I beg your pardon?"
"In your office. You called me Potter," he said, his voice softening now.
"Ah. Now we are getting to it."
"I hate it when you call me that. I thought things were different now," Harry told him.
"I think the last six weeks were a clear confirmation that they are. But we have been through this," Severus reminded him. "In the classroom I cannot be seen to treat you any differently to your peers. We have talked about this extensively, have we not?"
Harry just nodded, miserable.
"That does not mean that my feelings towards you have changed. Understood?"
Another nod, less sure this time, and another pause followed.
"Come here," Severus said, eventually.
Getting up, Harry went to stand by the potions master's arm chair, head still hung low.
"Do you understand what could have happened earlier today?" his guardian asked, his own voice softer now.
"Yes. I know. I know we could've been seen, or that we could've destroyed the whomping willow…" Harry began, before a gentle hand found its way beneath his chin, urging him to look up again.
"I am referring neither to the muggles nor the tree, you nuisance child. You could have been seriously injured. Or worse," Snape told him.
Harry's eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair momentarily, and Severus was sure he saw a flicker of relief in the boy's eyes.
"I am sure you know by now that such an eventuality would be… less than pleasing to me?"