’ll leave you two in peace.”

Once she had disappeared down the other end of the ward, Snape sat on the edge of Harry’s bed and the two watched each other in silence for a moment.

 “If it’s about the detention…” Harry mumbled.  

Snape ignored him, reaching up his hand to brush the boy’s hair from his face and examine the gash on his head more closely.

 “Sir?” he asked in confusion.

 “I am not here to discuss the missed detention, Potter, though I am sure it is a conversation we will revisit at a later date,” the potions master told him. “I… heard about what happened last night in the Forbidden Forest, and I came to see how you were.”

Harry’s mouth hung open and he watched the professor, perplexed.

 “How are you feeling?” Snape asked.

 “A bit hazy sir,” Harry told him, truthfully. “And my head hurts a bit.”

There was another pause then, before the professor spoke again.

 “Mr Potter, it… has occurred to me that you may have overheard a conversation between myself and the headmaster recently which was not meant for your ears…” he began, feeling a little awkward.

Harry swallowed hard. “I wasn’t eavesdropping sir, honest. I didn’t mean to listen in, I just–”

 “Although I do not approve of eavesdropping, that is not the reason I have brought this up,” Snape told him. “I… am concerned that you may have heard some of the things I said… which were…”

 “It’s okay, sir,” Harry said softly. “I understand. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a nuisance. I didn’t mean to be, it’s just… I’ve never really had an adult be kind to me like you were. I guess it was just nice, you know? But I know that I’m not your problem, and you didn’t have to do any of the things you’ve already done. It’s okay that you don’t want me around – my own relatives don’t even want me, so it doesn’t make sense that anybody else would. So don’t worry about it.”

Snape shook his head. “Potter… I… said some things that day that were, perhaps, uncalled for…”

 “Sir, it’s–”

 “–Please, allow me to finish. As you will likely know by now, I am a man of very few words, particularly when it comes to voicing my… thoughts and feelings…” the potions master began, feeling thoroughly outside of his comfort zone. “What you overheard that day was not necessarily the case. I was simply irritated by the headmaster’s penchant for meddling, and this lead me to say a number of things that were, perhaps, untrue. And though I am not sure quite how this came to be, you… you are very much my problem, Harry.”

The boy simply stared at him, as if he had spoken in tongues.

Snape sighed impatiently. “Dear Lord, must I spell this out for you child? What I am trying to tell you, is that I have grown… somewhat fond of you and have found myself to enjoy your company much more than I first thought I might. As such, any misapprehension that you may be under about my… not ‘wanting’ you, as you put it, is… not so.”

 “Sorry, sir but… are… are you saying… you… want… me?” Harry asked, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

 “I realise that I am not the most… affectionate or demonstrative of adults. However, from the stories you have told me, it has not escaped my notice that your family are… less than adequate. Professor Dumbledore is under the impression that you would benefit from having somebody to… rely on – somebody who is able to take care of you. And if I am not mistaken, over recent months, I do believe that we have gotten on… well,” Severus said, barely able to believe that the words were coming out of his mouth.

 “What… what are you saying, sir?” Harry asked quietly, as if he dared not believe it.

 “I am… suggesting, Harry, that if you so wish… we might perhaps make our recent arrangements slightly more formal. Although I realise that you are under the care of your Aunt during the summer months, I am not adverse to acting in loco parentis the rest of the time,” he said, stiffly.

 “In loco… parentis?” the boy repeated, looking a little surprised. “Like… a guardian?”

 “Of sorts,” the potions master confirmed. “I hardly think it matters what it is labelled. It is merely a suggestion, and if you are not comfortable or accepting of the idea then–”

Severus was cut off mid-sentence as he found himself with arms full of 11 year old boy.

Harry had scooted out from beneath the covers, clambering into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around the man’s neck before burying his face in his shoulder.

Still a little unfamiliar with the sensation, Snape put his arms around the child in return, bringing one hand up to stoke the back of his head.

 “Shall I take that as a yes?” he asked, silently amused.

Harry nodded, sniffling softly, and it was quiet for a few moments then before the boy spoke again.

 “I missed you,” he murmured, into the fabric of the professor’s robes.

Severus exhaled, wondering just what this child had done to him.

 “I can assure you that the feeling is quite mutual,” he said.

And truly, it was.

OOOOOOO