"So, is that what Love is?"
"Yes, that is what Love is. It is what makes the game become the falcon, the falcon become man, and man, in his turn, the desert. It is what turns lead into gold, and makes the gold return to the earth."
...
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He's not proud to admit it, and he never will, but Severus' thoughts had sometimes strayed to what it would be like to stroll through the beautiful Hogwarts grounds by twilight with someone. A special someone with long vibrant red hair, maybe?
But he'd never thought that he would be taking a twilit stroll of the worn path to the Forbidden Forest with Professor Albus Dumbledore.
"What are you doing with Potter, all these evenings you are closeted together?" Severus asked, when Dumbledore had finally finished telling him the story of a grey wool sock with dancing snowmen his sister Ariana knit him once, and there appeared a lull in conversation.
Dumbledore suddenly looked weary. Very weary. "Why?" he asked in a tired voice. "You aren't trying to give him more detentions, Severus? The boy will soon have spent more time in detention than out."
Severus' upper lip twitched. "He is his father over again . . ."
Dumbledore sighed. "In looks, perhaps, but his deepest nature is much more like his mother's." he said while trying to gauge Severus' facial expression from a sideways glance. "I spend time with Harry because I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it's too late."
"Information." Severus repeated. "You trust him . . . you don't trust me."
"It isn't a question of trust." Dumbledore answered with a soft almost inaudible chuckle. "I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do."
"And why may I not have the same information?" Severus asked as he cautiously maneuvered his way over an exposed tree root. He checked to see the old man doesn't trip over the same root before fixing his eyes ahead again.
Dumbledore considered a moment before answering. "I prefer not to put all of my secrets in a single basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort."
"Which I do on your orders." Severus reminded Dumbledore sternly but not unkindly.
"And you do it extremely well." Dumbledore chuckled, putting a hand on Severus' shoulder briefly. "Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you."
"Yet . . ." Severus drawled, "you confined much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!"
