"Not really." And he hadn't been going anyplace special. Just out. Away. Someplace alone. "I was just done with dinner." Done, as in done, not necessarily finished.
He didn't really have anything to 'not be kept long for', either. He turned his attention back to the baby in his lap. "I can't imagine first-years pulling hair enough to teach him to do it," he said, reaching to untangle tiny fingers from his hair, then distracted them with his fingers. "But I haven't heard of a rush on hair-tugging fights either, so maybe they're peacefully coexisting."
Warmth surrounded his finger and he chuckled at the gnawing sensation; the child had clamped down on his knuckle with firm baby-gums.
"It's weird though, trying to call you 'Severus'. Maybe I'll stick with Little Bat." He 'looked down at the baby again, chuckling. "Or should we just say 'your Highness'?"